#tool chest till
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abwatt ¡ 1 month ago
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Wood: Till and Tool Rack
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heavenbarnes ¡ 9 months ago
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I used to date an older guy (like mid 40s) a few years back and I always got stupidly turned on when he fixed stuff around his house?? Like, he just knew hot to do it and did it. No googling, just him and his tools. Feel like it would fit somewhere in your older bf Simon stuff.
god love a fully capable “fuck it i’ll do it” type of man 🫶🏼
you know that your older bf!simon doesn’t believe in hiring tradespeople for a service.
“why would i pay someone to fuck about in my home?”
“they’re not fucking about, si! they’d be fixing the sink”
“i’ll do it”
you have no doubt that simon was more than capable of fixing things around the house but you also wanted him relaxing when he was home.
turns out he couldn’t relax at the thought of another man doing something for you.
so you let him do it, you threw your hands up and waved your white tea towel in defeat as you heard him banging around in the garage for tools.
hearing the faint sounds of grunting and the occasional swear word coming from the bathroom, you thought it might pay to go and see how he was getting on.
fucking hell.
simon was on his back, arms stretched up above him as his hands dwarfed the pipe they were wrapped around. t-shirt riding up, lines of his stomach leading right to his belt, knees bent and boots firmly planted on the floor, you could honestly just-
“oi, you gonna’ stare or help me?”
now how the fuck?
“your heads in the cupboard, how did you know-“
“i always know where you are, pass me the wrench”
crouching down beside him, you handed it over and stayed down there to watch him work. scarred knuckles wrapped around the handle of the tool, other palm flat against the base of the sink so you could see the veins.
he was something else entirely.
“how d’you know how to do all this?”
“taught m’self, come hold this”
you reached over to replace where his palm was so he could have both hands back. “but why? surely other people don’t learn all this?”
“other people don’t care about their sweet’art not having to lift a finger- move your finger for me”
the more you stretched to hold the sink, the more you felt yourself losing traction with it. naturally, simon noticed before you did.
“y’need to get closer, cm’ere”
tools landing to the side of him, two large hands plucked you up till you were dropped in his lap. precarious situation but you couldn’t deny the sink was a lot easier to reach.
you stayed like that, letting simon work in peace as you enjoyed your view. honestly, he could invite you to the end of the world and you’d just be happy to hold his hand.
one hand splayed out on his chest, the other holding the sink, you suddenly felt a tickle forming at the end of your nose. before you knew it, you were pulling your hand back to scratch it- the one holding the sink.
you panicked, realising it could very well land on simon’s head. but it didn’t, it stayed completely still. face screwing up, you leant in again to give the sink a nudge only to find out it was totally fixed.
“what the hell, si? why’d you have me doing all that?”
you saw the smirk on his face as he flashed a look over at you. suddenly, you realised you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.
the hand that didn’t have the wrench came out to give you a pat on the side of your hip.
“c’mon sweet’art, i can’t get anything outta’ this?”
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freedomfireflies ¡ 1 year ago
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Yellow*
Summary: An extra for One for the Money*
The one where you have to use your safeword with Mr. Styles and you worry it'll ruin everything.
Word Count: 3.4k
(TW: Panic attack and mentions of panic attacks)
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
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“Just like that…shit, just like that, Peach. So fucking good. Can feel you, honey. Fucking feel you—”
Mr. Styles’ hand intertwines with yours before he brings them both to your stomach. Pressing your palm taut to the flesh until you can feel the subtle bulge from his cock. Thrusting into you so deep, your eyes roll all the way back into your head.
He’s been at it for hours. Showing off for the camera, allowing them to see him at his most powerful. And you at your most vulnerable.
You’re used to it by now. More than used to it, and on any given day, you thrive off it. You indulge in his prowess, his intentions. More than willing to be flaunted in front of the large audience of onlookers as he takes you anyway he wants you.
So you’re not sure why today feels different. Why the weight on your chest is heavier than it usually is. Why his hands – while always kind, always comforting – feel like tools in a game of your misery.
You don’t want to stop him. Don’t want to scare him or upset him. You know the moment you utter the words, the dynamic will shift instantaneously. And perhaps that’s what you want, but the repercussions might be more than you’re prepared to handle.
Yet the thought doesn’t leave you as he lowers his fingers toward your clit to pinch and tweak your next orgasm out of you. But you’re already far too sensitive, far too gone in the stimulation and the pain to enjoy it.
Instead, you try to focus on the little red light that blinks from the camera, try to imagine how pleased the audience will be to see this. How all of this will be worth it. It has to be worth it.
“Feels good, honey, doesn’t it?” he groans, now pushing your knee into your chest until you’re whimpering. “My pretty pussy takes me so well, doesn’t she? Let’s me fuck her exactly the way I want. Till she’s fucking crying.”
You nod weakly and the sight of your wet eyes makes his cock twitch as he drives himself in at a quicker pace.
And suddenly, you can’t breathe. Can’t slow the racing of your pulse or ignore the ringing in your ears. It’s everywhere, this pain. Your vision of him has gone blurry and your poor pussy feels swollen and abused.
But you tell yourself it’ll be fine. That you just need to catch your breath. You just need a second, and it’ll be okay. 
Because you don’t want to say it. You’ve never had to say it before, and you don’t exactly want to start now. And you aren’t sure why, you know he’d be more than understanding. But this is silly, you feel silly. Because you’re fine. You just need a second. And it'll pass. 
It will pass.
But it doesn’t pass, and you don’t feel in control of your own body anymore. Which is normally the point, but not today. Today you need to feel grounded, to feel some semblance of power over the anguish. And he’s so good, and so kind, and you can’t say it. You can’t do this to him, can’t do this to yourself, and if you can just catch your breath, it’ll be okay. 
Because he feels good, he really does. And you’re making him feel good, and you don’t want to take that from him. Because then he won’t get to cum, and he’ll be upset, and he’ll never treat you the same. He’ll always remember that you were too weak to take it.
So you’ll take it, you will. You’ll be his good girl, his good little slut, and you’ll make him proud. 
You will.
Your eyes squeeze shut as you repeat this mantra. As you command yourself to like the pain. Because you do. You have to. You can’t say it. You can’t, so you won’t, and you won’t do this, and you won’t ruin it, and it’s fine, and everything is fine—
“Wait,” you whisper, hands tugging on the sweaty curls at your disposal. Hard enough to capture his attention. “Wait, hold on, hold…yellow.”
Just like that…it all stops. He stills, instantly. No more thrusts into your cunt, no more pinching or pulling on your clit, no more kisses to your neck. It all stops in the blink of an eye, and you hear him inhale a quick breath as his body freezes above yours.
Seconds pass. Quiet and filled with a charged, tense energy that’s so eerie, you can almost hear your heart thumping in your chest. 
Then, he murmurs, “Okay. Okay, m’waiting.”
Your lashes flutter shut as a wince stretches across your expression. He doesn’t sound upset, but maybe he is. And you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, can sense how hard he’s trying to hold himself back, how difficult this must be for him to stop like this.
And you realize now that you’ve ruined it, and he’s gonna be pissed, and he’s going to end things, and he’s never gonna fuck you again—
“Peach,” he says softly, face still nuzzled against your shoulder. “Talk to me, what do you need? What would you like me to do?”
You don’t trust your voice. Can feel the influx of tears racing up the back of your throat as you squeeze his hair harder and shake your head.
But this isn’t an answer he accepts, his fingers gently tugging on your waist. “Peach, I need to hear you. I need to know what to do—”
“Nothing,” you exhale, the words getting lost in his cheek as you hold on for dear life. “Nothing, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just need one second. One second and you can go, okay? I promise, I’m sorry—”
“Peach.” It’s not angry but it’s fervent. Determined. “Don’t…shit. Don’t you dare fucking apologize right now, just tell me…tell me what you want me to do. Do you want me to pull out? Or do you want me to stay still?”
And you want to answer, but you can’t. Because there’s too much happening in your head right now. In your heart. It’s going faster than you think it ever has, and your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse, and you want to cry—God, you want to cry. Can already feel the tears slipping down your face, fast and without mercy.
Because he’s so good, and so wonderful, and so kind, and you don’t deserve him. Especially after making him stop, and why did you make him stop, why did you do this, why can’t you just get over it—
“Hey, hey.” His head lifts, eyes finding yours as his hand comes up to cup your jaw. As delicately as he can without startling you. “Okay, it’s all right. You’re okay, Peach.”
His lips press to the tears on your skin. Gently and with great compassion. Which, in turn, only makes you cry that much harder.
“You’re okay,” he whispers between slow kisses to your cheek. “Deep breath, my love. You’re all right, I’ve got you, yeah? M’right here. Won’t let you go until you want me to.”
You melt into the mattress as he continues holding you to the best of his ability. As he attempts to comfort you without causing you any more pain.
“Honey, I need you to tell me what you need. What your body needs,” he repeats after a moment, nose faintly brushing against yours. “Do you want me to pull out or do you want me to stay still?”
Truthfully, you aren’t sure what you want. It doesn’t sting the way it did before, but you’re worried if he moves, the pain will return tenfold.
And the thought of him taking himself from you makes your chest ache.
“I don’t know,” you whimper, attempting to hide yourself in his neck. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m trying—”
“Hey.” The stern voice returns as his palm tightens against your chin and pulls your focus to him. “What did I just say, hm? I don’t want to hear one more apology out of this pretty mouth. Is that understood?”
Your bottom lip quivers. “…I’m sorry.”
With a gentle but slightly amused sigh, he says, “Peach—”
“I am,” you insist, nails curling into the back of his neck. “I don’t know why I made you stop, I’m fine. I’m fine, really. I think I just got scared or something—”
“Scared?” His demeanor shifts on a dime, brows furrowing, and expression quickly growing distressed. “Scared how? What did I do? What can I do?”
“Nothing,” you repeat, gasping slightly at the implication. “Nothing, no. You didn’t…that’s not what I…fuck.”
“Okay, easy, Peach,” he mumbles, sweeping his thumb along your bottom lip soothingly. Waiting until you calm. And he studies you for quite some time, as though looking for the answer written somewhere on your face. “It was a lot, yeah? I pushed too hard.”
“No,” you try again, but his look of disapproval makes you wilt. “I mean…it was a lot, yes, but you didn’t…normally, it’s perfect. It’s never too hard or too much. You didn’t do this, I think I just…my mind wasn’t here. Maybe.”
He nods once. Contemplates this. “I should have checked in with you more frequently. Especially with the camera on—”
“No,” you huff, resisting the urge to slap his shoulder. “Stop putting this on yourself, it’s making me sad.”
“And your apologies make me sad,” he counters. “But that’s the point of the safeword, isn’t it? The system we have in place? It’s nobody’s fault. It’s about communication. About trust, about safety.”
You swallow thickly and settle into the calming safe of his eyes.
His finger continues to trace the outline of your mouth, almost as if in an attempt to collect himself. “Do you trust me, Peach?”
Your stomach sinks. “Of course.”
“Do you feel safe with me?”
“Yes.” You leave a kiss to his thumb. “Always, Sir. I promise.”
He begins to frown. “No, I don’t want you to call me that right now. I want you to call me Harry.”
And this shift – this instruction is what you were afraid of. Lashes fluttering as you whisper, “It’s…it’s okay. You can still be Sir, I promise—”
“No, I don’t want to be your dominant right now,” he corrects firmly. “I don’t want to be your Sir. Or your boss or your investor. I want to be your partner. Your equal. I want to be you and me. Us.”
And you know he means it. Can sense the truth of it behind his assertion and it feels like the first deep breath you’ve been able to take all day.
 “Okay,” you agree, taking hold of his wrist to keep his hand close to your face. “Okay, we’ll be us.”
He seems relieved, dipping down to kiss the center of your forehead before asking, “Now…tell me what you want. Do you want me to pull out or keep still? What does your body need right now?”
You take a moment to find the right answer. “I don’t…honestly, I don’t know. I’m okay right now. Doesn’t…doesn’t hurt as much. You can…you can keep going if you want.”
“It’s not about what I want,” he reminds you. “It’s about what you want. What you need. If you want me to stay, I will. If you want me to go, I will.”
“I…I don’t want you to go. Really, I didn’t mean to make us stop, I swear—”
“We’re not stopping yet,” he interrupts. “Not until you say red. Right now, we’re just taking a break. Reassessing what you need. Okay?”
You nod weakly. “Okay.”
“Good.” He presses his palm to your cheek. “Do you want to say red? Do you want to stop?”
Again, you deliberate this. “No. No, I don’t think so.”
The frown returns. “I need you to do more than think, Peach. I need you to be sure.”
“I am,” you rush to clarify, shifting a bit beneath him as you squeeze his arm and fight against a pained wince. “I am, I promise. I just…I don’t know what happened. It just…there was a lot happening all of a sudden, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t enjoy it. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe or…or understand why I felt so off.”
A certain sadness finds him again as he nods and presses a couple more kisses to your temple. “I think you had a panic attack, my love.”
It’s an odd thought. One you aren’t quite familiar with, as panic attacks aren’t that common for you. In fact, you don’t believe you’ve ever had one before. At least not that you were aware of.
“Oh…” The words feel empty in your head. Weightless, with no meaning to grasp onto. “I…why?”
The corner of his mouth curls up, and the delicate smile makes your heart soar. “I don’t know. Sometimes we can’t find the cause, it just…happens.”
You blink up at him. “You’ve had a panic attack before?”
“I have,” he says calmly, and it surprises you more than it should. “I get them occasionally. Not as much anymore, though. With you.”
And this admission feels like something you can’t explain. Another piece to the Harry Styles puzzle you get to add to. Letting you see his big picture.
“I didn’t know that,” you whisper, and he shrugs.
“I never told you.” Another kiss to your forehead. “But I know how disorienting they can be, and I think it’s best we take a longer break before we continue.”
You feel your expression fall as he gently begins to move. “No, I…I don’t want to stop, I’m fine. You can…you can go—”
However, when he suddenly shifts his hips, it forces you to suck in a sharp, pained breath. Making it clear that continuing is no longer an option.
And for some reason, it feels like a punch to the gut. Knocking the wind from your lungs until that heaviness returns to your chest.
He really is going to stop. He’s going to take his body from you, and his weight, and his heat, and his cock. And the scene will be over, and maybe you won’t start again. Maybe he won’t be in the mood, or he’ll jerk one out in the shower without you, or he’ll look at you differently.
And you hate that thought more than anything in the world.
“No,” you practically whimper, grabbing onto his hips to keep him still. “No, we don’t have to stop, I’m fine. Really, it was just…it was nothing. Please, Harry.”
His thumb quickly returns to your face, brushing just below your eye to help dry the fresh set of tears on your warm, stained cheeks.
