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twistnet · 2 years

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command [ horacio carrillo ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; new things are discovered late one night when the colonel comes to visit you in your office

⋯ PROMPT ; smut fifty — “i never thought you’d be into this”

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, smut [ making out, authority // sir kink, oral sex [ f ], unprotected p in v, slight aftercare ] + mature language

⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post // masterlist will be blocked

“and here i thought i was the only one who worked this late...” you comment from the doorway leading into the colonel’s office. horacio looks up from his mountain of paperwork, seemingly displeased by your presence until he notices the folder in-between your fingers, “you have something for me?”

you nod, stepping further into the room until your almost flush against his desk, “wire-tappers think that got something of interest a few hours ago, only got found it in my box minutes ago. was going to leave it on your desk for you to look at when you come in the next morning but you’re here and. - “

“you’re rambling, agent.” he muses, cutting off your run-on sentence as your face heats in embarrassment. you apologize, gaze dropping to the floor as you drop the folder atop his already growing stack, “i’ll... see you tomorrow, colonel.” you state, moving to get out of his office as quickly as you can to avoid further embarrassment.

you had harbored the smallest of crushes on the colonel since your first meeting -- where he had dismissed you as another american agent would couldn’t speak a lick of spanish, until you answered back to him in the same language, utterly shocking him and your colleagues before adding on, “oh, sorry... stupid american, right?”

the sentence quickly earning you points in javi and steve’s books as they quickly ushered you in their group with a bout of shared laughter over the incident. ever since, the colonel had been nicer to you. well, not as nice as he could, but he did treat you better than your partners.

you had packed dup your things after that, heading home for the night to sleep over your embarrassment and prepare for the night morning of paperwork and the possibility of a raid -- should the intelligence prove useful.

“something going on between you and carrillo?” javi questions from your side, causing you to look up from your spot with a confused look, “no... why do you ask?” sparing a glance towards the colonel, who’s gaze quickly tears away from you the minute your eyes make contact, “that! he’s been acting so weird today... and it only happens when you are around.”

“i stayed late, gave him that file intelligence didn’t finish scrubbing until midnight and went home after. so, i’m not sure what his deal is.” the two of you spared a glance back toward the leader of search bloc before simply shrugging it off and returning back to your work. and after another day of gathering information, you returned back to the office to do write-ups and get things settled for the day.

“you gonna stay late again?” javi questions from his desk, already glancing at the clock with a hesitant smile, “why? got somewhere to be?” you tease, knowing he had been ducking out the past few nights after steve had talked about getting home to be with connie.

javi only shrugged, “it’s not that big of a deal...” you scoff, throwing your pen down on your desk as you cross your arms over your chest, “it obviously is, if you keep wanting to leave before finishing your paperwork.” you state with a pointed look, as javi only chuckles deeply, “i always finish, carino. you should know that by now.”

you grimace at his words, throwing a crumpled piece of a paper in his direction, “stop being gross and just go see... whoever you have waiting on you.” you practically shoo him off and he thanks you with a wink before ducking out of the office. you continue to work, now in a blissful silence and work through most of the report before a knock sounds from the door, “another late night, carino?”

carrillo stands in the doorway of your office, and it takes your brain a moment to process his words, before you shake your head, “yeah... both steve and javi had matters to attend to, so if you’re looking for them, they’re long gone.”

“i wasn’t stopping by for them...” he states, walking further into the small office, noticing just how they managed to cram three desks into the small room. he takes a seat at the edge of your desk, looking over you with a strong gaze... almost as if he was studying you for a moment.

after a short moment, he speaks up finally, “do i make you nervous, agent?” he asks, sincerity flooding his tone as you gape up at him with a confused expression, “no, why would you think that?” you ask in return, prompting him to raise a brow down at you, effectively making you feel small under his gaze, “yesterday... you rambled. and i’ve never seen you do that before, least not with me. so i have to wonder if i did something to make you uncomfortable.”

you groan, face burying into your hands as you feel the embarrassment start to kick in once more, “no... you didn’t. i’m just... being an idiot, you know?” and based on the way he looks at you, he doesn’t understand what you mean and opens his mouth to question you again when you wave him off, “never mind... you didn’t do anything to make me uncomfortable; quite the opposite actually, but no. you’re all good.”

“quite the opposite?” now, he’s amused by the way you seemingly backpedal slightly and look up at him once more with a worried expression, “i meant...” you start to say until he silences you with a wave of his hand, “you need to be honest with me, carino. we work in the field together, we need to have each other's backs. do you understand?”

“yes...” you answer, gazing back towards his when his fingers quickly snatch you by your chin, “yes, what?” he growls in a commanding tone, eyes drilling into your own as you swallow harshly, “yes, sir.” a sharp moan leaves your lips, as his hands pause in place. brows furrowing as he attempts to make sense of your reaction, before a smile is stretching across his lips, "i never thought you'd be into that, carino"

his grasp on your chin drops, and he’s quick usher you out of your chair, and pressing your chest against the top of your desk in a simple motion. he picks up on the hesitation you show when his hand presses between your shoulder blades, “is... this alright with you, carino? you want this just as much as i do, yes?”

it takes you a moment to formulate the correct words, mind still spinning from the sudden turn of events between you and the colonel. your lick your lips, eyes straining to look at where he hovers above you, “i want this... more than anything...” the words flow out in a whisper, yet he hears them as plain as day.

horacio hums softly, hand ghosting down your spine before he holds at your waist, squeezing gently as he presses himself into the curve of your ass, letting you feel his already hard cock straining against the fabric of his fatigues. your feet shuffle, a strangled moan leaving your lips before horacio peers over at you once more, “would you rather be on your back, agente?”

“yes...” you quickly answer, instantly feeling the pressure lift from your back before hands guide you up to a standing position. he waits patiently as you get settled back atop the desk, letting you get comfortable before he’s sliding between your legs and kissing your deeply.

hands tight grip the front of his uniform shirt, twisting the fabric between your fingers as he practically swallows you, tongue dipping into your mouth with little resistance to taste you. not stopping the moan erupting from your throat as a hand comes to rest at the side of your neck, rough pad of a thumb brushing over the front of your throat -- pressing lightly.

horacio pulls back from your lips, eyes twinkling slightly at the sigh of your bruised and abused lips, before his ripping through the front of your shirt, and the jeans that drove him crazy every time you accompanied search bloc on a raid, “you in these jeans... dios mío... que van a ser la muerte de mí.” he husks against the shell of your ear, hands already pushing the unclasped jeans down the length of your legs.

“muy bonito...” he compliments, finger ghosting over the lace fabric of your panties before he’s hooking them off to the side, and dropping to his knees, thick arms slide under your thighs, pulling you to rest just on the edge of the desk. without much of a warning, his tongue slid through your folds.

you curse loudly, and in that moment, horacio is thankful for waiting until the embassy was empty before approaching you in your office. however, the way your fingers quickly thread through his locks and blunt nails dig into his scalp, he can’t bring himself to care if a single person was still in the building. he wasn’t wasting this opportunity.

there’s a soft whispering of something as he hums against into your cunt, and while you aren’t able to make out what he says, it’s easily understandable in the way he presses his tongue into your fluttering cunt to feel you tremble under his touch.

eyes lock with your own as he broadly licks up your center, lips closing around your clit causing your spine to arch. the growl emitting from his throat as you pull at his curls and gasp in pleasure only warms and tightens the coil building in your belly.

he eats you out like a man starved, taking his time to taste and feeling you for all you are, driving you crazy as his tongue prods at your entrance, arms dragging you closer to push his tongue into you. his nose nudges against your clit with each flick of his tongue along your walls. hips hitching up to meet his strokes, grinding your pussy against his lips as he groans, sending vibrations straight to your core.

again, he utters something else in spanish -- nothing your ears are able to pick up on before he’s alternating between quick flicks of his tongue over your swollen bud of nerves and large, broad strokes over your folds. he tightens his grip on you in the slightest, so he can fasten his lips to your cunt and suck.

“fuck... i’m gonna come...” you whimper out, arm almost giving out at a particular flick of his tongue. he only chuckles in response, shooting sparks up your spine, “ask me...” he utters from between your legs, loud enough to break through the haze fogging your brain, “can i... please come?” it’s almost pathetic in how you ask, yet horacio manages a to raise a brow up at you, “. volver a intentar.”

you groan in frustration, fist hitting the desk in anger as you work to form the words correctly this time around, “please... can i come, colonel?” you try once more, catching the fire that builds in his eyes at the name. and after a few more flicks of his tongue, he smiles against your cunt, “come, querida.”

at his words, the heat that had been building in your stomach snaps, and you fall over the edge. sobs rock your form as your orgasm washes over you, horacio moving to stand the second notices you arm almost giving out, and he quickly gathers you into his arms. a soft kiss pressed against your temple, a hand roaming along your back in comfort as you come down from you high, “want to continue?” he questions after a moment, looking down at you with a serious expression.

you swallow harshly, taking a deep breath before meeting his gaze and nodding, “yes... i want to.” horacio smiles, hands dropping from your form to work his pants open, and pull his cock from its confines. there’s a short moment where you’re mesmerized by the sight of him, yet it’s short lived as he strokes himself a few times, and guides the head of his cock through you wet folds, “dios mío...” he groans, before slipping his cock into your awaiting hole.

arms quickly wrap at his shoulders, head resting against his chest as he fills you in one fluid stroke, pausing for a time to let you adjust to his size -- an almost painful task as he relishes in the warmth and tightness surrounding him.

“move...” you grit out, whimper as his hips draw back slowly for the first time since entering you, before sliding back in completely. you moan into his chest, letting him work you up to a languid pace, heated breath fanning against the skin of your collarbone as he thrusts into you each time. making sure to brush against that sweet spot deep inside you.

you grasp at his shoulders, looking for something to ground you as the coil tightens once more, and your orgasm already edging closer to snapping once more. and slowly getting closer with each thrust.

he hears you blabble incoherently against his shoulder, and based on the way you impossibly tighten around him, he knows you’re closing to coming once more. yet, his pace never falters or picks up -- knowing this is what’s going to bring you both to completion, and with on final thrust, you come around his cock with a muffled scream as robes of cum fill you.

once again, he holds you close to him as you come down from your high. breath evening out until you’re shifting and making a disgusted face, “my desk...” you complain, grimacing at the mess stuck to the wood and some papers -- one’s you hoped weren’t super important.

“perhaps i should have picked a better place...” horacio trails off, making a face as he notices the slight mess before he’s leaning over to grab a few paper napkins to clean you up as best as he can before helping you back into your clothing. your button down is ruined from the exchange, but you can’t complain too much, as it wasn’t your pants or underwear, “i should probably head home...”

“i’ll walk you out.” horacio smiles, waiting until you’ve packed up the last of you bag before ushering you out towards your car with a hand at the small of your back. leaning against the passenger window frame just as the engine turns over, “this isn’t a one time thing, querida. i promise next time, there will be something more comfortable than your desk.” he promises, watching as you smile, “it’s okay... i kinda liked it.” the statement surprises him for a moment before a small smile appears on his lips and he nods, taking note before waving you off to head home.

the next morning, you find both of your partners looking over the office space with a displeased looks, “what's going on?” you question, trying tog et a peak over their shoulders to see what’s going on. steve makes a noise of discomfort as his arms tighten in their crossed form, “someone had sex in our office last night... left a mess.” javi makes a face, kindly thanking the cleaning staff as they exit the office area and letting you return to your desks, “people are animals sometimes, i swear.” steve comments from his desk, already afraid to touch things in fear of his desk having something on it.

you keep quiet about the situation, letting your partners think something completely different, or at least until you are able to come forward with... whatever your relationship with carrillo now is. but you do enjoy the way their faces scrunch up with each shuffle of papers. knowing it would make a good joke to the colonel later that day.

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hops-hunny · 3 years

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Just a Touch Away

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4k

Request: Not necessarily?? A few people did ask for this though and who am I to deny you of that?

Summary: Part two of Just a Flight Away

Warnings: Sex, just sex. There’s fluff too, a good lil 50/50.

A/N: The fact that this is longer than the original makes me fucking laugh cause how tf did that even happen?? Hope I didn’t disappoint. I also got lazy half way through editing so only like the first 2k words are edited.

Neville was beyond ecstatic to be walking hand in hand with his girlfriend. It was better than anytime his mind would wander to it during the day and anytime it’d lull him to sleep at night. He looked down at her, watching as her eyes looked at everything in amazement. It reminded him of his first year at Hogwarts, wide eyed and full of curiosity of all there was to be explored. (Y/n) seemed to be soaking it all in as if she took even the smallest of blinks, everything would vanish before her eyes.

“It’s a pretty place, isn’t it?” He started off, catching the girl’s attention. She looked up at the tall lanky Gryffindor smiling at him. God he couldn’t believe that such a doll was his. This was his girlfriend.

“Yeah! It’s amazing! I love how tall the ceilings are and all the intricacies such as the carvings around the walls and floors, the big open windows, it’s all to die for!” She exclaimed, bouncing up and down a bit. How could one girl be so cute? Neville knew that if she asked, he’d do absolutely anything she wanted without a second thought. Anything she wanted and needed he would give to her at the drop of a hat.

“Yeah, that’s not even the most magical part. No matter where you go in the castle, you can find something new almost every time. Be it a hallway, room, whatever.” he stated, smiling as the girl gasped in amazement.

“We have to explore then some time while I’m here! However, today I wanna spend time with you doing you know,” she started, looking away as she was overcome with shyness, “Doing couple things.” Neville felt his heart swell at her words, trying his best not to drown her in all of his affection.

“Of course, petal. We can do whatever you want today! How bout I take you to Honeydukes and then we end the day off with the greenhouse? I know you wanted to see that first but trust me when I say it’s even more of a beauty during the evening than it is at this time.” He said, reaching down to push a bit of her hair out of her face. He laughed some as her eyes lit up at the mention of the sweets shop. When Neville and (Y/n) would send each other things, Neville would send her treats as much as possible. He had learned early on about the girl’s large sweet tooth and second stomach for dessert.

“That sounds amazing! You know how much I love treats!” she said, clapping her hands as she began to jump more. Neville looked at her fondly as he watched her fit of excitement but quickly stopped as he noticed her frown. “I don’t have the right currency to buy things yet though. I still only have dragots. That’s okay, we can j-”

“Did you really think I was going to make you pay, flower? What kind of man would I be to invite you out and not pay? I insist, shop to your heart's content today.” He said, reaching down to stroke her cheek. She leaned into his touch, smiling up at him.

“I love you, Nev.” she mumbled, closing her eyes in content from the warmth that radiated from his hand. Neville felt his breath hitch as he looked down at her, face flushing a bright red. It wasn’t the first time they had said it to each other. Sure, they ended their letters with it more often than not but to hear it from her voice? A voice that was so beautiful, so full of love, aimed towards him? She was making it really hard for him not to just have his way with her right then and there.

“Oh angel, I love you more. Come here.” He pulled her closer, bending down to rest his forehead on hers, smiling as he leaned in to kiss her. The (h/c) haired girl met him halfway, smiling into the kiss as she wrapped her arms around her neck. He continued to kiss her, deepening the kiss before remembering that they were quite literally in the middle of the hallway. He pulled away, placing a quick chaste kiss on her lips. Confusion took over (Y/n)’s face as she looked around them. In different parts of the hallway, a few guys were looking in their direction. “What is it, darling?” he questioned, grabbing her hand as he continued to walk. She simply dismissed his question, offering him a soft smile as he guided her towards the nearest castle exit. That’s when he started to hear it. It wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

“God she’s a right fitty, isn’t she?”

“Yeah I mean look at the ass on her. She’s one of those Ilvermorny girls.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Looks straight outta Beauxbaton.”

“Longbottom’s a fool, I would’ve had my way with her as soon as she stepped out the train.”

Neville felt his jaw clench, trying to calm himself down. He had to get them out of here before (Y/n) heard, because if she had? Those guys would see exactly why he was put in Gryffindor in the first damn place. “Petal, do you want a piggyback ride? I know you mentioned wanting one in a few of your letters. Come on, hop on.” he said, bending down some so she could get on. (Y/n) felt her eyes light up at the idea. She took a large running start before jumping on the boy’s back, squealing as he lifted her up. Neville secured her on his back, biting his lip at the feeling of her plush thighs filtering between his fingers. They felt heavenly, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to what they’d feel like wrapped around his- they had places to be. He didn’t want his precious girl to hear anything that those twits were saying about her so quickly he took off down the hallway, smiling as the girl laughed, tightening her arms around his neck.

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(Y/n) gasped as her eyes zoomed in various places all around Honeydukes. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She ran to various different snacks, reading the packages of them. “Look Nev, look! These look sooo good. They’re strawberry flavored! I love strawberry.” she said, holding up the box of snack cakes in his face. Neville laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm for sweets.

“I’ve had those before. They’re quite good! I think you’ll enjoy them ‘specially since you like strawberry so much. Do you wanna get them?” he questioned. (Y/n) pondered, humming slightly before nodding, setting them in his hands. She wondered how he could contain himself, especially when there were so many sweets around! Who wouldn’t wanna buy practically the whole store?

As they walked around the store, (Y/n) would occasionally find something else that piqued her interest, ask Neville’s opinion on it, and then throw it in his arms. She did this numerous times until she realized how full his arms were. The tower of sweets and treats almost covered his face. However, she couldn’t help to admire how his arms flexed and tensed under his shirt only imagining how nice they’d feel-

“Are you done, petal? It’s okay if you’re not! You can get a few more things, I just wanna get back to the greenhouse before it gets too dark.” he explained, turning to the side so he could see her face.

“Yeah, I’m done! Are you sure this is okay? This is a lot of stuff Nev.” she questioned, biting the inside of her cheek guilty.

“Nonsense! Nothing is too much for you, flower. Let’s get going, I’ve got a few plants that I need to water in about,” he set the treats down on the counter before looking at his watch, “30 minutes. Perhaps you can help me?”

“I’d love to! You know that’s my favorite part of growing plants is the watering part. It’s almost like you can see them do a little happy dance when you do! Well, some of the more animated plants quite literally do but you get what I mean!” she rambled on, quickly latching onto his arm once more. Neville listened to her, grabbing the bags as they began to walk out of the door only for him to bump into Malfoy himself. Great.

“Ah I see, loneliness has stricken you again huh Longbottom? I don’t know what all those treats will do for that!” He snickered out, high fiving Crabbe and Goyle. Neville rolled his eyes, frankly quite done with the bloke. He didn’t give him that same sense of fear as when he was younger. In fact, now he found him to be quite annoying.

“Actually they aren’t for him, they’re mainly all for me! Neville’s personal pick is just this little box right here.” she said, holding up the small box before placing it back in the bag. (Y/n) had to stop herself from letting out an audible gag as the blonde’s eyes traveled up and down her frame.

“You must be Neville’s American cousin, right? I-”

“Didn’t ask. Come on babe, let’s go.” The small girl said, dragging her boyfriend along with her. Draco stood there in shock as the two walked off still in amazement in how Neville had such a hot American girlfriend already.

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“Woah! I’ve read about this plant actually. Even had a small personal one of my own.” The (h/c) haired girl said, positioning the magnifying glass up and down around the leaves to view it better. Neville whipped his head towards her in excitement.

“Really? Wait, had?” he asked, watching as the girl shrugged sheepishly.

“Yeah, turns out it wasn’t really suited for the climate in America. Such a shame though! She was a real beauty.” She said, still not looking up at the plant. Neville smiled at her fondly, walking closer to her as he stood behind her.

“Yeah, she is.” he muttered, wrapping his arms around her waist as he turned her around.

“Something tells me we’re no longer discussing plants.” she joked, wrapping an arm around his neck as she brought the other to stroke his cheek. He leaned down hovering his lips above hers.

“I’m afraid we aren’t.” he closed the gap between them, kissing her with all the anger, all the passion that had built up over the day. He was tired of it, tired of men speaking about her like he wasn’t right fucking there. Obviously that wasn’t his sweet flower’s fault but god was he furious. He took one of his hands, trailing it from her waist to the underside of her skirt. With one hand he flipped it up and with the other he began to grip and prod at one of her cheeks harshly. He trailed his free hand up to her jaw, holding it tightly as he pulled away from the kiss leaving a trail of saliva in its path. “Do you want to-”

“Yes.” she cut him off, taking one of his hands and leading it under her shirt. He moved his large freckled hand up her torso until he reached her breast. His eyes widened as he felt the lack of bra.

