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romanarose · 1 year

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You Are Not Alone

fem!Reader x The Moon Boys

Summary: After a halfhearted attempt, you check yourself into the hospital for a stay in the psychiatric unit, and as always, your boys are there to help you.

WARNINGS: Suicide attempt (not shown), self-harm (not shown just talked about), blood mentions, depression, bulimia, eating disorders, food mentions and eating is shown, some self-ableist language from Marc and reader (marc calling himself crazy, reader saying she didn't 'do' and eating disorder right). neither of these are correct, but sometimes mentally ill (including myself) have these thoughts. Marc is kinda anti-treatment. not like, completely but he's hesitant, got trauma from the duat. shitty medical professionals, so much fucking crying, sex jokes, dark humor, mentions of rough sex/ass eating in joking context. If I missed anything lmk.

a/n: In my head Marc is a secret Star Wars nerd and I only have one single piece of evidence for this, but it's my Marc Spector and he and I are the same so I'll make him however I want to

*******************

“Hey baby” Marc gently nudged you as you slept on his lap. “They got a room for you.”

You stir, forgetting for a moment where you were. The white room, bright lights and exam bed confused you until you remember. God, what time was it? How long had you been out? You remember falling asleep on Marc’s shoulder as the ER room you were in tried to find you a bed to stay in on your mandatory hold. You look up at Marc’s tired, sad face, and knew he must’ve moved you, staying up while you slept on him, and you felt the pang of guilt you had been feeling in different forms all month. Of course he was tired, dumbass, you woke him up at 1 am halfway through an half-hearted attempt at suicide.

The panic on his face was seared into the back of your head, as were his frantic rambling of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ ‘Show me everywhereyou hurt yourself’ and ‘Baby, why?’ That he didn’t really give you a chance to answer. You simply stood there crying as he took care of you, wrapping you up in a few bandages, a few more than probably necessarily, telling him you were sorry, over and over and over until Jake took Marc’s panicking body to hold you, steady you. Steven insisted on the hospital stay. They had all noticed you spiraling lately, and had tried to help; picking up your slack on the cleaning and cooking, dragging you outside to get air, showering you in affection, but it didn’t help, as much as you were grateful. Steven packed a bag as you silently continued crying as you laid on the bed. Your favorite squishmellow, lots of fuzzy socks since your feet get cold, baby Yoda pj bottoms (with the drawstring taken out), and Carrie by Stephan King, which he did not look at but was the first book he grabbed.

They had taken you into the ER, helping you filling out the paper worker and telling you how proud they were of you for coming to them for help, Steven a bit more frantic and rambling, and Marc quieter than usual but you couldn’t stop feeling bad. Were you just being dramatic? Over reacting? You had barely done anything, you could’ve just wrapped yourself up and stuck to long sleeves for a while. You thought about the first time you tried. Highschool, in the bathtub, listening to a P!nk album on the CD player. It didn’t work. You had just sat there, waiting… waiting… waiting… and it didn’t work. You hadn’t done enough. But by that point, you were just exhausted, too exhausted to make a second go of things. So you cleaned up, and walked out into the living room like nothing happened, and watched Community with your mom and brother. You had felt rather stupid then, as you did now.

“Baby?” Marc started, as you didn’t reply to him. “Are you…” he almost said ‘are you okay?’ but considering where you were, the answer was pretty obvious.

You get up, looking at the EMT’s, then back at Marc confused.

He clarified for you. “They have to take you in the ambulance, it’s just procedure”

“Oh… can you come with me?”

He looked at the EMT’s and got his answer brushing your messy hair down. “‘fraid not, honey. But we’ll be in first thing visiting hours okay?”

You are suddenly very nervous, very tired, and very overwhelmed. You want to be asleep in your own bed, with Marc holding you. “Marc” You mumble, turning into him. “I wanna go home”

You hear Jake’s calm, assured voice. “I know, bebita. But I think this is what you need right now. We’ll get you the help you need, you just need to rest for a bit, okay? We’ll call your work, take care of everything.” He sounded to sure, you trusted your Jake.

You nod, too tired to fight it “Okay”

Marc held your hand as you sat on the stretcher, feeling ridiculous, but you had convinced them you didn’t need to be restrained, thank god. When you got to the ambulance, one got in the drivers seat and the other took a few steps back to allow you a moment. Marc held your head, his beautiful brown eyes shining at you as he tried to smile and hold back tears. “It’s gonna be alright. Do whatever they need you to do here, and you’ll be out in a few days, a brand new start, okay”

“You’re gonna visit me, right?”

Marc looked a little broken when he heard that. “Baby, of course we’re gonna visit, we’d never leave you alone like this, ever”

“It’s just… when I went in college… no one visited me, the whole time…”

He cradled you close to his chest, the EMT motioning they needed to get going. “That was before. You have us now, and you’ll never be alone.”

But riding in the ambulance, checking into the bright hospital, having the sympathetic nurse checking you for weapons or other injuries… you hadn’t felt so alone in a long time.

Marc was not thrilled about Steven insisting on the hospital. He had never liked hospitals much, and after his time in the duat, the thoughts he had of psychiatric hospitals weren’t great. Steven had to tell him again and again, the duat was not in a real psych ward, real psych wards aren’t like that. ‘Frankly mate, I’m not entirely sure psych ward is politically correct anymore’. Marc insisted they were all you needed, he didn’t want to leave you alone, and he certainly didn’t think these people knew better about taking care of you than he did, and he told you as such when he visited.

“Places like this are meant for people a lot worse off than you.” He grumbled, holding you on the bed you in a room you thankfully got alone.

Idiota, that’s not what you’re suppuosed to say!

Marc, please, places like this can help a lot of people, at least allow her to try.

“I’m sorry” You mumble, still tired from the previous night, where they had woken you up to take a blood sample and you had fallen back asleep with the needle in your arm. You start crying again, something you had done on and off all day.

Marc quickly realized his mistake, holding you tighter and turning you to him. “No, no baby I don’t mean it like that, it’s not a bother, it’s just… these places are for crazy people, like me”

Your eyes widen at that, face drastically changing to serious. “Marc, stop that, you know I don’t like you talking about yourself like that” You may be a mess, but you will not stand for your precious boyfriend to call himself names. “You are not crazy”

Marc wouldn’t let up. “If they heard me talking to Jake and Steven, they’d throw me in a straight jacket and toss me on that empty bed” He smiled, trying to joke.

“No” You shake your head. “Don’t talk like that, I mean it. Other people might think that, but that’s because they don’t get it. I know you, and I know Jake and Steven, and none of you are crazy, so please stop saying that.” You pleaded with him.

His face softened, kissing you on the forehead. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

You nuzzle into his chest. “And straitjacket, Marc? What is this, American Horror Story: Asylum? I don’t think they use those anymore” But you’re smiling now.

“Of course, how silly of me.” He laid with you for a while, just to take you in. He missed you.

“It’s probably a good thing I’m here” You say quietly, and he looks at you again. “I’ve been thinking about doing it all day.”

When it was Steven’s turn, your favorite nurse printed out some free Star Wars coloring pages for you and Steven to color on.

“I feel like a child” You say, but you're secretly enjoying yourself.

“Healing your inner child, that’s what they say, innit?” Steven was very very carefully drawing Luke Skywalker on Dagobah.

“I don’t think it’s my inner child that needs healing, I think it’s my inner teen. I had a fun childhood, even if it was a bit crazy. I never really got to be a teen”

“Well love, if you want to be a crazy teenager, we can go drink vodka in a corn field if that will make you happy”

You laugh, remembering the stories your classmates would beguile you with on Monday mornings, wishing that was you. “Sounds good darling. I’ll call my friend next time we visit, she’ll be happy to let us live out my teenage dream on her farm.”

“Think she’ll let us have a quickie in her tractor?” Steven smiles cheekily at you.

“Steven!” You giggle, wondering if anyone heard you. “And the answer is gonna be no.” you lean to him over the table “but we don’t have to tell her”

Steven holds up his drawing "I'm making it for Marc, think he'll like it?"

You giggle, holding up yours "Oh my god baby, im making mine for Marc too!"

Jake laid on the bed with you, reading Carrie, she was just going batshit on the prom night. “Dios mio princessa” He checked the cover “This is what Steven packed you to read? You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“Keep going!”

“I’ll bring you a new book tomorrow, something more appropriate” he grumbled, before finding the page again.

“Honey, most of my books are depressing YA John Green books, Steven King, or depressing adult books, none of them are fitting”

“The Handmaid’s Tale?”

“Literally about government sanctioned sex slaves”

“Count of Monte Christo?”

“Baby that books depressing as hell”

“The Fault in Our Stars?”

“Jake!” You laugh. “How can you even say that, I made you watch that movie with me!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “You know I feel asleep half way through”

“He dies in the end!”

“Can’t you just… read up until that part?”

You rest your head on Jake’s chest. “No, now read to me about the mass murder of a bunch of high schoolers to relax me”

You felt Jake chuckle, but he continued.

Due to covid regulations, visiting hours were shorter than usual, and they had to leave before diner time. “We’ll be back tomorrow, I promise. Same time.” Marc swore.

“And you’ll call tonight?”

“Of course. Make sure to call the numbers we gave you, if you’re feeling up to it.” Marc had been put in charge of letting your mom, brother, Layla, and a few close friends know. Everyone, unfortunately, lived in different parts of the county, but they wanted to talk during your stay so he wrote down the phone numbers if you wanted to call.