And he looks so very wounded. “Peach…this isn’t a punishment. There’s a reason we use the traffic light system, and it’s for moments like this. To keep things safe—”
“But I am safe,” you argue, the sound of your plea timid and riddled with distress. “And I’m fine now, really. You can go, we can finish. I want you to finish—”
“Peach,” he says again, but it’s a bit more resolute. “This isn’t about me finishing. It will never be about me finishing, all right? We can always resume the scene later if you’d like, but right now…I want to hold you. I want to help you feel steady again.”
And it’s the most perfect thought in the world. From the most perfectly imperfect man, and yet the idea of stopping sends sharp needles down your spine.
“Please,” you whine again, sniffling softly. “I don’t want to stop, I promise. Please don’t make us stop, please don’t…don’t…”
He dips down and nuzzles his nose to yours, forcing you to take a deep breath. “Honey, I’m not doing this to hurt you. Or upset you. I want to help, I want you to let me help. To honor our system and take a break.”
But you tug on him tighter, face disappearing into his chest as you shake your head. “Please don’t. Please just ignore me. I’ll feel worse if we stop, really. I’ll get worried and I’ll overthink, and I’ll panic again, and it’ll just be so much worse. So just…let’s finish, okay? I want to finish.”
You hear – and feel – him sigh. “Baby, I need you to listen to me right now, okay? This is my answer.”
It’s rare he uses this nickname, and even though it might be a little cliché, it makes your stomach wrench in the best possible way.
Yet still, the anguish is evident. “Harry,” you whisper, pleading desperately with everything you have left.
He slips his palm around the back of your neck to pull you from his body and allow him to see your face. It’s scrutinous, his expression. Slightly stern and somewhat doleful. “Do I need to be your dominant again? Is that the only way you’ll listen to me?”
Truth be told, you wonder if it is, and your sad little hiccup seems to be answer enough.
So, while fighting a smile, he says, “Then I want you to be a good girl and let Daddy hold you. I don’t want you to argue with me, or fight me, or act like a brat. I want you to say, ‘Yes, Sir,�� and be done with it. Is that understood?”
With a shaky inhale and a feeble nod, you murmur, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good,” he hums before landing his mouth on yours. Kissing you for the first time in what feels like years. “Much sweeter when you behave for me, my love. Aren’t you?”
But you don’t have the strength to answer.
“I know,” he says for you, chuckling against your lips. “Now…I’m gonna pull out. And I’m gonna go slow, all right? Try to be as gentle as I can. And I want you to tell me if it aches or if it’s too much, yes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
With this vow, he begins to draw his hips back, cock retreating from your pussy until that full feeling begins to diminish.
And at first it’s a bit uncomfortable. Tight, in a sense but eventually, he’s all the way out, and your cunt is provided a moment of much needed reprieve.
The moment that relief finds you, it seems to melt across your expression. And he notices, smiling gratefully but with a twinge of regret. As though he’s punishing himself for causing you the displeasure in the first place.
But before either of you can argue about it again, he’s settling on the mattress beside you and slipping an arm around your stomach. Keeping you pressed against his body to hold you the way he promised.
“There,” he sighs, lips returning to their rightful place on your neck. “Is that better?”
Your eyes fall shut in blissful ecstasy as you lace your hand with his. “Yes, Sir.”
He grins and that familiar dimple reappears. “Attagirl. And you’re gonna let me hold you, yeah?”
“Mhm. Always, Sir.”
He kisses the spot below your ear. “Good.”
The large bedroom falls silent while the little red light from the camera blinks the seconds away. You imagine you’ll have to scrap this video, and you want to feel regret over wasting so much content over this.
But you know, deep down, it’s not about the videos, or your OnlyFans, or the money.
Because all you really need…is here beside you.
“Sir?” you whisper into the delicate air.
His head rolls back. “Yes, Peach?”
“Thank you.”
He squeezes your hip. “Don’t have to thank me, honey. This is my job. This is what we agreed on.”
“I know,” you admit, allowing your other hand to travel to his hair. Fingers absentmindedly sweeping through the curls. “But I don’t think any of my other partners would have been this understanding. And I really appreciate it.”
His eyebrow raises. “Well, that’s why they aren’t your fucking partners anymore. You needed someone that wasn’t a total fucking twat.”
You smirk. “Touché.”
Another quiet lull as you listen to the sound of his soft breaths. Reveling in the feel of them against your heated skin. The way they keep you present in this moment with him instead of losing you to the voices in your head.
Contented, you turn and press your cheek to his forehead, nails scratching down his scalp gently. “Harry?”
“Yes, Peach?”
With a racing heart, your eyes flutter shut.
“…I love you.”
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Previous Part:
~ How Many?*
~ Full One for the Money Masterlist
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz @closureesny
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nachrosas ¡ 17 days ago
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PADDY | s.reid x daughter!reader
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summary: in which your daughter wants to be called paddy because her paddington bear. pairing: spencer reid x daughter!reader content warnings: just a bit of spencer insecurities and childhood, i think? word count: 603 a/n: hope you guys like it and feedback is always appreciated! till the next one!
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The sun streamed timidly through the bedroom window, reflecting off the small stickers on the glass. The room was silent, except for the faint sound of pages being turned in a book. Spencer was sitting on the small fluffy rug, surrounded by a pile of books that Olivia, his four-year-old daughter, had rearranged in her own way — in other words, scattered randomly on the floor.
The little girl, her hair still messy from having just woken up, was sitting next to her father with her inseparable Paddington Bear in her little arms. The teddy bear, with his slightly worn red hat, seemed as focused as she was as they both stared at a book with map illustrations.
“Daddy?” she called, without taking her eyes off the book.
“Yes, Chérie?” Spencer replied, while rearranging the books in alphabetical order.
“My name isn't Olivia anymore.”
Spencer looked up, now puzzled. He adjusted his glasses and tilted his head, already accustomed to his daughter's surprisingly complex thoughts — which had undoubtedly been one of the traits she had drawn from him.
“What would you prefer me to call you?”
She clutched the bear to her chest and looked at her father seriously. “Paddy. Because now I'm like Paddington Bear.”
Spencer blinked, surprised, trying to hide a smile as he considered his daughter's statement. He closed the book he was holding and turned fully towards her.
“Oh, I see! And as Paddington Bear, do you have a special mission?”
Olivia frowned thoughtfully, as if that were the most important question in the world.
“I need a red hat and a suitcase. Can you help me?”
Spencer let out a low laugh, standing up.
“Sure, Paddy. We'll sort it out. After all, even bears need to be prepared for their adventures.”
He held up the small but old red hat he had found at the back of the cupboard. It was a little big for Olivia's head, but she put it on proudly, adjusting it with both hands. Her smile was so wide that he couldn't look away.
She spun around, holding the Paddington Bear like a trophy, and asked: “Is it good, Daddy?”
Spencer opened his mouth to reply, but an unexpected wave of memories hit him. He remembered the lonely nights of his own childhood, surrounded by books and theories, but with no one his own age to share all his fantastic ideas with. 
Looking at Olivia, full of life and with eyes brimming with joy, he felt a pinch. For a second, he hesitated. He didn't want to be the kind of father who quenched his daughter's imagination.
Taking a deep breath, he knelt down to her height and gently adjusted his hat. “It's perfect, Paddy. I've never seen Paddington look so elegant and stylish.”
Olivia let out a giggle and hugged the bear tightly, as if she had just received a title of nobility. Spencer smiled, but his mind was still wandering. He couldn't change the past, but he could do something now. He could be the father he wished he had, someone who didn't just accept Olivia's imagination, but celebrated it.
“You know,” he said, his voice soft as if revealing a secret. “Imagination is an adventurer's greatest tool. It's how the great explorers discover new and unexplored places.”
Olivia tilted her head, curious. “Like me, Dad?”
“Like you, Paddy,” he nodded.
And at that moment, he decided that he would never let Olivia feel that her imagination was small. For him, her every fantasy was an adventure worth living.
“So, where are we going to travel first, Paddy?” he asked, taking her hand.
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finniestoncrane ¡ 8 months ago
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Is That A Threat?
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 500 episode 4 really did something to me!! no spoilers for the show, just cooper and reader out in the wasteland together being filthy and flirty🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: teasing, rope restraints, just some tension loaded flirting
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"Boy, you just aren't afraid of me at all, are ya?"
Cooper flicked the brim of his hat with a gloved finger, his deep set eyes meeting yours, squinting slightly as the unbearable glint of the sun obstructed his vision. Despite the jovial undertone of his words you could tell that he was, even slightly, put out by this fact. Fear was one of his strongest tools. It gave him his power, and he wanted to be able to exert that over you, even just a little bit. So you shuffled your feet in a false display of naiviety, kicking up the dry dust.
"Should I be? I mean... are you going to shoot me, Mister Howard?"
"I was more thinking that maybe you should be afraid of my demeanor, or at least my looks, little lady. But you should always be afraid of me shooting you..."
He raised the shotgun, pointing the barrell at your chest, winking as he aimed, his finger far away from the trigger.
"...That is a permanent source of danger."
With an eyebrow raised, you took a delicate step forward, everything else about the wasteland blurring around you as your attention focused on the ghoul who stood before you, casting a still and steady shadow on the wall behind him. It only moved when he shifted back a step, keeping the distance between you both.
"Is that a threat, Coop?"
"You’re getting’ to be awful Informal, missy."
"I think we're past formalities, don't you?"
You raised your hands, ready to grip the lapels of the tattered, leather duster coat he wore, but Cooper was quicker than you. In what felt like the length of time it took you to blink, albeit a slow and sultry one, you could feel the ropes of his lasso around your wrists, tightening, sharp on your sensitive, sun damaged skin.
"We ain't past nothin' yet, darlin'... not till I know you can behave the way I expect you to. Now can you do that?"
Sinking to your knees before him, you rested your fingers against the buckle of his belt, leaning towards him, mouth slightly open. But your attention was pulled from the tenting at the front of his dusty, worn pants as his gloved finger settled under your chin, tilting your gaze up to meet his, deep set eyes surrounded by wrinkled, leathery skin, worn with the sun and his deceptive age.
Knowing what he expected, how he liked it, you pulled what little saliva you had left in your mouth, sucking it from your cheeks and letting it spill out in a pathetic drop over your lips.
"That's a good girl right there. Won't have to punish you at all if you keep that up."
"That a threat, Coop?"
His thumb tapped the barrell of the gun on his hip.
"It is indeed, darlin'. It is indeed."
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nameless-pirate ¡ 23 days ago
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Kid: smutty headcanons
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Summary: just some smutty Eustass Kid headcanons. Tags: nsfw, for both afab and amab reader Notes: I have permanent Eustass Kid brainrot. I love him.
– MDNI –
I actually don't think he's that much into one stands. I've seen a lot of fics and headcanons portraying him as such, but I don't really buy it. He's a ride or die kind of a person and I think he prefers to have one person (maybe two if we count Killer) with whom he can explore kinks and sexual fantasies.
That being said, he's most definitely not a virgin. He wouldn't want to die without having sex and the pirate life is dangerous, so one day when they stopped on one of the islands for longer, he had a brief and sweet sexual affair with one of the tavern staff. If he goes out to have fun and the mood strikes, he usually goes for blow jobs.
He masturbates a lot. It's a great way to relieve at least some of his frustration. So he does it in the morning, before going to sleep, every time he showers, and whenever he's bored.
Not going to sleep with you on a first date, but also not going to let you go without a hot make out session after which both of you would masturbate in the shower (separately!).
Not going to sleep with you on a second or third date either. It's not a strict rule, but he'd prefer to wait. The anticipation is part of the fun. But I think he'd also like to feel more secure before going all in.
Because once you two have sex and it's as good as he'd imagine or better, he's not letting you go. He wants you close. Forget personal space. He wants to be your number one priority and touch you whenever he wants. The first week after you spent the night together will be spent in bed. Killer provides the food. He knocks on the door then leaves the plates in front of it.
Loves blow jobs, hand jobs, and any other forms of you touching him. It doesn't even have to lead to anything, you can just keep your hand on his dick, and he'll be happy.
Once he performs oral sex on you, get ready for a long pleasure session. He usually prefers to work you with his hand, so when he decides to go down on you, it's not an appetiser or dessert; it's the whole damn meal.
Soft during the first night. Gentle even. He wants to learn about your body and what you like.
Once he knows what makes you moan, it's game over. He wants you loud, so he'll focus on whatever you like till you scream his name.
During sex, he wants to hear his name only screaming or as a whisper/whimper when you beg him for more.
A huge fan of quickies.
Holds the record for the number of destroyed panties. Say goodbye to your favourite pair of undies. He'll rip them off.
But if you say that you'll stop wearing underwear altogether, he can't stand that. You need to open a lid to get to the inside of a treasure chest and he likes to rip it off. It's part of the experience. So he'll tear it off you with his teeth or his hands.
(afab) This doesn't apply to bras. Free the boobs and let him glance at your nipples.
(amab) He gives the sloppiest blowjobs. He leaves lipstick stains on your thighs and bruises on your hips as he pushes you to fuck his mouth harder. He NEVER forgets about the balls. He'll lick or suck them at the beginning. Definitely fingers your ass while blowing you.
(afab) Eating pussy? More like devouring. He loves everything about your pussy. He always starts by saying how lovely you smell before taking a long lick along your slit. There’s nothing he enjoys more than the sound you make when he swirls his tongue around your clit. And since he likes to use all the tools he has at his disposal, he’ll finger you while eating out. Pussy or ass—your choice.
Up for anything. “Don’t knock it off till you try it” is his motto in bed.
He loves to fuck you from behind but if he’s nearing his orgasm, he wants to see your face. Happy and all fucked out—just as he loves it.
He can and will go multiple rounds.
Prefers to cum inside of you. That’s how he marks you as his.
Leaves you with hickies, bruises, and scratch marks. And you better not cover them—those are masterpieces he’s proud of.
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hello-gloomy ¡ 2 months ago
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Metal Bambi
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Megatron x Gen!Reader
Description: Seeing something crash into the woods by your house you go and check it out on a whim.
Warnings: Slight OOC. Death threat, alien bleeding. Alcohol mentioned at the end. You/Your pronouns no definitive description of reader.
A/N: Bro I didn't even put his name in till the end, also I like to think this takes place during a truce ( in the TFP universe ofc). Anyway enjoy my projection of my daydreams and let me know if u want a part two.