“You little minx.” he sneered, gripping her ass in both of his hands as he sat her on top of the working table. He pushed her shirt above her breast, watching as her nipples began to harden from the cool air. Neville got on his knees pulling the girl to the edge of the table. He couldn’t help but pause and admire how beautiful she was. The setting sun reflected off of her sweaty (s/c) skin making it appear as if she was glowing. The shadows and light hit the parts of her soaking panties, revealing just how wet her cunny was. Neville let out an audible groan at the sight, adjusting his tightening pants. “God you’re bloody gorgeous. Look at you baby, all soaked just for me?” He ran a finger over her cloth covered slick, smirking as the girl jumped a bit letting out a soft whimper. “Let me treat you, yeah?” he whispered against her clothed cunt before ripping her panties down and stuffing them in her back pocket (He certainly was not giving those back).

His eyes were glued to the sight in front of him. It was more beautiful than any photograph that she had sent. No matter how many times she had written to him about how wet she was, nothing could prepare him for the true extent to what it was. The entirety of her pussy was covered in slick, running down her folds and now onto the table. He watched as her pretty little hole clenched and unclenched around nothing practically begging to be filled. But he couldn’t just yet, he had to do what he had been dreaming of for years. He moved a steady hand forward rubbing her clit in circular motions before licking a fat strip across her slit as he began to suck on her clit. (Y/n) gasped, bringing a shaky hand down to his head pushing him in forward and, who was Neville to deny her? Sure, Neville lacked experience severely. They both did. But he’d be damned if he came up from between her legs without giving her an orgasm first.

Neville took his middle finger, gathering a bit of her juices on it before slowly sinking it inside of her. He began to pump it in and out, making sure to be gentle and slow while maintaining a steady pace. (Y/n) threw her head back, letting out a cross between a whimper and a moan. It wasn’t like she hadn’t pleasured herself before, she had...numerous times. Sometimes even multiple times a day. But god his fingers? They were so much thicker than hers, so much longer touching and hitting spots she didn’t know were possible. “A-another please.” she whimpered, bucking her hips onto his face. Neville looked up at her, humming around her clit in agreement before he slid in another digit into her tight hole. He felt his dick strain against his pants more at the sound of her moans but he could ignore it. This wasn’t about him right now, it was all about him pleasuring his perfect girl.

“Do you like that, pretty? Hm? Like when I get my fingers covered in you.” He muttered against her, groaning as she clenched around his fingers. He drove them deeper keeping with his slow pace. Neville didn’t want to rush this, he wanted to appreciate the girl who he loved, the girl who kept him up late into the night as he stroked one out. He knew they would share many intimate moments in the months to come but he definitely wanted their first to be the most memorable.

He continued to lick and suck on her bud, pulling away every so often to lick at the stray juices that ran down her folds. “Just one more, pretty. I’ve gotta make sure you’re nice and stretched out for me.” she nodded lazily at his words, feeling herself growing closer and closer by the second. (Y/n) was in such a state of euphoria, never wanting it to end. She let out another strangled moan as Neville slid in a third finger, scissoring them a bit before beginning to make a come hither motion within her. The tips of his fingers rubbed against her spot sending her into a fit of nonsense phrases and words, the most recognizable of them being “please, please. Yes, yes, yes!” which only encouraged him further. With more force he repeatedly began to jab at her g-spot growling as the girl came apart above him. (Y/n) gasped, falling back onto the table as her body grew tense, releasing all over Neville fingers. She continued to moan as her arousal slipped past his fingers running down the table as the boy fingered her through her high. Neville pulled his fingers out, stretching them apart as he stared at the arousal that was connected between the spaces. He stuck his fingers in his mouth, letting out a soft moan at her taste. Just as sweet as he had pictured it.

After a few moments of heavy panting, (Y/n) felt a bit better and decided to sit up. Her (e/c) eyes trailed down her lover’s body as they reached the bulge in his pants. ‘If it’s that big through his pants, I don’t even want to imagine how big it is out of them!’ she found herself thinking. No wonder he had used three fingers, she wasn’t even sure that that was enough. She reached both her hands out, beginning to unfasten his belt pulling down his pants before freeing his member. She held back a gasp as she watched it slap up against his lower abdomen. Neville’s cock was a shade darker than him, it had no curve to it but it didn’t matter. He made up for a lack of curve with the sheer girth of his cock alongside the length (which was most definitely half of her forearm, if not more). She took a deep breath before hopping off of the table and kneeling before him.

“What’re you doing, love?” he asked, reaching a hand down to stroke her cheek.

“Returning the favor?” she replied as she reached a hand forward to grasp him. She looked at him confused as he lifted her back up, setting her back on top of the table.

“You can do that some other time. Right now is about pleasuring you.” he said, moving his lips to her neck as he began to suck and kiss along it leaving a trail of marks in its wake.

“A-are you sure? What about you? I’d feel bad that I’m not pleasing you in return.” a soft frown took over her face. Neville grabbed her face softly, tilting it towards his own.

“Oh darling, taking care of you brings me a greater pleasure than anything you could give me. Tonight is about you so let me just take care of you, yeah?” he asked, looking into her eyes full of love and a deep amount of arousal. She sat there unsure before nodding, leaning up to capture his lips. Neville returned the kiss, trailing the hand that was against her face to wrap gently around her neck. He pulled away, tugging her lip with him. “I’m gonna put it in now. Are you ready?” he asked, lubing himself up with the reminisce of her first orgasm.

“Please be gentle.” she whispered, hiding her face in his neck as he pushed his tip against her entrance.

“‘Course love. I’ll do my best.” he placed a kiss on the top of her head before beginning to sink into her. He let out a hiss at the tight heat of her velvety walls. When he was in enough, he brought both his hands up to embrace her, whispering soft phrases of encouragement as he slid into her tight hole. He couldn’t help but feel guilty at the sound of her whimpers and cries, feeling awful that he was the cause of it. After what felt like ages, his pelvic region finally met with her mound. He pulled back gazing at the sight as he let out a soft moan.

“Y-you can move now. Feels good.” she stuttered out, gasping as he pulled out some. Neville thrusted into her deeply to test the waters, watching her facial expressions. He felt himself grow relieved when he saw how deep in pleasure she was. Her eyes were clenched shut, chest rising and falling quickly. He took that as a sign to continue, thrusting into her deep and slow. He gripped her hips tightly, deepening the intensity of his thrusts. The boy was absolutely enamored. How could she be so cute in such a filthy state? Tongue lulled out the side of her mouth, hair tousled messily as sweat covered her delicate skin. Seeing her in such bliss only fueled his need to please her, to see her come undone beneath him. He continued to pound into her, every thrust filled with passion.

“You’re so fucking pretty, angel,” he growled out leaning down to capture her breast in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, nibbling softly before pulling away and doing the same to the other one. (Y/n) continued to let out a string of moans, tightening her grip on the Gryffindor's back. She couldn’t help but dig her fingers into the flesh of his back, trying to ground herself as her lower region received immense amounts of pleasure. She let out a cry of gratification as he began to rub at her clit with circular motions, digging her heels into his lower back. “God just look at you. You feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. Who’s making you feel this good?”

“Y-you Nev! S-so good. It’s so deep, so big.” she whimpered as she began to feel hot tears form in her eyes. “Love you so much, I love you!” she sobbed, resting her head on her chest. It was all too much, too good for her to handle. Neville cooed at her adoringly continuing to thrust into her. “C-close….”

“Hold it for just one second of love. Let’s cum together.” He grunted. After a few moments, he felt a familiar pit in his stomach signaling his release. His thrust began to grow sloppy, hips stuttering but as he went to pull out, the girl stopped him.

“Please don’t. I’m on birth control. Want you to cum inside of me, want you to fill me up.” Neville gripped at her hips harder, pistoning them with an animalistic amount of pace. The moans of them both echoed off the greenhouse walls as they both released, collapsing against one another. (Y/n) shuddered, whimpering at the feeling of his thick seed spilling inside of her. It seemed nonstop, pouring and pouring deeper inside of her, dribbling out past him and onto the table.

Neville let out a breathless chuckle at the sight, feeling a sense of pride at the fact that it was his seed dripping out of her. No one else. Not Malfoy, not his idiot friends, and certainly not those morons from in the hallway earlier. He stroked her skin gentle, watching as she shuddered at his touch. “Sorry love, it seems I left quite the mark on your neck.” he mumbled, brushing his fingertips along the healing mark he had left. It was a big purple hickey, the same shade as the bruises on her hips.

“S’okay. I’ll have something that reminds me of you. I think I accidentally gave you one too when I came. I couldn’t help myself.” Neville viewed his reflection in the small hanging mirror across the room. Moving his long shaggy hair to the side, he saw a small reddish bruise, the indent from her teeth still visible.

“It’s a shame that I didn’t get to show you the rest of the plants you wanted.” he frowned. He had totally forgotten that was the entire reason they had come to the greenhouse today. Neville wanted his girl’s first day at Hogwarts to be absolutely perfect in every way and he had ruined it in his own fit of selfish greed.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, sitting up. She winced slightly but continued on. “This was way better than any sort of plant! Nothing says ‘welcome to Hogwarts’ like what we just had.” Neville let out a breath that he wasn’t even aware he had been holding.

Even though this was the first day of them meeting in person, he knew this was the girl for him. As the sun set and they both held each other in their arms, the pair couldn’t help but wonder what was in store for them. What adventures lie ahead? Only time could tell. But luckily they didn’t have to spend another minute apart. (Y/n) was no longer just a flight away, but a mere inches apart.

#Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #neville longbottom x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines

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myonepiece · 3 years

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Hello 😳 so I saw your post about Kyoshiro and Bartolomeo with a clingy short fem!S/O who's also a scary cat, and let me tell you, that post AWAKENED something inside of me 🤤💞 so I would like to request a King, Sanji, and Mihawk with clingy short fem!S/O who's also a scary cat if your request are still opened that is 😚👉👈 thank you in advance, and you can ignore this request if you want. I hope you have a good day or night luv 😚💗

King, Sanji with a clingy short fem!S/O who’s a scaredy cat

King x Reader, Sanji x Reader

Description: King & Sanji (seperate) with a short fem!S/O who is clingy and gets scared easily + oneshot/drabble with her getting scared and hiding behind character

Warnings: very mild implied sexual harrassment (in King’s oneshot), mild cursing

A/N: I’m so glad you liked it, it was so fun to write! 💐 (I love how you used so many emojis in your request) and I hope it’s okay I only did sanji and king, it’s just that this situation ends up fairly long 💕

*for King let’s say you’re around his height, the top of your head is a little above his waist

King is definitely not the most affectionate person, he’s not a fan of PDA other than having you sit on his lap. if you get too physically affectionate (which is very) then King will warn you in a stern voice to stop, and if you don’t then he’ll move you away or simply place you on the ground and push you away

in private he’s more okay with you being clingy, still not the fondest though

he has nothing against your height, he (secretly) finds it adorable and he likes to watch you walk around the Beast Pirates crew because he finds it amusing to see the height differences between you and everyone else, your height is another reason he prefers having you stay on his lap often or at least have you right next to him- he’s worried someone (Kaido) will step on you

he also likes the way your hand looks on him, whether it’s resting on his arm, his chest, or his own hand, he always stares at the interaction and admires how precious and sweet you look

he sometimes finds your cowardness irritating, but even as he scolds you or strictly teases you for being scared so easily, he’s happy that you come to him to feel safe- honestly he never thought someone would feel safe with him nor did he want someone to until he met you

and after he scolds you he always pushes you away or behind him so he can handle whoever messed with his angel (usually it’s Queen, he likes messing with King and one of the most effective ways to do that is to mess with you) he also uses his wings as somewhat of a shield for you, providing cover usually

+ oneshot

You tentatively walked through the dimly lit hall in the Beast Pirates base, the cold stone chilling the air around you and creating a slight echo of the patter of your shoes.

keeping your eyes trained on the ground while a few lesser crew members passed you, you followed the little cracks in the stone, branching out and creating intricate patterns- your eyes fell upon a pair of shoes and you froze midstep, looking up and perceiving Queen staring down at you, an unsettling smirk contorting his face

you smiled slightly up at him, trying to step around him and continue only to be stopped by his hand reaching out and tilting your head to look at him, the touch seding shivers down your spine, the bad kind of shivers

it wasn’t unusual for Queen to mess with you, enjoying your disturbed and fearful reactions as the sadistic man he is, and the reaction he gets from King is pure gold to him- he enjoys making King get protective so he can tease him for being so smitten

“______, how bout you come with me! some of the crew are going to sumo wrestle! come see their heads pop off!”

Queen laughed at your unsettled expression before leaning down a bit and blowing smoke out into your face,

“or maybe I should snap the collar on you an’ throw you into the ring”

you gasped, causing Queen to chortle in amusement- you took the moment of his distraction to move away from his touch and scurry off down the hall, hearing Queen call after you in a mocking tone and follow in pursuit

you hurried through the halls and spotted King at the end in the large room at the end, he stood at the table conversing with Jack, though clearly uninterested with the subject

you picked up your pace and your heels clicked against the ground alerting King, who knew you are the only one who wears shoes that make that sound. he turned to the entrance happy to have something to do other than play with Jack, but he didn’t like the worried expression on your face- nor Queen rounding the corner after you having all too familar mischievous expression on his lips.

scurrying into the room, you ran over to King and hid behind his large wings. his glare never left Queen as the large man entered the room and moved towards where you stood huddled against King’s wings, stopping in front of the armored man and taking a long drag on his cigar.

“what are you doing you moron”

Queen laughed at King’s protectiveness already showing, finding amusement in his crewmember’s smittenesque.

“I was inviting her to play a game you jackass!”

he laughed heartily at King’s insulted and angry expression. your boyfriend took a step forward, now only a few feet away from Queen- the atmosphere in the room grew tense and Jack was watching with wary eyes matching yours as you watched the two calamities square up, both ready to strike if it came to it. but King is observant, he saw that Queen had no intention of hurting him, he simply wanted to scare you and get a rise out of him.

he scoffed and turned begrudgingly back to you, moving to take a seat at the table and lifting you onto his lap with ease. you settled against his steel covered chest, still slightly shaking from Queen’s scare- King’s eyes narrowed at Queen when he chuckled again and sat in the chair between King and Jack, throwing a wink in your direction. King visibly flinched and his behind left the chair momentarily before returning, remembering that’s what Queen wanted- and you were safe on his lap.

Sanji is super clingy himself, he has no problem at all with your affection and neediness. he’s always more than happy to hug you or cuddle you or kiss you, it’s one of his favorite things to do- he’s constantly asking himself how he got so lucky to have a girl like you

one of the things Sanji finds most adorable about you is your height, no matter what you do Sanji thinks you’re the cutest thing ever, he’s always offering to carry you, he always pulls you onto his lap- back hugs are another one of his favorite things because your body is so much smaller than his own and he thinks it’s adorable how perfectly you fit in his embrace, and don’t even get him started on how cute your hands look holding onto his hand

your slight cowardness gives him an excuse to hold you even more, he offers his hand or arm for you to hold, and whenever you grab onto him he has to fight back the squeals and focus on the problem at hand, making sure you feel safe and are completely out of harm’s way

+ oneshot

the island you docked at had a quaint little town, small but bustling with life- you had gone to look at a store for some new clothes. unfortunately you couldn’t find anything and you had to head back to the ship empty handed. to make things even worse, while you were watching the ground you bumped into someone, who happened to be much bigger than you and piss drunk.

“oi! what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, stuttering out an apology that only seemed to make the man madder.

“you need to fucking watch where you’re... you’re going”

he swayed on his feet and leaned down so that he was face level with you, pointing an accusing finger in your face and once again his alcohol filled breath invaded your senses.

“you-you have no idea who you’re dealing with”

his words slurred together and his unbalance caused him to lean forward slightly and you took a step back- all of a sudden you heard a familiar voice over the crowd’s chatter.

“______-swaaaan!!”

you looked to the side and spotted the relieving blond hair bouncing through the crowd while your boyfriend quickly weaved his way through the crowd towards you. stopping beside you and throwing his hands wielding shopping bags into the air.

“I got you gifts my beautiful _____-swan!”

this is when he noticed the man far too close for his liking, his face fell with his arms, turning to one of suspicion and confusion, then to one of disgust and slight anger. he handed you the bags gently and stepped in front of the man, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“why are you bothering my little _____-swan?”

his voice was tight and you could tell he was mad, but the strager didn’t seem to pick up on the danger in his drunkness. you reached up and clutched the bottom of Sanji’s jacket in your hand, he felt the action rigth away and his anger dissipated and his face broke into a huge grin. he spun on his heel and threw his arms around your waist, picking you up and smushing his cheek against yours while he rambled about how adorable you are- his perfect moment ruined by the stranger’s words.

“she ran into me you bastard, make her *hiccup* apologize before I do”

“oi, don’t ignore me!”

Sanji’s smile faltered slightly and he lifted his foot, spinning quickly and kicking the man with such force that it sent him flying away through the wall of the shop behind.

“I’m trying to hug my angel! don’t interupt you idiot!”

“_____-swan I’m so sorry you had to see that~!”

you giggled at Sanji’s foolishness, leaning you head down to peck his nose- making his cheeks turn an even brighter red and he squealed.

“ooh we need to get back to the ship so you can try on the clothes I got for you my dear!”

he placed his arm under you, switching to holding you in a bridal style, and he pranced off down the street towards the awaiting ship- his face still dangerously flushed and his eyes closed in joy.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #sanji headcanons #sanji imagine #one piece sanji #one piece king #king the wildfire #king headcanons #king imagine #king the wildfire imagine #king x reader

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wh0re-4-techno · 3 years

Text

1. A NEW DAY ((PROFESSOR TECHNO))

Description: You, the reader, attend the campus at Indiana University. While attending, you meet Professor Technoblade, your new Ancient History teacher. Something to him seems so familiar but you couldn't place your finger on it until he points it out.

Words: 4615

next part

The leaves begin to change colors, the bright green slowly turning into the classic autumn orange and brown. The sunshine piercing the sky but the crisp breeze that follows cools down the air. Hearing the leaves fall down to the concrete sidewalks or the soft grass.

The tall buildings silent from outside and the halls but the classrooms fill with the teachers voices asking questions and the students answers.

You stare up at your white ceiling, boring, plain, dull. But, there was a small 69 carved into the ceiling. It's been there ever since you've arrived and didn't mind. Why would you? It was a stupid but quite funny thing that another college student did on your bland ceiling. You lean back into your hands.

Your hands were placed on the back of your neck, fingers playing with the back of your hair. Feeling the warmth of the sunshine on your legs as the window of your student house was open. Smelling the autumn air fill up your room.

It was quite relaxing. Finally having one day off of your busy week. All your classes has been hectic to say the least, but today was starting off nice. Closing your eyes. You wherein peace with this moment in time, that it didn't matter what else was happening outside of this room.

Hearing the familiar sound of keys rattling, opening your eyes lazily as the dorm room door opens. "What are you doing back so early Minx?" Your roommate, Minx, stormed in. Her boots hitting the ground so hard that her stomping made echoes. Her face was fuming red, her lips pouting. She gripped onto her book bag so harshly that her knuckles turned white.

You lift yourself up with your elbows, letting out a sign. Just staring at her, waiting for her to respond or cool off. She threw her bag onto her bed in frustration, grunting doing so. "I thought you had class this hour?" You ask, "Well obviously I'm not going to class." She snapped back, rolling her eyes.

Minx was older then you. She was in year 4. Studying to be a politician or any part of the government, you really didn't understand what she was talking about half of the time. But she loved to ramble on about the subject, normally she was a chatterbox, would go on and on and on about one thing she did in class or anything in particular. But right now she stood in silence. As long as you've known her she's been arrogant. She wouldn't tell you exactly what's wrong and you had to piece up the puzzles to figure out why she was acting out. You did care for her, but now that she was acting like a toddler who didn't get what they wanted, you weren't going to deal with it.

