#*is currently making me sob uncontrollably on the train | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

griffin-girl-r · 8 months

Text

Now it's her, but then was you (Part 2)

Created: 06.03.2023

Finished: 07.03.2023

Edited: 25.09.2023

Age: 15

Word count: 2,986

Warnings: Death mention, Suicide attempts mention, Blood, Miscarriage mention, Guns

Request: Yes (Wattpad user)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Nikolai (Comic book character)

Part 1 , Part 3

—

Natasha was shocked, to say the least.

"It can't be..." The woman mumbled

"Oh, yes it is!" You shouted in her face "I am that daughter you abandoned 15 years ago when the Red Room created me and I developed inside an artificial womb inside their labs. You ran away and left me behind."

Natasha was too stunned to speak.

"That's not true..." She managed to mumble, her eyes looking lost around the room, unfocused

"You are lying!" You shouted again as you felt tears sting your eyes "You left me as soon as they told you that they had managed to create a baby out of your DNA! I was barely at week 21 of development when you had run away without caring that you were leaving your own baby behind to be raised, tortured, and trained by those demons!"

"I-I never knew they kept you alive in their labs." Natasha breathed out shocked as she put the pieces of her past together "If I knew, I would have never left..."

Natasha understands now why you claim to be her daughter.

Only if she had known...

"So you did abandoned me." You chuckled, shaking your head "How could you?"

"Y/N, baby, listen to me." Natasha pleaded as she stepped closer to you "Please! Hear me first. Hear what I have to say before you jump to conclusions. What you know it's not true."

"Never!" You shouted "You are so much worse than the people who raised me."

And with that, you stormed out of the room without giving Natasha the chance to tell you the truth.

—

Natasha's legs couldn't support her anymore as she fell onto her bed.

Loud sobs started to come out of her mouth and her body shook uncontrollably.

But not from guilt.

It was from happiness.

This couldn't be true. What she thinks can't be true.

She quickly rushed to her nightstand and pulled out of a drawer a small box from where she pulled out two ultrasound scan pictures and looked at them.

"I need to make sure she is telling the truth first." Natasha whispered to herself as she tightly held the two scans in her hand

She quickly started to run towards Bruce's lab, to get her answers.

She needed to find out if this was true or not, because if it is true, Natasha's life is going to be changed forever for the better.

—

"Positive." Bruce mumbled shocked "All of them came back positive."

"So she is actually who she claims to be." Natasha stated shocked "But how? Bruce, I thought..."

"It could be possible, Natasha." Bruce interrupted the woman "They had the right tools and medication to do all of that." He clarified "Your theory it's true. That is what happened all those years ago."

Natasha felt the world spin around her.

"I need to find her." She teared up "I need to tell her the truth. She can't keep believing that I have abandoned her."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" Bruce called the A.I. "Please tell us Y/N's location."

"Miss Y/N is currently playing cards on the living room floor with Miss Anastasia." F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered

"Thank you, F.R. I.D.A.Y.!" Bruce said and looked at Natasha "Go."

Natasha needed no more words as she took off running to the living room in hopes that she would get you to listen to her.

—

"Oh, come on!" You shouted as you threw your hands in the air "That's not fair! I bet you cheated!"

"Nope!" Anna giggled as she shook her head "I won! It's not my fault that you are so bad at playing cards."

You laughed as you started to shuffle the playing cards again, getting ready for the sixth round of getting beat at a simple card game.

What Anna doesn't know, it's that you haven't lost because you suck at playing cards. You lost because you wanted to see your little sister happy, so you let her win every game by either showing her your cards to her or pretending to not know what card you should give next.

Natasha has silently watched you both play, hidden in the shadow of the room's door.

Before the new round began, Natasha decided that this was the best moment to interrupt your game.

"Hey, girls!" Natasha cleared her throat as she stepped inside the room, giving you both a small, shy smile

"Hi, Mama!" Anna greeted her with a bright smile "Me and Y/N are playing a game. Do you want to play with us?"

"I'd love to play with you both, baby." Natasha sat down on the floor in between you and your sister "But I have something very important to talk with Y/N. Do you think you can give us a moment? Maybe go grab some orange juice for you and us. Ask Aunt Wanda to help you."

"Okay, Mama." Anna nodded before she ran out of the room and toward the kitchen

You sighed annoyed and turned your face away from Natasha.

The woman sadly looked at you, noticing your gesture that was clearly indicating that you didn't want to talk with her.

But Natasha was just as stubborn as you are.

She has to talk with you and she will talk with you.

"I was 15." Natasha quietly started to explain, gaining your attention as you turned your head to look at her curiously "His name was Nikolai. I met him while I was on a mission that went South and he helped me escape alive from that situation. He was a soldier in the Russian army." She sniffed away her tears "He was a tall man, with beautiful light brown hair and his eyes were the same shade as his hair. He used to love having a small beard and loved to sing romantic songs under the moonlight. He was kind, sweet, gentle, and protective and I fell in love with him at first sight. I kept on seeing him in secret, using to sneak outside at night or lying that a mission took longer than expected just to go out on small dates with him. On my 16th birthday, he asked me to marry him. He was 17."

"Well, that sounds illegal to me." You mockingly chuckled

"It was." Natasha answered "But I still accepted. We were young and the only thing that I knew before him has been just war, death, and violence. For the first time in my life, I saw what it was like to be loved, to be respected, cherished, and wanted. He made me feel like I wasn't used anymore for other's needs or purposes."

"And what does all of that have to do with me?" You snapped at Natasha "Why would I care about your old lover?"

"Because he was your father!" Natasha breathed out as she dropped this bomb on you "Shortly after that 16th birthday where he asked me to marry him, I became pregnant with a baby that, until now, I thought it never got the chance to see the light of the day."

And with that, Natasha pulled out of her pocket the two pictures of a baby scan.

One of them looked rather new and the woman helt that scan up towards you.

You quickly snatched it from her hand and looked at it.

"That's Anna." Natasha pointed to a tiny thing in the middle of the scan picture that was taking the form of a baby "I was 21 weeks pregnant with her when this scan was made."

"Of course, you would come here, give me all that fake speech about your old lover, and bring a scan picture only to brag about Anna again." You interrupted Natasha as the slightest feeling of jealousy was building up inside you

"You didn't let me finish." Natasha emotionlessly stated "I was 21 weeks pregnant with her when this scan picture was taken..." She took a shaky deep breath in "The same stage of pregnancy I was in when I lost you..."

Natasha lifted the second scan picture that was left in her hand and sadly stared at it.

The scan was looking rather worn off, the shades of black, grey, and white weren't as bright as they were on Anna's baby scan and it looked like someone had looked at it for way too much time, stains of long dried tears present on it.

"This is how small you were when I lost you." Natasha sniffed and turned the scan from her hand to you so you could have a better look at it.

"Oh, please..." You chuckled thinking she was lying "You either never knew of my existence, or you abandoned me and the second option sounds more tempting to believe."

"My Nikolai died two days after I told him I was pregnant with his baby." Natasha continued as she chose to ignore your comment "He was sent on a night patrol that he never returned alive from. They killed him because they had found out he left me pregnant. It was so hard for me after his death but I still had a part of him with me." She brought her free hand up and tightly wrapped it around her stomach "Our baby." She whispered "He was going to live through our baby."

You carefully listened to Natasha's story as you noticed the pain in her voice as well as the tears in her eyes.

"The night that forever changed my life started normally." Natasha kept talking "I was laying in bed after they fed us the usual, tasteless soup and bread. But what I didn't know, is that they poisoned me. I woke up in the middle of the night in a pool of my own blood. I just had a miscarriage." Silent tears made their way down Natasha's cheeks "I had lost my baby, my only reason to keep living and the only piece I had left from Niko."

Something inside you, made you feel sorry for Natasha. You were a trained spy just like her and you knew when someone was lying or telling the truth and Natasha was very much telling the truth.

"I had lost my soul when I lost my baby." Natasha cried "Later on, when Anna was born, after countless failed attempts of killing myself, half of my soul returned to me. But I knew that my other half would forever stay dead just like my first baby girl was." She looked at you as the corner of her lips lifted into a small smile "I now know that the Red Room lied to me. The other half of my soul wasn't dead, it was just lost."

You huffed annoyed as a mocking smile appeared on your face.

"Please..." You laughed "Don't expect me to believe all this bullshit." You looked at Natasha "Even if it was true, Anna is now the center of your universe."

"Yes." Natasha looked deep into your eyes "Now it's her, but then was you." She said, "Once upon a time, in a life that is hard for me to remember, you were the center of my universe, my pride and joy, my hope, my light, my savior, my reason to dream, live and thrive, my little baby girl."

You wanted to say something but stopped as you swallowed back your words.

Natasha stood up and handed you, your baby scan picture, the only one she ever had of you "There wasn't a moment of my life where I haven't thought about you. About the baby that could have been, but never was. One thing is for sure, I loved that unborn baby more than I loved my own life."

Natasha looked sadly at you one last time before starting to walk away toward the door.

Looking at the scan picture, the words Natasha just finished saying replied in your mind in a loop.

'The baby that could have been, but never was.' Echoed in your mind and you shook your head

"No..." You mumbled quietly under your breath as you shot up on your feet and looked around the room to spot Natasha "Natasha, wait!" You shouted after her as you noticed that she was almost out of the room

Natasha stopped in her tracks and she turned around to face you as you ran to her, stopping only a few inches away from her.

"No." You told her as you shook your head "I'm not the baby that could have been. I am the baby that is. Is alive, here and now." You looked down at the scan picture of unborn you, failing to notice the tears that flooded Natasha's eyes in anticipation "All my life I asked myself why would have my mother chosen to abandon me just because she didn't carry me in her womb. My anger only grew bigger as I saw how you were treating Anna as I continued to ask myself how could you live with yourself knowing that you abandoned one daughter but you are treating the other one with so much love."

"Baby..." Natasha whispered as one tear fell from her eye

"But now I know." You interrupted her as you continued your speech "Now I know that she never abandoned me. The reason why she could live with herself and treat her other child with so much love is because she was never guilty. I wasn't abandoned." You breathed out "I have been brutally ripped away from my mother."

"I swear that I would have stopped at nothing to get you out of there if I knew you were alive." Natasha sniffed "I don't care that you developed in a lab. I only care that you are my baby. A baby that I already love more than my own life."

You took a step closer to Natasha, feeling the sudden urge to get closer to her as your mother's breathing stopped.

Natasha looked at you with love as her eyes swam in tears.

"I forgive you, Natasha." You told her with a small nod "We can start working on building some kind of a mother-daughter bond between us. But don't expect too much from me. I forgive you but I can't forget. Not yet. It's too early."

Natasha quickly nodded "I understand. I am not going to pressure you to do anything you are not comfortable with. We will go at your pace, baby. I am just happy you gave me a chance to prove to you that I can be your mama as well, not just Anna's mama.

"Anna..." You chuckled at the thought of your little sister "She is going to be so excited when she finds out I am her sister for real."

"She always referred to you as her big sister." Natasha smiled "I guess she could feel the sisterly connection between you two."

"I already knew that Y/N was my big sissy for real, silly." Anna's small voice boomed as she ran inside the room with Wanda hot on her heels and stopped in front of you "I could feel it in here." She pointed to her heart "And Auntie Wanda said I was right."

You looked towards Wanda confused and Natasha did the same, raising her eyebrow as she demanded an answer from the witch.

"I may or may have not read your minds yesterday morning." Wanda awkwardly said "The only reason why I haven't told any of you about it, is because I knew you would soon find out on your own anyway."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Wanda?!" Natasha sighed disappointed "We don't read people's minds without their consent. Not in this compound. It's rude."

"I know. I'm so sorry." Wanda rubbed the back of her head "I just couldn't help it."

"Hug?" Anna lifted her arms towards you as she was getting bored of Natasha scolding Wanda

"You can have your hug." You laughed and picked Anna up

Natasha wanted to join in the hug but she was unsure of the reaction you could have at her joining it uninvited.

But the hug didn't last for long as alarms started ringing throughout the compound, making an ear-scratching sound.

"We are under attack!" Wanda shouted to make herself heard over the alarms

"Take Anna to the safe room." Natasha snatched Anna out of your arms and passed her to Wanda "Escort her and Y/N there. Take them and guard them."

"I don't want to hide!" You protested "I want to stay here and fight!" You looked at Wanda "Go and protect Anna while we'll protect her from here."

Wanda looked from you to Natasha then, nodding, she ran out of the room with a confused and scared Anna in her arms.

"Baby, please." Natasha shouted "You need to hide. I can't lose you again."

"I can take care of myself, Natasha!" You shouted back

But before any more words were said, masked intruders blew up the windows and jumped inside the room.

Natasha started fighting as she tried, as much as she could, to keep you safe and away from the fight at the same time.

But you were having none of Natasha's protectiveness as you kept engaging in the fight.

Almost all intruders had been taken down.

Just one more left to go.

You launched yourself toward the enemy as Natasha picked a gun up from the floor and aimed it at the intruder.

But before Natasha pulled the trigger, another gunshot was heard.

From there on, everything happened in slow motion.

Natasha pulled the trigger and started running toward you scared.

The enemy started collapsing to the ground dead, with a bullet in their head.

And you...

You started falling backward as your eyes started to close.

Natasha blinked.

You were finally surrounded by darkness before you got the chance to feel yourself hitting the ground.

#mama nat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha's child #natasha's kid #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x baby!reader

18 notes · View notes

shinichis-therapist · 2 years

Text

𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘗𝘵.1

Pairings: Past Genya Shinazagawa x Black!fem reader(Platonic), Sanemi Shinazagawa x Black!fem reader, Past Kyojuro Rengoku x Black!fem reader

cw/tw: Major kny manga spoilers! Mentions of death, survivors guilt, grief.

Summary: Y/n and Sanemi try to find happiness after they’ve lost everything.

Word Count: 1k

A/n: Sanemi will be less of an asshole in this fanfic because I’d like to think everything that happened changed him. I’m also trying to be as canon compliant as possible and the only thing I’ve changed is making Y/n a Hashira, her breathing style is Blood breathing but it doesnt matter that much since she won’t be using it here. I havent written anything in months so sorry if there’s a lot of mistakes. Please enjoy and give me feedback if you have any.

As you sit in front of Genya’s grave with tears rolling down your face, you remember all the times you’d shared. All the training, laughing, and how he’d sometimes come to your room late at night to cry his eyes out. It took a while for Genya to open up to you after Master Ubuyashiki assigned you to train him, but you were patient with him and slowly got him to open up. You loved him so much, he was basically your little brother.

“Genya, I’m sorry” You said before while sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry that I was too blinded by my own rage. I should’ve been there with all of you. If I had been there maybe you, Muichiro, and Goymei would still be here. You all deserved to live more then I do.” You continued.

While Genya, Muichiro, Goymei, and Sanemi were fighting Kokushibo, you were fighting with Tanjiro and Giyuu to take down Akaza. The only thing that was on your mind was taking down the man that killed your beloved husband, Kyojuro Rengoku. The man you loved more then life itself. After you found out he had died, you wanted to end your own life, but you remembered that you still had people to live for.

“Y/n.” You hear a familiar voice say from behind you.

You turn to see your fellow Hashira. The man who’s brother you’re currently grieving.

“Sanemi. I’m so sorry. I’ll leave immediately.” You say as you wipe your tears and stand up.

“Wait no. Why the hell would you leave? Just sit back down.” He says as he lightly grabs your wrist.

“I don’t want to intrude.” You said looking down so he wouldn’t see your puffy red eyes.

“You’re not. Just sit down. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” He said before he sat down and started silently praying.

“Ok.” You whispered as you slowly sat back down and started praying with him.