“Thank you, baby“ But you stayed wrapped around his chest. You couldn’t help but feel you were disappointing him still by being in here.

“Love, we have to go, you call us any time you want to talk, okay?” Steven assured you.

Slowly, you pull off of them. “Okay.”

You get a phone from the nurse and call him as soon as the door closes. An The Office marathon was on ABC, so Jake turned the channel on the home TV to ABC. You didn’t talk, simply laying the phone beside you as you watched, knowing they were there “watching” with you.

“I think my psychiatrist thinks I’m lazy” You say the next day as Marc rubs your back.

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. “What do you mean?”

“Baaaabbbeeeee don’t stop that”

Marc couldn’t help chuckle, continuing his back rub. “Okay, now continue”

“Well, the first morning here, it was like 9 when he woke me up and he said ‘you’re still asleep’ all judgy”

Frown deepening, Marc fought the urge to march up to the desk and cause a scene like a helicopter parent. “You got in there at, what, 4 am?”

You nod. “And he did it again this morning. I just said ‘Oh, I’m sorry, do I have somewhere to be?’”

Despite his annoyance with your psych, he laughed. “Good one, sweetheart”

You smile “not my best work. I’ll come up with something better in a few days and call back”

“I’ll help you brainstorm” Marc promised.

“We’ll get him good. Jake and Steven can help”

“Oooohhhh no. Jake’s version of help is murder, and Steven would emotionally devastate him so bad he’d never recover”

You laugh, and it feels good… You wait for a moment before speaking. “I’m diebetic”

He stops at that, and you whine, but it doesn’t work this time. He looks at you with worry. “What? Baby, sit up, please?”

You comply, sitting up to look at him, and you can help but feel like you messed up again. “I’m sorry”

“No” Marc moved in on the bed, taking you in for a comforting hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong”

“But I did” You start to cry, and jesus christ how much are you going to cry in these three days. “I got it because I eat too much-”

“No” Jake cuts in before you can finish. “You do not eat too much. Please, don’t go down this road, we just got you to a healthy place with food, please don’t undo all your progress”

You had put in a lot of work into recovering from your eating disorder, and you could tell they were worried this would make you spiral.

Still, you argue. “If I was better at having an eating disorder, I wouldn’t have this problem.”

Jake looked horrified. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It mean I ate too fucking much Jake, if I had more control, I wouldn’t have!” You scoot away from him, annoyed at yourself. “Did I have an eating disroder or did I just eat too much?”

“Amor, bulimia is an eating disorder” He spoke carefully, but you were too angry at yourself to let him in.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child!”

“Then stop acting like one!”

A pregnant silence hangs in the air before you speak. “Get out.”

“No” Jake was firm.

“Go! I know you’re all mad at me anyway so just leave me here!”

His face softened, and you felt sick at his pity. “Mi vida… you think we’re mad at you?”

“Yes!” You all-but sob out.

Steven broke through. “Heavens, love, why would you ever think such a thing?”

“Because I woke you up and you guys need your sleep and I scared the shit out of Marc and now you have to deal with me and now you have to deal with a diabetic girlfriend and-”

Steven interrupted you with a hug that nearly knocked you over. He let you cry in his arms until you calmed down. “My darling, you scared all of us, but we’d rather be woken up every night than for you to have to deal with this alone, we swear. You aren’t a burdon, you aren’t a problem. I’m no doctor, I don’t know if your bulimia had an effect on your diabeties, but if it did, then that is a symptom of an illness you suffered for years.”

“My psych… he told me to lose 20 pounds and then sent me on my way…”

I’m going to fucking kill him

“Tell Jake he can’t kill him”

God dammit

“Darling” Steven pulled back to look at you. “It was not okay that he said that. He is a psychiatrist, not a dietitian or a nutritionist, and he is not your doctor. He shouldn’t say those things, especially given your history with eating disorders.”

“You don’t… you don’t think I need to lose weight?”

“No.” Marc said firmly. “We don’t. Let’s get you set up with a specialist and see what you need to do to manage this, but we’re not letting you fall back into bulimia if we can help it”

“Okay.” You flop back on the bed, becoming him to massage you again. ”I’m gonna have so many fucking appointments. A permanant psych” you glance up at Marc “One who isn’t that guy, and a therapist”

“That’s good, you’re getting the help you need.” Marc affirms.

You wait for a moment. “I thought… I thought you were against all this…”

Marc flops down on the bed beside you “Listen, I’m sorry if I was… unenthusatic. It’s hard for me to accept help, and sometimes I think I can just… if I love you enough and am there enough, I can fix everything”

Yo touch his pretty, stubbled face, you can tell he didn’t sleep much last night either. “You’re enough for me, enough for my love. My mind just needs a little extra help.”

“I just gotta… look at it different. The meds, the therapy, it’s not the enemy”

“It’s a sidekick” You smile at him.

He laughed. “Yeah, they can be or sidekick”

“I love you guys”

“And we love you”

You squeal, jumping into Jake’s arms as he came to pick you up the next day. “Jakey!!!”

He grinned at you, scooping you up. “Hola, muneca, como estas?”

“Bien!” You kiss him as he sets you down. “Y tu?”

“Bien, ahora que estoy contigo. Now, do you have everything?”

You open your backpack to double check. “Discharge papers, safety plan, prescription, appointments, doctors notes for work, grippy socks I get to keep, yup all here!”

Jake smiled, you seemed to be doing better. “And you finished the book?”

After the Carrie fiasco, Jake stopped by Barnes and Noble and picked up a copy of Jurassic Park for you too read.

“Yes! Can we watch Jurassic Park when we get home?”

Jake knew this would happen. You’d want to watch Jurassic Park. Again. You always made him put it on when you were drunk. On the plus side, Dr. Alan Grant would inevitably make you insanely horny.

“Of course we can. AFTER, we safety proof the apartment”

You groan, loudly. “We don’t actually have to do all that”

“We most definitely do.” Marc had been there with your social worker, promised to de-suicide the apartment, as you called it. No one thought you were funny. “No ropes-”

“How will you tie me up?”

“No razors-”

“How will I shave my asshole for you?”

“No belts-”

“But what will you whip me with”

“No- Cielos! I never whipped you!”

“Not for my lack of trying” You wink.

“Hostia, what am I going to do with you?”

You take his hand as you walk, Jake carrying your backpack. “Fuck me right and make me food”

“And drive you to therapy” He teases you, giving your hand a squeeze.

You nudge him “I was born to sit pretty in the passenger seat”

Jake gave you a tender kiss on the forehead. “And sit pretty you do”

You wave to your favorite nurse. “Bye, see you next time!”

The nurse was not thrilled.

Marc kissed rought your hand to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. “There’s my girl” Your hands were dry. You must not have gotten any lotion. You giggle, swinging his hand while you walked. “Are you feeling better, sweetheart?”

You turn to look at him, smiling softly. “I am, actually. Not perfect, but I think the break is what I needed.”

“How are the new meds?”

You shrug “Probably won't be able to tell for a while, on the anti-depressants. The anti-anxiety is great, haven't felt this relaxed in ages.”

“What was the other one?”

“Mood stabilizer. We’ll have to see on that one too.”

“Hm.” Marc opened the door for you, before letting Jake take over, since Marc hated driving.

You sit one the couch, eating your Taco Bell and drinking your McDonalds iced coffee. God you missed iced coffee. Jake grumbled the whole time at Taco Bell. He must really love you if he said the words “One mexican pizza, one crunch wrap supreme, and a baja blast, please” without dry heaving, and paid for it too.

“Missed one” You point at a belt thrown in the corner of the studio apartment, taking a massive bite of your mexican pizza.

“This would be a lot easier if you put your clothes away” Marc said, with no real malice.

You take a big ole sip of your iced coffee. “This would be a lot easier if you didn’t undress me and bend me over every surface of the apartment”

“How can you wash down fake mexican food with iced coffee? That’s disgusting”

“How can you eat my ass, that’s disgusting”

Marc paused, holding the belt he was gathering. He turned to you with a rare, wide grin on his mouth, lips curled up a bit. “God I’ve missed you”

You talk with your mouth full. “I’ve been gone three days”

“No… I mean…” He looked a little sad. “You’ve been here but not… here. God that doesn’t make sense.” Steven took over, better with words. “You were different. Like you had mentally checked out, were just going through the motions. We were really worried about you, darling.”

You put down your Mexican pizza, fighting the urge to take another giant bite but knowing this isn’t the time.

“I’m sorry”

Steven set down the items, and joined you on the couch. He was going to take your hand, but you were double fisting a baja blast and iced coffee. “Don’t be sorry. We’re not going to make you promise to come to us if you are feeling down, I know it can be hard just… just know we’d rather be woken up before you hurt yourself, okay? We’re always here for you. You aren't alone anymore.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I know baby, I’ll try.”

Steven rested his head on yours and closed his eyes, taking in a peaceful, quiet moment for you.

Well, quiet until he heard the loud slurp of you finishing your pop.