1,300 Words
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Despite better judgment, you followed the large, silver, crashing object into the woods. Just for fun, you think to yourself for comfort. You take all your mechanic tools in the case as if it were a giant object in the sky. You were leaving your vehicle as you couldn't take it through the heavy terrain. Running across the forest floor and jumping through bushes, you follow the reoccurring crashing noises and shuffling. The nearer you were, the better you could make out a deep rumbling; it sounded like uttering. A very angry utter, rounding the final tree in your path, you found a robot as giant as the trees in the forest sitting down against one of the said trees. It looked injured, leaking a blue liquid covered in what looked like ash. Its silver plating seemed covered in scratches, and some looked dented. Glancing farther up, straining your neck, you glimpse at what you guess to be its Face. Its eyes are closed, and what you think are its arms are holding its chest. Getting closer to it, you climb over its legs and get closer to its chest. Examining the shrapnel sticking out its chest, you put on some thick gloves and position yourself to yank in harshly out. Before you make some motion, a voice stops you dead in your tracks; you quickly whip your head up to the noise.
" What do you think you're doing." It says in a low grumble. You blink at him and then remember that you need to respond lest it end your life before you can help.
"Taking this out.." You state as evenly as you can. He looks at you, processing your words while glaring at you the best he can, as he's in such a state of disarray. You wait a beat, hoping he doesn't swat you away and kill you from the sheer size of his hand. He lets out a deep hum and moves his arm to let you pull it out. Getting into position again, you steady your feet, mustering all the strength you can, and you pull with all your might. With one final tug, it flings out onto the ground with a resounding clang of metal. He lets out a deep sigh above you. Steadying yourself on one of his legs, you stand on the tips of your shoes and glance at the hole left by the metal spike. Some cords are broken and leaking that blue fluid that you saw earlier. Hopping down from his thigh, you lay your bag on the ground and take out some black electrical tape. Then climb back up his legs and reach into the hole to start patching up the loose cords the best you can, without even really knowing what he is, aside from the fact he is a giant bleeding, at least you think bleeding, robot.
" I don't think a bandaid is going to fix the giant hole in your chest, but...I uh stopped the bleeding..." Trying to lighten the mood, you trail off at the last bit awkwardly as he doesn't say anything nor laugh, so you peek up and see him staring at you, calmly breathing as he studies your Face.
"So, how'd you get beat up?" Your odds of obtaining an explanation from him appear slim.
"Predacons."
"Wow." That was a stupid response, though you didn't know how else to respond. He lets out another low hum at your reaction to his answer.
" Why are you helping me?" You don't have the answer to this intriguing question, so give him the next best thing.
"Because you're injured, " you declare with little confidence but straight-faced. He lets a huff out at your reaction. He moves his arm toward you, and his hand cups half of your body. He leans down slightly to convey his point in his following words.
" I could crush you in the palm of my servo." His eyes baring into your soul made your heart seize at his words.
" If you wanted to, you would have done it already." Spoken with Faux confidence and a slight tremble in your voice as you held his fierce gaze. You resume your work and finish patching him up the best you, as he started guiding you after his original threat.
"It'll heal on its own, " he says suddenly. You tilt your head, confused at his sudden words.
" The hole." He explains it to you in a few words, referencing your previous joke. You let out a quiet 'Oh' to him in understanding.
" If you want, you can follow me home; I can clean you up better there. And wash off most of that dirt, too." You offer to him while packing up most of the tools you had originally packed with you. He's staring at you again, and then he balances his arm against the tree he is lying on and moves to stand up. He looks down at you expectantly, and you take that as your queue to lead the way back out. The walk back is primarily quiet, aside from the crunching of leaves under your feet and the resounding thump of the robot's footsteps following you. Reaching the road again, you look at your car and then back to him. You move to say something, but he beats you by transforming into a tank.
" What the actual fuck." He scoffs and flashes his lights as a sign to start driving the way home. You get into your car, slightly exasperated at the situation that you found yourself in. Pulling up into the driveway, you park on the grass instead of in the large shed to move easier back and forth.
" Wait here real quick." You holler behind you at the mech while rushing inside for a tarp for him to sit, as your garage and shed are a bit undersized, and you'd rather not risk making him uncomfortable while injured. Running back out to him, tarp in hand, he turned back to his more humanoid form, standing with his arms crossed while looking at your home. You quickly lay it out on the ground for him with a slight 'Tah-Dah' for added effect and a wave of your hands. His Face remains the same, and he waits for a beat before shifting to sit on it.
" I would offer you some water, but I don't think you drink that, considering what was leaking out of you." You sway awkwardly, trying to converse with the giant before you.
"Energon." He states with no explanation. You give him a 'Uh-Huh' with a little nod, pretending to understand. You turn on the hose and blast him with warm water, getting all the built-up dirt and dried energon on him. Finally clean and shiny again, you notice hints of purple and red on his plating that you couldn't see before.
"You're pretty for an alien robot, you know." You say offhandedly while checking out the odd symbol on his chassis. He lets out a full laugh at your slight advance to him; it made you jump due to its unexpectedness.
"You're brave for your size."
"Thanks.." You return with a grimace.
"What's your name, organic?" He asks seriously
"Y/n. And you?"
"Megatron." He holds out a single digit to you, and you wrap your little hand around it in response, giving a little shake for good measure.
"I won't forget your bravery today." He gets up off his knee and stands at his full height. Turning his back to you, he walks a little ways away from you, giving you one final glance before turning into a ship and flying off.
"I need a drink." You kick the hose and head inside.
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evansbby ¡ 1 year ago
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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bestfriend!Ari Levinson x naive!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: HEAVY SOMNO, dark!Ari, smutt, daddy!kink, non-con, 18+ only, minors dni.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your best friend, Ari, wants to fuck you. And he doesn’t care if you’re awake or asleep...
𝐀/𝐍: SUPER DARK. Please, if you don’t like, don’t read! The whole thing is basically somno, and this is a dark fic! Please beware of that. Apart from that, enjoy! Also, this is completely unedited lol please be kind.
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“Ow! Ari! I told you; my boyfriend won’t like it if you do that!”
“What? This?”
Ari plants his lips against the nape of your bare neck, giving the sensitive skin a hearty suck. His fingers dance down your body, digging into your ribs and making you giggle and squirm on top of him.
“Stop! It hurts!”
“Oh yeah? Why are you laughing, then?” He tickles you harder, holding you tightly in his arms lest you try to escape. You’re too busy laughing your head off to notice his lips press against your skin once more, his tongue lathering at the hickey he’s just given you. And then he sucks again, so hard that your laughter is cut short and you gasp, feeling like your sensitive skin is going to break as he continues to suction it.
“Nooo, Ari, please! Steve won’t like that! He’ll get the wrong idea!”
Ari draws back and smirks, “Please. We’ve been best friends longer than you’ve been going out with Steve. And best friends are allowed to cuddle every now and then, I’m sure your tool of a boyfriend will understand that.”
“Hey! Don’t call him a tool!” You smack Ari on the chest but all he does is grab both your wrists with one hand, his other one snaking down to tickle you some more. You scream and laugh, trying to break free but he’s way too strong as he pins you down on the sofa, climbing on top of you and continuing to attack your ribs with his fingers.
Ari had been your best friend for years – ever since high school, to be exact. He was big and protective and strong and confident, making you feel safe whenever you were around him. He was also goofy and fun and kind, but he usually reserved those personality traits for when the two of you were alone. Everyone else knew him as Ari Levinson, the football star with huge prospects – the NFL’s newest recruit, in fact – and a man with a dangerous streak in him.
But you knew him as just Ari, the boy you’d grown up with. The one who you’d watched funny movies with till the two of you peed your pants laughing, the one who’d always helped you study for all your tests. The one who you’d shared so many of your firsts with. Your first time on a plane had been with Ari when the two of you had jetted off to Bali (a graduation present from his parents). Your first-time smoking weed had also been with Ari (he’d laughed and assured you that the police were not going to lock you up for smoking a joint).
Even your first kiss had been with Ari. (“Don’t worry, I’m just going to show you how to do it.” Ari had assured you, “No strings attached, baby. I don’t wanna jeopardise our friendship, it’s the most important thing in the world to me.”) And show you he had, and you still remember his soft lips on yours, like a warm pillow working against your mouth. His breathless whispers against you, coaxing you to use your tongue, and his big hands holding you close to him, almost like he never wanted to let you go.
You’d kissed many guys since then, but Ari didn’t know about all of them. He seemed to grow upset and irritated any time you mentioned going on a date with anyone, let alone kissing and making out and all that other stuff. All of which you’d done with Steve, your current boyfriend. In fact, Steve had taken your virginity this past summer – but Ari didn’t have to know that. It had taken him weeks to accept that Steve was your boyfriend, you knew it would take him another year to process that you’d given your virginity to Steve too.
But Ari was just protective, you always reasoned to yourself. And there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, you liked how secure he made you feel and how he was always there for you. How he always dropped everything for you, even with the bazillions of girls who were after him. (Ari, with his rugged good looks, was always popular with the ladies. But being an NFL star boosted his popularity even more – he had supermodels regularly going in and out of his house. You could confirm, you’d run into one or two a few times).
“Hello? You still there?” Ari bounces you in his lap to get your attention. “It’s no fun torturing you when you don’t give me a reaction.”
“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
He nudges your nose with his and shoots you his winning smile, the one that makes his blue eyes sparkle. “I’m the one who does the thinking, remember? You just look pretty.”
You blink, “Steve says he likes it when I space out. He wants me to write all my thoughts down so he can turn them into poetry.”
Ari rolls his eyes, “He sounds like a douche.”
You smack his hard chest once more. “He’s not. If you just agreed to meet him once, you’d like him just as much as I do.”
“I doubt it.”
You bat his chest again.
“Ow! Okay, okay, I’d like him! Now can we stop talking about Steve when it’s you and me time?” Ari huffs, giving you a squeeze. “I finally got you all to myself for the weekend and all you want to do is talk about Steve.”
“Aww, I’m sorry, Ari. What do you want to do?”
The two of you end up putting on a movie and cuddling on the couch. It’s raining cats and dogs outside, but the steady pitter-patter of the water droplets against the window creates an oddly calming atmosphere. Inside, you feel toasty warm in Ari’s embrace, the big brunette holding you tightly against his chest as he spoons you and all you can hear is the movie mixed in with the crackling of the fireplace and your best friend’s steady breathing against your neck.
“I always get sleepy when we cuddle.” You yawn, giggling when his lips find your neck again. Cuddling with Ari was always fun – the two of you had been doing it for years. Ari had told you that all best friends cuddle like this, where the two of you are so close that you can feel every part of him. Even his hard crotch as it nestles against your ass, and every few seconds he shuffles or grabs your hips and moves you up and down. But he probably doesn’t realise what he’s doing, or that you can feel him getting… excited. He probably doesn’t mean to get excited anyways.
You sometimes get excited while cuddling with Ari too. Excited down there. But you’re too shy and embarrassed to ever tell him. You’re meant to just be best friends with him, for Godsakes! Nothing more!
“Ari?”
“Mm, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your neck, where his tongue is currently licking over a spot that he’s been sucking for a while now.
“I know you said that all best friends give each other hickeys while cuddling, but I don’t think Steve would like it if he saw these.”
Ari groans, not letting up at all as he continues to suck at the one spot on your neck. In fact, you feel his teeth graze against your sensitive skin and you gasp when he bites down. Not too hard, but enough to make the mark even more prominent. God, you’d need a lot of makeup to cover that up – you knew without even looking at it.
“There you go again, talking about Steve when it’s meant to be us time. Now shh, I’m trying to relax and watch the movie. You should try and do the same.”
You do try, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as you watch the movie play out on the television. The pitter-patter of the rain outside makes you feel even sleepier, so much so that you barely even register it when you feel Ari’s hands slip under your tank top. He did that sometimes, claiming that his hands got cold very easily and he needed the warmth of your bare skin to heat them back up – which was totally understandable. His palms always felt warm against you, however, but you knew that Ari knew best.
“Is this the new bra I got you?”
You yelp when you feel his hands cup your breasts over the material of your bra, giving them a few squeezes that have you involuntarily pressing your thighs together.
“Ari!”
His hands don’t move, instead he squeezes your breasts harder, and your face grows hot as your nipples stiffen, poking through the lace material and straight against his palm.
“Well? Is it?”
“Yes, it is.” You answer, stifling a yawn and deciding you’re too tired to fight him off you. He was just feeling extra touchy – he as like that sometimes. It was purely platonic and didn’t mean a thing. And it’s not like he was feeling you up, he was probably just trying to detect the material of the bra. It was one of the few (about twelve) lingerie sets from Victoria’s Secret that Ari had had delivered to your apartment a few days ago. He was always surprising you with gifts, it was actually very sweet of him.
“Good. I like it when you wear things I bought for you.”
“Mmhmm.” You’re feeling drowsier and drowsier, and it’s so comfy being in Ari’s strong arms as they hold you in place against his chest. Cuddling with Ari really was the best, and it just made you so sleepy…
“Go to sleep, baby.” Ari croons in your ear, giving you another tight squeeze. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
*
Ari watches you drift off in his arms, his boner unbearably hard as he digs it into your ass. Fuck, you had the world’s cutest little bubble butt, and the way it was currently nestled against his dick was making him so fucking horny, it was unreal.
In fact, he was so riled up that everything you did tonight was making him horny. From the way you pranced around your apartment in those tight grey legging that made your ass pop, bending down to pick up God knows what and giving him an eyeful of your backside, making his palms itch to give it a slap or two. He’d gotten away with it in the past, various times while the two of you play-wrestled. And he’d just blame it on the innocent “rough-housing” as he’d smack your ass quickly in succession, loving how you’d squeal and dig your face into his chest in embarrassment. (Or pleasure, because Ari knew you secretly liked it).
And now here you were, cute little you practically unconscious in his arms. Wearing the pretty pink lace bra that he’d bought for you and cuddling up close to his chest. Unknowingly, you rub your butt against his crotch, making him groan in frustration. Goddamit, did you have to be so fucking hot? In your sexy leggings and your tight tank top that just about left nothing to the imagination. Not to mention how cute and innocent you were, and so much smaller than him, so much weaker than him…
“Fuck, baby, you’d run for the hills if you knew the thoughts I was thinking.” Ari tells you, giving your breasts another squeeze.
“What?” You mumble, but it seems like you’re halfway in dreamland. Which is exactly what Ari wants, because fuck it. He’s done waiting around for you, picturing you when he jacks off. He’s been doing that for years now, because he cums the hardest when he pictures you. All sweet and innocent, getting fucked by him in various positions. Crying because his cock is so big as it violates you, tears you open and claims you as he fucks you deep and hard, till you can feel him up in your womb. Till you’re screaming his name, telling him that he’s your daddy, telling him you’ll do anything for him.
Ari still remembers the first time you’d made him cum. You hadn’t been aware of it, but the way you’d bounced up and down on his lap, excited about some silly thing or the other, he couldn’t really remember. But what he does remember is busting a nut hard, your breasts pushed up prettily against his chest and your butt rubbing against his boner, practically milking his cock as he came in his pants. He’d had a taste of heaven that night, and that was years ago. He’d been sneaking more tastes ever since.