Muttering a "Fine." Laying back on your bed, letting your body relax once again and closing your eyes. She grunts again, but you don't open your eyes. You listen to hear her jumping on her bed, turning your head to the side to face her. Opening your eyes to see her. She was laying down, head to the ceiling, legs crossed. Her nose was turning pink, you knew she was starting to cry, it was one of the tell told signs of hers.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" You try your best to ask. "It's embarrassing." She choked, hearing her sniffle on her tears. You turn your head back to the ceiling, "I promise I won't laugh." Both of you continue to look up at the ceiling, wondering what to say next.

Minx whipped away a tear as she spoke, "You promise? Pinky promise?" She asks, you smile to yourself. It was one of the things you two would do. Any time there was a secret or basically anything that you could only share with each other, the both of you had to pinky promise. It didn't have to physically be a pinky promise, but you did have to say it with the true meaning as if it was. "I pinky promise." You raise your hand, poking out your pinky finger. She does the following, you could hear her softly chuckle at the moment.

"Okay. So you know that I've been studying for this test, right?" Both of you bring your hands down as she began to explain. You nod, "Yeah you stayed up till 3 am each day." You lightly shake your head. "Again I'm sorry." "It's okay." You could tell she started to choke up again, holding back tears. "Well. I failed that test." Back again with the crying, her hands cupped her face, hiding away from the world.

Thinking for a second you push yourself off your bed. Bunching up your blankets as you stand up. Minx didn't bother to look at you.

You hop your butt up on her bed right next to her. You weren't the best with words during this type of timing. That being when someone is sobbing in front of you and you don't know if they want to be held or not touched at all. Or what words your should say, because if you say something wrong then it over for you.

Placing one of your hands on her shoulder, slightly jumping at your touch but eases into it. You rub her arm up and down, trying to sooth her down. She removes her hands from her face. Her makeup running down her cheeks, her lipstick smudged.

You give her a pity smile, "Minx, it's okay. Really." She looks up at you, her eyes are red and puffy. You truly hated seeing your dearest friend in this type of state and looking like this. It just broke your heart. "Hey, hey, it's not the end of the world here. It's only one test." You let out a breath, you might not understand why failing one test was worth crying for but you still wanted to help out your friend. "It's not that simple y/n." She grasps her hand into a fist. "I can't just fail a test! I've never fail one of his test before, I don't understand how I got a 36 percent..." She frowns, looking away from you and back to the ceiling. "Have you talked to your teacher?" You question, but you were sure that she already did so. "Yes, and he said most people failed too. Like that's gonna make me feel better!" She throws her hands up, clearly getting more frustrated.

"Do you want me to call Schlatt?" You ask, Schlatt was one of her guy friends, he would come over sometimes to help Minx or just when they wanted to party. But right now he could help her more then you. She quickly swiped her head left to right, basically telling you no. You quirk an eyebrow up, she would love when he would come over. "Why? Schlatt always makes you feel happy. Let me call him." You reach for your phone from your back pocket, Minx grabbing your arm in the process. You stop and pull your arm away, mouthing "Okay." to her.

Pondering over the opinions on what to do, finding the best other people you could call. "How 'bout Kiara?" You give her a reassurance look, she still shakes her head. You huff out, confused about what she wants to be honest. "Can I call anyone?" You search for an answer but it was simply that she didn't want you to call anyone.

"Why can't I call any of your friends?" You ask, "Because they're going to poke fun at me. I love them, but they don't need to know that I'm crying over a test." She pleads with her eyes, begging you not to tell anyone. Especially the two boys. "You pinky promise." She brought up the pink promise, which you damned yourself about. "Alright, I won't tell them." You defend yourself, lifting you hands aswell.

You hop off of her bed and sit back on yours, leaning back on your hands. "What do you want to do then?" You question, her face still blotchy with red and her eyes puffy. "If we go anywhere you're doing my makeup!" She pointed at you while rubbing her eyes, whipping away any blurriness left from crying. You nod in agreement, I mean, it was one thing you could do to make her feel better. "Then pick a place." You lean down, pushing your bedding away, your hands search as she thinks.

You finally find the box, pulling it out from under your bed. It was a medium size caboodle carrying on case. Both of your hands place it on your bed, opening it up to revealing your makeup.

You flip your hand, gesturing to Minx to come to your bed. Which she did, happily sitting down in front of you. Grabbing a makeup whip to get rid of any remaining makeup that was left on from her crying. "Think of any place?" You ask while cleaning up her running mascara. "Coffee?" She shrugged in response. It wasn't a bad idea, you haven't had any coffee for today, so why would it hurt to show up. "Yeah the seems alright."

-----

Running down the concrete, watching as the leaves drift down slowly with ease. But flying back once you pass them. Your shoes making a slight slapping nosie as both of you race through the campus. Your eyes are looking right ahead, rushing to get to the coffee shop. Minx, who's beside you, starts to catch up to you.

She was actually pretty fast so you were confused as to why she started to slow down, but you turn your head back to the sidewalk, quickly dodging to the side. "Holy shit I'm sorry man." You said half out of breath and chuckling. Your attention goes back to Minx who just passed you and giggles.

The man who you almost ran into looks down at you, nodding off. "Yeah sure." You gave the man a quick look over, then to see he was on the phone, you back up away from him, embarrassed to say the least. He pulled away his phone to say "It was alright." but as you quickly as apologize you where back to running.

The both of you didn't think much of it.

You jump off the sidewalk to avoid the other students who where walking. Continuing to dash, passing through the people whom was sitting on the grass and who where having a small get together or a picnic. Some telling you not to be running, but you just scoffed at them with little to no care.

You watch as Minx reaches the café, you throw your hand up in defeat. You roll your eyes as she does a lil dance of victory, rubbing it in your face.

Walking up to her, "That bullshit. That rando almost ran into me!" She starts to laugh at how angry you were getting. "Correction. You almost ran into him." You stick out your tongue to her, she, of course, keeps laughing at you. As you walk away, heading toward the café she tries to contain herself from laughing. "You better stop it or I'm not paying for your coffee!" You snap at her, half serious half joking.

The both of you stand in line, quite a few people where getting coffee. The smell of espresso beans was strong, almost hitting you in the face strong. But it wasn't so bad, it was rather sweet.

Turning your head to Minx, who was now scrolling through Instagram. You look closer to see that she was checking out Schlatt's posts. Some were with just him, others were random people that she nor you knew. One post in particular she kept staring at, it was Schlatt with a girl. Her arm was wrapped around him as he looked into the camera surprised. You stop looking, making sure she knew you whereas curious as she was. "So what do you want?" You ask nonchalantly, already knowing what she wanted, a vanilla bean mocha. "A vanilla bean mocha." And you where right.

"Could I get a cookie too?" Minx asks while shimming her shoulders, you chuckle but roll your eyes as well. "Unless you're paying for that cookie." You walk towards, slowly but surely getting closer to the register. "Com'on! You lost fair and square." You had to hush her from getting too loud, "No, the agreement is whoever gets to the coffee shop first pays for a drink. That's it. We never said anything about cookies or whatever." You told her, which she remembered the first time the both of you did this. And it was true, you only had to pay for drinks. "But I'm sad." You give her a look, "You can't use the "I'm sad" card with me, Minx." You turn away from her, taking another few steps.

You were next in line to get your order, eventually making it so it was time for you to place your order. "Sup.." You look at the guy's name tag, "Ted. Could I get a vanilla bean mocha and a y/f/d please?" You tell the barista, he was tall. Very tall. Dark brown hair. Very fluffy, but sleek. His glasses where a circle frame, they fit him very well. "Okay... Yeah, that'll be 9.58." He looked up from his register, you hand him your card. The transaction was quick and you were already sitting down before your drink where being made.

"How's your other classes going?" You ask, Minx still was glued to her phone, you clear your throat. Drawing her attention, she look back up at you and places her phone down on the table. She hums, asking you to repeat yourself. Which you did, "Oh, pretty good. Have As and Bs nothing to bad." She glances back down at her phone. "How's Economic going?" It was one of the difficult classes, well that's what people who took the class said. You weren't into anything like that. "About that same, I have a huge written assignment due next week. I need to get ahead of that." You nod to her, you understand that struggle with these projects. "What about you? Anything new happen in your classes?" Minx asks, pulling her full attention to you.

"Not a lot actually. Well other then my schedule changed." You lean back into the chair. You went exactly excited to get your schedule changed after the few weeks into college. And that class being Ancient history. "Really? To what class?" She seemed more interested to what class it was compared to you. You answer, "Ancient history." She seems slight taken aback when she heard that come out of your mouth. "Really? Ancient history?" She even has to think for a few seconds to take this in. "Huh. I would never have pictures you being into that..." She looked back at you. "Yeah, it was that or Astrology." You cross your arms, "Why didn't you pick Astrology?! That sounds so much more fun!" You where about to answer, but the barista called out your name. You hold up your hand to Minx, gesturing that you'll be right back.

You grab both of your drinks and go back to the table. "I was about to say, Ancient history is easier. Stuff that already happened." You hand her her drink. "You can just Google the answers. I swear y/n you are lazy." The both of you chuckled.

You take a swig of your drink, it was just perfect. The taste was everything.

"Eh, I will rather be studying mummies than space or whatever." You check your phone, the time saying '8:17 am'. Minx laughs at your point. "You say that now but later you'll be the one crying that you failed your test." You gave her a sarcastic laugh. "Hey, could you remind me at 10 that I have to meet my new professor?" Minx looks at you with slight confusion. "Why are you going to meet? You just show up to class?" She takes a slip midway through the sentence. I mean that is normally true, if you were new to a class or switched you just showed up. "My counselor said it would probably be best that I meet him before so I would be prepared for my first day there." She 'oh' to your explanation.

"Are you sure you pick the right class? I mean you have to show up to talk to your Professor before the first day." She did make a good point, it was a little questionable that you did have to show up before, but you couldn't change your class now. Minx saw you as you were taken into deep thought about what she said, trying to distract you, "So. Are you talking to any boys lately?" You blink out of your thought, you give her a questionable face. "What- Oh, no." You take a sip of your drink.

"And why is that?" You take a deep breath. She knew that you wanted a boyfriend for a long time now, but you just never really put yourself out there. You didn't do any of the dating apps. It's cliche to say, but you wanted to meet someone in real life, that being from the grocery store or a fancy restaurant. "I don't know, how 'bout you ask the boys all over campus?" You joke, "I might!" She plays back with you.

-----

As the both of you finish the rest of your drink you look back down at your phone. '9:57' You've been here for about an hour just talking about life, which you didn't mind one bit, but you felt like you missing or forgetting something but you could put your finger on it. You just push away the thought because you couldn't think of anything.

You stand up to throw yours and Minx's empty cups in the trash, she meets you as you walk out of the café. "Next time I'm winning." Your cocky voice was loud and maybe too confident. "You said that last time, remember?" She laughs at her own words as you just snarl. "You and I know that this was a bad run." "Eh, was it though?" If your side glance could kill, Minx would be six feet belong at this point. She slightly took a step away from you.

You watch as Minx takes her phone back, you didn't pay to much attention to it until she cursed.

"Oh shit!" Minx looks at her phone then looking back up at you. Her eyes are wide. You just give her a questionable face, "It's already 10!" You think for a few seconds, nothing. "So-" She cut you off before you could talk. "You have to go meet your new Professor!" It took a mere second for it to process. And when it did, you took in complete surprise. Not sure what to do, "I don't have my bookbag or anything!" You were looking around nervously, "Fuck this is how they're gonna see me, unprepared and can't tell time or that I'm lazy!" "Well get your ass going!" She flew out her hands, shooing you away.

You started to walk away, picky up the pace but before you ask, "You wanna meet at the grass later?". "Oh my god! Get your ass to class! And yes!" You rush through the sidewalk, almost running into multiple people in the process.

You murmur out curse words while running to the west side of the campus.

Pushing through the main doors to the building, the students stare at you as you keep running. The hardwood flooring makes you sound loud in each step. "Shit..." You whisper to yourself, as your phone says '10:12'

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." You climb up the stairs, looking for the right floor.

The floor number being 2, you rush down the hallway. You swipe your head left and right, reading each door to find the correct one, which was room 237. You scan through the corridor, turning to your left into the next one. These doors say 226, 227, etc. You were getting closer at least. The squeakiness of your shoes meeting the floor was really loud and getting annoying. For sure you were interrupting many classes.

Finally stopped at a large wooden door. At the top saying "#237". You pull your phone back out from your pocket, '10:19 am' Your curse once more and breathe out. Your hand pulls open the door, the room was nicely lit.

Everything in your life was about to change, maybe for the better or the worst.

As you take your first steps in, you see the professor looking straight down, looking into a book, you didn't mind to see what the book was called as you were studying his office. It was quite tall, bookshelves lining the walls. Random plants hanging down from the shelves and some on the roof. He had books scattered across his desk, but not as messy as you would think. He had two comfy comforters to the sides, they also had a few books on them. One had a briefcase beside the books, the other had a couple of teacups. Interesting. A sword was placed leaning on the many bookcases, even more interesting.

He shuts the book, almost like he just noticed that you were there. Or that he let you look around his office, but none the least you had his attention now.

He looks up at you, your mouth slight parting. Your eyes were all over this man from his head, which was full of brown somewhat curly hair that just falls in place perfectly. How you imagined how soft it would feel around your fingers. It wasn't too short but wasn't long, it flattered his face quite nicely. As your eyes went down, you meet with his. They were a dark drown but there was a warm feeling with them, almost welcoming.

Breaking from the short amount of eye contact you see that he also had a tiny bit of stubble on his chin as if he forgot to shave this morning.

He seemed very young to be a Professor.

After your small look over. You weren't sure if he knew you were checking him out or not, but you go with the ladder and hope that he didn't. He most definitely knew you did so. "Please, do sit down." He half sits up and gestures to the seats that were in front of his desk. They were dark down leather chairs. As you sit, they weren't the annoying squeaky ones and were quite plush. You take another deep breath, your hands starting to shake from your nerves. "Now, can you tell me why you're late? I sure do hope that you won't do this every time we meet." He flashes a smile, he softly chuckles. His voice seemed odd but why did it seem like you've heard him before. But as you thought, nothing was coming up. You smile back, "I'm so sorry, I got my time mixed up."

"That's alright, this is just for you to figure out what this class is about." You quirked an eyebrow, he pulls one of his drawers opens and hand you a piece of paper. The paper was the information that was needed, aka all the items you need for the class. Include books and whatnot. "Do I have to get all of these right now?" You ask, turning the paper over and of course, it was double-sided.

You were so close to rolling your eyes, but figured it would be rude to do so in front of your new Professor. "No, most of the books are going to be later in the semester. But please don't worry, I provide most books to students." You look back up to him. Not a lot of teachers did that. I know it's the simple thing in life but that was really kind of him to do so.

As you look at him, his face. Something was telling you that you've met him before. And without your knowledge, he was in the same position. You sounded so familiar to him, but he couldn't place his finger on it. How he could picture that the two of you have met prior to this.

You look back down on the paper, reading everything that was listed. "You don't mind if I ask, why did you pick Ancient history?" Your eyes slightly widen, you didn't have an answer to this. Especially an answer that he would like. "I- I'm not sure. It was this or Astrology, but Ancient history just seems a tad bit easier. To be frank with you." You softly giggle at your own response.

He also smiles at your answer, normally he would get some bullshit answer, but for some reason, you just gave the impression that it was true. "Well, that's better than nothing." He jokes, which you chuckle too.

"Have I missed anything super important?" You ask, "To be quite honest, no. Nothing super important. We did start a project, but don't worry we just started getting into things. But you did miss when the tests will be scheduled." You let out a breath, calm yourself down. You were glad that you weren't missing like a test or anything, but that damn project. Hoping that it won't be too difficult to work with other students. "Um, let me grab you a paper with the dates of the test." He slowly says as he searches his desk to find the paper. Both of you connect eyes once again, you couldn't stop yourself from staring into them. He hands you the paper that was filled with dates. "That's a lot of tests..." You say in a low tone so he wouldn't hear you, but that failed.

"Yes I know, but they're short quizzes." He reassures you, he flashes you a toothy smile. "And if you are struggling on anything. I do have office hours you can come in and ask questions." You shake your head. "Or if you need any help with any other class really." He lightly chuckled, looking back to his book, which laid nicely on his desk. "I'm kinda the smartest one in this building." You giggle at his cockyness, he was a proud man, you could tell right away.

Both of you talk more in-depth about his class rules, etc.

"Alright then, any other questions?" You think for a few seconds, "Nothing that pops in my head." You start to stand up, he also stands up. Making his way past you to the door. He holds open the door, "Thank you, Sir." As you pass him.

It all connects. "Hold on..." He says, his hand slightly grabbing your arm, making you stop halfway through the door frame, he was close to you. His eyes traveled all over your body, "Wait... You're the girl how ran into me earlier today." Your eyes widen when you realize. No wonder why his voice was familiar to you. You feel your face start to heat up.

#mcyt #mcyt fic #technoblade #technoblade x reader #techno #techno x reader #x reader #professor technoblade x reader #professor #mcyt fanfiction

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professionalsimpfor2dboys · 4 years

Text

“Scenting” Obey Me Fluff (slightly sexual)

All demon brothers x Female! MC

Introduction: when in Devildom, MC always knew demons were very different from her human self but she never knew they did something called “scenting” until some random demons did it to her, ensuing a very possessive & peeved off demon brothers

MC sat at her desk as she normally would but quieter than usual, compared to her other classes she’d be surrounded by her demons but this was the only class that she had none of them in. Sighing out of boredom, she hunched over her desk as she waited for the bell to ring but was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. She looked up to meet black eyes that belonged to one of the many demon classmates she had grown used to ignoring.

“Hah! I told you! She finally noticed me!” He cheered cockily at his friends that stood alongside him, each very different from the other. “Jeez, I almost gave up on getting your attention, human,” he winked flirtatiously, which MC just blinked at in an oblivious manner.

“Hey! Just because she noticed you first doesn’t mean she doesn’t see the rest of us either!” The shorter out the bunch yelled out defensively.

“Ah, sorry...? I never realized anyone was trying to get my attention. Could I help you with something?” She questioned, holding a finger to her chin. After multiple lectures from Lucifer and the others but mostly Lucifer she had grown accustomed to not conversing with other demons since she was told they wanted nothing but to eat or hurt her and what idiot was not gonna take that warning? It surprised her that they seemed overall harmless, other than a common spark in the eyes of each of the demons in front of her.

“W-well, it’s not necessarily something you can help with...” a particularly shy-looking demon stepped forward, his black hair covered his eyes like a curtain which he nervously patted at. “W-we have a slight, ahem, fascination with h-humans...particularly y-you,” he trailed off as a taller demon slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Quit beating around the bush! We like you, human! You’re pretty cute!” Said demon announced, winking then continuing to give the shy boy a noogie.

A melodious giggle to their ears erupted from her throat at the slight blushing faces of her previously unknown classmates in front of her. “I’m flattered! I didn’t think I met up to demons’ preferences,” she laughed. MC was happy to be conversing with others for once, not being isolated to just the seven brothers felt as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders which she hadn’t noticed before and the fact that they found her cute was all the better.

“Nah! Attractive up there is still attractive down here! All we really prefer is that our horns don’t get caught up with each other when kissing and since you don’t have any it’s all the better!” The first demon replied cheerily, patting at her head to get the point across as she laughed. “Not to mention, since you’re human, you have a different type of beauty ‘bout you that we’re not too used to,” he continued, boldly leaning close and tipping her chin upward with a finger.

It was MC’s turn to blush. As her cheeks dusted with a slight pink tone, she couldn’t help but giggle at her classmates’ antics. “You guys are a funny bunch. I like y’all!” she commented happily, smiling at the four demons in front of her. It felt strange to not feel afraid of anyone other than her particular seven demons but not in a negative way. Inside she hoped that this would start a domino effect of others wanting to try striking up a conversation with her, the thought made her feel warm inside. The four stepped back in surprise at her revelation, whilst blushing at her cute smile they all shared a look with one another.

“D-do you mind if we, um, s-scent you...” the shy demon stuttered out as he twiddled his fingers nervously, fearing her reply to such an intimate request. Seeing her head cocked to the side, he quickly tried to explain himself. “A-Ah! We don’t want to fully scent you! Just one rub to show our interest in you is all! We would never fully scent without an established relationship! It’s just to show that we’re trying to court you is all! Y-you don’t even have to accept!” He rambled, jumping forward out of how frazzled he was which revealed his two gold eyes from underneath the curtain of pitch black hair.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what is ‘scenting’ exactly?” She questioned, confused at what it was and why there were different types. Realizing she didn’t know what it meant, the shy demon’s legs gave out from embarrassment as the taller demon caught him, his outbursts seemed to be normal to them.