***************

A/N: I was hositalized summer of 2020. It was voluntary, and I didn't attempt yet. It had been a hard time as it was for everyone, im not special. I moved out of my grandparents basement and a week later lost both jobs to covid. My friend had already suggested I make a go bag (she had been hospitalized before). I got into a fight with my sister over BLM and her shit ass boyfriend, and that was the last straw. For various reasons, no one visited me in the hospital. My parents lived in another state (not that my dad would come anyway) my aunt who lived in town thought that visits were closed due to covid, and my grandparents in town absolutely could not leave the house since this was prevaccine. I texted my aunt to please let my mom know where i was going as I drove over there. she emmidetly called me and said she was on her way, and helped me check in. She picked me up when I got out and had me stay with her family for a few days to keep an extra eye out.

My uncle and little cousins all were so nice and sweet sharing their space, mom came and visited, as did my other aunt (my dad, interestingly, did not). At the psych ward i called a childhood bestie whose number i have memorized, and when i got out, another friend called me as soon as she heard. Had a lot of love an d support many don't have. but none of that is going to take away how lonely I felt in the psych ward. So i just wanted to write something to redue that expiernce.

Also, all the stuff the psych said to the reader in this, my psych said to me. yeah, just told me to lose 20 pounds and acted like i was wierd for sleepin in past 9. i deadass did ask him if i had somewhere to be. like wtf.

anyway, self indulgent as always. Hope you enjoy anyway.

taggging the usuals.

@howaboutcastiel @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @welcometostayingawake @in-between-the-cafes @lucianadraven32 @ninebluehearts @ahookedheroespureheart @jake-g-lockley

#marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector reader #jake lockley reader #steven grant reader #angst #hurt comfort #Jake lockley hurt comfort #marc spector hurt comfort #steven grant hurt comfort

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bearsinpotatosacks · 1 year

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A Feather on the Wind - Reuben Fitch

Previous Chapter

Reuben refuses to make this place home, but can he get convinced otherwise?

Words: 3492

He'd been waiting for this day for over a week. It was all he'd been waiting for throughout the sleepless nights and smiling faces. The photo he had of his mum was wrinkled from how often he'd held it. He was just glad he didn't have to adjust to a new school, his brain had been so full with adjusting that he wouldn't have made a good start, not that they were making too many concessions for that at his school now.

The clunk of the ticking clock filled the silence. He shuffled his feet on the carpet, fingers were going numb from how he was sitting on them.

The air in this hospice was stuffy. Everything was beige, the walls, the furniture, even the atmosphere was. It was nothing like his home. There were no flowers for a start, his mum was always growing flowers and keeping them in vases around the house.

There was no laughter in these halls. He'd missed his mum's laugh so much. She was everything to him. And now he could only see her when it was arranged prior.

"Reuben Fitch?" The receptionist called.

He sat up and made eye contact. His heart began to quicken its pace. A clammy feeling took over his hands.

"Your mum's ready now, she may be a bit tired but she's been so excited about your visit."

Time stopped for a second. He remembered what it was like before he got taken away. She'd stayed in bed most days but on the days she didn't, her body was frail. He tried his best to help even though she wouldn't let him. It broke his heart to see her so ill.

"Her room's at the end of the corridor," she said and pointed.

Carole stood up and extended a hand. He didn't take it yet couldn’t help but admit that her smile eased the anxiety in his stomach.

The bland scent followed them as they walked past identical beige walls and mediocre artwork. An overcast sky did nothing to make this place feel more alive. Why did he feel like his mum was only going to get worse in such an energy sapping place?

As they reached her door, he stopped, not able to bring himself to open the door. He didn't know what he'd see when he went in. What if she was worse? He pictured an almost lifeless version of his mum, stuck in a chair and destined to never get out of this place.

"What are you waiting for?" Carole asked.

Her tone wasn't offensive. It was the same sweet one she always had.

"I can't do it."

"Can't do what?"

"See her."

She hummed and pulled him away from the door. Kneeling down, she looked him straight in the eye and gently rubbed his arm.

"Yes you can," she said. "I know it seems scary now but this is all you've been talking about all week, I know you can do this."

He pushed her hand off, rubbing where she'd touched as he averted her confident gaze.

"You don't get it, what if she's not like my mum anymore!"

Something else, a shadow of sadness flickered in her blue eyes. He hadn't seen that before.

"I do get it, trust me." She took a deep breath. "My dad had cancer a few years back, he died of it but when it came to the end, I felt just as scared as you are now. I didn't want to see him so ill. That wasn't the dad I remembered."

"But I still went in because I knew he needed me, and because I knew I'd regret it if I didn't," she said. "And I know you can do this, okay?"

He took a deep shaky breath and nodded. His eyes fell back on the door. He could do this, it was his mum, of course he could do this.

Opening the door with a creak, he saw her sitting near the window. Thin blinds let light through. He could see the garden through the translucent material.

She turned to see him and a smile grew on her fatigued face. There were more lines than before, and no life in her face as she took him in. She was thinner. Her pyjamas hung off her body and a fuzzy blanket wrought tightly around her lithe frame.

"Baby!" Her voice was thin too, breathy.

She looked at Carole in the doorway for a moment, she must've waved because his mum waved back. The door clicked shut behind him. That heavy feeling in his gut came back. His body was on the verge of shaking like a leaf.

"Come here, you-" she gestured for him to come closer, he did without thinking despite the anxiety. "Have you grown? And your hair looks so good, and your skin?"

She stroked his cheeks, squishing them as laughter filled the room. But laughter wasn't enough. The walls were still beige. And the garden sat plain and unimaginative outside.

"Are they feeding you? Cleaning your clothes? Not hurting you are they?"

"No, Mum, they're really nice," he nuzzled into her hand. "But I miss your curries, Carole's food is nice but it's not yours."

"But they're good to you, yeah?"

"Yeah, there's this other kid there, not their son, called Mickey who I'm sharing a room with, he's really nice."

Her shoulders relaxed, "I'm glad you made a friend, and their son, he's alright?"

"Yeah, we're about the same age, he's more focused though, not mean, just focuses on himself," he said. "His parents have been foster parents since he was four so I think he's used to new kids by now."

She smiled and lay a kiss on his forehead. He pulled up a chair and sat down as he listened to her talk about life here. Despite her forced optimism, he could see how much this place was wearing her down. The usual wonder in her stories was missing.

“The nurses are looking after me though, Steven is especially nice, he makes sure Fresh Prince is on every Monday and helps me in the garden,” she said

There was a wheeze in her voice as she spoke. He could tell in the way her body tensed around him that she was holding back. But eventually she couldn't hold back anymore and broke into a fit of coughing.

He jumped off her lap as he remembered the last few months of his life. He'd lay awake, listening to her cough over and over again deep into the night. Involuntarily, his hands began to shake. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to help her but he couldn’t move.

"Water, Reuben, baby, pass me the water," she croaked through coughs.

He stared for a few moments more. A pitcher of water glimmered in the overcast sun. With his hands still shaking, he poured a few splashes of water into a nearby glass and handed it to his mum.

After a few moments, she calmed down but the energy she'd previously had was gone. Instead, it was replaced with that fatigue that he knew well.

"Tell me how school's been going?" She wheezed.

They weren't going to talk about it? Why were they pushing that off so easily?

"Good," he said with hesitation. "I've been trying hard in my classes but, with the change, it's been difficult to concentrate."

"That's understandable, baby, and it won't be for too long, right? By the end of the year your dad will be home and this will all go back to normal."

Dad. He missed him like an ache deep within himself. The only reason he was in care was because of the Marines not letting his dad back to look after him. He was in the middle of another tour and the military didn't give parental leave.

"Let's hope so."

They fell into silence. His mum's body slumped as they waited for each of them to say something. Usually, conversation flowed naturally between them but now he could see how little energy she had.

"Maybe I should go, mum," he said.

"Already? You just got here!"

"I just think you should rest, I want you to get better."

Reluctantly, she nodded with a shallow sigh. He shuffled forward to give her a hug. His fingers tightened on her baggy clothes. Her usual homely scent was gone, replaced with a stuffy, clinical smell that lingered all around.

"Look after yourself, you," she said.

"You too, mum,"

Tears pricked in his eyes as she kissed him on the forehead. He held onto the feeling of her hand against his cheek as he pulled away. He tried not to see how much she withered as he turned his back to leave.

~~~

Reuben ws silent on the drive home. He simply stared out the window. From what she could tell, the visit had been alright, she knew better than to go in and intrude if he didn't want her there. But the visit had been short. After his blip of insecurity, he’d gone back to being the excited kid he had been for the past week he'd been with them.

"How was your visit, then?" She tried.

"Good."

"Is your mum looking better?"

No reply. Maybe that was a no. She wanted to carry on, yet knew that needling him with questions probably wasn't what he wanted.

"I was thinking, maybe next time we could bring her something, like some flowers to light up her room?" She glanced over to him, he'd moved his head to look at her. "Maybe have a think about some stuff she might like, a picture of you might be nice or if you know her favourite flowers then we could get some of them? Just have a think."

"Okay," he mumbled.

They pulled into the drive. Reuben got up like a shot and stormed into the house. He didn't slam any doors or stomp but couldn't look anyone in the eye.

"Hey Reub, how was your v-" Goose started.

He watched him storm up the stairs with a slightly gaping mouth. Bradley came in from the living room, the television playing quietly in the background.

"What was that about?" He asked.

"No idea," she said. "I mean, he was anxious about seeing his mum but he said it went well, although he didn't tell me very much."

She looked up the stairs again, considering whether she should follow him up there but decided against it. Today had been a tough day, maybe he just needed some time to himself. To process.

