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scarletwritesshit · 19 days

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⛪ Sunday x Reader ⛪God Before an Aeon

Mistakes happen every day. It’s part of being a human.

Not every misjudgment is dire enough to be dubbed a sin. A benign mishap such as forgetfulness or a slightly less favorable decision is not enough to warrant the wrath of God.

Despite this, every day you returned to confess your wrongdoings. With every visit, you hoped that a certain someone would be there to relay your apologies to those above. As you waited in line, you listened closely to those in front of you, not with the intention of eavesdropping, but rather, if you could tell if he was there. If it wasn’t his voice that you heard, then you could care less. If, however, it was him, then whatever little slip-ups you made that day were going to become his problem.

That alone was a sin worth confessing. Regardless, you kept up this act, for you hoped for so much as a glimmer of hope of seeing him face to face.

The tiredness in his voice every time he spoke to you was obvious. Every confession concluded with the same general exchange to quickly send you off.

"Do you swear to Xipe to change your ways for the better?"

"On my life."

"Very well. Append for your sins and be on your way now."

The precious time of his that you have wasted, when it could’ve been dedicated to granting forgiveness to those who desperately needed it, accumulated over time. Five minutes spent with you could’ve been five minutes less his day had to drag out relaying forgiveness to the Harmony.

You could tell that he recognized your voice. He must be speaking between a clenched jaw every time he listened to your pointless confession. However, he couldn’t deny you this service. It would be rather improper of him to do so, especially in front of so many onlookers awaiting their turn. God forbid others get the wrong impression that their sin is far too grave to be confessed, otherwise, his dearly valued guests would be living in fear of the Harmony, rather than embracing THEIR forgiveness.

He just needed one day where you were his sole client so that he had the opportunity to tell you to utilize his time wisely. That way, he could use any means necessary to rid himself of you, should it come down to such a thing. Even if it did take him a little bit of forceful intervention.

A slow day of confessions was precisely what you were seeking as well. With no one in the vicinity to catch wind of your words, you would finally be able to confess your ultimate sin to him. A sin arguably greater than the combination of everything confessed to him thus far.

During a rather quiet system hour, no one could be seen awaiting their turn for a confession. The coast appeared clear, but one problem remained; you couldn’t tell if he was in there ahead of time, as there was no one around for him to speak to.

If it wasn’t him after all, you could make up something convincing enough to count as a sin, so that whoever was present wouldn’t be the one to dismiss you. The moment you hear that glorious angelic voice, however, that is when you would know to no longer hold back.

You walked up to the confession booth, still keeping your eyes for any last second interlopers. Before you could open your mouth, a voice from the other side of the booth spoke to you.

"Let’s get this over with. What is it now?" he said.

It was most certainly him.

"Sunday," you said, leaning in closer, "I have made…a mistake. A mistake far graver than any prior ‘blunder’ of mine."

In an instant, a pair of glowing yellow eyes turned to face toward you from inside the booth. They were wide open with fury, and his pupils narrowed with intense focus. The speed in which he turned around to glare at you caused you to flinch, but the window still served as a safeguard between you and him. The inside of the booth remained dark, at least from your perspective, so you couldn’t get a good look at Sunday’s face. The glow from his eyes dimly lit up his face, just enough to make it evident that he was not in the most pleasant mood.

"Speak," he said, with a hint of a growl to his voice.

"I have come seeking forgiveness not from Xipe, but from you, personally.”

"From me?"

"Indeed, as I have been misguided by my own selfish desires, and so a multitude of small mishaps have converged into a far greater sin of mine.”

"On with it. Make your time here actually worth something for once."

You leaned in closer to whisper.

"This sin of mine is perhaps one of the deadliest, but I have a feeling you are no stranger to such things, yes? I desire you, Sunday, above all else.”

All of that wasted time, minutes that accumulated into hours, hours that accumulated into days, just for a chance to have him within reach? Sunday thought that in his time overseeing such matters that by now, he would’ve heard it all. Adultery, polyamory, uncontrollable lust, the list goes on, but never had he encountered someone bold enough to confess a sin directly involving him in such way.

And it just had to be from one of his most irritating clients. Thankfully, no one would be around to see him finally taking steps eradicate this thorn in his side.

Sunday ripped down the only line of defense between you two, the light from outside now fully illuminating the beast-like expression on his face. He had an inhuman sense of insanity about him, a demeanor far different than the normally calm Halovian that had become one of the most beloved icons of Penacony. There was pure frustration, no, fury in his eyes, and his jaw was clenched which such might that you thought that he could snap a tooth at any moment. Before you could even begin to move out of the way, Sunday lounged forward and grabbed your shirt by the collar, pulling you halfway into the confessional booth. It was dimly lit, though you could still see the glow of his rabid eyes and the snarl on his face.

"I believe you have gravely misinterpreted the type of confessions that are to be made to the Aeon of Harmony.”

"I have? Didn’t I confess my greatest sin to you just now?”

"This isn’t a sin. It’s a bloody hookup! Belittling the meaning of the word under the Harmony!" Sunday said, pulling you up closer.

"And this is how you treat those honorable enough to come forward. A pity," you said, smirking at him.

"This is how I treat the filth that tarnish what Xipe stands for!" he said, his grip on you tightening.

"Oh, so anyone with a tinge of sin are filth in your eyes? All of your beloved people whole walk Penacony are no better than discarded trash, one way or another? And here I was thinking that an angel like you would know better."

Sunday was very quickly being driven to his wit’s end. After all, with his mask thrown away long ago, he had no reason to hold back, meaning he could escalate things quickly if he so desired.

And escalate he desired, as that meant dealing with you swiftly.

He pushed you back so that for a brief moment, you regained your footing outside of the booth, but he quickly yanked your collar down so that your head was on the surface where the bars once stood between you. With his other hand, he pinned your back down, so that you were left with no easy means of escape.

"If you don’t straighten up right this instant, I’ll show you want a real sin looks like," he snarled.

"That makes you no better than the rest of them. You’re expecting your Aeon to be so forgiving of THEIR own messenger, when he has a clouded perception of what is right and what is wrong?"

Sunday took a deep breath, as if he was attempting compose himself, but his frustration still clearly remained. Much to your surprise, he completely let go of you. He stood tall and adjusted his jacket.

"...It would be inappropriate of me to stain such a sacred place with blood," he huffed.

Sunday gestured for you to stand up.

"Run along now," he said, swatting his hand at you. "I let you off easy this time, but if you know what’s best for you, perhaps you would save the confessing for something more...prominent in the eyes of the Xipe?"

He saw you off with a cheerful smile. Almost too cheerful, for what he had done, or almost done, to you just moments prior.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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neo-lucien · 1 year

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I’d Rather Die

In.

Pause.

Out.

Pause.

Repeat.

The actions themselves were second nature themselves, yet the gentle directing words were the actual anxiety relievers. It was quiet out, the world had never felt so still before, almost seeming as though it had completely stopped moving itself. Even as I stood outside the Boar Hat, there wasn’t the slightest gust of wind, nor the chirping of crickets to prove that the world was still itself. After all that had happened, I’d have thought that the kingdom would be full of more life than this; it would be bustling with excitement and optimism, with opportunities and hope, yet it was quite the opposite. It was as though the Sins had never saved the kingdom from a demonic disaster, as though threat still loomed over the horizon.

It had felt like that for a while, long before we had even begun the expedition looking for the rest of the sins, subsequently leading to where we are now. It would be stupid of me to think the deeply rooted anxiety would just disappear after one day, yet still, it seemed…misplaced. The fear did not belong to the idea of another Holy War breaking out across the land, but rather in something that seemed so minuscule in comparison. Despite that, it still weighed just as heavily on my heart, and fueled my current decision of leaving the company of the Sins and the Princess. It was never to be permanent, I had planned on leaving after ensuring Princess Elizabeth’s safe return home, but along the way the plan started to change. And again it has changed, back to its original state, though for reasons quite opposite of the reasons for it changing in the first place.

In.

Pause.

Out.

Pause.

Repeat.

I hiked my bag further up my shoulder, holding it tightly as I began to walk towards the forest path, away from the Boar Hat. My heart seemed to sink further and further with every step I took, yet I continued. There was nothing left there for me, nothing that was true, anyhow. All that remained were sweet lies and sugar coated nightmares. The physical burden that came along with the Sins were easy to bear, but the emotional toll? I hadn’t signed up for that.

I didn’t sign up to meet someone so brazen and excitable, yet who could tell exactly what I was thinking and feeling at any given moment. I didn’t sign up to have someone learn to read me as easily as a book, and unravel the secrets I resolved to keep hidden as easily as untying a shoelace. I didn’t sign up to become accustomed to a single person’s presence around me, and be lost without them there. I didn’t sign up to be so wrapped around a person’s finger that they wouldn’t have to even look my way for me to know when they wanted something. And I most certainly didn’t sign up to learn that the person I had fallen so hard for was only concerned with finding ways to bring his own beloved back to life.

I didn’t sign up to have my heart broken.

The truth had never fully come out after the fight between Ban and Meliodas, but a simple ask of Hawk had the truth in the palm of my hands. I had never felt more stupid in my life, of course he wouldn’t feel the same way, things like that only happened in fairy tales. It seemed pointless, then, to stay with the Sins. I completed my job, I got Elizabeth back home safely, now it was time to move on. I successfully managed to pack my bags during dinner time without anyone noticing, and decided to leave after everyone had fallen asleep. I’ll be long gone by the time anyone wakes up, and even further away when they realize I’m no longer there.

So gone I was, away from the warm and comforting embrace of friends, and back into the icy hands of solitude. I was used to it, I had never had much of anyone in my life, and I always traveled alone, yet after traveling with the Sins and going through all the ventures we had, it felt wrong to continue alone. The forest broke into a small clearing, a cliff evident some odd yards off from the forest line. I could see a town below in the distance, gray clouds billowing from the smoke stacks letting me know that the town was alive.

Sunshine beamed down warmly, yet the world still felt so still. I set my bag down close to the edge of the cliff, then sit myself on top of it. I hadn’t really taken a moment to rest since I left, just the occasional stop to nap for a bit, and then again back to traveling. Closing my eyes, I allow my body to relax, the tightness in my chest slowly releasing as I breathed.

In.

Pause.

Out.

Pause.

Repeat.

The mantra echoed throughout my head, soothing my frayed nerves. I was gone, the walls were back up and reinforced, the chains had never been more sturdy. I was safe back in the reclusion of myself, a place where none could hurt me. Yet even as I convinced myself that I was safe, and I was yet again alone, the thundering of footsteps headed my way were a clear indication that I was not. I tended up, reflexively reaching for my sword as I stood and turned to face the forest.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Perhaps some bandits, or wandering travelers, maybe even foragers from the town below. I most certainly, however, wasn’t expecting to see Ban’s towering figure break through the forest and stand before me. He breathed heavily, sweat forming on his forehead and chest. His outfit had changed from the last time I saw him, surprising me as he seemed to love the red leather outfit. What surprised me even more was the fact that he was somehow here before me despite being several days worth of travel away from the Boar Hat.

“How did you find me?” I asked, voice slightly wavering from shock.

“That would be thanks to my superior skills, hehe.” Another familiar voice responded.

From behind Ban emerged a large pig, and I internally groaned at Hawk’s arrival as well. Of course, he had more than likely caught my scent and led Ban right to me. I let out a sigh, somewhat relaxing as I let go of my sword and pick my bag up again.

“Well what do you want?” I question dryly, though I don’t quite wait for a response and I begin descending the mountain.

“I need a reason to come join you on a journey?” Ban replied somewhat jokingly. He started after me, easily catching up with me.

I give him a glare, not at all in the mood for his jokes. Yet he makes no effort to answer the question, just continues to stroll beside me in silence. It made me irrevocably angry to see him so peacefully walking, acting as though nothing at all had happened between us. It must be bliss for him, to be so unaware of the turmoil I had been in since his fight with Meliodas. I wanted so badly to scream at him, to tell him just what he had done to me, to tell him to leave and never come back, but all I could get out was “You should go back with the others.”

“Why?” He asked me, as though the mere notion were inconceivable to him.

“They need you, you’re one of them.”

“We completed our mission and stopped the Holy Knights. There’s no more need for us to stick together.”

“Then why are you here? What need do you have that requires you to be here?”

“Again, do I need one?”

“Yes. I left for a reason, but it means nothing if you follow me anyways.”

He didn’t exactly flinch, but I could see the slight recoil in his eyes. Part of me felt bad, I never intended to hurt him, but in the moment, I just wanted him to leave me alone. We both stopped walking, not even close to the base of the cliff, instead teetering rather close to the edge.

“You got something against us or something?” He asks nonchalantly, though I can hear the defensive undertones.

“My job was to return Elizabeth home safely. I did that, there’s no other reason for me to stay anymore.” I reply. Again, I could sense the recoil.

“If that’s the case, why are you so upset that I came to join you? If there’s something bothering you then just say it.”

“I’m fine, Ban, just go ba-“

“Bullshit. If you were fine you wouldn’t be acting like this.”

“What’s it to you how I’m acting, huh? Since when did you care?”

“You’re my friend and comrade, why wouldn’t I?”

Friend. Of course, I’m just a friend. Nothing would ever change that. I was tired, my heart hurt, I just wanted to be alone. Being alone would be better than this.

“Don’t you have a fairy to go revive? Why don’t you go find ways to bring her back and leave me alone for once.” I tell him. There was no life to my voice, just flat tones and exhaustion.

That was when he finally flinched, as though I had hit him across his face. There was pain etched across his face, and both remorse and understanding in his eyes.

“This is about Elaine?” He slowly asked.

I shook my head, almost in disbelief. He was so close yet so far. “Not exactly, Ban.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s you yourself.” I finally say. “You took the time and effort to get to know me and understand me. You wormed your way into my life, and not only made me feel like I belonged, but that I actually mattered to someone. You protected me even though I didn’t need it, you comforted me when I had no one else to. For once, I didn’t feel alone anymore…and I was going to stay for you. I was going to travel and fight with the Sins because I wanted to be there with you. But what’s the point if the whole time you were only looking to bring back the girl that you actually love.”

I hadn’t even realized I was crying until at least a breath of wind flew across the way, and I could feel the chill of the tears on my cheeks. Ban stood silent for a while, and I just dryly chuckled, wiping the tears off of my face.

“But it’s just my dumb mistake, falling for someone whose heart is already taken, right?” I rhetorically ask.

I hike my bag again up my shoulder, and began to set off again. I said some of what had been plaguing my mind, but still my heart felt just as heavy as though it were an incurable disease.

“You’re still planning on leaving after that?” The audacity is what stopped me again.

“Why should I stay, Ban?

Silence again.

“I need you.”

I didn’t think I heard it at first, it was so quiet, but I turned around anyways.

“You need me?” I ask.

“Too hard to believe for you?”

“You’re planning on reviving your ex, Ban, excuse me for needing a little more than that to believe you.”

“Yes, sweets, I need you.”

That stupid pet name. He began calling me that not long after we met, he claimed me to be sweet as sugar despite having watched me wipe out several Holy Knights alone without breaking a sweat. It was dumb, it was untrue, yet it brought a small sense of comfort when he used it.

“Do you really need me? Or do you just need someone to fill the void until you can get Elaine back?” It sounded harsh when I said it, only half intending it to sound that way.

“I want you to be my last, sweets. I loved Elaine, but I can learn to live without her. I can’t learn to live without you, too. I’d rather die than be separated from you.”

There was a sincerity from him I hadn’t expected, at least not in these circumstances. Was it really that easy? He fought Meliodas, his best friend, because he thought by killing him he could bring Elaine back. Could his feelings really change that quickly just because I left? As if he could sense my hesitation, Ban stepped closer to me, and gingerly cupped my face in his hands.

“She showed me that love was possible for me, but even more than love, you make me feel alive. You make being immortal worth it, like I can bear eternity as long as I have you. I….just don’t leave me. I need you….I really do.” He says softly.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give this a chance. Give us a chance.

“Okay.” I whisper, yet he was close enough to hear it clearly.

He smiled down at me, a look so tender and gentle I couldn’t help but lean more into him, legs beginning to weaken. Ban chuckled at me, and leaned down to place a kiss on my forehead. I smile softly at the touch, and I could feel my cheeks grow red. He tilt my face upwards more, kisses me again on my right cheek, and again my left. I giggle when he plants a kiss on my nose, and playfully bites the tip of my nose. Just when I think he’s finally going to indulge me and kiss me on the lips, he goes further down, and places a kiss on my chin.

“Really?” I ask, laughter in my voice.

He only grins at me, a silly smile that has me melting in laughter. He laughs alongside me, his hands dropping to hold my gently around my waist. And then, without warning, he dips his head down again to kiss me on the lips. I didn’t move at first, partially shocked, but soon leaned into the touch, allowing myself to relax and be guided by him. His kiss was both gentle yet so passionate, as though he were trying to convey entire stories to me through a single touch.