“Oh, right! You’re human so you don’t know!” The shortest realized, putting his fist in to his other hand. “Hmm, long story short it’s what demons do to show our interest in someone,” he shrugged simply, but a sly glint in his eye as well as the smirk that lifted his lips said something else, which MC didn’t quite catch. “Here! I’ll show ya!” He continued before dipped down and nuzzling his neck against hers just once before pulling away with a satsifactory grin as he inhaled.

“Hey, you’re leaving some things out-“ the black-eyed demon spoke up before the shortest cut him off.

“You don’t mind it, right? It’s completely harmless!” He shrugged, holding his hands up and shaking his head innocently. The other three waited quietly in anticipation.

“I-I guess,” MC nodded which four smiled triumphantly at. The black-eyed demon didn’t waste time in following the prior demon’s actions but with a warmer smile before the taller did the same, a flirtatious lift to his lips. That left only the shy demon to scoot hesitantly close before rubbing his neck against hers. Once. Twice. Before being pulled away by the other three.

“Hey! What are ya trying to do? Don’t be going overboard with the scenting, dumbass!” The tallest reprimanded, holding him by the back of his collar.

“I-I’m sorry! I got carried away! I wasn’t going to do anything more! Promise!” He wailed as the three pulled him out the classroom just as the bell rang, not forgetting to wave at her as they left.

“Strange. I wonder what the brothers will have to say.” She thought to herself.

Disappointed but not surprised that the brothers each had plans after school, she walked home alone that day. One would think at least one would stay behind for her safety, but she felt that they were beginning to get too used to having her around and often forgot she was human, which was nice she was so included and familiar to them but annoying nonetheless when she didn’t get to see anyone until dinner. Beel and Satan had after school activities, which she understood as well as Lucifer having his own duties to Lord Diavolo but the other four’s excuses were ridiculous to her. Mammon texted her to inform that he was going to be trying to break into Diavolo’s office at school with the full intent to steal any valuables in there, Levi had shut himself in at some newly opened Internet cafe and refused to even do his online classes there, Belphie had disappeared somewhere most likely in a strange spot sleeping, and Asmo was completely focused on waiting in line at a popular cake store since morning just for what he called the “perfect Devilgram post”.

By the time she had gotten home she had completely forgotten about the whole “scenting” thing and decided to take a shower. She had just gotten out when she heard hurried footsteps leading to her door. Acting quickly, she ran to the door and locked it before anyone could enter and see her in all her naked glory. This was met with a deep “oof” as the person hit the door, expecting it to open, and followed it with loud knocks when it didn’t.

“Oi! Why’s the door locked? Who ya got in there? I can smell ‘em!” Mammon’s voice berated as he incessantly banged at the door, awaiting his human’s answer. He stopped briefly to press his nose against the crack of the locked door as he deeply inhaled to pinpoint the foreign scent before starting back up again. “Oiiii! Who’s scent is that? That ain’t any of my brothers or mine!” He yelled.

“Yeah, because it’s mine! I just got out the shower! Are you a bloodhound or somethin’? Am I not allowed to lock the door or would ya rather see me naked?” She yelled back, annoyed at his questions. Obviously she’s going to smell like her body fragrance after coming out the shower, what kind of question is that?

Blushing at her remark, he stopped knocking but still cocked his head to the side out of confusion. He knew her scent so why did it smell different? Shaking his head, he brushed it off as a new body lotion or something among those lines. “I’ve told ya! Demons have got a stronger sense of smell than ya humans! Anyways, I’m on dinner duty and it’ll be done in thirty minutes so I expect ya down here right when it’s done! The Great Mammon’s food shouldn’t be kept waiting, alright?” He stated.

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll be down there when I’m ready to!” She answered angrily, his questioning from earlier and the fact that he abandoned her to try breaking into Diavolo’s office instead taking play.

She took her time after that, knowing fully well that dinner was ready and the others were sat waiting for their beloved human that they neglected all day to come down and eat with them. By the time she came down, they had all been seated and Beel was already on his fifth plate which didn’t take him long mind you.

“Ah, better late than never, I suppose,” Lucifer commented teasingly, noting her damp hair as her excuse.

“Hurry up and eat before Beel devours it all!” Mammon ushered at the seat in front of him, he usually sat beside her but the twins had beat him to it since there was only one seat she preferred to sit at.

Taking her usual seat, she began to eat but it wasn’t long before a faint but definitely there foreign scent emanated from her. Reaching Belphie first while Beel was too busy stuffing his face with food. It roused him from his short slumber he decided to take at the dinner table, as he inched forward towards his human’s neck. She jumped when she felt his nose pressed against her nape as he inhaled and pulled away with a disgruntled look on his face.

“Why do you smell like that?” Belphie sneered. At this point, the smell had reached Beel as well and he promptly stopped his feasting to investigate. He followed Belphie’s actions but on the opposite side, deeply inhaling before quickly pulling away with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yeah...you smell like someone else,” Beel growled, surprising her at the tone of his voice. The smell wafted towards the other brothers as well and it wasn’t long before they were all on their feet, surrounding her with quizzical expressions while each taking turns of two to sniff at her exposed neck as she sat red-faced at the attention. She knew she was a bit petty from being neglected earlier but she didn’t expect this much attention at once!

“I knew I smelt something-someone earlier!” Mammon said as he angrily took another whiff, which only peeved him off more.

“How strange,” Satan hummed, a smile on his face that she knew masked his anger all too well. The brothers tried to rack their brains from what the scent could be from before Levi suddenly gasped.

“S-she’s been scented!” He revealed before dipping down yet again to smell. “And by, what seems like, multiple demons!” He continued, an angry flush against his cheeks. All the brothers looked at each other before returning their attention back to MC, who sat looking dazed in her chair.

“Now, now, lets give her space,” Lucifer commanded, waving his hand for his brothers to step away. “Care for an explanation, darling?” He questioned, the glint in his eye and slight furrow of his forehead outing his subdued anger as he felt a crack in his pride that some lowly demon, multiple in fact, had scented his human and she allowed it. He held a threatening but gentle hand on her shoulder as she tried her best to rack her brain to recall why she would smell like someone else. A lightbulb lighting up in her brain when she finally recalled.

“Ah! I talked to four classmates of mine for the first time and they mentioned something about ‘scenting’, I didn’t really understand it and next thing I knew they were doing it so that’s probably why!” She explained, looking up at the brothers with innocent eyes that made their hearts squeeze. So, she didn’t know.

“And what did they tell you about it exactly?” Lucifer questioned further.

“Hmm, they said demons do it to show their interest in someone? Something about courting?” She replied.

“Aw, my poor darling! Taken advantage like that!” Asmo cooed as he threw his arms around her.

“O-oh, did they lie?” She asked sheepishly.

“More like gave ya half-truths!” Mammon answered as he ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. “Satan, explain,” he sighed, waving his hand.

“Well, while what they said was true it was very vague and not all of it. Scenting is when a demon claims one as their own, it’s territorial and tells other demons to back off or else there’s gonna be...problems,” Satan explained in a matter-of-fact manner.

“They mentioned something about not ‘fully’ scenting. What’s that?” She asked.

“Ah, if they did that we’d have their heads,” he chuckled out evilly before resuming his explanation calmly which made her shiver. “Fully scenting is when demons claim one as their mate. It creates a tether between them more romantically intimate than a pact and is stronger smelling than normal scenting. The one who was scented on can also release distress signals when in danger and it’ll alert the other demon almost right away,” he ended.

“A-Ah, so there was more to it,” she laughed weakly, realizing how dumb she was before.

“Hm, yes. Well, it seems that we’ll have to further stake our claim on our human here. Luckily we’re powerful demons, so we can easily break this mediocre scenting,” Lucifer stated before pressing his lips against her neck and harshly sucking, causing a gasp to leak out her lips. He pulled away and smirked at the bright hickey that bloomed on her neck as well as the fading scent that was on her.

“I agree,” Mammon monotoned as he did the same, finding her sweet spot almost instantly as he suckled and kissed on it to leave a deep bruise. “How dare they put their disgusting scent on my human?” He growled against her. She covered her mouth to muffle her voice, but Levi pulled them away.

“I don’t think so,” he tsked, nibbling at her jaw and smirking against her as she gasped at the feeling of his bite on her skin.

“We’ll be covering you with these,” Satan spoke against her, dipping to her clavicle to leave yet another hickey as he circled his tongue around it.

“We’ll put it in places you can’t cover and make it so dark no makeup could make a dent!” Asmo giggled mischievously as he aimed for where her jugular was, causing her to shiver.

Beel licked his lips at the sight of her as he took it upon himself to bite new territory, which was her shoulders. “This is better than when I wanted to eat you when we first met,” he mumbled lowly, lapping at the bite marks he left on her to soothe them.

“Ah, hardly any room for me,” Belphie muttered before taking a bite at the top of her chest, her jumping up as a reaction making him smile smugly.

Oh, how was she was going to avoid prying eyes at school tomorrow?

I’m a whore for scenting so I wanted to give it a go! I think ima make this a series since they didn’t fully scent on her just yet & will probs make a part for each of my bois, Mammon being first of course! Oh and I’m definitely gonna make them smutty because duh probably start off being some fluffy cute cuddles & then progress to absolute ravaging ;) interested?

Oh and what do y’all think of the demons I made up for this story? I kinda like their personalities & antics together idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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Thor one day thinking about how he is immortal and you are not and he loses his mind over it and starts crying. so he figures out a way to make you immortal too because ge can not live without the live of his life 🥺☺️

Sprinkled in a bit of mythology there.

Thor fluff | Idunn's Apples

• Thor is immortal, compared to you. He will go on to live about five or six thousand years; you will get old and weak in little more than seventy years. It's a bittersweet thing, because even during your short lifespan, you will get to see your lover accomplish great, incredible things. And you have no doubts he will stay with you until the end. You've made your peace with it.

• Thor, as it turned out, had not. One day you get injured, successfully landing yourself in a hospital after the dumbest thing - a simple car accident - puts you out of commission for several months. Even despite Tony's and Strange's combined magical and technological efforts, you have to re-learn how to walk after your spine simply shatters in several places.

• Thor never leaves your side. He's there for the sweat, the tears of painful physical therapy and the anger of not being able to even go to the bathroom on your own. He neglects everything - Asgard, his duties as an Avenger, even his brother's mischief barely manages to get a reaction out of him. When he thinks you're asleep, you hear him crying, whispering to you and to himself that he will not lose you.

• Perhaps, you have underestimated his stubborn streak and willingness to keep you around for longer than mother Earth had intended. Loki must've been feeling the same way, because under the huffing and eye-rolling, you can see the raven-haired Asgardian's respect for his brother rise. And you're absolutely sure Loki knows you're pretending to be asleep just so you can eavesdrop and find out the reason for Thor's sudden bouts of nervous energy these days.

• "We must steal the Apples of Idunn, there is no other way," Thor announces, and you hastily rack your brain for the mythological facts you read upon once Thor had joined the Avengers. "Father will never give one willingly, even if it is me asking. I am way beyond requesting permission and have no mind in extending apologies," Thor's voice is dark and quiet, like when he gets particularly invested in defeating a strong enemy.

• "We, brother?" Loki asks sarcastically but you know him enough. He's been sold on the idea long, long time ago. Anything to get under Odin's skin. "What's in it for me? I, for one, have no desire to go back to the dungeons," The concerns are valid. But, perhaps, if you can get Thor out of the room for ten minutes, Loki can be bargained with.

• You begin stirring, faking a yawn and cracking open your sleep-crusted eyes. Thor is at your side immediately. You smile up at him. "Baby, could you do me a favour and bring the tablet I forgot in Natasha's room? And maybe something to eat?" You flutter your eyelashes and press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. As predicted, Thor departs quickly.

• Loki cocks an eyebrow in your direction, indicating he understood the gesture. You exhale. "I can arrange a permanent residency for you on Earth. Our leaders aren't exactly happy with Odin, either, and are willing to reconsider the agreements, provided Thor stays. The Apple will guarantee that he does just that and... Both me and Thor can easily talk the leaders into writing your name into the treaties," You rattle off, not at all bothered by Loki's surprise.

• To him, you were just another human, a SHIELD lackey and a paper pusher. Perhaps, he didn't know how much Earth's culture depended on beaurecracy or perhaps he simply did not care; for once, you were glad that Earth's comparative weakness to other planets could be turned in your favour. Finally, Loki's grin makes an appearance. "My, my, you're full of surprises, Lady," He addresses you by the title for the first time.

• You grin back, equally ferocious and looking not at all weak despite being bedridden and covered in ugly scars. "The more Apples you get, the better conditions I will be inclined to request for. Perhaps, you may even be recognised as royalty beside your brother," You can't resist dangling the proverbial carrot in front of the Asgardian. You knew how people like him worked and you weren't virtuous at all; perhaps, you may even share the extended lifespan with Natasha or Tony or Clint. "If anybody can pull it off, it's you." No lies were told.

• "Greedy little mortal," He scoffed; as usual, the spikier was Loki's attitude, the more intrigued he was. Deep down you knew he wouldn't do anything that would put him in real danger and Thor - Thor was his father's favourite son and either way, he would come out squeaky clean. Speaking of Thor, he appeared just as the sly grins left your and Loki's faces.

• "Lady Natasha says your device is not in her quarters," Thor rumbles, placing a tray on your lap, frowning. You pick at the food, instantly losing the deviousness, feelings of guilt beginning to creep into you at the fact that you just lied to your significant other. Unfortunately, sometimes there was no other way.

• "Must've left it somewhere else, you know I am forgetful these days," You sighed, leaning into Thor as he began to ramble about having to take an urgent trip to Asgard, skirting around the details and making round eyes at an unimpressed Loki. Thor was a terrible liar, perhaps, even worse than Rogers - and that was saying something. Both brothers depart quickly.

• They come back in several days, both men exhausted and bloody, but Thor's grin is one of triumph. For the first time in months you feel genuinely happy, not at all ashamed of showing your excitement for your upcoming life that you can share with Thor. Once the blonde departs to share the news with his teammates, Loki slides back into your room with a sly smirk and produces a woven basket with eight golden, glimmering fruit.

• "Welcome home, your Highness," You laugh, picking up the phone to dial Nick Fury. Loki laughs back, giving you a mock bow, and departs too, to prepare everything necessary for the ritual that will make you essentially immortal. And, perhaps, your friends, too.

#bunny's headcanons #thor x you #thor x reader #thor x y/n #thor fluff #thor headcanons #thor #platonic Loki x reader

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

Hi love!! I just took a look at the prompt lists u have linked and the prompt “you said what to your teacher?” sounds like it could be absolutely hilarious if u wanna write something for that!! <33333

Notes: OMFG HIYA DAN BABEYYYY!!!! Thank you SO SO much you absolute angel face!!! This was the first thing I tried writing and actually enjoyed and just wrote it all at once in the middle of the night dlkfsajlkgjasdofiewghklsdgj THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!!!

You Said What To Your Teacher? | Send Me A Prompt💜

“Do you remember when we were nine and I gave you my last sparkler because Regulus was crying that he wanted your purple smoke bomb and I was left with only my shitty poppers to throw when the ball dropped on New Year’s.”

Sub half way to his mouth and mobile lodged between his shoulder and ear, Sirius gently sets down his sandwich and dabs off the splatter of mayonnaise on his cupids bow as he tries to parse out what in bloody hell his best friend is blabbering on about.

“Oh, hi, Jem. Yeah I’m doing well, mate, thanks for asking. Works the typical grind but I think Minnie is about to give me that promotion any day now.”

“It’s a simple yes, or no answer, arse.” James retorts haughtily, sounding somehow frenzied and buoyant all at once.

“Pardon me, I thought we would just have a normal conversation like typical blokes,” Sirius sniffs, tilting back on his chair and clicking around on his desktop to look at the revised dimensions of a new building his firm was employed to begin constructing in south London. “Now remind me, my sweet. Was this the same New Year’s that you stuffed that stink bomb in the back of my shirt after stomping on it so it’d explode on me?”

“That is neither here, nor there.”

“I still feel the debris on my poor back on especially rough days.”

“You’re a twat.”

“And you’re acting dodgy.”

“I need a favor, and I thought a transactional proposition would be the sort of thing that you corporate types would appreciate.” James jabs, laughter in his words. Sirius just hopes he could picture the middle finger he’s emulating through the line.

“Just because you’ve completed residency doesn’t make you a special snowflake, you do realize this, correct?” Sirius tells him, already shooting a message to Minerva and his team that he’ll be jetting off a bit earlier so he could do whatever it is that James needs.

“Slander! It makes me the most special snowflake, Black. And it eats you up inside.” James retorts, moving away from the receiver to yell something towards one of his interns about a patient or the other.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, gorgeous. Now are you going to ever tell me what it is you need from me, or keep trying to get in my trousers, because listen either option is aces on my end. I’ll just add it to the document I send Lily every week about how I’m so obviously your dream partner.”

“It always just comes back to your burning jealousy that I chose her over you, doesn’t it?” James pretends to sigh forlornly. “Listen, my love. It’s not my fault that some birds are just born prettier than others.”

“Psha, I’m the prettiest fucker you know, Potter.”

“It’s the attitude for me, just absolutely no decorum about you.”

“Is this about that snag with me teaching Haz how to properly curse at a United fan?” Sirius asks, moving to collect his satchel and jacket. “Because I stand by that. We’re a fucking Arsenal family, damn it.”

“We were at brunch when he called that poor woman a weasel faced toad, Sirius.”

“Good man,” Sirius insists, waving goodbye to the secretary who always gives him the most devoted heart eyes.

“Well, speaking of the sprog. I’m stuck here with a new bout of paperwork to get someone transported to us from a hospital in the states, and Lily’s stuck in the maternity ward till at least nine.”

“Ooo, a bit of God father/God son time then??”

“With great power, comes great responsibility,” James says gravely.

“What have I told you about your shitty nerd references and how they give me a rash.”

“Spider-man isn’t simply for nerds you absolute pleb! There’s been three bloody franchisements for him in the past two decades!”

“Imma let Harry eat ice cream for dessert, I reckon.”

“Then you’ll have Lily to answer to,” James warns, still seething from the jibe. “And if you’re taking the bike, can you at least park a block away. This new school we’ve enrolled him into this year is well and proper, and I’d not want them to think that our son’s God father is some sort of ne’er-do-well.”

“You put respect on Rosco’s name, or so help me!”

“Right, right, the only constant love in your life.”

“She’s the only one who understands me.”

“ Whatever, just try and behave decently, will you?”

“Hah, and why wouldn’t I?” Sirius asks as he tosses his helmet into the air, patting Rosco in apology for James’s impertinence.

“Hmm, we’ll see, won’t we.” James says in an irritatingly ominous tone before clicking off the line.

There are a lot of reasons why Sirius could hate James. He could hate him for forcing Sirius to join him on his morning runs, or hate him for his intensely perky attitude about every sodding thing. Hell he could probably hate him for his complete disregard of the mad sport that is American football. But all that withstanding, Sirius reasons that for today he’ll hate him for his cryptic fucking warning and how he knew this would happen and is probably cackling over it as he fills out a new set of discharge papers.

That absolute, unceasing, weasel faced, toad.

The ‘this’ that Sirius is referring to of course is the fact that Sirius is left dumbstruck and gawping as he strolls leisurely into Harry’s third year class, eyes roaming over the small cluster of children who had stayed after hours for extra tutoring and who are now just lounging around, waiting for a guardian to come and pick them up. But instead of first spotting the dark head that belongs to his God son, Sirius’s gaze focusses on a man… A very fit, very golden, very beautiful man. A man that’s all lithe limbs and honey eyes, and a small, quietly encouraging smile as he kneels down to chat with a blonde girl who’s got on a blue tutu and rainbow poncho.

“Fuck you James Potter,” Sirius hisses lowly to himself as he tries to collect his wits about him, and remind himself that flirting with his God son’s actual, fucking professor is not a thing that is approved of.

“Uncle Pads!”

Sirius starts, feeling suddenly grounded as Harry bounds towards him and hugs his torso with a tight squeeze. “Hiya Prongslet,” he says, grinning indulgently as he ruffles a hand through Harry’s wild mop of curls.

