#I couldn’t lose at all for over a year and it was just slowly increasing

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest [4] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: Kylain has shown you just how much he wants you and him to work out, initiating a second chance you weren’t sure you’d give.

Warnings: Angst? Very minimal. Little bit of fluff. Hangovers, cussing, chef!kylian, mentions of insecurities in a relationship, and that’s about it. Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

The afternoon sun steeped through your closed eyelids, immediately you felt your head beginning to pound, your pupils felt like they were throbbing. Even with your face now stuffed into the pillow, it was still too bright, and you were still too damn comfy.

You tugged the comforter over your head, letting it engulf you entirely. What the hell did you drink last night? There was maybe a 5% chance of you leaving your extra snuggly bed today, and that percentage is reserved for peeing and taking a giant Advil. Memories of flashing club lights and loud house music rushed through your tired mind, and you muffled a loud groan into your pillow, wondering why you decided that buckets of alcohol would somehow make you feel better about telling Kylian about your night with Haaland during your heart to heart after training… Damn you, tequila. 

Alas, the time came where you couldn’t keep holding your bladder and you ripped the sheets off of you like a bandaid, looking up at the ceiling… except it was not the ceiling you expected to see. The flood of confusion that took over your brain was palpable as you stared up at the familiar high walls and designer light fixture dangling above your body. Your heart rate increased as it dawned on you that you were not in fact in your new bed in your new apartment, but your old bed (albeit, much more comfortable bed) in the house you used to share with the very man you were trying to forget. 

“Goddamnit.” You blurted into the air, noticing that you're wearing his old Mickey Mouse shirt you left behind. Looking next to you reluctantly, you thanked god that Kylians side of the bed was far too undisturbed for him to have possibly slept there with you – but maybe you wouldn't rule anything out just yet. 

You sat up slowly, noticing your old nightstand provided a tall glass of water, two headache relief pills, and your phone on the charger. 1:30 pm. Holy shit. The last time you slept in that late was when Kylian gave you the flu last year. Poor thing felt so bad… as he should. It was a miserable four days of nothing but puking and Netflix. It’s not a very fond memory and it was definitely not the best idea to think about at this moment because you had to sprint out of bed like it electrocuted you, beelining to the toilet, barely making it before you began to throw up nothing but clear liquid that stung your throat as it shot out. 

Kylian heard your footsteps from the floor below you, his heart rate increasing. Finally, you were up. He would have been concerned if he hadn’t been listening to your soft snores whenever he passed by the door, not noticing how he grinned stupidly every time. He stood from the couch and made his way to the kitchen to cook the only thing he knew you ate while nursing a hangover; two eggs and cheddar cheese on a multigrain bagel with a side of turkey bacon. 

He felt like he had his in. He felt like today was finally the day that he could start trying again with you… really trying. Getting through to you has taken time – which is fair enough and he understands your reasons behind waiting – but all he wants is to show you that he’s changed. That he won't revert back to the aloof asshole of a man that wouldn't listen to you. He wouldn’t take you for granted for a second. Losing you was so painful, he couldn't possibly do that to himself again. He couldn't do that to you again.

As you started descending down the stairs, Kylian set you a placemat at your favorite spot by the window, a small bouquet of flowers sat in the center, a glass of orange juice, water, and a mug full of coffee all snuggly placed next to your breakfast… Well, lunch. 

The second he saw your sweet frame enter the room with his old shirt and sweatpants, hair disheveled, all pouty and squinty, his stomach did flips. You looked so beautiful to him, all he wanted to do was hug you tightly and pepper your face with kisses. One day…

“Hey, sleepy.” He grinned at you, standing next to the table nervously, now feeling like he’s overdone it with the display, twiddling with his hands.

“Is that for me?” You tiredly asked, rubbing your eyes and trudging over to your usual breakfast spot, sitting comfortably in the seat.

He sat across from you, moving the flowers slightly to the left so his view of you wouldn't be obstructed. “Yes, I… um...” He looks at the neat placement of the meal, slightly embarrassed, “If you're not hungry you can save it for later, or… I don’t know.” He waves off, trying his hardest to be cool and nonchalant.

“I’m starving.” You calmed his anxiety, immediately grabbing the hot coffee cup, sipping it and instantly feeling some life make its way back into your veins, humming out in satisfaction. 

He mentally fistbumped himself after hearing your thankfulness for his perfect cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep?” His hands were neatly folded in front of him, attentive and genuine. 

“I think I went brain dead for a while. I forgot how comfortable our mattress is.” You say without noticing you called it our mattress, but Kylians heart pitter-patters inside of his chest at the slip of the tongue. He watches you as you take the first bite out of the bagel sandwich. “My god…” You grumble with a mouth full of the food, chewing every bit with your eyes closed. “This has to be from Tatianos.”

Titianos was the bagel shop just a block down from this home, a shop you two would frequently walk to together when the busy streets looked calmer than usual. “Of course.”

“And the flowers?” You poke, pointing to the daffodils placed between the two of you. 

His face cringed slightly. “Too much?”

You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head and shrugging. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Oh.” He blushed, biting his cheek in efforts to not look like a doofus. “Sweet, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky.” You tease, playfully tossing a piece of your bacon at him, which he caught and ate happily. It was scary how comfortable you felt around him on this strange morning, especially since you had only the vaguest memories that flash in and out of your head. “So, last night… what happened exactly?”

“Between us? Nothing, if that’s what you’re asking.” He confirms. “You called me super drunk at like 3:30 and said you were alone, so I went looking for you. You didn’t know your address and your phone was dead, so I brought you back here.”

You nod along, remembering some hazy moments as he reminded you. “Did you make me waffles last night?” You ask once the recollection of something crispy and delicious popped into your head. 

“You remember waffles before you remember hitting on me?” He baits, quirking an eyebrow. 

Oh, god. You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed. “Did I really?” You whisper, peeking an eye through the space in your fingers. Kylian laughed, nodding in confirmation. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Kylian.”

“Don’t be sorry. You can flirt with me whenever you want.” He beamed, pushing the idea of holding your hand so he could see your face to the back of his mind. 

“No, I just mean…” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I really appreciate how respectful you’ve been with not pushing my boundaries since the breakup, and me flirting with you probably didn’t help you.”

He shakes his head. “Seriously, don’t be sorry. I can handle it.” He assures, a sly grin forming in his features. “I know I’m irresistible. It’s been a struggle my whole life.”

You roll your eyes, chuckling at the goofy side of Kylian, missing his overly confident commentary. “Well, then… I’m sorry about telling you about me and Haaland last time I saw you… I would have kept it to myself if I knew that it would affect you on the pitch–”

“–You don’t need to apologize to me for anything, (Y/N).” He established, looking you in the eye. You stared back, lost in the deep brown of his eyes, reeling you in with how warm you he made you feel with just some simple eye contact. Kylian cleared his throat, he himself feeling exceptionally vulnerable. “So, I was thinking…” He stopped, gulping and toying with a napkin sheepishly. “Maybe, only if you're ready… would you like to go on a second first date with me?” The words came out slowly as Kylian subtly shrinks into his seat, looking up, then looking away.

You pause and you swear you are able to hear the thump of his heartbeat from across the table. If you were ready to go back to him or not really was a coin toss. It’s only been two months, but in those two months, you have seen the change that Kylians made in effort to get you back. You never stopped loving him, never. And he certainty has shown you that he never stopped either. 

“When?” You speak up, catching his wide eyes.

“Whenever you’re free.” He breathes out. You give him a look as if to scold him for not taking charge – a hint he understands instantly. “Tonight.”

You gulp down the last of your coffee, wiping your mouth with a napkin. Unashamedly, you enjoyed the power of making him sweat, tapping your finger pensivly on the wooden table. It provides some weird satisfaction after you hurt for so long. It sounds bad but it’s not something you can help. You hint at a grin, tilting your head to the side. “Okay.”

Kylians lungs deflated in relief, not being able to hold back a goofy and wide smile, wishing he could celebrate this moment as if he just scored a last minute goal in the world cup. “That’s great!”

“Nothing too over the top, though, alright?” You request, feeling your cheeks wanting to dimple upon seeing the happiness radiating from the man in front of you, but needing to keep your composure more.

“I promise.” 

“Good.” You leave it there, taking a couple more bites of the sandwich until you were too full to continue. 

Kylians smile was like it was tattooed, eyes glimmering. You gave him a weird stare, wiping your mouth. “What? Do I have something on my face, or…?”

He shakes his head, laughing off the question while looking down. “No, no. Sorry.”

You knew he was just happy about finally getting you on a date. Honestly, so we’re you. Obviously it was a bitter sweet thing. The feeling of missing Kylian was like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life. Not even when you’ve broken up with your past partners has it felt this empty, this lonely. You hoped it wasn’t just the hangover sabotaging you into feeling a little extra needy… but you needed him. You really did.

Even while you gathered your things together, you were feeling apprehensive over going back to your new place, wanting nothing more than to sink into your spot on the couch in Kylian’s living room — the spot that you fall into so perfectly after years of claiming it as yours.

Though Kylian offered to take you home, you insisted on just Ubering (which he insisted he pay for). It’s difficult to find a way to say goodbye to him as you found yourself in a position you've been in before, hating the pit in your stomach as you stood in the familiar spot by the front door, ready to leave. Facing Kylian as he watched you go put a bad taste in your mouth, reminded you of your birthday. Reminded you of the most painful night of your life.

He sensed that you two were on the same page, shuffling uncomfortably in his place. “So…” He filled the silence.

“Um, I’ll just meet you here?”

“Yeah, that works.” He nods. “6:30?”

“Okay. 6:30. I’ll see you later, I guess.” You let out a dry and awkward laugh as you opened the door. Kylian watched your every move with the worst case of deja vu turning his stomach over and over, having to look away. Your feet stopped you from walking to the Uber waiting for you, turning around. “Kylian.” He instantly met your eyes. “Um... Thank you.”

Kylian froze, engrossed in the genuine way that your words came out. They felt heavy, meaningful. He wanted to tell you he’d do anything for you, that you didn’t need to ever thank him because he just loves you; but the door shuts behind you before even a sound could escape his lips.

It was like the air went stale the second you walked out the door, he physically felt how much he missed you already. But he knew he’d see you in just a few hours, and he had some prepping to do.

Your new apartment wasn’t exactly… nice. Or safe. Or spacious. Or free of roaches. The handle of your door always got stuck and you were left foolishly jiggling it until it gave way. Your asshole of a landlord has yet to respond to your multiple texts about it, much less anything else you’ve filed complaints about in the short time you’ve occupied this space.

The water pressure was shit, but the boiling stream that relaxed your muscles felt like heaven, anyway. It washed away the thick layer of the Sunday-scaries that weighed you down on this strange day. Shower thoughts overtook your brain, and you got to thinking about Kylian.

The months of doubt he put you through were unbearable. You constantly felt like a burden in his life when all you wanted was to be there for him. The sleepless nights you spent pondering over where it all went wrong and nothing ever coming to mind… The anxiety of every argument or uncomfortable prolonged silences that left you confused and insecure… These moments weren't few and far between, but a steady new normal you'd convinced yourself would eventually get better. Those moments showed you what he was capable of turning into.

On the other hand, you knew the other side of Kylian. That side is the one you knew in your heart was the real him. He loved the fact he knew all your quirks, your routine, your favorite brand of cereal, your deepest worries. It was just easy with him, just like it should be. The compatibility was undeniable from the get-go. He was always so affectionate before, having to hold your hand in public or smack your ass in the kitchen or else he'd implode. He always reminded you how much you meant to him. That you were the love of his life. Kylian would say this with eyes that glimmered, confirming that his intentions were true. It's like whenever he spoke to you tenderly it went directly into your heart until it began beating just for him. You always thought dependency in that way was unhealthy... but you still found yourself to place Kylian in the category of necessity.

Living without him was a life you weren't sure was possible for you.

It was almost four o'clock when you got out of the shower and you had picked out a nice little casual outfit to wear. He better have kept his word about the 'nothing too over the top' promise because if he surprised you with tickets to the opera, you'd surly be denied entry in jeans and a tank-top, even with your nice leather jacket you purchased in Italy.

You were nervous. Of course you were nervous. This night could go horribly wrong. Maybe he'll show that he's still the Kylian you left two months ago. Maybe you'll spot signs to not go through with this. Maybe he'll forget about these plans altogether and leave you stranded once more on a night you expect him to be around for.

But, even worse... It could go wonderfully right. He could be a gentlemen and woo you. He could say the all right things and make your heart swell at his addictive laugh. That's scarier than any worst case scenario you could possibly come up with.

The time came to drive to Kylains apartment, and as you got closer, the familiarities of the roads brought you back to happier times. The way you avoided every pothole and recognized peculiarities you'd become accustomed to seeing every time you would go home felt like a heavy sentiment you didn't have time to explore before arriving at the large home. Before you knew it, you were kocking on the door, anxiously wiping your sweaty hands down the material of your jeans.

Through the window, you saw Kylian jogging to answer, abrupty opening the door with the biggest and most authentic smile you'd seen him exhibit in a while... including the months leading up to your separation.

"Bonjour." He quips, cloth towel tossed over his shoulder and the smell of something delicious had your mouth watering.

"Hi." You smiled back, stepping into the home as he stepped aside, allowing you to come in. "Are you cooking something?"

"Yeah. I thought we could have dinner here. I hope that's okay." He explained, wiping his hands.

His nerves were undeniable cute. "That's perfect." You begin walking toward the kitchen, setting your purse down and peeking at the simmering food on the stove. "What's on the menu for tonight?"

"Well, to start, french onion soup. Then we have coq au vin with caprese salad, and for desert, crème brûlée. Hope you're hungry."

"That sounds... amazing." The kitchen was messy, but you could tell he did some quick tidying up before you got here. Kylian never closed the cabinets, and you couldn't stop yourself from chuckling when you noticed every door was wide open. "So, you took up cooking, huh?" You say as you close the doors that hung from the hinges quickly before leaning over to sneak a peak at your dinner.

He shuffled around to stand next to you, stiring as an excuse to be close. "No, not really." He laughed. "I've been following a recipe and I've been on facetime with my mom the entire time."