The aching in my chest slowly unraveled in his hold, replacing the pain and fear with only love and compassion. It felt so unreal, to be so wrapped in someone’s love and embrace. I didn’t ever want to stop, nor let go of this moment. In his own words, I’d rather die than let this go again.

#ban x reader #ban x reader if you look close enough #ban #seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #fluff #angst if you squint #don’t read into this or it gets bad #brainrot

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five-miles-over · 2 years

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I've Decided, I Will Not Let Your Shadow Separate From Me

Pairing: Yandere!Coriolanus x Reader

Author's Note: This is somewhat of an AU based on the original play (since Shakespeare's ending is quite tragic). In this fic, Caius Martius Coriolanus actually wins the election for Consul, leader of the Roman Senate, instead of losing and being banished from the city.

Thank you to the anon who requested this, I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: After being elected the consul, Coriolanus receives many things - sleepless nights, pointless riots from the lower-class citizens, and you, his new personal slave. While the sleep deprivation and the noise from the plebeians annoy him to no end, he finds himself obsessed with you.

Warnings: obsessive behavior, implied non-con

Caius Martius rubbed his eyes, his elbow perched against the wooden desk. The longer he looked at the document, the more the letters upon the parchment began to smudge into meaningless blobs of ink. None of it made sense to him to begin with, the senate's ideas about opening the granaries to the plebeians. They wanted to let those cretins take resources of the city into their own filthy hands, and for what? Because they cried like infants and claimed they were starving? They did not deserve such privilege to go and march, but rather they should have been grateful for their lot. Take it up with the gods themselves, if they have such a problem.

He had never wanted to be in politics. If it were up to him, Caius would simply lead another campaign, perhaps one that would kill even more barbarians than the one that earned him the title of Coriolanus. But his dear mother coaxed him into running for the Consul. He saw the gleam in her eyes when she narrated tales of how all of Rome would be at his feet were he to be elected, how he could have unlimited power. Out of the devotion that he once bore towards her, Caius honored her wish. and after quelling two stupid riots from Brutus, he finally won.

The memory slowly returned to him as he slowly felt his eyelids grow heavy. When the results were announced, his mother expressed so much emotion that she embraced Caius over and over again, ordered for a banquet, and even bought him a new slave to aid him in his duties. And that was how you entered Caius's life. You were made his personal slave to accompany him to meetings, collect things on his behalf, and keep his study clean, to name a few of your duties.

"Dominus (master)?"

Caius's eyes flew open. You placed a cup of water before him, with one hand gently perched upon his forearm. Once he was fully awake, you quickly removed your touch and went to light a candle in another part of the room. Caius could only gape as the small flame illuminated the room, allowing him to finally see all of you. Wearing a sleeveless red and orange stola, you delicately placed the candle far away from any parchment.

"You were falling asleep at your desk, my lord. Shall I bring some food for you?" You politely asked, turning to him.

"No."

"Wine, dominus?"

"It won't help."

With a quiet nod, you went about tidying any papers or quills that were strewn about out of place. Just then, Caius's voice pierced through the air like a sword.

"Stop." He ordered. "Let me look at you."

You did as told, turning to face your master without flinching.

Caius drank in every detail of you: the way your shoulders and chest lightly rose and fell with each breath, the way your eyes barely fluttered in his presence, and the way your lips…your lips, perfectly shaped, gently pressed together. You did not appear to fear him…nothing like his wedded Virgilia, who insisted upon weeping profusely whenever he came to her. He had thought that entering politics would assuage her fear for his mortality, but to no avail. Over time, Caius began to detest hearing Virgilia's sobs, as did his mother, and strangely found comfort in the fact that his work often kept him away from her.

And as another blessing, you were given to him as a result of his entry into politics. You, who did not tremble before him, bearing the calm strength of a swan. You stayed awake to keep him company, while Virgilia never stayed for long in his presence. You silently stood without trepidation, while Virgilia wailed as if she were already a widow. Caius curled his fingers, his breath ragged. You were better than her, more devoted. You were the one he needed close now…perhaps you would be a better Roman wife than Virgilia, though Caius knew he was getting ahead of himself. Still, Caius knew he wanted you more than he wanted any other woman in his life. He needed to touch you, to feel you, to…

"Go."

Without a word, you bowed and retreated. You untied your hair and took a deep breath. It had truly been a long day, and now you would finally get some much-deserved sleep. But just as you mustered a yawn, you were startled by a bright candle held close to your face. When you turned around, your eyes widened at the sight of your master, Caius Martius Coriolanus, holding the burning candle close to your chest. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, though you knew it was too late to scream.

Your eyes darted about the study, and you swiftly backed away…only for Caius to grab your wrist. You looked up and forced yourself to see the dark, mad glint in his tired eyes.

"You belong to me, remember that." Caius menacingly reached for your hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed the back of your knuckles, yet something about this seemingly courteous gesture felt…horrifying. "I will not hurt you," Caius whispered. "I need you."

"You need sleep, dominus."

Caius threw the candle onto the floor, causing the flame to disappear with a hiss.

"I don't like to play games, my lady," he gritted through his teeth. "I will have you, one way or another, and I will claim you as mine. I swear it by the gods."

#coriolanus #coriolanus play #coriolanus x reader #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere coriolanus #tom hiddleston characters #tw: yandere #tw: noncon

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thesmokingguns · 2 years

Text

Soulmate Search Chapter 10 Final chapter

Maddie POV

The ring on my finger felt heavy, like an anchor weighing me down. I’d hold it up, watching the way the moon reflected in the stone, beautiful but for some reason it felt ugly.

Izzy had tried to get me to shower, but I had feigned sleep. After we had gotten married we had spent hours in bed, making love with such furious need. I half expected to break in half as Izzy took me. Kissing me and repeating the word ‘mine’ over and over again.

He was terrified of losing me. But I had lost him once before and knew what it was like to have to deal with that pain. Where he had this hope of finding me once again.

We were so different.

The water shut off and I wiped at my eyes, half aware I had started crying. Laying down l, I pulled the blankets over me. I knew that I needed to get a grip on things. I needed to calm myself down and just to not freak out about everything.

Jeffrey was my soulmate and that meant we were going to be together forever.

Laying my hand over the tattoo on my chest, I let my finger starve over the shape of his name. Gripped with fear, I wondered if a name had ever vanished before. Without a death or a rose to replace it, could I just lose his love? Or could he lose mine?

The bathroom door opened, his soft steps as he tried to be quiet as he got into bed with me. Reaching out and holding me, his fingers touching the ring, playing with it on my finger, I could feel the smile that was on his lips. The blind optimism and just belief in soulmates.

Why couldn’t I just have the faith that he had?

Izzy POV

Maddie was awake as I laid in bed with her, feeling the way she breathed in my arms with that uneven sound. She had been crying, I could tell without touching the wetness on her face. When we had made love earlier she had been unsure, her orgasm kept getting right there before going away. Usually she’d cum over and over again but pulling one bit of pleasure from her had been work.

My darling girl was scared.

She didn’t want me to know it, wanted to put a Brave face on and forge ahead. Big we were past that. I needed to see her insecurities and make them mine. To help her grow from them.

Soulmates worked together to make everything better and if we weren’t doing that what were we doing?

The way she stood at our wedding, she had winced when the ring slid on her finger. I had foolishly thought it was tight or maybe it was pinching her but…

I hadn’t given her the chance to mourn the loss of her first marriage to that scoundrel predator before sliding a ring in her finger and having her commit to another.

How could I have overlooked something this big?

Gulping, I looked down at Maddie, her eyes softly closed now and breathing more normal. She had actually fallen asleep.

That meant I had until tomorrow morning to come up with a plan to fix this all for my wife.

Maddie POV

Waking up the first thing I thought about was how we were finally going to leave this godforsaken place. There was nowhere in the world that I hated as much as New York. To escape this bleak city and be among the palm trees and sunny skies of California was making a smile slide into my face.

Maybe when we got out of New York I’d be happy. I’d be able to handle the whole idea of my life now being so entwined with Jeffrey’s. I could embrace ig and be a rockstar wife.

Jeffrey.

I sat up, looking around the hotel room. He had packed our bags and left them next to the couch except for a pair of jeans and too for me to wear home.

Home.

Where was home now?

It seemed pointless to keep our two apartments. Would we pick one or move again? It was getting tiresome to move from one place to another and I wanted to settle down. Have roots somewhere so maybe I could grow. Maybe we could-

“You’re smiling.” My eyes turned and I saw him, two mugs of coffee in his hand as he walked towards the bed, “I love when you smile, my darling. Did you have a good dream?”

His lips pressed against mine as he handed over my coffee. Sitting down by my feet as he waited for me to have my first sip.

“I was thinking of going home and what home meant.” He nodded, waiting for me to continue with this thought, “I have some money saved up and maybe we could look at a house.” As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to clean them up, over explain and worry, “I know it’s a big step and there’s a lot of pressure with buying a home. We just both pay rent and it seems like a good investment. And we could have roots and a place we could start-“

He was kissing me again, letting me lean into him and get lose in the way his tongue tasted like the first cigarette of the morning and that cinnamon gum he chewed that felt like torture whenever I had a piece.

It was easy to set down my mug and crawl into his lap, letting him hold me against him.

“If getting a house makes you this happy, my beloved, I’ll buy a whole town.” I was happy and hearing Jeffrey’s words made me freeze and think.

I was so worried about this commitment with marriage but was it just the word that scared me more than the action? I wanted to build my life with him. I craved his presence constantly. Buying a home together was more involved than just sliding on a couple rings.

“I’ve been overthinking everything.” I admitted it, watching him turn his head, waiting for an explanation, “I think…I know l, that I worry about you leaving.” It was such a real fear that speaking of aloud made me feel like it was going to happen.

Izzy’s eyes narrowed, he shook his head as he took my head into his hands, kissing me solidly and making me very aware that he was here.

“My beloved, it was and will always be just you. In this lifetime and the next our souls are too wound together to ever depart.”

And the way he looked at me when he spoke, I knew it was true. That it would be us, forever. I was safe in his love and now I just needed to give myself permission to accept it.

Izzy POV

Madison gave me a look from across the room. The realtor had told us we could look around some more in what seemed like the hundredth home we were touring.

This was the one.

Taking her in my arms she kissed me, her excitement so strong as I pressed her into what would be our master bedroom.

“I want it.” She was begging me to agree but how could I say no when she was wrong our whole life through her beautiful eyes.

“Then you shall have it, my beloved.” I lifted her up, her legs wrapping around me as we kissed, ready to make love like that would claim the place that we were in.

A knock on the door had us freezing, her cheeks pink as she buried her head in my neck and I thought about how I should out her down and not keep holding her but I wasn’t ready yet.

“Mr. And Mrs. Isbell? The homeowners are returning and if you’re interested in making an offer they’d love to meet you.” The realtor's voice was soft like she knew what we were about to do.

She looked at me and I knew we had to go down to meet the couple.

“We’ll be right there.” I could sense the hesitation before we heard the womens heels as she walked away. “Do you have every room planned already?” I teased her as I set her down, opening the door as she grabbed my hand.

“Obviously that was our room.” I smiled, nodding at her. And that room right off the kitchen, that will be my art studio. Your music room can be in the basement, we can refurbish it for you.” She was so sure about it, this look on her face as she absolutely glowed, walking towards the stairs.

“My beloved, there’s still two bedrooms up here you haven’t claimed.” I teased. She turned to me, taking a step closer as she grabbed my hand, laying it on her stomach.

“I think someone already is claiming one of those rooms.” My heart was beating so fast, mouth dry as I looked at her.

We had been married for six months, could we really have?

“A baby?”

“A baby, Jeffrey.” She was sure, confident as her fingers went over mine and held them over her flat stomach. “Our baby.”

And suddenly I needed this house more than ever because our future was here and we couldn’t wait around any longer to live it.

#izzy stradlin guns n roses #Izzy Stradlin fanfic #Izzy Stradlin fan fic

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theglamour-theterror · 28 days

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today: 3 attempts to write porn and pull horny out of sad and failed all three

(1)

As Alex leans back and slides his hand down Haymitch’s thighs, he feels the force of those hands curling in on his shoulder blade, holding tightly, urging him. Alex eases himself into Haymitch. The gratification is instant- he is already wet, already willing, and when he lets the soft gasps overflow his stomach, a warm breeze rising up his chest and out, Haymitch locks eyes with him. Alex can never get too used to those irises that are blue and gray, so bright and so sharp, glinting just as Haymitch flashes him a grin. His heart clenches at this. Haymitch catches him and rams in, softly, sweetly, in his gentleness Alex drowns.

How did he deserve this? He doesn’t deserve this. How useless it is that he fought for this. How desperate he was to be seen. To be accepted. That it made him vulnerable. His shield is his biggest weakness. He longs to be cared for, he loathed it.

Even though people accept him as a man it comes with conditions. That one can never fully be seen. That it makes his life miserable. That he lives in a shadow and he constantly has to earn the validity of his identity again and again and so he finds it horrifying, harder, still, to embrace the fear all his that is soft and scared and all feeling all hurting, the part viewed as feminine.

“Easy,” Haymitch whispers to him, even as he thrusted into Alex his movements are slow, controlled, careful- Alex can quite feel it. His voice is rough, quiet, pleading, and Alex pushes back, gripping him, crawling onto him. He's a puppet, a doll, he's State property, because he wasn't born with his gender he owes it to everything else. He wished he was either a woman or a man so badly and it wasn't supposed to change anything about it but it changed everything.

“Easy. It’s alright. I’ve got you,” and Haymitch pulls him back, he doesn’t know. Pleasure erases pain while it is supposed to hurt. But he feels good, he feels alright. Alex starts to cry.

(2)

Games follow principles. Rules and limits that force the hands, whereas its chaos harbored and birthed all lie within grasp if one looked hard enough, paid enough attention. At the back of his mind Haymitch already knew that his life is never a Game, still he pushed too far and now he pays for his arrogance with blood. Haymitch wishes he can stop himself, but the more desperate he becomes for control the further it slips away from him.

Once again.

“You’re alright.” Haymitch rasped and he touched Alexandrite Mitchell’s cheek and brushed his hair aside. They clung to his forehead, dampened with sweat and blood, the smell of rose covering poignant and present. “I’m here. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” was the other man’s response. Haymitch’s blood went cold. In everywhere he was weak, and his voice was always too soft, too inaudible. Haymitch had to lean in to hear him and he ended up pressing his forehead at his own. What a fruitless apology. Mitchell’s vain pointless words truly had no bound. Haymitch cursed, and he was about to fire back when Mitchell continued. “For thinking of you like this. For- ah-”

“What are you talking about?”

Alex only chuckled. Haymitch pulled back, the words finding themselves before he thought about them.

“Mitchell. Talk to me. What are you trying to say?”

“Mmm…never called me that before. Even Mother didn’t call me that...”

Haymitch swallowed. He tried to play along.

“It’d be impolite for me to use your first name. Your mother would call you Alex.”

“No. That wasn’t what she called me.”

“Then what did your mother call you?”

“I don’t remember. I’m sorry. It didn’t matter, anyway, my name is Alex.”

“Why did your mother call you a name that wasn’t yours?”

“Because she didn’t know.”

Haymitch noticed in an instant how Mitchell was for once willing to give up something to him. Is it a desperate attempt to stay in touch with what he already lost, or

(3)

Khăng khăng là vậy, Minh Anh chưa bao giờ làm chuyện đó với Mitchell mà lại đi nhắm mắt lại và tưởng tượng ra Clementia cả. Tiếng rên rỉ ỉ ôi của Mitchell nghe mà ớn, chẳng giống Clementia gì hết. Thế mà ả vẫn thích treo những lời đó trên đầu Mitchell như một lời đe dọa, vừa dúi mình mớm cho nó tình thương vừa nhắc nó nhớ rằng: mặc cho những gì ả làm với nó, nó vẫn chỉ là một đứa bù nhìn thay thế cho Clementia mà thôi. Rằng nó không bao giờ bì được với nàng, một nửa, một phần tư cũng không.

Nhưng đấy là xưa rồi. Ngày xửa ngày xưa khi hai đứa còn một chút chia sẻ nào đó giữa hai đứa, có lẽ ít ra ả còn có thể thấy bức bối thay cho lòng tự trọng của Mitchell. Nó giết Clementia rồi. Nàng là người duy nhất đáng sống rồi nàng lại đi chết dưới tay nó, nên giờ nó phải trả giá. Ả bảo nó thế. Ả bảo có khi ả giết nó luôn ngay được, nhưng mà thế thì dễ quá, nhỉ? Mày không muốn gặp chị mày đâu ý, eo ôi, đồ hèn.