“But never the real thing,” Ari sighs to himself, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of your leggings. “I still haven’t been inside that tight snatch of yours, sweetheart. Isn’t that sad?”
You mumble something incoherent, clearly still half asleep. And Ari’s too horny to care, trying his luck by snapping the waistband of your leggings against your skin, licking his lips when you don’t stir.
“No panties, huh?” He teases you, slipping a hand down your leggings to cup your butt cheek and give it a hefty squeeze. “It’s like you’re begging me to fuck you, sweetheart. I wonder what Steve would think?”
God, Ari hates Steve. Hates him with a blind fury. He hates that the idiot blonde has weaselled his way into your life. Ari turned his back for one second (he was in the NFL, so football took up 90% of his time) and Steve just scooped you up before Ari could talk you out of it. He’s never officially met Steve, but he’s seen him. Seen him holding hands with you. Kissing you. Taking you out on dates. And Ari hates him for it.
Most of all, Ari hates that you let Steve fuck you.
“Oh, you think I don’t know that you’ve been a naughty girl?” Ari coos, chucking your chin and smirking when you pout in your sleep. He strokes your face with one hand, the other one still firmly cupping your bare ass from under your leggings. “My little baby girl, giving herself to another man. Let me tell you, baby, I was furious when I found out. I almost went over to Steve’s apartment and killed him with my bare hands.”
“But you’d hate me if I did that.” Ari sighs, pinching your cheek lightly. He licks his lips, lifting your tank top up till it rests above your chest, before pushing the cups of your bra down to your ribs. Your breasts spill out attractively, and Ari feels a thrill go straight down to his crotch. “I should’ve been the only one who ever got to see you naked. I mean, remember all those showers we took together?”
Ari had persuaded you on multiple occasions to shower with him in order to conserve water. Oh yes, he’d managed to convince you that he was all about saving the environment, and water conservation was number one on his list. And you hadn’t seemed to mind, giggling and washing his hair for him, not noticing how his eyes remained glued to your hot, soapy body, how his fingers itched to grab your hips, bend you over and fuck the living daylights out of you…
“But you just had to let Steve fuck you, didn’t you? Before I even got the chance.” He can’t help but dip his head down, latching his mouth on your bare nipple. God, he’d touched and fondled you over the years, but nothing like this. He tries to keep his excitement at bay but he can’t help but suckle the stiff peak of your nipple, growing hornier than ever as he keeps from suctioning your whole breast into his mouth, his one hand fondling your body while the other slips down to undo his fly and take his dick out.
“Mm, Ari… Is that you?” You murmur, sounding surprisingly eloquent for someone who’s meant to be asleep. But you’re indeed still asleep, softly snoring while Ari continues to have his way with you. He releases your nipple with a pop, gently turning you over so that you’re lying on your stomach, your cheek pressed against the arm rest of the couch.
“Now sweetheart, I’ll show you what it’s like to be with a real man. And I’ll make sure you remember it, even if you do think it’s all just a dream.”
He wastes not in slipping your leggings down to your knees, hungry eyes drinking in your cute, bare ass. He gives it a little smack, hands itching to hit you harder but he knows you’d wake up. And then how would he explain himself? Well, he could probably think of something (“I was just giving you a full-body massage, sweetheart. Your muscles seemed tense.”) You’d definitely believe it, since you were gullible enough to believe all the flimsy lies he’d been telling you for the past few years.
Ari presses a soft kiss to your butt, simultaneously grabbing a handful of your cheek and giving it a lewd jiggle. God, you were so sexy, lying down so nice for him as he violated your body. Well, it wasn’t a violation because he owned you. He’d owned you since the day he met you, and no sorry ass loser by the name of Steve Rogers was going to take you away from him. Steve may have gotten to pop your cherry, but Ari was going to make sure that that never happened again. The only dick you’d remember the feel of would be Ari’s, and that was a promise he was making to himself and to you. (If you were conscious right now, that is).
“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” Ari breathes, one hand on your hip and the other on his cock as he drags the tip of it up and down your ass. Tracing it over your butt cheek and smearing his precum all over the skin before he grabs and spreads your ass, pressing his dick between your crack and rubbing it up and down. “God, fuck, baby, I can’t believe you’re finally letting me do this.”
He spits, his saliva dripping down your ass crack and gathering in your puckered hole, making him grin. He’d fuck you there one day too – but you’d need to be awake and aware for that. There was no way he was stuffing his big dick inside your virgin ass while you were asleep.
“Ari? Feel kinda wet…” You mumble, trying to turn over but he presses his hand in the small of your back to keep you in place.
“You’re just dreaming, baby.” He tells you, stroking your hair to lull you back to sleep. “It’s raining outside, and so you’re dreaming of rain. That’s why you feel wet, sweetie.”
“Ohhhh, makes sense…” You answer, and Ari can’t believe his luck that you’re still asleep. Or not fully conscious… Same difference.
He spreads your ass cheeks wider, placing a pillow under your hips to prop you up. And then his eyes drink in your glistening pussy. And now he understands why you were mumbling about being feeling wet…
“Naughty little baby pussy, getting all wet just because daddy’s playing with your ass.” Ari scolds, talking to your pussy and not you. He itches to spread your wet folds with his fingers and give you a hard slap right on your bundle of nerves. But he knows the jolt from something like that might wake you up.
You’ve soaked the couch cushion underneath you, and that’s hen Ari knows you’re ready. Well, you’ll never truly be ready for his dick. Ari knows he’s bigger than average – enough girls have told him so. But none of those girls are you. He’s not in love with them like he is with you, all those supermodels and actresses are just placeholders until he settles down with you. Makes you his wife and fucks you good every single day.
“I can’t believe you’re asleep for our first time.” Ari whispers, gliding the tip of his dick up and down your slick folds. “I mean, I think it’s kind of hot, but that’s not the point. You weren’t asleep when you let Steve fuck you, were you?”
A spark of anger courses through his veins just then, and he can’t help but reprimand you by smacking your ass hard. And all you do is whimper in your sleep, his naughty little girl.
“I bet he didn’t even make you cum.” Ari breathes, mounting you and angling your hips upwards. “Not like how I will. And you know why? Because I’m your daddy and I know your body better than anyone.”
Ari still remembers the first time he made you call him daddy. It was during a game of truth or dare, and he’d dared you to call him daddy for the rest of the night. And fuck, you had done it. And his dick had grew harder and harder through the course of the night, as you addressed him as daddy all cutely, pouting those pretty lips of yours and blinking up at him innocently. Fuck, you had no idea how much of an effect you had on him. Even when he was fucking all those models, he’d imagine they were you. He chose the ones that looked like you, and sometimes he’d even call them by your name. They were too fucked out to notice, and it’s not like Ari cared about their feelings.
No, Ari only cared about you.
It feels like heaven as he slowly eases his dick inside you. You’re so wet and warm, your walls hugging his huge dick as if he’s being encased in warm velvet. God, this is everything he’d ever dreamed of, and he doesn’t even care that he isn’t the first one to fuck you. He supposes he could forgive you for that, because you’re his baby and he loves you.
“Nnngh, Ari…” You moan in your sleep before your body goes stiff with alertness, “Wh-What’re you doing?”
“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep. It’s just a dream.” Ari manages to coax you, despite the fact that your little snatch is squeezing his dick so good and he’s not even halfway inside of you but it’s such a goddamn tight fit and he knows that if you were awake right now you’d be crying from discomfort.
“Just a dream?” You murmur, before your body jolts and you let out another moan, “Mmm, Ari, so full…”
“Oh, baby, I’m gonna tear you in half.” Ari promises you, resisting the urge to drive his big dick all the way inside you from the get-go. No, you’re his baby, his princess, his best friend, and the love of his life. He has to be gentle with you – at first, at least. He doesn’t want to split you open and make you bleed. Well, he does, but there’s plenty of time to do that in the future.
He pushes his dick further into you, pinning your body in place as you squirm from the sheer size of him.
“I’m already fucking you better than that asshole boyfriend of yours ever did, huh?”
“Mmhm, yess….”
“Damn straight. I bet his cock ain’t as big as mine, huh?”
“Oh, Ari… Nooo.”
It’s a marvel that you’re asleep yet answering his questions, but he figures you think it’s all just a dirty little dream you’re having. He begins to rock his hips harder, still having trouble stuffing his whole length inside your tight pussy. Not to mention, your walls are hugging him like a vice, and he resists the urge to bust a nut every time he looks down to where you both meet.
“Call me daddy, sweetie. Like how you did that night we played truth or dare.”
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, just like that. God, I love how well you take instructions even when you’re asleep. You’re so perfect for me, sweetheart. I need to move you into my house soon. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being an NFL player’s girlfriend? Getting fucked by me every single night till you can’t walk straight ever again. That’s just half of what I plan to do to you.”
Finally, finally, Ari bottoms out inside you, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy as he shudders with relief. You’re moaning sleepily underneath him but all he can focus on is the delicious squeeze of your walls against his thick dick, and how well you’ve taken him.
“Good girl.” Ari praises you, giving your ass another hard squeeze. “Taking your best friend’s dick so well, aren’t you? Or should I say, your daddy’s dick?”
“Daddy…” You mumble as if on cue.
“Damn right.”
Ari fucks you hard. Well, as hard as he can while still ensuring you remain asleep. He keeps a steady pace, unable to bite back his own moans of pleasure at the fact that he’s finally fucking you. And you look so pretty, your soft body underneath him, tensing and clenching around him like it’s your job to take his daddy dick in your little fuckhole.
He grabs a handful of your hair, tugging your head to the side and spitting down on your cheek. Loving how your nose scrunches up all cutely before he reaches out to smear his saliva all over your face, making you look as slutty as possible. Slutty just for him, because after tonight, no other man would ever have you like this. Or have you at all, for that matter.
“Tell me you love my daddy dick.” He repositions himself till he’s lying over you, his body pinning yours down and his chest against your back, his hips pistoning in and out of you at a steady pace. He licks the shell of your ear lewdly before nibbling on your earlobe, “Tell me you love it when daddy fucks you with his big daddy dick.”
“L-Luh your dick!”
“My what?” He slaps your ass, doing it hard even though he knows he’s pushing his luck.
“Love daddy’s dick.” You murmur dutifully, and Ari can’t believe you actually said it. A part of him wonders if it’s all an act and if you’re awake, but one look at your unconscious face, albeit sweaty and breathing hard, confirms you’re still out of it.
“Fuck, baby. Daddy can’t hold on much longer, your baby pussy is just too sweet.” Ari tells you, feeling his thrusts get faster and faster as he chases his release. But before he can even think of what’s happening next, he feels you clench around him hard.
“Nngh! Daddy!” You whimper and your body quivers and tries to toss and turn except he holds you in place, watching in awe as you cum. You squeeze his dick so tight he forgets to breathe momentarily, just watching your sweet cream squirt out of you as if you’re being paid to squirt all over him. He forgets about his own pleasure for a second, hand sneaking down and fingers finding your clit. You jolt in his arms, whimpering and moaning underneath him as he rubs your button, pinching it cruelly before slapping it. Alternating between circling and rubbing, and does he imagine it or are you humping up against his hand as he does it?
You let out the cutest squeak in the world before you cum once more, and it’s enough to tip Ari over the edge too. He grips you so hard, he knows it’ll leave bruises on your skin. But he doesn’t care, his dick explodes as he releases his heavy load inside you, not caring that he isn’t wearing a condom. Not caring that you’re not on the pill (he knows, because he makes it his business to know everything about you). The idea of getting you pregnant doesn’t deter him at all, despite the fact that he’s at the start of his NFL career. That doesn’t matter, being a football player’s pregnant wife is a look that would suit you well.
And the idea of you pregnant with his baby gets Ari hard all over again.
“Look what you’ve done, sweetie.” Ari tsk-tsks, “You’ve got daddy hard again.” He strokes your hair back, wiping the sweat off your face as you breathe hard underneath him, miraculously still asleep. “But don’t worry, I’ll give you a chance to catch your breath before I fuck you again.”
He lays on top of you, breathing hard with his dick still lodged inside you, stroking your hair and cuddling you close. And that’s when your eyes flutter open.
“Ari? What’s going on? Why do I feel so…so…”
“Shhh, baby, it’s just a dream.”
“It is?”
He sits up, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one before taking a long drag, looking down at your spent body that he’s just used and feeling extremely proud of himself. “Of course. Go back to sleep, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”
“Mmm,” The claws of sleep already have you closing your eyes again, and you snuggle up closer to him, a look of serenity on your face as if you haven’t just been fucked and filled with his cum. Cigarette between his lips, Ari offers you his thumb, smirking when you immediately encase it between your lips, sucking on it like it’s a lollypop.
“Love you, Ari. Thank you for always taking care of me.”
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FUCKEFNVD THE END! NFDKSLN IDEK! FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED PLS TELL ME WHAT OYU THINK AND REBLOG AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF THANK U BYEEE
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writingoddess1125 ¡ 1 year ago
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It seems like a great Morning for DEPRESSION!
You Pass Away Giving Birth
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Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile
⚠️Warning:⚠️ Depression, Death, Light gore, Character Death, Overall Saddness
Was listening to sad music and wrote this.
Buggy
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There had been complications from the start- being pregnant with twins always had this.. and truthfully Buggy had wanted to curse himself when he learned that he had accidently done this to you. However you remained optimistic- even at the face of peril.
Buggy had hired so many doctors, wanting at least one of them to save you but it seemed that fate was too tightly wrapped around you.
"Y-You're going to be fine I promise (Y/N)-" Buggy said desperately as he sat next to you, watching you battle for the lives of the babies. Another sobbing scream leaving you as doctors rushed in and out with new tools, techniques and more to keep you Alive. However the growing pile of bloody towels and bowls was a clue it wasn't working.
Your mission wasn't to survive but to save the children. Giving Buggys hand a tight bone breaking squeeze you pushed with all your might- Buggy saying words of encouragement till two new lives were brought into this world and you slacked against the bed, pale as paper and your breathing getting shallow.
They rushed the babies to the side of the room as Buggy leaned over you in a panic. Rubbing the hair from your face as he spoke in a panic seeing you slipping away.
"You did it! N-Now Don't leave me please (Y/N)! I'm begging you p-please" He sobbed, but you looked up at him.. gave a gentle smile and worded 'love you' one final time before slipping away right under his fingers... He sobbed and continued his desperate plea for you as he pressed his face against your cold on.
A nurse pulling him back slightly as his world seemed to blur around him- realizing the panic noises of the staff was not for you but for the twins. He didn't even have to say anything as the staff grew quiet at the single newborn cry in the room, sorrowful looks in their eyes as they looked to Buggy. One child laying still on the cot while the other was brought to him.
"I-Im so sorry- Only one survived" The midwife said softly and placed the tiny bundle in his arms still not cleaned and just wrapped in a blanket. Buggy held the suiviving twin, his body feeling cold and chest hollow as he stared down at her beautiful face.. She was so small... so fragile.