You wanted to coo at him, your feelings of fondness bubbling like the sauce on the stove. "How is Fayza? Aw, I miss her." She was such an angel to you, always. You'd become so close to her, especially since you'd been living so far from your family for so long now. She truly made you feel like you were part of the family. You wished you'd called her or Wilfreid or Ethan after the break up, but it was just so painful.

"She's good. Dealing with some rabbits in her garden but... she misses you. Like, really misses you." He says the last part lowly. He didn't want to make you feel bad, it's just that his mother hadn't taken the break up very well. She was so excited for the wedding, to watch her son get married to the love of his life, to officially have you be a part of the family. It'd been years you'd spent Christmas with them perfecting a triple chocolate cookie recipe. Years of sitting with you in the stands of Kylians matches. Years of watching you be so good with her grandchildren, getting ahead of herself and thinking about obtaining a few more.

You couldn't say anything back, hearing the timer beep. Kylian put on your strawberry-patterned oven mitts and took out two ramekins from the oven.

"Wine?" He offered, picking up a bottle of red and topping off his own glass.

You shook away your distress about Fayza and the family, sucking in a sharp breath. Wine sounds amazing. "Please."

He poured you a glass, handing it to you and placing himself comfortably in front of you, tipping his own toward you. "Santé."

You clicked your glass together with his, taking a bigger sip than you probably would have in a normal situation. Kylian kept eye contact with you, but you looked away with a bashful chuckle. His eyes were too versed in the language of how to make you melt. Maybe wine wasn't a great idea.

Kylian lifted the lid on the large pot, stirring for a second before turning off the flame. "This looks about done... I hope."

You press your side to his, reaching over to grab a spoon and finding a carrot. You felt Kylain's stare, the warmth he provided with the minimal contact made you flustered. You bit into the perfectly seasoned vegetable, tender and buttery. "Mhm..." You muttered. "Damn, Ky. You should've been cooking for me years ago."

"Well, I'd be happy to be the chef in this relationship from now on." He said with a bold blush.

Relationship.

He heard it the second the word slipped from his mouth. You froze, blinking at Kylian who also seemed to stop all movement. "I'm sorry. I wasn't... I–I didn't mean to–"

"It's fine." You waved off, setting the spoon down and giving him a reassuring smile.

He nods apologetically, taking the spoon from your hand, purposefully brushing his fingers with yours and dipping it in the saucy dish. He hums at the taste. "Is there anything I can't do?"

You laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Shut up." He laughed along, loving the flow of the light banter... how it was before.

You sat at the table when he said he needs to plate the food, watching him scramble around the kitchen ungraciously, reopening every cabinet door and leaving it that way. He made quick time, balancing two soups and a basket of buttered baguette slices.

"You ready?" He nodded toward the patio door, opening it expertly with his elbow.

"Um... are we not eating at the table?" You question, confused but getting up anyway, grabbing both your glass and his, seeing as his hands are full.

He holds the door open for you, grin tattooed on his face as he see's your eyes light up at the setting he's created on the patio. The outdoor dining gazebo was decorated with strung up lights, candles lined up in the center of the table. There was a pattered tablecloth covering the hardwood with two chairs facing each other, the warm light created a sense of romance and intimacy. The sweet gesture showed how much effort he put into this simple date.

"You did all this for me?"

"Of course." He chimed, placing the small bowls of soup and bread down. You watched tenderly as he pulled out the chair facing the beautiful view that overlooked the gorgeous city, the sun had just started it’s descent into the horizon, painting the sky with hints of orange and pink. Your smile was flirtatious as you sat down and he tucked your chair in, taking the opportunity to be close to you.

This was always your favorite place to watch the sunset. You missed that view, your eye never leaving the skyline as you sat with a bashful blush. Your apartment now faced the brick wall of the building next to you. The closest thing to a view you get now is your neighbors golden retriever barking at the cyclists that ride by.

He sits across from you, placing a napkin on his lap. "Bon appétit."

He watches intently as you spoon your first bite, getting a bit of everything. "It's good?" He asks impatiently, trying it himself.

"Mother of god, Kylian. What the hell. It's delicious." You say approvingly. He gets a big head easily, so usually you kept your compliments subdued to avoid him becoming competitive with you in every aspect of your lives, but that soup brought you somewhere else.

The sun was setting slowly, as if the sky was begging you to appreciate this beautiful moment, savor it as long as possible. Halfway through the main course, the sun broke through the clouds that had occupied the heavens all day long. You audibly gasped at the phenomenon, feeling the golden sun warm your face, squinting slightly as you tried your best not to look directly at it.

“Oh, wow… Kylian. Look at the sky.”

He didn’t want to. The way the light illuminated your features, it was like he was seeing you in the highest definition. You might as well have had a filter on, because to him, you look supernaturally perfect. The slight breeze tussling your hair, the way your irises saturated in color with the suns natural light, the shadow just above your cupids bow drawing his attention to your undeniable lips… his heart grew in size, swelling and beating just for you. He was happy you were here. Happy he didn’t just give up on you. He wanted this feeling forever.

He stood up, reaching his hand out to you from across the table. You took it willingly, letting him lead you to the large patch of grass just a few yards from where you ate.

With your eyes hypnotized by the swirling clouds of colors, you sat on the slightly overgrown greenery, feeling the cold blades tickle between your fingers. Kylian sat with you, pinky finger brushing yours, enjoying the natural silence that was drowned out by ambiance. Birds chirping, tree branches rustling, your soft breathing, and his heart pattering.

He did his best to keep his eyes forward, wanting to enjoy the same sky as you were, but your beauty trumped even the most beautiful of sights. You were so mesmerized you didn’t even notice the way he gazed at you, feeling himself fall deeper in love, knowing that might cause him more troubles but found nothing inside of him that cared.

“It’s incredible.” You murmured. It really was the most fantastic sunset you’ve seen. One of those that sucks you in, the subtle changes overtime darkening the sky until you can spot the stars. You miss it when it’s ending, knowing you’ll only get a couple more minutes of this view.

As he looked up and around, Kylian suddenly felt the weight of your head resting on his shoulder, stiffening for a second before relaxing his tense muscles to allow himself to enjoy the contact. Minimal, intimate, familiar… the simplest things about you were always his favorite. His head lulled until his cheek hit the top of your head, remembering the sweet coconutty scent of your shampoo. Everything about that moment was nostalgic… perfect. Absolutely perfect.

When the moons shift began, you thought about lifting your head, but the comfort of having him back forced you to stay. You scooted closer, initiating him to do the same. Cautiously, he moved an arm behind your back, allowing you to rest against him almost completely. You melted into the gesture, relishing in every ounce of this moment in time.

“Kylian…” You whispered.

“Yes, bébé.” The nickname rolled off his tongue as if the word was created for only you.

You hesitated, focusing your eyes on the waning moon. “I don’t wanna regret this.”

Kylian felt your worry in his own chest, bringing his arm around yours, pulling you into him more. You let him hold you, you let the heat of him overtake your senses, your brain, your emotions. The feeling of his lips pressing to your temple was fleeting, but the aftershock sent waves from the spot, forcing your eyes to close in contentment.

He dipped his head slightly lower to speak to you, to whisper to you. There was no one around, no one to listen into the words he was going to say, but they were meant for only the woman he adores. Even the wind was a threat, not wanting them to get lost and blown away. “I could spend my whole life searching for someone else, but my heart will only ever be yours. You are irreplaceable, mon amour.” He hugged you tighter. “I’ll never make you wonder again. I promise.”

Your body turned, your head dipped into his chest, and suddenly, you were engulfed in him — both arms securing your body inside of his. You allowed yourself to fill your lungs with his aroma, something ineffable coursing through your body. It was like a switch flipped and your heart just knew that this was right. This was it.

Kylian felt it to. Fireworks burst inside his chest and the feeling was so overwhelming he worried he’d become embarrassingly emotional. Holding you again felt like home, like the stars aligned, like everything was suddenly okay again.

The pair of you sat there for a while, Kylian thumb brushed against your arm soothingly, once in a while clutching you. It was like he was scared you’d slip right out of his arms, like he’d wake up any second now and realize you were never there at all… but you were. Your nuzzled face in his neck fit like the last bit of a puzzle. The serenity that stood still against the breeze was just pure confirmation that you belonged together. That this relationship could be mended, healed, saved.

“Thank you for not giving up on us.” He placed the words carefully on the top of your head, this side of the world now dark, colder, but he’d never felt warmer in his life. The affection radiated and kept him cozy against you.

You look up at him, and even though you’d had a peek at the stars scattered behind the evening clouds, they were all held in his eyes. He was yours. He was yours.

You wanted to say so many things, but found yourself leaning forward instead, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. The pull was just as natural as gravity, just as logical as a magnet. Kylian’s heart thumped so viciously against his rib cage. So much so that you felt it against your own — pressed deliciously against him, knocking the air out from your lungs.

Your lips had yet to touch, finding that you needed time to soak in every movement and breath that radiated from your bodies. You closed your eyes as his nose touched yours, his slow actions coming to conclusion as your lips finally met again, molding into the most intimate kiss you’d ever shared. You were sure of it.

You exhaled together, feeling lighter and more alive. You’d shared millions of smooches, pecks, make outs… you’d seen each other completely naked, explored your bodies like knowing every inch was a life or death matter… but none of it has ever felt this exposed. This was vulnerability at its finest. You’d never felt such a rush of emotion like this. It was electric but calming. An indescribable wave of raw emotions and needs.

You deepened the kiss slightly, shifting so he could lay you down. Kylian hovered over you, lips never leaving yours, wanting to make up for lost time. You tasted better than he remembered. You felt softer than you ever had. He couldn’t hold you closer if he tried.

His hand gently soothed your cheek in a romantic gesture, moving his lips against yours as if they’d planned and practiced for this moment. You put your hand in his cheek, pulling away but not being able to regain control of your closed eyes, the happiness threatening to spill out of you like a sink overflowing.

He touched his forehead to yours, nothing to stop him from placing a meaningful last peck on your puffy lips. His thumb continued to smooth your hairline and a genuine smile was tenderly illuminating his face, the tiniest shadow forming from the candles still burning near your unfinished dinner.

He couldn’t stop the fondness that was about to come out of his mouth, words forming against his will. “Je t'aime tellement. Tellement.” I love you so much. So, so much.

His eyes already told you everything, you didn’t need the verbal confirmation to understand how true those words were, how much he really meant them.

“You don’t need to say it back right now.” He murmured, still flickering down to your lips every other second, missing the feeling of them already. “And that’s okay. I’ll love you forever. I have time to prove it.” He pecked you once more.

Your hand wrapped around to the back of his head and you scratched the nape of it, instantly feeling the goosebumps rise out onto his skin. It made you giggle, sending Kylian to do the same by proxy. “I know.”

You pulled him down and give him one last meaningful kiss. He didn’t want it to end, but you stood up from under him, on your feet as you looked down at the man who just wanted to look at you.

He mentally took a photograph of you and how you looked at this very moment. The moon shining behind you against the faint stars. He wished he could frame this moment in time and keep it in his wallet, show you off to anyone he’d come across.

You reached a hand down. “I believe I was promised crème brûlée?”

He took your hand, but just held it, tracing his thumb over your knuckles. Slowly he sat up so he could kiss each one of them and you found yourself giddy, excited for the sequel of a novel you thought had a finite ending.

How reliving to know there was more to come. How relieving to know there was a future with this man — your wonderful Kylian Mbappé.

A/N: Okay okay okay OKAY you guys... I'm happy with this "ending" :). That being said, I will write an epilogue bc I know I love knowing what happens way after, besides I already have so many cute little ideas for it.

Thank you guys so much for reading this fic, it's the first multi-part fanfiction I've ever written (yes, even in my One Direction phase), so it means so much to me that it had such an overwhelmingly positive response. If I could kiss every single one of you on the lips, I so would. MUAH. MUAH. MUUUAAAHHH!

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#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappé imagine #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian mbappé x reader #mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian mbappe blurb #neymar #neymar jr imagine #neymar angst #neymar imagines #neybappe #futbol imagines #futbol #soccer imagine #psg i #psg fic #psg fanfic #paris st. germain #paris sg #paris saint germain #psg football

[wolfchanslover69]

The Deal

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In which the reader has had too much to drink at a party, and a certain someone helps her sober up

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A/N: Hey guys, this is like my first time posting anything like this here so if I did something wrong do tell me because I won't realise it :D.

Warning: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of throwing up, mentions of being drunk.

Word count: 1794

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The evening had started like every other evening before a party. I came home from a lecture, collapsed on my bed, and noticed I was going to be late. It wasn’t supposed to be any different from a normal Friday, yet here I was stumbling while trying to understand what was going on.

The music was being played loudly; I could feel the bass vibrating my bones, almost making me lose my footing. People were loudly walking and dancing next to me as I leaned against the wall, taking a sip and emptying my cup of alcohol. It shouldn’t have been like this, yet here I was, trying to find my friend who had just been next to me, yet I couldn’t spot them in the sweaty and happy crowd of partying university students.

The world was spinning in my eyes as I tried to focus on the people passing me, attempting to find at least one familiar face. Starting to get desperate, I turned my head around, almost making me crash to the floor due to the increased spinning in my head. While leaning against the wall, I heard someone ask me something. “Sorry?”

“I asked if you're okay there, mate,” the male voice repeated. Maybe he could help me; at least I could try to get him to help. 

“I can’t find my friend,” I slowly and carefully told him, trying to speak as clearly as I could. I attempted to look at his face, but the world spinning in my eyes blocked me, and I had to put my hand over my eyes.

“Uh, you don’t seem so good… I’ll help you find your friend. Can you describe your friend to me?” He asked again. I couldn’t answer him for a while, trying to form a coherent response. I raised my hand to signal him to wait a moment while I tried to stand without leaning on the wall. That didn’t work well, and I could feel the man grab my arm as I was about to fall to the floor.

“Take your time, I’ll help you stand…” I took hold of his arm, which wasn’t holding me before I answered his questions. 