“Rồi ai bảo mày cứ thích đi trốn chui trốn nhủi đi.” Minh Anh nói với nó, giọng lạnh băng. Ả thích đọc cái bản án không hồi kết của Mitchell và nhìn cái cách nó run rẩy. “Làm chết người ta rồi, giờ không ai cần mày nên mày kẹt với tao. Hay không? Tao là tao thấy đáng đời lắm.”

“Ừ, đáng,” Mitchell lầm rầm, mất đâu cái bản mặt trơ trơ giả tạo của nó.“Tao đáng. Mày kẹt với tao cũng vui thật, nhỉ. Xin lỗi nha.” Nhưng nó vẫn không khóc. Hình như Mitchell chẳng bao giờ khóc nữa. Minh Anh dường như chẳng ghét nó được hơn thế, ghét nó tận xương tủy.

“Ừ. Thế sao mày không chết luôn đi?”

Mitchell nằm ngửa, còn chẳng thèm nhìn Minh Anh. Mắt nó nhìn đăm đăm lên trần nhà như giấu một cái gì đó kinh hoàng, thú vị lắm. Minh Anh không gằn. Giọng ả nhạt, chán chường, mệt mỏi.

“Mày phải đợi tao giết mới chết được à? Đấy. Tao để đồ đây. Muốn làm gì thì làm đi.”

“Nếu mà tao biết gì hơn cái mạng tao thì chị tao đã vẫn ở đây…”

#it's getting incredibly difficult to tag becauae #my writing #alexandrite mitchell #oc #haymitch abernathy

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wellsayhelloaagin · 2 years

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New Life

Summary: Meet the love of your life- check. Fall in love and get married- check. Start a family together- ...

Pairing: Wanda x reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 2k

Warnings: This is fluff up until the last section, so proceed after that with caution. Mentions of vomiting, some (unrealistic) medical talk, and mentions of a terminal illness.

“Stop trying to peak, it’s not time yet.”

You send your wife a sheepish grin, knowing that she had caught you. You glance at the timer on your phone, groaning when you see that there are still three minutes left.

“Sorry,” you reply with a shrug. “I’m just impatient.”

“I know,” Wanda tells you, wrapping her arms around you in an attempt to ease your anxious mind. “But we’ve been waiting for months already, a few more minutes won’t kill you.”

You relax into her embrace, trying to calm your racing mind as the seconds drag on. You breathe in the familiar scent of peaches as you rest your head in the crook of her neck and feel a wave of comfort wash over you.

Even after all these years, something as simple as a hug from her had the ability to calm you down.

Before long, your phone starts to chime. Wanda pulls back from the hug, looking at you with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Just remember,” she reminds you with a serious look on her face, “no matter what we still have each other. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you echo, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves before you glance down.

The white plastic sits there on the counter, the single line mocking you. You feel yourself deflate and you try to hide the disappointment you can feel inside.

“Negative,” you say, your voice catching in your throat as the frustration rolls through you.

“Maybe next month?” Wanda offers hopefully and you can only nod in agreement.

Your life had become a pattern of anticipation followed by disappointment over the past few months, ever since you and your wife had decided to start a family.

Things had been so exciting at first, selecting the perfect donor and monitoring Wanda’s cycle to make sure she had the best chance of falling pregnant. When the first few tests had come back negative you hadn’t been surprised, knowing that it wasn’t something that was likely to happen straight away.

But the months kept coming and each test was showing the same results. You tried not to let it show but you were becoming more discouraged every time you saw the single line staring back at you.

You knew that Wanda was starting to worry as well. She was often seen with her head in a book or diving deep into research on her laptop, trying to find any sliver of information that could help your goal. There was a complete change to her diet and prenatal vitamins were a constant fixture on your shopping list. Wanda was determined and nothing would stand in her way.

You could sense her fear though and you knew that she was concerned that maybe she wouldn't fall pregnant despite the assurance from her doctor that she was perfectly healthy and that these things just take time.

You knew how desperate she was to carry your child into the world, so any offer for you to be the one to fall pregnant would be pointless.

So there you were, stuck in the endless cycle, every negative test a blow.

“If this one doesn’t work, we might have to explore other options.”

The sentence takes you by surprise and you look over at Wanda, her eyes trained on the road ahead of her as she sits in the passenger seat.

You were on your way to her appointment, something that had almost become a chore by this point. You could feel your hope dwindling every time you drove to the clinic and you knew that she could sense it too.

“Well let’s not decide anything until we get the results for this one,” you return, unsure of what else to say.

Wanda doesn’t press the subject, remaining silent throughout the rest of the drive. You start to worry, the excitement that usually filled her was replaced by a quiet reserve. You hated what this was doing to your wife and to your marriage.

Maybe it was time to think of a plan B, it had been over a year after all.

You send up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that this time it all works out; if only to see the carefree smiles return to your wife’s face.

The next week passes as normal. Days filled with busy work schedules and time spent together. The strain was still there, your normal lazy Sunday feeling more forced than usual.

And then one morning, you’re awoken by Wanda rushing from the bed before the sun had even risen. You sit up in bed, unsure of what was going on, your half-asleep brain trying to make sense of things.

It’s only when you hear the sound of retching from the bathroom that you start to wake up properly, stumbling from the bedroom to find Wanda hunched over the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach.

You crouch beside her, offering her a comforting hand on her back as she continues to heave for a few more minutes. Once her stomach is finally emptied, she leans back to rest against the wall, her face flushed and brow sweaty.

You push back the hair that had stuck to her damp forehead with a frown on your face, trying to feel for her temperature.

“Must have been that burrito I ordered from that dodgy food truck last night,” she grimaces, before rising to rinse her mouth out.

“Yeah, must be,” you agree.

Except it happens again the next morning.

And the morning after that.

By the fourth day, you can see the hope returning to her eyes. Despite her constant nausea, you see the twinkle of excitement in the jade green and you can’t help the spark of joy that had settled in your heart.

“Do you think-?” she asks you from her position against the wall after yet again spending the morning hunched over the toilet.

“Only one way to find out,” you shrug.

You help her to her feet, placing some toothpaste onto her toothbrush for her as she rinses her mouth out. While she busies herself with brushing her teeth, you rummage in the drawers to find one of the many pregnancy tests you had stashed there.

You hand it to her and she takes a breath, her shoulders squaring in determination.

“Wish me luck,” she grins as you leave the room.

You pace outside the door as you wait, your phone clutched in your hand ready to start the timer.

“Okay,” you hear her say as she opens the door, her expression filled with nerves. “Start the clock.”

You lead her over to sit on the edge of the bed, the pregnancy test placed between you as you sit there with clasped hands. Neither of you say anything for the full five minutes you have to wait, the air thick with anticipation.

You jump when your phone sounds, the noise cutting through the silence of the air. You look at Wanda, bringing your joined hand to your lips and kissing the back of her hand.

“1..” she begins, her hands shaking slightly.

“2…” you continue, your heart pounding in your chest.

“3!” you finish together, both your eyes looking down at the little white stick resting on top of the covers.

Two pink lines stare back at you.

It had been a whirlwind few days and you felt like you were floating on cloud nine.

You had never seen Wanda happier, she looked like she was positively glowing. Her smiles had returned and you felt like your life was back on track again. You found yourself constantly touching her still flat stomach, marveling at the fact that there was a baby growing inside of her.

Your baby.

You were trying not to get too excited, constantly reminding yourself and your wife that it could have been a false positive. You didn’t want to bring her mood down but you also didn’t want her to get too ahead of herself, at least until you had a chance to confirm it with the doctor.

She just laughed at you, calling you a pessimist and blind before listing off half a dozen symptoms that convinced her she was right. Tiredness, nausea, heartburn, back pain. She ticked them all off on her fingers before pulling you into a kiss and telling you to stop worrying.

So there you sat, awaiting the results of the official test. They had taken some blood samples before Wanda had been taken away for an ultrasound.

You thought that was a little strange, surely they would be able to tell from the blood test alone. But they were the medical professionals so you decided not to question it too much.

You were sitting next to Wanda, your chair pulled as close to hers as possible. Your leg was bouncing in anticipation and you felt her rest her hand over your knee.

“Relax,” she tells you, leaning over to press her lips to yours briefly. “It’ll all be fine.”

The doctor chose that moment to walk in, closing the door behind her and taking a seat across from the two of you. You didn’t like the solemn expression on her face, your stomach beginning to sink as she takes a deep breath.

“Thank you for coming in today,” she begins and you try to detect a hint of happiness in her voice.

You find none.

“We took the blood test to confirm the result of your at-home pregnancy test earlier, as you’re both aware.”

“And?” Wanda cuts in and you know she can sense the unease of the room.

“There were a few anomalies,” the doctor answers and your heart stops beating for a moment.

“We wanted to be sure so we ran the ultrasound. There’s no easy way to say this, Wanda, but it appears as though you have ovarian cancer. We have to do a few more tests to be sure but it looks to be quite a late stage. It might explain why you have been having such a hard time falling pregnant and it can also explain some of the symptoms you were experiencing.”

You had never heard a room so silent as you did when the doctor stopped speaking. You were sure you had stopped breathing and maybe Wanda had too, her previous grip on your hand was now loose as the shock washed over you both.

You look over at her to find her already looking at you, nothing but fear in her eyes. You watch as they start to brim with tears and you can’t think of anything to say to make it better. You feel as though your entire world had shifted and you didn’t know how to make it right again.

“What kind of treatment options are there?” you ask when you finally find your voice, the hoarse whisper sounding nothing like your usual voice.

“We’d have to get a proper prognosis but unfortunately it looks like it has spread to your other organs. We can try radiation but it looks like our best course of action would be to make you as comfortable as possible.” The doctor hardly meets your eyes as she speaks, your grip on reality faltering as you process her words.

Tears were silently falling down Wanda’s face and you felt utterly useless. You should have taken her to be checked out sooner, instead, you had wasted over a year hoping for the best when you could have been fighting the illness inside of her.

You can see your future slipping away. The future where you and Wanda grow old together, raising a family and spending your days by each other's side.

You think back to a few hours ago when that future had seemed like a possibility. You remember the wide smile on Wanda’s face, the way her eyes shone with love for you. Now they only reflected your terror of what was to come.

You were supposed to be bringing a new life into this world and instead, she was about to lose hers.

Taglist: @olsensnpm @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @marrymemcgrath @yeetus-thyself @royalityofmultifandom @reminiscingtonight @madamevirgo @marvelwomen-simp @lucydiibi @fazebaconneggs @when-wolves-howl @lostandsearching @bentleywolf29 @peabrain112 @imasimpfornatashamaximoff @chaekhan @chelleztjs18 @vancityfire13 @xxromanoffxx @tthucydidess @dandelions4us @natslittlebunny @pixiedustandpetals @stealth-kittyy @b-5by5 @catasha @thought-of-you-and-me @abimess @justbelova @atlas-nex @avery-romanoff @majorsun7833 @eilarch @onetruwhore @peter3iscool

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda angst #wanda maximoff angst #s writes stuff

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing.

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him. One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

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duskwood-jake · 2 years

Text

The first embrace

So... I keep my word, @zoreiny :) I know, I promised this a long time ago. Sorry.

Jake x MC, as always.

It seems it's a first positive (more or less) note here.

I've been thinking about you probably since we first exchanged messages. Who are you? What do you like? How do you react in different situations? What do you look like? What do you think about... About me?

It's an incredibly strange feeling. It seems that I wasn't even so attached to Hannah in that time like I attached to you now.

Every minute my thoughts slide to you, to the image of you that has formed in my head. Sometimes you complain that you don't know anything about me. But the truth is that we are in the same conditions. I don't know anything about you except what you've told me. I've never used my skills to learn more, although you're sure otherwise.

Maybe that's why now...

Our investigation has long been completed and what I feared is happening. We couldn't communicate for a while because of my problems and when everything was finally resolved... I'm worry. I can't pull myself together and even just write to you. Two years have passed since the last message. You have your own life. You may not even remember some kind of Jake, with whom you have been talking for ten whole days for so long time ago.

I've been looking at the messenger page with your number in the search results for many minutes, but I still can't click the cherished "add". Now I have a new account and I will have to establish communication from the very beginning. My hands start shaking just thinking about it. Maybe this is just a pointless idea that should be discarded in order to save time? Maybe there's no place in your peaceful life for someone like me? I'm pretty sure, but...

You have added MC

You: Hello, MC.

You're online and you read the message almost immediately, but even this short-term expectation of a possible response does something incredible to me. The pounding of my heart is so loud that I cover my ears in an attempt not to hear - of course, a useless idea. My throat is dry and my whole body is trembling. I can't sit still.

MC: Hello. Do we know each other?

A new account, I reassure myself. It's all because of it. I want to believe it so much.

You: I...

MC: ?

How to describe it better? Saying the name is stupid, you see it, you have to choose something else. But what? A phrase? The situation? How can I remind you the best?

You: We were looking for Hannah Donfort together.

It seems to be the best way. You started typing a reply message several times, but erased everything. I can't take my eyes off the pencil in the corner of the messenger. And finally...

MC: I don't believe my eyes!

I thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore 🥺

I've been thinking about you all this time, but I couldn't write without putting you in danger.

You: It's not like that.

MC: And now?..

You: And now everything is fine :)

I'll understand if you don't want to continue our conversations. It's been a long time.

MC: I've been waiting for you, Jake ❤ And if everything is fine now... Could we meet?

I can't help but smile at your suggestion.

You: Yes. Of course :)

×_×_×

I... I can't find a place for myself again. Our meeting is only a few minutes away, although I was at the appointed place a little earlier and now I have no idea how to behave further, what to say when I see you. Except for "hello" nothing comes to mind. Strange. I worry too much. I pull the hood over my head harder.

My breath catches when I hear a quiet:

- Jake?..

- Hello, MC.

I slowly turn around, look at you, and again I don't know what to do. My body seems to be covered with a crust of ice, preventing me from even moving. I can only look at you. And you approach me cautiously, as if you too are confused and do not know what to do.

- Your eyes, - you say in a barely audible voice, - seem really familiar. But the bruises under your eyes are bigger than I imagined.

For some reason, it makes me laugh. It's you. You are the carefree person who does not get out of my head.

You come closer and suddenly rise on tiptoe, wrap both arms around me, wrapping around my neck. I feel the warmth of your body and the blood rushing to my cheeks.

- It's so nice to at least hug you for the first time.

I hear your whisper and I don't know where to put my hands. It probably will be if I do something in response. Something like that... I put my hand on the upper part of your back, stroking a little. That's what people call a "hug," right?

- Me... Also nice.

Your hands are so warm. Nice. I... just "hug" a little bit harder.

- You know, - you pull away a little, look into my eyes - from this, the whole body began to tremble again, - because now everything is happening almost as I imagined during that conversation. Only in the opposite direction.

Your laughter makes me smile too. But when your fingers - the look clings to the sharp pink nails - touch my cheek... It seems that my face is turning completely red, there is simply nowhere more. And it's so hot that I pull back the hood a little.

- It seems that the next step was "you kiss me". That's...

No, I was wrong.

- S-stop making me blush...

#duskwood #duskwood fanfic #duskwood jake x mc

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kim-monsterlings · 4 years

Text

Danon - M Hellhound x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; injury (brief, not to reader), mild aggression, mentions of death, soul bonding, fluff, receiving oral, penetrative sex (+ knotting), marking (no biting - tattoo), more fluff to top it off, with the NSFW only at the very end - (if there is anything else anyone would like tagged here that I haven't caught, let me know!)

Wordcount: 3715

Masterlist

The creature rested at your front door had been your shadow for some time now.

The raven fur thick at its scruff tinged with a crimson the nearer you came, and though you doubted its domesticity - its claws were far too long for any house pet, not to mention in place of fluffy ears were ram horns, wide and curled back to its neck - you still felt sympathy for the creature, wounded as it was.

You first saw it nearly a month ago, trailing at your shadow when the evening fell into night. If the creature had wanted to have you then, it would have. The flash of fanged teeth hadn't been so unusual, until the muzzle almost tore back, sinew and tendons sewing flesh together, up to it skull. Then you'd known it wasn't quite a dog, nor some odd breeding anomaly, and had fought to ignore the memory.

Until the creature was at your backdoor come dawn when you went to the river for water and herbs for medicine. You were no healer, not properly, but your parents had passed down knowledge you cherished and made use of. Poultices ready-made waited for collection, all the while your stalker sat by the tree line, waiting; you weren't sure what for.

To see it so defeated when it was usually full of life tugged you down to your knees. The first time you had confronted it - in a rage of foolishness, really, considering how lucky you had been to avoid any harm at its infliction, the creature had staggered back almost in shock at having stones thrown, before letting loose a growl so low your muscles locked, and you thought then you had incited your own death, as its muzzle nudged up at your fist, the creature large enough to come to your hips like a pony.