~~~

Once he'd got into his room, his and Mickey's room anyway, all he'd wanted was to be alone. His mum had been so frail. Her dreads hung off her head, bags under her eyes made her seem years older than she actually was. The red undertones of her skin had turned ashy and sickly. Fatigue was laced in her eyes.

That wasn't his mum. His mum was the life of the room. She spent hours in the garden, tending to her flowers and humming under her breath.

Where had she gone? Had this cancer taken her away from him so much? Would he ever get her back?

"How was your mum?" Mickey asked.

He was playing alone in the corner with some action figures from a show he didn't know. To him, this place was home. Goose and Carole were caring and considerate.

For Reuben, though, he didn't want this place to be home. It never could be.

"She's sick, what do you expect?"

"I bet it was nice to see her, though,"

"I guess."

He sat down next to him. A stinging feeling poked his eyes, one he couldn’t stop anymore. He wanted all of this to stop. Why did it have to happen to him? Why did his mum have to be sick? Why did his dad have to be halfway across the world with the Marines? Why couldn’t he just have a normal family?

"If I tell you something will you promise not to tell?"

~~~

Mickey stared at Reuben confused. What was he going to tell him that was so serious?

"Yes."

His mind began to race with possibilities. Maybe he was going to run away. Maybe his mum had actually died and he hadn't told anyone. Maybe he was going to leave because his dad was back from the Marines.

"Seeing my mum made things worse," Reuben said.

"Worse? How? She is nice, right?"

"Yeah," Reuben nodded, his eyebrows furrowed in what could be confused, Mickey always struggled to understand. "It's just that it reminded of how little I wanted to be here in the first place."

"But why don't you want to be here? Here's good."

Mickey thought back to his parents. It had taken a bit of adjustment. He still felt uncomfortable around group meals. The shock when Carole cleaned and bandaged his scabs from when he played outside, or when Nick helped him with his school work, remained as full as it had the day before.

"It's not home, though. Home is with my parents, when my mum's not sick and my dad's not away. This place can never be home."

From what Mickey had heard from Reuben, his parents were lovely. They had barbecues and made cakes, they, whenever his dad wasn't out with the marines, went to his parents' evenings and zoos and museums. He came from a strong and loving home whereas Mickey didn't. The only thing he knew of caring homes like that was this place, with the Bradshaws, so the idea that Reuben wasn't happy in a place like this confused him.

A strange feeling pooled in his gut. He hadn't felt it for a while, not since he was taken away from his parents. To him, there was only one thing different between the Fitches and the Bradshaws. Him.

"My dad's going to be back soon, anyway, and I'll be back home again where things make sense."

His words were far away, as though he was underwater. The feeling in his gut spread up and into his throat. Tears pricked in his eyes. He liked Reuben, he was the closest thing to a friend he'd ever had and now he realised he didn't like him at all.

It didn't matter what Carole or Nick said, he was the bad thing that made his parents not love him. How could he not be when Reuben hated it here too? They shared a room after all.

He couldn’t sit here anymore. His pulse throbbed in his head as he stood up and darted out of the room.

~~~

Reuben watched as Mickey ran out. Was it something he said? Maybe it was something about his parents, he knew they weren't the best.

He followed him out and down the stairs. In the distance, he heard rapid scrambled words. He barely caught himself as stumbled across the wooden floor and into the kitchen.

"Okay, slow down, Mickey, and explain it to me again," Carole said.

Mickey was in a flood of tears. Red rimmed eyes overflowing. A sleek sheen from his crying made his cheeks shiny.

"Reuben was saying how he doesn't want to be here but his home and here are both nice but he doesn't like it here so it must be me and he doesn't like me but I want him to like me and-" the words burst out of him all in one breath.

Carole knelt down and patted his shoulder, "Okay, okay-"

Reuben couldn't stand and just watch. The words left his mouth before he had time to think.

"Dude! You weren't meant to tell her! I told you that was a secret for a reason!"

This didn't help Mickey's state. He took one look at Reuben and burst into a bigger flood of tears.

Upon hearing the commotion, Nick walked in from the garden. He stood on the threshold for a second, hands on his hips, surveying the situation, before jumping in to help.

"Right, let's all calm down-"

"I don't need to calm down, I want Mickey to apologise for breaking my promise!"

"See!" Mickey sobbed. "He does hate me!"

Carole pulled him into her and wrapped him in her arms. Mickey's hands gripped the back kf her cardigan in a vice-like grip as his sobs were muffled by her skirt.

"Reuben, come outside with me." Nick said with a slight assertive note to it.

He must be mad. Why was he mad at him though? Mickey was the one breaking promises like they didn't mean anything. This was exactly why he didn't like this place, all the rules were different, and there were definite favourites.

As Carole led Mickey into the living room, Reuben followed Goose outside to the back porch. Flowers bordered the garden below. The smell of freshly cut grass floated on the breeze, the lawnmower sat abandoned on the lawn.

"Come on, sit down," Nick patted the steps next to him.

Reuben stared for a moment then sat. Nick didn't say anything at first, his eyes were set straight ahead. In the silence, Reuben focused on the world around him. Birds sang in the distance. Laughter and the burning smell of barbecues solidified early summer.

Reuben couldn't stand the silence, "Are you going to shout at me?"

"No."

"Then why did you take me out here?"

Nick paused. He turned his head to him. There was a storm in his eyes, something about them reminded him of his dad.

"Your dad's in the military, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "The Marines, why?"

"I used to be in the Navy."

Reuben sat up straighter, "Really?"

"Yeah, I was a Radar Intercept Officer, the backseater in a jet."

"Why did you quit?"

He couldn’t help but ask. There wasn't any memorabilia anywhere. It would explain why people called him Goose, and why his friends only came around every few months.

Nick looked down at his hands. He rubbed the tired skin of his hands as a bitter smile crept onto his face. An aeroplane flew overhead, he watched the trails as they dissipated into the clouds.

"I didn't quit," he said, a wistful tone to his voice. "I went to this elite training school called Top Gun, during one of the exercises something went wrong and we, me and my pilot, Pete, lost control of the jet. When I went to eject, I hit the canopy"

He looked at Reuben, as if questioning whether he should continue, "I broke my neck, cracked my skull, had to learn to walk again. And even though I got back in shape for the Navy, I still couldn't rejoin because my eyesight got worse and I ache too much some days."

Reuben did a double take. He couldn’t tell this had happened to him. There were no visible scars, he didn't seem in pain throughout the time he'd been here. The only visible difference he could see was that he wore thick rimmed glasses when doing anything technical.

"Is that why you became a foster parent?" He asked.

"It was the only thing I knew to do."

He paused for a second then spoke again, "I bet you're wondering what this has to do with anything."

He nodded.

"The whole point of me telling you that, and I didn't mean to scare you or make you think your dad's going to get hurt like that, is to tell you that I know with complete certainty that your dad wants nothing more than to be with you."

He turned to him and placed his hands on his shoulders, "If there was a way he could do his job and be with you and your mum, he would, I know I would've."

Tears sparked in his eyes. His dad had given him a picture of himself to remember him by, Reuben had creased it with how much he'd stroked it during the last few hard months.

"So, if you ever want to talk to someone about him, I'm right here," he smiled. "And Carole knows all about sick parents, so she's got a good ear for that."

"I know you want to go home, I get that, but while you can't, we want to help you feel as comfortable as possible here and help you with all this stuff you've been dealing with, okay?"

He nodded with a sniff. Tears began to roll down his face as all the anguish ran out of him.

"Do you want a hug?" Nick asked.

Reuben nodded again. If he spoke, he'd begin to sob uncontrollably and he was alright with the state he was in now.

Nick's arms wrapped around him in the perfect way. It wasn't quite like the hugs from his mum that she gave out readily, or the ones from his dad when he came home, but the warmth was still there.

I don't really have much to say about this. I think it's a well put together chapter, and I'm also starting to put more of the characters in other chapters. Mickey is in the Bradshaws long-term care, Reuben's in their short-term care. Thanks for reading!

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stayonceforever · 2 years

Text

Always Taking Care

Pairing: Lee Felix x Male Reader

Genre: Fluff (?)

Warning: Reader has Covid

Word Count: 1,403 words

Summary: M/n is diagnosed with COVID but that doesn’t prevent Felix from taking care of him

I was sweating a lot and my temperature keeps rising and dropping. I’m sick and I’m unsure if it’s the common cold or COVID. I took the test yesterday and I’m getting the results today. I’m hoping it’s just the common cold because I’m suppose to go out with my boyfriend Felix tomorrow.

I’m now in bed shaking a lot. I’m pretty sure my fever was back. I just snuggled in my bed and played soft music, and hugging my plushie Felix gave to try sleep through the pain. But after a while I got a notification. I groaned in pain and checked it:

Specimen Collection date: 12/22/2021 Your SARS-CoV-2 (the virus that causes Covid-19) test result is POSITIVE

As I read the results, I couldn’t believe my eyes, I contracted covid. That means I couldn’t go on my date with Felix! Or for 2+ weeks! Dammit! I wanted to cry, and I did. Felix was just busy with his job this past few days, this was suppose to be our time together. Nothing I can do but just cry into my plushie. Embracing the scent of Felix that’s still on it.