“Am I coming to yours then?”

“If you’ll have me,” Sirius winks, tapping the bridge of his specs fondly.

“Brilliant! I’ll just tell Professor Lupin.”

Oh, that’s a very sexy name if Sirius does say so himself, though he tries not to marinate on the fact as he waits patiently while Harry leads that absolutely delicious looking man towards him. And God, the way he’s tipping back his head only slightly to meet Sirius’s gaze— It’s lewd.

“You’re Harry’s God father, yes?” Is the first thing Professor Lupin says to him, stretching out a hand that’s all long fingers stained by ink, and knobby knuckles that Sirius suddenly has the insane craving to nip at.

Jesus, he needs to get himself the fuck together.

“Ahem, yes, yes. I’m that. I’m Sirius I mean— Oh, my name, and erm— I’m also serious that I am his God father, that is a thing.” Sirius rambles, feeling like a complete idiot as he takes hold of Remus’s slender hand into his own, and shakes it with two, awkward pumps— holding onto it for a beat too long.

Sirius repeats, fuck James Potter.

“Right,” Professor Lupin says with something akin to amused. “Well he’s only got his maths to finish tonight, and a bit more reading for history.”

“Oh, good. I’ll definitely help with that. I’m great with numbers.”

“Wonderful,” Professor Lupin nods at him before peering down at Harry and grinning widely. “You did great today, just keep up with your novel for Professor Meadows and you’re splendid. Yeah?”

“Thank you Professor Lupin,” Harry preens, chest puffed out not unlike how James had used to do back in their school days every time they won a footie match.

“Nice meeting you Mr— ah?”

“Black!” Sirius quickly offers, straightening up immediately like a rose bud stretching towards the sun. “Sirius Black.”

The corner of Professor Lupin’s mouth twitches up, and Sirius is struck with the searing need to see the full force of his smile directed towards him— and also to snog it right off. “Remus Lupin, just to make things even.”

And fuck.

Sirius swears— hand on his chest and face to God— that it was a flirtatious inflection that Professor Lupin— Remus— used right then, but before he can even have the chance to toy around with the development, a mother in yoga pants and Starbucks strolls in and Remus walks over to greet her hello, and before Sirius knows it, Harry’s tugging on his hand and dragging him out the room.

Damn it.

Despite his total and complete fail of a first meeting with Harry’s sickeningly attractive professor, the rest of the night turns out to go as perfectly as planned. Otherwise known as them stuffing themselves with greasy pizza, and heaps of ice cream, and staying up an hour past Harry’s typical bed time to play Far Cry instead. And if Sirius contemplates asking him more about this elusive Remus Lupin, he bites down the urge and concentrates on sticking his spoon onto his nose before Harry could beat him in their match.

It’s totally fine.

That is until it’s six o’clock in the ruddy morning and he’s woken up by the loud knocking of his front door, only to be met by the grossly chipper faces of Lily and James— that sort of glow is only a thing that happens after a good shag, and Sirius knows that for fact.

“We brought pasties,” Lily tells him as she sashays indoors, red main of hair billowing in the late autumnal breeze and her voice ringing out like she’s some sort of radio show host.

“How was last night?” James asks him as he toes off his boots and follows Lily to the kitchen.

“Fine,” Sirius gripes, still pissy from James’s cruel joke. “Haz is always great.”

“Mmm, I hope Remus didn’t give you any trouble picking him up, you’re on the paperwork and everything but it’s the first time he ever met you and all.” Lily says, faux lightly as she picks out the plates and turns on the electric kettle.

“You knew!” Sirius accuses emphatically, pointing a heated finger her way and then directing it towards James.

“Knew that he is exactly your type?”

“And that you’d look like a tosser talking to him for the first time,” Lily tacks on, giggling.

“Fuck you, and fuck your weird, married telepathy!”

“Nah, not telepathy mate,” James assures, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re just incredibly predictable.”

“We’d have to be thick not to know that you’d be a total idiot around him— You’re the worst whenever you have to talk to pretty people who you actually want to do more than just screw.”

Sirius feels himself go scarlet. “That is an attack on my person, Evans!”

“Yes, dear. I know.” Lily croons, patting him on the cheek like a doting grandmother. “But does it help that I think you should totally go for it.”

“Lily! He’s our son’s teacher!”

“Only for this year,” Lily shrugs, sitting on a stool that lines the island. “Besides, I really like Remus. We have the same cycling class and he taught me how to make my face into an emoji like I’m a Kardashian.”

“You guys talk about’m like he’s the second coming of Christ,” James harrumphs, doling out their mugs with a scowl.

“He’s just so pretty,” Sirius sighs, beyond dejected. “Did you see that little birthmark on his cheek that looks like a butterfly! And Jesus, his eyes are like a third of his face!”

“Don’t forget how well he fills out those trousers for such a skinny bloke,” Lily adds, mixing the honey into the tea that James had just poured her.

“I alas did not get a chance to give his ass the appraisal it warrants,” Sirius bemoans.

“I very much do not like the idea that my best friend and wife are thirsting over the same bloke.” James sniffs.

“Jealous, lover,” Lily leers, laughing at how James wrinkles his nose at them and kisses his cheek in reassurance. But Sirius doesn’t pay them any of his attention, is too distracted by painting the picture of Remus in his mind’s eye, and how he really does need a second look if he loves himself at all.

“He’s like those caramel lollypops from when we were kids,” he tells them unceremoniously. “But instead of that tart middle, he’s just sweetness through the center.”

“You want to lick him, huh?” Lily asks, smirking at him with a lecherous air.

“I want to lick him until he goes mad and begs me to just flip’m over and—“

“Enough!” James quickly cuts in with a smack of the hand against the countertop. “This man is Harry’s professor, I can’t have these sort of images of him while I go to pick him up after class.”

Sirius jerks forwards, beyond excited. “Then let me pick up Haz from school today, yeah? It’ll give me a chance to speak with Remus!”

“Why do you want to talk to Mr Lupin?”

The three adults turn around at once, met by the image of Harry in the spare uniform he keeps at Sirius’s house— hair sleep rumpled and specs askew.

“Hallo my beautiful boy,” Lily grins, her and James each kissing his cheek and giving his shoulders a squeeze as he sits between them.

“Why do you want to talk to Professor Lupin, Uncle Sirius.” Harry asks again, earnestly as he tares apart his cheese and veggie pasty. “Do you like him?”

“Oh, erm—“ Sirius feels his insides squirm, not sure where to step, afraid that his God son might not appreciate the fact that Sirius’s already planning out a reception party for his impending nuptials with Remus.

“I think it’d be cool if you did.”

And in an instant, Sirius feels his shoulders loosen and his smile go elastic. God he loves this kid. “yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Harry nods, taking a sip of his water to clear his throat. “Ron told me that Professor Lupin use to be married to his Uncle Fabs and then they broke up last year, so I bet he’s sad now. And you’re the best person on the planet and you always have fun! You should make him happy again.”

Sirius’s heart seizes, suddenly needing to be the person to help Remus with anything he could ever need.

“You’re a diamond kiddo, you know that?” Sirius says, standing up to lift his eight year old God son into the air and blowing a raspberry to his cheek. “Shove it to your dad, you’ll be my best man at the wedding, yeah?”

“Imma need to start smoking if he’s gonna be this much of a prat all the time now,” James mutters lowly, making it so Lily crows with laughter.

That afternoon finds Sirius parked back outside Harry’s school, straightening the collar of his jacket and combing a hand through his hair. Though once he steps into the nearly emptied classroom, he’s still slack jawed when Remus looks over his shoulder towards the door and grins at him in such a glimmering sort of way, that it punches Sirius in the fucking solar plexus!

“Mr Black, twice in one week?”

“Hah— Yeah.” Sirius hopes his smile comes out more gentle than a grimace. “It’s not far from my work, actually. So I guess I’ll be around more often.” In fact, the drive is a good twenty minutes from his office, but Sirius doesn’t think that’s really relevant.

“Lucky us.” Remus retorts, looking up and down his frame with a slow, languid sort of gaze that makes Sirius feel filleted right open. “Well I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“You can know whatever you want,” Sirius practically sputters, wonders if he should try and act cool, especially now that Harry’s wandered over towards them.

“Is that an open offer?” Remus asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and lying back leisurely against his desk.

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Remus’s beautiful face goes absolutely incandescent right then. “Good.”

“Good,” Sirius repeats, completely devout.

“Oh, before you go,” Remus says, pointer finger raised to freeze them while his other hand fishes into a drawer of his desk. “It’s not a caramel pop, but at least the Tutsi ones are sweet all the way through.”

Sirius feels his jaw completely drop while Remus gently places the stick of the treat into his open hand, tossing him a quick wink before walking off to chat with a new parent who had wandered in.

“Harry— You said what to your teacher.”

“That you said he looked like a caramel pop,” Harry answers, totally owlish and unconcerned.

Sirius contemplates drowning into the lake, but then decides that this is a game he will not lose against Remus.

“All right, Prongslet. Let’s grab us some chocolate eggs and you can tell me everything you know about your dear Professor.”

“Okay, Uncle Pads,” Harry beams.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #spilt ink

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lexpressobean · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Kikaichu as actual Parasites.

Knowing how skin and the body generally works on a medical level, the "hive" aspect of the Aburame clan really drives me crazy. 'Cause parasites are real, obviously, but the size of Kikaichu beetles makes absolutely no sense in comparison to irl skin parasites. At least not in a bee hive sort of way lol

rambling because my mind craves logic and I'm specializing as a wound care nurse but it's literally anime so what do I expect lol

No, wounds don't freak me out, I'm more terrified of generally handling vomit and babies than I am a dehiscence of a 15cm long surgical site lol. The human body can literally take so much abuse before it really starts to give and try to alert you that you need help! And once you give it help, it really can come full circle to the wound 100% looking like it was never there. The body is an amazing thing <3

However the first thing that comes to mind when I hear the word "parasite" is always going to be "tapeworm". That's not gonna change. However, kikaichu are not worms and CERTAINLY don't grow that fucking huge or live that long. (A tape worm can live long enough to graduate with a fucking PhD. Can you believe?) I haven't been exposed to any urgent situations involving parasites yet, however, the one I would compare a Kikaichu to that is (unfortunately) also common is the scabies mite.

Very briefly, scabies mites (Sarcoptes scabiei) are technically a type of arachnid that grow no bigger than a bout 0.5mm in size, but CAN be seen with the naked eye if you're looking for them. They crawl around the skin and burrow specifically in the top layer of skin, called the epidermis. The epidermis is that protective layer of skin and can be between 0.5mm to 1.5mm thick depending on which part of the body you're looking at. After the epidermis, you have the dermal layer, which is where sweat glands, nerves, and capillaries are found. Scabie mites will not burrow that deep because they only burrow to lay their eggs and such. As they do this they can cause visible tunnels and other marks that can be mistaken for acne or other skin conditions if not properly identified. You'll most likely know because the itch is VERY BAD.

They're very easily spread by close contact and a scabies infestation needs to be treated with a prescribed pharmacological means.

However, kikaichu are definitely a lot bigger than 0.5mm. In the case of size, I would compare them at minimum to fruitflies/medflies, which grow up to 3-5mm and maximum to ladybugs 4-7mm.

3-7mm > 0.5-1.5mm... obviously. And the holes which Kikaichu swarm out of that the audience has seen before are about a size comparable Shino's nostrils, IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!!

You're telling me those things were in his mouth?????????? S H I N O N O

That would mean, in realistic terms, the Kikaichu are fucking around in Shino's body to the bone and muscles and THAT'S A REALLY SCARY THOUGHT. Even just passing the epidermis to the dermis is alarming! Compared to the dry, protective epidermis that can and does take damage, the dermis can be 1-4mm thick depending on where you're looking and is where skin does it's business. All together that becomes 0.5-5.5mm of space BARELY big enough for a fruit fly do mess around in. It makes just enough sense in terms of THAT size, but last time I checked, having the skin penetrated to the dermal layer is just asking for infection to happen. You're first natural line of defense has been breeched, there's a pretty good chance you're gonna be bleeding (blood vessels) and general body fluids are going to be draining, which is bad for a multitude of reasons, and there's damage that gonna affect the nerves, and realistically this shit is going to be ABSOLUTELY painful if they're constantly manipulating those areas near nerves. These kinda of things CAN make new connections and things like that, sometimes damage is forever. (Case by case basis).

So my first thought to more or less "magically" solve the problem with anime logic, is that first of all, it's an anime and logic doesn't have to apply haha.

On a more sci-fi level, in which kikaichu are smaller than we've seen them shown, maybe they have been purposefully been allowed to burrow into the dermal layer of the skin at least because the blood vessels seem to be in direct contact with the chakra system. Kikaichu's prefered food is chakra, but they WILL mutiny and eat their respective Aburame from the inside out if they don't balance their chakra smartly. So it's safe to say Kikaichu are at least carnivorous as well, and so I only imagine these absolute nightmares would swarm their prey in the wild, and actively bite through and burrow into the body of the prey until they found the chakra system and went to town on that poor unfortunate soul. Eaten alive, how the hell did they "tame" them in the first friggin' place??

I like to think two things:

1) Kikaichu are passed down from parent to child, and the parent has control over the Kikaichu until they have been RIGOROUSLY trained for generations to comprehend that this baby/child isn't food, it's a new hive. If bees can comprehend time, Kikaichu can comprehend what an Aburame is. If they insist on trying to drain the babe or the babe just can't tolerate them, the parent takes the Kikaichu back and the babe is assigned another insect or position in general. Like hell they're gonna try to force a relationship like that.

2) As part of the successful symbiotic relationship, Kikaichu regularly debride the tunnels and borrows that they carve into their respective Aburame, and are naturally intuitive in avoiding as many nerves and blood vessels as possible. The chance of infection is never 0%, however, kikaichu are pretty good about taking care of their tunnels, and so it gives the Aburame more time to focus on their things, like increasing the amount if chakra in their system. To ensure that they stay healthy, Aburame are encouraged to eat as much protein and Vit C possible every day, whether it be meat, beans, lentils, eggs, oranges, tomatoes, or even supplements as times modernize. The dermis is living tissue and as long as debridement/tunneling is going on, it needs to be nourished as much as possible.

I don't know how the hell Aburame deal with the obvious drainage that would be coming from their bodies, assuming the dermal layer really is free game for the Kikaichu. But the magical solution is that... they don't? Because... drainage is minimal. The Kikaichu just do such a good job lol. Maybe they purposefully... carve entrances to be flappy, or they purposefully create pocket spaces underneath seemingly healed areas of skin to easily burst open when necessary. That's the biggest thing for me, leaking body fluids. There's no way around that shit besides straight up denial lol Maybe they wear a special kind of dressing underneath their clothes, or that's directly applied with their clothes. Maybe that's what that cute little backpack is filled with, who knows!!

Idk man. I'm sure the Aburame authority forces encourages many of their non-hive members to pursue medical nin training in order to give the clan more privacy in general too. All medics that claim the Aburame name are exclusively used by the Aburame Clan. A non-Aburame medic may end up healing tunnels and burrows that were meant to stay open because "oops" and now you have an X amount of insects possibly suffocating within a completely sealed pocket of the skin, and also now there's a very good chance that after those insects die, that whole area is gonna frickin' abscess and cause infection induced tunnels the longer it's left alone and GROSS THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! THERE IS A DELICATE, ORGANIZED, SELF-SUFFICENT PROCESS TO ALL THIS!! A PROCESS!!!

Like... the other ninja in the NartVerse can make as many jokes, jabs, and comments about the Aburame as they please (INO? BITCH??? but to be honest I still love her lol). But these MFers are constantly playing Russian Roulette with these high maintenance demon spawn from hell, and there are VERY little defences against Kikaichu, virtually none. Like the only thing I've ever seen actively thwart Kikaichu across all media is killing them with mass fire, countering them with large amounts of poison gas (both very exterminator like) or literally just feeding them chakra until they're so stupid full, they can't move, the little gluttons. As far as genjutsu, it's been stated that it's both effective and ineffective, so idk about that. But the Aburame are just SO set up to be the living breathing embodiment of Shinobi as defined by the NartVerse. They're whole clan culture relies on the threat of enemies. If they have no enemies, the whole relationship is an exhausting endeavor for literally no reason. It's not worth it if there's no one to fight or protect! But when there is a threat, you want them on YOUR side.

I suppose the best bet is to incapacitate the Aburame individual asap and the Kikaichu will tend the individual, making escape easier. But, if you DID manage to kill that Aburame right away, that particular Aburame's swarm is now suddenly without its food source and without restraint.

What do you THINK is gonna happen, bro?? The second an Aburame loses their grip on their consciousness due to external influences, the bugs go bonkers because I'm pretty sure Kikaichu are simply persuaded to be in this relationship and have NO tolerance for bullshit like alcohol and overheating temps. If their Aburame dies, they probably cause just as much chaos as they would as a wild, unattended swarm. Then YOU BETTER HAVE fire or poison gas or SOMETHING handy. The only way to calm them down is to offer them chakra and a new host with equal or even more chakra reserves. Otherwise the mutineers must be eradicated.

And for serious... Like, any deeper and the kikaichu would be in the hypodermal/subcutaneous layer of the skin and that's where a lot of connective tissue is located. Let's NOT mess with that shit, shall we? NOT a good idea. It's called connective tissue for a reason first and foremost...

#tis i #anime: naruto #shino aburame #aburame shino #if you need me to tag something lemme know #i wouldn't know exactly what to tag #i bet medics DREAD having to work on Aburame because their situations are so complex haha.#the best medic for an aburame would be a hyuuga clansman.#otherwise it's just gonna have to resolve itself cuz if they're unconscious #they can't help you help them

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servingy-nneeds · 3 years

Text

PLEASE DON’T NOTICE ME

WHAT KIND OF YANDERE ARE THEY?: KEIGO TAKAMI (HAWKS) PART 2

TRIGGER WARNING: MANIPULATIVE, Mentions of assault

COMBINATION: MONOPOLY and REMOVAL TYPE

Monopoly type of Yandere tries to monopolize their lover in any way or form. Trying to get you to distrust people, in worse case scenarios wouldn’t let you socialize with other people. Their reasoning that ‘they may harm you’ and that you are far too naive for it to notice. Is extremely inquisitive on who you hang out with and where you are at a particular time.

Removal type of Yandere go through great lengths in order to remove people whom they deemed isn’t worth your attention, everyone. This includes any forms of social interactions digital or physical. After all you have them in your life what more can you ask for.

You always considered yourself as a kind person, willing to always a lend a hand to others. But you never said you were oblivious.

You always took note his sudden shift in behavior whenever the situation involves you. The first time it happened was back when he saved you again for the second time when a drunk forced himself on you. Back when you first met you always thought he viewed you as an annoying person, the twitching polite smile he presented you gave himself away. And then the next thing you knew after politely caring for his non vital wound, he started sticking himself closer to you.

Initially he just wanted to get invited inside your home. After that he started walking you back home, he said “I just happened to be around this area”. And when he randomly showed up in your job one day claiming that your company sponsored one of his commercial, you knew something was up.

“Hey want to have a lunch together? I found this awesome place where they sell these mean ass bbq’d chicken ” an unknown number showed up on your phone one day. Ignoring the message you continued catching up on your report. That is until another message showed up “Sorry, this is Hawks got your number from one of your buddies, told em I know you and stuff, that good with you?”.

You would had simply ignored on how he got your number if not for the fact that you were new at your office, never had this so called “buddy” and worse you never told anyone your personal contact number you always used your company phone for communication.

The weeks after that he started invading your breaks pulling you away before your co-workers had a chance to invite you for lunch breaks. The result? they tend to shy away from you, finding it awkward being close to you when you obviously have a personal relationship with the no.2 pro Hero.

When you tried distancing yourself from him, finding a piss poor excuse on how you cannot accompany him for lunch or dinner, and even refusing to be accompanied on your way home, you openly voiced out your distaste at the idea of being flown back to your apartment. Not wanting your safety be fully in his hands.

“Hey y/n, darling I noticed you’re pretty distant this past days” he spoke to you when he caught you chilling at the company’s roof top one day, well you never thought he would be pretty upfront with your behavior.