He felt his body shake as broken sobs left him and all he could do was hold her close to him, sobbing at the same time the newborn wailed.
"I-Its okay Cry away" He managed to say as he sobbed, feeling it was better in this moment and only this moment to not cry alone. He rocked the both of them in a desperate need to feel comfort at losing the love of his life and one of his children in one night..
He only glanced up from sobbing when the doctor placed a fresh white sheet over you and the deceased child's body. Covering it from sight as the Captian grieved.
Buggy smoothed a shaky hand over the newborn as the Midwife stepped forward to clearn off the newborn and get her dressed. Buggy not even realizing or caring the baby was covered in blood and goo. The midwife was quick, dressing the little girl and handing Buggy a bottle.
The new father still in a whirlpool of sorrow starred to feed her, still crying as before but with a broken smile on his lips.
"I-Im sorry you got saddled with me little one.. It's just us now.. You and me against it all" He said softly trying to ease his crying as the newborn began to down the bottle.
"You look like your mother... I-Im so happy for that... we hadn't figured out names yet, S-So hopefully your mother won't curse me but What about Mei-Mei? Hm?..." He managed as he pulled the empty bottle from her, holding her to his chest and patting her back as he continued to sob.
"Y-Yeah..My little Mei Mei"
Mihawk
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It was his fault... he should have stopped you- It was ment as a journey to find a doctor to assist in your soon to be delivery- Mihawk wanting to keep you behind but you insisted on coming along, but due to the enemies of the past it turned into a battle. Mihawk had been sure he had secured you in a safe place, away from the carnage but who would have known a young man barely out of his teens had spotted him and walked into the safe house with his gun raised and shot you-
He heard it, rushing back to slaughter the boy as he saw you laying there holding the wound to your chest and gasping for air.
Mihawk pressing against the wound to stop the bleeding but it was so close to your heart he was sure you grazed it. Your eyes widened as you touched his arm desperately tears flooding your gaze.
"S-Save them" You managed, Mihawk still pressing all the bullet wound on your chest before feeling your body go limp and heart stop right under his palm.
"No..." He growled, anger flooding his system as he was ready to burn this island to the ground- That was till your words rang in his ears and he placed his bloody palm on your stomach, Feeling the fluttering movement of his still alive child just before the surface. He knew what he had to do... Save them- Pulling the cross from his neck he uncapped it and took a shaky sigh.
"I-Im so sorry"
Mihawk felt for the first time his hands tremble, warm tears flooding his yellow eyes as he took a breath... he didn't have much time... Lifting the blade from his cross he struck down, cutting into your flesh as the warmth of your blood flooded his hands. Something he had never wanted to feel-
With care he cut through the corpse of your abdomen and to the womb- With skinned hands he pulled up his child and held them with care. Panic filling his eyes as he didn't hear a cry or them even move- Tossing the cross to the side he began to do cpr on the little girl, carefully forcing air into her lungs and trying to start her breathing.
"Please..." He whispered as he used three fingers to press on the little girls chest to start her heart, Before she coughed and began to wail into the night air. Mihawk sighing in relief and cutting the cord with his teeth unfortunately due to tossing the blade as he held the baby to his chest- Staring down at the gory mess that was you and he had to closed his eyes..
"I'm sorry (Y/N)..." He whispered both at having to disrespect your body even at your request.. and for you not being able to meet your guys daughter.
"... You were right.. a girl" He whispered, looking down finally at his child who was still crying- Shivering a bit from the cold so he took off his coat and wrapped her tightly in it.
"We will name here Meira.. the light of you" He whispered softly. He knew he needed to get his daughter medical attention but wasn't going to leave you like thisveither. So he buried you and placed all the flowers he could ontop of your makeshift grave- Walking away with his daughter in his arms to the closest village.
Crocodile
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It had all been going to well- yet in a second it changed.. You had gone into labor just hours before and Crocodile knew what to expect some pain, screaming and other discomforts before you gave birth to a healthy baby. However this? The back to back complications that left you exhausted and You had started to bleed during it all and the nurses started to panic...
You were fighting so hard, Crocodile holding your hand as you struggled to bring his child into the world. While his face was stoic and solid you knew the panic behind his eyes.. his wife the only one he would allow close to his heart- and the doctors were scrambling around you to ease the birth.
However you knew... you left it.. and Crocodile did as well.
"C-Croc promise me... you will love them like you love me..I love you" You manage to whisper out, Crocodile nodding hesitantly in agreement to your shaky words whispered voice managing out a 'I love you too'.
A cry ripped through your throat as another wash of pain hit you. Doctors trying to slow down the bleeding- After a few more desperate moments the doctors pulled the screaming child from between your legs. However that wasn't even highlighted as they scrambled to keep you Alive-
Crocodile being pushed to the side as they started CPR but- he felt it... he saw that final breath leave you and thay light fade from your eyes...
His world felt like it crumbled then, a nurse escorting him out to the benches just outside the room. Truthfully he was too dazed to care- the image of you gone still burning in his eyes.
Crocodile sat there in what could only be a state of shock- His wife was gone... ripped away due to his blood. It didn't take long for a skittish nurse to step forward, holding a blue bundle in her arms.
"I-Im sorry sir... I know there is nothing I can say to-" He shot her glare. Forcing her to shut up as she nodded and instead stepped forward to show him the bundle. There laid a plump baby, Crocodile felt his heart clench- especially when he could see the perfect mix between you and him.. Slowly he reached an arm out and took the baby slowly.
He watched the newborn yawn and cuddled into his chest carefully for warmth, sucking hard on the blue pacifier in his mouth as he clearly dreamt of food.
"...You are fortunate.. I loved your mother more then I can dislike you for taking her away... and I promised her" He said calmly down to the baby, holding him close as he stared down at the boys features. His mind drifting to you laying in bed next to him rubbing oil on the stretch marks of your swollen belly talking about all the hope you had for your child and the future...
"Hope... hm.. In honor of your Mother- your name is Kibo.. her last shred of hope"
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luxthestrange ¡ 3 months ago
Text
DrStone Incorrect quotes#1 Like Della and Donald-
Being Zenku's Older Sister but Tsukasa not knowing it and Un-stones you...the minute you have clothes you decide to find your brother knowing he isn't dead...the reunion of two siblings...
Would be truly touching!~...If were both normal-
Y/n then stands back and kicks the door open with a loud slam. You were completely appalled when you found out about the scene before you,seeing your brother with his science tools...like always
Both of you walk to one another almost in a trance...everyone feels something clench their chest...till the tender moment is ruined with both having angry outbursts-
Zenku&Y/n: UUUUGH!?!?
Y/n*Angrily* LEEK!?!
Zenku*Confused for a second seeing you*Y/N!?!
Kohaku's head peeked behind Zenku, completely confused by the ordeal, and looked over at the door
Kohaku: You know this woman?!
Zenku: Do I know them? That's my sister, gorilla!
Upon hearing that the Modern woman had crack marks in front of them,Kohaku face grew into total shock
Kohaku"Oh god there's two-"
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The Science kingdom notices you don't seem fond of seeing your brother in the lab. While Zenku and You were arms crossed as if you were such a disappointment
Y/n: What the fuck are you *gesturing to your brother* doing here, Leekhead?
Zenku: I should be asking you the same thing! You checked yourself out of rehab, no call, no note after the old man left for the moon, Now having to be tracked down like Predator we thought you were Tsukasa-
Kohaku*Seeing the two siblings bicker*...Do you think they are happier to see one another after being separated for ...more than 3700 years...
Chrome: Well...Zenku isn't an emotional man-
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brailsthesmolgurl ¡ 8 months ago
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1 YOU, 1 ME
This is a one-shot request by one of the lovely readers of mine, enjoy this one :) Although I must say, this brings me back to the days when I used to be suicidal, so the experiences of mine are translated into the form of reader's POV so that you would get to take a trip of what I had dealt with as well. Just as my other one-shot Delirious, I do not take mental health as to be a joke. I am here for you if you needed someone to talk to, just like how I know you would be supportive of my works. I would do my best to cater to you as well because YOU MATTER <3.
Warnings: Deals with HEAVY Topics, Depression Mentions, Heavy Angst but yes to fluff. Please please please refrain if you are easily influenced by such topics.
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XAVIER
When you had arrived at HQ today, Captain Jenna had approached you, handing you a file and informing you about the location of the wanderer as per usual. You studied the file, the wanderer looking like a saber-tooth, with fangs that could definitely pierced through skin like paper. "Good morning." You directed your head upwards and your partner stood by the side of your desk, a smile on his handsome features as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Good morning Xavier." You handed the blue file to him and he took it, opening up the page and started reading through the details just like you did. "This should be a relatively easy mission. You ready for it?" He gently placed the file onto your desk and he waited for you to get up, before walking at the same pace as you to get to the basement parking.
Xavier is wearing his white suit today, the silverish-blue garters an accessory that also serves as a tool. You can tell that he had a good sleep last night given that his blazer was pressed and there is barely a crease on it. Regardless, crumpling of clothings would be normal anyways given the dynamic range of movements hunters have to do to kill a wanderer.
The mission had ended early just like every other time. Your pairing is known to be the best due to the compatibility of Xavier's light evol and your Resonance evol, hence it is an added advantage when it comes to dealing with wanderers. Him dealing damage to one of the wanderers and your evol resonates the same act of his, inflicting damage upon other wanderers without you touching them.
"Shall we go and get something to eat?" Xavier asked you, readjusting his garter and wiping off some of the dried crusts of a wanderer's bodily fluids off of his shoulders.
You flicked your hand, your weapon disappearing on call and you looked over to him. "It's alright. I am a little tired. I'm just gonna head home for the night." You turned and started heading towards the direction of your parked motorcycle, the moonlight only being your source of lighting.
"Wait, don't wander around alone." His warned, footsteps catching up to yours effortlessly. "You might get lost in this forest you know."
Your lack of comeback made him ran his palm across the back of his neck out of embarassment. If only you are still interested in his facial features, then you might just be able to catch sight of him blushing bashfully. "My bike's here. I'm gonna head off. Enjoy your meal." You did not give him any time to revert the same to you. You just hiked up onto your bike and rode off into the night.
The same situation happened for a couple more times, till he got used to it. You would appear for missions, complete it and then you would leave. Just like how he did last time when you first met him but now the tables have seemingly turned. He watched you as you tried to control your breath after the wanderer was defeated. This time it was a huge creature, with a large tail lined with huge spikes that could kill with one swipe and it took the both of you a bit more time than usual to defeat it.
"Hey, y/n, do you---" He walked closer to you, leaning down to get a better view of your hidden face. The long hair of yours a brunette curtain.
"No Xavier, I am fine." You assumed he was going to ask you out for dinner but you were quick to reject, not wanting to add on to anymore complications. "I just needed some time to myself."
"I was meaning to ask, if you are okay?" He stopped for a tad bit. "Is everything alright?"
Your nod was curt but his frown is becoming more prominent by every added minute. "I can tell something is wrong y/n."
"Perhaps I have not been getting enough sleep recently." You dismissed him, walking towards your bike with him following behind you in quickened footsteps. "But I can assure you I am fine."
"But, you barely come to HQ and you have been excusing yourself from dinner with me after missions. Your reason for the past few times have only been 'I am fine' and 'I am tired' which is what's concerning me." He came up to you, obstructing you from getting onto your motorbike.
"Xavier." Your voice lowered. "I just want to go home and rest." With your tone, the blondie gave up, sighing and stepping aside to let you get onto your bike and he watched as you revved your engine and darted off into the embrace of the darkness.
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✧
The rings of your doorbell beckoned you to get up and off of your couch, the drama on your television turning into white noise in the back. Not that you were actually watching it anyways, the screen was on but your mind was floating elsewhere. This time however, you did not falter into your state of guilt, rendering you a chance to actually sit in still silence. You are admittedly taken aback at the sound of your doorbell ringing as you do not have any visitors checking in anytime soon including Tara. You took your time to get to the door, not even bothering to check the peephole and you swung open your door.
Here he is now, in front of your door, looking down at you from his towering height, with a casual outfit and a pizza box in his hands. Yes, he did pretended he was the pizza man just to get you to open up the door for him. Now he also knows that the peephole is just a decoration for your door.
The sight of you however, made his jaw dropped mentally. Your arm was littered in cut marks, in different shapes and depth, but the crusting of the scabs tells him that this had happened a couple of days ago. You nervously pulled your sleeves down to hide your scars, making intense eye contact with the ground. It did not hit you for you to cover your scars as to a stranger, they would care less of what happens behind your doors. But maybe much of a dismay towards Xavier. He occupied himself within your door frame and you staggered backwards.
"What's wrong?" He placed the pizza box onto the shelf next to him and he gently took your arm, pushing the sleeve up. Your hiss made him halted his actions, eyeing you for a further reaction before he spoke. "Why did you do this?"
"I..." You could not make up any words, tears gathering at the back of your eyes. The guilt flowing its way through your system instantly. It was like you lost all of your control and succumbed to your emotions. The emotions that you were so scared of showing to anyone. Especially to Xavier. With him being your partner, and your crush. You did not want him to report this to the team, and you certainly do not want him to think differently about you. "I...I was scared..." Your fist tightening. "I didn't want to lose anyone else like how I lost Tara."
Ever since that day you found out about Tara's death, you got lost. Blaming yourself was the only viable way for you to forgive yourself. She was stuck with some rookie to go and defeat a wanderer on the day you had called in sick. It was that specific mission with the inexperience rookie that got both her and the rookie killed.
Yes, it has nothing to do with you but it also has EVERYTHING to do with you. What if you did not report in sick that day? Maybe things would have had a better turn? And maybe, just maybe Tara would be able to pull through till you arrived on the scene? You remembered, the way she stared at you as she laid on the battlefield, blood oozing out of all of her orifices. Her eyes a window to her soul, opened but lifeless. As if she died hoping you could have arrived on time.
Xavier said nothing, his breaths slow and steady. Approaching you, the blond haired man pulled you in by your waist, his grip solid. You had sunken into the hole of self-blame, rotating around a death circle and at this point, Xavier could do nothing but to tell you that he is here for you, through his actions. "It's not your fault that she lost her life, y/n. Please don't blame it on yourself. I am sure Tara would not want you to do this to yourself either." He slowly lifted your arm up, analysing the wounds. They are skin deep but not deep enough to damage your skin permanently but he had to wash this and wrap this up quickly before it evolves into a nasty infection.