“She’s a bit taller than me, brown hair, white t-shirt, umm, I think a black mini skirt with knee-high boots…” He nodded to himself as his eyes started to wander around the room. It was becoming hard to see as the room was dark, and the only light came from the DJ table's lasers. The man stopped some people and told them to search for my friend based on the descriptions I had given him. Not long after, I was being led to a toilet where she seemed to be sitting. It was hard for me to stay upright, but with the help of the stranger, I managed to find my way to the toilet where my friend was.

“What are you doing?” I asked her, and as I asked, I heard what she was doing. Oh, I wasn’t the only one this drunk. As I heard her throwing up, I myself started to feel worse. 

“Oh…” I said out loud while trying to grab hold of the wall. 

“She’s throwing up, Y/N. Don’t worry, I’m going to help her, so try to sober up as much as you can, please,” my other friend told me. All I could do was nod before I felt a crushing feeling of nausea hit me hard. Oh god… I turned to the trash can near me while trying to stay upright. I didn’t see the stranger who had helped me here, but as I started to throw up, I could feel him grab my hair."

“Oh my gosh, Chris, can you look after her?” I heard someone close to me ask, but I couldn’t concentrate on it well. 

“I was planning on it the moment I saw her barely standing,” I assumed Chris answered. Weirdly, his name matched with the guy I had a crush on during the last two years of university.

“Wait, Chris…?” I asked, raising my head.

I could feel him laughing as he ran his hand up and down my back. “Yes, darling, did you just realize it now?” Oh, he had seen me in this condition. I turned to look at him, my eyes wide open and my mouth gaping like a fish.  I could feel the embarrassment washing over me like a wave as I finally fully realised who had been with me for the past twenty minutes.

“I’m sorry,” I told him without a second thought. Before I could say anything else, I started throwing up for a second time.

“It’s okay, let it all out. I’m going to help you, so don’t worry,” I could feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as he kept reassuring me while I was throwing up. I could feel how he tightened his grip on my hair to prevent it from touching my face and how his hand touched my back. At this point, I could hear him talking, but I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or at others.

When I finally stopped, he helped me stand up so I could wash my hands and face. At this point, my head had started to clear a bit, but I wasn’t sober enough to control my speech or walk in a straight line. While washing my hands, I could see how he was standing behind me, making sure I was okay. Even in my drunken haze, I felt butterflies flying around in my stomach; oh, how I wished I wasn’t drunk at the moment.

“How about I get you home so you can sleep this off, hmm?” he asked me, to which I nodded. For no apparent reason, I closed my eyes as we started to walk out of the toilet toward the small hallway of the apartment. 

“What does your coat look like?” Chris asked me as we arrived at the big and messy pile of coats and bags.

“It’s long, black and, um, it’s in a white tote bag with pictures of pandas on it,” I tried to remember what it looked like while Chris let out a sigh. “Like every other winter coat in here,” he mumbled quietly. I giggled at him, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“Yes! That’s it!” I exclaimed happilyChris stood next to me in silence for a few minutes while trying to find my bag which I had described to him. After a while I heard him exclaim “Ah, I found it!” as he carefully let go of me so I wouldn’t fall as he grabbed the bag from the ground.

After a while, I felt a coat and hat being put on me before Chris told me to follow him. I did as he instructed, and soon we were walking outside, with me holding onto his arm in the crisp November air, heading towards his home.

“I’m not sure where you live or if you even have your keys, so I’m taking you to my house, is that okay? I don’t want you to be anxious,” he told me, his words coming out in a rush.

“It’s okay, Chris. I live a bit far away from here anyway,” I replied.

“You're starting to sound more sober, which is good. You still have to drink a lot of water and eat before going to sleep, or you’ll have a terrible hangover tomorrow, you know…” he advised. I nodded my head, resting it once again on his shoulder. My vision was clearing up, and the spinning in my head had transformed into a low but annoying hum. I watched as the streetlights illuminated the dark streets, guiding us on our way.

“You know, we haven’t really talked other than 'hi' here and there,” Chris began.

“Mm, I know. I'm too shy to come and just talk to you,” I admitted. He laughed at that.

“Am I that scary?” he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

“A bit, but that’s just a me kind of problem. You are so open and friendly, so I shouldn't really be scared of you, but oh well…” I told him honestly. I could hear him hum again before he asked another question. 

“What about me makes you scared?” he inquired. If I had been sober, I wouldn’t have revealed everything to him, but in my drunken state, I spilled my feelings without a filter. “The fact that I have a huge crush on you.” We continued walking in silence after that.

The silence persisted throughout the rest of our journey to his house. It even continued when he opened his front door for me, and we put away our coats. It felt painful. Even in my intoxicated state, I could sense anxiety creeping in because of his silence. I shouldn’t have confessed my feelings; he probably didn’t feel the same way and was now going to avoid me forever.

Chris went to his kitchen to fetch a large glass, which he filled with water and handed to me. I thanked him as he retrieved a cold pizza slice from his fridge. “Come here, you have to eat before you go to sleep.” I drank my glass of cold water before shyly walking over to him and taking a slice of his leftover pizza.

“You know, I've had a crush on you since the first time I saw you in our first math class together,” he confessed. I choked on the bite I had just taken from the pizza upon hearing that. “I didn’t say anything because I didn't know what to say. I've always been so sure you wouldn’t even notice me, so this came as a surprise…” he finished his sentence.

“I really do like you; it isn’t just some drunken words,” I assured him while he kept looking down at his piece of pizza and nodding. I remained silent, gazing at him. I looked at his dark, curly hair as I observed him eating his pizza. I could see him clearly now. I hadn’t known he would be at the party tonight; I would have dressed in something cuter than black trousers and a fitted white t-shirt. I stared at his long lashes as they moved with the motions of his eyes.

“How about we make a deal? If you tell me tomorrow morning that you like me while looking straight into my eyes, I’ll take you on a date in the afternoon?” he proposed.

“Café down the street at 3 PM?” I suggested.

“Café down the street at 3 PM,” he confirmed, smiling at me. I nodded and smirked back at him, finishing my piece of pizza.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan #bang chan oneshot #skz x reader #skz x y/n #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #fluff #skz stay #skz #skz fluff #skz fanfic #bang chan ff #skz oneshots #stray kids

[epiclamer]

Okokok this one may be a little specific sorry about that. I decided to pull an all nighter do yk.

Anyways, i had this scenario in my mind that I'd love to see in your style. Basically, hero is just very sick because of some injury getting an infection or something and villain took notice of that and brings them in to help them. They find it weird that hero keeps clinging to them and chalks it up the the delirium. Then hero starts making small comments Abt how soft villain's touch is, and how long it's been since they've been comforted, and it's just villain slowly realizing that hero is very touchstarved for affection and attention bc they don't have any family back at home or something

Don't hafta write this, and if you wanna change up things that's aye-okay! No pressure

Alright genius, I’ll do my best 🫡

Pinning the Blame

Not normally did Villain call in for extra days off, usually they only took a week a year and left it at that. They’d show up to fights no matter what was going on if they were out of vacation to spare. Which is why it made sense that they had to convince the Supervillain with a breezy lie that the situation was life or death.

Yet the situation wasn’t life or death at all. It was Hero.

Villains fingers on their left hand tapped rapidly against the leather sofa, it wasn’t very comfortable—made for show not sitting—and squeaked every time you moved, but their guest didn’t seem to mind. Hero was thoroughly lapping up the comfort, soaking in the care they were receiving through the bundle of blankets Villain had wrapped them in.

One of their hands were free and they easily managed to snatch Villain’s and interlock their fingers. Keeping the criminal close, Hero feared they might lose everything to a feverish dream if they let go; they couldn’t risk that.

“Any better than yesterday?” The villain’s leg was bouncing now, abnormally fast for what anyone could consider calm. “How you’re feeling, I meant…”

Gods, they sounded so stupid. They tried so hard to sound unfazed, but with the hero’s increasing touchiness and neediness, they were beginning to worry. It was melting their frozen heart and they were getting softer by the minute.

Hero hummed, eyes fluttering shut every few seconds as they attempted to keep their focus on the television screen. The movie wasn’t interesting, Villain had mainly put it on as a distraction for themselves, but when Hero insisted on holding hands… Their plan hadn’t worked any longer.

Every second the hero’s thumb was rubbing the back of Villain’s hand, every minute they were moving closer to the criminal’s lap and every moment they made eye contact they blushed on the spot. At first it was suspicious, now it was intriguing.

Villain wanted to push the limits, see just how much the hero wanted, how much they would take from their own nemesis. How much comfort they would find in their enemy. And most of all, how much the villain could get for themselves.

It wasn’t a secret that these jobs were lonely, in fact it got so bad that the villain had honestly been craving their fights, just to feel their touch. Maybe Hero felt the same way, maybe they could comfort each other and maybe—

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” The crime-stopper slurred, sleep mixing into their words and cheeky grin. They clawed themselves even closer to the villain, to the point where they were draped over their lap and looking up at them with exhausted bags under their eyes.

It was too late to try and contain all of the emotions pounding through their heart and thoughts running through their head. Villain knew every last one was scrawled onto their face and the hero was much too gifted when it came to reading others.

In spite of that, they lied anyways.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” If the hero hadn’t known something was up prior, they definitely did when the villain’s voice cracked sombrely as they spoke.

They raised their tired questioning look, one Villain had seen before during countless interrogations and interviews, but never before at this angle. Then they released Villains hand and pressed their palm to the villain’s heart. It beat mercilessly against the hero’s freezing skin, only racing faster now that they knew they had been caught.

“Don’t lie t’me, sweet.”

Not the nickname, anything but the nickname. Villain could handle threats and violence and beatings, but soft nicknames were damned to be the death of them.

They gulped, trying hard to avoid eye contact and ignore the hero’s lingering touch. “…You’re touchy… Ever since you got sick you’ve just been very… clingy?” Was that the right word?

At the mention of their behaviour Hero shot up, startling the villain. They looked ashamed, but the soft pink colouring their cheeks said embarrassed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. If it’s making you uncomfortable I can stop, I didn’t mean any harm, I didn’t even notice really. I’m so sorry, I’ll stop—”

“Don’t.” Hero paused, somewhat shocked at the villain’s interruption. “Don’t stop. Please. Just tell me why.”

Hero was blushing even harder now, caught in the eyes of the villain and too drained from their illness to come up with a believable lie. They despised how easily Villain could flip the cards on them and they’d end up floundering for an answer.

Time passed faster than the crime-stopper willed it to, they needed time for a cover story, but their resources were limited and their brain was too fried to think. So they spun the blame on the most obvious thing, “my fever. It must make me delirious or something, I’m sorry.”

They didn’t blame the villain for not believing them, they could hardly even stand behind their own lie, but it was the best they could do in the spur of the moment. They weren’t that sick, sure they were delirious and sweaty for the first few days, but now it was a case of the chills and exhaustion at worst.

Both of them knew that.

However, Villain didn’t look distrustful at all after being told a boldfaced lie. They didn’t look betrayed or hurt, they looked sad. Not overshadowed by any other emotion, they simply looked sad.

“Oh alright.”

Had the villain been hoping for a different answer? Was telling the truth actually what they needed to hear right now? If Hero told them that the real reason was because they hadn’t been cared for or comforted like this in years, would the villain be happy?

All of these questions ran through their mind as they stared at their nemesis, Villain’s eyes had returned to the movie, but they were numb and suddenly the hero felt guilty for even trying to lie in the first place.

Hero cleared their throat, trying and failing to get the villain’s attention back. “But, I… I guess I don’t get this luxury a lot, so maybe that plays a part too…”

“How so?” Villains eyes flicked to the hero’s for a split second, something hopeful in them that pressed for more.

“I just don’t have anyone,” Hero was partially glad now that the villain’s attention wasn’t on them. “I don’t— It just gets lonely, sometimes. I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

Idly Hero twirled their thumbs against each other, trying to distract from the stinging in their heart and eyes. They had been taught that any crying was a weakness, but in front of their greatest enemy? That was worse.

Villains arms caved in and their warmth overwhelmed the shivering hero, they pulled them tight to their chest in what must’ve been the first real hug the hero had had in years. That was enough to open the flood gates and push Hero into spilling tears all over the villain’s shirt. They clung to the other as tightly as possible, relishing in the comfort of the moment and Villain didn’t let go.

“Don’t apologize, I know. Stay and we can take care of each other, promise.” A soothing hand rubbed circles into Hero’s back at the kind words, instituting a horrible peaceful moment through all the chaos in their head and for the first time in their entire life, Hero was safe.

#SORRY THIS ASK IS SO OLD #I JUST NEVER GOT AROUND #PLS ENJOY #writing #hero #villain #hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes #villains #hero and villain #villain and hero #drabbles #fantasy #fluff #hurt comfort #hurt/comfort #h/c #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #heroes x villains #villains x heroes #touchstarved #touch starved hero #touchy hero #touch starved villain #touch starved

[enhahooninurwindow]

The Twists and Turns Love Holds

Pairing: Sunghoon x gn!reader 🍓MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff, angst

Wc: 663

Warnings: eng isn’t my first lang so I might have made a few mistake although I try not to, not proofread, feel free to correct me 🍓

Monday, 18 March, 2024

You lay in bed scrolling on ur phone with a slight headache. Feeling the pain increase, u get off of ur phone and glance at the clock only to notice it’s 2 in the morning. You and Sunghoon had a fight it this was probably the third day you’ve gone without talking to each other.