You sat there and thought about how you should feel. Did you even have a right to be mad at Sanemi for the way he treated Genya? You knew that Genya had forgiven him. You knew all the things that happened to them. But you also knew that Sanemi was the reason Genya had cried in your arms late at night when he needed the love of an older sibling. You knew Sanemi had his reasons for acting the way he did towards Genya but you didn’t know those reasons.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Sanemi said breaking You from your thoughts.

You just sat there silently not knowing what to say.

“Thank you for doing what I was too stupid to do. Thank you for giving him the love I told myself he’d be better without. It’s not your fault. You deserve to be alive, I’m the one that should’ve died.” Sanemi said while looking forward bowing at Genya’s grave with tears fallen from his face.

“Sanemi…” You started but didn’t know what to say.

“I’m so sorry, Genya.” Sanemi says as he started sobbing.

“Please don’t cry, Sanemi. It’s not your fault either.” You said while wiping your own tears.

“YES IT WAS. I was there and I still couldn’t protect him. The only reason he was there was to try and prove himself to me. All he wanted was for me to show my love and I couldn’t do that until his dying moments.” Sanemi said while sobbing even harder.

“Oh Sanemi.” You said as you hugged him.

“You know what the worst part is? After all the bullshit I put him through, the way I neglected him. He still said I was the nicest person in the world.” Sanemi said.

Where was all this coming from? You’d never seen him like this before. You knew that he probably came here with intentions of crying his eyes out but thought that the moment he’d saw you he’d push that urge aside. Him telling you to stay was already out of character. You hadn’t spoken to him much since everything happened but you had noticed him being slightly nicer to people you once thought he hated.

You pulled Sanemi’s head into your lap and lightly stroked his hair as he continued to cry.

“He forgave you, Sanemi. He forgave you so you wouldn’t have the guilt that you have now. He loved you more than anything and what he’d want most is for you to be happy. Please try to find some form of happiness. If you can’t do it for yourself then do it for him, do it for everyone that isn’t here anymore.” You said while continuing to stroke his head.

You both sat there in silence for a few minutes until you heard his cries start to die down. He slowly took his head off your lap then looked the other way. You two sat in even more silence until you spoke.

“I’ve learned that it’s much easier to live for the dead then it is to live for yourself. The only reason I’m still here is because I don’t want to disappoint the people I love. I really shouldn’t have lectured you on happiness when I haven’t even found my own. I apologize for that.” You said as you started to stand up.

Sanemi was still turned the other way thinking of the words to say to you. He knew you were right but couldn’t bring himself to believe what you were saying. How was he supposed to find happiness? What did that happiness look like? How does he know that if he finds happiness it won’t leave him again? Even in a world without demons, sicknesses and crazy humans still exist. He’d rather never love again then love again and lose them to some freak accident.

“It’s fine.” He said lowkey as he turned to look up to you.

“I’ll see you around, Sanemi.” You said with a warm smile on your face as you put a hand on his shoulder.

Sanemi watched you walk away contemplating your words.

#demon slayer #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi x kanae #rengoku x reader #uzui tengen #black!reader #anime x black!reader #black woman appreciation #tomioka giyuu #tanjiro kamado #nezuko #kny inosuke #zentisu #demon slayer genya #genya shinazugawa #genya #black reader

170 notes · View notes

finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Just wanted to say 2 things:

1)Love the fic where he proposed over a cup of tea…so sweet💗

2) we all know how H has asthma sometimes so…could u write something w/the reader helping him with an attack idk or during an interview/concert/family gathering do as u pls

A nice day

XOXO

firstly, thank you so much that’s so sweet of you <33 and secondly, um yes i would love to give this a go at writing for you! hope you enjoy;

Harry couldn’t breathe.

He was in a panic, completely terrified of the uncontrollable situation. He was having an asthma attack concocted with a panic attack and it was brutal.

“Shit,” Jeff whispered as he watched Harry breathe heavily and loudly on the floor. His friend was currently on his hands and knees trying to gasp for air, whilst dressed in his notorious Fine Line outfit.

It was the big night. The one night only at The Forum for the release of his new album Fine Line, hence the costume. He had been nervous all day, with shaking hands and a tendency to forget simple things. You had been with him all day; having a slow brunch together out in the Hollywood Hills and then just chilling around for the afternoon. You didn’t want to anything to strain his voice, so talking hadn’t been an option. That left you either to sleeping and cuddling, whilst watching a movie, or sex. Now you were all for sex, but Harry complained that he liked talking to you during it and so that got shut down pretty quickly. You didn’t forget what he whispered to your ear though just before you cuddled into watching Bambi;

“Keep your moans for later, you’ll be fucking needing them for what I have planned.”

But that was over two hours ago now. Harry had been whisked away to start getting ready, what with hair and makeup first. You’d left him to it, telling him you would just lounge around and wait for him. It was when he was getting into costume had you announced you were just going to go down the street to get some coffee from Dunkin’ - seeing as there were few of them back in England, where you most commonly lived with Harry. The problem was you hadn’t come back yet, and it was an hour later.

“Harry mate, you need to calm down.” Kid Harpoon told him carefully, kneeling down next to his good friend. Nothing was working though and Harry was too breathless to ask anyone for his inhaler.

It had started by thinking about how nervous he actually was for tonight. It was such a huge show and one of a kind too. He was playing his new album and it wasn’t even 24 hours old yet. There was so much pressure weighing him down that he couldn’t breathe - he was suffocating in the anxiety of his own mind and he couldn’t escape at all. Then because he was in so much of a panic his asthma hit him and added another reason to his breathlessness. It was finally made worst when he realised you weren’t by his side to help him. You weren’t there to quickly eliminate the asthma and focus on helping him overcome the panic attack, instead he had his mates surrounding him - crowding him - and they didn’t know the first thing to do.

“Sarah, where’s Y/N?” Mitch shouted, making Harry squint the thought away. He didn’t want to think about how something back might’ve happened or might be happening to you. Where were you? Sarah’s response did no better to help him.

“I don’t know.”

“Harry bud. Talk to us.” Jeff spoke, crouched down in front of him. Harry shook his head, tears running from his eyes as he began crying. The sobs were really harsh and embarrassing. The tears were heavy and mixed with snot running from his nose to pool on the floor below him. He was not doing well at all, coughing when the asthma choked him up. He couldn’t do this. He felt like he was in a small box and it was only getting smaller. He felt as if he were going to die. Genuinely.

“Does he look like he can talk, dickward.” Adam’s voice came from the other side of Harry, messing his head up even more. There was so many voices and he couldn’t focus on just one, but he didn’t want to. He wanted yours. He needed yours. You.

Whenever this has happened before he was always luckily in the comfort of his home, or the tour bus and always with you. So this was unfamiliar and terrifying. He was beginning to think you’d left him or you’d gotten seriously hurt, but he couldn’t do anything to help. He was stuck - paralysed to this position as his lungs collapsed in on themselves and his brain sped the same speed as a train. You were his comfort person and it was only ever you that he wanted in situations like these. Just you.

“Move out of my way. Move!” Harry thought he heard you and your voice, but he hated that his mind could be playing tricks on him in desperation for what, or whom, he truly wanted.

He felt someone crash on the floor in front of him and the almighty smell of lavender and soap hit him all at once. This time, he was glad to have someone sit so close to him, because it was you.

“Harry look at me, hey, hey. You’re okay. Look at me bubs.” You spoke calmly, trying not to sound panicked yourself, even if you were heavily worried. You watched as he looked up at you, eyes ridiculously red and puffy whilst his nose was dripping like a leaking tap. You wanted to rub his tears away and dab away the snot, but your main priority was on his breathing first. “Okay good, okay.”

Your hand went into your bag and picked out his inhaler. You shook it a few times, before putting it into Harry’s mouth. “On three, one, two, three…” Harry tried is best to breathe in and you pushed down on the canister. “Good, bubs, really good. Okay again, one, two, three…” You repeated and then a third time until you could tell that the wheezing of his asthma attack had disappeared.

“T-than…” Harry tried to mumble out, but couldnt because he was still in panic and his throat was so dry.

“Sshh you’re okay.” You turned to one of the crew members and asked for them to fetch you a bottle of water. You asked people to clear out of the room and leave you with Harry for a bit, knowing he wouldn’t settle in front of all these people. You sat on the floor, crossed legged, and brought Harry to lay his head in your lap with his body trailing behind. You offered him one of your hands to squeeze if he wanted to, which he appreciated, cupping both of his around yours. Your other hand laid to stroke through his gelled hair - that would no doubt have to be redone now.

Instead of going straight into talking to him, you sang his favourite lullaby to him in aid of calming him down. It always worked, or at least helped a little. You sang quietly, noticing the beat of his heart soften with every line you sung. You were by no means a professional singer like him, but he liked the way it was so imperfect and mellow. It calmed him to hear something so simple and so you. Whilst you sang the crew never came back with your requested water and you thanked them, before you were the only ones left in the room.

After you finished singing you noticed how calm Harry was, almost still - the complete opposite to how he’d been all of 10 minutes ago. It was amazing what the power of you could do to him.

“What colour are we feeling?” You and Harry had created your own little system by which you would let each other know how you’re feeling by a colour of the rainbow. You’d designated a meaning to all of them that only you two could understand and used them on the days when you weren’t feeling great, to help understand each other’s feelings better.

“The whole bloody rainbow.” Harry mumbled out and you passed the water around so he could take a few sips, to which he thanked you graciously for.

“Oi, you can’t have that as your answer.” It was a rule that you could only use one colour to some your most intense emotion in that moment, otherwise there was kind of no point to the system.

“But it’s true. I feel grey with confusion, blue with sadness, purple with frustration, yellow with fear and even light yellow with cowardice. Yet I feel pink with happiness and light red with love.”

“What about red red?” You teased, not being able to help yourself.

“What? Lust? Always, for you that is.” You leant down to kiss his head as he cracked a joke, showing you that your Harry was still there beneath all this worry.

“Tell me what the colours represent in real life.”

“Purple because I am frustrated that I had to have a panic attack right before the biggest show of my career. Yellow because I am frightened that nobody will like the album and it will be a complete fail of a night. Grey because I can’t choose one colour and focus on it. I.. I—”

You could tell he getting himself worked up again, so cut him short. “Bubs stop, you’re okay. Listen to me.” You tucked his hair behind his ear as if to open it up for him to hear better. “Don’t ever be frustrated with yourself for something like this. You are allowed to have moments of weakness; you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. Did this compromise your show? No. Did this show off how strong and brave you are? Yes. That’s what is important, therefore we can swap purple for dark yellow because you were brave. Which means yellow can also turn to dark yellow because you are so brave for doing something so huge and so wonderful. People already love the album H. Can’t get enough of it. Everyone will sing along to every word, I can promise you that. Or at least I will. You are amazing, so never undersell yourself. That’s important to me and for you. Bubs, you are so amazing for what you’re doing here tonight and I couldn’t be prouder of you. Yes, a panic attack isn’t nice and it isn’t convenient, but it just helps show how much you care about tonight and it going a success. That must count for something.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit and that was okay. He was most likely getting his thoughts together and mentally preparing himself for the greatest night of his life. You bent your body over so you could hug him, since his back was to your front, and just give him a squeeze to reiterate how proud you are of him.

“Y/N.” Harry spoke quietly, as your body encased his. You embraced his warmth and inhaled the beautiful scent that he was wearing. He both smelt and looked phenomenal.

“Yes bubs.”

“You know I love you right?” Of course you did, but it still made your heart flutter as crazy as the first time he said it to when he tells you now.

“I do.”

“And you know you’re it for me right?”

“Well.. I—” You didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself.

“Because you are.” Harry turned himself around, making you sit up so he could move. He was lying with his head facing upwards now, face looking less red and puffy, and staring right into the souls of your eyes. He looked magical. Beautiful. He thought the same of you. “And,” he moved his fingers to take off his S ring from Gucci, that probably cost more than your annual salary, and place it onto your ring finger of your right hand, “I give you this as a promise to share my last name with you someday.”

Seeing the initial of his last name sat on the finger opposite to the one he claimed he would one day put two more rings on, brought you to tears. “Harry…” You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless. You had never expected for him to do something as monumental as this and had never experienced it before to know how to react.

Of course you’d always dreamt of marrying him and being his for eternity, but never thought of it possibly becoming your reality. Now, Harry was completely devoting himself to you and only you and it suddenly all felt like the dream was settling in place.

“I swear to you Y/N, i’ll love you until the next lifetime and i’ll find you again. I love you so much, I can’t even tell you how much because it is so infinite. You’re so kind and patient with me and you see me for me, not for the Harry Styles, just Harry. I’ll never let a day pass without you on my mind and I think it’s because you were always meant to be mine. My heart is yours.” He smiled once he noticed you were crying, moving one of his hands up to wipe the tears away.

“How do I top that?” You whispered to him, but mostly to yourself. Both of you laughed.

“Just tell me you love me.”

“I do. I do love you Harry.” You nodded and then he sealed your confirmation with a kiss to his lips. You rested your hand upon his cheek, placing the coolness of the S ring upon his cheekbone, as he placed his hand under your chin to guide you into the kiss. He tasted divine and you smiled knowing that you got to have him like this, taste him like this, for the rest of your beating hearts’ days.

518 notes · View notes

havin-a-wee · 3 years

Note

could u ever do a smutty one where h and y/n had a fling in the best or are just each others occasional hook ups but when h has a date y/n gets like really upset and he finds out so he makes it up to her and confesses his feelings saying stuff like „y're my best girl, y'know that petal?“🥺👉🏻👈🏻 love ur writing beyond words, have an amazing day :))))

Date Night

warnings: unprotected sex

word count: 1.6k

to whoever sent in this ask im so so so sorry it literally took me like two months to answer it i feel so bad but i like how it turned out so i hope this makes up for it!

You shouldn’t be crying. You really shouldn’t. Yet tears are spilling down your face as you break down in choppy sobs, your chest heaving and your cheeks hot.

You have no right to be jealous, and you know that. You and Harry are only friends with benefits, and nothing else. He is allowed to be on a date right now, and it’s not his fault that you’ve managed to fall in love with him throughout the course of your relationship. You met through a mutual friend, began hanging out and then later started hooking up. And while he sees you as his best friend who he just happens to fuck sometimes, you see him as so much more. And you wish that maybe it could be different between you. That maybe he does reciprocate your feelings and if you just told him how you feel he’d tell you he feels the same way.

But as far as you know, there is no chance of that happening. Especially considering the fact that he’s currently at a restaurant with some hot blonde girl he met last week.

Your thoughts are put to a halt when your phone rings, and you pick it up to see none other than Harry himself calling. And as much as you want to decline the call, Harry would never decline yours no matter what, so with a hefty sigh you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hi”

“Hey petal, the date was a bust, all she wanted t’talk about was m’money.” Harry laughs weakly over the phone, and you smile at the news that it didn’t work out. You shouldn’t be happy about it, and it does make you feel guilty because Harry deserves happiness. You just wish he could find that happiness with you.

Lost in your own train of thought, you forget that you’re supposed to be suppressing your tears. Another salty droplet rolls down your cheek and your sniffle.

Suddenly, Harry begins talking again, and that’s when you realize your mistake. “Petal? Y’okay? Sounds like y’crying.” His voice immediately switches from joking to sympathetic and worried, and you can imagine how he looks right now, creased forehead and wide eyes.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You wipe the tear off your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, clearing your throat to try and hide the sound of your throat that's sore from crying.

“No y’not y/n, I know what y’crying sounds like. M’already going in the direction of y’house so m’coming over and staying till’ y’tell me what's wrong.”

The tone of his voice tells you there’s no changing his mind, so you sigh and murmur an “okay” before hanging up the phone.

It took about five minutes for Harry to knock on the door. During that time, you went into your bathroom and attempted to hide the red, puffy skin that had overtaken your cheeks. It didn’t really work, and you were still trying to hide it when you heard him knock. So with a disappointed sigh, you slump over to the door and open it.