“Yeah sorry ‘bout that, someone in my office said that I might be distracting you from hero work and all” you said lying, avoiding eye contact, you knew you were really scraping the bottom for excuse this time. Believing you easily, he never liked your co worker sticking close to you and now they instilled this idea on you now? Well he couldn’t have that. Deciding to prod again at your weakness, mainly that you were oozing with sympathy and easily guilt tripped.

“Well I am a pretty over bearing guy” he said softly looking down on his feet “I grew up pretty much alone in the commission and never really had someone to hang out with, so I just tend to be clingy, really wanted to try out this normalcy once in a while y’know? Sorry ‘bout all this” he said cracking his voice up a bit to further emphasize that he is showing his vulnerable side to cater to your empathetic side.

He really hope it works, otherwise he’d have to go plan B. Kidnapping you isn’t as much fun compared to the idea of you willingly submitting yourself to him.

“Maybe we can hang out at weekends” you said eyes full of sympathy.

Bingo.Next stop those nosy colleagues of yours.

“Hey y/n thank goodness are you ok?” one of your colleagues called out to you one day. Shocked by the sudden unusual approach from a total stranger you asked what the commotion is all about. “You know that guy that was interning for you? Well turns out he has numerous cases of assault, you can never trust anyone this days” she huffed before storming off.

The next was the same girl who approached you willingly trying to warn you. You found out a week later in a daily news that her body was found in the area where you usually commute and was burned to the point of unrecognizable. You voiced your concern to Hawks one day simply because there was no way he would be involved in any of these, after all he is a Hero and doesn’t quite have a quirk that allows him to burn others. He does know someone, but you don’t know that.

With a shaking hand you quickly dialing his phone number and meeting with him within a 10 minutes time frame. “I hate to be that kind of person, especially since I rejected your offer in the past but I really hope you can escort me back home, just this time I swear” you rambled as he hugged you tightly comforting you, giving you a shoulder to cry on for support. Shame you missed the way his eyes glint or the ever growing grin he sported

After courting you for couple of months, you noticed he wasn’t as clingy as before and was quite understanding when you set your boundaries. You thought he changed for you he didn’t. It wasn’t a surprise when you accepted his proposal when he asked you out of blue one day presenting you a ruffled bouquet of flowers and a feather of his own, he claims it was to keep you safe. It’s a tracking device

Going out with him wasn’t as bad as you thought. He plays this boyfriend role perfectly. He had brought you two a matching phone when you accidentally dropped it at a lake during your date when an elderly bumped into you.Though sometimes you voiced out your concern for him that you weren’t accepting important messages at times.

After that he brought you a plush of a duck that looked strangely liked him which you thought was downright adorable and cuddly. Though sometimes when you sleep you feel as if the plush’s beady eye is steadily staring right back at you, but you chalked it up as being paranoid just like these past days whenever you go out without Hawks.

Making you move in with him was next in his plan albeit he had some difficulty convincing you. He insisted it was for your safety. But really it was for his mental well being (1) his flat was considerably more secured, has a lot more advanced locks he’s got access to (2) He can now monitor you 24/7 even without that duck’s help (3) he’ll can finally record your voice whenever he wants, even without the bugged phone and best of all he’s got you all to himself, away from all those damn people that consumes your time.

So here you are now wearing one of his shirts, he pleas with puppy dog eyes that it looks adorable on you, spending another whole day in your shared living room, with nothing else to preoccupy your time. At this point you had no friends, only work buddies, your contact with your relatives even your parents and siblings were seldom to none, they insists it was you who cut them off saying you weren’t answering their calls or messages.

Hawks claimed that they were lying to you and that they didn’t wanted to come out as the bad guy for not talking to you.

Brushing your hands along his hair with a hum, while he lays his head on your lap, he insists it was relaxing therapeutic to him, while trying to watch some type of animated cartoon movie he insists was ‘safe for you to view’.

Moving around he grabbed your waist burying himself to your midsection then he said “You know hawks mate for life?” making you chuckle a bit thinking it was one of his bird jokes. “We’ll see about when you put a ring on this you simp” you said showing your ring finger.

He softly chuckled to himself thinking ‘Yeah you weren’t oblivious, you were dead blind’

Check out Part 1

#bnha x reader #imagines #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #reader insert #bnha imagines #servingy/nneeds

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heavenunderthemoon · 3 years

Note

Can we get JJ and daughter reader where the reader bio father comes back

ROOM 286

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse, blood, death, abandonment.

This piece is extremely angsty, I didn't even mean for it to happen it just kinda came to me while writing last night, enjoy:)

Sanitizer.

It smelled of sanitizer and something else. Something heavy, pulling you down, the scent dragging against the floor as you walked along with it, sneakers hitting the freshly waxed floor with a squeak. What was that smell?

It could have been anything, walking among the halls of that hospital, a hospital you had never been to, a hospital far away from your home, from Quantico.

Blood, maybe. Blood leaving someone else's body, a severe injury or just a small wound. Or blood entering someone else's body. A transfusion, a hope to save someone's life, a wish to stay alive for just a while longer. Blood, scarlet and distinct, heavy and substantial, entering or leaving.

Or death. Perhaps the heaviness was the mere proximity of death that hospitals seemed to have. Hospitals were like a precipice, a border between the living and the dead. Some who entered simply never left, and those who didn't were walking behind you, mirroring your footsteps, following your direction. It was the darkness of death, the souls of those that were lost covering the hospital like a shroud. The weight of those souls, the anger, dread, and our sadness that filled them weighed them down, pulling the hospital with it.

You had never liked hospitals.

"This is his room."

Your mother's voice was taut, laced with pain and something else. Bitterness, maybe? You snuck a glance toward her. She was still dressed in her work clothes, having practically sprinted off the jet to grab you from the house. Her gun was holstered, resting on her hip directly next to her badge that clipped to her belt loop. It gleamed under the fluorescent lights of the hospital, and you looked away, back to your mother's face.

She was crying, albeit small. Tears pooled in her eyes, the bright blue you had stared into for your entire life. Her teeth were sinking into her bottom lip, tiny sniffles escaping every so often, as if attempting to console herself as to not let you hear it. She never liked you to see her cry, not even after those stupid, cheesy romance movies that the two of you rented out every Valentine's Day. The woman was still operating under that archaic belief that once you turned an adult, once you became a parent, your emotions were supposed to simply leave you, become secondary to your child. You wished she wasn't. You wished you could take her hand and let her know she could cry but the entire situation at the moment, the real-life fever dream had you incredibly uncertain of how to handle anything that came next. Your hands clenched in your jacket pockets, glancing back to the room before you.

Room 286.

"Your father is dying, Y/N."

A glance back to Will in the kitchen had made you furrow your brows. The LaMontagne man was whistling as he cooked, fingers clenched around a wooden spoon being used to stir the noodles in the pot. Will was an excellent chef, and you had just gotten your report card back for the first semester- straight A's (and one B, but it was math, and both Will and your mother knew how much you absolutely loathed the subject, and so they took that as a win). The dinner was celebratory in a way, nothing too fancy you didn't like all the fuss, nor did you want to have to make your mother miss a nice dinner in a restaurant that passed out free breadsticks before a meal (she would argue that any restaurant that did so was, automatically her favorite, no matter if the bread was crappy and stale). And so, pasta at home it was, and you had even negotiated Will's famous peanut-butter cookies for dessert. Henry sat on the counter beside him, giggling at his father's horrible dance moves. They were off-beat, choppy, and out-dated, but it made both Henry and you laugh uncontrollably when he did them, and so he continued.

The sun was just setting and your mother was on a case. She liked to call before bedtime when she was away, enough time to coax Henry into a sleepy stupor, to tell him goodnight, and to let you know how much longer she would be gone. You would tell her about your day, and she hers. The two of you would talk for forty-five minutes if she had time, ten if she didn't. But the sound of your phone ringing at dinnertime hadn't made you think anything was wrong. Perhaps she was calling early, or maybe she just wanted to hear your voice. That happened sometimes too, when the cases were especially heinous.

"What?" You asked confusedly. Will was looking at you with a raised brow, mouthing a 'You okay?', to which you didn't quite have an answer for. Instead, you shrugged, holding up a finger as a signal to give you a minute, before you were exiting the room. The playroom was a mess, Henry rarely ever picked up his toys. You sidestepped two matchbox cars before you stepped on a lego, hissing at the pain and walking over it irritatedly. For as small as he was, he sure could create a mess.

A pregnant pause.

"It's Christopher." Another pause. You were starting to hate those. "Your birthfather... He's dying."

Your breath seemed to have been stolen, and the last of your air hitched in your throat, eyes becoming unfocused. How were you supposed to react to this? You weren't entirely sure. your birth father, a man you didn't know, a stranger, really. You didn't know anything about him.

Horrible thoughts began to flood your mind.

You didn't know what he looked like. You inherited a lot of traits- too many traits, honestly- from your mother, so you had never thought to ask. You were a bit taller than your mother...was that him? Was that his genetics coming into play? What color eyes did he have? What did his smile look like? You didn't know small things either. How did he like his eggs cooked? What method of shoe-tying did he prefer (bunny loops or round-a-bouts)? Dogs or cats? Movies or books? Did he watch T.V. with the captions on or off? You didn't know his favorite book genre, or band, or what foods he didn't like. You didn't know any of these things about him, about your father.

You knew these things about Will, of course. Because when you thought of 'father', Will was the first thing that came to mind. It had been that way for a while, so perhaps the fulfillment of the 'father' role in your brain was obscuring your mind, but you were wracking your brain to remember the last time you had thought of your brith father. But, then again, maybe you shouldn't have, because now, flashing before your mind were not saccharine , wholesome stories, but memories of empty chairs in audiences, uncelebrated Father's days, and 'Father-daughter' dances with Derek, or Reid, or Hotch. Sour thoughts and memories of an absentee father who left your mother in the lurch, abandoned her in her time of need, was that bad to think of he was dying? Were you supposed to be nice now? You weren't sure the rules of this arrangement.

"What?" It was weak and strangled, as if someone had clutched your throat right then and there and squeezed.

"He's at Saint Mercer's. It looks like an overdose, he had a stroke. It was too much for his body, and the doctors declared him brain dead. I was his emergency contact, and..." Your mother was speaking, rambling from the tone of her voice. She was in shock, surely, and you were only half-listening.

An overdose.

You wondered what you'd find on the other side of the door.

"Are you ready?"

Your mother was speaking, but she didn't sound like she was...there. You were sure she wasn't. No, she hadn't been there ever since she had gotten you, taken you to that airport, boarded you on the first flight out, planted you both in front of room 286 in Saint Mercer's Hospital. Her eyes were glazed over, as if replaying every single moment with the man she had once known , the man she had created another child, her first child, with. A man she hadn't seen for entirely too long, and a man she hadn't ever expected to see again. A man she wouldn't even recognize, surely, because he wasn't a man when he left. You weren't sure if he had ever become a man. To your mother, he had been a boy, just a boy and a girl, in childish love, until they weren't.

"Are you?" You countered, eyes glued onto the wooden door separating you and a man you should know, but had no relation to.

For the fist time that night, she smiled.

She smiled because despite it being the most unfair situation in the world- a situation in which she was placed as an emergency contact for a man who intentionally left her when she was pregnant with his child (placed as an emergency contact in hopes to either advocate for them to try harder to save his life, or to let him go if need be, which, ironically, he had abandoned her completely without regards to treat her reciprocally)- you were there. You, her shining hope, a silver lining in the entirety of it all. You were the one thing that made her not regret a single decision she had made with the man, made her not regret meeting him in the first place, because she had gotten you. Your hair was shoved into a baseball cap, Will's, she recognized. It usually hung on the coat rack by the door, the man tugging it on whenever he went to the store or to pick Henry up from school. It was sun-damaged, tearing at the lip, but he refused to buy a new one because 'that just means it was well-loved, JJ.'. And now it sat on your head, a hat that belonged to a man you had met six years ago, a man you called Dad, willingly and without any input from her. You, a girl who had gone without a father for so long. Years of Father's Day cards, heart-wrenchingly sweet cards made out to Reid, or Derek, or Hotch because they volunteered to take you to your dances, even if she had offered to go, because you said you didn't think it would be allowed for her to crash it. Cards made out to her, thanking her for being both the mom and the dad (those tended to make her cry a lot). Years of ballet recitals, soccer games, spelling bees, silly school graduations, all of which she happily attended, but attended alone. All the nights of fevers and stomach aches and sniffles and dry throats. All the diaper changes and reverse cycling. All the scraped knees, busted elbows, trips to the ER. And now you were here, in front of the man who had abandoned you before you had even let out your horridly beautiful wail. JJ felt so many emotions at once, swelling within her that she reached out, grabbing your hand.

You weren't sure if it was to comfort you or herself, but you took it, entering the room as she opened it.

Machines.

Lots and lots of machines.

They stood at attention by his bedside, beeping and humming so loudly you weren't sure your thoughts would be able to tear their way through your mind anymore. Perhaps stat was a good thing.

There he was, lying in the bed before you. A standard hospital blanket was draped across his lower half. It was cream and thin, you recalled your days spent in a hospital not too long ago, how much you had hated it then. Those blankets were always itchy and uncomfortable, and you had all but forced Penelope to bring you one from home, to which she happily obliged, toting an assortment of stuffed animals as well (you argued you were too old for them, to which she had responded that no one was too old for comfort brought about by a stuffed animal.). His hands were resting limply at his sides, and you forced your eyes to skip over his arms, the damage an indicator of the activities he had chosen over taking care of you for the past decade.

When you reached his face you tilted your head. His face was sullen, cheeks sunken in, lips dried and caked in dead-skin. A redness spread about his face, a sunburn, perhaps, but you weren't sure. His hair, brittle and receding, was brown and you wondered of you had gotten anything from the man. A small part of you hoped you didn't. Looking at him now, you weren't sure if you wanted to. A sudden thought popped into your mind and you turned to your mother, who seemed to try to be looking anywhere but the man before her.

"What color were his eyes?"

They were shut now, and he almost looked...peaceful.

JJ lips parted, eyes coming to meet yours. "Brown." She said softly. Her hand was still in yours and you didn't make a move to drop it.

You nodded, glancing back to him. Something was missing, you gazed around the small hospital room to find what it was before it came to you. "Where is everyone? His family, or friends? Do they know he's here?" You looked back to the man, eyes following the rise and fall of his chest created by the ventilators attached to him.

The blonde stiffened, looking at her shoes. "They do. They won't come." With a clear of her throat, she was glancing back to you, your face softening as your teeth took your lip in their hold.

He was alone.

Was that by choice? Or had he run away from them like he had run away from you and your mother?

The doctor entered the rom, signaling for your mother to speak with her, and she left with a squeeze of your hand, leaving you with...him.

What were you to call him? Christopher? Dad?

Alone.

He was alone. His parents weren't coming to see him, he didn't have any friends. No loved ones to hold his hand in his time of need, to tell him it was going to be okay, to tell him that he was safe, and loved, and would be remembered. Regardless of his past actions, you felt...awful. Looking at him, you couldn't feel anything other than immense sympathy, because he had pushed away everyone and everything in his life, and he was left with nothing. You pondered his appearance, wondering what he must have looked like back when he had met your mother, what had drawn her in to him, made her love him and want him and that thought train had you reaching for his hand. Your mother didn't love without reason. She was logical, and fair-minded, and welcoming, and you knew that if she had loved a man, the man before you, it must've been for a good reason. And so, you couldn't judge him based on what was before you, because that was a result of all of his bad choices, all of his digressions and, yes, they were horrible, but they had also allowed your mother to meet Will. It allowed them to have Henry, it allowed you to have a family, a perfect family, and now all you felt was sympathy. No anger. No pain. Just sadness.

His hand was warm, surprisingly. What would it have been like to grow up with his hand, one to put in yours when you crossed the street, to feel your forehead when you said you felt sick, to help tie your shoes when you were still learning?

The beeps of the machines sang louder as you stepped closer.

"Nice to meet you." You said softly, closing your eyes for just a moment. Just enough time for you to feel the weight of his hand in yours, to reassure yourself that this was real, that you were there, before you were opening them again.

When you did, your mother was back in the room.

Your mother's heart almost broke when she entered. The doctor needed her signature, needed a confirmation that they could remove life support, and her shaky hand had signed beside the 'x' with tear-filled eyes. And when she returned back to that godforsaken room, a room in which she felt all the air was removed, a room in which she felt suffocated, she saw you. Your hand in his, an image she had imagined in her head over and over and over again when you were growing up, a pipe dream, really. A dream in which he suddenly got his act together, came back to find the both of you, declared his love for her, and begged for forgiveness for leaving. It was a dream that she wasn't even sure she wanted to happen so much as wondered if it would. Because you two didn't need him, she would attest that you two didn't need anyone, not really. Not before Will and Henry. You two were strong and independent. Jareau women were fighters. But still, she had thought about Christopher, and now that dream was shattered because instead of him holding flowers, he was hooked up to a life support machine, brain dead and unresponsive.

She wanted to yell. She wanted to yell and laugh and cry because this wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. She wanted to stomp her feet and throw herself to the floor like a toddler throwing a tantrum but it just...wasn't fair. She couldn't yell at him because he couldn't respond. She couldn't yell at him, because he was practically already dead, and he had left the decision for someone to give him the final blow to her. Her, a woman he had neglected, and your hand was in his, and everything was wrong.

Her feet took her to you, despite every cell in her body attempting to make her turn around.

"They're gonna unplug him, right?" She had told you on the way there that it was a strong possibility, depending on his state. But saying it aloud made it feel much more real. It shouldn't feel so absurd, you scolded. He was never in your life anyway, it wouldn't particularly make a difference. But, in some strange, bizarre way, it did It made a difference because now, Christopher wasn't just some man who abandoned you, he was a dead man who abandoned you.

"Yes." Her voice was small, and you latched onto her once more.

"He's all alone." You said with a frown, and she removed her hand from yours, instead, choosing to drape her arm across your shoulder and bring you into her embrace. Doctors were beginning to enter the room, beginning to explain what each machine did, the consequences of unplugging it, and then doing so quietly, though neither of you were listening.

"He is." She nodded, blonde hair rubbing against the side of your face.

You both stood silent for a moment watching the doctors continue.

"Tell me about him. When you loved him."

JJ sucked in a breath. She had only thought about the bad for so long, only thought about the moment his hand was no longer hers, his retreating figure as she clutched that pregnancy test in her hand, that panic in her chest as she realized she would have to do this alone. "He transferred to my high school in my sophomore year. Everybody went nuts. We didn't get new people in town...ever. But there he was. His hair was a mess," She glanced toward you, a soft smile replacing the frown she had been wearing. "Kinda like yours when you wake up."

"Hey." You mumbled into her shoulder, but you laughed all the same.

"We had a few classes together and he never let me forget it. Chris bugged me almost every minute of them, passing me notes, trying to talk to me, asking me out. I swore I wouldn't, I was too focused on soccer. But, he wore me down."

You rose a brow. "Wore you down? I didn't think that was possible."

She chuckled, the vibrations from it were felt on your cheek. "It wasn't before him. He was...different. He was a total music snob, spent almost all his money on the latest releases. He liked to take me swimming, said everything, all the bad things and all the troubles just floated away when you were in the water."

You looked back to the man in the bed, the doctors having turned off all the machines by now. Now, it was just a waiting game.

"That sounds silly." You whispered.

"It was. But, then again, so was he. He was carefree, spirited, and laid back. He hated the thought of having to grow up one day, said that being an adult was a life sentence to nowhere. Your grandparents hated him, but I didn't care. He was my first love."

You took in all the information, watching the ragged rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his wheezing making you cringe. "Would he have been good dad, you think?"

JJ thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. He chose to run. But I don't think he was suited for being a dad. I think he wouldn't have liked the responsibility of it all." She said thoughtfully, squeezing your shoulder before she was placing her head atop yours. "I know, without a doubt, that he would have loved you, though."

A snort escaped your lips. "Really?" You asked doubtfully.

"Oh, for sure. I think that if he had met you, he would have tried his best to be there, to be there for you. You both do that thing when you get mad, where you nose twitches like a little bunny and it's so cute that no one can ever stay mad at you. Or when you're tired, your eyes droop down and you can sleep instantly, no matter where you are. You both like rock music, and comedy movies, and blankets when they're fresh out of the dryer-"

"I don't think anyone can hate blankets when they're fresh out of the dryer."