The memory was nothing now. You whispered, hoping to soothe the dog-like demon when you brushed its fur. It gave a low whine, and tail thin like a whip with an arrowed tip tucked neater to its belly. Whatever it was, was decisively male, but your focus was more on the scratches curled deep into its stomach, and the wound on its throat must have been from another creature of the same kind.

"Hey, boy," you said and offered your hand for him to sniff. The notion struck you as pointless; obviously he recognised you, laying at your door after following for so long, but the press of a hot nose was more reassurance to you than anything. "Stay still. You'll be okay, boy."

The idea of letting him inside was daunting, but you couldn't just leave him there to die. No matter why he followed you, he had come to you now for help, and you pressed onto his back carefully. When he snarled, you winced through gritted teeth.

"Come on, boy." You tucked your hands beneath his back enough to encourage him up. Your door was open. All he had to do was collapse inside. "Go on-"

With a pitiful whine, he fell heavily against your thigh as you led him in. He managed to carry himself to the fireplace before landing with a thud, and though he still breathed, you weren't surprised to find him now unconscious.

Treating a dog was different from humans but you made do with what you had, and you couldn't do anything more than that. What you noticed, even as you tried not to, was the thick stench of something foul and smoky on washing away blood, and something about it twisted at you. Like it was unnatural. There wasn't anything natural to a dog of his size, with horns and a tail like that, nor a muzzle so wide and sharp, but you had already invited him in and tended to his wounds, so you moved on.

You left a bowl of water and some old meat at his side but when you retreated to your room, sharp canines snatched your wrist. His eyes flicked up to you, a bright, burning red against his ashen body. When you conceded and sat at his side, a soft whimper enticed your fingers to his scruff, careful to avoid the horns and shallow wound.

"You're okay," you hummed, holding still when he inched close enough to lay a heavy head on your thighs. "You'll be okay, boy. You’ll be healthy again, and you won't even try to eat me, will you? No," you whispered, and spoke until his eyes fell shut.

That night you spent curled uncomfortably back against the sofa, falling in and out of a restless sleep. You woke before dawn to find the beast gone, and in his place was a man. The first, natural instinct that came to you was to scream; his head was nuzzled against your thighs, a hand curled at your hip and clutching loosely, but the familiarity struck you before the screech came.

His body was the same black of his fur, a rich, almost obsidian, but the giveaway was the tail twined to his bare legs. Even still, his mouth seemed off, a little too wide, and the short nubs at his temples, though dramatically smaller horns, were the same.

So you yawned, snatching the blanket off the sofa and laying it across his thin body, too. Waking hours later with daylight on your face, you were alone. He had rested you on the sofa with a pillow beneath your head and the blanket up to your neck. It melted away remnants of fear, after being alone with not only some demonic hound, but a strange man, too, more than capable of harming you.

It was a struggle to continue your day as you normally would, but it was a weekend, so a short trip out was all you needed. You were back before midday but still alone. Alone until well into the evening, almost convinced it had been a fever dream until you had finished changing into comfortable clothes, and the silhouette standing in your kitchen turned, tail wound at his bare ankle.

"Oh."

The tail flicked and he watched you with glowing eyes, which darted back from you to the door. "If you would rather I leave-"

"No. No, stay." His head canted much like it had when he was the creature, and you smiled, offering him a change of clothes you had bought; not so much a change, but something to cover up with. "I'd like the company, and an explanation."

He apparently had no shame, and you had to admit, he needn't have any. His body was taut, and once more you were drawn to admiring him. The clothes hung off his frame, adding to his general unruliness - his hair particularly, ruffed with thick curls nearly enshrouding the nubby horns.

The stranger was a foot or so taller than you, stiffening when you reached out towards him. He blinked when you introduced yourself, before whispering, "my name is Danon. It's okay," he said, and tipped his head down.

They were rough, thick at the base, and Danon's breath caught when you stroked up to the tips. Horns of a devil, yet he stood before you still weakened by wounds visible, though closed over at his throat, at least. No blood stained the white shirt yet, so you instead moved past to make a drink for you each.

"Start from the beginning, Danon."

His lips twitched, though the smile didn't last. "I am a hellhound. We guide souls on from their lives here. My life is owed to you."

You sipped in quiet until it helped calm your thoughts. Sat opposite a hellhound, you needed the strength. "Sounds lonely."

His voice trembled. "It is."

When Danon chose not to elaborate, you embraced the quiet. He had only sniffed at the tea, but you wouldn't force him to drink it. With his hands so large, clawed, the mug shrunk between them.

He still remained quiet, so you watched him carefully and said, "you followed me for a month."

"It was meant to be you."

Danon's lips pulled back like he was snarling down at his mug, but the action somehow only made a smile grow on your face. He snapped his head up, slamming the mug down hard enough the handle shattered free.

"It was your life I was sent for. Not the elder man. You. Say something," he bit out, a snarl coming audibly now when you just looked at him, heart-pounding but face unchanging. "Is that it? You don't care about your own life? I could snatch it from you now, leave you there breathless until-" he bit his cheek sharp as his tail swung out in short whips. "I chose to give you time."

The only sound you could make was a breathless, "why?"

"I watched you long before revealing myself."

"Oh, don't tell me," you cut in, rolling your eyes. "You fell in love with me? Is that it?"

"Yes."

"Very funny," you snapped, and Danon's throat bobbed. Like you had done, he said nothing, and you began to grip your mug tighter. "Tell me you're lying. You killed someone because you love me?"

"His time had come. I sent him in place of your soul. The world cannot lose you. The way you care for these people… not one other soul is so caring. You deserve to live."

"But he didn't?"

Danon's long tipped ears twitched, almost pinning back once your voice sharpened. He thumbed the crack in the mug with his claw and grunted, "we can claim a soul. I fought for yours and until I choose to let you pass," he glanced up, finding your face ashen. "You will live. The elder was sickly. Longer for him would be a cruelty. His soul was so far gone I couldn't resist guiding him. It's like… like an itch."

Questions sprouted endlessly the more he spoke, and you fully intended to return to the matter of him claiming your soul, but he hunched over, and you wondered if it took a toll on him, being the one to cart people from this life. Better to have a guide than not, but your mind drifted to the man whose passing you'd heard of nearby; very old, very sick, and in a way, it was an easing of pain.

"Don't I itch?"

His warm laughter came as a surprise. Danon's tail swayed gently. "No. You're like a beacon to me. I need to scratch the itch, but your soul is where I return to. When you healed me, you accepted my claim. For simplicity," he murmured, canting his head a little to hold your eyes. "We are bound, 'til death do us part. It is late."

Like that, Danon dismissed the questions burning in your mind. He rose, his form slender and lean, before rounding the table towards you. His claws pressed beneath your chin and he fell low, so close his breath brushed your face. The warmth in your stomach tightened your chest. If Danon lowered himself a little more, you would lean into his kiss without pause.

"I will never apologise for choosing you."

Sleep evaded you for a long time. Knowing that a creature of hell was resting in the lounge gave you plenty to torment over, and like he knew, the soft padding of paws entered your room. The beast huffed a heavy breath against your hand before curling at the foot of your bed, a weight that left you curled into yourself. His presence was a comfort, even as you struggled to stop thinking of him.

He loved you. He loved you, and he had bound your souls together.

Sometime in the night as your thoughts became heavier, the bed dipped. The creature rose, a yawn baring sharp teeth in a display that had frightened you nights ago, before whining quietly. He nudged at your arm until you let him lay close, nosing at your throat and whining again until you were able to rest.

Danon wasn't by your side when you woke. There wasn't a trace of him left. The shattered mug had been cleared away, the smoky scent that followed him was gone, and the comfort with it. You almost thought it had been a dream, a delirious lie after being alone too long, and forced yourself to go about your day as you would normally. If Danon came home, it would be of his own choice.

He staggered into your room three nights gone and collapsed to his knees in reaching out to you. It was the thick of night, so you woke with a cry at somebody waking you. Danon caught your face in clammy palms and hushed you. It was without a word that you kicked back the sheets for him, and he crawled beside you - bare, but so exhausted you couldn't find it in you to care as he clutched you tight with a rough sigh.

It wasn't the time for questions, but you leaned back as far as you could with his arms snaked against you, brushing your hand against his burning cheek. "I missed you."

His glowing eyes blinked down at you. "You missed me?"

You hummed and leaned into his chest. "Did you have an itch?"

His chest rose beneath you but it was answer enough. Danon's kiss was tentative, pressed to your temple like a breath, fleeting when he laid his cheek to your crown. "I missed you, too."

"Tell me what it means to have my soul claimed."

"Come morning, you may ask me anything."

"Will you be here?"

The hellhound paused a breath. "I'm never far," he said, but it was answer enough as you woke entwined, cheek to his shoulder and with a tail draped over your hips.

For a creature of hell, sunlight blessed him. The sharp angles of his face looked softer in the golden hue, and you were free to admire him until he grumbled and peeked open an eye at you. Danon's brows dipped when he found you already awake, but you were quick to catch his arm before he could lean away.

"I fought for the right to your soul," he murmured, thick with sleep and slightly slurred. "It is mine. Nothing can take you without me releasing you."

"Don't I own my own soul?"

"It is mine," he said against the pillows, grumbling and turning away. Though as he fought to muffle himself, his arm around you tightened. "Pretty soul, too."

"Am I immortal?" Danon breathed a laugh. His tail flicked down your legs and he shook his head. "Are you?"

"If I wish to pass on, I may."

The words were rough and muffled now he had found a spot on the pillow to hide from the light, but you spoke still. If he was in your bed, he would answer your questions. "Will you pass on when I do?"

He hummed, "I might." You frowned, and he let out a rumble of a growl, turning fully from the pillow. Danon rose over you until you were laid back beneath him. "It is dependent on you."

"Me?" You blanched, "why me?"

"How attached I am. I never," he growled, and would have lurched back if not for your touch brushing his arm. "I never intended to claim someone. Your soul is my burden-"

"I'm a burden?"

Danon snarled, but you bit back a smile at the gesture. He brought himself close, forehead to yours, and whispered, "I loved you before claiming you. That is my burden alone. May I?"

Throat tight, you tried to hold your voice steady when you asked, "may you?"

"May I sleep?"

Your breath rushed from you and you forced a nod, laying still as he nestled back into the pillows. Danon's hand skimmed your stomach when you slid free, and his tail snagged at your ankle before unwinding.

Days passed much like that, and each in his presence weakened you. Confessions came in soft whispers when, to him, they were the only possible answer to yet another of your questions. You asked him if he had a home. He did; loose curls fell against his horns, brushed his dark eyes, and the answer, though he never did anything more than smile at you, echoed in your chest. It was the same reason he came back after a soul needed guiding, and the isolation of what he was struck you when he returned, falling into your arms no matter where he found you.

The worst came when he was gone nearly a fortnight. Some nights you doubted if he would come back to you, and the memory of him seeing you as beacon became your clutch. You had taken to resting on the small sofa in the days, knowing that if he came back in the light, you would wake.

His whine was so soft you thought him to be the beast when a warmth brushed your cheek, but arms tucked beneath you and curled you into a bare chest. Danon's lips lingered on your forehead before he laid you on your bed, whispering your name as he began to free you from your dress. The lace parted easily for him, and you brought his hands up to your sleeves when he made to turn, helping him undress you until you were left only in your underwear.

"Don't stay away so long," you whispered, reaching out to brush back his loose curls. Danon trembled when you ran your thumb against his horns. "What if you didn't come back to me?"

He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. "That will never happen."

"This isn't one-sided," you said. Lengthened teeth cut into his lower lip when you slowly parted your legs beneath him, and Danon's hips fell against yours. He let out a breathless moan when your touch pressed to his lips and he let them part, tongue hot against you. "Did you not think I loved you?"

He whined, and his head fell heavy onto your chest. You gasped when he kissed the soft skin as it fell low, and his hands settled on your hips. "Tell me you do."

"I might," you said, and he was peppering softer kisses across your breast, hot lips drawing on your nipple until you groaned. "You'll have to do more than that first."

Danon's lips curled up against your stomach, and relief flooded you when he moved lower. His thumbs stroked small circles into your thighs when he pressed his hot tongue to the fabric clinging to your body, tasting you through it. His teeth caught at the hem and as you lifted your hips, he snatched them off and returned as fast, kissing purple flushes onto your legs before pausing.

"Tell me now."

With a small smile, you reached low to hook a finger against his horn, and breathed, "not yet, love."

He snarled half-heartedly before a long drag of his tongue made you choke. Danon flicked the muscle up until it nudged to your nerves, earning a sharp cry of his name in pleasure. The heat now rushing through you began to pool in your gut, and tightened with the passion he began to lap at you with. The hound growled low, and the shock of it ran in shivers through you.

Claws curled against your skin and he pressed your legs back to your chest. The same fire you felt throbbing glowed in his eyes, and he almost held your stare for as long as he stretched your tight body around his tongue, if you hadn't shuddered and bucked against him.

"Danon-" His nose forced hot air against you, nosing up at your clit and you stuttered out a plea, grasping at his hair and grinding your hips up to his face. "I need you. I need you to-Danon-"

He yelped when you dragged him up, and his body rubbed hard against you. The weight of him slick and nudging to your core made you wriggle, and he palmed your stomach with a small smile, the other hand circling his cock and guiding it up so his head rubbed to your nerves.

"If we do this, you will wear my mark." He turned to kiss your knee as it came against his shoulder. "Am I what you want?"

The shine to eyes was so innocent that you nodded, tangling your fingers in his hair again to drag him against you. "I love you."

Your voice broke on a hoarse cry. Danon laid over you, your legs strained up against him a way that had your body so tight and stuffed when his cock drove deep. His lips, thick and sweetened by your taste, parted on a heady groan with each thrust, each clench of your thighs dragging him deeper.

At that moment, your souls recognised the other; they must have done, with a feeling of belonging overcoming you as Danon cradled your face, running away a tear of pleasure. He rutted up as he began to gasp and shake, a weight slamming against your centre. He soothed you with a whisper of his love, and grinned at your answering whine before the claw of his thumb flicked your clit. Bolts of pleasure knotted in your core. You cried, seeing white and locking tight in the same second Danon thrust hard, the knot forced into you and sticking.

You felt him come, thick and hard until he was panting and kissing down your throat. The black swirls of his mark formed across your chest and Danon held you close as his knot swelled all the more.

"Stay here." He swallowed, nipping at your jaw before meeting your eyes. "Stop travelling," you said quietly, and Danon's fingers running down your hips paused, splaying wide as he looked down at you. Your traced his chest, drawn to the stretch of his skin where a matching mark laid. "Care for this village, the neighbouring ones. You said you only take souls at their time. Guide theirs."

"Stay with you?" His small smile tugged at your heart. Danon slid his arm lower to lift you up against him, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. "I will try."

I wrote Danon in like one sitting and honestly? He stole my heart. I don't know how it happened but this is the longest thing I've written that wasn't intended to be two parts. Danon is now my baby, and I hope you all loved him too - let me know if you did! Threw in the NSFW as a treat to myself. We love indulgent writing. Thank you for getting this far <3

#kim-monsterlings writing #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #demon #monster x human #hellhound #hellhound x reader #hellhound x human #2nd person #female reader #Danon the hellhound #kim-monsterlings #exophilia fluff #exophilia writing

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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years

Text

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part 3 (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)

AN- Thank you for the patience for this one! My little boy has been unwell so it has taken a little longer than I had hoped but here is the third instalment! It’s a little shorter than the others but that’s because I wanted to contain the angsty part in one chapter, the next ones will hopefully be longer..

This one is a little more angsty, a lot more emotional, but I’m quite happy with the outcome and I hope you are too! As usual, please let me know any thoughts/feedback! And enjoy!

Word Count: 2510

"Is it just me that finds Stephen Fry a bit.. sexy?" You spoke, watching the television as Young Ones' Scumbag College competed on University Challenge. "I don't know what it is about him. He's just.. got such a lovely voice, and he's so sodding clever and his CLOTHES- got much better looking with age, mind." Mycroft only hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"Hmm.. He's not really my type." You laughed and petted his head fondly.

"You don't have to be gay to find another man attractive Myc." You mused. "Me and Greg talk about it all the time, though he fancies Hugh Laurie more, especially in Blackadder." You laughed, thinking back on the memory of Greg's fondness of George in the Blackadder Goes Forth series.

"I'm aware that sexuality and attraction are not the same, Y/N. I am comfortable enough in my own heterosexuality to appreciate another man's features. In fact, I very much agree with Gregory's view on Mr Laurie. Stephen, however, is not my type. The few people that did speak to me in University used to tell me I reminded them of him in the way I behaved but, and I quote, 'without even a lick of his humour, you miserable bastard.' Thus, I cannot look at him in that way." He laughed a little and you cleared your throat.