Harry steps in quickly, placing his coat on a hanger and then turning back to you.

“What’s wrong pet, hmm?” He places his ringed hand on your cheek, thumb running over the skin that's been reddened from your tears.

And despite the years you’ve spent hiding your feelings, despite the hours you’ve had to listen to Harry retell stories about his hookups, despite the yearning you’ve felt for your best friend since you met him, this was your breaking point. Tear after tear after tear. They flow uncontrollably down your face and all you can manage to do is look up at Harry. He pulls you into him, placing one hand behind your head and one around your waist.

And you just cry into Harry’s shoulder.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but Harry eventually brings you couch, and as soon as he sits you both down you curl up into his warm chest.

“Y’gonna tell me what’s wrong? Y’don’t ‘ave to, just hate seeing yeh cry.”

Finally, you pick up your head from where it’s tucked into his torso.

It might be the daze you’re in from the emotions swirling through your head. It might be the glass of wine you downed earlier to help drown out the feeling of jealousy. It might be all the pent up frustration from years of pining for someone you could never have. Or it might have been none of those things. Whatever it was, there was something inside of you that snapped. Like a damn collapsing and letting the water topple over and flood everything. The barrier you spent so long building broke in two, allowing all of those emotions to spill out.

“I love you Harry.” His eyes snapped open, and his mouth moved to speak, but you cut him off. “And not just as a friend. I’ve always loved you, and I know that if you don’t feel the same way, things will be awkward, but I don’t care anymore. Seeing you excited to go out with another girl hurt, because all I’ve wanted for so long was for that girl to be me.”

He stares at you. There was a second where you debated getting up and running out of the house, afraid of what his response would be. But just before you could put that plan into action, his lips collided with yours.

Your mouth meld perfectly, soft lips biting and nipping at each other. His tongue slips past your parted lips and twirls around your own. You’re breathless by the time he disconnects, the feeling that you had been longing for sent your mind spinning.

“Y’don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he pants, green irises staring deeply into yours. Without another word, you lean in and kiss him again, this time with more vigor than before. Much to your dismay, he separates the two of you again, however he keeps his arms tangled around your body and holds you close.

“Y're my best girl, y'know that petal? None of those silly girls could ever replace you.”

As your lips touch for the third time, it’s clear that both of you have been waiting for this moment for a long time. You savor the feeling, taking short moments to pause and soak in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Slowly, his hand creeps down the small of your back, but you can tell he’s hesitant to move it down further. But you want this, so you remove the hand that’s stroking his hair and place it on his, moving his hand down to your ass manually. He pulls his lips away, looking into your eyes for a sign of confirmation. You realize what he’s looking for, so you nod vigorously in response.

Quickly, he lifts himself off the couch, placing you on your back and positioning himself on top of you.

“H- please, I want you to make love to me,” you whine. His expression fills with hunger and he reaches to unbutton his jeans, shimmying them off quickly and tossing them to the ground. You can see the bulge pressed up against his boxers, and you reach out to palm him through the thin material.

“Fuck petal, y’gonna be the death o’me, y’know that?”

Harry dives into kiss you, using one of his hands to pull down your soft pajama shorts along with your panties. “Harry-”

“I gotchu petal, I gotchu, don’t worry.”

You assist him in pulling off his boxers, his large erection springing out. He’s huge, but you can’t say you didn’t expect it. The precome on his tip is calling for you to lick it, but you just want him to be inside of you, so you make a mental note to do that sometime soon. He grips the base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance. “M’gonna go slow alright?”

You hum your approval, and he responds by pushing the head inside your tight, soaking hole. Even with just an inch inside, you know it’s going to be a stretch, so you take a deep breath and hold onto his shoulders.

Inch by inch, he pushes himself inside of you. Harry stills for a minute, sensing the discomfort in your demeanor. Luckily, it doesn’t take long for the pain to subside and the pleasure to kick in, and soon enough you are moaning out for him to move.

He takes your instructions swiftly, pulling almost all the way out of you until quickly thrusting himself fully back in. “Fuck!”

Your cries are muffled when he leans down to kiss you, his hips continuing to rock as he pushes his length into you.

The air is hot, filled with moans and the smell of sex. You haven’t ever felt this good in your life, especially when he thrusts in extra deep and hits that special spot inside of you. “Harry- god,”

“Sweet girl, am I makin’ yeh feel good?”

“Mhm..”

“Tell me petal, who makes y’feel like this?”

“Harry! Only Harry,”

“Good girl.”

He slams into you, speeding up his thrusts and colliding his hips with yours. Both of you are groaning messes, caught up in the moment and unable to form any coherent sentences. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, and you know you’re close too by the way your stomach and pussy are clenching. He can feel it too, hitting deeper inside of you to bring you to your climax.

“God Y/N, I love you so fuckin much.”

That was all it took for your orgasm to come crashing down, coursing through your body with strength and fervor. The feeling of you squeezing as you came sent Harry over the edge, his milky cum shooting into your pussy and covering the soft walls.

You don’t know if this means you’re dating or not, or where his head is at. All you know is that you love him, and he loves you. And that’s enough for you.

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #one direction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blog #harry styles story #harry styles one shot

361 notes · View notes

lady-ragnvindr · 3 years

Note

Lmao, here have this horny brainrot I did while waiting for the angst <3

Oh, by the way The Diluc x reader fic has like a small bit of Jean x reader.. Are you OK with that? 👀

Anyways back to the brainrot

-🍷 anon

Earn it

Cat! Sub! Diluc x Owner! Dom! Reader

⚠️: Pegging, Overstimulation, Degradation, Begging, Slapping, Pulling of Hair and Tail, nipple play, Mommy kink, Pet play, Reader being mean and rough etc. (???)

Reader is a female

Hue, hue enjoy a screaming diluc begging

Finally after God knows how long, (Y/N) finally had time to spend with her precious little kitty lulu (Diluc). The two of them decided to take a stroll around the city of freedom just to get some fresh air

The two of them didn't realize that they reached the marketplace of Mondstadt until something caught the redhead's eye causing him to stop in his tracks -his s/o doing the same thing aswell-

The object that Diluc was ogling at was a collar. A glittering crimson collar with a shiny golden bell attached to it. It also had a beautiful big black bow at the back side of it.

(Y/N) saw how Diluc was eyeing the said collar, a smirk forming across her face as an idea began to form inside the back of her head.

She turned to face Diluc -who is still staring at the collar- and began to speak

"So..you want that collar I assume?"

She asked "innocently" her smirk from before never leaving.

Diluc was hesitant on giving an answer at first. But he is a good kitten. He never lies to his owner and always as in ALWAYS tells the truth no matter what.

So... he simply nodded, a blush forming on the apples on his cheeks as (Y/N) began to chuckle at his cute action.

"How adorable 💗"

She complimented, patting Diluc's beautiful red locks as she began scruffing behind his cat ears, causing diluc to purr loudly. His knees suddenly growing weak from the sudden touch his lovely owner is giving him.

"Diluc."

She called, his cat ears perking up when she called his name.

"You know that I don't give anything for free right~?"

He nodded.

"You also know that good kitties only get a reward when they work hard on something right~?"

He nodded the second time.

"Well... "

She stopped for a moment, -Diluc still focusing on her intimidating gaze-

"If you want it so badly... "

She continued, pulling Diluc close to her as she whispered into his ear in a serious tone as chills ran down his spine.

"You gotta earn it dear 💗"

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

It was late at night and the bedroom was a huge mess. pillows everywhere, the now cumstained blankets is on the floor, all that's left in the bed were (Y/N) and Diluc, who was gripping the bedsheets naked, full of bite marks, and a moaning mess.

His cum from his previous orgasms were all over his marked body. On his stomach, his chest, his face, it was everywhere.

(Y/N) smirked at the person in front of her whom she had destroyed. The famous uncrowned king of Mondstadt, laying before her, hair a mess, eyes rolled back, tears of overstimulation streaming down his tear-stained cheeks.

The deal was that Diluc had to go through 10 orgasms in order to get the collar. Currently, he's doing a great job passing 9 orgasms flawlessly making his owner very impressed. Maybe all that brat-training, and orgasm denials (Y/N) did to him paid off after all

"Your doing an amazing job my little kitty 💗"

(Y/N) complimented, caressing the redhead's cock causing Diluc to whimper and squirm at her touch due to oversensitivity.

"You only need to do one more orgasm until the collar is yours my love~!"

She chirped

"But there is a catch 💗"

She picked Diluc up and made him sit on her lap, making him confused on what she's doing

Confusion turned to pain & pleasure, when (Y/N) slammed the strap-on back inside his hole making him scream loudly

"This time, you gotta ride me. Make yourself cum infront of me like the slutty cum dump you are~!"

She commanded, giggling at the end of her sentence

"Nnngh... I-I... Mommy I can't!!!"

Diluc confessed, grabbing (Y/N)'s hips to maintain his balance as tears started to fall down on his face again

*SMACK*

The sudden action and impact that occurred in his rear end made Diluc scream for the second time tonight, burying his face on (Y/N)'s breasts, the grip he had on her hips tightening at the process

"Oh, so your gonna be a whiny bitch and not follow mommy's orders huh~?"

(Y/N) then yanked the redhead's now ruined ponytail causing him to stood back up again to his original position

"Look at me when I'm talking to you Diluc."

She ordered

"Your beginning to disappoint me Diluc, maybe you don't deserve the collar after all with that bratty attitude of yours~"

Upon hearing those words, Diluc began to sob uncontrollably as he started to bounce on (Y/N)'s strap

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! M-mommy please! I want the collar! I want it so badly! P-please forgive me! I'll be a g-good kitty!

He begged, fastening his pace hoping to quickly build his 10th and final orgasm

(Y/N) on the other hand was snickering at the redhead, loving how she can easily break him to into a huge crying mess and his limit to beg for anything

The rest of the time were just Diluc continuing to ride (Y/N) while moaning and blabbing incoherent sentences with a couple of pleases, thank-yous and the word mommy

(Y/N) proceeded to pinch his nipples harshly in the middle of him riding her, earning a squeak from him

Soon the familiar knot in his stomach began to form, signalling that he's about to have another orgasm

"M-mommy I'm close! I'm close! I'm about to cum!"

He said out loud, his body beginning to shake from the upcoming orgasm he's about to have

(Y/N) wrapped her fingers around his cock and gave it a light squeeze

"Or... I could deny your orgasm and have do another one again since you still have some energy left in you dear~"

Diluc shook his head violently, throwing a small tantrum

"NO! NO! I DON'T WANT! MOMMY PLEASE! I WANT TO CUM! I WANT TO CUM! MOMMY I WANT THE COLLAR PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!"

He begged, crying hysterically making (Y/N) chuckle, pitying the poor kitty.

" I'm just kidding Diluc! Of course you can cum now, you earned it. Congratulations my love~"

She exclaimed, relieving diluc as he mumbled a "thank you" then continued to thrust deeper, completely destroying his prostate

Then out of nowhere, (Y/N) grabbed ahold of dilucs hips and fully smashed the strap-on in his hole, strong enough to trigger his orgasm as he screamed out loud, loud enough for the people in Mondstadt to hear him.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEUUGHHHHHHHHHHHH~!"

Diluc then fell backwards, now lying down on the bed. legs still spreading, cum leaking out of his drained cock, body still violently shaking from the orgasm.

(Y/N) stood up and went to the drawer rummaging through things and brought out the same collar that diluc was eyeing on awhile ago.

"I bought it already while you weren't looking."

She hopped back to the bed and proceeded to place the collar around Dilucs neck. Once she was done placing the collar on him she kissed his forehead and cuddled closer to him

"You did good tonight my little kitty, once again congratulations~"

She cooed, stroking his back. Diluc purred and snuggled close.

"T-thank you mommy.. I love you~"

"I love you too my little kitty, now rest well~"

She replied, as the two of them drift off to sleep in each other's arms

SO YEAH ANYWAYS TO HORNY JAIL I GO

I HOPE I WASN'T TOO HARSH ON DILUC IF I WERE I'M SORRYBSODORKGKTKGKG

-🍷

Ma'am Imma need your ID and items. Bcz I did not just read such good sub diluc--oh its been a while since I thrist for him.

Anyways,

Welcome to horny jail my love 🤪💅

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #dom!reader #diluc #diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #diluc x you #🍷-anon

438 notes · View notes

twoflipstwotwists · 3 years

Link

Becky Downie has missed out on an Olympics before. In a 13-year gymnastics career, which has seen her win 14 major medals, she felt the heartbreak of watching a home Games from the sidelines in 2012. But this time is different, she says.

On Monday, her shock omission from the Tokyo 2020 team was announced, and she now says she can “never forget” the turmoil she endured from British Gymnastics during the selection process. She also hints that her treatment was influenced by her decision to speak out at the culture of abuse within gymnastics, suggesting she was “made to feel not welcome” at the sport’s training hub at Lilleshall after going public.

In an exclusive interview with Telegraph Sport, Downie describes the last few weeks as "the hardest of her life". She had thought things could not get worse than 2020: Olympic postponement, the fallout after she joined whistleblowers to speak publicly about what she described as "normalised" abusive training environments, and her father's time in intensive care battling Covid-19.

But last month tragedy struck when her brother Josh, 24, died suddenly from an undiagnosed heart condition while playing cricket. It was news Downie says "you never imagine receiving". To make things worse, she received the devastating call on the eve of the final Olympic team trial, while apart from her family at a hotel in Cardiff.

"I got a knock on the door after midnight, and my first thought was it must be drug testers," Downie says of that night. "I was half asleep, completely dazed. The coaches came in and when they told me [that Josh had died], I thought, am I actually dreaming this? There are really no words to really describe it. There were a lot of tears. It was the longest journey of my life, getting back to be with my family in Nottingham."

Sat in her living room in Nottingham now, Downie still has a look of disbelief on her face as she describes the events of the last few weeks. Condolence cards are placed around the room to mark how raw and recent her family's grief remains. Mounting more pain on top of that seems unimaginable, but the blows have kept coming.

Just two months ago, she was on top of the world after executing what she believes is a world leading uneven bars routine. At 29, she felt in the form of her life. When she posted a video of her routine online, major champions were applauding her in the comments, even the legendary Nadia Comaneci. Downie believes the routine put her in contention for a gold medal.

But last Friday her appeal was denied, and British Gymnastics confirmed she would not go to Tokyo. It is less than two years since she won a stunning silver medal at the World Championships - a competition that counted as a trial for the Olympic squad - but somehow she has failed to make even the three reserve spots for Tokyo. Though Downie has wished all of the gymnasts selected the best, she remains baffled by her exclusion - especially because she “met all the criteria” and her trials scores put her top of the rankings in bars.

British Gymnastics have defended the decision, saying they are focusing on medals in the team event, and that Downie's specialism in bars posed a "risk" to this strategy. But it has caused uproar, with a petition calling for an independent review of the selection process receiving 25,000 signatures in the last five days. Beyond selection though, Downie says what hurts the most is the way she believes the decision was made and how she was treated in the process.

After missing the final trial due to bereavement, Downie and sister Ellie were given another opportunity by British Gymnastics to compete for their spot on the team 10 days later. Though Ellie elected not to do so, Downie made the brave decision to take up the offer.

"I know that Josh would want me to, he wouldn't want me not to try," she says. What followed though, was a process where she alleges British Gymnastics lacked "any element of compassion".

They did not allow her to compete at her home gym in Nottingham or at the national centre at Lilleshall. British Gymnastics then rejected a venue she and her coach proposed and instead suggested she return to Cardiff - a six-hour round trip from her home and the very place she had learned of her brother's passing.

"That's the part that hurt me most. I refused. Why would I want to go back there? I don’t think that should have been asked of me at all."

Another venue was confirmed instead, and though British Gymnastics emphasised their intention to replicate as closely as possible the environment that the other gymnasts had competed in in Cardiff - for the benefit of fairness - Downie says it was her that was put at the disadvantage.