It all started on a fine day, warm coffee, 9 in the morning on a cozy Saturday. You sat on the sofa with Sunghoon, against his arm for warmth. You both were watching a new series with breakfast and coffee. Everything was fine until his phone vibrates with a notification and you slightly lift ur head to see. ‘Choi Eunkyung, hey hoon!’ “Weird” you thought. Laying back on his arm you start losing ur focus on the series and start overthinking, what if she’s prettier, what if he likes her?? You were going nuts and decided to go to the washroom to calm down. And if u thought Sunghoon hadn’t noticed u getting all worked up, u were wrong. Just as he was abt to ask u if u were okay, you got put and rushed to the washroom. The next day, feeling useless and unworthy of Sunghoon's love when he had someone else, you texted ur old high school friend, Kim Junghe. You talked for a while and left ur phone open on the bed intentionally for Sunghoon to see. It was not just that girl bothering you, Sunghoon had changed, he gpbecame quite, showed no interest in what you talked abt, he just seemed so unhappy with you. But then again you didn’t know if you were just overthinking. That evening, the house was loud, you both were shouting. Not wanting to listen anymore you break down and lock ur self up in ur shared room. He came, said sorry but ntg worked in ur head since  it was the first time he had ever raised his voice at you, you didn’t understand why tho. (end of flashback)

You walk up to the kitchen noticing Sunghoon laying on the couch eyes wide open. You get ur self a cup of water and plop down on the chair next to the counter placing ur cup on the table. You were overthinking again but this time around, Sunghoon got up, got himself a can of beer and sat down next to u. “Isn’t this the third can today?” u ask concerned. He nods his head with a soft ‘mhm’ as a response. Looking back at ur cup, you ask him “did you really love me?” The atmosphere got heavy, the air darkened around you two. “I had 33 pages all abt u in my diary, ur cafe order, ur moms birthday too. I had ur ring size too.” You notice him start to tear up. “I had dreams abt our family y/n, those were my happiest nights…” his voice was unstable, eyes red with sorrow. You couldn’t help but pull him into a hug. He rested his face on ur shoulder as you rubbed his back, running ur fingers thru his hair. He slowly raised his head to face you, eyes meeting urs, “Park Eunkyung is the latest staff of ur favorite shop, I had asked them for ur dream purse in a cute, gift like wrapping for our two year anniversary. I’m sorry, sorry for raising my voice at u, I’ll block her if u want.” Your heart sank seeing him cry, “Hoon, I love you so much but seeing another girl you’ve never mentioned made me go nuts I’m sorry. Sorry for texting someone else, sorry for being mad at you, sorry for shouting at u without even knowing what was wrong.”

You cuddled and placed butterfly kisses all over his face just to see him flustered and smiling with his fangs out. He cupped your face and said “Ur my whole world y/n” the sincerity in his voice was evident “I love you too hoon”.

#enhahooninurwindow #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon #sunghoon angst #sunghoon x reader

[gremlin-bot]

Messages From the Formally Deceased

This was Beta read by my lovely platonic spouses @half-dead-ham and @bewitched-forest!!! This was suppose to be for Ship week but it got way out of hand! So enjoy some soulmates with multiverse shenanigans!

Ao3 link: Here Master List: Here

Summary: The Fenton children have always been different, even before the increased ecto-contamination and ghost hunting. Not that most would notice the ink on their skin that they couldn’t have drawn on themselves. They're kids, they get messy. By the time they got older all other factors in their lives overshadowed the messages exchanged in ink on their skin. After all who would notice a discussion on literature scribbled in two sets of script on Jasmine's arm, or the compliments tucked under drawings of constellations crawling across lanky limbs.

Chapter 1: How did we both become vigilantes‽‽

Danny has always loved the writing on his sister's skin. He would trace the curly letters next to his sister's chicken scratch handwriting when he was upset and his parents were too busy to comfort him. He didn't think he would get his own writing, or that's how Jazz explained it to him. She said that she had a soulmate and because no one else had one, she was a special case and it would be very rare that it would happen again. 

Turns out Danny was special as well. On his 7th birthday his parents gave him markers but no coloring books to use them on. So like any kid who has older siblings would do, he copied Jazz and drew on his arm. He drew Saturn as he found the rings around the planet to be cool. He was outlining it in a dark blue when he noticed the shaky lettering. 'That's pretty' is now sprawled under his drawing. Danny couldn't barely contain himself as he grabbed the marker tighter and wrote 'Thank you' underneath the other's message. He spent the rest of the afternoon drawing on himself, covering his body in planets, stars and unsteady letters. By the time Jazz got home from her friend's house, his arms were covered completely and his legs were no better. He didn't give her time to scold him before showing her the writing on his skin. 

"Jazz, look!! I'm special just like you!!" Danny shoved his arm into Jazz's hands. Her eyes widening as she takes in the drawings and childish handwriting. Slowly, a smile spreads across her face. 

"It seems like you are! How about next time you borrow my markers? I'll even give you some of my old ones. It'll be easier to wash off." She leads Danny by the hand up the stairs.

"Okay! Can I get my own markers like yours, too?" Danny's excitement was infectious as he all but hopped behind Jazz into her room.

"I'll ask mom about it later, but I don't see why not," Jazz said while grabbing her spare set of markers and handing them to Danny. "Here they are. Please don't lose them, okay?"

"I'll be careful, promise!!" Danny takes them carefully, like they are the most precious thing in the world, and for him they are. He is finally special like Jazz! He has someone he can always talk to! 

—---------

Danny was never without a marker or pen after that day. He often has several of both on his person and even more in his bag. There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't fill his skin with stars for his soulmate. Over the years he's learned more about them, him. 

They talk about everything and nothing, all around Danny's drawings. His soulmate's name is Tim and he loves taking pictures and solving puzzles. He can't draw to save his life but he's good at math. His city has real heroes and villains that fight each other. Danny thinks that's cool but still wishes that Tim would stop following around the vigilantes. He knows Tim can keep himself safe but he still worries. It's not like Tim would ever try to become a vigilante.

Danny really should have known Tim would prove him wrong. Danny was working on an essay in his room when, after not hearing from the other boy for 4 months, Tim's blocky handwriting slowly crawled across his arm. Each line being placed with increasing speed. This happens sometimes; the long gaps of replies followed with a reply written too fast, or a message that takes days to slowly show on his skin. Tim has a theory that time changes based on their universes shifting closer or farther from each other. Danny doesn't have time to think about theories or even a reply before his inner forearm is covered in Tim's handwriting.

'Danny you got to promise me not to be upset when time decides to work. You know how I was looking for Nightwing so he could come back and be Robin for Batman again. Well I found him and he said no, but I did convince him to help Batman again. Unfortunately that meant that he still needed a Robin. So, I may or may not have become a Robin…' 

'Tim wtf, why are you like this,' If Danny could rip a hole into Tim's universe and shake some common sense into him, Danny would be doing that now.

'Because someone has to. I've gotten tons of training from Batman and he's not letting me out of sight when on patrol. I'll be fine,' Tim's reply was written at his normal speed. Time seems to be on their side for a little while.  

'Okay, but if anything happens, write as soon as you can. I want to know that you're okay.' 

'Of course! Even if I couldn't write to you myself I would make sure someone did!' Danny shook his head. Not like there was anything he could do about Tim. Maybe he should tell Jazz, but no. Jazz looked sad whenever he talked about the writing on his skin recently. He remembers her mumbling about goodbyes when he asked. He just doesn't know and really doesn't want to make her any more upset.

Danny does what he always does when Tim is considered, he draws galaxies on to his skin. He decides that his thigh would be the best canvas for the drawing of the Andromeda galaxy he has been planning. Essay completely forgotten for the stars he wants to show the other boy.

—--------

Danny was going to fight his arm. It wouldn’t stay tangible long enough for him to write a message to Tim. This sucks, he just wants to tell the other boy about him maybe also being a hero now, but his dumb powers will not work with him. He takes a deep breath and holds it. Letting it out slowly, using what Jazz taught him to calm down. Getting frustrated won’t help him. 

Gods, he was tired. The fight with the lunch lady ghost was just the beginning of the hoard of spirits that would come through the portal. He started to skip classes and hasn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep since. Tonight was one of the rare nights that nothing came through. It would be perfect to write to Tim, If only his body got the memo. 

The green marker dropped to his desk as intangibly flickers through both arms. Danny almost topples forward, but regains his arms in time to catch himself. Holding his position he waits for his powers to activate and… nothing happens. Relief washes over him, he can finally write to Tim! He’ll have to clean the marks left on his desk from this incident later, but that isn’t important. 

‘I have good news and bad news. What do you want first?” Danny decided that it was best to start with this. It will be better than the info dump Tim did to him.

‘Let’s go with the good news first.’ Seeing Tim respond was calming for Danny. The other boy was there for him. He’d understand.

‘I can no longer make fun of you for being a teen hero.’

‘Danny!” 

Tim definitely figured out that he was a hero from that. Well, time to rip off the Band-Aid. Danny takes a deep breath as he grips the marker more firmly. Writing as fast but neatly as he could. ‘Bad news, I may have died and come back to life leading to me becoming half ghost and my town’s hero.’

‘Danny what the FUCK‽‽ Are you okay now?’

‘Kinda… I spent the last hour fighting my arms trying to make them stay tangible enough to write to ya’ ‘Dude, that doesn't sound okay. What exactly are you dealing with? I want to help.’ Danny can't help but melt a little at the words the other boy had written to him. Tim was so caring in his own way that the other boy rarely recognized. Gods, Danny might be a goner for the other boy if it wasn’t for the fact that he would never get to see him. He spent the rest of the night explaining to Tim about what happened to him and the powers he got because of it. Falling even more for the boy with a sharp mind and caring heart through it all, no matter how he denies it.

#dcxdp #tim drake #danny fenton #tim drake x danny fenton #Messages From the Formally Deceased #soulmates #chapter fic #Writing on the walls

[spageddie-os]

Little One

CG!Eddie Munson x Little!Reader

SFW INTERACTIONS ONLY!

Warnings: Parents fighting, Bigspace but only for a few paragraphs, Mentions of drugs (weed, alcohol)

Summary: Y/N's parents won't stop fighting, Eddie takes care of them and instantly puts them in a smaller headspace.

This was written for my very lovely little one, I love you more than anything sweetheart.

This is my first fanfiction so please don’t be mean

     The fighting and loud screaming lasted for hours, it went on for so long you began to lose track of how long it had actually been going on for. You don’t remember what started the fight, you doubt their parents even remember either. 

     You tossed and turned in your bed desperate for any shut eye you could get to escape from the loud noises that came from the living room. You wanted to run away and hide in the chest of your boyfriend, but you refused to call him or go to his trailer considering it was extremely late and he was most likely asleep. He needed his sleep, and you weren’t going to bother him.

A few more hours pass and you were still awake, listening to the muffled argument your parents were still having. You looked over at your alarm clock which read, 6:27. You couldn’t believe this had gone on all night, at least you could see Eddie now.

You slowly opened your window, trying to not make any noise, and climbed outside. You ran as fast as you absolutely could until you got to Eddie’s trailer door. You paused, wondering if he was busy and contemplating bothering him. As you were lost in your train of thought the door was opened by the messy haired brunette.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Are you alright sweetheart?” Eddie questioned with worry traced in his calming voice.

The petname he used immediately made you slip into a smaller state of mind. Your hands found themselves wrapped around Eddie’s torso, gripping onto his Hellfire shirt for dear life. Eddie’s worry began to increase when you started shaking and crying, not sure what to do he led to to the couch that reeked of weed and alcohol and sat you down. To most people they would have gagged at the smell of the whole trailer, but to you it smelled comforting. 

Eddie wrapped a blanket over your shaking body and sat next to you, placing his hand on the small of your back. You tried to talk but the only thing that managed to come out of your mouth was shaky whispers and whines that Eddie couldn’t understand no matter how hard he tried. Then it suddenly hit him with what was going on.

“Are you feeling small puppy?” He softly questioned as he rubbed your cheek lovingly.

You sat there, not wanting to answer him, but your wide glassy eyes told him that you were in fact feeling small. He quickly got up and started digging through the kitchen cabinets until he found your small F/C bottle. He filled it up with milk and put it in the microwave for exactly 30 seconds, then added a tiny bit of vanilla and sugar just the way you like it. Then he ran to his room to search for your paci and your favorite stuffed animal that he got for you on your birthday last year.

After retrieving the items he was looking for he gave you your stuffed animal and moved you so your head could rest on his lap comfortably. When you both got comfortable, he began to bottle feed you. It was something he insisted on every time and you would always argue with him telling him you were a big kid and could do it yourself, but secretly you wanted him to hold the bottle for you. This time you were too exhausted to protest.

When you finished your bottle your eyes began to shut. When Eddie knew you were fully asleep, he gently picked your sleeping body and set you on his bed. He got your special F/C blanket out from under his bed and laid it on top of you. He made sure you were comfortable before carefully laying down next to you.

“I love you, little one.” He whispered before shutting his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

#eddie munson #x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #cg eddie #little reader #stranger things #sfw

[queenshelby]

Roleplay Series

Part Two: Check Up

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1945

Warning: Smut, Prostate Milking, Medical Fetish

For the past six years, you had been working as a general practitioner and, whenever you wore your white lab coat and dark framed specs, your husband became wild for you.

Of course, you would never see him as your patient but, when the topic surrounding his annual check up came up, he told you that he had always fantasised about you doing it rather than someone else.

According to him, you had some skills which other doctors couldn’t compete with and arousing him sexually was just one of them.

“Alright, you can have an exam with me Cills. After your actual consultation with your doctor, you can come to see me at my office after hours and I will make all of your filthy dreams come true” you told him on his 46th birthday and just a week later, he indeed arrived at your practice after all of the nurses had gone home.

***

“Please undress so that I can begin with my exam” you said as Cillian came into the consulting room.

“Undress? You mean completely?” he asked shyly.

“Yes, completely!” you said while putting on some rubber gloves for authenticity.

“Okay doctor, if you think that it is necessary…” he stammered while you watched him strip all the way down to his Calvin Klein briefs.

“The briefs as well” you said and, just as he dropped them to the floor, your eyes took him.

Without losing any time, you placed the stethoscope on his chest and listened to his heart and then you took his blood pressure.

It all seemed straight forward until, suddenly, you smiled.

“Spread your legs please. I will need to assess something else as well” you said and, clearly, this was the part he had been waiting for.

“Yes doctor” Cillian said, swallowing harshly before complying with your request.

Once his legs were spread, you drizzled some lube on your finger and rubbed it around on his package, making sure to coat every part of the underside of his balls with the lube for an easy examination.

Cillian gasped, trying to hold back his arousal as you examined his balls with a little more force, separating them to either side and giving each of them attention with your gloved fingers.