"Oh.. uh, yeah I guess that makes sense. Not the humour part though, you're actually hilarious and they missed out big time." You tried to avoid the point where you'd deemed Stephen Fry sexy in every way he was similar to the man who was laying in your lap, and just hoped he wouldn't bring that up.

"He definitely got the looks side of things though, particularly as General Melchett in Goes Forth, though I am not particularly fond of the facial hair." He screwed up his nose in distaste, you fighting every ounce of your control to not say he looked a bit cute. "And certainly didn't have the waistline that 21 year old Mycroft had."

"Speaking in the third person now, are we? Well, Mycroft, Y/N is comfortable enough in her friendship that Y/N thinks Mycroft can be sexy in his own ways too." You teased, partly embarrassed, but equally just trying any way to improve the man's confidence, even by a little. Mycroft choked a little on his own saliva and had to sit up to regain his own breath. Too far? "Sorry." He shook his head 'no' but didn't speak. In his moments of regaining his composure, Mycroft watched you. Processed in his head what you had said- 'was it a joke?', he couldn't read anything on you that would suggest that, though his eyes were glassy from the choking- watched as you panicked, then subsiding the panic to concern as you made sure he was okay. All these things, he thought, he didn't deserve. He took a deep breath and reached for the television remote, pausing the show and settling back on the other side of the sofa. It had to be done now. Done while his brain was allowing it, before he got attached... before he got attached even more. He couldn't keep pretending it was okay, keep accepting your compliments and your kindness, couldn't allow himself to go any further in his.. attraction?

It was always unspoken between the two of you- your not so subtle hints to Mycroft over the last few years hadn't got unnoticed, Mycroft would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he felt the same way, though this was perhaps the most open you had been; he would always put it off, try to think of reasons why you shouldn't be more than whatever you are now- most of the time it circles back to work, your busy schedule at the Yard and his unpredictable working hours mostly, saying to himself that it would simply be pointless, that you wouldn't see each other. But he knew that was a lie- you see him as often as you can, even if it's just for an hour on lunch, and everyone knows he would do his best to move empires to have you over for dinner had it been a while, quite literally actually.

Then there was age, you were in your mid-to-late twenties, he in his forties, though that argument also fell flat after you had mentioned your last long term relationship had been with a man your elder, amongst many of your interests in celebrity males that you had mentioned being closer to his age than yours- and, on his behalf, it was usual for a Politician to walk into formal dinners with a younger woman on arm. In the end, it all went back to the real reason Mycroft put everything off, a reason he hated admitting to even himself. Mycroft was scared.

Having been the age he is with no sexual experience, no previous relationships, and not even many friendships, he was terrified he would humiliate himself and you would leave him completely. You were both adults, both clever, you both knew there was always 'something' there, but without you ever acting upon it, Mycroft decided to live his life keeping you as a friend rather than risk not having you at all. He felt guilty enough having you here anyway. He couldn't allow you to keep stroking his hair like that, or letting you sleep in his bed with him, hold him as he snored, when it was for completely other desires in his own mind, not without speaking to you. No, that wouldn't be fair- even if he didn't fully understand everything himself and was still incredibly scared. You needed to know the truth, about everything, and, if there were the slightest chance you'd forgive him, he had decided he couldn't wait any longer, couldn't put it off anymore, he wanted you to carry on doing those things, wanted to continue the nights you would stay in his bed. But Mycroft wanted it to change, he wanted to be able to start the night with a ghost of his hand on your hip, without waiting until you were asleep to bring himself to have that courage, to wake up next to you and not feel the awkward need to move so soon, just to stay a little longer. Christ, Mycroft wanted every cliché in the book with you, and it took him until yesterday to realise how much he wanted that, after nearly losing you. And he needed you to know, even if it risked it all.

"Y/N I-"

"I know, I'm sorry, I took it too far I was just messing about.. Not that I didn't mean it, I wasn't joking about you.. You are very attractive, but it was inappropriate.. I shouldn't have said it.. I just wanted to help.. though I don't think it did, might have made it worse, actually.. Didn't want to say anything and let you find out.. like that.. not that it matters.. because I AM happy JUST being your friend, over the moon, actually.. so I don't want you to think I ruined that... Because I know you don't feel.. like that.. and you're not saying anything which is scaring me a little because you're always talking.. Not that I don't like that.. I love you talking to me, you've got a lovely voice.. and.. and I'm going to shut up again.. sorry.. again.." You rambled, a lot, too much.. far too much. Mycroft tried to process everything, his eyes closing at every word. You were making this so much harder for him, admitting everything like that. Mycroft hunched forward in his position and braced his elbows on his knees, index and middle finger of each hand holding the weight of his head by his temples.

"No just.. Just stop talking for a moment." Mycroft snapped, cutting you off as your mouth opened to speak a little, the small jump back made his gaze soften. "Please." He spoke softer, apologetic. "I can't.. talk about that.. not yet. Not until you know.." You went to speak again but his head tilted, eyes containing a rare glaze of vulnerability, trying to stay in contact with your own but constantly dropping back to his lap- a silent plea to stay quiet, be patient and just give him a moment. And you did. Turning your body completely sideways, you crossed your legs on the sofa, hands resting folded in your lap as you encouraged him to continue with a brief nod of your head. "I fear if I don't tell you of yesterday's happenings in this very moment that I never shall, and that is far too selfish, even of me." He took a deep breath in. "But I just.. need a moment. A few, likely, throughout." You nodded your head again.

From there, Mycroft began to explain everything that had happened, told you of his sister, where she had taken him, Sherlock and John, what she spoke about, what she tried to get them to do. His voice cracked every so often, knuckles whitened as his fists clenches, creases formed in his trousers where he squeezed his hand on them, but you listened to every word and stayed silent- eyes welling with small tears. Mycroft spoke of the screen, told you of the snipers that were out there, targeting Ms Hudson and Molly. Your body stiffened as he added Lestrade to the list, feeling your throat tighten a little at the mere thought of losing Greg. Mycroft pressed on, told you about how Eurus tried to make Sherlock choose between him and John, told you how he'd tried to convince Sherlock to just shoot him, how Sherlock refused and threatened to shoot himself. His voice went breathless at the end of that, the idea of losing his brother so easily still fresh in his mind. You loosened your sitting position and leaned over, taking Mycroft's hand in your own and squeezing. He sighed again and closed his eyes.

"Please, don't." He whispered, trying to fold his hand into a fist to escape your embrace. You didn't let go and offered your other hand on his back in support as you watched a stray tear fall down his cheek. "I said don't!" He shouted, moving from your touch and standing up from the sofa, beginning to pace as his face contorted into more pain, another tear following the path of the last. You sat back, watched him, didn't take the anger to heart. "It was my fault! All of it!" He ran his hands through his hair and tugged, moving them after to wipe the droplets from his cheek.

"Myc it's ok-"

"It isn't okay Y/N! No part of any of this is even remotely close to okay!" He stilled now, posture going back rigid as he looked at you, eyes bloodshot and glassy. He told you of his Birthday present to Eurus- five unsupervised minutes with Moriarty- and started his pacing again. "A man died yesterday because of me. Sherlock, John, Greg, Ms Hudson, Molly. They all almost died yesterday. You almost... you almost died yesterday." His breath hitched again, lip softly quivering at the end of his words. You tensed a little and frowned, confused and urging him to elaborate. "They weren't the only people on the screens, not the only ones with a red dot on their heads, Y/N." Gaze avoiding you now, turned completely to face the wall rather than look at you at all- giving him a chance to compose himself, steadying his voice. "I saw you, you were happy, just dancing and making tea, but at any moment you could have... and it would have been my fault. And I know I should have told you yesterday, it was selfish of me using you the way that I have without letting you know everything. You could have been gone before I could tell you everything, before I could explain how I feel about you, and it all came rushing to me the moment I saw your face on that screen. I’m so sorry, for everything, for ignoring everything, for being the reason you almost-" The last thing Mycroft had expected was the feeling of arms around his waist, the feeling of a head resting between his shoulder blades, soaking the shirt with tears. You sniffed, holding onto him tighter as you cried into his back.

"It's okay Mycroft." You spoke, voice croaking from tears. "They're okay.. I'm okay. And you're going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere." The relief Mycroft felt from your words ran through his body as he slumped a little, left hand holding on to where yours joined on his stomach, his right lifting to his eyes where, in a very rare moment, he allowed himself to weep.

***

Neither of you were too sure on how long you stayed like that, Mycroft being held in your arms as he quietly cried into his hand, you into his back, but it was long enough that your feet were beginning to ache and Mycroft had become silent a short while ago. You attempted to loosen your grip but Mycroft quickly grabbed back at your hands, holding them to him again. You changed your tactic and instead circled round until your hands remained together on his back, you now at his front and you gave him one last squeeze before guiding him backwards to the sofa, taking your place next to him but keeping your arms around him.

"I'm sorry." His voice was broken, quieter than usual. You shook your head and fought the urge to cry again.

"Don't." You spoke, sliding a hand down to hold his own that rested on his thigh. "Don't apologise Myc. You didn't do anything on purpose, you were just trying to be a good person.. a good brother. We're both still alive. Sherlock, John, Greg, Ms Hudson, Molly, they're all fine, and I have no doubt that it was partly due to you that they are still okay- whatever the three of you did in there, it worked, and that's all that matters to me." Mycroft shifted, his eyes finding yours once more, scanning, searching, trying to find anything that showed you were lying, that you didn't trust him anymore, but he couldn't find anything.

"But I-" You placed a hand at the back of his neck and leaned forward slightly, your lips meeting his briefly for a few seconds before pulling back. It wasn't desperate, or longing, or out of lust- it was everything Mycroft needed. Everything that let him know that you weren't going anywhere, that you still wanted to be around him, to be with him. He relaxed but didn't speak, his hand beneath yours just turning to allow your fingers to lace together as he let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. You rested your head against his shoulder, smiling softly as you felt his own rest atop yours before falling into a comfortable silence.

#mycroft #Mycroft Holmes #bbc mycroft #bbc mycroft holmes #mycroft x reader #bbc sherlock #reader insert #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes x reader smut

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kroerms · 3 years

Text

Lifeline

Oneshot || pairing: kenma x reader (gender neutral, but I tried to stay clear of any pronouns)|| genre: angstisch, hurt/comfort ||

warnings: depiction of depression/ symptoms of a depression || if I forgot to mention something, please feel free to tell me...

a/n: sooo, this is my very first fanfic since like 2013, please be gentle with me haha

y/n: “I’m sorry, but I can’t make it to our date today…”

Kenma: “What do you mean you can’t make it? We planned this for over a week and are supposed to meet up in an hour...I’m already out of my house…”

y/n: “I’m really sorry, I just can’t.”

You sighed, tossed your phone next to you on the bed and pressed the pillow closer to your chest.

You couldn’t really pinpoint what triggered all these negative feelings. But your whole life there have always been these days where you felt completely drained of energy and the negativity of your own mind played tricks on you. You had always called it your “social battery” being empty. But in reality, it was more than just that. It was more than just not wanting to see your friends or family. It was a consuming tiredness paired with negative thoughts and sadness rooted deep within your very heart. Days like these would come and go, you learned that over the years, which is why you preferred to be alone on those days because you didn’t want to burden anyone with your pointless feelings. Sure, sometimes those feelings would almost consume you completely and would persist for weeks, but you always managed to handle them one way or another. You knew this all too well, you had had to deal with this part of yourself since your early teens after all and now that you were 28 it just didn’t seem like you were ever to grow out of it like your parents used to say you would. It wasn’t their fault though, since you never really talked about what it felt like to anyone after your so called friends seemed to dismiss it as just you being lazy and so your parents thought your tendency to hang in your room and lay in bed all day was just due to hormones. And you always felt like no one would believe you anyways and you weren’t prepared for all the follow up questions that would drain the last bit of energy you had, and so you stopped explaining yourself altogether.

You’ve known Kenma for a while now. The two of you started to form a friendship after you accidentally took his coffee order from the barista because he had ordered your usual. And with your head always being in the clouds you had just heard “vanilla latte” and without waiting for your name to follow the order you’d taken the beverage.

“Uhm, excuse me but I think this is supposed to be mine - well unless your name is Kenma as well, but I highly doubt that”, a monotone voice next to you spoke. Your gaze shifted from the to-go-cup in your hand to the man beside you. The faux blonde with the dark roots and the almost bored facial expression stood next to the take-out section of the coffeeshop, switch in one hand and the other in the pocket of his red tracksuit.

“Oh, I’m very sorry, I must have zoned out again. I sometimes get stressed in overly crowded places and tend to lose myself in my thoughts to calm down aaaand I just overshared, didn’t I?” You bowed slightly and handed the man in front of you his drink just as the barista called out your name with a “vanilla latte” attached to it. You quickly turned around to take the coffee so that Kenma wouldn’t notice the slight blush that spread over your cheeks from the embarrassment.

“y/n’s a pretty name, suits you.”, Kenma said, flashing a slight blush of his own as the words left his lips. “Well thank you...Kenma was it?”. The faux blonde nodded slightly. An awkward silence infolded the two of you. Just as you wanted to excuse yourself so that you could finally leave this utterly embarrassing situation, Kenma spoke up again: “well if you want to make it up to me for almost stealing my drink, I’d really appreciate a piece of apple pie from the bakery down the road. If that’s not too crowded for you.”

After that encounter, the two of you quickly grew closer and developed a bond to one another. Just like you, Kenma enjoyed lazy days at home gaming or watching movies together more than going out on adventures. So the two of you would often hang out at his house playing Mario Kart together or you’d watch movies on your projektor at yours. Sure, occasionally the two of you would go out to get something to eat or to watch his friends at a volleyball game, but these outings were rare. And it was because of those cozy little hangouts that you never once had to cancel plans with him, thus not once did you have to explain to him why you didn’t have the energy to go out and do stuff….well at least until today.

The familiar wave of guilt washed over you for not telling him why you had to cancel on such short notice. But you really didn’t have the energy to explain that your inner demons had taken control over your body and mind today. You were already feeling exhausted because work had been hell the last couple of weeks and it didn’t help that seemingly everyone in your family needed something from you which resulted in you spending your off-time after work either at your fathers house or your mothers. This left little to no you-time to relax and recharge yourself.

It was now near lunchtime on your well deserved day off and Kenma and you had plans to check out the new cat café that opened up just a few blocks from your home. But you hadn’t even made it out of bed, let alone under the shower yet. The comfort of the warm blankets was just too good. The mere thought of leaving this safe haven stressed you out and you had to hold yourself back from crying. You felt so overwhelmed with the world today that you couldn’t entertain the thought of participating in anything right now. All you wanted - no - needed to do was sleep until that heavy feeling on your chest would lift off and let you breathe again.

Just as you were dozing off, you heard your doorbell ring. You didn’t expect a package or anything today, so you didn’t exactly know who would want something from you right now.

Wrapped in your pink aristocats pijama and your very wild bedhead you padded to your door. What you didn’t expect while looking through your peephole was Kenma, standing in front of your apartment, arms full of paper bags.

“Open up, these are heavy you know! I know you’re standing behind the door.”

You took a deep breath before opening the door to let Kenma in. He immediately made his way to the kitchen, where he placed all the bags on the countertop before looking at you.

His gaze was intense. With what seemed like worry in his eyes, he scanned over your tired form.

“What’s wrong y/n?”, he asked.

“Nothing, I’m just tired, didn’t sleep enough last night I guess, but it’ll be better by tomorrow, so you really don’t have to worry about little old me”, you meekly said in an attempt to lighten the mood. You tried giving him the most reassuring smile you could manage, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You knew he noticed by the way his gaze softened. In one swift motion Kenma pulled you into his chest and cradled your head with one hand, while the other found its way around your waist, pulling you closer into him in the process. This took you by surprise, since Kenma and you didn’t really hug a lot.

“Tell me what’s really wrong y/n. I can clearly tell that you are not okay. You are a measly liar”, he whispered into your hair. Damn him and his observation skills, you thought. Well, this is it, you couldn’t hide that part of yourself from him any longer. You were scared to open up to him about that part of yourself, the fear of losing him because he didn’t want to deal with someone as broken as you are was immense.

“y/n?” Kenma spoke up again. You must’ve lost yourself in thought again, you didn’t even notice the tears that slipped past your eyelids and were making their way down your cheeks, before coming to a halt at your chin.