"I just couldn't stop myself Xavier. It hurts so much in my head that physical pain is the only way to relief it." You croaked with your dry throat. "I just felt so sad you know. Like it really hurts my heart. I don't know what is this feeling." After the first few hours of you losing Tara, you experienced nausea and headaches. Then comes the crying and the grief and then to the self-blame. You had read up about mental pain being able to manifest itself into physical pain but you were too ignorant of how severe this may be. So severe to the point that you had to result to self-harm to remind yourself of the pain you had to go through because of your carelessness. Leading you towards the bathroom, the boy was careful in his words and steps. "I believe this is what one would call grief. It hurts so much mentally that it hurts you physically as well. In this case, you have to hurt yourself to relieve the pain and I think it is time for you to meet a psychiatrist y/n." He sat you down onto the toilet seat and took out the medical kit from your cabinet. His words gave you the confirmation of what you had read about being factual. Kneeling down, he seeked for your confirmation with an alcohol pad in his hand.
When you nodded, he dabbed the pad across your arm and you bit onto your lips harshly to stop yourself from screaming out in agony. You do not deserve to scream as you had done this to yourself. His pause made you look at him. "You do not have to hold back. If it hurts, you can scream. If it hurts, you can cry. If it hurts still, you can talk to me." His eyes were sincere, the cerulean orbs a vast ocean, inviting you to be within his embrace as he opened up his arms to you.
And you fell, straight onto your knees and you grabbed onto his shirt, the blood crusts on your sleeve staining his shirt in the progress but the both of you could care less. You needed a good cry while he knows that you needed comfort. "It's alright y/n, I am here for you. I will always be here for you." His fingers ran through your hair, tucking some stray strands behind your ear, your body shook with every sob you took. "I just need you to know that regardless what happens, you can always tell me. I will never leave you alone, I can't bear to see you in this state because I love you." His sudden confession halted your cries for a moment, staring up at him with the ugliest look you got.
At this moment, you really wished that you could take any other days to hear his confession rather than hearing it from him when you are in such a vulnerable state. Seriously, who would want to get a confession when they are having a break down and they have tears and snot streaked on their face as part of their 'makeup'?
"You are saying this because you pity me, don't you?" You were ready to pull back, a slither of embarassment passed your expressions. "I do not need your pity."
"I do not pity you, y/n. In fact, I had always been admiring you for the things you do. You had uphold yourself well despite you are struggling so much. I really do like you and no matter what I will always be here for you." He reinstated his point and you grabbed hold onto his neck, crying even louder, strained voice echoed through your bathroom.
"I thought, I really thought I would have to deal with this all by myself. I can't, I never know that I am this weak." Your cries a reflection of your sadness and your relief, knowing that you can finally put your heart at rest, not having to deal with the grief all alone like how you always done it to yourself. Xavier placed his hand under your chin again and you looked up into his eyes of blue, with him leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. The death cycle shall come to an end.
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ZAYNE
You tapped your feet onto the tiled floor impatiently. Clack, clack, clack. If anyone were to be within your vicinity now, your tapping against the floor would definitely be another added on frustration towards their state. Eyes darting everywhere, focusing on one thing to another. The door in front of you still remained tightly shut. The smell of antiseptic a constant fragrance within the hospital and you were about to get a headache.
You are up for your monthly routine check-up and meeting Zayne has always been nerve-wrecking, not because your heart is desperately trying to jump its way out of your chest and to give Zayne a hug, but it is also because you would like him to examine your brain as well. You figured something has been wrong with you mentally recently, after Tara's death to be exact. You get hot flashes at night, waking up at ungodly hours and sometimes, just sometimes, you would just want to lie in bed all day and not wanting to do anything, let alone eating.
You could not pinpoint exactly what was going wrong until the day you woke up from a nightmare, your chest tightened in a way you had never experienced before. Your breaths short and rushed, but no air was going into your lungs. Your throat had constricted airflow as well, choking you till your tears are being squeezed out of your eye sockets. It was until you had to scratch your arm till you bleed then you only regained consciousness, your breathing slowed, airways opening to welcome the fresh breaths of air that you were restrained from. You thought it was an allergy reaction for a moment but you were sure none of the allergies would get you to paw through your arm, breaking the skin barrier and seeing crimson red to replace the pain you had felt a while ago. Something is clearly wrong.
You had chose to wear a loose sweater today, not wanting to reveal your so-called battle scar to random strangers. Not wanting them to judge you for 'Im so emo, I hurt myself to be cool and I preach that battle scars are a sign for me fighting for my life in everyday society'. You can hear that in your own head, slowly succumbing into a state of blurred vision as you lowered your head, your vision darkening. "It's your turn." The familiar voice brought you out of your own reverie. Another shadow loomed over your hunched body, with straight shoulders and what seemed to be an outline of a long coat, you knew it was Zayne.
"Yeah." You stood up slowly and followed behind the cardiologist into his room. As usual, you took a seat next to his desk, the padded seat warm to your bum. A knob twisting, in suit with a locking sound, it marks the start for your checkup session. The room was filled with tension, as Zayne ran his stethoscope down your back, listening cautiously to your heartbeat as you took in deep breaths. The man's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed as if your heartbeat had an arrythmia. "What is it?" You asked, noticing that the listening session of his is unusually longer then usual.
"It seems like your heartbeat is slower. And there were slight staggers of arrhythmia on your right atrium. I should run some bloodtests and perhaps get an MRI scan on your heart as well." He retracted the stethoscope away from your back and walked to the front of you, fingers scooped your chin up and you looked at the man in front of you now. Standing tall, with broad shoulders that could be spotted underneath the bulky medical coat of his. He is in his blue scrubs today, perhaps a surgery aligned earlier on and he did not have much time to change out of it.
He took a small flashlight the shape of a pen out of his coat and he leaned down, a waft of his cologne hitting your nose. Minty fresh with a mix of antiseptic, that is what he smells like on the days he has a full schedule ahead. You peeled open you eyes wider and he flashed the light into your pupils, his hazel green orbs in an uncalled staring competition with you. "Pupils are functioning well as usual, but I do realise some redness at your whites. Have you been getting enough sleep?" A slight hint of him caring for your quality of sleep went away as fast as it arrived.
"I...Actually..." Your lips froze, words forming at the tip of your tongue but you could not roll out any of them. It was like your brain was subconsciously begging you not to tell Zayne, in order to not ruin his impressions of you being a healthy individual. He is a doctor, what harm would that cause if you were to tell him that you had been experiencing some mental issues these past few days? Perhaps he would just throw you some medical facts, ask you to drink more water and you should feel better in a day or two.
Then you recalled when your grandmother had passed, he did not show any bits of sympathy towards you other than passing on the box that was left behind by your late grandmother. He did not even ask if you were doing alright when you sat right here in his office, trying so hard to hold those choked sobs back. The thought of him not showing any sympathy towards you during the loss of your grandmother gave you the ultimate decision that you will not reveal anything to him. "I had been sleeping late these days because of paperwork."
The doctor sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the glasses sat comfortably at the bump he has on his nose. "If its so, try not to procrastinate in the afternoon and actually do your paperwork instead of rushing them all at once in the middle of the night." His sound advice not a bit helpful to your fib. "You wearing a long sleeved sweater in the middle of summer would cause you to get a heat stroke, which would directly affect your heart as well. So I would advice you to keep cool whenever you can." He sat down in his chair, picking up a pen and started scribbling away on the prescription tab. "As for now, take these medications for your arrhythmia. Once the MRI is scheduled I will get the nurse to contact you to come in for the scan."
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✧
"Y/n." Tap tap tap. "Y/n wake up." An oddly familiar voice drowned your hearing, your body lifted off of the floor by a force. "Y/n. Please wake up." The smell of antiseptic filled your nose and your eyes slowly opened up, the blinding lights above made it hard for you to adjust to your surroundings. Your name was called out again and you turned your head a little, catching sight of Zayne, his eyes slightly widened. He was staring at you as if he had seen a ghost. You could barely remember what happened. Ringing in your heads made you winced and the man pulled you tighter within his arms. Your face now against his hard torso. "What happened?"
You blinked your eyes a couple more times and you looked down. Blood pooled on your wooden floors, the wax layered on top of it preventing the liquid from seeping through. Your arms were streaked in red, the evidence clear as daylight underneath your fingernails. It probably happened again, did it? "I...I don't know." You responded weakly, your lips equivalent to sandpaper. "I don't know what happened."
Zayne pushed you back a little and he held your arm up by your wrist, eyeing over all of the bloody and deep scratches to search for a sign of infection. Perhaps, a sign for why would you do this to yourself as well. Zayne decided to come by your abode when you had missed out on your MRI appointment, him knowing that you would not purposely miss out on any medical appointments and even if you have to, you would at least have the decency to make a call to inform.
That day when you left the room, he noticed your charm was lacking, your retorts were non-existent, and your face was ghoulish. You struggling to tell him a piece of your mind, only to retract back and say that you fell asleep late due to paper work caught the doctor off-guard as well. But he is not the type to intrude, to ask you questions that you would not want to answer.
He came by, searching under your potted plants for the key and it was slotted right beneath the jasmine pot that he had given you as a congratulatory present when you got accepted into Unicorn. His heart inexplicably felt warm at the thought of you still caring for the jasmine till this day. He twisted the key into the doorknob and it clicked open, slotting himself right into your doorway and he looked through your apartment. It looked neat, but the lights were not turned on. He heard a loud thud and his footsteps reacted to it, carrying him across your living room and towards your bedroom.
Another thud, this time louder, echoed through your room and he opened the door hastily, immediately catching sight of your body, laying on the floor, jolting as if you were shocked by an invisible electric current. You are having a seizure, in a pool of blood that he could only assume belonging to you. He took three long strides and he was shocked to his core. Your arms were littered with long and narrow open wounds, the culprit being your blood stained fingers. Your eyes were flipped to the back of your head, veins popped out of your neck as one of your hand latched itself onto your forearm and yo dug deeper into your wounds. "Y/n!" He shouted, unbuttoning his sleeves and pushing them up his forearm and he dived down onto his knees to heave you towards him, away from the wall.
He immediately started doing CPR, going according to the beat as he switched between pumping your chest and blowing air into your mouth. The effectivity of the CPR started kicking in when your convulsions started to calm down, your body going from tensing to limp and you laid unmoving on the floor. He leaned down to get a good hearing of your heart. It is beating in a normal rhythm, a good sign that you are still alive. The arrhythmia is gone now but the soon-to-be scars on your arms is the next thing he worries about.
He did not understand, none of the theories he had studied about one's physicality applied. The heart arrhythmia, the sight of you convulsing on the floor, the hearings of your choked breaths as he watched you, the skin deep lacerations inflicted upon yourself only with the use of your fingernails. None of the symptoms matched any of his medical theories. i am not a doctor, pls dont chew me on this :,)
Unless it has something to do out of his field, which is the mental aspect. Zayne being a doctor, although succeeded at a relatively young age, but his expertise has always been within the field of cardiology. Of course he has friends within the psychological field, but it never struck him that you would end up with a mental illness. You had always been fit as a fiddle in his eyes, both mentally and physically. But all it takes is for two accidents in a row to trigger the mental illness for you. If its so, why did you not tell him anything about it? Why did you keep it all to yourself? He knew he should have said something, he should have stayed by your side when he found out about Tara's death. It was too short of a timeframe for you to be dealing with two deaths within a few months' gap.
"It's alright, you will be okay. Everything will be alright." He only remembered during one of the mental illness campaigns he was asked to attend, they taught of ways to identify individuals experiencing mental illness and very little was talked about how can one deal with someone who is having an episode. The speaker said something about acceptance, comfort and validation. And that is to the extent of what Zayne knows.
"Y/n, I need you to take in deep breaths, I need you to calm down." He could not treat her just like any other patient in this damn moment. This vulnerability of hers is new territory for him, but it shows that she is not as strong as she portrays herself to be and this part of her provoked him to want to be there for her even more than before.
"I don't know...I don't know why I am like this." You trembled in his arms, your head spinning and you felt like you were about to taste bile anytime.
"And it is not your fault, y/n." His voice is calm, soothing to your ears. You could feel his hot breath against the shell of your ear and you looked up at him, the lights above him forming an angelic halo. "It shall never be your fault." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I am sorry that I was never there for you. From now on, let me be there for you." Other than the kiss on your forehead being a shock factor, the fact he wanted to be involved in your life and your 'journey-to-recovery' made your heart skipped an extra beat. "I promise you, from now on, I will always be by your side, only when you want me to."
You lifted your hand up to touch his cheeks, your palm cold to the touch on his warm face. You swore you saw him blushed for a mere second. "Of course I would want you to be by my side Zayne." And he gave you a comforting smile. The man then slowly inched down, eyes looking between your eyes and lips. When you tilt your head upwards, he took it as your consent and you both shared the first kiss.
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RAFAYEL
"Do you want that?" Rafayel asked you, index finger pointed right at a banana boat plushie. Two 'flavours' to be picked from, one with the usual chocolate, vanilla and strawberry theme while the other has a caramel, vanilla and banana theme. You were about to pick for the latter but the man standing beside you was quicker in calling out shots. "I think the original one would fit you better. The colour theme just looks more harmonious than the other."
You watched as he picked up the dart and aimed it towards the target. He pulled his wrist back and with a flick, the dart landed onto the target's bullseye. The stall owner did not look a bit amused, probably thinking that he could scam Rafayel enough money for a meal. Walking over to the banana boat plushie, the guy took it down and handed it to Rafayel over the counter. "Thanks." You smiled, hugging the plushie when he gave it to you.
"Where is my hug?" Rafayel looked betrayed, the signature pout of his surfacing. "I was the one who scored you Mr.Babana here." Yes, he called it Babana. Smiling, you went over to him, arms opened wide and you hugged him, your head settling right into his chest. He smelled of grapefruit and white wood, with a splash of peach as the base. You thought he only used one perfume for all types of events as he has voiced his dislike for strong smelling scents but you were clearly wrong. Musky smelling ones for when he attends interviews, fresh smelling ones for when he attends events, and sweet smelling ones are only reserved for his outings with you.
His chin was propped right above the top of your head, and he smells fresh shampoo. You nagging him about how sakura composites are good for the hair recently is enough for him to know what shampoo you are currently using. To Rafayel, you are not that hard to decipher. In fact, you may be one of the most uncomplicated character he had ever met in his life. Your genuine emotions and expressions a direct reflection to your conscience and that is exactly why he likes you.
"Thank you for the Mr.Babana." You chuckled, pulling away from the hug but his arms remained on your shoulder, he would have opted to hold your waist but he wanted to make sure that you would not be uncomfortable in this situation.
"My pleasure of course." He mimicked your smile and this time, the both of you took a step back from each other and then walked down the path together. The cobblestones beneath your shoe reflecting the lights from the parade, painting them in all sorts of colours that offers more variety than a rainbow. "Y/n, I have to travel abroad tomorrow to attend one of my exhibitions. So, I was wondering once I am back from my business trip, would you like to go out with me again?"