“It all looks good so far. You’ve got a very nice cock” you said as you could hear the resulting moans and felt the increased motion of his body against your hands, letting you know that he was loving it.

“And your balls are nice and firm and seemingly rather full as well” you then teased while Cillian’s cock was quickly hardening and, after a few more seconds you slid your lubed fingers up the underside of his cock.

“When have you masturbated last?” you asked and, sure enough, your husband didn’t want to answer that.

“Two days ago” he murmured quietly and you gave his balls a little squeeze before you kept moving your other hand slowly up his shaft. With both of your hands in play, you massaged him gently until the first droplet of precum was expelled from his cockhead.

“Clearly, you don’t have any problems achieving an erection. You are very hard and leaking precum already” you observed, causing Cillian to chuckle before sticking out your tongue and tasting his precum.

“Whoa, doctor. Is that really necessary?” Cillian asked cheekily and you smiled while interrupting him quickly.

“Yes, it is completely necessary. It’s called the taste test” you teased before standing up and asking him to turn around.

“Turn around?” Cillian asked a little surprised by your request and you nodded.

“Yes please, turn around and bend over the desk a little. It is time for me to examine your prostate” you told him and his eyes widened immediately.

“Seriously?” he asked and you nodded with a sheepish grin. He didn’t seem to have expected that you were going to such lengths.  

“Yes, seriously. This is also completely necessary at your age” you told him and, after he finally complied with your request, you added some more lube to your index finger.

“This may be a little cold and you may feel some pressure” you told him as the glistening tip of your finger touched his hole and he tightened in anticipation, making his cock bounce at the same time.

“Fuck” Cillian then groaned as you were steadily pushing your finger in to his back side while using your other hand to gently toy with his balls.

“Just relax” you told him but you didn't realise how hard you were actually pushing until Cillian let out a breath and relaxed for a split second. The moment he did the resistance you were pushing against disappeared and your finger slid almost all the way in to him.

His body reacted and he tightened up, but it was too late to stop the intrusion.

“Just take a deep breath” you said but were rewarded with groan as the tightening locked down on your finger, pulling it even deeper inside.

“Very good” you cooed as, instead of pulling your finger back out of him, you just moved it in slow circles inside him.

“Jesus doctor…that feels…fuck” Cillian groaned in pleasure as you finally found his prostate on the second circle, which was also evident by the involuntary twitch that happened each time you pushed in to it.

“Just a little longer. I am just feeling for any abnormalities” you teased as you started making the circles smaller so that your finger spent more time against his internal pleasure button.

“Okay doctor, take as long as you need” Cillian gasped and it took him a minute or so of this treatment until he finally relaxed in to the sensations enough that you were able to pump your finger in and out of him a little easier, making sure to hit the 'cum button' inside him on each pass.

“How does it feel? Any discomfort?” you teased and it wasn't much longer after that before you realised he was actually rolling his hips into the motion and moaning in times with the thrusts.

“No discomfort doctor...” Cillian groaned and you smiled. You hadn't even stoked his cock in a few minutes but everything about his movement made it seem like he was on the edge of an orgasm.

You figured that, any second, he'd be cumming if you kept this up so it was probably time to make a request.

“I will need a sperm sample too Mr Murphy. Do you think you can do that for me?” you teased before reaching for his cock with your free hand, coaxing some initial cum from his tip.

“I sure can doctor” he told you and, with that, you moved your middle finger into position on the outside of his rim. Between the lube and the laxity of his sphincter muscles you slipped in the second finger with ease and an even louder groan escaped him.

When you looked up at your patient, you saw that Cillian’s face was frozen in pleasure. A continuous moan emitted from his open mouth and his expression made it seem like he was entirely lost in an alternative reality which you had created. One where the only thought that occupied his brain was the stimulation in his prostate and the general sensations in his rectum.

Cum was now leaking from his cock uncontrollably and, by the looks of him, you weren’t sure that he could even remember his own name.

“If you turn around you can deposit your sample directly into my mouth Mr Murphy” you then said sheepishly, knowing that he was nearing his release.

“Another taste test, huh?” Cillian chuckled and, without removing your fingers from his rectum, you turned to the side and so did he.

By now, Cillian was less and less aware of anything in the world around him and he didn’t even register when you wrapped your lips around his shaft. He was so focused on the pleasure that he was attaining from this prostate stimulation that he was unable to fully understand exactly what you were doing. He knew that you were applying pressure to his prostate, it had started so intensely as soon as you targeted it but somehow that intensity had grown. What began as wide circled around the edges of his gland had settled into targeted pressure. Hard pressure, easing, hard pressure, easing. You never fully removed your finger from his prostate but merely alternated between how you pressed.

“Oh fuck” Cillian groaned as you settled into pressing each finger hard against his gland in alternating fashion which meant that his prostate never fully escaped the extreme pressure treatment he was being subjected to.

He was a trembling mess by this time and cum kept on dribbling from his cock straight into your mouth. It was like you were milking him of all that he had and you were determined to empty his balls completely.

“Don’t stop” Cillian eventuelly told you through gritted teeth as he never had even a microsecond of breaktime for his mind to recover. All he felt was just one continuous and alternating wave of pleasure emanating from inside his butthole outward to the rest of his body.

Cillian was consumed by ecstasy and was completely bending to your will. He was so close, you could feel and you could taste it as more and more cum came flowing out of him and into your mouth.

You began to move faster now and you never relented for even a second while pressing against Cillian’s prostate and he never stopped moaning.

You felt your husband starting to tense at this point and you knew that this was the moment, the moment when his pent-up orgasm would be released.

Knowing this you kept working harder and harder and Cillian’s orgasm finally broke. It was like no other sensation that he had ever felt in his life. A flood of cum erupted from his balls to shoot out of his cock and his normally marginal loads were replaced by a torrent of sticky goodness.

“Jesus Y/N, Fuck” Cillian groaned as you dutifully hoovered it up, feeling almost a cup of cum slide down your throat.

His toes curled, his back arched, his already intense moaning went into overdrive. And it all emanated from inside of him.

Just as you swallowed his seed, you stroked his prostate some more, even harder this time, bringing on another wave that would shoot through his entire body. Cillian writhed in pleasure, unable to control himself, unable to register even the most basic of thoughts beyond feeling pleasure. This seemingly went on forever, an entire universe could have been born and died in the moments that he felt that orgasm.

Gradually the sensation began to fade and he became intimately aware that his prostate and cock were now even more sensitive. You eased off to a slight pressure and a soft suckle on his cock and yet it was still almost too intense for him to bare.

“Your cum tastes so good, very healthy indeed” you winked as your mouth left his cock and he looked and saw that it was still dribbling cum despite the fact that his body was unable to shoot it out anymore.

“I am glad” Cillian gasped with as slight flinch a you removed your fingers from his tight sphincter. He was spent and found it difficult to breathe.

“Do you need to relax a little?” you grinned, seeing how dizzy he had become and when he pulled up his briefs and laid back into one of the armchairs inside your office, you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Please tell me that I need to come back for another check up doctor” he told and you laughed.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you

[fromtheashesweriseif]

Hi! Are you still looking for angsty prompts? How would the ROs react if they trusted the wrong person, who turned around and used something they were told privately to embarrass the MC in front of the Court? And the MC then says they'll never forgive the ROs?

This is such a deliciously angst prompt I cannot in good concience skip on this (sorry if it took me a long time for this!) I’m just going to twist this a bit: let’s say that this person didn’t embarass MC (it takes a lot to do that with the kind of reputation they already have) but rather humiliated them.

Sekh’: They feel nauseous. They can only stare at you as you leave the ballroom, shellshocked by the realisation that it’s over and that this time there will be no turning back. They struggle to even breathe properly as they think that it’s all their fault.

Sekh’ has been starved of companionship for so long that when they approached them for a conversation, Sekh’ eventually opened up. After a few weeks, they began confiding in them. Now they feel sick at the realisation that everything has been crudely paraded in front of half the Court, presented in the most dehumanising way possible.

Their gaze falls on the person responsible for this and hot blinding fury consumes them. They have nothing more to lose now. They’ll make the bastard pay, let this be the last thing they do at Court.

Cherena: Cherena’s brain is stuck between complete denial and crushing, painful betrayal. Of ll the shallow friendships they had formed through their years at Court, they thought this one was genuine. They made the mistake of trusting them with the things they couldn’t tell their grandparents or any acquaintance.

Cherena feels like their heart is being ripped out from their chest. The pain only increases when you spat out all your hateful resentment towards them.

Their whole world shatters just as their heart does. They hurt you. They would never.. they would never do that, they love you more then themself, how did this happen. Once their panic abides a bit, Cherena hurts for days, for weeks, at times so much they become numb.

They ignore all their duties at Court, though they make sure of one thing: that traitor will suffer a fate much, much worse than you have. They will tear their reputation to shreds.

Zaphia: As soon as their former friend starts talking, Zaphia feels the ground pulled out from under them. Blood rushes to their ears and a deafening whistle is all they can hear from then on.

They try to intervene but once started they don’t stop talking. They talk about things they have no right to tell, they take what Zaphia told them and weaponise in a disgusting, brutal way. Zaphia wants to throw up.

Once it ends and you confront them with anger and tears in your eyes, they feel sick. And when you leave them with the promise of never forgiving them, Zaphia’s tears slowly fall on the floor too.

In the coming days they feel the need to hide from everything, to disappear and grieve, so they it’s exactly what they do, leaving the Court behind once and for all.

#ask #angst #ro: sekh' #ro: cherena #ro: zaphia

[sequinsmile-x]

I 🤍 your writing so much. Can I please request a fic? Could you please write something about Hotch being really sad/flat and Emily comforting him? I’m having a really hard time and I identify more with Hotch’s personality so this would be a huge comfort fic for me. I understand if you don’t have time right now though. 🤍 to you anyway xxx

Oh friend, I am so sorry you're having a rough time.

Please look after yourself as best as you can right now <3 and drink water (that's always the first thing that goes for me when I'm struggling!)

I hope this helps even just a little bit <3

-x-

Fallback

It was the same every year. 

Aaron struggles as the seasons change.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: features descriptions of anxiety and depression, and mentions of grief

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It was the same every year. 

Every time the nights got cooler, the sun setting a little earlier each day, he’d feel it. The heaviness in his chest would increase, slowly weighing him down until it wore him out. He’d feel like he had a pit in his stomach, the ever-present feeling that something would go wrong, that he would lose everything, lingering around him like the chill in the air. Something he couldn’t shake off no matter how much he tried.

It was something a lot of people struggled with. The season of change, the end of summer. It was a busy time of year in their household. It was Jack’s birthday, then Emily’s. Then his. And there was Thanksgiving and then Christmas. 

Among all of it was the anniversary of Haley’s death, the memory of which was always present, but got stronger whenever he saw the first leaf turn orange. 

Haley always enjoyed this time of year. She had thrived in the fall, and it was impossible to hear the crunching of leaves beneath his feet without thinking of her. 

It had left him feeling on edge, the feeling heightened this year because Emily was at home. She was on maternity leave, spending time with their seven-week-old daughter, Lily. He missed them and Jack when he was away. It felt like he was still readjusting to being back at work after his month off after Lily was born. The days had gone by slowly, but the weeks had flown by.

Aaron knew the team had noticed, that his wife had too. He knew he was grumpy, snapping when they made the tiniest of errors in paperwork or made an incorrect assumption whilst building a profile. 

He sighs with relief as he walks into their home, some of the tension in his body dissipating as he’s surrounded by warmth, closing the door on the cool night air. 

He doesn’t see Jack in the living room, so he imagines the young boy must be playing one of his video games in the den. Aaron smiles when he hears a noise from the kitchen. As he walks closer, abandoning his coat and his bag in the foyer near the door, he can hear Emily talking softly, as she gently opens and closes cupboard doors. 

He waits in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment, watching his wife pace around the kitchen as she unloaded the dishes, putting them away as quietly as she possibly could. Lily was strapped to her chest, the baby wrap that Penelope had gifted them one of their favourite baby items so far, and Emily was talking to her, one of her hands on the infant's back. 

Emily looked tired but happy, smiling down at their daughter and speaking as if the baby could respond. Lily had been suffering from colic since she was born, and it meant sleep had become a rare commodity in the Hotchner house. 

“Daddy thinks he’s sneaky, huh?” She says, looking up at him and grabbing his full attention, “He should know he can’t sneak up on me by now.”

He flashes a quick smile at her and closes the gap between them. He leans in to kiss her, murmuring a hello against her lips before he kisses her again. He sneaks a look into the baby wrap and sees Lily is still awake, her wide dark eyes looking up at him, something close to a smile on her face. 

“Hi princess,” he says, running a knuckle down the soft skin of his daughter’s cheek, “I missed you.” 

“What about me?” Emily asks, her eyebrow raised at him in jest as he looks back up at her. 

“ I missed you too,” he replies, kissing her again so she’d miss the smile that felt forced. 

She looks up at him curiously as she pulls back, the hand that had been on Lily’s back reaching out to cup his cheek. Her eyebrows knit together as she studies him, looking at him as if she could read him like a book.

“Are you ok honey?” 

The question makes him freeze for a second, but he snaps out of it quickly, “Of course,” he leans in and kisses her cheek, “I know Garcia and JJ are excited to see you tonight,” he says, taking a step back from her, “I’ll go say hi to Jack and get changed, and then I’ll take her from you so you can get ready.” 

She’s still looking at him, concern swimming in her eyes as she searches his features for something, anything, that would tell her he was keeping something from her. 

He knows she’s found it the moment she agrees silently, a small nod confirming his plan as he turns to walk away.

___

Emily makes her decision before he’s even left her line of sight. She waits until she can’t see him anymore and she can hear Jack’s enthusiastic greeting as Aaron joins him in the den. 

She pulls her phone out of her pocket, the movement making Lily fuss against her. 

“Sorry baby,” she murmurs, kissing the top of her daughter's head as she finds JJ’s number in her phone. She waits for the phone to connect, her friend’s greeting coming down the line.