She chuckled. "And you both hate peas. I swear, I tried to feed them to you when you were little and you actually scoffed at me. A seventh month old baby, scoffing at me."

"Hmm, wonder where I learned that from."

JJ rolled her eyes. "And you both have a big heart. Sometimes, his heart was so big, that he didn't quite know what to with it. You're better with following it, but you both have it. Just, too much love to give, and he never knew where to place it."

Silence settled over the two of you once more, the wheezing become quieter.

It was just you and her. You and her and the man in the bed. Her arms around you, chin atop your head as you lay in the crook of her neck.

"Are you sad?" you asked softly.

She took three breaths before she answered. "Yes."

You looked back at Christopher, imagining a relationship, one that included movie nights and car rides filled with shared music interests and dinners that revolved around your hatred of snow peas. But the image was foreign and fleeting, and all you could see was Will in your kitchen, producing horrible dance moves and whistled melodies. You could only see Henry shaking you awake. Reality reminded you of the life you actually lived, one without a Dad for a small amount of time, and then finding one. A life without Christopher. Your life and his. Ones that should have been lived together, but never were.

"Me too."

And the wheezing ceased.

Well damn. ANYWAYS, I’m so happy people are liking my JJxdaughter!reader content. It’s so strange because I really thought it wouldn't get much attention so that’s a fun surprise. Let me know what you think about this piece!

#Jennifer Jareau x daughter! reader #jennifer jareau x reader #Jennifer Jareau #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 4 years

Text

sleeping on the blacktop

pairing: harry styles x reader

warnings: angst, descriptions of a car accident, blood, gore, mentions of death, vomiting, medical terminology (that i know absolutely nothing about !! i am not a doctor or an emt—almost all of my knowledge is from an anatomy class or tv so—don’t come for me pls), my ramblings about fate and free will, i also gave the baby a name (sorry if you don’t like it :( i just hate having y/d/n, ya know? too much work)

word count: 8.5k

synopsis: while harry is away on tour, his wife and baby get into a car accident

author’s note: please, be mindful of the warnings and don't read if you're uncomfortable with anything mentioned and sorry for the sort of rushed ending... other than that, i hope you enjoy! xx all the love

masterlist

—

“You don’t need to do that,” Anne says from behind her, and Y/N flinches, nearly dropping a plate. She got lost in her thoughts, staring out the window in Anne’s kitchen.

“You cooked. It’s the least I can do,” she says. Anne grabs a rag and dries some of the dishes. Gemma is keeping Rhiannon occupied in the next room, and from the peals of laughter, it’s the happiest she’s been in days. Y/N sighs, wiping her pruned hands on a paper towel. If she’s being honest, she’s not doing too well; Rhia has had a hard time adjusting to not having Harry around all the time, causing a varied sleep schedule and more bouts of fussiness in general, and Y/N struggles keeping up.

“How’re you doing?”

Y/N hesitates. She contemplates lying. She doesn’t need one more person worrying for her, and she doesn’t want people to think that she can’t take care of her own child by herself. Harry already worries enough, even though she’s assured him many times that he doesn’t need to be.

She knows that he feels guilty for not being there all the time, but she would never force him to stop touring and doing what he loves, partly because she’s afraid he’ll resent her. Despite him being across an entire ocean, she never feels like he is far; he’s always willing to stop anything when she calls, and he tries his hardest to talk with her twice a day. She always keeps him as involved as possible, sending daily updates and photos.

“It’s tough,” she admits, “but it’s getting better, no need to worry about me.” She offers Anne a weak smile.

“Can’t help it,” she says, pinching her cheeks lightly.

Noticing the dimming sky, the sun sinking below the line of trees in the yard, Y/N sighs.

“We should probably go,” she mutters, slipping into the next room. Despite how tired she is, she can’t help the smile that takes over her face when Rhiannon looks up at her, showing her gums.

“Time to go, bug,” she says, light and lilting. Rhia kicks her legs, making her almost lose her balance. She’s too confident for her own good, like her father; she’s only just started sitting up on her own and thinks she can wiggle around without falling.

“You sure you’re okay to drive, love?” Anne asks from behind her. Y/N rolls her eyes, yet smiles fondly at her protectiveness.

“We’ll be fine. It’s only a few minutes away.”

Ever since Harry left for tour, Y/N has been staying in their lake cottage to be closer to Anne. It’s only a quick 20 minute drive away, which has been helpful during the days when Y/N needed to catch up on sleep, and Anne is always happy to help. She didn’t like to do that very often, feeling like she was taking advantage of her mother-in-law.

The cottage was a cute little thing, perfect for just the two of them, and Y/N was glad to get out of their shared home; it was too big and empty for just her and Rhia. Harry was always able to liven up any place they were at, but now that he’s gone, it felt hollow and dismal.

“You know you’re welcome to stay here. I’ve got plenty of room,” Anne tries to convince her one last time. As much as Y/N appreciated her worrying, she didn’t want to impose, and she’s sure that Anne wouldn’t want to listen to a fussy baby, even though she would deny it to the end of her days.

Y/N puts Rhia in her coat with little resistance, which is surprising, but she only had a short little nap that afternoon, and they had a busy day.

“I know, Anne, but I don’t want to intrude,” Y/N says. “Besides, Rhia sleeps better in our bed, and you need all the sleep you can get, don’t ya?” She tickles her daughter’s little bloated belly, making her giggle sweetly. Once she’s strapped in, the baby stretches and tries to put Y/N’s fingers in her mouth.

“You know I worry about you,” Anne sighs, kneeling next to Y/N.

“No need to worry,” Y/N smiles. Anne tucks the woven green blanket under Rhiannon’s legs. It’s the same blanket Harry had when he was a baby, barely held together with a few threads and love. Y/N stands, hoisting the carrier up to her hip.

“Call me when you get home, yeah?”

“Course,” she says, pressing a kiss to Anne’s cheek.

When they’re settled in the car, Anne stays out on the porch, watching them until they’re safely on the road, offering a wide smile and an air kiss. Y/N is so thankful to have her shoulder to lean on.

It’s a clear night, which Y/N is thankful for, no fog or rain, which isn’t an often occurrence. She stops at a sign, brakes squealing slightly. She stays there for a second, feeling the familiar burn of exhaustion behind her eyes. She rests her forehead against the steering wheel.

“Da, da,” Rhiannon mumbles. Y/N reaches behind her, barely able to reach her on the opposite side of the back seat, and she grabs onto her fingers.

“I know, peach,” Y/N sighs, “Miss daddy, too.”

She never considered how fragile life could be until she met Harry, not in the sense that death is an imminent and constant force, more in the sense that everything, her goals, her view on life, and her priorities, shifted when she met him. He became her influence, and she was willing to go through hell or high water just to be with him.

In summation, it takes all but five seconds for your life to completely change, for better or for worse.

There are dozens upon dozens of tiny events that build up and push you toward that one big moment that will change your life. Nothing is set in stone; different choices lead you down different paths, and your paths are constantly changing, either for better or worse, and slowly but surely, you’ll finally reach the top of that mountain. Every choice you questioned, every sacrifice you made, will come together in due time, just know that you’re working toward a greater purpose.

Y/N has never been a big believer in fate, that everything is beyond your control and that everything is already set in stone, but perhaps there is some truth to it. Fate could have pushed her to leave home when she was young. Fate could have put her on a safe and stable path when she went to university that landed her a good job when she was fresh out of her internship, and fate could have brought Harry into her life.

But she will never claim fate as a sole guide to her life. Fate is not responsible for her success nor her mistakes; that was all because of her hard work and integrity, her youth and ignorance. To her, fate is simply an excuse. People want to put blame on something, and when things seem out of their control or when they make bad decisions, they don’t feel quite as guilty. They’re willing to take credit for good things that happen but won’t when it affects them negatively.

Say, perhaps, that fate brought Y/N to that intersection, then maybe it was fate that planted the trees that obscured her vision; perhaps, it was fate that made the lights in the post go out that evening.

If so, fate has a twisted sense of humor.

If not, why wouldn’t fate give her any time to react before the impact?

How could fate be so cruel?

—

Working as an EMT, there are always certain risks you accept when you are on the clock; not only are you surrounded by an unbelievable pressure, there is always the ominous cloud looming overhead, a thin thread between life and death threatening to break at any moment, and it’s your job to keep them stable until they arrive at the hospital.

Not too hard, right?

Being able to save people from the brink of death and reuniting families makes almost everything worth it, but there are always scenes that stick with you for the rest of your life, and for Leslie Greene, this is one of them.

What stands out the most is the sound of a crying baby.

She’s seen some very horrific accidents: cars that have been reduced to nothing more than a ball of cheap scrap metal, with blood coating the shattered glass, to DOA’s, where the impact made them look unrecognizable. She has seen a lot of unspeakable things and had a lot of good people die on her watch.

But never has she ever had a baby present at any accident scene. That’s new.

Those cries will probably haunt her for the rest of her life.

“I didn’ see ‘em,” the man slurs from the police car. He has a bloodied lip and a slight bruise forming around his neck from the seat belt. The stench of rum rolls off him with every breath. He sits back, eyes dull and hooded, like he doesn’t even realize what he’s done.

Another EMT meets with her half-way to the other vehicle, lodged against the ditch across the way.

“Driver side sustained some serious damage. The baby has no discernible injuries, but another ambulance is a minute out to take her.”

From the driver’s side, Leslie can see the baby on the opposite side of the backseat, the car seat still tightly in place. The baby flails about, legs and arms kicking with strength. The car is twisted and mangled, but most of the damage is on the driver’s side, the door latched closed. Shattered glass cracks beneath her boot.

When they’re finally able to get the car door open, the woman, barely even mobile, opens her eyes slightly, but she flinches back at the bright lights. Blood drips down from her hairline, bruises already forming on her eyes from the impact on the steering wheel. Blood pools on the leather seat as she shifts with discomfort.

James, a newbie who has never been to a scene with this much damage, breathes out shakily. Leslie turns to see his lips curling, close to dry heaving.

“Go get the baby, yeah?”

He nods quickly, pale in the face, and scurries to the other side. The baby is soothed only momentarily before her wails continue. The woman’s eyes snap open fully this time, panic clear on her features. She tugs fruitlessly on the seat belt, a pained groan leaving her when she moves too quickly.

“Please, don’t move. My name is Leslie. I’m here to help.” She presses a hand to her chest, feeling the woman’s racing heart. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she grits out, her eyes fluttering dangerously. From how she reacted to the lights, she probably has a concussion. Leslie cuts the seat belt, and glass falls onto the blacktop, clinking musically until they settle, like they’re sleeping. Through the gloves, she can feel how warm she is, sweat beading down from her forehead. Glass has settled in the divots of her wool sweater, but not before cutting her skin, caking the pearl necklace peeking from the neckline in blood.

“Y/N, I need you to turn a bit. I need to see where the bleeding is coming from,” Leslie says softly, inching her slowly onto her side. She sighs as more blood pools, gushing down her back and soaking her jumper further. It’s from a rib that broke through the skin. She can only hope that they didn’t puncture an organ.

“Does that hurt?” She asks as she puts pressure on the skin.

“No,” Y/N whimpers, eyes fluttering closed. When they get her on the stretcher, with minimal blood loss, she stirs with life again, her trembling hand reaching onto the sleeve of Leslie’s shirt, painting it red.

“Rhiannon—my baby girl—is she…” She swallows back tears.

“She’s fine.” Leslie knows that it’s unwise to lie to a patient; perhaps, she’s not entirely lying, but it’s never a good idea to give a victim a sure diagnosis without actually knowing anything. There may have been no physical signs of trauma to the baby, but internal problems are a very real possibility that they won’t know of until they get to the hospital.

She knows that she shouldn’t lie. It takes seven minutes to get to the nearest hospital, but it’s time that Y/N may not have; despite how quickly they were able to get her into the ambulance, she’s losing a lot of blood.

“Thank you,” Y/N sighs in relief, clutching onto her hand. Her wedding ring nearly cuts through the gloves from the pressure.

“Of course,” Leslie says, easily putting her on an IV.

“My husband,” she gasps suddenly, her arm jerking about. “Harry—he—he’s gonna be worried. ‘M supposed to call. He has to tell her goodnight—“

“Y/N, relax,” Leslie coos. “We will contact your husband. You need to focus on yourself, yeah? Don’t close your eyes, Y/N.”

Leslie can see the fear in her eyes; it’s something she’s grown very familiar with, but it’s not just fear for her own survival. She can see how scared she is for her family. She struggles to keep her eyes open, resilience and weakness fighting for power. Like any mother, she’s fighting for her family. She’s fighting to be able to hold onto and kiss them one more time.

She is trying so hard to fight for her family.

But at the same time, it’s so easy to give in.

“If I don’t make it,” she slurs, breathing quickly out of her nose. The blood from her nose slips down into her mouth, making her cough.

“Don’t say—”

“If I don’t, I need you to tell Harry that I love him, and that…” She lets out a pained whimper, struggling to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“This wasn’t your fault, love.”

Her lip quivers, teeth chattering.

“I’m just sorry for everything.”

Leslie knows exactly what that means. She’s making amends, apologizing for not being able to fight. A lone tear slips from her eye, but Leslie wipes it away.

“I will.” She promises, gripping her hand tighter.

Only two more minutes.

Y/N gives her a thankful nod, and as if she has finally made peace with the world, she falls limp, the light leaving her eyes.

—

Harry has always enjoyed New York, and it’s not very often that he is able to stay for longer than one night. There is just something about it that’s completely different from London or L.A. that he likes about it; He couldn’t imagine actually living there, with the massive crowds and fluctuating weather, but it’s a nice place to visit, very different from what he’s used to.

He’s halfway through the tour for his most recent album, and New York is the last stop before he gets a short break to go home. He has a show tonight at Madison Square, a radio interview in the morning, and then, he’s home free. He’s been looking forward to this break before the tour even began. Don’t get him wrong, he loves performing and meeting fans and traveling the world, but now that he has a family, it gets more and more difficult not being there for the people who need him most.

“So, I heard,” the interviewer begins, smiling widely.

Sadly, Harry has already forgotten his name. The interview was supposed to be a short little thing for social media, only supposed to take 20 minutes, so he could prepare for the concert that evening, but it’s been nearly an hour, and there are no signs of stopping any time soon. Harry holds off yet another yawn, the lack of sleep from the night before washing over him. He’s having trouble focusing.

“You’ve got a baby girl.”

“Yes,” Harry beams. Even though he wants to keep his baby out of the limelight, he can’t help the excitement that fills his chest whenever she's mentioned. He can easily go on and on about how wonderful and sweet and perfect she is. He tugs on his pearl necklace, biting on his lips to keep quiet. He and Y/N agreed that it would be best for Rhia to grow up as normally as possible, which meant only posting about her on his private social media and avoiding busy places so as to not be seen, but some things were simply unavoidable, like interviewers trying to get him to let something about her slip to get their five-minutes-of-fame. It seems rude of him to completely ignore their questions, so he just sticks to very short, vague answers.

“How are you adjusting to fatherhood?”

“Uh,” he laughs, fiddling with his wedding ring. “It was a struggle to begin with. I will admit that, but it’s getting better. We’re still learning how to adjust to everything.”

He says it like he’s actually there, actively helping Y/N, even though he's on the other side of the world. He hasn’t seen his daughter in nearly two months; video chats have absolutely nothing on the real thing. He isn’t helping Y/N put Rhia to sleep when she’s feeling particularly fussy or feeding her at two in the morning, so Y/N can finally get some well-deserved sleep, and he’s not there to play with her or comfort her.

It feels like he’s lying.

He’s a sad excuse of a father. That’s what he really is.

The thought makes the smile fall from his face, but he’s quick to force another one; if there’s anything that he’s learned after years in the public eye, it’s how to fake emotions. The interviewer gives him an understanding smile. He’s older, but not too old, only having a few years on Harry, age wise, but the wrinkles beside his eyes and the nicked ring on his finger suggest years of familial experience.

“I completely understand. I have three boys of my own, and—”

“I am so sorry,” Jeff, Harry’s savior, says suddenly from behind the camera. “D’ya mind if I borrow Harry for a second?”

The interviewer nods.

“No problem. Take 15?”

Harry feels a twinge of guilt as he stands quickly from the chair, happy to finally have a break.

“Thanks,” Harry sighs, brushing past Jeff to the refreshment table. “‘M exhausted. Maybe it’s ‘cause of Rhi, but every little thing wakes me up. Swore I heard her cryin’ last night.” Jeff is quiet, fiddling with his hands nervously. Harry doesn’t notice how quiet the man has gotten, and he opens a bottle of water, rifling through his bag.

“Isn’t it almost 3? Y/N should be callin’ soon.”

“Harry,” Jeff says again, stronger this time. Harry still doesn’t notice how his voice breaks slightly, wobbly and hesitant.

“Yeah?” Harry drinks nearly half of the water, not sparing a glance up. He fishes for his phone, only to remember that he left it in the car. He sighs and turns. That’s when he finally notices how shaken up Jeff is, pale and nervous.

“What’s up? Look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he laughs, downing the rest of his water before tossing it in the bin.

“Harry,” Jeff says again, soft and somber, and it makes Harry stop. Dread settles in his stomach, deep and heavy. Jeff has never been one to be the bearer of bad news, and he tended to beat around the bush. “Why don’t you sit down?” Jeff tries to guide Harry over to the cheap stool in the corner of the room, but he rips his arm from his grasp.

Harry has never been one to let his mind run wild; he’s the calm one, who looks at reason and logic. He's the one to tell everyone that everything’s going to be fine; he’s the one who takes everything in stride, like water rolling down his back. Bumps in the road are nothing. He’s the one that comes up with solutions and executes them with ease, but with the way Jeff is treating him, his heart races.

“What?”

“There’s been an accident,” Jeff says slowly, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

It takes a second for Harry to process his words, but when he does, he stumbles back.

His mind automatically tries to reason with itself, that maybe it has nothing to do with him. Perhaps, something went wrong at the venue, and they would have to postpone, lengthening his stay for only a couple more days. Maybe, Mitch got food poisoning and will be unable to play that evening. There are dozens of reasonable explanations as to why Jeff pulled him aside, but Harry knows, deep down, that he wouldn’t have such a mournful look in his eyes, if it isn’t anything less than very serious.

Okay, fine, there was an accident. That could mean so many different things. An accident doesn’t even necessarily mean that they are in grave danger; they could be walking away unscathed.

“W-what? I-i-is it Gem? Mum?” Endless scenarios flicker in his mind, each one worse than the last. The one thing that he doesn’t even consider is it being Y/N or Rhiannon. His mind refuses to go down that road; if it did, there’s no way of knowing how he would react. He doesn’t even consider the possibility of them being in trouble. He hates how long Jeff is taking to tell him, as if holding off will soften the blow. Irritation starts bubbling below the surface, and he finds it hard to keep calm.

“Harry,” he says, shaking his head. “Anne called me. There was a drunk driver, and they’re headed to the hospital now—”

“They?”

His heart stops for a second, and it feels like his chest collapses in on itself. His body feels like it’s reacting to a stressful situation, with adrenaline and fear and anger, but Harry isn’t thinking with a grieving mind; it’s cloudy and slow, delusional, even. He shakes his head.

“No,” Harry mutters, taking a step forward. He can feel tears burn in his eyes, and he makes no move to wipe them. “It wasn’t…” Harry can’t finish the question. It makes him nauseous. Jeff nods solemnly, which, in any other circumstance, would have been answer enough. “Say it,” Harry snaps.

It’s unreal, like a dream. This didn’t happen to him, not his family.

They’re safe. There’s just been a mistake. That’s the only reasonable explanation to everything. Someone made a mistake. Maybe a fan thought it would be funny to pretend to be his mum, and they somehow got Jeff’s number. It had to be a horrible, awful, repulsive joke to get some attention or something; as implausible as that seems, it’s the only thought that makes sense to him because he can’t possibly understand the weight of the truth. He doesn’t know if he can handle it.

His girls are fine.

They have to be.

“Harry—” Jeff tries to calm him down, seeing a bright red flush to his skin, frustration seeping through every pore. Anger isn’t becoming of Harry; Jeff has only seen him angry a couple of times, but never to this extent: red in the face, words shaky, eyes glassy.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“It was Y/N and Rhiannon.”

That is the absolute last thing that he wanted to hear.