Him informing you about the business trip made you hesitant to answer him. Not because you did not want to go out on a date with him again. You just did not want to be alone. Not when you had just lost a friend to a wanderer. All of the smiles you had presented today are genuine, but deep down, you were worried your remorse would eat you up and ruin the whole date for today. The last thing you want is for Rafayel to be on the receiving end for your breakdowns.
"I am waiting for a yes." You jolted at how close he is to your face, you could practically feel his breath against your skin. He smirked, taking a step back to give you some breathing space, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans. The young man today adorned a fitted black tshirt with a pair of jeans, pairing over it is a jean jacket. Simple outfit but definitely looks amazing on him.
"Y...yeah, of course we can Rafayel." You looked down, nervously trying to calm your hyped heartbeats. With that, the date between you two came to an end, with Rafayel fetching you home safely and making sure you got into your home before he drove off.
┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✧
Rafayel had left for his business trip for the past two days. And for the past two days, it can only be described as hellish for you. Jerking yourself off of your bed, you sat straight, eyes widened as cold sweat trickled down the back of your neck. Yet another nightmare, the same one every night. With the sight of Tara laying on the traylike bed in the morgue, awaiting for you to identify her. She was as pale as the walls surrounding her, her body laid rigid, and her eyes closed. It almost seemed like she was asleep but you knew right then and there, she would not be able to open her eyes anymore.
She had a wound the size of a bullet in between her eyebrows. They called it a fatality spot as anything that is sharp enough to penetrate that area and passing the skull would be guaranteed an instant death. Just like what Tara had gone through. The wound however, according to autopsy, was inflicted by something biological, so bullets are out of the question and the only answer you could think of is the act of a berserk wanderer. You kept trying to blink, assuming that if you blinked hard enough, Tara would be able to rise again and everything would be back to how it was like. But, that's not the case most of the time.
Instead of accepting her death, you chose to deny it. Ironic, your identification process of Tara in the morgue is validated but you yourself chose to not accept the reality of her death. You even refused to go to her funeral the day after tomorrow, claiming to yourself that it would only make you hate yourself more than anything else. You were not there when it happened as you were sent onto another mission, a much tougher one that involves civillians. So, Tara was assigned this mission, just to deal with a bunch of wanderers. Or so you heard, but her wound says otherwise. Whatever wanderer she had been dealing with is certainly way beyond what she could handle.
The date between you and Rafayel took place the day after her funeral so the wounds of your grief still remained fresh. With that stated analogy, the first few days of your denial marks the start of your wounds, freshly cut opened, breaking off the surface of the skin barrier but still not deep enough to leave a scar. Now you are in phase two, where blood starts seeping through the wound as it has broken through the skin barrier, cutting deeper. This is where the nightmares become more and more revolting, more and more realistic that you have a hard time differentiating between your trance and reality.
You buried your face into Mr.Babana and you cried like there is no tomorrow. You had to get it out somehow, and the best way you could think of is to cry yourself to sleep again and pray hard so that you would not have a continuation of the nauseating nightmare. When you opened your eyes again, you were met with the warmth of the sunlight peeking in through your window. Sunlight in general, is known to promote energy boosting for one's body but right now, it only did the opposite for you.
Your phone rang, drowning out the sounds of your ugly cries. Shimmying towards you bedside, you held up your phone and you saw the contact name 'Your Favourite Fishie'. You specifically recalled that you had saved his name under Rafayel, but when did it got changed? Maybe it was during that time when he was playing on your phone while his was charging and he seized the opportunity to change his name into something so ridiculous like this. You sniffled, trying to calm your breathing the best possible and you answered the call. "Hello." You croaked out. Shit.
"Hey, y/n. Did I happen to wake you up?" His voice came through the other side of the call. He sounded borderline concern.
"No, you didn't don't worry. I woke up to use the washroom." You spoke, if he were to be in front of you right now, he would be nagging you to speak up but thank goodness your phone has a good microphone to pick up your small volume. "How is your exhibition going?"
"Boooring." You can tell he was rolling his eyes to the back of his head. "That's why I am already on my way back. I will arrive in probably half an hour. So would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
Contemplating, you knew that if you were to meet him in 30 minutes, your puffy face would lead to a telltale sign that you had just cried. Then, you assumed that Rafayel would be disappointed with you. You see, Rafayel had never been the type to submit towards pressure, instead, he is a notorious rebel towards it. It is like he has something personal against stress. With your current status, you immediately felt like you are not worthy to be spending your time with him. Let alone having to have a huge crush on him. What makes you think that he would like you back if he found out about your current state of distress? He would definitely not want to deal with such an issue.
"Actually, today I am not free. I have stuffs to do." You gnawed onto your lip.
Pouting, the purple haired man crossed his legs nonchalantly, sitting himself comfortably in his luxurious car as Thomas drove it. "Like what stuffs?"
You panicked, eyes watery and you sniffled. "I have to go to the doctors. I am having a flu and I don't want to infect you."
Rafayel heard that sniffle of yours and he immediately replied. "Oh, alright. Then you rest well okay? There will always be some other day that I can bring you out for a nice dinner so you owe me that alright?"
"Yeah okay." And the call ended with him saying 'bye and take care'. Hanging up the phone, your lips quivered, chills ran down your spine as you started hesitating about whether you should still stay in contact with Rafayel. You could not possibly land him to be your boyfriend, where did the confidence come from? "I am just not worth it." Your cries then came back.
The next hour went by and you were laying in your bed the whole time, no will to move, no appetite, no will to even meet anyone. You just wanted to succumb to your loneliness, the sound of the fan is the only voice you can hear. The only company you have for now. You had just calmed down from your break down, your eyes full on puffy now and you are experiencing after-cries hiccups. Your mind had a constant voice, reminding you of just how useless you are not only at your job, but also your incapability to keep your emotions in check. Feeling overwhelmed, you curled into a ball and just allow the tears to flow.
The door to your room creaked open but it did not faze you. You were too caught up with the voices in your head but Rafayel's voice made you covered your ears. You are delusional now, great. Until a hand touched your shoulder then you snapped your head towards the source, met with purplish-blue eyes that were filled with utmost concern for you. "Hey, hey what happened?" He climbed onto your bed and sat right in front of you, his large hands cupping your small face, his thumb drew over your cheeks, dismissing your tears. "Why are you crying y/n? Did someone hurt you?"
Your silence marks the end of his questioning and he pulled you into his chest. His solid torso cushioning your head as he laid down with you in his arms, on top of him. "Shh, it's alright." Rafayel held you close to him. "I know things have been tough for you."
"We should stop meeting." Your desolating suggestion made him pulled back in shock, his eyes scanning your face for any smiles or hints of it being a joke but he did not find any at all. "I like you Rafayel, and I think this is not healthy for you."
"Who are you? The moral police? Who are you to determine what is healthy or not for me?" His eyebrows are furrowed in frustration. "Even if you want to push me away, you can't because I am in love with you y/n. I am so madly in love with you that I kept thinking about you everyday, everything that I see reminds me of you, every artwork that I inspect at the exhibition only related to you. So, you can't push me away, no matter how hard you try."
"But, whatever I am experiencing now, it makes me think I am not worth---" His finger silenced you, pressing it against your lips to ask you to shut up politely.
"Do not speak for me y/n. As much as I like to hear your voice, I do not want to hear such unflattering ideas from your pretty head okay?" He ran his hand down the sides of your cheek, his gaze loving. "I want you to know that, I will never let you cry alone, ever again. Do not worry about me being stressed out or anything about you not being able to be in control of your emotions. I am sure I can handle anything when it comes to you, for I had waited a long time for someone like you y/n. Annnnd I will not let something as simple as you going through a period of depression push me away. So, why don't you do me a favour and tell me what is going on in that pretty head of yours?"
His confession surely warmed your heart, with you staring at him in disbelief. You know he had always been showing signs of him being interested in you, but you never thought you would be able to catch sight of him being empathetic towards you. Your sobs came again, this time much more stronger and you leaned into him, spending the day telling him about everything that you had went through and ended up sleeping next to him. Rafayel propped himself up on his elbow and he watched your features, puffy and reddish but you did not lack your beauty amidst all of the chaos you have to go through. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, a promise to you that he would stay with you forever.
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This is the end of this one-shot and sorry my lovelies, this will not be getting an extra episode or anything. It shall only be ending here :,)
P.S: These are part and parcel of my actual experiences, hence I do not downplay or look down on anyone who are struggling with mental illness. As I know it is very tough to get over it. The part where Rafayel had spoken to reader, where he would be by his side blah blah, was actually what my boyfriend told me when I was having a terrible panic attack. So please my girlies, do not settle for the bare minimum and lower your standards for a guy/gurl who could not be better for you. Because you all deserve happiness oki.
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igotanidea ¡ 10 months ago
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Forgetter: Jason Todd x reader
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This was one hell of a day.
(this narrator got a feeling like she's been using this line in the story way too often, but hey! Y/N had a really busy and hectic life so what do you expect me to say?)
No, but seriously.
When she got into the shop in the morning before work to do some quick grocery and saw the flowers and buquetes standing pretty much everywhere, her first thought was what's the occation.
Took her three hours to realise the date on the calendar.
February 14th
St. Valentine's Day.
And it made her smile wondering what kind of gift her beloved boyfriend would offer her. Honestly she would be over the moon with just one flower or a simple card, but knowing Jason and his deeply hidden romantic soul he would go for something original.
So all that was left was waiting for the evening till the end of her shift and getting home to have some hearty celebration.
***
8 hours passed in a blur. Between a ton of people wanting something, new cases and stuff needed ASAP or even yesterday, stupid photocopier that refused to cooperate and a few small but quite painful paper cuts there wasn't much time to fantasise.
And all she needed for some love, peace and quiet, perhaps a glass of wine and chocolate, movie and cuddles with her favourite teddy bear while whispering sweet words of some long forgotten Romanticism poet.
Instead, she walked in on a blood stain on the floor. A red trail starting from the window and leading to the kitchen.
KITCHEN.
Out of all places that was the one he decided to crawl into, and it made her shiver. There might have been a few reasons behind his (lack-of) logic, but this room was the only one filled with sharp tools perfect for defence. Or attack. Depending on the side.
"JASON!!?!?" she yelled dropping her bag on the floor and completely forgetting about the necessity of keeping quiet while in a potentially dangerous situation. "JACE WHERE ARE YOU!?!?!" she frantically rushed to the kitchen searching for dead bodies or chopped limbs.
There was no such thing.
But-
the pile of dirty dishes in the sink
the mobs of clothes begging for laundry
unidentified stains on the floor, the origin of which she didn't even want to guess
and the smell of burning.
and her wonderfully wonderful boy wonder sitting in the middle of it all, shirtless (which may have been a mildly mitigating circumstance) with some new fresh cuts and bruises (which were definitely aggravating the situation) patching himself up.
"Hey princess." he said jauntily sending her the most charming smile as if this was all normal.
"Jace--" she opened her mouth to say something, anything but no words came out and she just froze in the middle of the kitchen with empty eyes fixed on his silhouette.
"Hey. Hey Y/N? What happened? Look at me." despite the stinging and half-applied stiches he got alarmed and was by her side immediately. "Baby. Come on, talk to me." his hand on her cheek brought her back to reality.
"What- What is all this?" she half-sobbed waving her hand around the mess.
"Oh, yeah, right, sorry about that. Didn;t really have much time for the house maintenace today. I got a trail of this villain that-"
"Villain....?" she stuttered. Any other day, any other night she wouldn't say a thing about his Red Hood duties, but 14th? Did it mean nothing to him.
"Yeah, I've been hunting him down for weeks now and-"
"Jason..."
"I got involved and lost sense of time I guess while--"
"Jason..."
"Look I promise I will clean it later, after --"
"TODD!" she yelled in frustration
"WHAT?" he spat back instinctivelly getting into fighting mode when her scream spurred him on. "shit. sorry. Sorry baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you... Hey! Hey Y/N, please, don't cry!" the tears falling down her cheeks were both confusing and heartbreaking "god. fuck. I'm sorry. I;m so sorry..." he muttered wrapping arms around her and pulling her to his chest feeling guilty like never before.
"What day is today...?" she sobbed, the words a bit muffled due to the squeeze.
"Wednesday."
"What day of the month?!"
"14th...." his eyes grew wide "Oh, holy fuck...."
The amount and variety of curses that rushed through his head are not to be repeated here.
The one that took the spotlight though was something along the line of him being a total fuckup for forgetting the so-called most romantic day of the year.
Holy fucking mother fuckery fuck. (yeah, I know what I said before about not quoting his thoughts, but screw it, he was wailing in self-hatred).
And even if it meant nothing to him, it meant so much to her. And she was his girlfrend, his lover, his soulmate so this was a huge, huge failure on his part.
"Y/N..." he whispered not sure how to proceed but knowing well enough he had to thread carefully. "Y/N, princess, please forgive me...." the grip on her body tightened significantly as Jason headed to the rage fit and was barely holding back from punching a wall in blind fury on himself for letting her down.
"I just wanted some quality time with you..."
"Quality time?" he repeated. That was a surprise. So she didn;t want flowers? Jewellery? Chocolate? A spa weekend? An expensive shopping on his expense. Cause he would give her all that if she said a single word. But she chooses...
"Yeah, quality time." she pulled back and looked up into those remorseful green eyes. "Just you and me. No vigilante. No Red Hood. I know it's a lot to ask, but please... please..., be Jason Todd for me tonight."
"Y/N." his tone was serious and she knew what was coming.
"Ok... Ok, I get it..." she muttered, avoiding his eyes, wriggling to escape his embrace.
"Don't you move away from me, you silly girl!" he grabbed her waist again and carried her to the couch bridal style. "Quality time. You want it you got it."
"Did you just paraphrase--"
"Ariana Grande. Yes. But trust me, she got nothing on you."
"Does it mean--?"
"I'm staying with you. But only on one condition."
"And what may that be?" she smiled softly, nuzzling against his chest.
"You get into your silly head that I love you every day of the freaking year, ok? I don;t need those five special days to go overboard while forgetting the other 360. My love is always with you."
"You only say it cause you're too much of a pussy to admit you fucked up." she teased, but smiled fully through the remnants of the tears
"Oh did I really?" he brushed lips over hers "did I really fuck up?"
"Big time..."
"guess that leaves me 364 days left to beg for your forgiveness."
"Idiot!" she punched his chest playfully
"Come on sweatheart we both know you love me." he grabbed her wrist and kissed the inside of it before planting soft pecks on each of her knuckles while looking deep into her eyes.
"Yeah... you keep telling yourself that..." she hummed.
She loved him.
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One of my favorite additions that the MDZS adaptations gave us was the little detail that, in addition to storing Emperor’s Smile in his room, Lan Wangji also stored bamboo flutes and was implied to have learned how to carve them and did so on a regular basis.