New obstacles included British Gymnastics failing to book her training slot at the chosen venue - a basic thing that all of the athletes had for their trial - which saw her make a 90-minute trip and have to plead with the Leisure Centre to remain open. She also had an existing dispute with the governing body because they refused to allow her to use equipment at the trial which more closely resembled that being used in Tokyo. As a bars specialist, this meant she couldn't perform her highest difficulty routine. "It's like telling Lewis Hamilton to get in a Ferrari and drive - in a sport of small margins, and high performance, equipment is always a factor."

Actually competing in the trial, while still reeling from the death of her brother, was "the hardest thing I ever had to do", and she describes national coaches walking past her wordlessly while she “sobbed uncontrollably”. But afterwards, she and Ellie walked out of the gym with "not a doubt in our mind" that she had done enough.

"If I can perform in that environment, which was harder than any Olympic final would ever be, I’m really proud," she says.

But, according to British Gymnastics, it was not enough. Knowing now that the team event was the priority in selection, she believes her exclusion from the team was already a foregone conclusion before her trial.

British Gymnastics "categorically" denies the suggestion that the trial was a "tick box" exercise, and say they trust that selection was decided purely on merit, but Downie is unconvinced. To add insult to injury, she was given a 48-hour deadline to appeal the decision, falling on the day of her brother's funeral.

"It makes me feel sick that they treated me like that," she says. "It hurts me to know the things I had to miss. Picking the flowers for the funeral whilst I was away trialling, a tribute for my brother at his cricket club, which happened when I wasn’t even given a proper training slot. I missed that, for what? There’s so much that was hurtful.

"I'll never forget that. And no amount of apologies will ever make that okay."

Downie and her sister were two of the only current British gymnasts to speak out about abuse in the sport last year, which triggered an independent review commissioned by UK Sport and Sport England. When she was left out of the squad on Monday, lobbying group Gymnasts for Change called it a "sinister warning" being sent by British Gymnastics to whistleblowers.

Does Downie think this outcome is a result of her speaking out? "It's very hard to say... But I definitely know that there has been a big behavioural shift towards me and Ellie, since that point, from certain individuals, decision makers. We’ve gone down to Lilleshall and been made to feel not welcome.

"I have been told by a person of significant importance - in the national team environment - that a lot of coaches do not agree with what we've done. Maybe I did open my mouth a year too soon, I'm not sure. If this is the sacrifice [an Olympics] then this is the sacrifice, change needs to happen. I’m proud of what I did and I don’t regret it."

Tokyo was meant to be her final bow, but now Downie has spent her first week in months out of the gym.

Downie is adamant though that she is not done with gymnastics. Despite the heartache and hurt caused, her love for the sport remains strong.

"It’s hard for me to think, can I be selected for a team ever again? I do know I want to carry on, because I want to show that routine. I haven’t done two years of work to sit on the sofa. There’s a World Championships this year. They certainly don’t have control over my final chapter. I know I want to compete again on my terms."

But the dream of Olympic gold is gone: "I genuinely believe that we could have done it. I think I had a shot at being the first female Olympic champion Britain has had in gymnastics."

#becky downie #ellie downie #bg deserves to burn

82 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

All planned out

After a long day, Aether sat by the sea in his realm with a bag full of materials and primogems ascending towards the night sky, returning to him in the form of various gifts.

Aether:Come on…I know you’re out there. Blue, more blue, purple, purple, blu-

Gold meteor!

Aether:Ah! There you are.

The golden meteor went right into the ocean. The tide began to rise. Currents swirled. All until Kokomi herself shot out of the water gracefully and landed by his side. Aether stood up and smiled.

Kokomi:H…Hello. I must say it’s pretty clever letting your wishes fall in a safe place like this. So, looks like I’m joining your crusade?

Aether:Looks like it! Welcome to the team. I guess you’re getting that adventure you wanted.

Kokomi:I’ll strive to do my part well. But first I will need numerous resources. Let’s see…I think it might be optimal to start with the Hydro Hypostasis. I won’t be able to provide much support there unfortunately, but if I at least reached 70 then we could-

A wave or strength washed over her. Kokomi looked at a bag in Aether’s hand slowly shrink as pearls, exp, and a variety of materials began fading into her. In a blink of an eye, she was level 80 out of 90.

Kokomi:Oh. You had these already?

Aether:I did have around three weeks. Plenty of prep time.

Kokomi:Then I suppose the next course of action is-

Aether put a artifact flower right in her hair, cutting off her train of thought as he gave her the rest of the artifacts. Then he placed Skyward Atlas in her hands before digging around in his bag.

Kokomi:…These are leveled.

Aether:Yeah I was in that domain for awhile. Sorry about the catalyst. I’m low on funds but will get you something more your taste soon, but look at it this way, this should help constantly keep enemies at-Kokomi!? What’s wrong!?

She didn’t answer right away. The only thing Kokomi could do is stare down at the catalyst, staining it with tears while her body trembled before falling to her knees.

Kokomi:Nothing is wrong. You planned for me. Everything is all here; and I…I wasn’t a mistake. *sniffling* You were actually wishing for me and I’m just so, so….

Her voice began to crack as she wept uncontrollably. Try as she might to compose herself, tears continued to flow. Aether knelt down in front of her a pulled her into his arms where she then began crying harder, hugging him tightly.

Kokomi:Thank you. Thank you~

Aether:Just do your best. That’s all there is to it. Welcome home commander.

Kokomi:*sobbing* Reporting for duty. I’ll make you proud…

#genshin impact #kokomi sangonomiya #gi aether

34 notes · View notes

equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Note

Hi! As much as I love the newest chapter of Drowning, I meant to say would you consider rewriting the second chapter, where hero does CPR on Supervillain, then finds him in the alley, from Supervillain's perspective? I just love the angst and vulnerability in that chapter!

Thank you!!!

Ah okay. I apologize for misreading that.

I usually don't rewrite chapters. I have someone who is constantly asking me to redo a piece because they didn't like the personality I gave the characters. Like I've been asked over three times. I did give them character development, but the person still can't seem to understand that.

But, I think that this will be a great addition to the storyline. However, I have to say if you haven't noticed, I've been having a tough time writing things of good quality recently. But, if I take a break, I will loose my motivation 100%. So I apologize if this doesn't have the same goodness as the original Part 2 (here).

So without further procrastination, here it is!

Drowning Part 2B

@shydragonrider @sunflower1000 @asrasmysoulmate

Drowning Masterlist

Warnings: fever, delirium, hallucinations, altered state of consciousness, losing consciousness, inability to breathe, monster (hallucination)

Breathe.

A simple task, nothing that hard at all.

In the beginnings of consciousness, Supervillain's lungs screamed at him to exhale, to push this foreign mass of warm air out of his body. But his brain, still too slow, forbad such actions.

Breathe.

The base instinct was getting overwhelming, especially as awareness once again returned with the newfound oxygen. Tentatively, and through a thick haze of fog, Supervillain opened his mouth and coughed.

He vaguely felt something liquidy draining down his chin as his lungs and diaphragm shoved the air out. He gasped for more, bodily functions now working and greedy, coughing and grunting ferociously.

Air, he needed air.

Supervillain cracked his eyes open, drawing in all the precious, cool oxygen he could muster. Exhale. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

He was making himself dizzy with the sporadic, fast paced breathing. He looked over at the owner of the looming shadow and startled. It was Hero.

Gasping weakly he looked at her. Her hair was still wet, drenching her shirt. Supervillain gulped, circling his fingers into the concrete floor. His eyes flickered to another living- hopefully?- figure collapsed nearby, on the ground and unmoving. Blood gushed from his head in a flow from a very nasty cut and bruise.

With a feeling of nausea in his gut, Supervillain pushed his shaking form off the ground and bounded away.

He ran like a gazelle, never stopping or looking behind his shoulder, until he found an empty, dark alleyway. He limped over to a flattened cardboard box and fell onto it in a very non-elegant manner.

He gasped for breath, ignoring the painful tug in his chest. He still couldn't breathe. Or, he could to an extent, but deep breaths weren't a possibility. It didn't help that he had a nasty sniffle before- Supervillain shuddered- his near death experience.

Maybe it was still the fog in his brain from being without oxygen to long or pure adrenaline, but either way for some reason, the exhausted supervillain couldn't make sense of the situation. Hero saved him, why? Villain was hurt, much more hurt than he had left him, why?

Eventually, the monotonous train of these thoughts lulled Supervillain into an uneasy slumber. Every few minutes, or seconds, or hours, Supervillain would wake from his restless doze with either a snorting breath or a loud gasp. It burned his chest, making his tender ribs erupt in more flames.

Finally, after what seemed like days, morning came around. Supervillain curled himself behind a dumpster, coughing. If someone saw him, he wouldn't be able to fight back in this state.

The dreadful feeling of vulnerability set a stone down his throat. Supervillain drew in a sharp breath, immediately hacking up more water and mucus with deep coughs, and then tried to catch his breath. He couldn't, which sent another pang of panic through him. He coughed uncontrollably and watched in horror as they turned to sobs.

Supervillain crunched his legs together. He couldn't breathe, couldn't not cry, and now he was crying. To top that pie, a horrible headache had dawn on him. It made him uncomfortably lightheaded and his vision go double. A strange heat behind his ears also formed, making the exhaustion and fatigue in his shivering body more unbearable.

Supervillain groaned very loudly, and very involuntarily, leaning against the cool metal of the dumpster. It brought so much relief...

Wait, something was wrong.

Maybe in this early stage of delirium, Supervillain's senses were heightened. Something wasn't right, it was quiet.

There were no more footsteps.

Peering out from his hiding place curiously, Supervillain saw a woman standing in the entrance to the alleyway. He jerked backwards, breathing heavily, before an instinctual urge sent him plummeting towards her.

He grabbed her mouth and throat before yanking her backwards. She gasped, but Supervillain ignored it.

"Let me go!" She yelled, hands going towards her gun.

Supervillain tensed, looking at the weapon. She was a threat. She was a...

A mixture of black and white filled Supervillain's vision due to the adrenaline crash and sudden rush of motion. He toppled forwards, into the woman's arms, blindly aiming a sloppy punch.

It never connected. Supervillain blacked out.

He came to rather slowly. Voices and sensations drifted around this pleasant haze. Some were louder, some quieter. In the back of his mind, he wondered if there were more than one voice. They sounded so different.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if there were more than one voice. Different, they sounded different. Were there more than one? Or two? Or three? Or four?

Supervillain curled into himself, allowing the distant darkness to come closer. His thoughts were just repeating, mind not really set to comprehend at the moment.

Instead, in this semi-conscious state, Supervillain started to focus on the cool feeling on his forehead. It felt so good.

Some of the cool dripped into his fluttering eyelids. He cracked them open, grunting against the bright light over him, and stared outwards.

It was a tunnel, with a figure at the end.

Making sense of the figure wasn't currently up Supervillain's alley. It was large with multiple eyes, pink and green. Or was it brown and red? Supervillain blinked. No, now it was different. It was a blob.

He let out a distressed whine and tucked his chin to his chest. His heart beat frantically against his chest and through his veins. Every inch of his being could hear and feel it.

Just like he could feel everything.

It was so overwhelming. All the touches, all the sounds. All he wanted to do was shut down and sleep, but this sensory overload wouldn't permit that.

"Hey."

A voice. Supervillain strained to connect with it, to lean into the only human contact he currently had. But he started to cough.

Lung and stomach contents left his mouth like a mudslide. Red, clear, thick... all of it.

It made him scream. He screamed. He was so scared, so overwhelmed, so sick.

Then, the energy boost faltered, leaving him heaving and wheezing, consciousness flickering. He was tired, just wanted sleep.

Flesh touched his forehead, then the voice came again, but Supervillain couldn't decipher it. Something pricked at his lips. He pursed them, still crying silently, but the prick wouldn't let up. He parted them, allowing the pinching metal to nestle underneath his tongue.

It beeped, echoing in Supervillain's ears.

It wouldn't stop beeping, even as consciousness was stolen once again from him.

It was only when he opened his eyes to a familiar face over him that it stopped. The wrinkles by her eyes, freckles, gray eyes.

"Mother?" Supervillain croaked, smiling softly.

His mother, his mother was here to help.

#supervillain whumpee #hero caretaker #hero x supervillain #heros and villains #feverish supervillain #feverish whumpee #delirious whumpee #delirious supervillain #inability to breathe #i would love more asks like these #like as tiny experts of Supervillain's recovery #or for some suggestions for the mental recovery of the newly weaponized Supervillain

27 notes · View notes

wisteriashouse · 3 years

Text

goodnight.

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: angst

word count: 1876

remarks: why do i do this why do i make myself suffer

In hindsight, you should have known the second you saw the site of the train wreck with your own eyes.

“Kyoujurou!” You call, doing your best to keep your breathing and emotions in check as your eyes sweep the place. You’ve been running desperately, following the railway tracks along the route that you know the Infinity Train to have taken — hoping, begging, that you wouldn’t find any casualties along the way.

Your kasugai crow, which you use more to keep in contact with Kyoujurou than anything else, had informed you of Upper Moon Three’s appearance when you’d just finished clearing a forest of demons, much to your horror. You know the Flame Pillar is strong, incredibly so, but to face an upper ranked demon right after dealing with Lower Moon One is an impossible task.

If anyone can do the impossible, though, it’s Kyoujurou. You have to believe in him.

The closer you get to the wreckage, your seasoned senses can already pick out smaller details of the battle from the night before — the acrid smell of burning ash that still lingers in the air, the dented metal of the toppled train carriages. Although your lungs burn from exertion, you push yourself onwards, frantic to confirm with your own eyes that Kyoujurou is still alright.

Nothing is going to happen to him, you chant to yourself in your mind, over and over. Kyoujurou is going to be alright. He has to be.

You barely spare the casualties at the side of the tracks a glance as you leap onto the wreckage of the carriages, eyes desperately scanning around you for a glimpse of that familiar flame emblazoned haori. Most of them seem to be only suffering from flesh wounds, which means that Kyoujurou and the three that joined him have been successful at keeping civilian losses to a minimum. You allow yourself to cling to hope for a brief moment. They’re alright, so Kyoujurou must be as well–

You see him.

Or rather, you see the back of him as he kneels on the ground next to the wreckage, a boy in a green checkered haori sobbing in front of him. Your breath hitches, and then you’re running, shouting his name.

“Kyoujurou!”

The boy glances up in shock at your voice, his eyes and cheeks wet with tears, but you hardly pay him any heed as you come to a stop in front of your best friend, nearly falling over from how fast you’re going. “Kyoujurou, the crow told me that you encountered Upper Moon Three, I couldn’t reach fast enough to provide backup, are you...” Your words die into a strangled sound in your throat. “...alright...”

Kyoujurou looks up at you and your panic only grows when you see the red staining his smile, the familiar one that is only reserved for you and Senjurou. His remaining eye fixes on you, slightly wavering, so gentle you want to cry in anguish.

“I didn’t think you’d run all the way here just because I haven’t replied your last letter.” He says, but his words are nothing but white noise in your ears, your gaze transfixed on the blood that just keeps seeping from the hole in his torso. His voice is so strained, so weak. “I was going to tell you that sweet potatoes were better than yam, but–”

His words are cut off into a pained gasp as you tear the haori off your shoulders and press it to the wound on his stomach, praying that he hasn’t lost enough blood to put him in the grave. “What are the lot of you doing standing around and crying for?” You bellow at the two junior demon slayers, who flinch back at the volume of your voice. “Earring boy, help me staunch the bleeding from the back with your haori! Or have you learnt nothing but swinging swords from your trainer?”

Kyoujurou’s bloodstained hand rests on your trembling ones as you apply pressure to the wound, while the other brushes tears that you didn’t even know were falling from your eyes. “It’s alright–”

Something in you snaps.