After a while, I managed to cry it out all out, for now at least. The spam of texts from Felix reminded me I had to cancel our date. Call or text? I’m just going to stick with text because I don’t want him to see me in this condition.

9+ Missed Messages

I felt so guilty for not answering, but what could I do when I felt like shit.

M/n: hello lix

Felix: M/N YOU’RE ALIVE!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! ARE YOU OKAY?

M/n: well about that-

Felix: something’s wrong, I knew. Are you okay??

I was going to tell him but a series of coughs occurred. It hurts so bad and I’m all by myself. I quickly grabbed my water and just chugged it. Leaving my phone on my bed, leaving Felix on seen.

Soon I heard my phone ringing but I just left it alone. I feel overwhelmed right now. I just plopped back onto the bed. And the ringing won’t stop so I just answered it realizing it’s Felix. I also didn’t realized it was FaceTime.

Felix: M/N?! ARE U SICK? U LOOK PALE!

M/n: yes Felix, I’m sick. I am not okay.

Felix: I’m coming over stay there.

M/n: wait no Felix stay away

Felix: and why would i listen to that?

M/n: Felix... I have COVID. You can’t come to me!!

Felix: WHAT?! NOOOO! What about our date?!?!

M/n: we have to cancel it

Felix: what noooooo. i was looking forward to it!

M/n: same lix, but we can’t. i have to stay alone for 10 days or 2 weeks and see if I get better.

Felix: who’s going to take care of you and feed you?! You live alone!!

M/n: I’m not quite sure, but I’ll manage okay. Just keep yourself safe okay.

Felix: I want to go to you though!!

M/n: You can’t Lix, please stay away okay because I don’t want to get you sick

Felix: Hmm fine, but keep me updated every time okay!!

M/n” *chuckles* yes i will don’t worry my sunshine

Felix: Good, now rest!!

M/n: okay mom, haha

Felix: I’ll let this slide for once

M/n: I win hehe

Felix: You always win in my eyes~~

M/n: UHHH BYE MY TOASTER IS LEAKING *ends call*

The toaster, is leaking.... I am the dumbest person alive. Aigoo, what has this illness done to my brain. II sighed but felt so icky from all this coughing and sneezing, so I’m going to shower. I slipped on my fuzzy slippers and walked towards the bathroom.

I started filling up the tub with water. When it was half way, I threw in my purple lavender scented bath bombs. I also brought my speaker in the bathroom to play music.

Music while showering is a whole different type of vibe. Especially when you pretend to be in a MV or drama. If you don’t do that in the shower, you’re weird.

Today felt like a ONE IN A MILLION by TWICE type of day. I played the song and sinked myself into the tub. Now pretending that I’m in a dramatic scene. I submerged by head into the water.

*TIMESKIP*

I walked out the bathroom now feeling refreshed. I was going straight back to my bed but then my stomach did the most monstrous growl. Realizing I haven’t eaten the entire day.

I head towards the kitchen but ugh my forgetful self forgot to get groceries. I had to at least something right?? I searched through my empty fridge and pantry. Ugh I really messed this up. Maybe I should just have food delivered to me.

*DING DONG*

Who could that be? I wasn’t expecting anyone or anything. I quickly grabbed my mask and went to open the door. I opened it but I don’t see anyone there. I looked down and see a basket full of food and snacks.

I looked at in surprise, then I see a folded piece of paper. A note!! I picked up and read it.

“To help you get through your quarantine <3″

I looked around and I saw Felix’s blonde hair poking out behind a corner at the very end of the hall. I see his bright smile from a far, could melt everything in sight. I did a big heart to show I appreciated it. I grabbed the basket and went back in my room. This boy is too sweet for this cruel world, I’m lucky I had a man just like him.

He continued to send me more groceries and sometimes even gifts. One time I opened the door to a huge stuff bear with chocolates in it’s arms. I ate the chocolate while snuggling with the bear, along with FaceTiming Felix.

There was this one time, I opened the door more quicker than usual cause I was bored and waited for it. I look out through my door and the direction of the hall Felix is usually at. But then I saw him still running and the suddenly.

*THUD*

I saw him fell and I just laughed so loud. He just got up and laughed along with me. This boy is so silly I can’t. He kept doing this everyday, it makes my quarantine more enjoyable and tolerable.

My door bell rang once again, I put on my mask and head towards the door. I expected there to be another basket of things because that’s what Felix has been doing for the past few days. But to my surprise there wasn’t a basket, but a Felix.

I jumped back in surprise. I blinked making like what I saw would go away, but it didn’t. Felix was here, but in a hazmat suit. I opened my mouth about to spill out all the questions that was bottling up, but he put his finger on my lips shushing me.

Felix: I’m here in this suit so I can finally be with you

I was going to say something back but I was grasped into a tight hug from him. That hug, that warmth, that I’ve been so badly craving is now given to me. I hugged back immediately and didn’t want to let go.

He picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He closed the door and brought me to my room. Suddenly he just threw me on the bed, I landed on top of my plushies. I see he laugh but he joined me on the bed and just cuddled me again.

It was weird feeling due to the hazmat suit but I don’t care. He spent so much money on this so he could be able to hug me. I just ignore it and just let me enjoy this moment. We stayed in bed hugging until we both fell asleep.

#felix x male reader #male reader #x male reader #skz x male reader #skz x y/n #skz #stray kids #stray kids male reader #stray kids x male reader #skz scenarios #lee felix #lee felix x male reader #yongb #stray kids yongbok #stray kids felix #skz felix #imagines #lee yongbok #lee yongbok x male reader

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walkerismychoice · 3 years

Text

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened

Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.

A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish. My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2861

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.

"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.

Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."

"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.

Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."

"How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."

Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"

"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."

"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."

Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"

"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."

Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."

"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."

Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."

Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."

-----

“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.

“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.

Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”

"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."

"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.

Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."

Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.

Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"

Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.

But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.

Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.

Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"

"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."

"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"

"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.

"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."

"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.

"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."

Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."

Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.

Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."

Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.

Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.

She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.

Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.

Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."

"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.

"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."

Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.

As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”

Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”

Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”

“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.

“I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”

Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.

“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.

“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.

Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”

-----

Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.

Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”

“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”

Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.

Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.

#QOMH #TRR #drake x mc #ns*fw #playchoices fanfiction #the royal romance #my fic

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enthusiasticharry · 4 years

Text

The Secrets You Keep

summary: you're a stripper, and you meet Harry off shift. what happens when he finds out?

request: hiiii would you be able to do something like stripper y/n? not where they meet at the club or anything but something natural like at a cafe or something but she keeps it from him bc she thinks he’ll leave her? then he has a guys night at the strip club and sees her perform? but he loves it and she’s a bit embarrassed? idk but that kinda vibe if ur up for it! X

word count: 8.3k words of fluff, smut and angst if you squint (and i really mean squint) also not proofread, sorry!

masterlist | asks

It never occurred to you that once you left full time education you’d end up becoming a stripper. It wasn’t the occupation you had envisioned for yourself, but it was the one that paid the best money and even though it shouldn’t be — money was the thing that you needed the most. You lived in a small, one bedroom flat that you shared with your Grandma who had no income and little pension meaning that you was the only source of income for the two of you. Obviously it was hard upon you, but your Grandma had done so much for you when you were younger that you wanted to help her as much as you possibly could. Granted, finding a job as an eighteen year old that was enough to help pay the bills and for the treatment your Grandmother needed wasn’t the easiest, and that was how you stumbled across the club and the jobs there. Your Grandma didn’t know how you received your income, and you planned to keep it that way for as long as you physically could.

“Have you got any private dances today?” Jocelyn, also known as Sapphire amongst the people in the club, asked as she started fixing her makeup in the mirror next to yours.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, spraying a small amount of hairspray upon your curls, “I haven’t spoken to Elliot yet.”

“Apparently some big shot businessmen are coming in tomorrow.” Ruby adds from the other side of you, applying a lipstick that matched her name to her lips.

“Ugh.” Sapphire groaned, “That means old men with small dicks wanking to us instead of being with their probably very lovely, loving wives at home.”

“They lust after the taboo.” You add, applying a small amount of lipgloss to your lips, “They want what they can’t have, and brag when they get it.”

“They have money though.” Ruby shrugged, “Haven’t had many tips this week. I’d probably do anything for a couple hundred quid tomorrow.”

“Not anything Ruby.” You turn to look at her, shaking your head at the younger girl, “Stand your ground. Don’t let them take advantage of you.”

“I won’t.” She smiled, “I learnt from the best.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

As a fresh eighteen year old, just as Ruby was now, you could’ve only hoped for someone to help you and guide you through the trails and tribulations you endured at the club. That’s why you sort of took the younger girl under your wing and helped her as much as possible.

It wasn’t a lot. Granted, with what they did the majority of it was on their own upon the stage or in a private dance but you wanted to make sure she had small tips to help her handle herself in any situation that could occur and that she someone to talk to if she ever needed it.

“Are you working tomorrow, Emerald?” Emerald was your stage name.

“No.” You sigh happily, “It’s my day off.”

“Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.” Ruby smiled.

You certainly did.

The next morning, after helping your Grandma get ready and to the hospital, you make your way towards the small café you usually went to during your Grandmother’s chemo sessions. They usually lasted around three hours, and whilst you offered to stay with her, she usually forced you to leave and spend some time on your own, claiming she didn’t want you to see her at her worst.