“Em, hey, I was just going to text and ask what you are going to wear,” JJ says, clearly moving around as she talks. 

Emily sighs, “That’s why I’m calling, JJ-” she’s cut off by a well timed cry from Lily and she shushes her, starting to pace the kitchen a little to soothe the baby, “you’re ok sweet girl.” 

“You’re not coming are you,” JJ asks, her voice full of nothing but empathy. 

She smiles despite the fact her friend can’t see her, “No, I’m sorry. She’s really fussy, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving her. Even for just a few hours.” 

It wasn’t a lie, not really. The idea of leaving her little girl behind for the first time had been troubling her for a few days, but as soon as she locked eyes with her husband she knew something wasn’t right. She was sure the team would be aware too, that he wouldn’t have been able to hide his low mood from a group of profilers, but she knew he valued his privacy as much as she does. They made sure to keep certain things just between the two of them, and this was one of them. 

“I understand,” JJ says, “I felt the same way. I’ll miss you though.” 

“Thanks, JJ,” Emily says, still pacing the kitchen, Lily calming at the repetitive motion, “Would you mind…”

“I’ll tell Pen, don’t worry,” JJ replies, already knowing what she was going to ask, “but tell my adorable little niece that she owes me a cuddle for facing Aunt Pen’s wrath for her.” 

Emily laughs, and kisses the top of the baby’s head again. “I will,” she hears her husband’s footsteps on the stairs, and she knows he’s heading upstairs, “I should go, we’ll rearrange it soon, ok?” 

“Of course.”

She exchanges goodbyes with her friend and blows out a slow breath as she slips her phone back into her pocket. She looks down at her daughter and smiles when she sees her getting sleepy, her cheek pressed against Emily’s chest. 

“Come on, baby,” she starts to walk towards the stairs, “let’s get you fed and changed before you fall asleep, then we’ll check on your daddy.”

___

She takes extra time feeding Lily, rocking slowly back and forth in the chair they keep in the nursery. She gives her husband time by himself, knowing he’d need it. 

She changes the baby into a soft sleepsuit and carries her towards the master bedroom. Aaron looks up at her as she opens the door, and she smiles at him. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. He’s taken off his jacket and tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. 

“I’ll take her,” he says, sitting up a little straighter, “you’ll be late if you don’t start getting ready.”

“You can take her,” she says, walking over and handing him Lily, love for the two of them flooding her at the sight of him holding their daughter, his hand almost the same size as her back. She sits next to him on the bed, and rests her head on his shoulder, looking at their little girl resting on his other one, “But I’m not going anywhere.” 

She feels him tense under her, the hand that had been rubbing a soothing circle on Lily’s back coming to a stop. 

“Em, you should go.” He says, and she lifts her head to look at him, her heart aching at the sadness she sees lingering in his eyes, “We’ll be fine.” 

She gives him a half smile, “I want to spend time with you,” she says, reaching out to straighten out his collar before she cups the back of Lily’s head, the little girl's eyes drifting shut. Safe and comfortable in her father’s arms, “And she’s been more unsettled than usual, it wouldn’t feel right leaving her.” 

He knows it’s a half-truth, and she can see it on his face, but he concedes. Nodding before he tilts his head down to look at Lily, now fast asleep. Emily follows his gaze and playfully scoffs. 

“Sure, she’s kept me awake for hours for the last several nights, but two whole minutes in Daddy’s arms and she’s asleep,” she kisses his cheek before she stands, gently removing the baby from his hold without waking her, a move they were now well practised at almost two months in. She kisses her daughter's head, telling her how much she loved her in every language she knew, knowing there would never be enough words to express it. She lays Lily down in the bassinet on her side of the bed and turns back to find her husband still sitting exactly where she’d left him. “Shall we get into bed?”

He looks at his watch, “A bit early isn’t it?” 

She reaches out for him and runs her fingers through his hair, sees how his eyes close as she does so, and hears the sigh that escapes him. 

“We don’t have to sleep yet,” she says, scratching at his scalp, “it’s been a while since we’ve just…laid down together.” 

Aaron smiles at her, and it’s not the usual one he reserves just for her and their family, but it’s something. 

“No one would ever believe me if I told them you are a snuggler.” 

She bites her lip to stop herself from smiling, and she playfully narrows her eyes at him. 

“And if you ever want to do more than snuggle ever again you won’t tell a soul,” she leans down and kisses the top of his head, “go get changed, honey.” 

He gets up and heads to the bathroom, grabbing his pyjamas from under his pillow as he goes. She changes into her pyjamas, looking in on Lily again before she climbs into bed as if she was going to be more than just a few feet away from her little girl. It doesn’t take Aaron long to join her, slipping under the covers. His warmth immediately surrounding her. He doesn’t move towards her like he usually does, and she rolls onto her side so she can observe him. He was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. 

She didn’t like to push him, but it had been days of this. Weeks if she was honest with herself. It was only her or the kids who would be able to momentarily bring him out of it, and she knew that wasn’t sustainable. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks as she places her hand on his chest, gently rubbing circles over his t-shirt. 

This initial answer is a sigh, and she watches him close his eyes before turning his head to look at her. 

“I don’t know how to.” He says eventually, and it makes her ache, makes her wish she could hunt down anything, or anyone, who had ever hurt him. 

She cups his cheek, running her thumb under his eye. “That’s ok,” she assures him, “you can start wherever feels right.” 

Emily sits up, her back against the headboard, and she casts a glance over at their still-sleeping newborn as she encourages Aaron to shift into her lap. He places his head against her stomach and rests his arm over her waist. She wraps her arms around him, one of her hands buried in his hair. When they fall into silence again, the only movement from him the way he rubbed the material of her t-shirt between his fingers, she tries again, carefully choosing her words. 

“I know this time of year is hard for you,” she says, scratching at his scalp, “there’s a lot going on even in a normal year, and now we have a newborn around it-”

“It’s not her,” he cuts over her, squeezing her a little tighter, “or you and Jack,” he takes a deep breath, “Whenever it’s fall I think about Haley, and that I couldn’t save her,” he clears his throat, an attempt to dislodge the lump there, “and now I have more to lose than ever.” 

She drops a kiss on the top of his head, “We’re right here, honey,” she kisses his head again, “I’m right here. Lily is asleep four feet away. Jack is in his room, probably still playing a game even though he knows he should be in bed by now.” He chuckles dryly, and she feels it against her chest more than she hears it. “Aaron…I think you should talk to someone.” 

“I’m talking to you,” he replies flatly, her suggestion landing exactly like she thought it would. 

“I know, but I’m your wife, and I love you and want to help more than I can say,” she shifts so they are looking at each other and she cups his cheek, “but you need to speak to someone who can help, who can give you the tools to help yourself.” He still looks unsure, defiance shining in his eyes, and it makes her smile, his stubborn streak one of the many things she loved about him, “it’s what you’d tell me to do,” she smiles, “hell you have told me to do it before.” 

He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head at her. “You’re right.” 

She cups his cheek, “I always am.” 

He settles back down against her, holding her close as if she was his anchor. His port in a storm. She’d happily hold him up until he could do it himself, willing to fight every battle for him just like he would do for her. 

“It will be ok, honey,” she says, kissing his forehead. 

He’s silent for a moment, the only sound in the room Lily’s soft breaths from next to them, but then he speaks, his words muffled against her neck. 

“I know. I’ve got you.” 

-x-

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[fullyvisible]

Gone and Return for the WIP game!

TWO! You spoil me!!

Gone is one of my oldest still-in-the-works WIPs; I started it roughly a decade ago while I was in college, and it's haunted me ever since (which is appropriate, since it's about a college student being haunted by her recently-deceased best friend).

It’s worse on the nights I see him. Those nights—like tonight—reopen all the wounds I’ve been trying so desperately to mask, slicing through the scars and cutting deep. And those nights have been happening with increasing frequency. The first time was the most difficult—probably because it was the most unexpected. I was walking by the Circle K across the street from my apartment when he fell into step beside me. It was exactly one week since the accident—what a frail, useless word—and I needed to buy something strong enough to drown my pain. At least 80 proof. I screamed when I saw him, and he immediately scanned the area for some nonexistent attacker. When he couldn’t find a source of danger, he’d just looked so pathetically confused.

“Who the hell are you?” I yelled at him, my voice shaking, backing away.

Logan’s eyebrows drew together, shoulders sagging. He stepped towards me hesitantly. “Adds, what are you talking about? It’s me!”

“If this is someone’s idea of a joke,” I said loudly, looking at everything but the man—the image of a man—in front of me, “it’s so—unbelievably—cruel—” Tears were falling, but I barely noticed.

He shook his head, utterly bewildered. “No one’s joking, Addie, I just—are you okay?”

“No,” I cried frantically, “I’m not okay, because you’re dead!”

I immediately regretted my words, but it was too late to take them back. His eyes widened, jaw going slack, and suddenly he was the one backing away. “I can’t be dead. I can’t be—earlier today, we were … we …” His eyes clouded. “I don’t remember. What did we do today?”

My mouth gaped, struggling for air, but no words came out. I just stood as if petrified, unable to think, unable to breathe, as he came harshly to terms with his own mortality.

“Ethan. We were with Ethan, and I’d been drinking, and then he …” Logan shook his head sharply, trying to break through a haze of memory. “You were driving us home, when –” he drew in a sharp breath; do ghosts breathe? “Adds, no, tell me I’m crazy, tell me we didn’t get hit, tell me I’m not –”

“You are,” I choked. “You’re dead, Logan. You’re dead.” I kept repeating it. Whether I was trying to convince him or myself, I couldn’t say. Either way, he must have believed me, because in a flash, with a terrible yell—just like that last yell, in the car, when the headlights slammed into us—he vanished, and I was left standing outside the Circle K completely and utterly alone.

Return is my newest original WIP. It's about three cousins who find a special, secret world, slowly lose it over the years, and are forced to find it again as adults when one of them goes missing. That is (somewhat alarmingly) all I really have in terms of plot structure; I just know it's about magic and growing up and moving on but never really leaving.

Sophia’s eyes widened. “The walkie talkie—how long has it been since we checked in?”

Charlotte’s heart sank; she wasn’t sure how long it had been, but it had to have been longer than the thirty minutes required by their parents. “It was two-thirty when we checked in last, and now it’s . . .” She paused to check her watch, and she frowned. “Oh. That’s weird.”

Lizzie sat up. “What is it? How late are we?”

“We’re not,” said Charlotte. “It’s only two-forty-five.”

“Oh,” said Lizzie. Charlotte could practically see how hard she was thinking. “That’s good, then.”

“Are you sure your watch isn’t broken?” asked Sophia. “There’s no way we could’ve gone this far in fifteen minutes.”

“I’m sure,” said Charlotte defensively.

“Even if it is broken, we would have no way of knowing that,” said Lizzie with a shrug. “As far as we know, the watch is working fine, so we still have fifteen minutes before they’ll be expecting us to check in.”

“I guess,” said Sophia slowly.

“Well, I know,” said Lizzie with confidence.

“Since we’re thinking about it, though,” said Sophia, “let’s just call in now. Then it will be another half hour before we have to think about it again.”

“Fine,” Lizzie shrugged. “The walkie talkie is tied to my saddle. You can get it if you want.”

Sophia sighed, but she got up and went over to Butterscotch to get the walkie talkie. She pressed the call button.

Nothing happened.

She frowned and pressed it again. “I think we’re out of range,” she said, looking at the walkie talkie as if she could increase its abilities through disapproval alone.

“How can we be out of range?” asked Charlotte. “We’re just behind the Fitzsimmons’ place.”

Lizzie’s eyes were wide and excited. “What if we’re not?” she said.

“What do you mean?” asked Sophia. “Of course we’re just behind the Fitzsimmons’ place. You saw where we went off the trail.”

Charlotte leaned into Lizzie’s excitement. “What if Lizzie’s right?” she asked. “What if we—I don’t know, went through a portal or something?”

“Exactly!” said Lizzie. “Think about it, Soph. We know the whole area around the Fitzsimmons’. All this couldn’t fit back there.”

“Are you saying it’s magic?” asked Sophia dubiously.

Lizzie tilted her chin up in a challenge. “Are you saying it’s not?”

“I’m just saying we don’t need to jump straight to the most fantastical conclusion,” Sophia argued. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

Lizzie wrinkled her nose and turned to Charlotte. “I hope I don’t get all boring when I’m old like Sophia.”

“I’m only two years older than you are!” Sophia protested.

“A lot can change in two years,” said Lizzie with a shrug. “I’m a totally different person than I was when I was eleven.”

Charlotte, who was still only twelve, stayed quiet. Being younger than Lizzie felt, in this moment, better than being older, but it still felt wrong. The less attention she drew to the discrepancy, the better.

Sophia frowned. “I’m not boring. I’m just practical!”

“Well, this place isn’t,” said Lizzie, as if that settled things.

And, in a way, it did.

WIP Game

#am writing #thank you!!! #ask game

[ilajayking]

Found this thing I wrote last year

I wrote the following article last year and never did anything with it. As we are surpassing three years since the shutdown due to Covid, I wanted to at least post it somewhere. It was just me rambling about my thoughts, but maybe it will resonate with someone, or maybe it will provide insight to other generations:

Gen Z is not okay.

As we come upon two years since the world shut down due to the Covid-19 Pandemic, I’ve been reflecting on everything we as a society have lost. Beloved family members, friends, jobs, high school graduations, normality; all of this gone in what felt like a quick twenty-four hours. We lost key parts of our lives, yet, we’ve been expected to carry on so we can get back to normal. With mask mandates being lifted and Covid numbers decreasing, it seems this “normal” is slowly returning. So what are we bringing with it that we didn’t have before?

When you lose something, you grieve. Most of the time, you are given ample opportunity to go through the stages of loss, and the resources to help you cope with everything you are experiencing. When the pandemic hit, we as a society lost the control we thought we had over our lives. The mechanical way of life we had been living for so long was shut off abruptly, and it left us with no sense of when it would turn back on. We watched as we were told that all we had to do was stay home, and this would all magically go away. We listened as we were informed that wearing a mask protects the virus from being transmitted. We waited fourteen days to flatten the curve and for the madness to be over. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, months turned into a year, and we waited for something to come and take this all away.