“Shut up!” You scream at him, so fiercely that Kyoujurou actually recoils, his expression one of shock. He’s never seen you lose your composure like this, not after hearing about the deaths of your comrades, not even after the passing of your father whose haori you’re currently pressing to his wound. “Shut up, Kyoujurou, just... shut up! You’re bleeding out in front of me! It’s alright? It’s alright? Are you fucking with me?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“You’re asking me to watch you die!” You snarl, fingers tightening so hard in the fabric of your haori there’s the sound of ripping fabric. “It might be alright with you, but don’t you dare think that I’m going to be okay with you dying in front of me! Use total concentration breathing to slow your blood flow! Don’t make me watch you die!”

Kyoujurou blinks up at you slowly, watching as tears flow down your cheeks uncontrollably, the way your shoulders tremble with barely repressed emotion. He’s so exhausted, and his body is in so much pain that he just wants this to be over so that he can join his mother in rest, but you’re crying.

You’re crying, and it’s because of him.

And because it’s you, he parts his lips and forces himself to breathe.

Deep, measured breaths, just like he was teaching the Kamado boy a few moments ago. There are too many injuries to concentrate on, so he focuses on slowing his circulation so you won’t have to see his blood on your hands. Gritting his teeth, he takes one more deep breath to steel himself and forces the blood vessel to stop the bleeding.

Pain rips through him, clawing at his abdomen and a choked, soundless scream escapes Kyoujurou before he can swallow it. White flashes in his vision and he so damn badly wants to give up, but then your fingers are suddenly there, stroking his cheeks and begging him to stay with you. He clings to your voice even as waves of pain rock through him, as if you’re his lifeline and he’s a man drowning. You need him. He can’t go just yet.

When the blinding agony finally subsides just slightly, he finds himself lying on his back, tear tracks running down the sides of his face and his throat raw from screaming. You brush his tears away with the sleeve of your uniform, pressing your lips to his hairline. “You’re doing so well, Kyoujurou.” You tell him. His entire body feels sluggish, completely drained. There’s a light smack on his cheek. “Come on, talk to me. I’ve already called for a surgeon in the area, so you have to wait until he’s here. Don’t go to sleep just yet. You still haven’t told me why sweet potatoes are better than yam.”

Your voice is trembling.

“Sweet potatoes...” He forces his remaining eye to focus on your face, trying to remember your every feature. “I like the ones you and Senjurou make for me the most. The ones we make together on the first day of autumn. They’re always so warm and good.” The blood tastes like iron in his mouth, and suddenly he’s standing next to a pile of burning leaves in the yard of the Rengoku family home, poking at them with a long stick.

There’s a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to see you standing there in a thick kimono decorated with russet and crimson maple leaves for autumn, Senjurou clinging to your sleeve. He tells you that you look beautiful and your cheeks turn a hint crimson, mumbling your thanks shyly. Senjurou chatters excitedly about the roasted sweet potatoes in the fire, while his own face warms at your response, heart throbbing in his chest.

We’ve been making roasted sweet potatoes since we were children, Kyoujurou. You still can’t tell when they’re cooked or not?

He never tells you that he doesn’t want to learn, so that he can keep inviting you to his home year after year to make them together.

The sweet potatoes the three of you shared always taste the best. No matter how simple they are, nothing can compare to them in the way they warm his heart.

“Mm, we used to make them so that you would give Kanroji a break from training.” You slap his cheek again, a little harder this time. Kyoujurou blinks blearily in realization that his eyes were slipping shut, instantly feeling guilty, but he’s just so tired. “Don’t sleep yet, Kyoujurou. Senjurou was telling me about how his broom broke yesterday, and he’s waiting for you to get back from this mission so that we can get a new one from the market together.”

“A new... broom? Ahh, I just fixed the old one before I left, it mustn’t have been enough.” Kyoujurou’s head spins, and his breathing comes out shallow. He tries to breathe right, he really does, but he’s losing strength with each passing second. “He was telling me about a new vendor in the market selling konpeito, so he wants to try making some. It’s simple, so Senjurou said I could try making some and giving it to you as a gift.”

“That sounds nice.” You hum, your voice trembling slightly, although Kyoujurou doesn’t know why. His entire body feels heavy, and his head rests in the softness of your lap. It’s warm and comforting and familiar. Kyoujurou used to do this after a long session of training, before the two of you had become Pillars with your own missions, your own paths taking you apart. Simpler, happier times, a long, long time ago. “When we go home, let’s make a fire and roast sweet potatoes together again, alright?”

“It’s not autumn yet, though... There won’t be enough fallen leaves.” Your hand finds Kyoujurou’s, and he squeezes it weakly. So warm. “I’m really tired... could I nap... for just a bit?”

Kyoujurou faintly hears a choked sob, feels your fingers stroking through his hair and your lips against his forehead. “Okay.” You finally whisper after a heartbeat, your voice cracking at the edges. “You’ve done wonderfully, Kyoujurou. I’m so, so proud of you.”

He feels the corners of his mouth lift in joy at your praise. “Will you still be here... when I wake up?”

“Of course.” You kiss his eyelid, the tip of his nose, then his cheek. “I’ll always be with you, Kyoujurou. We promised each other since we were kids, am I right?”

“Okay.” He murmurs. Relief settles deep into his weary bones, and he allows himself to stop fighting the exhaustion dragging him under. You’ll be there when he opens his eyes again. “When I wake up... I have something important... I wanted to tell you...”

You wait for him to continue, but Rengoku Kyoujurou falls silent and still – and stays that way. His warm smile remains on his face, and you fight back your tears to press a featherlight kiss against his brow, so that you don’t disturb his peaceful slumber.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, your voice hushed with unshed tears. Your hand, stained with his blood, cups his cheek gently. “Goodnight and sweet dreams, Kyoujurou.”

#rengoku #rengoku fanfic #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kyojuro #kyoujurou #rengoku kyojuro x reader #I KNOW I WROTE IT BUT SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME THE MAN ISNT DEAD

215 notes · View notes

teletraan-meets-jarvis · 3 years

Text

Monster - Part 1

AO3 Link

Characters: Commander Fox (Main), Captain Rex, Commander Thorn, Corrie Medic Triage (OC), Anakin Skywalker, Fives.

Summary: Fives' death through the eyes of Commander Fox.

Warnings: 16+, swearing, mentions of death.

Word Count: 1.6k

Click here for Part 2

Author’s Notes: First trip on the angst train folks. I've had this in my head for ages because I wanted to try something that wasn't relationship focused and I'm still not over this whole storyline with the chips, they were so darn close to exposing ol' sheev. Fox deserves some spotlight but i'm very sorry it had to be on this. I have got a part 2 practically written up already but wanted to test the waters with this bit first. Let me know what you think!! Fic below the cutoff :).

The title is from the song Monster by Starset. If you're after some good sci-fi related songs for the feels, Startset is where it's at.

Under the knife I surrendered The innocence yours to consume You cut it away And you filled me up with hate Into the silence you sent me Into the fire consumed You thought I'd forget But it's always in my head

Each step was quiet, calculated as CC-1010 moved into the storage bay. His men following his lead as they prepared to surround their target. General Skywalker was verbally defending the Chancellor from where he was captured in a ray shield. The target was unaware of their presence, time to move in.

Set to stun.

“Stand down, soldier! Get on your knees!” CC-1010 commanded, surrounded by his Shock Troopers. The target looked over at the unattended pistols. “Don’t do it solider.”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

“FIVES NO!”

Threat. Eliminate the threat.

Good soldiers, follow orders.

Set to Kill. CC-1010 never missed.

No.

Rex was screaming.

General Skywalker was ordering the Guard to lower the ray shields, not that CC-1010 could hear him over the ringing in his ears.

No.

The Captain was at his ARC-Trooper’s side, cradling his head. The blaster wound a disgusting contrast to the pure, shiny, white plastoid of his armour. The blaster wound that CC- no, that Fox inflicted.

No no no no no no.

The pistol fell from his hands and clattered to the ground as Fox came back to himself, the only sound which could be heard among the silence apart from Rex’s begging to Fives to stay with him.

Fox tore off his helmet. He couldn’t breathe. Fuck. The weight of what he just did crashed into him like a tsunami, threatening to take him down, tear him apart.

He stared at his gloved hands which shook uncontrollably. He tried to stop them but his brain didn’t have control of his body anymore. His men were looking at him, he could feel their gaze tearing into him like a jury to a defendant. Watching as their Commander fell apart.

He fell to his knees. No longer able to support his own body weight alongside the weight of his actions. He’d just killed another clone. One of his own vode. His own flesh and blood. That’d never happened before. Sure there had been traitors before among the clone ranks, but they’d never been executed on site. They’d never been pursued by Fox. Lucky them.

The chancellors’ orders echoed in his ears. “Eliminate the threat, Commander.”

Not bring him in for questioning. Eliminate him. No court hearing, no hearing Fives’ side like Slick and others before him. Just execution. And Fox was his executioner. Fuck he was going to vomit.

“Rex” Fox didn’t realise he was speaking until Rex’s eyes met his over Fives’ lifeless body, which he continued to cradle like his last hopes in this war.

Rex’s eyes were cold as ice, the power behind them attempting to freeze Fox to his very core. He didn’t blame him.

The heartbreak at losing another member of Torrent Company cracking the Captain’s usually unshakeable composure. As it fell apart piece by piece in front of Fox’s eyes, he was left staring at his little brother. His Rex’ika. Distraught, heartbroken, empty. He wanted nothing more than to protect him like back on Kamino, when Rex was a young cadet who feared the thunderstorms of their home planet. But Fox couldn’t protect Rex from this, Fox was the reason behind his brother’s agony, his loss. Fox was the monster.

“I-…” he couldn’t get the words out. He couldn’t explain himself. What could he say? I didn’t have a choice, I had to follow orders? That wasn’t going to fix the hole left in Rex’s heart. For losing Fives and for losing Fox too, because the Commander was sure he was dead to him.

Rex finally pulled his eyes away and it broke Fox’s heart. The Captain looked back down at his friend in his arms, his brother. He brought his forehead forward as he raised Fives’s, meeting him in one final Keldabe as he recited the Mando’a that had become far too familiar for them all. Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la. He cradled Fives close to his chest and hooked a hand under his legs as he got to his feet.

Rex’s face was stony, emotionless as he carried his fallen brother out of the storage bay. He held himself together as he brushed past the helmet-less Shock Troopers who stood stock still around their shaken Commander. He didn’t even spare Fox a glance. General Skywalker was hot on his Captain’s heels, going to offer support where he could. Just like that they were gone.

“Sir-“ one of the troopers went to place a hand on his Commander’s shoulder.

“Tell the Chancellor it’s done” Fox snapped out, the words tasting like bitter bile in his mouth. He did his best to regain himself as he grabbed his bucket, re-securing it and his emotions behind as strong a wall as he could fortify in his current state. Still shaking hands clasped around the dropped blaster and Fox finally returned to his feet, slightly unsteady.

“Return to base” his orders were flat as they came through the helmet. His soldiers didn’t react for a moment. He looked each of his men over, their shock at watching what happened bared to the world on their faces. He couldn’t take it. “Now.” Finally they nodded and made the move to leave the Gods-forsaken place.

Everything was a blur; people, places, all fading into nothingness behind Fox as he paced back to his office. His safe space. His feet carried him while his mind drifted, almost leaving his body in an attempt to protect himself from the internal horrors that threatened his grasp on reality.

Next he knew he was back in his office, no idea what route he’d taken to get there. The door had barely shut behind him before he stumbled to the small refresher attached and vomited. Choked sobs wracked his body as he emptied his stomach, tears creating salty tracks down his cheeks.

Once his body stopped torturing him, he finally backed away from the toilet and crawled to lean against the ‘fresher wall. His legs sprawled out in front of him as he threw his head back against the cool tiles. The sharp pain from the action doing nothing to bring him back, to distract him from the agony in his mind.

————

“Fox, Fox!! It’s Thorn, are you there?” The heavy gunner shouted from outside, his fists banging on the door demanding entry.

Nothing.

Thorn had heard what had happened, half the Guard already knew by now. Fox had been ordered to execute another clone by the Chancellor. As soon as the confirmation reached his ears, the Commander dropped everything to find his superior. He’d been friends with Fox long enough to know when he was nearing his breaking point, and he knew that this would throw him off the edge of his sanity.

“Kriff, Fox. I’m coming in!” He announced before punching the code in and rushing in to find his friend.

What Thorn found wasn’t pretty. Fox was propped up against the fresher wall, his head covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his amber eyes glassed over as he sobbed. He looked absolutely wrecked.

Thorn dropped to his side and took hold of his hands in an attempt to ground his friend. “Fox, hey Fox, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

“I heard what happened. I need you to come back to us, yeah. Maker, we need you Fox.” That got his attention, Fox’s watery eyes met his, but the Commander wasn’t fully present behind them yet.

“It wasn’t me” Fox choked out in barely a whisper, tears flowing freely again. Thorn moved forward and pulled the Commander into his arms, their armour fitting awkwardly against one another but it was enough. The broken man clung to his brother as he continued to repeat his words in a tear filled mantra against Thorn’s armour.

After what felt like forever, the shudders that tore through Fox’s body eventually died down to something more manageable. Thorn took that as his moment to try and get his Commander sat up again, maybe even get some water in him. He began to pull away slightly so he could look him in the eyes but as soon as he did, Fox started babbling again. At least it was a few more words than before.

“I set the gun to stun, I swear. I don’t know what happened. Once I saw Fives, everything went dark.” He tried to explain with as much coherence as he could. “They’ll never forgive me for this.” Thorn knew who he was talking about, his batch mates. Cody, Wolffe, Bly, Ponds and Gree. Fox had felt that their relationship was strained ever since he joined the Guard and his brothers went out to fight on the front lines. He’d become the cold leader of the Coruscant Elite Guard, he had the ‘cushy desk job’ while they had to watch their men die day in and day out on the battlefield. The sad truth was that they’d never understand the things the Guard had to go through each day. One night after a particularly tough day, he’d listened as Fox admitted that he wished he could provide his men with honourable deaths in battle to save them from their fates within the Guard.

Thorn’s chest felt like a vice as he cradled his friend, trying to absorb some of his pain as if it would help make things a bit easier on him. He’d never seen Fox like this and it was killing him. Why did the Chancellor always place the worst jobs on the Commander, why did he have to keep him so close, right under his thumb ready to make him do the dirty work. Never thinking about the aftermath, because the clones didn’t matter. So long as Fox kept showing up and performing admirably on the surface, the day to day pain and suffering wasn’t of concern to the Republic, least of all to the Grand Chancellor.

“Fox, I’m going to call Triage alright? He’ll know what to do.” Thorn announced softly, not getting much of an acknowledgment for his words as Fox started to drift off in his arms, his body’s exhaustion overtaking him for a blissful moment.

Continue to Part 2

Back to Masterlist

#commander fox #commander thorn #captain rex #fives #anakin skywalker #star wars fanfic #star wars fic #clone wars fanfic #clone wars fic #arc trooper fives #clone wars season 6 #i love you fives #it's still not fair #i will probs write a mini fix it one of these days #coruscant #coruscant guard #corrie guard

39 notes · View notes

megumisbimbo · 3 years

Text

- Five -

megumi fushiguro x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

summary: (y/n) was nothing special. A human being who had no idea that curses walked the same earth they walked. But then they locked eyes with Megumi Fushiguro. Can Fushiguro focus on the task ahead or will he be distracted by the king of curses and his new love interest?

series masterlist

Credit for the main storyline and characters goes to Gege Akutami.

tags: @xreemie @kitkozume @noyakura @vanilnya20 @tobi--o

the songs are indicated throughout the story at certain points!

songs used:

i love you - billie eilish

killshot - magdalena bay

You sit in Megumi’s room, an empty box of sashimi and soda can sitting beside you. You’re on your fifth movie, silently wishing Fushiguro would come through the door and keep you company.