The spring days had just started to warm up, so you dressed yourself in a summer dress you had picked up for cheap at a charity shop. You carried your tote bag with your book in over your shoulder as you pushed past the people on the street.

It wasn’t usually this busy, and looking around you saw no free tables but a few free chairs dotted around. Your favourite table, tucked away in the far right corner by the window had been taken by a man sat reading, just as you would’ve been. You toy back and forth with the idea of going to sit over there as you walk over to the counter.

You order your usual, a peach iced tea, and wait for the kind barista to make it. Your free days, usually, landed sporadically. They normally occurred when your grandmother either had chemo or a hospital appointment and that’s only because she can sometimes be really ill after them and needed you to look after her. Even though Elliot was not a good person by any means, he understood your situation and did help as little as he could.

“Excuse me.” The man looked up from this book at you, “Is this seat taken?”

“Uh. . .”

“It’s fine if it’s not!” Your quick to add, “There’s just no other seats.”

“No.” Your smile falters, “No! I mean that the seats not taken. It’s yours.”

“Thank you.” You drop your tote bag down on the floor, holding your hand out to the man, “I’m YN.”

“Harry.” He shakes your outstretched hand.

There was something oddly familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on why. He dressed quite casually, a punny t-shirt that said something about health on it and you didn’t want to seem too weird and bend down to look at what he had on his bottom half but you suspected it was something just as interesting.

You take your book out of your bag and place it on the table in front of you, flicking through the pages until you found the page you had left off at.

As a child you loved to read. Your grandmother always read you a bedtime story before bed and it lead to English being your best subject at school. Whether it be the creative writing aspect, or the analytic — you were just good at it. It was your highest grade at GCSE, an A, and your highest grade at A Level, a B.

You didn’t exchange any more words with Harry the entire time you were there. Periodically you looked up at him, and somewhere deep down you hoped that he did the same for you but you couldn’t be too sure. The book that he was reading seemed interesting enough, something about watermelon, you had noticed. You had a slight suspicion that it wasn’t about watermelon but you could never be too sure you supposed.

A whine almost escaped your lips when you realised that you had to go pick up your Grandmother and your book had just gotten interesting. That was the problem when you read, you could sit and do it for hours and not even look up. It was something so interesting to you that you could immerse yourself in a world different to the one you lived in and slip out of reality for however long and return back to normal as though nothing had happened.

“Thank you for letting me sit here.” You smile as you pack your bag up, “Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

You left feeling sort of fuzzy inside. You hadn’t spoken to the man at all really, but he was kind and certainly handsome with his tousled brown hair and gentle smile. That was probably going to be the last time that you saw him, and you probably should’ve asked for his number at least but you didn’t and that was why you walked away with him laying heavy upon your mind.

The next day, you wanted nothing more than to leave in the middle of your shift and curl up on the sofa. Instead, you were stood in a private room in the back of the club swirling your hips for a man sat upon a chair in the middle.

“You’re fucking fit.” He moans, and you almost throw up in your mouth.

“Thank you.”

You move yourself so you’re hovered over his lap, twisting your hips to beat of the sultry song spilling out of the speakers. If you didn’t need the money, or have a bills to pay you certainly wouldn’t be doing this.

“Fucking sort.” That’s when his hand drops down upon your behind, squeezing the flesh harshly.

You stand up, flipping around so that you’re looking at him, “Hands off.”

“Babe.” He throws his head back, “C’mon I’ve paid bags for this dance.”

“And you pay for a dance, and the rules state no touching.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, babe.”

“Better not.”

It does, and that’s when you get up and leave. He still has to pay, which is a plus but it just isn’t the best feeling. The job you do isn’t one that people necessarily respect you for, but there are rules in place to help with that. You and the other dancers within the club were human beings and deserved the rights that any other person has.

“You okay?” Ruby presses her hand to your shoulder as you powder your under-eyes, “I heard he was touching.”

“Yeah.” You smile at her through the mirror, “Started behind and they he just full on groped me.”

“Men are pigs.”

“I second that statement.” You laugh, “But you know what they’ll say.”

“That we teased and antagonised them to do it.”

Throwing her a deadpan look, you nod. It was something that you had dealt with for the past six years of your life and even though you did hate it and wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up every time it happened — you had gotten used to it.

“Did you have a nice day off yesterday?”

“I did thank you.” You smile, “Read a bit. Spent some time with my Grandma.”

“Sounds lovely.” Her face then twists into one that you can’t quite pinpoint, “You didn’t miss much here.”

“The businessmen not up too much?”

“No they paid well.” She nodded, “We just had to watch them wank their micropenises at us.”

You curl your nose up at the thought, “That sounds pleasant.”

“Totally.” She snorts.

“Emerald. Ruby.” Elliot sticks his head into the room, “Get your asses back out there.”

Ruby rolls her eyes and you laugh. Your job certainly wasn’t your favourite but some of the people around you made it more pleasant.

Two weeks later you find yourself sat in the corner of the café down the road from the hospital, your book open in front of you and a peppermint tea sat upon the table in a pot. Your Grandmother’s second round of chemo was slowly coming to the end of its stint and even though you wanted nothing more than for her to be back to the epitome of health, you would miss spending time at this small café.

“Hi.” You lift your head up to see Harry stood there, slightly breathless, “Is this seat taken?”

“It’s yours.” You smile, watching him drop his book on the table.

This time you could see his entire outfit. A white t-shirt with some writing on that you missed, a floral shirt over the top paired with red corduroy flares. You were right the last time that you met him —he did have an amazing sense of style. You, however, bought whatever was the cheapest or on sale that seemed acceptable to wear in public.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay.” You smile, “You?”

“Good, thanks.” He scratches the base of his neck, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Oh.” You have to stop yourself from smiling too much, “I only come when my Grandma has an appointment and they’re usually two weeks apart.”

“Ah.” He nods before his face curls, “I’m sorry if that seemed creepy.”

“It didn’t.” You can’t help the butterflies that erupt within your stomach, “I just thought I wouldn’t see you again.”

“Couldn’t let that happen.” Heat rises up your neck as he beams.

“No complaints about that from me.”

“That’s good.” He rests his hand upon his chest, letting out a deep breath, “Thought I was punching a little over my weight.”

“You’re not.” You cheeks hurt from smiling, “It’s cute.”

He looks down at his book. He seemed so shy, as though he had a confidence to talk to people but once they complimented him or something to do with him it completely changed. It was intriguing. He was already nicer to you than most people you’ve met of the opposite sex in your life and you’re let to learn anything about him apart from the fact that he reads Bukowski and likes black coffee — it certainly wasn’t much to go on.

“How long do we have until you have to go back to your Grandma?”

“Not long.” You sigh sadly, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand, it’s okay.” He flashes you a small smile, “Can I walk you back to the hospital?”

You ponder his offer for a second, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You walk back to the hospital brushing arms with one of the nicest people you’d ever met, and you couldn’t be happier.

“Has your Grandma been having treatment for long?”

“It’s her second round.” You explained, “They originally removed the tumour and it went away but it came back. They caught it quickly and she’s back in bay 11 for three hours every two weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, “That must’ve been tough.”

You shrug, “She’s a fighter, I know she is.”

“I don’t doubt she is.” He smiles, “She’s got an amazing granddaughter to stay alive for.”

The walk to the hospital isn’t long enough in your opinion. You speak about a few things, and you learn he does music and that’s when you put two and two together and realise that he’s actually Harry Styles from One Direction. Harry wished he could’ve recorded your reaction when you realised.

Harry had never met someone like you, and he had met a lot of people in his life. You were sweet, and kind and so gentle but also confident and held yourself in such a strong way that he couldn’t help but want to know you, the real you.

“This is it.” You stop in front of the entrance closest to the chemo ward, “Thank you for walking me.”

“It’s no problem.” He smiles, “I hope this doesn’t sound too weird, but can I get your number?”

“Uh. . . yeah.”

“Great.” He beams, “At least now I won’t have to hope you show up at the café.”

You swear you felt your heart burst.

During your shift a couple of weeks later, you don’t notice your phone light up a message. You actually don’t notice at all until you arrived home that night. You had already checked on your Grandma, who was sound asleep in bed, and that’s when you allowed yourself to drop down upon the sofa with a sigh.

Seeing an unknown number pop up on your screen at first had confused you, but once you had looked further into it, your palms started sweating.

Hi YN. It’s Harry. I know it’s been a while but I’ve been trying to figure out what to say. I hope you and your Grandma are well.

Your heart starts to beat faster. The message you had awaited for weeks was here and you had no idea how to act, never mind what too reply back with. The only thing that spiralled around within your mind was that he had been thinking about you.

In your head, you imagined him pacing around in his large house trying to figure out what to send you, just like they do in the movies. You at least hoped that was what he had been doing over the past couple of weeks.

Hi Harry! It’s lovely to hear from you, sorry it’s late. I’m okay, Grandma’s getting there. How are you?

You throw your phone down on the sofa next to you, trying not to giggle like you did as a schoolgirl whenever you were messaging boys. You nearly cried whenever you phone ran out of credit and you’d end up having to run to the store to get a top up in the morning with your spending money and explaining to them what had happened. You were thankful that your upgrade didn’t need that.