We have been left with a broken generation. And we are not okay.

We have sat around for two years and watched all of this madness go down. We have watched our parents, grandparents, siblings, classmates, and neighbors die. We have watched our country divide and tear each other apart. We’ve seen racial injustice and discrimination and continued police brutality. We are suffering from mental illness in numbers that we haven't seen before. We’ve seen an increase in hate. Hate for ourselves, hate for what is happening around us, and hate against people who are different ethnically, politically, and socially, and we’re angry. We are still children, yet we have been forced to grow up because the world needed us to; We weren’t ready. We were never given time to grieve our childhoods that we’ve had to abruptly leave behind; we didn’t even have time to grieve our future, and it didn’t seem like we were allowed to because at least we were alive. But two years later, we’re bringing all of our new baggage with us as we try to return to the lives we so abruptly left behind.

I was a Junior in high school when the pandemic hit. I went into my last year of high school in the fall of 2020 not knowing if we would even get through the first two weeks. I was in person every other day with half of my classmates, I lost friends because I was too scared if I went out I would get Covid and give it to my family, and I applied to college with no guidance, and no ability to know if I would like the school because I couldn’t tour it. I had to go permanently online school because I would cry myself to sleep thinking about all I was missing. I felt selfish every time I would get upset like that, because with all of the terrible things going on in the world, why should I be so upset about losing parts of my life? At least I was alive, and at least I was healthy, and at least I was privileged enough to still have all of the same opportunities.

This mentality needs to end, and the next step as we come out of this pandemic needs to be a focus on the mental health crisis at hand. We need to be able to realize the privilege we have, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to recognize that we have lost things these past two years too. As Gen Z continues to grow up, we need the proper resources to deal with the stress and trauma that the last two years have brought on. The phrase “unprecedented times” was something we all heard during this pandemic, yet we still look at dealing with these issues the same way we did before. We are all different people now than we were two years ago, and we can't respond to these unprecedented situations with precedented methods. As the conversation around mental health gets more serious, we need to continue to work on ending the stigma surrounding it. Normalizing therapy, medications, rehabilitation, mental health days, and even just reaching out to friends and family; all of these things help in taking care of our overall health and wellness. I want to stop hearing a new story about another suicide every week, so if we want to get back to normal, we need to address this problem now. If we validate the feelings of those struggling and erase the stigma around Mental Health, maybe we can start to heal.

#mental health #covid #gen z #mental heath awareness #mental heath support #reflection #gen z experience #self help #self healing

[aingealcethlenn]

DA Chapter 1

Masterlist

Clint arrived home in his S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform after having just returned from his latest mission. He entered the pitch-black house with his quiver on his back and bow in hand. As he crossed the threshold, he felt something was off. Someone was inside his home. He couldn't see them or hear anything, but he knew they were there.

He stood stock-still for several seconds as he tried to figure out just where in the house the intruder may be. Clint didn't appreciate feeling so vulnerable in his own home. He took a deep breath in through his nose, trying to clear his head and focus.

"I know you're in here," he called out to the darkness. Clint waited, listening intently for any sign of life, only to be met with silence. No footsteps, no breathing, nothing. As Clint slowly walked farther into the home, he caught a hint of movement out of his peripheral on his right side. Without hesitation, he reached back with his left hand, grabbed an arrow from his quiver, and fired into the shadows.

The stranger sidestepped the projectile with ease, causing it to lodge in the wall behind them. "You're losing your touch, Hawk."

"I missed? I never miss. I can’t miss," he mumbled to himself, though he never took his eyes from the direction the voice had come from.

"Well, you almost never miss," the stranger quipped.

"How... I... Who are you?" he asked, struggling to make sense of this situation.

"Who am I? The ‘archer who never misses’ can't even remember the one person that can avoid his arrow," the stranger said as they began to step further into the living room.

Clint could now see a faint outline of their form as the person moved into more light. He could make out that they were wearing a black cloak as the edges fluttered softly as the stranger continued to step closer to him. They lowered their hood, and Clint's eyes grew wide at what he saw. A mix of shock, disbelief, and horror flashed across his face before finally settling on apprehension and confusion.

She was beautiful. Her pale face was framed by flowing blonde hair that fell past her shoulders. Her green eyes looked deep into Clint's soul. She was dressed all in black with gold accents. She was gorgeous and yet, dangerous.

"It's been a while, Hawk," she stated, her voice echoing around the quiet room.

"How did you find me?" Clint asked, not moving his gaze from hers.

"All these years... and you're still as predictable as the moon," she said matter of factly.

Her comment caused Clint to scoff. He turned away from her and walked towards the kitchen, flipping the light switch on as he entered. He took the quiver from his back, placing it on a small table along with his bow. "What do you want, Harper Lee?"

She followed him, closing the distance between them. His senses still heightened as she drew closer, and his heart rate increased. He never knew what to expect from her.

"Is this really how it's going to be?” she questioned in the same monotone voice. “What is so wrong with a sister visiting her favorite brother?"

"I'm your only brother," Clint pointed out.

"Exactly," she stated with a smirk. "Which also makes you my favorite.”

"Harp-"

She cut him off. "Do you think that maybe…” she began as she leaned against the table, “After all this time, you could give me the benefit of the doubt?"

Clint rolled his eyes. "Don't get smart with me," he retorted, glaring at her. "We both know that this is a ruse."

"Maybe it is... Maybe it isn't," she shrugged.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. The two siblings stared at each other in silence for several minutes, the tension between them becoming unbearable. Eventually, Clint broke eye contact. "Fine," he conceded, turning on his heel to walk back into the living room.

Harper followed suit, taking off her cloak and draping it over the back of the couch before taking a seat. Clint sat down on a second sofa opposite his sister. They looked at each other for a few moments, silently debating what to say next. Finally, Harper cleared her throat. "So... How, uh, how's Natasha?"

"Really?" Clint asked sarcastically.

"What do you want from me, Hawk?" she snapped.

"I don't know! But some bullshit small talk isn't it!" he fired back. Harper rolled her eyes in response, causing the siblings to sit in silence once again.

Just as Clint was about to say something to break the awkwardness, his phone went off in his pocket. Pulling it out and seeing the name on the screen, he motioned for his sister to stay quiet.

"Hey," he answered.

"Hey, I know you left for the day, but I have some paperwork I need you to look over. Are you home yet?"

"Uh, now's not a good time, Nat. I have some... some unexpected company," he told her.

"Company? Are you okay?" Natasha asked, rightfully concerned.

"Yeah. It's fine. Just not a good time," Clint tried to assure her.

"Who's there?" Nat pressed.

"Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. I just have some company,” he repeated, trying to end the call quickly before Natasha could try to get anything from him. “I'll be at the compound tomorrow. We can talk then."

"Yeah, alright," she agreed.

Clint hung up his phone, setting it aside and turning his attention back to his sister. "So, are you going to tell me why you're here? Or am I just supposed to play into your game like always?"

"Why does it always have to be a fight when we see each other?"

"Because every time we see each other, you have some ulterior motive for being there," Clint complained. “Hell, you even managed to ruin my wedding day.”

"In my defense, she wasn’t right for you, Hawk. Besides, that's not even true," she replied defensively. "The last time we-"

"The last time we saw each other, you shot me, Harley!" he yelled, "Why do you think we haven't seen each other in years? Huh? And now you show up, unannounced, breaking into my house, and you can't even tell me why you're here.”

Harper stayed silent, his tone making it clear that it wasn’t worth her time to try to talk. She stood up, grabbed her cloak, and began walking toward the front door of the home. "You know, you're right, Clint. I shouldn't have come. I don't know what I was thinking or what I had hoped it would accomplish." Harper reached for the handle, turning it slightly and opening the door. "See you later, Hawk," she said quietly before leaving the house.

The events of the night before still played through Barton's mind as he arrived at the compound the following day. Why had his sister made an appearance? And why now?

Natasha had wasted no time tracking Clint down, finding him in one of the training rooms with his quiver and bow. "So... how was your company last night?" she inquired.

"What?" Clint asked in response, not catching onto Natasha's meaning.

"Your... ‘company’?" she clarified.

Clint glanced up at her as if she had just spoken in a foreign language. "Oh. That," Clint replied, finally realizing what she was hinting at. He shifted uncomfortably in his spot as he thought back to the incident. "Nothing too exciting." Natasha raised her eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. He cleared his throat before continuing, "It was just an old friend, Nat. That's all."

Natasha looked confused by his statement. She tilted her head to the side, asking, "What do you mean an 'old friend'?"

"It's no one to worry about. I got it handled."

"If you have it handled, what's that?" she pointed to the target at the other end of the room.

Clint turned to glance at it momentarily. "Just shooting practice," he responded casually.

"Shooting practice?" Natasha repeated skeptically. "You don't miss, Clint. What do you need to practice for?"

"I appreciate the concern, Natasha, but you're not going to get what you're looking for," he scoffed.

"Whatever you say, Barton," Natasha muttered as she turned to leave. "By the way," she added, calling over her shoulder, "You missed the center." She smirked as she shut the door behind her.

Clint remained standing there until he heard the sound of the elevator across the hall opening. He walked over to the target to retrieve the arrows he had shot and noticed that he had indeed missed his mark. Just barely, but it was still off. He sighed deeply, running his hand down his face. I can’t miss. If I miss, it means I’m just another dude with a bow. It means I’ve been fooling myself this whole time. I can’t miss. Why do I let her get to me like this?

Chapter 2 – Masterlist – Taglist @lostinwonderland314​

#MCU #mcu cast #mcu fandom #MCU fic #MCU fanfiction #mcu family #marvel #Marvel Universe #MARVEL FANDOM #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic series #clint barton #Clint Barton sister #female original character #marvel original character

[kat-holden]

Conversations with Death Part 1

I sat in the soft grass. Green blades tickled my feet as the emerald sea swayed in the wind, outstretching until the end of the world. On the horizon, among the boughs of ancient trees framing my view like majestic curtains, the azure of the mid-morning sky touched the sparkling fields. A gust of wind picked a few strands of my hair and they flew into my eyes. Mindlessly, I tucked them away behind my ear as my eyes glided along the words on the page. Scents of wild flowers, wet earth and an old, musty book swirled in my nose. Above me, through the thick branches of the oak, the sun peaked through. Small light spots danced all around me, sparkling with the morning dew. Spring birds chirped away and off in the distance, faintly, I could hear the rush of the river and the voices of people taking a walk alongside it. Horse hooves and cart wheels made their never-ending journey on the paved road. The creaks and cracks of wood were so out of place among the serenity of my existence.

The page crackled with age as I turned it. Fingers gentle, for it felt like it would disintegrate in my hands. I fully knew sitting in the wet grass would ruin my dress, leaving big, green spots all over it. Dear mother will lose her marbles, but I cared not. The proprieties of social life and etiquette did not interest me. I ran away, as I always did. A few “hellos” and a “hahaha” and a few “nice to meet yous”. When my hand was shaken a million times and my cheeks squeezed red or sloppily kissed by toothless relatives, I ran. No looking back, no request to be dismissed. I kicked off my shoes, unbuttoned my jacket, and untied my frock. They all probably lay strewn about in the fields. And in my white underdress, I sat beneath my oak tree. Back against it, feeling the coarse bark gently caressing my skin. My old and only friend. It kept all my secrets, whispered with trembling lips, hiding my books of blood and thunder not made for the gentle mind. 

A page after glorious page of love, death and revenge made my eyelids heavy. Every blink felt like an invitation to keep them closed. As I fought the sands of sleep, maybe because I was already drifting away in a dream, I noticed that the world became devoid of sounds. The birds suddenly became quiet, the river as if dried out and the wind died like it never existed. Silence fell upon my tiny piece of heaven. A few feet away in the tall grass stood a girl. Not more than eight or nine years old. No words spoken, just her tiny hand waving at me, flickering in the sunlight like a white butterfly. And from that gentle wave, the gesture turned into a beckoning one, asking me to come closer. I put the book in my lap and squinted. I couldn’t make out her features, for she was too far away.

Tucking away my book in the tree’s hollow, I propped myself up and absentmindedly wiped my hands on my white underdress. “Who in the world could that be?” I wondered as I walked from underneath the shade and into the morning light. Feet and hem of my dress were soaked and tinted green, but I paid no notice. “Who…who is that?” I kept muttering to myself as I walked the distance slowly, hand shielding my eyes from the sun, hoping to recognize the child as some far-removed cousin here to spoil my solitude with demands of my return, no doubt issued by mother. The light, as if lost its intensity and colours drained around me. The view donned a dull and diluted color scheme, making everything around me drab and depressing. All that increased in intensity as a made my way towards the little girl.   

[awitchnamedkai]

Come on, skinny love, just last the year

This was not how it was supposed to go. He got too cocky, Elijah knew he should have waited for Magnus and Corvus. But even though he still had powers, he was still new to them. Like a baby taking its first steps. And while he did have some armor, it was nowhere near as good as ceramite and the cultists had no lasguns, but the bullets still fucking hurt. Elijah coughed, blood trickling out of his nose and mouth as he leaned on the wall still gripping his rifle. “Fuck..this is bad” he mumbled. He let his back hit the wall and slid down it. Digging through his pack he tried to find his first aid kid, something to stop the bleeding until he could return to camp. No matter what Magnus and Corvus could not see him like this. These wounds required him to take his shirt off and they did know yet - couldn’t know. He wasn't going to take the risk. While banding his wounds, his vox jumped to life and a voice came over. “Elijah” It spoke, fuck it was Corvus “Elijah we are at the rendezvous, where are you?”

Elijah could hear the slight panic in his voice. “Sorry, got held up '' Elijah said, shoving gause into the bullet wounds and slowly standing up, trying not to pass out. He adjusted his large coat to cover the wound, Luckily the bullet didn't go through his coat so he could hide it, for now. “I'm almost there, less than five mikes out, '' he huffed, slinging the rifle over his shoulder and starting to walk north, limping all the way. “Where are you,” Said Corvus over the vox “We can meet you -” “No!” Elijah shouted all too quickly “No - everything is fine I'm almost there..!” Elijah quickened his pace, moving through the city streets. “Be safe” Corvus spoke one last time, The click of the vox shutting off made Elijah sigh. 