Your wish is granted...but not in the way you’d hoped.

Fushiguro’s beaten and broken body leans on the door frame as he pushes the door open with the only strength he has left. You run up to the door and he falls into your outstretched arms.

“Megumi! Are you ok?? What happened?!”

“(y/n)...i’m sorry...”

“Sorry? Megumi what’s going on?”

He doesn’t respond, dropping his tired head onto your shoulder. You pull him into the room and throw him onto his bed. You lightly smack his face a few times in hopes of waking him up a bit, but he’s knocked out cold. You run out the room frantically searching for Yuuji. You run into Nobara’s room and find her face in bandages.

What the hell happened.

—— i love you - billie eilish ——

You nervously sit by Megumi’s bedside, waiting for him to wake up again. After about an hour he wakes up. He sees your face and quickly sits up.

“(y/n)!”

“Megumi what’s going on!? Nobara’s face is bandaged and I can’t find Yuuji anywhere!”

He reaches a hand out and cups your cheek, wiping away the small tears that roll down your face. You didn’t even know you were crying.

“I’m scared Megumi...”

“I know, and I don’t know if there’s an easy way to tell you this, but Itadori...is not coming back...”

Your eyes widen in shock.

“What do you mean-”

“(y/n) he...he’s dead...”

You stare blankly into his eyes, processing the words that just came out of his mouth.

He can’t be.

Your eyes well up with even more tears, and they stream down your face leaving a warm trail. Your heart is racing and millions of questions are running through your mind.

“Him and Kou fought-“

“Kou?” You say, cutting him off

“...Kou...was also killed by the curse...”

The pain is too much. Your crying becomes louder and more violent. You’re shaking uncontrollably as Megumi holds onto your arms, keeping you from hurting yourself. Your eyes shoot open and your pupils begin shaking. Megumi notices and desperately tries to calm you down. He pulls you into his arms and presses your face onto the fabric on his shoulder, as you sob. He pulls away slightly, putting your face in between his warm hands. Your eyes are still shaking. Your hysteria isn’t going to let up anytime soon. He pulls your face up towards his, stopping with only a few inches between you two. You feel his hot breath on your lips. Your eyes flutter closed as you wait for Megumi’s soft lips to meet yours. He swipes his thumb across your cheek, getting rid of the excess moisture from your tears. He pulls away, panting heavily.

“Let’s sleep for a bit. There’s lots to think about and I think we would both benefit from a nap right now.” He says, unable to make eye contact.

You absentmindedly nod and fall into his arms, exhausted from crying. You rest your head against his chest, and his heartbeat gently lulls you to sleep.

You wake up a while later, unsure of how much time has passed. Couldn’t have been long if the sun is still out. You’re alone.

Where’s Megumi?

You barely make it out the door when you suddenly remember that Itadori was gone...Kou was too...

You walk back into the room feeling utterly defeated.

Wait...earlier.

Megumi.

Was he trying...to kiss you?

—— killshot - magdalena bay ——

Megumi pov:

Why did I do that.

They’re probably really confused.

What if they don’t like me back.

I shouldn’t have got that close.

But it felt so right...

“‘Live a long life’?..doesn’t mean much when you go and die yourself. Is this your first time having a partner die?” Kugisaki asks, sitting on the steps beside me.

“First time for one my age...”

“Well you’re taking it well.”

“Same to you, although (y/n) isn’t...”

“You told them already?”

“They had to find out at some point, I thought maybe they’d want to hear it from me.”

“Well I didn’t know him for that long. I’m not some simple woman who cries when someone she just met dies.” She says.

Her breathing becomes shaky and I can hear her sniffling. My eyes begin to water just a bit but I hold them back when I hear a familiar voice.

“What’s this? You’re looking more glum than usual Megumi. This a wake or something?”

“Zenin-senpai.” I respond.

“Don’t call me by my last name!-“

She’s swiftly interrupted by another familiar voice coming from behind a statue.

“Maki! Maki! You actually don’t know why they’re so down?” Panda-senpai says.

“What are you talking about?” Maki responds.

“Someone really did die yesterday! One of the first year boys!”

“Bonito flakes”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!? Now I look like some heartless, cold-blooded demon!”

“That’s exactly how you came off!”

“Tunamayo.”

I look over my shoulder and see (y/n) coming towards us.

I guess they were going to meet the second years at some point. Might as well be now.

“(y/n)!” I say standing up to meet them.

They walk over to where I’m standing and wrap an arm around my waist, burying their cheek in my shoulder.

I wrap my arm around their shoulders and place my opposite hand on their cheek stroking it lightly.

I guess they’re not mad at me.

Nobara gets up and stands next to us, eyeing us and the position we’re currently in.

“Hm, I knew something was up.”

I give a small smile and look at (y/n) who looks lost in their thoughts. I wonder what they’re thinking about.

(y/n) pov:

You stand next to Megumi, his arm wrapped protectively around you. Tight enough to make you feel safe, but not enough to suffocate you. You gripped onto him as your thoughts take you captive once again.

“You’re supposed to try and make me feel better!!” You hear a voice say in the distance.

Who were those people? They seem to be wearing similar uniforms to you three.

“Who are those guys?” Nobara asks.

“The second year upperclassmen.” Megumi responds.

So they’re your age...

“You have to be kinder to your underclassmen.” The panda says.

Wait...the panda...talks?!?

Megumi interrupts your thoughts and starts giving a rundown on who each student is.

“Zenin-senpai is the best of all the students at wielding cursed tools.” He says pointing to the tall green-haired ponytail girl.

“Salmon.”

“That’s the cursed speech user, Inumaki-senpai. He can only speak in onigiri ingredients. And that’s Panda-senpai. There’s one more, Okkotsu-senpai, he’s the only one I can openly respect, but he’s overseas right now.” Megumi explains, looking at yours and Nobara’s confused faces.

“Wait. You’re not adding more about the panda named Panda?” Nobara responds.

You look at Megumi and nod your head in agreement with Nobara.

He sighs and looks away from both of you.

“We’re sorry about this...and when you’re in mourning. Please forgive us for that. The truth is we’d like you to participate in the Kyoto Sister School Exchange Event.” The panda says, his hands clasped together, practically begging.

“Kyoto Sister School Exchange Event? What’s that?” Nobara asks, looking to Megumi for any kind of explanation.

“It’s a get together with the other tech school in Kyoto. But isn’t it mainly for second and third years?” He asks his senpais.

“Those stupid third years are suspended right now. So you need to participate.”

Panda describes what goes on at the event, saying that it’s basically a showdown between jujutsu sorcerers from each school.

I don’t understand anything they’re talking about.

“So you’ll do it right? I mean you just had a partner die on you after all.”

You flinch at the ponytail’s comment. Megumi notices and squeezes your shoulder lightly. Both first years look at you, silently asking for permission to train and fight in this event. You smile and nod.

You wouldn’t want them to miss out on something just because of you.

“We’re in.”

AHHH uni is kicking my butt right now so i’m only going to be able to post once a week from now on :(( i’m so sorry but pls bear with me !

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro x reader #jjk anime #jjk megumi #jjk angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #maki zenin #panda senpai #tuna tuna

80 notes · View notes

chicksung · 4 years

Note

ok so i just had this weird fic idea and i feel like you’d write it WAY better than i would. so you know those reversible octopus toys? idk if you’ve ever seen them but people use them to indicate mood. i think it’d be a cute idea if like y/n had a bad day so she turned the octopus to the sad face and kun sees it and tries to make her feel better? idk i just had the idea and you could probably write it better than me akdkxkdkckxck

Inside Out and Upside Down || Qian Kun

Genre: fluffy fluffy fluff fluff

Pairing: idol boyfriend!kun x fem reader

Warning/s: would you count a bad day as a warning?

Word Count: 0.9k

Synopsis: You were never one to properly express your emotions through words and an octopus plush seemed to do the talking for you. But the last thing Kun wanted to see when he got home was a frowning octopus and a upset girlfriend

A/N: Another request from my luv, @peachy-beomie aka EMMA! I had very little knowledge of these plushies going into this but I think it’s such a clever idea. Thank you for requesting luv!

Work. Everyone had to do it at some point in their lives. It was unavoidable, if you wanted a stable source of income that is. So, just like you do every other morning, four out of the five weekdays, you got up at 5am, busied yourself with making breakfast, getting dressed and ready and making sure to take enough time to make your boyfriend, Kun, his lunch. And by 6:30, you were out the door.

However, today had not gone your way. At all.

The coffee machine broke during your busiest hour, the eggs in the fridge had gone past their expiration date without any of the other employees noticing, which mean you had the delight of taking them out, through the kitchen and out the back to the dumpster, found two teenagers doing less than appropriate things behind that dumpsters, you had dealt with four rude customers in a row and at this point, you were ready to curl up in a ball and cry until your tears made a big enough river to drift your sad self all the way back home.

You pushed through ‘like a trooper’ your boss, Denise, put it and you almost sighed with relief when you clocked out. Waving goodbye to your coworkers, you left the coffee shop and dragging yourself into the car to drag yourself home.

You reached home and unlocked the front door and groaned as soon as you stepped through the threshold. The warm homely feeling wrapped your body comfortable, but it didn’t do anything to help your current headspace. You entered the bedroom you shared with Kun, scurrying around the room, snatching up a pair of your sweats and your favourite shirt of Kun’s, a light blue colour that reached your mid-thigh.

You changed quickly and flopped onto your bed, releasing an exasperated sigh before your eye caught something. The tiny soft plush of a octopus.

Kun had gifted it to you for your birthday. He knew you weren’t very good at expressing your emotions through words. There were times where he’d come home to you crying into your pillow or sulking on your bed, but no matter what he tried to try and coax you into telling him what was wrong, you always just ended up communicating through grunts. It was a better way to communicate anyway, only having to signify your emotions by flipping the octopus’ soft insides to face you with a tiny frown on its blanket soft face.

You huffed and grabbed the plush toy, flipping the pretty royal purple colour into a red colour, the stitched on frowny face staring back at you. You continued to stare at it before hugging it to your chest and letting your emotions crash over you.

The sound of keys jingling together on a keyring caught your attention. You glanced at your appearance, puffy eyes, red cheeks, hair sticking in every possible direction. You looked like an emotional train wreck. Well, at least you were expressing your feelings.

Kun, your wonderfully talented boyfriend, waltzed into the house and shimmied his way to the bedroom.

“Baby~” He called out as he opened the door, eyes connecting to the emotional wreck of you, his face contorting into concern. “Hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” He rushed to your side, leaning down and grabbing your hand, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. You shook his head at him before you buried your face into the covers and began to sob uncontrollably.

If there was one thing Qian Kun hated, it was seeing you cry.

Kun sat on the bed, gathering you up in his arms and squeezed you tightly, rocking his body back and forth, like a mother soothing her upset child. He noticed the octopus plush in your arms and saw the colour. Red. She’s upset.

“Oh my darling princess.” He cooed as he embraced you tightly once more. He released you from his bear hug and sighed. You had stopped crying but you were shaking and looked like a mess. A very adorable one in his own humble opinion, but that was beside the point.

“Work didn’t go well. Hell, today didn’t go well. I’ve just had the worst day. I’m surprised I didn’t stub my toe on the way through the door.” You admit that you were being a little over dramatic but with your emotions mixed together like some strange cocktail, it makes more sense than it would if they weren’t.

Kun heard you sniff, absorbing everything you just told him and kissed your temple. “I’m sorry today didn’t go your way, my love. Anything I can do to make my princess feel better?” He asked you, pulling you away from his shoulder and looking you with his sparkly brown eyes. You pondered on his words for a moment, nodding your head in return.

“Yes. There is.”

“When I asked you if there was anything I could to help you feel better, this wasn’t exactly what I pictured.” Kun said as you tied his hair into tiny ponytails, his eyeshadow done meticulously and his eyeliner miraculously even. You only giggled as you applied a light layer of blush to his cheeks, occasionally slapping his arm to stop him from moving away from the brush (he claimed it was tickling him)

“You said I could do whatever I wanted, and this is what I want.” You playfully huffed, turning his face closer to the light so you could see your artistry in a better view.

Kun smiles. “As long as you’re happy, I really don’t care.”

#kpop #fanfiction #nctnetwrite #kpop fanfiction #nct fluff #nct fanfiction #kpop fluff #kpop smut #nct smut #wayv kun #wayv fanfiction #qian kun #wayv fluff #wayv smut #neothestars

140 notes · View notes

justanotherlifeff · 4 years

Note

Bakugou or Aizawa with a chubby reader? Shes insecure / doesnt feel like she deserves them. Fluffy and smutty? Praise kink/body worship? Thanks!!

Soft

Aight Imma write Bakubabe cause he's my main bitch (If I don't count Levi from attack on titan)

Warning: NSFW, Smut, body worship, praise kink, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF THAT MAKES MY SINGLE ASS WANT TO CRY IN A CORNER

Looking at the mirror, yet another sigh escaped your mouth. You've been doing this for quite a while, degrading yourself to oblivion every day as you stared at yourself on the mirror after taking a shower. You hated that bulge on your stomach, how thick your thighs were, how full your hips were. Wallowing in self pity, you finally wrapped the towel around you and went back to your shared room with your long term boyfriend who was currently fast asleep. You usually never woke up before your boyfriend but recently, you barely got any sleep at night thanks to your insecurities. Looking at the muscular, beautiful figure sleeping on the bed, you wondered, why on earth was he dating you? Your boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki, was considered as one of the most attractive heroes of Japan. Hell, even the Ground Zero fangirls thought that he deserved better than you. The two of you were highschool sweethearts and were still going strong years later. However, you decided not to be a hero at the end and went for a regular civilian job that suited your quirk. Which is why, you just weren’t the fit person that you were back then. You gained weight and now, you were insecured. You felt as if Bakugou deserved better.

You didn't realise when a single tear escaped your eye as you stood in the closet. Nor did you realise that your man was right behind you, and noticed you crying and deep in thought. Which is why, you were surprised when you felt two hands on your waist, pulling you closer to your captor's chest. You knew that it was Bakugou instantly since you had memorized his scent, the way his body felt by now. "Why are you crying dumbass?" Bakugou muttered sleepily as he buried his face on the crook of your neck. "Huh? What? I'm not crying..." you protested as you hastily wiped the tears off your face. "You really take me for an idiot don't you dumbass?" Bakugou grumbled sternly as you felt his sharp gaze at you. "Sorry..." you muttered, looking down, all his affectionate touches almost breaking the dam to your eyes. "It's okay. Tell me what's wrong." Bakugou commanded you as he cupped your face and made you look at him. That's when the dam finally broke and you were sobbing. Bakugou's eyes widened at your state and his good boyfriend instincts suddenly kicked in as he hugged you tightly, trying to comfort you. Even when he was trying his best, he was never too good with words which is why he always let his actions prove to you how much he cares.

It seemed like his hug was making you cry harder which confused him to no ends. "Babe what's wrong. You gotta tell me." Bakugou stated in a panicked tone. "I don't deserve you..." you managed to choke out as you buried your face into his chest. "Hah? Which bastard said that? Who do I need to blast (Y/N)? Gimme a fucking name!" Bakugou snapped, angry that someone managed to make his girl feel this way. "No... No one said that... It's just me... I don't look good enough... I'm fat and ugly... You deserve better... You look like a fucking God and I..." your words were cut short due to being passionately kissed by your man. The kiss was short yet passionate, leaving you breathless. "You really are a dumbass you know? Lemme show you how beautiful you actually are cause you're too dumb to see it on your own." Bakugou muttered to your ear, making you tremble in anticipation. Your towel was pulled off you in an instant as Bakugou was on top of you before you realised it.