I’m okay. Glad to hear about your Grandma. I know this is probably really weird and totally out of the blue, but are you free this weekend? I’m leaving next week for a little while and I really want to see you before I do.

In your head, you ignore the end of the message about him leaving and focus on the fact that he wants to see you. Harry Styles wants to see you. You hoped it was a date, everything pointed it to be a date but you didn’t want get too ahead of yourself.

You haven’t had a boyfriend since your first year of Sixth Form, and the first date you were going on since then was going to be with Harry Styles of all people.

If you pull some strings, work an extra long shift on Saturday and please some of Elliot’s special clients — you may be able to get Friday night off. It was a maybe, but over the next two days you could make it a yes. You hoped that you could make it a yes.

You’ve never, in your six years of working at the club, missed any of your shifts for anything other than your Grandma suddenly falling ill, and those were on rare occasions. You certainly deserved this day off.

I’ll have to check with my boss but I think I could do Friday night? If that’s not a problem for you.

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from internally freaking out.

Sounds perfect. How about I pick you up at 8?

You wince. It wasn’t as though your were embarrassed of where you lived because you weren’t. You’ve worked hard to be able to pay for the flat and everything in it but there was something about showing it to someone who you’ve only just met and had no intention of explaining your situation to wasn’t on the top of your priority list.

Is there any chance I could meet you somewhere?

Of course. Where do you fancy eating? Italian? Thai?

Italian sounds good.

Great. I’ll send you details over.

Thank you :)

See you then, YN. Sweet dreams.

Night, Harry.

You slept well that night.

“I just don’t think I can spare you Friday.” Elliot sighs, “I’m sorry YN.”

You have to stop yourself from wanting to cry. You don’t use up all your holiday days, and you work way more than you should or that you’re paid for but you don’t complain and you just get on with it. The one time you ask for a shift off, his stubborn ass says that he cant do it.

“Please, Elliot.” You sign, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I just need this day off.”

“And I need my best girl on the floor. Need the best of the best.”

“There are plenty of other better girls than me working here.”

He shakes his head, “You’re the favourite, YN. Need you to be there.”

“Elliot.” You sigh, leaning forward in the uncomfortable seat you were sat in, “I’ve worked for you for six years and I’ve never asked for a day off like this before.”

“Yeah but��”

“—and! I’ve never asked for a day off apart from going to the hospital and you know that.”

“I couldn’t exactly say no to you—”

“I’ve worked every shift you’ve ever asked me to, covered for people when you need it.”

“Stop it!” He holds his hand up to silence you, “Just shut up for a second.”

You clamp your lips shut. If you didn’t need to stay on his good side to get Friday off you probably would’ve said something about how rude he was being. He’d always been rude, but he paid you and the rest of the girls so you all chose to ignore it.

He ponders, and you know the cogs are turning within his brain as he scrolls through his laptop, typing a few things. He takes his glasses off his face and drops them dramatically down on the table in front of him.

“Ruby will cover your shift.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you!”

“Don’t be thanking me too quickly.” He points his finger, “I need a favour from you.”

“Anything. Well not anything.”

“In a few weeks times there’s a big birthday party coming in.” He explains, “I need you to be the star of the show, do private dances and all the good things like that.”

“Just that?” You ask, knowing that it could be a trap knowing Elliot’s track record.

He nods, “Just that.”

You look at him sceptically, “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He holds his hands up, “A few big names are coming, that’s all. A list celebs that have asked to use the back exit.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Let me know the date and I’ll do it.”

You stand up, happy that you’ve managed to get your shift tomorrow off and that you can go on the date you have been excited for since you met Harry and was introduced to the world with him in it.

“Have fun at your thing Friday.”

“Thank you. . .?”

You don’t think you like Elliot being nice to you.

Friday night rolled around quickly and you were thankful for that. After helping your Grandma with her own dinner and into bed, you start getting ready. You curl your hair, brushing it out until its in what looks like effortless waves but are actually quite hard waves to achieve. You do natural makeup, something completely different to makeup you usually wear in one of your shifts. You try to keep all of your features soft, different to how you usually look on a day to day basis. You dress in a long white polka-dotted maxi skirt, paired with a thin long-sleeved jumper that would keep you warm due to the ever changing British weather.

You had done a little bit of research on the restaurant Harry had sent you the address for and learnt that it wasn’t the most expensive restaurant ever, but one that was way out of your price range. It meant that you had to dip into the fund that you keep for occasions where you need a little extra money or you will use in the future when you eventually move out and busy your own place.

The tube was crammed, seeing as though it was a Friday night and the majority of people were either coming home from work and stating to go out for end of the week drinks. You knew that the club would start to become heaving as the night grew and a part of you was thankful that you didn’t have to work today, and you were given a small break from the hell that is working at a strip club.

The restaurant, when you arrived, definitely looked fancier than it had online. The bar stood against the corner wall, the right hand side of the restaurant had booths covering the walls whilst stand alone tables scattered around the rest of the room.

You were surprised when you saw Harry, already sat at the booth in the far right corner. He lifted his hand up in an awkward sort of wave and you couldn’t help but beam at him. He had a shirt, an expensive looking white shirt with a yellow and blue jumper over the top. You hand felt so excited to see someone since when your Grandma went into hospital for her tumour being removed and you couldn’t see her for a few days.

“YN.” He sighs, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You smile, slipping into the booth across from him.

“Was starting to think you wasn’t going to show up.”

“I’m sorry.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, “I underestimated how bust the tube was going to be.”

You can tell he wants to pry but instead he says, “It’s okay.”

His nails were painted yellow, a few of them painted lilac as well. There was something so simple about his nails that you just loved, and if it wasn’t weird you probably would’ve stared at them for way too long for it to be acceptable. You knew he had tattoos, and you could see the cross on his hand and the the anchor peaking out from underneath his shirt and you wanted to see more.

“I like your nails.” You smile, running your own fingers over your own nails underneath the table.

“Thanks.” A blush creeps up his neck, “I did them last night. Sort of calmed me down, I was quite nervous.”

“Nervous for what?”

“This.” He nods, “I haven’t been as nervous for a date in a long time.”

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

In your twenty four years of living, you’ve never had someone say that they were nervous to see you. You’ve been nervous to see and do many things in your life and you hoped that somewhere along the line it would’ve been the same for somebody else and yourself but you had the slight suspicion that wasn’t the case. Hearing those words out loud, coming from someone who you’d never expect it too was special, and you were going to keep that for as long as you physically could.

“I did.” He looks down at the table briefly, “I’ve never liked a girl as much as I like you before.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I’d like to get to know you.”

That’s what you do. For the rest of the date you don’t stop talking. Even though you’re starving and could eat your fist, it takes you the longest you’ve ever taken to eat your food because of how much you spend it talking.

You’re just about to dig in to your desert when your body physically halts, “Why didn’t you want me to pick you up?”

“I, uh, I—”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t what to! I know I can be pretty invasive sometimes.”

“No, it’s fine!” You take a sip of your drink to swallow down the dryness within your throat, “I don’t live in the nicest building, or in the nicest area and I guess I was embarrassed.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“But I was.” You drop your eyes to the plate in front of you, “I know I shouldn’t have been and that it was stupid but I just didn’t want you judge me before you truly knew me because of where I live.”

“I hope you know now that I wouldn’t have done that.”

“I do.”

You let Harry drive you home. Even though you would never admit it to his face just yet, you really liked him. He was kind, sweet and funny and everything you could ever want in your person. You haven’t said this in a long time but you love the person you are around him and you wouldn’t change it for the world if you didn’t have to.

He stops in the car park outside the building of flats you live in and you can tell he’s thinking deeply about something but you try to not concentrate on that too much.

“I would invite you up.” You laugh, “But I don’t think the sofa in the middle of my Grandma’s flat whilst she snores in the next room is the most romantic.”

He scrunches up his nose, “I can’t say that it is.”

“I’m sorry.” You drop your head to look at your hands that are tested on your knees, “I really wish I could offer you something. Anything.”

“It’s okay, YN.” He uses his finger to move your head up so that you’re looking at him, “I don’t expect anything from you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.”

He hesitates for a moment, and you can feel the finger that was rested upon your chin move upwards so that its upon your cheek. You flicker your eyes closed and just mask in the feeling of his touch against your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

You eyes open as you nod your head, letting out a shaky breath at the sheer surprise you feel at his words.

“Want your words, darling.”

“Please kiss me.”

You close your eyes again and you feel his lips touch yours. It's light at first, but you can’t contain yourself and you end up pushing closer to him, relishing in the feeling of his lips upon yours. Your fingertips grip the collar of his shirt, trying to pull him closer without hurting himself too much on the centre console. Even though you both don’t want to, you pull away as you start to loose breath.

“You okay?” Your chest heaves up and down as he speaks.

“Never been better.” You sigh, resting your forehead against his.

“Good.”

You kiss again, this time its more passionate and you can’t help but let out a small whine as he pulls away. The smug look on his face after hearing that sound was enough to send your stomach doing flips.

You really didn’t want to do this, but you had too: “I have to go.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles, “I understand.”

“Okay.” You reach for the door handle.

“I have to go away for a bit.” He sighs, “I’m writing some music over in America but when I get back, do you want to maybe go on another date?”

“I’d love to.”

He presses one last kiss to your lips and you leave the car, muttering a small, “Bye.”