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I just really like the idea that even though he didn’t know if Wei Wuxian would come back, he was preparing for it anyway. He raised Lan Sizhui and tried to train the juniors to be open-minded and unbiased, he held the weight of his whip scars and the sun brand on his chest, he filled his room with Emperor’s Smile that he might never be able to give Wei Wuxian.
I like to think Lan Wangji was learning to carve bamboo flutes even before Wei Wuxian died, since his methods of expressing himself often manifest in secret actions rather than words. Before he knew it, he found himself taking an interest in making dizi flutes and had a collection of them building up - and Lan Xichen is watching with a knowing gaze and offers to tune the flutes to help him improve (does Lan Wangji know how to play any flutes? I assume Lan Xichen knows somewhat how to play a dizi even though his Liebing is a xiao but I'm not a floutist so idk). Bonus angst if Lan Wangji ended up burning a pile of flutes every time he had a breakdown about Wei Wuxian being dead. Then he just goes around carving more.
The original novel has Wei Wuxian using the same out-of-tune bamboo flute nearly till the end, but like - Lan Wangji seeing Wei Wuxian playing badly just to (poorly) hide his identity and then Lan Wangji being so madly eager to show off his skills that he prepared just to serve Wei Wuxian at any and all times. He just whips out a bamboo shaft and a carving tool, and masterfully makes a flute in moments, and Wei Wuxian is oblivious like "Wow, nice job, thx!" and doesn't fully grasp that Lan Wangji is saying "I will make you a thousand bamboo flutes because I love you and will give you whatever you desire, that little surprise and pleasure on your face is worth all the time I waited -"
You know?
Still working way too hard on an MDZS fic BTW, like it's way over 1000 pages in Google Docs and half of it is me just transcribing the novel and the other is me repeating my feelings on everything with an OC or three. What am I doing with my life?
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localboobsenjoyer ¡ 5 months ago
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It was a pretty bad time in your life. That's why you were in a church. You were raised in a Christian family, so God has always been a part of your life, but your faith is quite shaky right now. A friend told you that here reside something that would reignite your faith again. You asked the first nun you saw for direction, repeating what your friend said. You could see a smile forming on her face. "You've come to the right place; follow me." You followed her to a room where it was only the two of you. You haven't really paid attention till now, but she was really attractive. She was very tall, probably a few inches taller than you. Her body was thin and slender, but she had some nice, big, and thick thighs and ass. Her face was also really attractive, with her big, gentle eyes giving her a motherly presence. While you were thinking about this, she started unbuttoning her dress to reveal her boobs. Or lack of boobs, actually. It was the only disappointing part of her body. Before you could ask why she was doing this, something even crazyer happened. Her bosom began to grow. From nonexistent to small to average all the way to huge. You were speechless. Few pornstars could rival her size, and you had never seen anything so big and round yet so perky and gravity-defiant. You instinctively hugged her. Her boobs were so soft and warm, and her smell was calming. "After seeing this miracle, do you believe in God?" "I do." The second you finished your words, you could feel her chest pushing against you, filling every empty space it could find. "There we go," she said, relieved. "My boobs are a gift and tool of the Lord, and the more I use them to inspire lost believers, the bigger they grow.
I don't know how much I stayed locked in that voluptious embrace. But it was enough to make an accord. I would bring as many lost souls to her as I can. And she and her ever-growing breast would be mine.
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skymar13 ¡ 5 months ago
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Opposites attract
Bakusquad x fem!reader who’s the exact opposite as them.
:fluff
Bakugo
Class sweetheart x class hot head
The whole class adored you, that was a fact. Not on some harem shit but they all knew you were the sweetest person on earth, a quiet girl who always kept a level head never tipping over the pot. While on the other hand your boyfriend was a boiling tea kettle that could never keep his mouth shut always yelling profanities to the others. But they both knew you brought out the best in each other, bakugo riled you up in battles pushing you to do your best and making you aware that it’s okay to be upset and selfish every once in a while. While you kept him in check calming him down at times and the only person who was able to get him to quiet down when he was going over board, as well as being a safe haven for him to spill out his feelings without shame. You were the one person he could never treat unfairly, he was nice to you always helping out with your gear or training always talking to you with respect and a sickeningly sweet tone. You had him whipped and he and everybody else knew that.
Kirishima
Kind hearted x tough exterior
You were practically a stranger in the class room. Everyone tried to get close to you but you never mixed well. The only one that forced his way into your life was your boyfriend. At first you pushed him away over and over, denying his requests and questions. But he never gave up on you. You didn’t want to go out? That’s okay he can go to your dorm. You hate him? That’s okay you adores you. You don’t want to let him see what’s bothering? It’s okay he will sit and wait till you eventually spill everything to him. And at some point it wore you down and you let him see what’s bothering was behind those walls you had set up and he loved every bit of it. He was encouraging and loud about your accomplishments always there for you when you fell. And like wise you showed him the darker parts of the world, you showed him who was and wasn’t trust worthy amongst his friends as well you cheered him on silently like his own personal quiet cheerleader. You had a weird dynamic but everyone could tell how happy you made each other….even if you wouldn’t crack even a smirk.
Kaminari
Class clown x shy nerd
Kaminari was definitely not the brightest of the bunch, not the sharpest tool in the shed, not the best grape on the vin- you get it. But when you offered to tutor him he swore his heart beat out of his chest. Unlike iida or momo you you were patient with him went at his speed and he actually began to learn a lot from you. He began seeing you every other day loving the extra attention he got from you and eventually he asked you out and the rest is history. When the class noticed that kaminari grades began to rise they wondered who had been the saint to resurrect his grades from their graves and they got their answer. You walked into class hand in hand while Kami carried you bags on his left shoulder. Their jaws dropped to the floor. You not only helped with his grades you helped him in other ways too. You were able to find a healthy way for him to short circuit and shorten the span of it you also got him into healthy habits (eating sleeping studying) and he couldn’t be happier. He brought you out of your shell introducing you to many of his friends inside/ outside of UA.
Sero
Stoner x red ribbon reader
He was the school dealer so everyone expected him to get with another pot head someone like Jirou or Mina but what they hadn’t expected was the love of his life to be someone who openly participated in red ribbon week. You were an avid hater for drugs and you made this aware to sero and the rest of your classmates. But you never asked him to stop for you just because you hated it doesn’t mean you were going to force that on the one person who truely makes you happy. He had tried to get you to do it on multiple occasions to which you declined and he never pushed it further. The longer your relationship the less he smoked much to your delight and eventually he quit on his own because he never wanted to smoke near you and you had always been near him. You were his high so why did he need drugs? He noticed how healthy you were for him, not even just because of the drugs but because you were an outlet for his to rid of stress and feel at peace while he mellowed you out. You were a stressed individual but perfected healthier alternatives but sero allowed you to be stressed without any reprimand and you were thankful it was an even balance between stress and calm.
Mina
Popular girl x shy girl
You were a quiet kid all your life. You sat in the back of every class had two close friends and always had your head phones in. When you got to UA it was the exact same as it had always been until Mina showed her bright smile and horns into your life. Yadayada you two were dating and everyone and I mean everyone took notice. The influx of attention was something you had to adjust to but after a while you were used to being swarmed by Mina’s friends while you sat next to her quietly scrolling on your phone or doing you homework with you headphones in. She’s always offer to send people away but you hadn’t minded it it felt nice to have people engaging in conversation even if you got overstimulated at times it was okay. Mina had never heard of the word chill before. She was a stressed out and far stretched teen who had major fomo when you two got together she immediately found her chill she now didn’t feel the need to be anywhere that you weren’t so most nights were quiet ones in your dorm watching movies or doing each others nails.
Jirou
Sarcastic queen x kind hearted reader
Sarcasm was a language Jirou spoke fluently. However for you? You could just never get it. Unfortunately for you it was your biggest downfall because you could never sense someone’s sharp tongue. Jirou at first was the one who dropped it in every sentence until she noticed you didn’t get it then suddenly she just didn’t have the heart to do it. She stuck by your side always pointing out who spoke sarcasmish and whose responses weren’t genuine at all. You thanked her every time and got slightly saddened because you could never get it. But she comforted you and even tried to get you in on the loop of the forbidden language. She took your kindness and started to speak to people without as much sarcasm which made her more ‘like able’ in the eyes of others.
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yan-lorkai ¡ 7 months ago
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Hi Lorkai! I know you have so many requests and you're busy, so it's okay if you'll ignore this one. But it would really mean the world to me if you made this one for me, since i'm going through really hard time in my life. Thank you from the bottom of my heart 🙏🏻🥺❤️
Can you please write about Alucard being very protective and caring for his reader!Darling, who's been suffering from mental abuse from her alchoholic father for so many years? Sometimes this trauma comes back, leaving the reader a sobbing, trembling mess, unable to catch a breath.
I have always seen Alucard as my source of comfort and understanding, and as we have seen in Hellsing Ultimate, even he sheds tears when his traumatic past haunts him in his nightmares. That's why I like to imagine he would treat his beloved reader with great care and gentleness, trying to do everything in his power to keep his Darling safe and reassured that he'll always be there for her. He doesn't want the reader to suffer alone the way he did.
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡A/N: Hi, darling. I'm truly sorry to hear that you're going through such a hard time right now and I want you to know that I'm here for you if you want to talk and vent. I'll hope that this can help you, even if only a little. I'm also sending you lots of strength and positivity! ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾
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You clutched your chest, feeling your lungs rise and fall at a frantic pace, a rhythm you couldn't control no matter how hard you tried. Every breath you took felt like fire, scorching your lungs, your throat and your eyes. You knew you needed to breathe, to calm down, but you couldn't remember how. Was this a panic attack? Or was it a heart attack?
Were you dying? Were the screams still echoing through the hallway? Or this was only a nightmare?
You wanted to scream, to let the tears fall, but everything felt frozen. Reality seemed to blur and warp, too real and yet not real enough. The burning sensation intensified, consuming you, threatening to overwhelm you entirely. It felt like the world was closing in, trying to crush you, leaving you powerless and desperate.
If you could find the words, that's how you'd describe the sensation - a brutal, unyielding force.
A noise beside you snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, and you suddenly sensed his presence. Your beloved's presence, dark and oppressive yet strangely comforting, surrounded by shadows and having a startled expression on his face. You turned towards him, desperate, searching for the air that escaped you, searching for the comfort only he could give you.
The comfort he always gave you. Always present to soothe your fears and worries, always there to wipe your tear and hold you for as long as you need. Nothing, not even Integra could tear you two apart if you were having a bad time.
Alucard spent years dealing with his problems, completely alone. He forgot how the feeling is but he still remember the anguish, how draining it was, how difficult. There was no way he would let you deal with this alone.
"Darling, you're exhaling too much. Focus on my voice." Tears streamed down your cheeks, and he wiped them away with his gloveless fingers. His figure wavered before you, but his presence was unmistakable, his familiar cologne grounding you. "Breathe in, through your nose, little one."
Your eyes widened as the world seemed to crash down on your exhausted mind. You felt trapped in darkness, fumbling blindly for the light, searching for cracks on the walls and beneath doors. Searching for a way to stop the voices and the screams, wincing when Alucard's hands rested gently on your shoulders.
Stumbling through the tunnel's darkness, you saw no light, no end, no switch to bring relief. No tool to fix what was broken. Cold sweat clinged to your skin as you struggled to call for him.
His touch cool and steady, he knelt before you while he watched you. Watched pain and shame painting your face, how you bit your lips till they were bruised and bloody, eyelashes wet from your tears. "Listen to me," Alucard repeated softly, his voice a lifeline in the chaos. "Breathe in, through your nose, slowly."
You tried to follow his instructions, drawing in a shaky breath through your nose. The air felt thick, like it was fighting you, but you persisted, clinging to his voice, clinging to him as if without him beside you, you'd die. Alucard's presence was a safe haven, a stark contrast to the darkness that had you snared.
"Good," He murmured, his voice soothing. His hands were twiching, wanting to hold you but hesitant to do so. You needed space to breath and smothering you on his chest wouldn't do you any good. "Now hold it for a moment."
You held your breath, feeling your heart race as you struggled to maintain control. Alucard's fingers traced small, comforting circles on your back, trying to keep you on the present moment and not letting you sink back into your nightmare where you saw your drunk father pacing around the kitchen, slamming everything on the counter and screaming.
This was over, this was the past and here is the now, the place where you didn't have to fear.
"Now, let it out slowly, through your mouth." He whispered.
You exhaled, your breath trembling, but the burning began to ease just a little. Alucard's eyes, crimson and intense, never left yours. "Again," He urged gently, holding your hands tenderly.
You repeated the process, inhaling deeply, holding it then exhaling slowly. It was difficult and hard, relapsing every few seconds whenever your conscious remind you what your father used to scream. Yet each breath brought a tiny bit of relief, the panic slowly losing its grip though it's tendrils were still curled around your throat, holding it. Alucard's presence anchored you, his shadows swimming around you and all over you, like a giant blanket, enveloping you.
"That's it," He whispered, his voice like a soothing balm. "Keep going. You're doing well."
With each breath, the burning in your chest and throat began to subside. The world started to come back into focus, the overwhelming blur receding.
"You're safe, darling." It was true. With him, you were always safe. Always loved and protected. And you never knew fear from the day you started calling him yours. Your lover, your adorable vampire. "I'm here with you."
You nodded weakly, the tears still streaming down your face, but now because of the relief you felt. Alucard's words, his presence and his unwavering support slowly pulled you back from the edge. Like he did once, like he promised to do again and again, no matter how many time he need to.
After a few more breaths, the darkness wasn't completely gone but it was tolerable. You looked up at Alucard, exhaustion evident in your eyes as you let your head fall into his neck.
"Thank you," You whispered, your voice hoarse. Tired.
Alucard gave you a small, reassuring smile. "You're never alone, darling. Nothing can hurt, everything is fine now. You can rest now."
He gently pulled you into an embrace, his arms enveloping you in a protective hold that felt like a fortress protecting you against the chaos within and around you. His embrace was firm, tender, and the warmth of his body seeped into yours.
You let yourself sink deeper into his arms, feeling the remnants of fear and panic gradually receding. The sensations that had overwhelmed you - burning lungs, blurring vision, the oppressive weight of dread - began to dissolve in the cocoon of his hug. The profound sense of safety and comfort he provided overshadowed everything else.
The world that had seemed so overwhelming and distorted slowly began to right itself. Colors sharpened, sounds became clearer, and the crushing weight on your chest lifted, replaced by the gentle pressure of your heart beating and Alucard humming slowly.
And for now, that was enough.
It was enough to be in his arms. It was enough when he pulled you to lie down again and arranged the covers around you. And it was enough when he let a little kiss on your temple, so reverent, so warm. For now, your heart was buzzing with warm feelings, your worries forgotten while you stared at his very beautiful red eyes.
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