“I’m s-sorry, I - I don’t want to w-worry you… I just, I feel so tired and I f-feel like my battery is completely e-empty. I don’t feel like I c-can handle anyone, including m-myself right now. I j-just want everything to s-stop. I am exhausted, I feel like I a-am drowning within m-myself and t-there seems to b-be no lifeline”, you sniffled into Kenma’s chest. His hold on you tightened at that. He knew you got overwhelmed in crowds sometimes and that you preferred quiet, lazy meet-ups at home over going out. It was one of the reasons why he liked you so much, you didn’t expect him to be outgoing and you always accepted him for the person he was. He knew you were someone who liked their personal time and that the world, especially the people living in it would overwhelm you sometimes, but he had never seen you like this. Small, so fragile, almost as if you crumbled within yourself. As if the slightest blow of wind could knock you over and break you.

“Do you want me to leave? I brought food from that new café. I can just leave it here and go, if you need time to yourself…” Kenma said.

You were torn. On one hand, you really didn’t have the energy to entertain someone right now. But Kenma felt so warm and his embrace made you feel secure. As if the world couldn’t get to you as long as he held you like this. So you tightened your hold on him and shook your head lightly.

A small smile appeared on Kenma’s face.

“Alright, how about you go lay down on the couch then, while I unpack the food and we watch some cheesy movie together?”

The thought of leaving Kenma’s arms didn’t please you at all but you obliged and went to your couch in the open living room. You watched as Kenma started unpacking of cake slices, sandwiches and chocolates out of the bags. He even brought avocado-onigiri. Your favorite. After he displayed everything on plates he came over to put the food and two lemonades on the coffee table. He sat down next to you and turned on your TV. He started your favorite rom-com before he pulled you close to him again so that your head was resting on his chest. As the movie went on, he started to stroke your hair with his hand, while the other was on top of your arm that was draped over his torso. This was still very unfamiliar to you, but it felt nice.

“You know, you never have to hide your feelings from me. Not even the negative ones. I know I sometimes seem a little distant and I am not very open about my own feelings either but you mean a great deal to me and I’m always gonna be here for you. Even when you feel like drowning, I’ll always be a lifeline for you to hold on to. And I know I can’t fix everything, but I’ll try my best to help you with fixing what needs to be fixed.” he whispered softly. You closed your eyes, new tears forming in them making your eyelids heavy. Even if all those inner demons were loud within you, Kenma’s voice and reassuring words slowly drowned them out and you finally felt a bit of the weight on your chest getting lighter. You knew you had to work on these things and you would need more than just Kenma, you’d need professional help to cope with all of this, but with Kenma by your side like this, you felt like anything was possible. Before you dozed off in Kenma’s embrace you whispered back: “thank you so much for being here”.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #hq x y/n #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #kenma kozume #kenma x gender neutral reader #kenma kozume x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu oneshot #kenma #kenma hurt/comfort #kenma angst #haikyuu hurt/comfort #haikyuu angst

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fluffi · 3 years

Text

SARCOLINE SUNSET I: WELCOME HOME, OUTSIDER :: SOOBIN

pairing: soobin x gn!reader, platonic!ot5 x gn!reader genre: fluff, some subjective angst, bits of humor, enemies-to-lovers, childhood friends word count: 4002 event: #summerscape for @kpopscape credit: @enha-woodzies for making the gfx for this series! show her some love <3 author’s note: i accidentally deleted this post so here is a rushed reupload. it might not be as good as the original because it isnt proof read as well but i still hope the algorithm picks it up, maybe this’ll be good for the post. Also, the second part will be coming out in 15 days. warnings: people disappearing, mentions of burning and fire (further warnings will be released in the next parts as the story gets darker)

THIS STORY IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT DICTATE JAY OR NI-KI’S PERSONAL LIVES AND/OR FAMILY.

part two ->

The blonde stared up at an intricately designed structure in awe, walking forward to touch the sides of it and running his calloused hands up and down its rusted carved wedges. It seemed oddly cliche and unrealistic, but he could feel its story. Every touch of the ceramic pillar provided him with emotion that he couldn’t bring himself to explain.

The sun hadn’t set yet, but he could make out the faint reflection of it settling in the background. The huge pine trees around him were making conversation with each other; their faint whispers and rustles providing peace to his veins.

So entranced in the scenery of such a mystical place, he forgot to watch out for his younger peer. Kicking back into his senses, he nervously called out, “Riki! You there?” His voice, usually strong and boisterous, laced fear today.

“Don’t worry about me Jay, I’m right behind you. Just climbing this fence..and..there!” Riki let out a grunt as he jumped onto the soft grass, looking at his older friend with an innocent grin.

At the sight of his buddy, Jay visibly loosened. It was clear that he didn’t feel safe in this environment, yet felt entranced to it in some way. Riki caught up to him in a quick jog before standing next to Jay, in awe at the magnificent view that they were spectating for the first and possibly last time.

“Is this…the place you were talking about?” Riki was out of breath from running after his peer. He pats the grassy patch below him before slumping onto it, crossing his legs afterward.

Jay took a seat next to him, setting his canvas satchel and leather jacket next to him. “According to the maps and books, this is the right spot. I just want to see if the myth is true.”

Riki clapped his hands in excitement and turned to face Jay. “We’re staying till the sun sets right? I want to see what the carousel looks like at night! This structure is so fascinating. It must be beautiful out here at night.”

“No, we’re walking back as soon as the sun goes down. I do not want to risk being out here at night. People have disappeared from staying too long and I wouldn’t want to worry your mother.”

Riki visibly slumped and turned back in time to see the last drop of orange dip. It was quiet for a while. The singing birds stopped humming their soulful tunes, yet the whispering trees grew louder, their inaudible gossip echoing in the ears of the two boys.

At nine at night, Riki’s mother would call Jay, heeding no response. She would do the same for his parents and his friends. The only piece of information they could provide was that Jay had brought Riki, in his words, to “a magical place”. With no other vital details they could draw from their son’s peers, Jay and Riki’s family agree to call the local police, reporting two missing people: two minors, one last seen in a brown leather jacket, and a taller one tailing alongside him. Both their hairs were dyed in a striking shade of blonde.

Summer’s heat-blasted onto your skin as soon as you stepped out of your sleek white Toyota. It was good to be back, you supposed. Although it was something that not many people would fawn over, you were ecstatic to be home in town.

Leaving at the mere age of sixteen wasn’t easy. After your parents decided that you were too good for a mediocre high school where people cared more about their body count than grade count, they immediately sent you off to a prestigious boarding school in the big city. You were given three days to pack and say goodbye to your friends, the rest of your family, your world. As excited as you were to study in the evolutionary epicenter of technology, you didn’t like how you had almost no say in this decision.

You didn’t return home from high school even after four years of studying at that mentally draining institution. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to come back, you were just so accustomed to life in the big city that it seemed pointless to return to square one. With the rest of the world finally in your grip (or so you thought), you enrolled in a highly expensive university and received a full-ride scholarship.

Perhaps that was your breaking point. Piles of work that could never be cleared must’ve got to your head. No one out there seemed to care about your mental health and well-being. The only reason you were allowed to take a break from the university and return was because of your constant breakdowns that your lecturers called “distracting” and “unethical”. You were hoping that this drop-by in town would give you a physical and mental cleanse.

There was no place as hot as home, from where you had been. The blazing sun scorched onto the road. Carrying baggage by itself was already hard enough, but this heat was immensely torturing. You struggled to carry your belongings while trying to close the car boot at the same time. Oh, a pity. You had just returned home and you were slowly turning into a bundle of disorganization, unlike your previous methodical attitude.

“Need a hand?” A familiar suede voice behind your shoulder sounded like music to your ears as you dropped all of your luggage and turned back to see…

“Taehyun!” Child best friend number one. You were looking at a once-innocent boy with doe eyes who had matured into a fine young man. His hair was dyed platinum blonde and, although younger than you, possessed a flair that was completely unlike his past self. His facial features were more prominent than ever and you wondered if all of your friends had developed as well as he had.

You locked your arms around his neck and embraced him as he took your baggage from you.

“You’re so tall now!” You gasped in awe and looked him up and down.

“Of course I am! A boy has to grow, doesn’t he?”

Speak of the devil(s), four people tagged behind Taehyun, waiting for you to notice their presence. All of them were just as tall (if not taller) than your blonde friend and stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t just the height, their hair was also in very...exciting colors.

“Can’t believe you forgot about us just for Taehyun.” Ah, that nasal voice was so recognizable. Choi Yeonjun, second-best friend. You cherished him like he was your secret weapon, a power waiting to be unleashed into your industrial world. Although older than Taehyun, they seemed to be the same height now. You couldn’t tell because his new neon pink hair was waxed slick and puffy which made him look a teensy bit taller than his younger friend. You had seen him around on social media and he was a hair-changing chameleon.

Alongside Yeonjun was Hueningkai, better known as Kai in the friend group. He was the youngest one, constantly babied and spoiled, you could say. He was probably influenced by the rest of his friends too, his hair now in a mossy shade of blonde.

Poor Yeonjun, you completely disregarded his existence and dashed over to Kai instead, eagerly standing next to him to compare heights. The kid had grown so much, you couldn’t tell if you were contented that he was now taller than you or dejected that you had missed so much when you weren’t around.

“Hey, wait up!” Someone from behind called. With Hueningkai and Yeonjun blocking your view you couldn’t see who that one person walking next to Choi Beomgyu was.

Beomgyu, the last friend who joined the friend group. He was always a comedian and never failed to make your day. Although, he didn’t seem so smiley anymore. You figured that it was school stress and adulting getting the best of him. We all had those days; you regrettably knew them like you knew the back of your hand . Unlike the rest of his friends, Beomgyu’s hair was kept in a natural shade of ivory brown. He had never been swayed by the rest of the crowd.

There were so many things to do, so many people to see. You had missed out on most of your growing: having fun with friends, staying up late at night just to watch the stars, dancing on your balcony. You had missed the people too. The town felt different from when you had left it.

“Soobin! Don’t just stand behind, meet our friend! They just returned from the city, right?” Beomgyu ran over to you before giving you a little squeeze.

Who’s Soobin?

“Hey, I’m Choi Soobin. Twenty-one this year. I moved here a few years ago. You must have left before I showed up.” A simple and concise introduction from the blue-haired man. Maybe he was the root of this hair-dyeing trend in town (pun very much intended), as well as the height trend since he was just as tall, if not taller than the rest of the boys.

You briefly introduced yourself but that was about it. You didn’t know how to create small talk, nonetheless with someone completely unfamiliar to you.

Later that day, you wondered if he had replaced you, become another guardian in the friend group. As one of the oldest, you and Yeonjun were always known as the parents of your three “kids”, but Soobin seemed to take care of them equally well. Throughout the day, you watched his every action, how he helped Beomgyu with homework, how he styled Kai’s hair, how he treated Taehyun to his favorite meal, exactly like what you did when you were still around. For once, you felt like the outsider.

Marshmallow Night had always been a tradition here. It was a five-of-you kind of thing, well, the six-of-you now. It had always been the go-to celebration whenever one of you hit a milestone, or was just held for fun. The days of joy where the only thing you had to worry about was whether your smores were burnt.

It had changed a lot over the years, you guys would add some new events to it and remove the ones you guys outgrew, like hopscotch.

You had missed most of its evolution.

Instead of being the main catalyst for today’s event, you resorted to sitting at the side as Soobin took the lead, carrying tables back and forth as well as setting up the fire in a method that the five of you had never used.

Oh, how much you loathed him. You hated his innocent-looking face that spurred out words of authority and boastfulness. You couldn’t stand how he looked so obnoxious with his bright blue hair, his dark brown eyes that held an impeccable gleam. He looked so cheeky, so mean, and worst of all, he had made all of your friends convert to mini spawns of him. Even Yeonjun, the oldest member, no longer felt like the Choi Yeonjun you once knew.

If you could, you would throw him out of your hometown, except that you seemed to be the outsider here. Anyone who walked past would see five people sitting on a huge log, helping each other light marshmallows and biscuits. They would barely notice the one person hunched over on the other side, sitting on the ground, eyes dazed and uninterested.

Occasionally one of the boys would call out to you, either hand you a s’more or ask if you were alright, to which you responded, “I’m alright! Don’t worry about me, I’m having fun.”

Anyone could also see that you weren’t in the zone, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment and be a party pooper. You ended up spending most of the time scrolling on your phone, checking school emails, and such. It didn’t feel like you were back home, it felt like you were on a vacation, on your own.

The commotion had died down, for the most part. Everyone else was either discussing school gossip in hushed voices or making the most of use of their electronic device. You were tempted to join the little heated conversation that Soobin and Beomgyu were having, but you didn’t know who this ‘Chaeyeon’ girl was and either way, you wouldn’t want to voluntarily speak to Choi Soobin.

It wasn’t long before both of them went to do something else, the only sound prevalent being the wood crackling from the bonfire and the occasional chirp of evening birds.

It was a loud, sucked-in breath that drew the attention of everyone, eyes pinned onto the instigator.

Choi Soobin, once again disrupting the peace of this curated environment. He ducked his head in apology and you were about to return to your world when Kai’s curiosity got the best of him.

“Why did you just do that?” His booming voice resounded over everyone else.

You weren’t going to lie, you were curious too. It wasn’t every day you heard a gasp like that.

Soobin looked back up, eyes wide and awake. He was excited about something but seemed to be masking it for the sake of..suspense?

“Okay. You guys know Yongsam Park right?” He put his phone down and tapped his hands on his thighs in a state of urgency.

Now that statement got everyone’s attention. “It’s the flower place outside our town, everyone passes it when they enter. Of course we would know where the place is. Why are you so adamant about it?” Taehyun inquired.

“Well, have any of you gone inside the park? Or near the landmark in general?”

“No. Why would we? There’s nothing to do there than to take pictures of boring flower statues.” You stated.

“See. You guys don’t know anything about the place.” He smirked tilting his head upwards and proudly crossing his arms.

“Could you cut to the chase and tell us what it is already?” Thank Yeonjun for his smart, impatient mouth.

Soobin didn’t answer and merely flipped his phone so you could see whatever was on it. The only words you could make out were “Yongsam...missing...carnival” and something related to the park before he turned it back, away from your view.

“You can’t just say that we don’t know anything about this place then proceed to give us nothing about it.” You rolled your eyes, disinterested in the conversation once again.

“Fine. I’ll send it to you.” Soobin rolled his eyes back as four of the other boys snickered. They loved seeing the two of you bicker.

In courtesy of Beomgyu who gave Soobin your number (without your consent), you received a news article and skimmed through it with eager eyes:

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

YONGSAM PARK CURRENTLY UNDER INVESTIGATION, AUTHORITIES SAY 3 days ago

What’s the deal with Yongsam Park? Insiders say that, although bland and boring, Yongsam Park is currently under high-level investigation for the disappearance of a few citizens. The flower-decorated park is the perfect place to take Instagram-worthy pictures and is quite harmless in itself, so visitors were shocked to arrive at the park only to find it surrounded by heaps of yellow tape.

Yongsam Park was developed by Kim Yongsam, director of My Flowers, a multi-million florist franchise that has now spread to Japan and Taiwan. In a 2015 Interview with the millionaire, he mentioned that he had created the park in the inspiration of the rising ootd picture trend, also known as the outfit-of-the-day trend, which he had initially discovered from his teen daughter.

“I wanted to create a welcoming park for people of all ages, but I couldn’t find a suitable place to do it without the budget being drastically high. In the end, my team and I found an abandoned site and decided to build a simple structure with lower costs up there. Props to my team for the discovery of this landmark. The scenery there, especially in the evening, is stunning .” He stated in the 2015 interview with Soup Magazine.

What’s the abandoned site? With the evidence that is still standing, Yongsam Park is rumored to have previously been a carnival. Said evidence is a worn-down carousel in the back of the park, along with piles of other burnt carnival decoration and equipment. With research, Yongsam Park’s site may have once been an abandoned carnival that perished from an unknown wildfire. This may have been the primary cause of the drought that ensued in the 80s, leaving only a carousel and ashes behind. When questioned, Mr. Kim said that he had decided to leave the carousel standing behind the park due because he felt ‘drawn by its alluring glow’, as quoted.

Investigators and the local police have only enclosed the flower section of Yongsam Park because that was where the victims were spotted. They believe that disappearances took place there and are currently trying to find evidence to back up their stance. Most of this new information is not known to the public, however, Kim and his team are trying to keep it that way. The current disappearance count is seven people, the most recent case being two high-schoolers.

The carousel is still open and does not require a visitor ticket, but visitors are advised to take precautions and leave before the sun sets.

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

FAMILY OF TOURISTS DISAPPEAR AT YONGSAM PARK, INSIDERS SAY THIS IS THE SECOND CASE OF DISAPPEARANCE HERE 2 weeks ago

JAPANESE COUPLE DISAPPEAR AT FLOWER PARK, NETIZENS CALL THE NEWS A POLITICAL DISTRACTION 3 weeks ago

“Are you seriously...telling us...that we should visit a place where people have been kidnapped?” Yeonjun gawked. “Dude, that’s so stupid. What if we die or something?”