Even though, deep down, he knew that they were in trouble. From the first moment Jeff said his name to how sickly he looked when he told him to sit down, Harry knew, deep in his heart and mind, that his family is in trouble. He just wasn’t willing to accept it or even think about it, as if that could change reality. Until Jeff said those five words that confirmed his worst nightmare.

And he feels his world come crashing down, but he’s stuck, frozen, mind not moving nearly as fast as it should be.

“My—my…” He stutters, throat closing. “My girls?” The ache in his chest increases tenfold, and he holds onto his, feeling the racing of his heart and his quick breathing. “You’re fuckin’ with me,” he scoffs, rage building. He shakes his head with denial. “What kind of fuckin’ prick—”

“I wouldn’t joke about—”

Harry knows that. Y/N and Jeff are close. Hell, they even considered making him their daughter’s godfather. Jeff would never joke about something this serious, and Harry knows that, but he isn’t willing to accept the reality because the reality is nearly too much for him to comprehend, to carry on his already weak shoulders.

“No, they’re not,” Harry closes his eyes, hands slipping through his hair like it normally does when he’s anxious. He tugs on it, but the pain is nothing compared to the sick feeling in his stomach or the crack in his pounding heart. He honestly feels like he’s going to be ill or pass out, feeling his mouth dry up, his hands clamming up, and he begins to feel light-headed.

“Y/N’s just about to call me. It’s Rhi’s bedtime.” He rambles, not listening to Jeff.

They can’t be going to a hospital. He talked to Y/N just this morning when he couldn’t fall asleep. He spoke about his worries and doubts and guilt that he felt for being so far away from them, and Y/N soothed all of his fears and reservations, reminding him why he does what he does. Before she left, she told him that she loved him, and he could hear Rhi babbling away in the background, content and happy and safe.

“There’s a plane leaving in a half an hour—”

“And I sing to her. That's the only way she’ll sleep through the night. She hasn’t been sleepin’ very well these past few days,” he says, lost in his thoughts. His words begin to slur.

“Harry, listen to me,” Jeff says, holding onto his shoulders, trying to keep him grounded, from falling apart. Harry doesn’t get anxious often, but when he does, everything comes to a startling halt; he’s not used to it, and he lets it overwhelm him until he can’t function. That’s the last thing anyone needs.

“No, no, they’re fine. They’re fine. They’re—” He swallows, and like a wave, realization dawns on him, drowning him. His family is in the hospital, and he’s not there with them. “Oh, god,” he cries, feeling bile burn his throat. He sinks to his knees, hand pitifully covering his mouth to keep from vomiting. His vision darkens. It feels like the walls are crumbling down, and he’s stuck, frozen and alone, with no one coming to save him.

Just like his girls.

“Harry, you can’t shut down, not now,” Jeff says, kneeling beside him. “They need you.”

He knows that. He needs to be strong for the both of them, so he wipes away his tears, clenches his jaw, and pushes everything down, even if it feels like he’s choking. He has to be strong for the both of them.

The drive to the airport is a blur. He swallows back his tears until his head feels like it’s going to burst and holds his breath until he can see black spots in his vision, but most of all, he’s numb. A small part of him is still trying to convince himself that this is all just a big misunderstanding, but the larger part, the part that’s screaming the loudest, tells him he’s being irrational and selfish.

It takes 7 hours to get home; he has to travel across an entire ocean to get to his family.

How unfair is that?

He wants to blame the world, God, fate. He wants to curse whatever force existed, but behind all of the hate and accusations and judgement, he is nothing more than a guilty, broken shell of a man.

He’s angry with himself, mostly, with the choices he’s made, with how selfish and greedy he was, and how inconsiderate his actions have been for the past few months. He can’t believe that he could be so self-centered, taking Y/N for granted. She’s his wife; they’re supposed to be partners, equals, and he treated her like she was disposable while he traveled the world, living out a dying dream.

He wishes he was there, to not only prevent it, but also to tell her just one last time how important she was to him and tell her of the pain that would spread in his chest at the possibility of losing her or their child; he wants so badly to show his love for her. In four days, they would have been celebrating six years together, and in that time, he has never doubted his love for her. He knew, from the moment they met, that she was meant to be with him until the very end. They were soulmates.

Now that he might lose her and his baby, he feels like his soul is being ripped out of his chest, leaving nothing but a gaping, painful void.

Jeff sends him a link to Twitter and a message: Harry, take all the time you need.

The post says: Due to a personal emergency, Harry will not be able to make the show at MSG this evening, and all tour dates from this moment forth will be canceled until further notice. Know that he wishes he could be with you all, and please, respect his privacy in these trying times.

He calls his mother shortly after, but she doesn’t answer. When he tries Gem, she picks up after a few rings, shaky and winded. He sighs, trying to quell the tremors in his hands. His lips quiver.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Gemma explains what happened to the best of her ability, that Y/N just left to go back to the cottage after eating dinner And that Anne received a call from the hospital, after he didn’t answer his phone (that part stung to hear).

“Please—” He begins, but his voice teeters and breaks at the end. He can’t help the tears that slip down his cheeks. Exhausted and weak, he finally cries. He cries for his wife, his child, and himself. They’re not heart-wrenching sobs, where he’s keeled over, grief and anxiety spilling out of every pore, but they leave him breathless, chest aching.

“Please, tell me everythin’s gonna be fine.”

Her silence is answer enough. She can’t promise him anything. It’s too early to tell, and she’s not going to lie to him, either, not when his wife and child’s life is in the balance.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Gemma admits, “but I will call you as soon—”

He hangs up before she can finish.

—

Rain thunders onto the broken concrete, a flash of lightning brightening the dull sky. Despite the rain, the earth nearly brimming with life, the hospital is dead. There’s not a soul going in or out. The lights flicker eerily in the corner of his eye. It’s four in the morning, so it’s not much of a surprise, but the sight of it being so lifeless just feels wrong.

His mind is moving quicker than the world can keep up with, it seems, and he feels like it goes against the laws of nature. It’s a strange feeling when you feel like you’re falling apart, but the world continues on; most people on the street wouldn’t bat an eye or even pay any notice to him as he’s deteriorating before their very eyes.

As irrational as it is, it feels wrong. It feels wrong that everyone else is able to go on while his life is crumbling.

He called Gemma when he landed, and there were still no updates on their condition. He broke dozens of traffic laws to get there, and now, he stands outside the entrance, still wearing his wool jumper from the day before, smelling like an airport, with rain soaking his hair. Droplets slip down his cheek and jaw, livening the dried tears from earlier, and they seep into his mouth; he can taste the salt.

He’s just staring at the flickering sign.

He can’t move.

Well, that’s not really it; he can move, he can feel, and he can see, but he doesn’t want to move.

How fucked up is that?

He doesn’t want to go inside. Despite all of his fears, and his longing for answers, and his need to see his family, he can’t move.

Because that would make everything real.

If he goes inside, if he pushes past those doors and sees the doctors, he can’t deny it anymore. When he goes inside, he has to face the very real possibility that he could lose his wife and daughter. He isn’t sure if he’s strong enough to handle it.

He’s being selfish. He knows that. He should be running inside, yelling at doctors and nurses to tell him what they’re doing about his family. He should be trying to do something, anything to see his wife and daughter.

But why is it so hard to move his feet?

And why does he still feel so numb?

He breathes in the cold air, burning his tender throat.

When he finally opens those doors, past the point of no return, he’s welcomed by a blinding light and the scent of antiseptic. The inside is just as lifeless, with dull white walls that leaves his head throbbing and dingy carpet that scrapes against his boots. He follows the signs, leading to the waiting room.

A new round of tears fills his eyes when he sees his mother’s familiar figure. He hasn’t wanted to just completely collapse into her arms, crying, in years, but now, he just wants to be in the comfort of her presence, to forget the world.

But he can’t, just like Jeff told him, he needs to stay strong, for them. He can’t shut down. He breathes out deeply, raises his head, and calls out for his mother.

Anne turns around, and when he sees Rhiannon pressed tightly to her chest, safe and sound, he feels more of his strength return, like he can breathe a little easier. He feels his knees weaken, but he keeps moving. He doesn’t feel quite so empty and broken and numb, a small ray of hope filling him for the first time in hours. He cups the back of her little head, thumb caressing the soft baby hairs. They’ve gotten thicker since the last time he saw her.

“She’s fine, Harry, just a little shaken up,” Anne says, smiling slightly.

His happiness is short lived when Gemma stands from behind Anne.

“Y/N’s in surgery right now. All we can do is wait,” she says, her eyes ringed with red, mirroring his own.

“Da,” Rhia says, and he smiles, a single tear running down his cheek. He wipes it and sniffles.

Y/N pretended to be upset when that was Rhi’s first word. She said it only hours before he had to leave. They were in their home, and Y/N was helping him lug his suitcases out of the bedroom when he heard it. It sounded like another babble, but it became clearer until—

“Da,” she squealed, bouncing in her little jumper chair. “Dada.” She hit a little plastic toy ring on the tray

“Y/N,” he called out for her and knelt down in front of his baby. She rushed out of the bedroom.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Say it again, peach, show mummy,” he cooed, and Rhi repeated it, again and again, reaching for her father.

“I carry her around for nine months and feed her out of my tit,” Y/N whined, “and this is the thanks I get?”

They laughed, nevertheless. It was a bittersweet moment, as he looks back on it now. He was so happy that Rhiannon was growing and learning, but she was growing up too fast for his liking. He lifted Rhi up out of the chair and pressed a gentle kiss to her chubby cheek, tears stinging behind his eyes.

“She’s just daddy’s little girl. Aren’t ya, peach?”

She left a slobbery kiss, well, her version of a kiss (which was more tongue than lip) on his nose. He scrunched up his face, and her features pinched together in return, mimicking him.

“See, jus’ a little mini-me you are,” he said, tickling under her chin.

And when she called out to him after saying their final farewells in the airport, it made it even more difficult for him to leave.

Maybe it was a sign that he shouldn’t leave.

He should have listened.

He’s knocked back into the present when his baby girl looks up at him, eyes lit up with innocence, completely unaware of the dire situation they’re in. They’re not in their London home, and Y/N’s not there with him. His lips wobble, nose burning. His chest hurts, whether from unshed tears or from the thought of actually losing the love of his life, he doesn’t know.

He cups his baby girl’s cheek.

Rhia has Y/N’s eyes. He loves her eyes. When she first opened them, as he held her for the first time, bundled tightly in his arms, he cried big, fat tears until they were all dried up. He felt nothing but love for this little human because she was a perfect mixture of him and Y/N. He loves Rhiannon’s eyes, but now, they serve as nothing but a deathly reminder of his wife, who could possibly not survive these next few hours.

She gives him a gummy smile, her little tongue slipping out over her lips. There’s some white peeking through her gums, and his heart aches. He wipes some drool from her chin, and she reaches for him, but he backs away.

His stomach sinks, and he wants the ground to swallow him whole. His mother looks at him softly, not a shred of disappointment apparent on her face, as if she knew he wouldn’t be able to hold his own daughter. His throat closes.

How could he be so weak?

Rhia’s smile drips down, but she lays her head back on her Nana’s shoulder. Anne cups the girl’s head, wrapping the thinly woven blanket tighter around her; sadness and pity present in the air.

“‘M gonna check in with the nurse, see how Y/N’s doin’,” he whispers, backing away, and he stumbles down the hallway, following the signs until he sees the nearest nurse, clad in pale blue scrubs. Even though he’s sure the nurse expects him to look nothing less than distraught, he smooths down his clothes and clears his throat, trying to quell the cries building, lips quivering pitifully.

“Do you have any information on Y/N Styles?” His voice is watery and broken.

The nurse looks at him with sad eyes, warm and understanding, like his mother’s. How does everyone else know what he’s feeling besides himself?

“No, I’m sorry, sir,” she says, and he simply nods. He doesn’t have the energy to be upset or press her anymore. The heaviness on his chest building, he doesn’t even try to stop it anymore. He just wants to wallow, curl up and cry until he’s finally able to wake up from this nightmare. He hates the feeling like he’s just given up, accepted that Y/N may not come back from this.

He wants to fight, but all of the fight he has left him as soon as Jeff told him the news.

“Thank you,” he whispers, heading back to the waiting room. He sits down silently on the chairs next to Gemma, the worn wood squealing from the sudden weight. Anne paces in front of them, rocking Rhia back and forth, like she has been for the past few hours; call it a nervous tick or a mother’s instinct, but holding Rhiannon calms her.

Gemma glances at him in the corner of her eye, unsure of how to comfort him in such a situation. He can see her

“I can’t hold her, Gem,” he says weakly, and she looks at him, finding his gaze held on the small little bundle in their mother’s arms. She sighs. “What if—” There’s a bitter taste on his tongue. He covers his mouth with trembling hands, trying to push back the cries swelling in his chest.

“What if Y/N dies?”

It’s one thing to think about it, but saying it aloud breaks his heart in two.

Y/N has been a constant in his life for six years, and in that time, she became his rock, his shoulder to cry on, his stability, who held his heart so close to her. Then, he thinks about his baby girl, who has had her mother for barely seven months, just to have her ripped away so easily because of some drunk who didn’t know when to quit, and he thinks he’s going to be sick again.

It takes only one mistake to set off a series of irreversible events.

Exhausted, he doesn’t fight the sob that comes out, his shoulders shaking as more and more. He heaves for breath, curling into himself. Gemma wraps an arm around him, and he cries into her shoulder. He feels useless, sinking further into the endless pit in his mind. He’s never considered the possibility of Y/N never being there with him, holding his hand through the fire, and now that possibility is very real; he can’t face it.

When he’s run himself dry, he finally looks at her with red-rimmed eyes and swollen cheeks.

“If she dies, I dunno if I could even look at her,” he admits. “To see her eyes...” Gemma just listens. She knows that there’s nothing she could ever say to make the situation any better. She holds her brother’s hands tightly. “I should have been here,” he says, nodding softly.

“Harry, there’s nothing you could have done. It’s that prick’s fault, not yours,” she says angrily. She’s trying to keep calm, for everyone’s sake, but it’s difficult when it feels like her family is being torn apart.

“I would’ve been driving,” Harry insists. “I would be the one in there, not her, and they would’ve been safe.”

“You don’t know that,” Gemma argues softly. She’s never seen him like this before, but that’s to be expected in the situation they’re in. He’s normally such an optimistic person, and to hear him degrade himself is almost too much to handle.

“If she does make it—”

“When she makes it,” Gem snaps.

“She’s gonna hate me. I know it.”

“She has never blamed you for anything, not when fans gave her shit, not when paps would follow her, and especially not when you had to leave. There are some things that are simply out of our control, and she understands. She understands that you can’t be there all the time. She understands that this is your job, and your job has made you who you are today. She won’t blame you for this either, so don’t blame yourself.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighs. It’s true. She does not understand what he’s gone through. She doesn’t know what it feels like, but she knows that the damage is already done. There’s no use in looking back and analyzing everything to see what they could have done differently.

“I should’ve been here.”

“If only things were that simple.”

“Harry?” A shallow, unfamiliar voice speaks from behind him, making everyone raise their heads.

Anxiety spikes in his stomach. He wonders how anyone could have recognized him, since there is absolutely no one else in the hospital, and how insensitive they would have to be to come talk to him while he’s in such a state. Anger bubbles within him, his skin turning hot as he turns to face the woman.

The blood on her uniform makes him pause.

“My name is Leslie. I was one of the first people on the scene.”

“Do you know anything?” She shakes her head sadly.

“But I was with your wife in the ambulance. She wanted me to tell you that she loves you and…” She coughs, hesitation clear on her features. “And not to give up.”

She probably doesn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words because when he stands and tugs her into a hug, she tenses, hesitantly wrapping her arms around him. Again, like when he saw his baby girl, hope warms him, blanketing and strengthening him.

It’s like Y/N is speaking to him through her.

“Thank you,” he whispers, offering her a weak smile. Just as they part, an older woman rounds the corner. Everyone sits up a little straighter, the air becoming a little tenser, when she gets closer to them.

“She’s resting, now, but she should be up in a few hours,” the doctor smiles.

Harry wants to crumple to the ground as a weight lifts from his chest, and he can finally breathe. He’s run ragged, a broken cry slipping out of his blubbering lips. He tugs Gemma into his arms, who returns the embrace wholeheartedly. Such relief and warmth fills him that he can barely hear the doctor as she continues.

“There was some pretty severe internal bleeding, but we got her stabilized. She also had a couple broken ribs, nothing that time and care won’t heal. After we do some more tests, she should be released in about a week. I can show you to her room, if you’d like?”

“Yes,” Harry cries.

When they reach Y/N’s room, Harry pauses outside and turns to his mother. Her eyes, noticing the confliction in his eyes, are soft and understanding. He never thought about seeing her in such a state until now, but least she’s still with him, his little fighter, just like Rhi.

“Mum, can I, uh…” He nibbles on his lip, holding his arms out.

“Course,” Anne says, moving the baby in his open arms.

“Hi, peach,” he says, smiling. She sleeps contentedly, her features relaxed. His heart twinges as she burrows herself into his chest, and he wraps the blanket a little tighter around her.

“We’ll go to the cottage and get some extra clothes for you all,” Gemma says, knowing that Harry needs this time alone. She tugs her mother, who hesitates but soon follows.

He expected her condition to be poor, but that doesn’t stop the burning in his eyes when he sees her, hooked up to what seems like dozens of machines, her face swollen, and stitches along her hairline; she looks so fragile, so broken, but her heart beat is strong, breathing steady. As if sensing her father’s discomfort, Rhi burrows further in his arms, snuffling lightly.

He settles in a chair next to Y/N’s bed, one hand holding hers while the other arm cradles his baby.

“Gave daddy a scare earlier, peach,” he coos. “Daddy’s sorry that he wasn’t there with ya.”

He promises her many things, that she’s safe, that nothing will ever happen to her, and that her mum is safe, too, but most importantly, he promises to be there for her. He cries silently, careful to keep the tears and painful jolts of his chest from waking Rhi. He just can’t help it. After the dust settles and the smoke is cleared, the gravity of the situation weighs on him: he could have lost the two most important people in his life, and he would not have been there.

A nurse stops by to bring a bassinet for Rhiannon and to check on Y/N, who is doing wonderfully, especially after such an invasive surgery.

Y/N wakes after about an hour, just as the sun peaks beyond the horizon. Harry is still up, of course, watching his girls, finding comfort in the heart monitor. He pushes the bassinet back and forth with his foot.

“H?”

He beams when he hears her voice, gravely and worn, but it’s her voice nonetheless, comforting and warm. He wishes that he could hold her and kiss her until his love heals her wounds, but he has to settle for holding her hand and kissing her forehead for the time being.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, tears slipping past her swollen eyes. “It happened so fast.”

“What are you sorry for, lovie? You did absolutely nothin’ wrong,” he says, brushing back her hair.

“You had to leave because I wasn’t being careful enough, and I—”

His heart aches, eyes glazing over. He hates that he made her feel like his job was more important than her.

“No, none of that,” he says, shaking his head. “That doesn’t matter. Listen, this was not your fault, and as far as tour goes, it’s not nearly as important as you two. I would drop everythin’ if you needed me to. There is nothin’ that I wouldn’t do for you. You know that, right? You both are my life, now; I made that promise the day we got married and the day she was born. You both are my number one priority, and I haven’t been treating you like it. For that, I’m so sorry.”

“Harry—”

“It was selfish of me to think that I could live in the past and the present, live the life that I used to while trying to be a father and a husband. It wasn’t fair of me, and I am so, so very sorry, babylove.”

He kisses her, careful of her bruises, and she sinks further into the bed, comforted by his warm words and tender touches. Her eyes, fluttering with exhaustion and filled with tears, refuse to close, as if she’s afraid that he’ll be gone by the time she wakes. He runs his thumb along her cheek, mindful of the swollen areas. For the first time in what feels like years, his mind is calm, basking in the feeling of happiness as he’s finally able to feel and see his family, safe and within his reach. That’s all he’s ever wanted, and as he sees her nodding off, he presses a quick kiss to her knuckles, whispering.

“Rest, lovie, I’ll be here. Don’t worry.”

She falls asleep with a faint smile.

Perhaps, fate isn’t cruel as many think. Just like anything, it can be merciful and loving for those who are worth mercy and love.

—

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #ellie writes #ellie writes angst #not my gif #credit to owner

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