Eventually, Elijah rounded a corner and saw the large frame of Magnus and Corvus. Magnus was talking to some of his sons via vox, with Corvus nearby listening in. Elijah let out a soft sigh of relief, and Corvus must have heard him because he turned around to greet him. “Elijah... Are you alright?” He asked softly, glancing over his form. “I'm fine Cor,” Elijah said with a slight smile, he hated lying but he was too scared of them finding out. He wouldn't risk losing them. “Nothing I can't handle.” A large hand came to rest on his shoulder, its weight was comforting to him. A very small smile appeared on Corvus's face as he made eye contact with Elijah. He went to say something before Magnus appeared behind him. “Love, there you are,” He said looking at Elijah, “Corvus said you got held up, you are not hurt, are you? I can get an apothecary -” Elijah cut him off “Mag, I’m fine” he said with a huff “I may be smaller than you guys, but I’m not entirely human too, remember?” Magnus sighed, giving him a look almost like he knew something was off. But Magnus did not press any further. “We need to keep moving,” Corvus said, turning his back and starting to walk north deeper into the city “We are almost at the LZ and I’d rather not stay here longer than we must.”

Elijah fixed his bag and stifled a groan of pain, the pain of the bullet wounds starting to increase. “Yeah... It's only a few more miles right?” He said softly. He walked past Magnus, catching a look that Magnus gave Corvus. Did they know? Magnus never read his mind without asking first but what if he did? No, he wouldn't, Magnus said he wouldn’t so Elijah just had to trust that he would keep his promise. Elijah took up the back, as Magnus and Corvus walked ahead. Tiredness started to creep into Elijah's bones, but he could press forward.

The walk was getting harder and harder, and Elijah could feel his pain get worse and worse. He needed medical help soon but Emperor dammit he was gonna do it himself. Elijah was trans, and he knew how in his world most humans reacted to it. He hadn't told Magnus or Corvus yet and was somewhat scared too. He loved them dearly and would not risk losing them… what if they hated him because of it? These thoughts were running through his head, the blood loss was getting to him. Elijah was tired, very tired. He stumbled and fell into a wall muttering some curses under his breath. Corvus stopped and looked back, quickly rushing to his side “Elijah what's wrong?” He asked hand stopping just inches from his form almost like he was scared to touch him like he’d break. “Nothing, im...Fine” he huffed out, his chest tight with pain and anxiety. “Eli” Magnus noticed something “You’re…bleeding?!” He asked in shock, pointing to the blood now seeping through his leather coat “Fuck… Look im fine guys, it’s okay” Elijah tried to speak coughing slightly. He tried to walk again, but his legs gave out. Bracing himself to hit the floor a pair of arms caught him before he fell to the ground. Corvus and Magnus leaned him against the wall and sat him down, Elijah was griping his side in pain. “Guys'm okay… im-” He was cut off by Magnus “I knew something was wrong,” He said breathlessly. “We need to deal with this before it gets worse” Magnus reached towards his jacket, pushing it aside and trying to slide it down his shoulders. “WOAH - hey wait-” Elijah pressed himself further into the wall behind him trying to get away from Magnus’s hands. “Eli it's okay - “ Corvus began trying to calm him down “Wait I can-” Elijah spoke trying to bat Magnus’s hands away. “Guys please wait..!” Elijah yelled, partially in pain and in fear “Elijah what is wrong?” Magnus said trying to steady him. Elijah was panting and shaking and he was about to pass out. “Guys’m fine, Please, wait..!” Magnus and Corvus were talking to him, but it was just a ringing blur of sound. His eyelids grew heavy, and he tried to fight it as much as he could, but it was too much for him to handle, eventually, he slumped to the side, and one of them caught him and held him gently. “I don't… don’t want you to hate me too…” he mumbled letting the pain and darkness overtake him.

A soft beeping filled his ears first, then a low hum. Elijah groaned in pain, and then slowly opened his eyes. At first, it was bright and blurry, and Elijah slowly realized there were three figures. Two were massive, one red like the sun and the other black like darkness. It looked like they were talking to a smaller figure, maybe a human. But he couldn't tell, his head was pounding. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, their outlines still blurry. Elijah attempted to try to sit up, only to shout out in pain and he gripped his chest where he was shot. He hissed through gritted teeth still trying to sit up. The figures, which he now realized were Magnus and Corvus talking to an apothecary, turned around at the sound. “Elijah..!” they both said, rushing to his side. “You must sit back down,” Magnus said, putting a soft hand on his shoulder and trying to gently push him back. Corvus set a hand on his leg trying to comfort him. “Im-Im fine” Elijah spoke through gritted teeth. “Elijah… You need to rest” Corvus said gently squeezing his leg and setting a hand on his other shoulder Finally with both of them he let them push him back to the bed. But anxiety was eating him Elijah, his heart rate jumping up. He was terrified, they must know now, his secret that he was trans. They must have sensed his fears and attempted to comfort him. “Elijah…” Corvus spoke softly, but Elijah would not look at them. “Elijah..please look at us…” Elijah just closed his eyes, breaths coming out in puffs almost like he was hyperventilating, He lowered his head until a very soft hand came under his chin and lifted his head, a thumb stoked his cheek softly. Finally, Elijah opened his eyes and looked to Magnus, then slowly to Corvus. “Why…why are you so scared?” Corvus asked softly and gently, as if he spoke too loud it would shatter Elijah like glass. “Did we do something wrong? You know we would never hurt you,” Magnus spoke next squeezing his shoulder softly. “Im sorry…” Elijah spoke, “I didn’t mean to lie to you, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear!” He said looking between them. “ Then why didn’t you tell us?” he said“ You know we love you no matter what, Elijah but why did you hide this? Elijah squeezed his eyes shut again tightly. Scared to speak, he swallowed hard and then opened his mouth. “Be-Because where im from, my earth or uh, terra, It's not widely accepted..” He said sadly opening his eyes as a single tear cascaded down his cheek. “I was often outcast, bullied, and…assaulted for being… Me, I was hated and never seen as a man, a real man…” Elijah said holding back more tears. Shock crossed the features of Corvus and Magnus, surprised that there could be people like this, that this..madness had happened to someone they care and love. “Im… Im sorry Elijah, my love, Im so sorry this happened to you…” Corvus said, kneeling to be as close to eye level as he could be. “That is why you were scared, you didn’t know how we would react so therefore you hid it from us…” He said, rubbing his cheek again and raising his head to look at him. “But I love you, we, love you. For you.” He said softly smiling, Elijah softly smiled too looking between the two of his lovers. “No matter what anyone else says, you are a man. You are more of a man than most.” Elijah let out a soft huff, smiling a little stronger at the comment. “You are strong, Fearless, brave and kind. All the qualities of a good man.” Elijah sighed softly and rolled his eyes. “Thank you, my loves, I mean it… For patching me up…again… and-and for loving me, as me and I really am…” he reached up and rested one hand on Corvus’s and Magnus’s faces and softly caressed them. “Thank you” He said, with a real smile.

#ftm #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #fic #ftm coming out fic #coming out #magnus the red #corvus corax #injury #injury fic #fanfiction #canon x oc x canon

[letterstotheditor]

the way we broke up

“You’re not happy.” Bullshit. This wasn’t about her; that much was obvious. She reached over and took up the towel slowly, twisting it once in a show of drying her hands to buy any second that she could before she had to turn around and acknowledge what was happening. Finally, she spun around slowly and placed her hands on the counter behind her, gripping into the concrete edge to release the frustration bubbling up inside. “You don’t mean that.” “Yes, I do.” “No, you really don’t. You mean that you’re not happy, but it’s easier to make this about me.” His eyes flashed once and then fell into a flat, glazed stare. She was losing him. It was happening the way it always did and always had, comfort taking the place of care and connection for both of them; avoidance becoming the paramount concern. She wasn’t sure she even cared anymore. She just didn’t want to have to look at him like this, pitiful and quiet and still completely and utterly self-absorbed. Such bullshit. “Tex, I don’t want to do this. I’m tired.” “You somehow always are when these things happen.” A flood of regret as the biting remark flew out of her mouth. “Sorry, I don’t know why—” Every muscle in her stomach felt tense as though ready to receive a direct hit. She tried to relax her body, use the conscious effort as both a physical and emotional release. Instead, her heart rate only increased as the silence grew and he continued to stare at the floor. Seconds passed, and then minutes. “So this is it, huh? I’ve been asking you for years to hear me when I said things weren’t good, but you were never interested in doing the work. You just drank and slept off the discomfort.” Things were coming up now that she’d avoided saying for years, knowing that they weren’t constructive and would only stunt any conversation, but in the moment she didn’t feel capable of stopping herself. This was her last chance, it might really be over this time, and she wanted—needed—him to know that she saw through it all. Deep down, though, she knew it was a sham, that everything she was saying was for her. He was already gone, and nothing she said would land. The words just felt good to get out. This had always been their problem. They wanted to care about the other but ultimately didn’t know how to, didn’t know how to react in any healthy way. They never wanted the same thing at the same time, and it was coming to a head now, this relay race of a relationship. In a way, they had given it their all, were completely winded, muscles and lungs burning as they arrived at the finish line—although not, of course, at the same time. She had checked out months ago, given herself over to fantasizing about her freedom, even though she knew her captivity was a self-built cage.

Later that night, Carey came into the living room and sat for a long time in the yellow chair across from where she was seated. She could feel his eyes on her but refused to look up to meet them. Eventually, he spoke, and forced her hand. “What would you have done differently in our relationship, if you could go back in time?” It was the final olive branch, the last one that would ever be offered. She felt the last shred of her compassion splinter and prick at her heart as she realized that she just didn’t have the answer he was looking for. He wanted to hear that she would have been softer, would have tamed her temper more or tried to hear in his silence the insecurity he was projecting rather than just the apathy she felt radiating from it. But she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t say those words because she didn’t mean them. She wished she meant them. She wished desperately that she could recognize those things as the necessary steps that he clearly saw them as. She wanted to care. But she couldn’t lie, so she said the one thing that felt real and the only thing she knew to be true. “I would have left sooner.” Silence. The endless, hateful silence. “I would have taken you at your word when you told me you didn’t love me four years ago. I kept thinking there were changes we could make so I kept coming back, but I’m all out of ideas now, so if you want this to be over, then, okay. I think it might actually stick this time.”

[lcandothisallday]

since jack is back home atm and you two would be catching up, like having a deep conversation with him and his whole entire focus is just on you. maybe sometime he tucks hair behind your ear when a wind blows while you’re talking UGHEJRJF those little physical contacts 😍😮‍💨

Fireworks - Jack Harlow x f!reader

You had known Jack ever since you moved to Lousville in highschool. Somehow the both of you had remained extremely close friends since then, despite you being two years younger than him.

When Jack left to Atlanta and you left for college, you managed to stay in touch the entire time but you always remained just friends. Of course part of you always wished it had turned into something more but it was never the right time.

You were lucky enough that you finished your semester before the Kentucky derby, allowing you to be back in Lousville for the festivities. Jack too had gone home especially for it which made it the perfect time to catch up with him.

You leaned against the railing of the bridge with an amused smile as you looked up at Jack who grinned down at you. “I feel like it’s been a lifetime since I last saw you,” he sighed, his arms holding onto the railing on either side of your body trapping you.

You scoff playfully, “you’re the one who’s travelling the world and playing shows,” you point out. “Speaking of-congrats on first class. It’s huge.”

Jack smiled and thanked you before his hand came up to tuck a lose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t wanna talk about me,” he said shaking his head. “I wanna talk about you.”

“What’s there to say? My life is so boring,” you frown. Jack shrugged, “doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear about it,” he pointed out.

You lick your lips as you stare up at him intently. He had become so handsome, especially with the way he was looking at you, it made your cheeks heat up and your heart to flutter.

“Are you ready to graduate?” he asked you, genuinely interested in what you had to say. You shake your head almost immediately. “Not at all,” you admit. “I-I feel like I have no idea what I even want to do anymore,” you chuckle. “Not everyone can say they knew what they wanted to do since they were 12 like you.”

“You know you’ve got the rest of your life to try out anything you want,” Jack reasoned which only caused you to sigh. “With what money, Jack? I got student debt,” you groan, your head falling forward to rest against his chest. “My life just goes downhill from here.”

Jack bit his lip, “you know,” he began, his hands moving from the rails to your hips, rubbing them slowly. “This summer I’m playing shows all over…come with me?” he suggested. “I’ll pay for everything and that means you’d get to travel a bit and spend time with me before you gotta start working,” he breathed out.

Your eyes widened, “Jack I-I couldn’t,” you say, shaking your head.

“I want you to come though,” Jack said softly. You glance up at him with such loving eyes as you nod reluctantly. “Okay,” you confirm, your fingers lingering over his before he firmly grasped onto yours and intentionally intertwined your fingers together.

Jack leaned in close, smirking as he inched closer and closer to your lips before he brushed past them to whisper into your ears. “The firework show is about to start,” he mused cockily, grasping onto your waist and spinning you around to look at the water and the large bridge ahead.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as your heart rate increases and the butterflies in your stomach erupt. The front side of his body pressed firmly against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder while his arms wrap around your torso.

When the first batch of fireworks went off, it was sort of abrupt and caused you to jump. Jack laughed softly and rubbed your stomach in reassurance as the two of you continued to watch the beautiful sparks of colour in the sky.

“Oh wow-look at that one,” you hum, pointing at a particularly pretty one that went off. “It’s so pretty.”

Jack brought his lips closer to your ears once more as he spoke his next words, “I can think of something prettier,” he hummed, causing your cheeks to heat up.

Feeling a stare his way, Jack turns his head to the side and sees his mom observing the two of you with a faint smile. This only causes Jack to grin and wrap his arms tighter around you. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck before he looked straight ahead again and continued to watch the show with you.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow blurbs #jack harlow request #jackharlow