“Don’t say that! I was just curious if you guys wanted to go since it’s so near and since your old friend is back home.”

“It’s a dumb move. I’m not risking my life just so I can celebrate the return of my friend. Not worth it.” Beomgyu huffed.

“Hey! You’re worth it, right?” Soobin glanced at you, waiting for a response.

He was...defending you? His ulterior motives were questionable and you weren’t sure if he was protecting you because he cared about you (cue the puking) or solely because he wanted to go to Yongsam Park that bad.

You didn’t reply and chose to drown out the wailing and chaos that ensued with your friends. You clicked on a related article below, curious to learn more about this lesser-known part of the park.

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

Park Jongseong (20) and Nishimura Riki (15) mentioned to their friends that they would be heading to ‘a magical place’, before disappearing for around a week. They were last spotted walking through Yongsam Park, according to anonymous witnesses. This is the third case of disappearances at the park and both teens are the sixth and seventh people to go missing.

Both families reported their children missing just two days after their disappearance. With this case being the last straw, local authorities forcibly shut down Yongsam Park despite protests from staff and management.

Parents of the two minors refused to respond when called for an interview and HYBE reporters resorted to interviewing the victims’ friends instead.

“Jay’s never been a bad kid. Yeah, he might be late here and there, but he wouldn’t skip class or fly across the country for vacation during school. I just don’t understand why he’s not here with us. He wouldn’t voluntarily disappear.” Park Sunghoon (19), a friend and classmate of Jongseong (who is better known as Jay among his friends) said.

“Although I’m not close with Jay, I know Riki personally and I know for a fact that both of them wouldn’t run away like that. Why, Riki was gearing up for a dance competition that he’s been excited about all year, and now he’s just gone? Like that? Riki has always been like my little brother, and he’ll always be. I just want him back at my side.” A teary-eyed Lee Heeseung (20) says.

Netizens have been complaining about the lack of coverage on this issue.

“Maybe Mr. Kim spent all his money on covering this story up from the mainstream public. That’s why he had to build the stupid park on an abandoned sketchy site.” An anonymous netizen commented.

Regardless, we’ll be keeping our prayers for Jongseong and Riki, as well as the five other victims, to return home soon.

“...you guys are such wimps.” That was the first thing you heard Soobin say when you tuned in to the conversation again.

How dare he say that? How dare he have the courage to call you, someone who moved out on your own at 16 to live in the big, scary world, a..wimp?

“Look, Choi Soobin. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a wimp. I didn’t say that I wasn’t interested on this trip.” You stand up and blurt out without thinking twice.

The rest of the boys are gawking at you, their mouths open wide in awe and shock. Yes, you weren’t a wimp, that was for sure, but they had known you all their life as someone who could not stand going out into the wilderness. Maybe the big city had really changed you.

“At least someone wants to go! Perfect. We can leave tomorrow at noon, bring your camping stuff!” Soobin grabbed his things and began walking away.

“Camping?” The five of you exclaimed in unison.

Taehyun, the rational member, gasped. “I, personally, wouldn’t mind going to the carousel thing..or whatever it is, but I am not staying the night. Dude, are you nuts?” The rest of you nodded your heads in agreement.

“It says in the article that we are advised to leave before the sun sets.” You point out, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible in fear of breaking this mask of false confidence, when in reality, you were terrified of this place.

Soobin turned back and eyed you down disinterestedly. “Conclusion is that we’ll bring a small backpack, or whatever you guys want to pack, and we’ll stay there until eight. Deal?”

“Seven.” Hueningkai timidly said.

“Whatever you guys want.”

You hadn’t been able to sleep last night. It wasn’t due to fear of the place you were going, rather, you weren’t too excited about having to spend half of your day around Soobin.

What were you going to say to him? You were definitely overthinking at this point.

You know, they always say that the person one hates the most is the one that they also love most. And when Soobin flipped his blue hair back or cheekily smiled, showing his endearing dimples, you couldn’t help but…

No! You loathe Choi Soobin. You couldn’t stand his smile, or his hair, or his height. That evil moonwitch.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Speak of the devil (or moonwitch), you spotted a fluff of blue hair in your peripheral vision.

You couldn’t even muster up the courage to look back at him, merely nodding your head while staring at the white wall.

“Why aren’t you looking at me? Are you...scared?” You could see him wiggle his eyebrows as he made that statement.

That was it. You turned back at him. “Yes I am. I’m absolute terrified. I can’t stand the fact that I have to forcibly spend my precious time around you. It’s like I’m about to voluntarily live a nightmare.”

Woah there, calm down. You had smoke spurting out of your ears at this point.

Soobin’s once excited face fell into one of disappointment. “Yeah, it’s a nightmare having to be around you too. Gosh, the immaturity.” He left the room in haste as your eyes shot lasers through his well-toned back.

Maybe you had gone too far with the insult. He hadn’t been mean to you at all, really.

Then again, he had been mean. He took your place when you weren’t around. Suddenly, you were determined to get it back.

“Hop on the magic school bus!”

“Shut up, Yeonjun.” You deadpanned before leaning your head on his shoulder. The two of you were finally falling back into routine and you couldn’t help but bask in this nostalgia.

You also couldn’t help but notice how Soobin kept on looking through the rearview mirror at the both of you, pupils darting away once you locked eyes with him.

Man, this was going to be a long ride.

2021 © fluffi

157 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

Can you write a fic where Carlos is attacked while he is home alone and TK comes home after a shift and finds him super badly hurt?

holly's august extravaganza day 31: scars turn to memories

thank you anon! who else isn't ready for it to be september yet? i'm certainly not 😅 a masterlist will be coming out tomorrow with all fics listed. thanks so much for everyone's support this month, and i hope you enjoy this final fic (for august)!

thanks to @halsteadmarchs for the beta!

ao3 | 1.5k | angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, major character injury, knife violence

There’s someone in their bedroom.

TK is stuck in the doorway, just watching as the love of his life is brutally attacked in their bed, in their home. He tries to shout, to move, to do anything, but some invisible force is pinning him in place, making him a mere spectator to the horror show in front of him.

Carlos’s head rolls on the pillow, his eyes instantly alighting on TK. His lips move, though the only sound that comes out is a wet gurgle, followed by blood spilling from his mouth and down his chin. Tears drip hot down TK’s cheeks as he sees the desperation in Carlos’s expression, which soon morphs into confusion and then betrayal as TK doesn’t save him.

He can’t—he can’t—and he’s trying but the light is starting to fade in Carlos’s eyes and he’s dying, he’s dead, and TK still can’t move, he—

He wakes with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in bed. His heart is pounding and his face feels tight with drying tears, trembles wracking his entire body as the dream replays all too vividly in his mind. He’s been having the same one since that night four months ago, when he’d arrived home from shift to find Carlos…

To find him…

TK shakes his head, trying to shove the memories from his mind, but it’s a lost cause. He presses the heel of his hand hard into his eyes, but he can’t stop the tidal wave from rising up and claiming him, dragging him back into a waking version of his nightmare.

Their front door is open. It’s wide open, and the wood of the door frame is broken, splinters littering the driveway and the floor of the front room. TK’s heart stops in his chest as he surveys the scene, his brain going blank, struggling to comprehend what he’s seeing.

He takes a tentative step forward and peers into the darkness, slowly sliding his phone out of his pocket with a thumb on the home button, ready to call 911 at the slightest sign of movement.

Everything is quiet in the front room, not even a table setting out of place. TK creeps further into their home, his every nerve on edge as he barely breathes for fear of alerting whoever’s here of his presence.

And then—

Carlos.

TK barely remembers to be quiet as he rushes to the stairs, desperately praying that the intruder has left Carlos alone. He knows that Carlos is more than capable of defending himself, but he would have been in bed, maybe asleep and definitely alone; TK doesn’t want to imagine what might have happened to him.

But, as it turns out, he doesn’t have to. TK stops dead in the doorway to their bedroom, all the breath knocked out of him as he takes in the sight before him.

The room is a mess, lamps knocked to the floor, the bed in disarray, and dark stains cover their sheets.

And on the floor, spread-eagled in a pool of blood, lies Carlos, and TK feels his world crumble.

His hands won’t stop shaking. TK grips onto the kitchen counter as he waits for the coffee pot to finish and closes his eyes, breathing carefully. It’s like the anxiety started when he first caught sight of the open front door and then never left, latching onto him and growing like a weed.

He hasn’t really had a good day in months, but it seems like today is going to be an especially bad one. Nausea climbs up the back of his throat as he remembers the sensation of Carlos’s blood on his hands, sticky and warm and there was so much of each, every bandage he pressed to a wound being soaked through in seconds.

His body is almost bent in two, his forehead pressed against the counter as the panic of that night returns in full force, almost choking him. TK gasps, his entire body trembling, before he loses his grip and crashes to the floor, the sobs that have been building in his chest since the moment he woke up finally letting loose.

“Carlos! Carlos, baby, stay with me, please, please.”

TK blinks back tears as his shaking hands hold another bandage to one of Carlos’s many wounds, crying out in despair as it quickly turns red. It was his last one, and now he’s down to grabbing anything he can find to attempt to staunch the ever-increasing blood flow.

He thinks the 911 operator on the phone with him is trying to calm him down, maybe, but TK stopped listening a long time ago. His training has been the only thing keeping him focused; if he had to just sit here helplessly, TK thinks he would have lost his mind by now, though it can’t have been more than five minutes since he found Carlos.

TK knows, in the back of his mind, that it’s a miracle Carlos is still breathing. There’s so much blood… No-one can lose that much and be okay. They’re on borrowed time, every second of delay in getting Carlos to a hospital increasing the likelihood that he won’t make it out of this.

“Come on,” he begs, pressing down harder, as if he can force the life back into his husband. “Don’t die, please don’t die, not now.”

But his pleas are in vain; Carlos’s breath stutters and rattles, and then stops altogether.

A second later, the room is bathed in blue and red as the wail of sirens heralds the arrival of help.

He comes out of the flashback with a gasp, finding himself curled into a ball on the kitchen floor. TK sits up with a groan, resting his head against the cupboards and tries to figure out how to breathe again.

One, two, three, four, five, in through the nose.

One, two, three, four, five, out through the mouth.

One, two, three, four—

One, two—

One—

It’s pointless.

TK forces himself to his feet, chest still tight with anxiety, and staggers to the couch. He collapses onto it and stares sightlessly at the wall in front of him. It’s still mostly dark outside, only the barest slivers of light entering through the windows, and TK wishes he could go back to sleep.

He won’t try—he’s too scared of the nightmares for that—but he’s so tired. He hasn’t slept properly since that night; is one night without feeling his husband’s life ebb away under his own hands really too much to ask?

Is it too much to want just a few hours of peace to pretend that reality doesn’t exist?

“I can’t lose him, Dad,” TK whispers, curled in on himself in the waiting room of the hospital.

His dad rests a hand on the back of his neck, fingers gently brushing TK’s hair, but it brings little comfort. Usually, his dad’s hugs and gentle reassurances would work miracles—even after their house burned down, when TK was furious at him, he couldn’t deny that it calmed him, just for a moment, to relax in his dad’s embrace.

But now… Now, TK doesn’t think there’s anything in the world that could make him feel better.

He has no clear memories from the moment paramedics swarmed the house; all he can remember is the pain and dread as they worked on Carlos, the fear as TK gripped onto his husband’s hand in the ambulance, unable to stand the thought that this could be it.

“I can’t,” he continues, shaking his head. “I don’t—I won’t survive it.”

“We’ll get through this, son.” His dad squeezes TK’s neck gently, then moves his hand to rub circles on his back. “We will.”

But all TK can think is how grateful he is that his dad didn’t say something stupid, like “It’ll be okay.”

Because it won’t.

Nothing will, anymore.

A silhouette steps into TK’s line of sight, and then he’s being lifted, his body pliant to the shadow’s ministrations. He’s resettled against a strong chest, arms wrapping around him and a kiss landing on the top of his head.

“Did you dream about it again?” Carlos murmurs, rubbing a thumb over TK’s knuckles. The gesture is soothing, and it does more to loosen the knot in TK’s chest than anything else could.

He nods wordlessly, sitting up and raising a hand to Carlos’s cheek. The raised scar tissue is barely visible in this half-light but TK feels it clearly as he brushes his fingertips over the mark. His hand drifts down Carlos’s neck and to his chest, where even more scars litter his skin, and TK’s heart aches—but then, something incredible happens.

Carlos smiles.

He fucking smiles, his eyes understanding and sad and maybe a little haunted, but it’s full of love; the same love TK feels for him.

And it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

TK kisses him gently, briefly pressing their foreheads together before burrowing closer into his husband, his ear pressed to Carlos��s chest. And his heart is beating, strong and steady, just like it always has.

And everything is going to be okay.

51 notes · View notes

coulson-is-an-avenger · 3 years

Note

50 or 33 with jmart for the smooch prompt list :mimhonk.emoji:

#33 - An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it, and #50 - A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck. POR QUÉ NO LOS DOS!

thank you tem!!! :D I had a lot of fun with this one, and because of that it also got Long As Fuck so bear with me on that. Set in the safehouse also! Hope you enjoy ^_^

It’s been a very, very good day at the safehouse. The Lonely has been quiet, lurking almost entirely out of sight rather than clinging onto the both of them, and Martin’s been relaxed and open, happy in a way Jon hasn’t honestly seen him in months. The Eye has been quiet as well, and even Jon’s pain levels have been down today - no small miracle given the chilly weather - and it feels like a day for new beginnings, a day for truths.

So, “I missed you,” is what tumbles out over dinner, over beans and soup and tea.

Jon hears Martin’s breath catch before he sees it, before he looks up to see the stunned smile that takes over his face. “I missed you too,” he replies softly, and Jon pretends not to hear the crack in his voice where the unused muscle of emotion splits the air.

Jon holds his gaze for an admirable amount of time, but even he wavers. He’s never been a brave man, and he looks down at the table before speaking. “There were spiders, while you were gone,” Jon begins, tracing a finger along the grain of the table. “God, I really should have gotten more in the business of squishing them.”

“Yeah?” Martin offers, encouraging. The anecdote feels clumsy, foolish, but Martin is laying a hand across the table to show his patience, and Jon is grateful.

“I never quite could make myself do it though, I guess I just-” He trails off, starts a new thread of the story. “They always made me think of you, in a way. You always cared so much about all the little things. Always insisted on carrying them out. Dreadful things that still deserved kindness in your eyes.” Like me, he doesn’t add. “I always admired that about you. So I didn’t squish them as much.” He finishes clumsily, glancing up with a flash of his eyes before looking down at the table again to pick at the grain of the wood.

Martin blinks at him. Stares at him in silence for what Jon can only assume is an eternity, until he has to look up and make sure he’s still there. And then Martin stands, tea forgotten, maneuvers himself around the table, and darts in and presses his lips to Jon’s.

It only lasts for a moment - half a heartbeat of a touch - but it’s warm and vulnerable and a bit awkward and it sends Jon’s eyes flying wide open in shock.

Martin pulls back just as quickly as he had dived in, retreating so fast he bumps into the nearby counter, his eyes widening, and the first thing out of his mouth is “Oh, shit.”

Jon can’t blame him, he’s utterly dumbstruck himself. His head feels pleasantly fuzzy, but confusion swims up to trump every other emotion until the only thing he’s able to push out of his lungs is; “I- excuse me?”

Martin blinks, his panic floundering in confusion. “I- sorry, excuse you for what?”

Jon’s brows furrow together as he tries to piece his thoughts together. “You... don’t,” he says like it’s obvious, and then hesitates. “I-I mean, you- you said... you did, but not... so why-” Jon looks hopelessly out of his depth as he gestures, not making sense. “Why did you do that?”

Martin stares, the tips of his ears burning dark red. “I don’t what, Jon?”

Jon curls in on himself, shame bubbling to the surface. What has he gotten wrong? What has he missed? “I-in the Lonely. You said you loved me.”

Martin’s breath hitches at his own words repeated back at him - words he doesn’t even remember saying. The fog had been so intense, so much and yet so pointless all at once, it had been so hard to keep anything straight, to hold down any memory or emotion. He hardly remembers saying those words, but they draw a wobbly smile out of him anyways. He supposes it makes sense that he would say them, though. Not much could cut through the fog, but Jon did. Jon always did. He still does.

“Did I? I didn’t know I had it in me to share.”

Jon shakes his head, now looking frustrated. “But you didn’t.” He insists. “You don’t... that means you don’t anymore.” His expression stalls for a second, before something akin to horror blooms on his face, and he scrambles to his feet to face him. “Martin, if you think- God, if you think you somehow owe me this after all that, let me be abundantly cl-”

“No!! No, no.” Martin cuts in, sensing Jon’s building distress and moving away from the counter to rest a hand on his shoulder. “No,” he repeats, softer. He takes a deep breath and lets himself run his thumb over the fabric of Jon’s sweater. “I don’t think I owe you. Not in that way. Christ, of course not.”