His hands trailing on your curves sent shivers down your spine. His large palms stopped at your thighs and gave them a firm squeeze. "I love how thick these are... When I go down on you and you try to close your legs on me, I cant fucking explain how great it feels to he between them. Besides..." he cut himself off to smack your ass gently making you yelp in surprise. "Your thighs and this ass are like a fucking stress relief toy. You don't fucking know how great I feel after dealing with shitty villains all day and coming back home to squeeze these..." Bakugou muttered. With that, he began to trail kisses down your body, surprising you as he kissed your stomach multiple times. "Do I even have to tell you how cute that tummy is? So fucking soft... You don't fucking know how much I just want to kiss it every time I see you naked." Bakugou grumbled, making you giggle slightly. "The fuck are you laughing at idiot?" Bakugou snapped at you which made you laugh even harder. "It's so weird to see you use the word 'tummy'" you managed to tell him between your laughing fits. "Shut the fuck up dumbass!" Bakugou blushed as he buried his face into your stomach, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing. Deep down, he was happy that you were finally laughing even if it meant that he had to embarrass himself to make it happen.

"Alright stop laughing idiot. I'm not done yet." Bakugou grumbled when he felt like you laughed enough as he pinched your clit, making your laughs turn into a loud moan instantaneously. "See, you're so fucking responsive to me... Look what you do to me..." Bakugou muttered to you as he placed your hand on his large erection. You blushed furiously at his action. You've been with him for years but it seemed like you'd never get used to him being so erotic. "Fuck... I'd say a million other good things about you but I can't wait anymore." Bakugou hissed as he took off his sweatpants and boxers to reveal his painful looking erection to you. Now that all his praising got you wet enough, Bakugou decided to get right into action and plunged his length into you, eliciting a loud moan.

"Fuck you're so tight... You're fucking sucking my cock in you..." Bakugou hissed at the feeling of being inside you, his words making you clench harder around him. Without a warning, he started pounding into you, his hand groping your breast. "Do you know how fucking beautiful of a view I'm seeing right now? Don't you fucking dare call yourself ugly cause I'll blast your ass." Bakugou hissed at you before giving you a quirk enhanced spank on your ass, making your eyes roll in pleasure. After a while when he already made you cum once, without any warning, he turned you, making you be on your fours with your ass up before entering you yet again, overstimulating you and hitting a special spot inside you. You were sure that his grip on your waist would end up bruising as he fucked you into oblivion. At this point, you couldn't form any coherent speech and continued to moan uncontrollably as he continued to pleasure you.

"Look at you... Such a good girl for me.. Taking my cock so well... Don't you ever think that I'd stop loving the hell outta you ever. Fuckkk you're too fucking good... Shit I'm gonna cum..." Bakugou panted as he rammed his length into you with sheer force, making you cum for the second time today. The fluttering of your pussy drove him to his own release. Bakugou was a strong man, thanks to training his body for years due to his determination on being the number 1 hero. Which is why, while you were completely tired and laid on the bed panting, Bakugou went up to the washroom to get a washcloth to clean you up. After he was done, instead of going to make breakfast, he decided to skip work (something he rarely did) and spend the day with you. Never had he ever imagined that his girl would feel insecured about herself and he was determined to beat the feeling out of you.

"Katsuki... You'll be late for work..." you muttered when Bakugou joined you on the bed and pulled you close to him. "Fuck work. I'm taking the day off. You're gonna call in sick today too. There's no way in hell you'd feel insecured under my watch. I'll blast your insecurities into oblivion." Bakugou grumbled as he pressed his face into your hair, his arms secured around you tightly with a leg on your body. The way he was holding you like a clingy big baby made you giggle as you threw one of your hands around him as well. "You know, there's one other good thing about you." Bakugou muttered. "Hmm?" you hummed happily in response. "You're soft.. Like a teddy bear.. Feels nice to hold you.." he mumbled with a blush making you choke on your spit.

"Wow... Didn't know you were such a softie..."

"SHUT UP DUMBASS! I'LL FUCKING BLAST YOU IF YOU SAY THAT AGAIN!"

"Sorryyyyy!! I'll be your personal (your height) foot teddy bear alright?"

"Hmm you better be... Idiot..."

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugo fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugou ? reader #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou smut #bakugou × reader #bakugou fluff

382 notes · View notes

narakurosaki · 3 years

Text

title: love in the dark.

summary: when den grows ill, ed takes the first train to amestris to be by winry’s side. sadly, he’s too late, and winry turns to her fiancé for a comfort only he can provide.

or, den passes and winry seeks sexual pleasure from ed to bring her comfort.

words: 5998

rating: m

read on ao3!

Thump, thump, thump!

“Mr. Elric?”

Thump, thump, thump!

“Mr. Elric!”

The man in question groans, stirring from his sleep. A groan rumbles in his throat. He flips onto his stomach and buries his head beneath his pillow, holding it close to his ears to dampen the noise. “Sign says do not disturb. You’re disturbing me. Go away.”

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

“Mr. Elric, please! There’s an urgent call waiting for you!”

Urgent?

He clambers out of bed and to his feet, nearly tripping on the pair of pants he’d carelessly discarded after an extensive visit to the city’s university library. He fumbles with the doorknob, forgetting to unlock the door in his haste. He twists and tugs, but the door does not budge. “Just a second!” he calls out and gives another tug. He grits his teeth before it clicks—he quickly unlocks the door, twists the knob, and swings the door open. “What happened? Is it my fiancée? My brother?”

The front desk clerk blinks at the sight of a frazzled Edward Elric, clad in only his boxers. He adjusts his hat and says, “Your fiancée, I believe. I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying through her tears.”

Tears.

Winry.

His heart descends into his stomach. For her to cry so hard that the hotel employee struggled to make out what she’d said, let alone to call so late at night, meant something was terribly wrong back home. He retreats back into his room and fetches his pants. He pulls them on and zips them up, and pushes his way past the clerk. He was certain to receive stares, should anyone be awake—he’d forgotten a shirt, leaving his scarred torso exposed, and appeared rather frazzled. Guests were bound to think he was but a madman who had wandered into the hotel and decided to loiter within the lobby.

He takes the steps two at a time, passing on the elevator to save time. When he reaches the first floor, he beelines for the front desk and holds out his hand in waiting. The clerk currently managing it hands him the receiver; Edward snatches it quickly, and brings it to his ear.

“Winry? Are you okay?”

On the other end, Winry sobs uncontrollably. Ed feels as though he’s been punched in the gut. “N-no…”

His thoughts race at a mile a minute, dozens of scenarios serving to activate his sympathetic nervous system; epinephrine floods his bloodstream. He can feel his body begin to tremble. Was it Granny? He breaks out in a cold sweat. Had there been an accident? He feels his heartbeat pulse throughout every inch of his body. Did Winry fall ill? He can feel the burning of stomach acid against his throat’s sensitive tissue. He swallows his saliva in an effort to force the acid back down.

Before he has the chance to inquire further, Winry sniffles and coughs. “It’s.. Den.”

No.

Den had been around since he, Al, and Winry were young. Den could survive anything, of that Edward was convinced. The Rockbell family pet had lost his leg as a pup, having gotten it stuck in the train tracks when he had wandered away from home. After getting him free, the leg had to be amputated due to extensive damage. Pinako had crafted a leg for the dog shortly after his recovery, allowing him to lead a normal life. Since then, he had never grown ill, nor sustained injury. Winry dedicated herself to training the dog to act as emotional support for those recovering from the surgery needed to install automail. He had been a great help to Edward during his recovery process, and served as a walking companion to Alphonse after the boys’ return home. The three of them had grown rather close with him, though neither brother had gotten as close to him as Winry had.

Nonetheless, a sense of dread overtakes Edward.

His grasp on the receiver tightens, and he drives his left fist down upon the front desk. “How bad?”

“Bad,” Winry says, her voice hoarse from crying. Another sob overtakes her, and all he can do is wait it out. “He can’t…” Sniffle. “Keep anything…” Hic. “Down. The veterinarian…” Sniffle. “Said he doesn’t have much…” Sniffle. “Time left.”

Fuck.

“Hey, desk guy!” Edward covers the receiver with his hand to muffle his words. “What time is it?”

The desk clerk, surprised, reads the time from the clock ticking away at his workstation. “It’s 3:47 A.M. sir.”

The next train wouldn’t leave for another thirteen minutes, and that was if he was lucky enough to snag a ticket. He traveled light these days, leaving the majority of his belongings back in Resembool, in Winry’s bedroom. If he hurried, he would be able to pack his suitcase and make it to the station by 3:55 A.M.

“It’s gonna be a bit—” he moves his hand from the receiver and offers the desk clerk a thumbs-up as thanks “—but I’ll be home soon, okay? I’m leaving right now.”

There’s no response on the other end. He hears only her breathing and the clearing of her throat. He can picture her nodding.

“I love you, Winry.”

She sucks in a breath and exhales. “I love you, too.”

— — —

Five days had passed by the time he makes it to Resembool.

From where he had been within the country of Creta, his first train had taken him straight to a town along the Cretan-Anestrian border, a two day journey on its own. He’d arrived late into the night, and was dismayed to discover that the train to Dublith did not depart until morning. While he’d contemplated booking a hotel room, he’d grown far too antsy. Throughout the night, Edward paced the station, watching the clock and counting down the time. His eyes wandered to the payphones often, though he thought it best not to wake the Rockbell household. Eventually, he’d taken a seat on a bench and waited for the train’s arrival, praying to a god he did not believe in for Den to have the strength to survive until he’d arrived home.

He hits the ground running, pushing past familiar faces, beelining straight for the Rockbell home. His left knee squeaks with every bend, a product of his failure to maintain it properly. And while he would usually curse the damned thing for being so loud, he knew that Winry had more important things to worry about than his lack of oiling.

It’s strange to enter the Rockbell’s property without the deep barking of their dog. Edward nearly leaps up the steps and onto the deck, and knocks on the door with the side of his fist. He’d packed his key away in his suitcase in his haste, and there was no time to waste searching for it.

The door squeaks and opens inward. There is no blonde to greet him with a grin and a kiss, only her short-statured grandmother with her pipe in hand. She lacks her eyeglasses, her grief on full display.

Edward forces his way through the door and into the home. He scans his surroundings and what he can see of the living room for his fiancée and her dog. “Where is she?”

“Her room,” Pinako says, taking a drag of her pipe. She blows the smoke into the air. “She’s been in there since Den’s passing.”

Passing.

Oh, no.

We’re Pinako taller, he would have shoved her out of his way. Instead, Edward steps around her and breaks out in a sprint, taking the stairs two at a time. He makes a beeline for the door at the end of the stairs, skidding to a stop before it. Time stands still as he reaches for the doorknob; behind his eardrums, his heart pumps blood throughout his body, the whooshing of each beat prominent as his blood pressure rises. His fingers curl around the knob, his wrist turns, and his arm cracks the door slightly. Cautiously, he peeks inside, met only with darkness. The setting sun struggles to shine through the drawn curtains.

“Winry…?” he whispers, tentatively entering the room. The whoosh of his blood pumping behind his eardrum grows louder, and his brain crafts a faint ringing to drown out the silence.

Golden eyes peer through the darkness, scanning the room as his vision adjusts. The workbench to his left is a cluttered mess, quite the opposite of his fiancée’s organized workspace; the chair in front of the vanity sits crooked, as though it’s last occupant had pushed themselves away in a hurry; and, to his right, curled on her side atop the bed, lies Winry. She faces the wall ahead of him, her body shaking with each strangled sob. It seems as though she isn't aware of his presence. That, or she’s far too distraught to acknowledge it. He closes the door behind him, kicks off his boots, and crawls into bed beside her.

“Hey,” he greets softly, wrapping his arms around her, “I’m here. I’m here.”

Something within her must have snapped, for the moment he’d pulled her to his chest, Winry began sobbing uncontrollably. With each jerk of her body, the clinging of metal-upon-metal rings out, mingling with the sound of her pained cries. Edward brushes her loose hair aside with his nose and presses his lips against the skin beneath her ear.

She hadn’t cried like this in years. Not since that day in Central, when she’d stumbled upon the battle between him, Al, and Scar. He’d been so stupid that day, ignoring his little brother’s pleas to just shut up. He had seen Winry before Ed had; had he known, he wouldn’t have spoken so openly about the murder of her parents at the hands of the Ishvalan. But he’d ran his mouth, reopening old wounds, driving Winry mad with grief. She’d threatened to shoot the man responsible for the deaths of her parents, saved from the life of a murderer by Ed. He’d pried the gun from her hand and informed her that her hands were meant to help people live, not to take away their lives. Winry had shattered to pieces mere seconds after the gun fell against the concrete, throwing herself into Ed’s arms, and sobbing uncontrollably. Her voice had been hoarse by the time he and Alphonse met back up with her.

The sobs that wrack her body send him back in time. He’s fifteen, again, heart aching as his best-friend clutches his cloak and buries her face in his shirt, her warm tears soaking through the fabric and settling against his skin. The only difference this time around, however, is his newfound ability to bring her comfort, to reassure her that she is safe and loved, to kiss her tears away. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and inhales her scent. He squeezes her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here for you, but I am now, okay? And I promise you—I’m not going anywhere.”

In his arms, she turns to face him. She struggles to catch her breath, does her best to sniffle away the dripping from her nose. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen, dark circles having made their home beneath them. Clutched to her chest is Den’s collar. The coarse red fabric is stained with tears. Edward gently plucks it away and sets it on the bedside table. He cups her cheek and wipes the tears that spill with the pad of his thumb. Her eyes close—a sign that his presence is comforting—and she buries her face in the crook of his neck as she so often did in difficult times. The hand that once cupped her face finds a new home atop her back, rubbing soothing circles against her skin. His neck grows damp as the tears continue to fall, her silent struggle ripping his heart from his chest more than her audible sobs. He presses his lips to the crown of her head and buries his nose in her hair.

“When?” is the only word he speaks after his skin begins to dry and the sniffles increase in frequency.

She turns her head to the side, her words muffled by his skin. “Yesterday evening.”

Edward grits his teeth. He had received her frantic call in the early hours of Wednesday. Den had passed two days after he’d gotten the news; three days before he’d arrived home. The wound was still fresh, still oozing and hurting and reminding Winry of the last moments she had spent with her beloved pet. While the loss of a dog he’d considered his, as well, hurt immensely, seeing his fiancée in as much pain as she was was the worst of it all. Had he been anywhere within Amestris, the trip home would have taken a day-and-a-half at most, but he’d just had to be thousands of miles away in another country, going about his life without a care in the world. Never had he stopped to think of what might occur while he was away. He’d left Resembool believing all would remain the same upon his return; he and Winry would plan out the rest of their lives, and Den was certain to accompany them wherever they may have gone.

Den’s sudden passing strikes fear into the former alchemist. Bad things could happen at a moment’s notice, and while one could never quite prepare for such a turn in events, they could always depend on the love and support of their friends and family members.

It’s like a knife to the gut.

“I should’ve been here,” he says, shaking his head. Her hair tickles his nose. “I never should’ve left. I should’ve wrapped up the research two months ago when I came home. I should’ve been here.”

Winry pushes herself from his neck, forcing Ed to lift his head. She stares at him with blue, bloodshot eyes, and brings a hand to his face. The heel of her palm scrapes against the blonde stubble he’d acquired on the train, the sound deafening in his ears. The pad of her thumb glides against his bottom lip. “You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

He’s about to draw her back into his embrace when she closes the minuscule distance between them. He tilts his head back, prepared to tuck hers beneath his chin; he’s taken by surprise, however, when her hand slides to the back of his neck and pulls him toward her. Their lips collide. Winry’s are both moist and dry in certain areas, her ragged breaths drying out the skin, her tears wetting them at random as they fell. She tastes salty, something Edward had only tasted on her after she had munched on a bag of pretzels late at night. The taste bothers him, the saltiness serving as proof of her broken heart. He puckers his lips, kissing her back, when she deepens it, the tip of her tongue slipping into his mouth. It’s nothing alarming—Winry craved comfort, comfort from him, and if kissing helped her, then so be it.