Jon is silent for several long minutes, before his voice begins working again, and he stutters back into a sentence. “O-okay. Okay. Good.” He clears his throat. “Then why-? I-I-I thought-” He gathers up what brain power he has left to sort his thoughts. Something like hope tinges his voice, and Martin marvels at how deeply Jon seems to have resigned himself to this truth, while still being eager to save his life and run away with him all the way to Scotland. Love is a funny thing. When he speaks again, his voice is so, so quiet. “After the Unknowing, I thought I lost my chance. Thought you’d moved on. N-not that I would have blamed you, I just- but you-”

“Jon,” Martin says softly, ducking his head to catch his eyes. “I wasn’t quite myself in the Lonely. I didn’t mean that as an ending.” He breaks his gaze away, looks down at his own hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I was mourning something I thought I’d lost.”

“Oh,” The word escapes Jon’s lungs in a rush; several years worth of longing filling up his chest and squeezing his throat like smoke, making his eyes sting. “Oh, I’m sorry-”

“No, no,” Martin shakes his head. “That’s over now.”

Jon presses a hand to his eyes, breathing, letting everything settle in.

“Well. That certainly makes me feel foolish.”

Martin laughs, a free, wonderful sound that fills the air with electricity and warms Jon down to his bones. He realizes he’s staring at him, watching how his shoulders move with adoration, watching the joy radiate from him with nothing short of beauty. A moment of insane courage passes through Jon, and he moves his hand to cover the one Martin still has resting on his shoulder.

He steps closer. “Do you want this then? The way that I do?” His voice is eager, and he’s afraid to breathe.

Martin’s expression absolutely melts, and he sways closer. He Saw Jon in the Lonely, in all his hopeless lovestruck worry, so he knows what he means. “Yes,” he answers. “More than anything. I don’t-” he makes a pained face, and looks down, prepares himself for the undressing that comes before the acceptance of love. “I don’t know how okay I am. Don’t know how much of me is still me after everything with Lukas and- and well, everything, but...”

“I know what you mean,” Jon assures him, running his thumbs over his knuckles. “I’m not even human anymore.” He exhales, in the tone of a joke fallen flat.

Martin squeezes his shoulder. “Exactly,” he murmurs. “But I still want to try.”

“Martin,” Jon exhales, his voice thick and his eyes wet. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

Martin tugs Jon’s hand from where it’s resting atop his to press a kiss to his knuckles, and Jon laughs, a quiet little sound, and then he’s moving, leaning back into Martin’s space; his face growing blurry as he gets up close and presses their lips together again. He misses the mark just a bit, the kiss landing a little too high on his mouth, but Martin leans up into it, rearranging their positions, and just like that it’s perfect. Not earth-shattering, not magical, just perfect, in the way that only imperfection can be. Martin lets himself sink into it.

It’s gentle, sweet, and it makes Martin’s head buzz with disbelief. He breaks away to breathe, for a moment, just to wrap his head around what’s happening, and then Jon is tugging him back in, more intentionally this time.

Jon kisses very thoroughly, Martin soon learns with amusement. He furrows his brow and crowds himself into Martin’s space, curling his hands in his shirt, and he moves his mouth in time with Martin’s like he has a purpose to follow, like he’s devoting himself to studying him; focusing on each touch with crystal clarity. He has a single-minded doggedness about the whole thing, and Martin eventually relaxes and just lets himself be kissed, following along with gentle touches and barely held-back smiles.

He raises a hand experimentally to run through his hair, and Jon kisses him deeper in response; open mouthed and wanting, tasting what he can, allowing himself to bite his lip gently. That takes the breath straight out of Martin’s lungs, and the bitten-off sound he makes apparently encourages Jon even more, as he breaks away and kisses him down across his jaw, under his chin, and down the side of his throat.

It’s frantic at first, a desperate attempt to map out as much of Martin as he can in the time he has, but the sense of urgency starts to bleed out of him, and he ends up kissing gentler and gentler the longer he lingers, until eventually Jon’s just nuzzling his nose into his skin and wrapping his arms around him for a hug. The sigh that escapes him makes Martin’s heart clench.

“I love you,” he mumbles into Martin’s shoulder, and later the weight of this will settle on their shoulders. Later they will have to sit down and figure this out, this mess of personalities and supernatural entanglement, this terrible future of fear laid out before them, and the path forward they will choose to carve out together. But for now they can sink into this embrace and breathe.

Martin doesn’t say the words back, he’s not quite there yet, but he doesn’t need to. It’s enough, it’s more than enough to just be here, for Martin to press his nose into Jon’s hair, and smile until his face aches from it.

#HELLO GAY PEOPLE THIS IS SO LONG #i may be touch starved!#the magnus archives #jonmartin #tma fic #my writing #fic #kisses prompts #god they talk SO MUCH. i do NOT know how to write Tiny Snippets #mossy speaks #ANYWHO ENJOY

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You

Pairing: Harry Potter x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smutty-smut, swearing, fighting

Word Count:

A/N: my first smut lol be nice

Masterlist

It’s the day of Fleur and Bill’s wedding. Alone in Ginny’s room, I stand in front of her mirror, analyzing my appearance in this dress. Hermione picked it out at the store. She insists I look best in blue. I wasn’t sure about it being silk or the low neckline or the practically nonexistent back. At least it has straps, though they’re about as thin as pasta.

There’s a knock at the door behind me and a call over my shoulder for the person to enter freely. When I turn back to the mirror, I see Harry enter quietly. I swallow hard, clenching my jaw as I pretend not to care. He approaches me nervously, his hands in his pockets.

“You uh... you look really nice,” he compliments, look at my reflection by my side.

My eyes remain on the mirror as I mumble a soft ‘thank you.’

Harry sighs, picking up on my frustration. It rolled over to today after last night's bickering following dinner. Ron may have left it to slip that the ‘Golden Trio’ may be leaving any day now to search for Voldemort’s Horcruxes. Harry somehow failed to mention to me, his girlfriend.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, sounding frustrated. “Can we talk about this? I would like for us to enjoy tonight.”

His words are rational if we were discussing him forgetting a minor matter! Instead, we’re referring to him leave for weeks, perhaps months! We will have no form of contact! I won’t know if he’s dead or alive!

“No,” I answer sharply. “Talking about it will just make it worse,” I determine, turning to head out of the room.

Harry grabs my wrist, stopping me. “Wait-”

“Harry!” I snap at him, much to his surprise. Harry stands there wide-eyed, taken aback by my rash reaction. How does he think I felt after I learned that he’s putting himself on death’s doorstep. “Look,” I sigh, softening my tone. “I understand that you’re ‘The Chosen One,’ but we’re only seventeen! Things are steady at the moment, why must we rush it?”

“I have to do this!” Harry insists and I yank my wrist free of his hold. I pace away and he follows close on my heels. “Do you think I’m going to enjoy it? This won’t be a little holiday, Y/N, we’ll be hunting ways to destroy Voldemort!”

I whip my head around, eyes pricked with tears, “but I don’t you to go...”

Upon seeing my distressed state, his features soften. He reaches out to me, cupping either side of my face softly. “I know, my Love. I don’t want to leave you... believe me,” he whispers, caressing my cheek and I place my hands over his. “But it’s up to me to fix this. Everyone is depending on me.”

“Let me help you!” I try to reason with him.

“No, I can’t ask you to risk your life for me,” he refuses sternly, but I can tell it’s out of fear.

“You're risking your’s for me,” I argue. “For all of us!”

“That’s different!” His hands fall roughly as he turns his back to me.

“How?” I shout at him.

He can the most irrational person! For being ‘The Chosen One’ he’s rather stupid! Hermione would’ve been a better option in that pointless prophecy!

He spins toward me sharply and yells, “because I don’t have a choice! Because I love you!” He pauses, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stares into my eyes solemnly. “Because I love you...” He repeats in a whisper.

“I love you too,” I reply quietly, tears threaten to fall from my eyes. I can’t lose him. A world without Harry in it is a world I couldn’t bear to live in. “Please Harry, please let me go with you!” I practically beg.

He shakes his head, avoiding my gaze. “It’ll be dangerous Y/N. I... I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself if anything were to ever happen to you.”

“I can take care of myself!” I remind him in a hiss.

I hate how defenseless he sees me. I’m one of the most skilled witches in our class at Hogwarts, Dumbledore said so himself once.

“I know that!” He barks, hitting his boiling point. “But I want to protect you!”

I roll my eyes with a scoff, he can’t be serious! “Oh stop with that ‘me man, me protect woman’ bollocks, Potter,” I mock.

“Why can’t you just listen to me!” He yells at the top of his lungs, his face turning red.

“I’m coming!” I insist, not backing down as I add to this screaming match.

In a swift glide, Harry crosses the yards between us. He grabs both sides of my face and smashes his lips to mine hungrily. At first, the action catches me off guard and I struggle to shove him off of me. He merely wraps his arms around me, pressing me to his chest. Harry’s never done this before, this isn’t like him. He’s usually so hesitant and unsure of himself. I find myself melting into the feeling. I embrace the sensation and Harry grips my waist, his nails digging into my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Harry grabs the back of my legs and I jump to wrap them around his waist. Walking across the room, he then lowers me onto the bed.

“Merlin, you’re so stubborn,” he mutters against my lips as he raises the hem of my dress up.

“I’ve learned from the best,” I remark bitterly, still frustrated with him.

“Why must you be so hard all the time?” He insults, rising above me with a disdainful glare in his eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” I giggle, referring to a different kind of hard. Potter doesn’t scare me. Though I’ve never seen him this way, I’m still shaken. In fact, it excites me.

Furious with my reaction, he aggressively curling his fingers under my panties and yanking them down his legs. “You expect me to allow you to come with us when all you do is distract me!”

“That’s not my fault, Potter. You’ve always been too deep in your own head,” I tease, combing my fingers through his hair as he lowers himself down between my legs.

“You’re right,” he agrees surprisingly, peering up at me. “I should be deep inside you more often,” he smirks wickedly before disappearing between my legs.

My eyes flicker up to the ceiling as I feel Harry’s tongue brush against my core. At first, it’s a series of steady glides. He’s teasing me, making me want more. My hand brushes his brown curly locks back gently. Then, Harry picks up his pace unexpectedly, causing me to jolt from surprise.

“Godric fuck,” I curse, breathless from the sudden burst of pleasure.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he purrs against my core, making me shutter.

Harry’s nails dig into my thighs roughly, holding me in place as I struggle under his aggression. I had no idea Harry had this in him, it’s incredible. The sensation is all-consuming, I can’t get enough of it. I bite down on my lip, suppressing a sweet moan.

“Don’t do that,” he commands. “Moan for me, Baby.”

I peer down at him, thinking of everyone in the house. “But-”

His eyes narrowed at me in slits. “Do as I say,” he growls, moving up from between my legs to lay on his side next to me.

I swallow hard as Harry glides his fingertips down my body, watching them travel down to my core. His flicker up to my face as they enter me. My lips part with a gasp and I grip his forearm.

“That’s right,” he mutters in my ear. “I want you to cum for me.”

I moan, his action and words testing my willpower. His lips kiss my neck and suck at the skin, finding my sweet spot. My eyes squeeze shut and I feel myself slipping. He knows me too, it isn’t fair.

“Please Harry...” I whisper pleadingly

“Look who’s so compliant now.” I can feel his smile against my skin, “you want to?”

I hum, nodding my head slowly.

“Say it for me,” he instructs. “Beg for it.”

I remain silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He can’t win everything. Then, he begins pumping his fingers in and out of me faster. I gasp, reaching down quickly to stop it. He moves to hover over me, his fingers continuing their attack as his other hand wraps around my neck. He towers over me with a pleased smirk at my defenselessness.

“I won’t unless you say it,” he warns mockingly.

I squirm under his pressure, his fingers driving me closer to the edge.

“Say it,” he repeats.

“Fuck me dammit!” I bark, frustrated that he can make me get so close with little effort.

“There’s my girl,” he chuckles wickedly. “You needy needy girl.”

His attack ends as I hear him unbuckle his belt. I pant, catching my breath after everything. I was so close, dangerously close. I’ve never yearned for someone or anything more. I want Harry, need him. The best part, I’m fucking pissed at him and he’s pissed at me. We fucking hate each other right out and we’re taking our anger out on each other in the most glorious way.

Standing beside the bed, Harry glides his palm over my soaking core. My back arches off the bed as a quiet curse escapes my lips. He chuckles, rather pleased with him.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, Y/N,” he grins, grabbing me by the ankles and yanking me closer to him. “Just wait until I fill you.”

I roll my hips uncontrollably, needing him inside me. Merlin, I need him to fuck me hard. I need him to utterly wreck me with everything he has.

Harry teases my entrance with his tip, glancing between me and my core. Then, his eyes stay on mine as he glides into me slowly. My lips part as I suck in air sharply. He smirks mischievously, slipping his hand around my neck. Steadily, he keeps apace. I moan, getting used to the sensation and adjusting. Then, Harry increases his pace at a rapid rate, making me hiss. Pounding into me, he grips my neck tighter. I whimper, overwhelmed by the pleasurable and foreign pain.

“Scream for me, Baby,” Harry pants, relentless with his assault. “Scream my name for everyone to hear.”

“Fuck Harry,” I whine, running my nails down his back, likely leaving marks.

He moans in my ear, the sound causing my core to pulse. I wish I could hear it repeatedly.

“Just like that,” he breaths. “Louder!” Taking a fist full of my hair, he tugs it back.

I shake my head, everyone will hear us, then what? We’ll have embarrassed Fleur and Bill on their wedding day.

Irritated with my refusal, Harry starts rubbing circles over my clit as he thrusts into me relentlessly. A yelp escapes me uncontrollably, much to Harry’s satisfaction.

“You’re going to do as I say from now on,” he hisses, starring down at me as I squeeze my eyes shut. “You’re going to be a good girlfriend and respect me!”

“Fuck you, Potter,” I grumble, barely able to speak.

He chuckles mockingly, “you already are.” I feel the pleasure building up in my core. Godric, I hate how I’m angry with him, but he still manages to get me off. We were fighting just minutes ago! I fought him off but it was hard not to give in. The passion in the anger energized the need for him even more.

He’s hitting my G-spot relentlessly as he rubs circles over my clit. I’m so close, my walls tighten around Harry.

“That’s it Y/N, cum for me,” he orders. “I want you cum all over my dick.”

His words push me over the end, the pleasurable feeling pouring over me. Harry thrusts into me faster, intensify my high. My back arches off the bed as a deep moan falls between my lips. Harry starts at my neck, kisses down my front.

He groans as I cum on his hardness. “Fuck, I’m cumming,” he pants. “I’m gonna fill you up so much.”

Right as I begin to subside from my climax, Harry hits his point. He rolls his hips, his dick hitting depths new for both of us. I moan, relishing in the feeling as his cum fills my walls.

Harry falls to the bed beside me. The room falls silent as we recover, nothing but the sound of the two of us trying to catch out-breath. Well shit, that was by far the greatest shag I’ve ever had. I stare up at the ceiling, still trying to process everything.

“You’re staying,” Harry pants as if that means anything. He certainly knows how to ruin a perfectly good moment.

I scoff dismissively, whipping my head to the side to look at him. “oh I am so coming!”

“It’s going to be rough!” He starts arguing again. “You’re going to get hurt!”

I laugh at his reasoning, “if what just happened proves anything, it’s that I can handle a bit of roughness.”

“Y/N...” he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “I couldn’t bear losing you.”

Rolling onto my side, I cup his face gently and make him look in my eyes. “You won’t lose me. Now you know I don’t make promises, so I won’t. But, even if something does happen, I will always love you.”

With a soft nod, he kisses my palm and places his hand over mine. “I love you so much.”

There’s a comfortable pause as we stare into one another’s eyes, pondering the minutes. Harry reaches out and brushes his fingers through my hair comfortingly. Soon, we won’t have this and we don’t know what may happen. We’ll have to make the most of what we have now.

“What time is it?” Harry asks.

I check the clock on the nightstand. “Three forty,” I read before turning back to him. “Why?”

He scrunches his brows together up at the ceiling, deep in thought. “That gives us twenty minutes. We’d be cutting it pretty close.” He glances over at me with a cheeky grin. “What do you it again?”

“Oh please, Potter,” I giggle, already moving to straddle him. He grips my waist, steadying me. “We can do it in ten max.”

“God, I love you,” he grins, bringing me down for a kiss.

I think this time around won’t categorize as angry sex, but for the future, Harry and I wouldn’t mind if we bicker now and again.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #the weasleys #hogwarts #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fandom #hp marauders #hp #imagine #smut #harry potter smut

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