His hands position themselves—the right at the back of her neck, the left at the small of her back. He kisses her eagerly, pouring every ounce of himself into her. He’s missed her immensely, wanting nothing more than to take her pain away. The hand at her neck grips her tight, and he hopes that she knows just how much he loves her.

The kiss, however, doesn’t end, even as his mouth breaks from hers. Her plumped, warm lips trail kisses down his neck, sucking on his pulse point. He can feel her hands fumble with the button of his pants. His heart catches in his throat, the blood in his body beginning to swell what’s within his pants. She wants sex, that much is clear, and as much as he wants it, too, it feels wrong. Winry is distraught over the loss of her dog, and Ed isn’t certain she’s thinking clearly. He grabs her wrists as she tugs down his zipper.

“Wait, stop,” he breathes. I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Stop.”

Her mouth detaches from his neck, the artificial breeze from the ceiling fan cool against his slick skin. She’s breathing heavy, giving in to the lust that has fallen atop her like a large wave. He can see it in her eyes, yet the pain associated with grief lingers within. The pull tab of his zipper remains grasped between her thumb and forefinger. He swears he can feel her tug it slightly upward. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong—” with her wrists still in his hands, he brings her hands away from his body and holds them between their bodies, her hands at eye level. ”—is this, Win. I can’t sleep with you knowing you’re in so much pain. I don’t want you throwing yourself into something you might not want to do.”

A fire burns in those bright blue eyes of hers. Her brow furrows, almost as though she’s glaring at him, and she yanks her hands away. “Yeah, I am in pain; that’s why I want to have sex with you.”

He screws his face into a look of puzzlement.

Winry rolls her eyes. “You make me feel good, dummy. Really good. I just want you to make me feel like that right now, so I can just forget about everything for a little while.”

It was easy to forget about the world when one had sex. No matter what was going on, Edward always lost himself whenever he was inside of Winry. It was as though they were the only two individuals in existence whenever they made love. Her work and his research were nonexistent during those times, leaving them free to show just how much they meant to one another. Those were some of his favorite times. Now, with it spelled out before him, he understands where she is coming from.

His gaze falls to his torso as his hands begin to unbutton his shirt. He can feel Winry’s eyes on him, watching his fingers move delicately, as not to tear the buttons from the fabric. He leaves the shirt open, exposing his chest and abdomen, and grabs her by her waist. Automatically, she throws her arms around his neck. The tips of their noses bump together, and they look at one another for a brief moment.

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

He registers a quick nod just before Winry angles her head and kisses him. Her arms move from his neck, hands trailing the width of his shoulders and pushing the fabric down his body. He rolls her onto her back and pulls his arms free of his sleeves, crumpling the red shirt and tossing it aside. He kisses her with hunger and passion, pouring every inch of his soul into each movement of his lips. He has two months worth of pent-up lust for the woman beneath him, though he is also driven by her desire to feel the immeasurable pleasure only he can bring her, rather than the pain of losing the family dog. Calloused fingers weave through the hair at his neck, unintentionally tugging as they curl into a fist. The other hand pulls the tie from his hair, allowing it to flow freely down his back. His own hands work at removing his old t-shirt from her small frame. Their kisses are briefly interrupted as Edward removes the clothing from her body. He tosses it aside and dives back in to resume what they had been doing, while Winry reaches between them to continue unzipping his pants. He’s hard beneath the constricting fabric, his bulge growing even more prominent as she pushes them down his waist, though hidden still by his boxers. He refuses to, once again, place their kissing on hold; he wedges an arm between her and the mattress, bringing her up with him as he rolls back onto his knees. With his free hand, he pushes his pants off one side at a time, and lies her back down when they reach his calves. He does his best to kick them off the rest of the way, cursing against her mouth in the process.

“Wait, wait.” Winry’s words catch him off guard, though he struggles to form coherent thoughts in his haze. It isn’t until he feels her push his pants the rest of the way with her feet that he understands the need for the brief pause. Once they’re off of him completely, a crumpled mess at the foot of the bed, her hands find either side of his face, drawing him back in for more.

It’s easy enough to forget the loss she has suffered, the loss he has suffered, as they grope and nip at one another. Edward’s every sense is enveloped by her—he feels every inch of her body beneath him; the smoothness of her skin beneath his palms, the moisture of her lips against his, the slick heat dampening her underwear as his knee positions itself at her core. Her scent—sunshine, iron, grease, apples—intoxicates him. Her taste—salt, cinnamon, and something inexplicably Winry—drives him wild. He steals a glance of her bare chest as his kisses move to her neck, noting how shallow her breaths have grown, marveling at her breasts that only he was allowed to see. Her whimpers and high-pitched moans are like music to his ears as his right hand palms her breast, his thumb toying with her nipple.

She writhes beneath him, writhes against his knee, and claws at his sculpted back. “Ed,” she whimpers, “Ed, please.”

It’s impossible for him to abandon his assault against her skin. He trails kisses down her neck and toward her chest, dipping his tongue in the groove of her collarbone. He’s free to do as he pleases here, free to mark her skin in the heat of passion. His hand, however, abandons her breast and disappears between her legs, fingers working their way between her folds and rubbing circles where she needed it most through the damp fabric of her underwear. A quick gasp escapes her, and her nails dig into his skin.

“Ah—!” her head falls back against the pillow. Her nails scrape along his skin, and he relishes in the sensation, proud that he is capable of bringing her to such heights. His hand disappears into her underwear, fingers vanishing amidst coarse curls. She gasps in the middle of a whimper, having grown upset by the loss of contact, as he drags his fingertip from her bundle of nerves to her opening. He slides it in easily enough. She breathes out his name.

His mouth detaches from her skin, his head pulling away to look at her. Her skin, from her face to her chest, is flush. Three marks have been left behind on her chest; one beneath the dip in her collarbone, one on the inside of her right breast, another between both. Her head is tossed to the side, leaving but the left side of her face exposed. Her eyes are shut tightly, her lips parted and her jaw clenched. Sweat beads upon her skin, and Edward can taste it when he leans down to kiss her cheek. He presses his forehead to her temple and quickens the pace of his fingers as her walls begin to clench around him.

He’s lost in his rhythm and the moans that fill the air. His erection has reached its peak; it throbs painfully in his boxers, yearning to be buried within the woman he loves. But he isn’t here for himself. He’s here to please his fiancée, to get her mind off of things, to make her feel amazing in a way that only he can do. It comes as a surprise, however, when a hand gropes him through the loose fabric.

A strangled whimper escapes him. His hand comes to a sudden halt, his fingers still inside of her, and he breathes raggedly against her skin. His golden eyes are half-lidded, mind struggling to make sense of it all while his lower half cries out for movement. He gives an involuntary buck of his hips. The friction created by the fabric of his boxers hurts, but the reassuring squeeze Winry offers sends a chill down his spine.

She turns her head and meets his gaze. He can feel the quick rise and fall of her chest, hear the shallow breaths she takes. There’s a pleading look to those blue eyes of hers. “I need you, Ed.”

The majority of his brain has been shut off, the momentary pleasure she has given him short-circuiting his thought process. He isn’t sure what she means. She has him, part of him, inside of her, fingers curled to stimulate a spot he’d memorized long ago when he’d first happened upon it. She’d been close, and he could bring her there, if only she would let him finish…

There’s cool air at his back, burning the scratches she had made. Her other hand has left him to join her right, gripping the waistband of his underwear and tugging them down his hips. She takes him in her hand once more and begins to stroke him.

The sound he makes would have embarrassed him two years ago when they’d begun their sexual relationship. But Winry had heard every sound he could make; there was no longer embarrassment, only an overwhelming sense of gratification that she was capable of making him feel such ways. He grits his teeth and growls deep in his throat, the hand he’s using to hold him upright gripping the sheets.

“Ed…” There’s his name, again, this time in a much more commanding tone. “Please…”

What remains of his working mind is lost in an overwhelming fog of lust. He removes his fingers and wipes them carelessly on the sheets. A fire ignites in his eyes, darkening his golden irises. His fingers curl around the slim waistband of her underwear and he tugs them down her hips. He tosses them aside, and Winry’s legs lock around his waist, pulling him to her. He’s pressed to her core, twitching in anticipation, when her lips crash against his. Her lips move at a feverish pace, and Edward struggles to keep up. Their teeth clack against each other, and their tongues meet at awkward angles. There is a point at which she takes his bottom lip between her teeth and gently tugs, sending him into a frenzy. She’s grown impatient, hips bucking upward, begging for him to take charge. He grips the sheets at either side of her head; a primal urge takes control, and she assists in guiding him as he enters her.

It is an entirely different state of being when he is inside of her. They move as one, instinctively matching the rhythm set by the one taking charge. Their ragged breaths mingle with the sounds of skin-upon-skin, and it isn’t long before Winry’s pleasured cries start to ring out.

“Ed… Haa…” She gropes at his arms, hands sliding down to his wrists. She pauses to throw her head back and moan as he buries himself inside of her. Her fingers wedge themselves beneath the edges of his palms, and she grunts through her teeth, “Hands… Gimme… your hands…”

His knuckles, white from the strength of his grip, begin to pinken as he lets go of the sheets. He slips his hands into hers, threading their fingers together, and holds them tight. It’s a simple gesture that makes their love-making that much more intimate. Edward continues to bury himself deep inside of her, his rhythm never once lost. He leans down to press his lips against the tip of her nose, and rests his forehead atop hers. He shuts his eyes and basks in all that is her. The smell of sex lingers in the air, the sound of her moans fill his ears, and an overwhelming sense of pleasure courses through his body. He begins to groan as he inches closer and closer to his climax; his pace begins to quicken, a warmth settles in his stomach, and an electric current spreads throughout him like fire. Her walls grip at his length, her moans growing louder and more frequent. He needed only to hold on just a little longer…

He’s midway through a thrust when his name rings out like a mantra from her lips. Her nails dig painfully into the backs of his hands, her thighs squeeze his waist with crushing strength, and she closes around him repeatedly. Her body shakes beneath him, hips bucking frantically as her body seeks to prolong her orgasm. It all becomes too much for him—he grows rigid as he finishes, her name on his lips as he cries out in pleasure. “W-Winry…!”

The last of his thrusts are shallow and lack rhythm. His limbs grow heavy, his arms shaking, barely capable of keeping him upright. He collapses atop her, his face buried in a mess of her hair, struggling to catch his breath. There’s a deafening ringing in his ears and a blinding light behind his eyelids. His body is unbearably warm and tingly, the part of him still inside of her throbbing and becoming overly sensitive. One involuntary flex of her muscles, and he would be done for, seeing stars and incapable of silence.

Time passes. At some point, Winry had untangled their hands from one another and begun rubbing his back. Her fingertips ghost across his skin, tracing the scar left behind by his automail port, and that at his lower back that had nearly claimed his life. He feels himself slipping into unconsciousness—the stress, worry, and lack of adequate sleep on the train, combined with the exhaustion following sex, weighs him down. He can’t succumb to sleep, however. Not this time, at least. He needs to know that he did what was asked of him, he needs to know that she’s okay.

He reluctantly pulls out and collapses beside him, on his back. He throws his left hand atop his belly and splays his fingers, taking a mental note that he’ll have to fetch her something to clean up with in a moment. With his other arm, he wraps it around her body and pulls her to his side. She responds by lying her head against his chest, her hand quick to follow. His fingertips explore the length of her spine.

Her chin digs into his collarbone, though he isn’t bothered. That lazy smile of hers is far too cute to even give the discomfort a second thought. “Hey,” she utters.

“Hey,” he says back, voice hoarse, a crooked smile on his face. He waggles his brow as they stare at one another. He licks his lips and closes his eyes, again, offering her a quick peck. She giggles.

It’s like music to his ears. She had laughed so much after he and Alphonse had returned home. It became his personal goal to make her laugh whenever possible—seeing her smile, hearing her joy… it never failed to make him fall for her all over again. And now, after shedding tears night and day, he’d gotten her laughing, and with something so simple. His heart soars.

“I love you,” she presses her lips to the corner of his mouth. “I love you.” Again, to his chin. “I love you.” And again, to the hollow of his throat. “I love you.” And one last time, to the center of his chest where his heart lies. “So much.”

He wraps his other arm around her and crushes her to his chest. She giggles again, and he swears he could walk on water at that moment. “I love you, too.”

He watches her fight the heaviness of her eyelids. She had been through so much in such a short amount of time—she deserved rest, and as much as he would like to join her, he opts to observe her, instead. Winry loses the battle against herself and closes her eyes; Ed hopes that the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest aids in lulling her to sleep.

Yet, not even a moment later, she smiles and traces circles against his skin. “Thank you.”

Thank you? Thank yous weren’t typically exchanged after sex; at least, not in their relationship. He stares at her, brow furrowing in his confusion, and it hits him like a ton of bricks. She’s thanking him not for pleasing her, but for bringing her comfort when she’d needed it most.

He shakes his head. “You don’t need to thank me, Winry.”

“Yes, I do,” she insists. “I didn’t ask you to come all the way out here for me, but you did it, anyway.”

“Well, yeah, that’s because I love you, and you were hurting.” He grits his teeth, the sounds of her sobs on the phone playing in his mind. “I wasn’t here when it mattered most.”

A comfortable silence settles within the bedroom. The invisible patterns she traces along the planes of his chest continue. Edward lets his head fall to the right, his gaze landing on the burgundy collar he’d set atop her bedside table. Gone are the days of Den’s loud barks waking him up in the early hours of the day. No longer would he or his brother have to anticipate being knocked to the ground by the old dog upon their return home. The metal tag on his collar would no longer jingle through the house with every step he took. He would no longer find the dog’s head in his lap, begging for food at the dinner table, nor would he find him jumping on the sofa, lying atop him like a lap dog.

His attention returns to the woman on his chest, at peace in his presence, if only momentarily. His chest tightens as the guilt settles in. He closes his eyes.

“I think…” His lips purse, and his fingers comb through her hair. “I think I’m done traveling.”

Winry swats at his chest. “No you aren’t. Stop being stupid.”

“Win, I’m being serious!”

She pushes herself up to scowl at him. “Traveling is your thing, Ed.”

“Not anymore,” he shakes his head. What should be a joyous moment is shadowed by grief. He frowns and twirls her hair around his index finger. “When I was in Creta, I kept thinking, ‘what if something bad happens and I’m not there?’”

“Edward…”

“I kept pushing that thought to the back of my mind because I was so sure nothing else could hit us. But then you called me about Den and…” He pauses, chewing at the inside of his cheek. He drops his gaze. “You crying over the phone killed me. I hadn’t heard you cry like that since…” He trails off again, his left hand gripping tightly at her hip. He sucks in a breath before continuing. “I need to be here for things like this, Win. I can’t handle the ‘what if’s’ when I’m gone.”

Winry swallows. He can feel her eyes upon him. “…What about Al? What about your research?”

“I can research from home. I’ve bought enough books while I was out there, and Al can always send me what he comes across.” He peeks at her through his lashes, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Besides, do you really think Al would be against me being home with you?”

His smile is contagious, spreading to her own face. She flashes her teeth at him. “No,” she presses a chaste kiss to his lips, “he’ll probably celebrate.”

“I think we can get a headstart on our own celebration, don’t you?” He rolls Winry back onto her back, pinning her against the mattress. She bursts into a fit of giggles as his hands roam her sides and his lips explore her body.

#edward elric #winry rockbell #edwin #edward/winry #edward x winry #fma #my fics #joey tribiani voice: IM BACK BABY

18 notes · View notes