You feel giddy. As though you’re sixteen again and just come back from your first date with your first boyfriend. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time and in all honesty, you had no idea how to handle those feelings. You certainly wouldn’t admit that you screamed quietly into your pillow in excitement that night.

You couldn’t wait for him to return home.

Two weeks. Harry was away for two weeks and even though you had only kissed him once, twice if you actually count how many kisses there were, you missed him more than words could explain. You weren’t one to usually message first, so you did end up waiting until Harry had a spare moment to message you which wasn’t as often as you would’ve liked but you couldn’t complain.

You almost felt as though you had been drip fed this new life with Harry in, only to have it taken away quicker than you could blink. It wasn’t forever, and that was probably the thing keeping you sane. This had all happened in such a short amount of time but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

The only thing that limited how far you could take this was your job.

Harry had obviously been curious and during a text conversation in the first week of his week being away — he asked what you did. After having a small freak out you decided to say that you worked in a bar. It was a small, white lie and you hated yourself for it but telling him that you were a stripper just didn’t feel like the best thing to do at that time.

You just weren’t ready to tell him, and that was totally okay.

Speaking of your work, tonight was the night of the big party that Elliot made sure you could come to. The club had held celebrity parties before, so you weren’t entirely nervous but every time someone mentioned it you could feel your heart speeding up slightly.

“Emerald.” You turn to look at Elliot who’s trudging towards you, a bag in hand, “Here’s your new outfit for tonight.”

“New? I thought I’d just wear the one for special occasions.”

“This is a special, special occasion Emerald.” He dropped the bag down in front of you, “Wear this.”

Taking the material out of the bag, your mouth dropped open at the sight of the emerald green lingerie in your hands. It was delicate lace that you feared you’d rip if you weren’t too careful. Putting it on, your breasts slightly spilled over the lace, and whilst your front was covered, the thong back of the lingerie left your ass on full display. It was beautiful, you couldn’t dismiss that but you just hadn’t ever worn something so skimpy before. You pulled your black silk robe over your shoulders, fastened your black heels onto your feet and made your way towards the side of the stage.

The skimpiness of the new lingerie did send more butterflies to the pit of your stomach than you were originally hoping for but it was only another hurdle for you to get over which you knew you’d be able to do.

You heard the music start to play, you slipped your hand through the gap in the curtain and opened it, revealing yourself to the room.

Here goes nothing, you mumble to yourself.

Harry’s jaw dropped at the sight of you on the stage. It certainly wasn’t his usual scene, a strip club, but it was a friend of a friends birthday and he had kindly been invited and he wasn’t about to turn it down. He wasn’t in the band anymore, and certainly didn’t have to hide that he went to places like this anymore, even though they weren’t his favourite.

He couldn’t bare his eyes off of you. The way your body moved to the rhythm of the song, your darkly manicured nails pushed the robe of your shoulders, exposing the delicate lingerie you were wearing. Harry would be lying if he said that his cock didn’t start to stir at the sight.

You. The girl who he thought spent her days reading, and looking after Grandma had a secret persona that he only wanted to explore more.

“My word.” One of the men in the group spoke, loudly so that everyone could hear him, “She’s fit as fuck.”

“To get my hands on her.”

Harry clenches his jaw, and his fist that rested on the arm of his chair. If he wasn’t in a very public place where people could record him, he’d give that man a piece of his mind. He probably would but he’d do it when nobody was around so the man could truly understand what he was saying to him.

“Do you think I could get a dance with her?” The birthday boy asked.

“It’s your birthday.” The dickhead with no morals spoke, “She might give you something special as a present.”

“The rules say no touching.” The words slip out of Harry’s mouth before he can stop them, “So I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sure you’d be saying something different if you were in his position, Styles.”

Harry rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on the stage, watching as you seductively bent down to pick up some of the tips that had been thrown on the bottom of the stage. The song was slowly finishing and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little bit of disappointment bubbling within him.

Harry watched your lean legs as you strutted towards the side of the stage, flicking the long wig on your head over your shoulder, seductively running your tongue over your bottom lip as you pulled the material of the lingerie down from your breasts.

Harry bit his lip, his leg bounced, he ran his hand up and down his thigh. He tried to do everything in his power to distract himself from the rousing within his trousers but he just couldn’t do it. The flimsy material dropped to the floor, your red painted lips curled up into a smirk and you made your way behind the curtain, not showing any of your truly bare skin.

If you hadn’t been imprinted on his brain before, you certainly were now.

You could hear the grunts and groans of happiness, and a few cheers whilst on stage but the lights were so bright that you couldn’t see anything past the first row or so. The tips you had received were good, and you were pleased about that.

You received your robe and bra back from the stage and pulled them back onto your body. Your solo dance was always a hit for Elliot, and you supposed that was why he’s kept you on for so long and if you were honest, they were the easiest to do. Private dances always made you too uncomfortable, and in the six years you’ve worked there there had only been a handful of people that made you feel comfortable when it came to private dances.

“Emerald.” Elliot walks in smiling and you assume everything is swell on the floor, “They fucking love you.”

You nod your head, muttering a small and awkward, “Thank you.”

He hums, “You’ve been requested for a private dance, and he’s promised to pay you accordingly.”

“Really?”

Another hum, “Room Two. I think he’s already there.”

“Thanks.”

He leaves the room, a bounce in his step. You suppose that this is a good thing and he’ll finally get off your back for the time you took off for the date with Harry. You at least hoped.

You checked yourself. You made sure your makeup still looked flawless, your breasts sat perfectly within the material and your arse looked good. You brush through the wig once and make your way towards room two, the smaller of the three private dance rooms which helped it be more intimate.

You smiled at the bouncer at the door, Gerry, a man who looked as though he could kill someone with a single punch but was actually a massive teddy bear. He was good at his job of keeping everyone safe and making sure that the bad eggs that came in left just as quickly.

Watching the door slowly open, Harry felt his heart stop. He had been pacing up and down the room ever since he had walked in, and only just stopped when he heard the creek of the door. He couldn’t believe that you were in front of him, and you certainly couldn’t believe that he was in front of you either.

“YN. . .” He sounded breathless.

“Harry?” He could see your chest rising and falling at a quick pace, “What? How? I thought you were in America.”

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “I got back last night.”

“Why are you here?” He can hear the lump in your throat as you speak, your eyes glossing over.

“A Birthday party.”

“Yours?”

“No!” He’s quick to interrupt, “A friend of a friend. It’s not mine. Mine’s in February, and I certainly don’t think I’ll be having my party here. Not that there’s anything wrong with here! It’s lovely! You’re lovely! I’m rambling.”

He was so gosh darn cute and if you weren’t in the middle of a break down, you probably would’ve laughed or at least reacted to his little word vomit. It was probably the quickest you’d ever heard him talk, not that it was hard.

After a few minutes of contemplating what to say, you sigh, “I’m sorry.”

His voice is soft, his features falling, “What are you sorry for?”

“Lying to you.” You drop your gaze to the floor, trying to suppress the tears, “I didn’t want to.”

“Hey, hey.” He walks over to you, placing his finger underneath your chin just like he had done in the car weeks ago, “No need to get upset, I’m not.”

“You should be.” You bottom lip quivers, “I lied to you and I had no intention to retract that just yet.”

“YN.” He rests his palms on your cheeks, “I’m not angry. I’m not upset. I just want to know why.”

“I was scared.” You admit, trying to do anything but look up at him, “I didn’t know what you’d think or if you’d change your mind.”

“Change my mind about what?”

“Wanting too, you know. . .?”

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t. There’s no reason for me to.”

“I’m a stripper Harry, it gives you full reason to not want to be associated with me.” You lift your hand to wipe your under-eye.

“I’m not judging you, YN, I said I wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t be upset if you did.”

“YN.” His voice is stern, more so than it had been, “I don’t care that you’re a stripper.”

“You don’t.”

“No.” He smiles, “I don’t.”

“Fuck.” You let out a breath of relief, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugs, “If you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to.”

You had never met someone like him, and no matter how many times he surprised you that was just fact. Granted, you hadn’t had time to date anyone with looking after your Grandma but another reason you didn’t was because of what they would think of you.

You knew that not everyone would be was understanding and lovely as Harry had been, and that was just because of the lovely person he was inside and out. That was the reason you didn’t tell him, because even though you had an inclination that he was accepting but you didn’t know whether that was just a façade or he was like that in real life. You loved that he was like that in real life.

“Can I be honest?” You nod, “I enjoyed it.”

You bite your lip to suppress the smile that threatened to cross your lips, “You did?”

He hums, beaming a smile at you.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” The corner of his lips tugs upwards, “I’d still love to get that private dance.”

You roll your eyes and thwack his shoulder playfully, “If you must.”

“I’ll wait for you.” He nods, “Until your shift is over, if you want.”

“Please.”

“I’ll see you then.”

You hadn’t even made it completely into Harry’s house before his lips were on yours. He pushed you up against his front door before he’d even shut it properly, his lips falling upon yours with a hunger you hadn’t felt since you last kissed him.

Maybe it was his hands rested upon the small of your back, your fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Can I offer you a drink?” He smirks against your lips.

“Not the priority.” You reply, not bringing your lips away from his.

“Noted.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Upstairs?”

“Upstairs.”

You follow him up the stairs, your hand rested firmly in his. You’re too distracted by the man in front of you to take any notice of the house or where you were going.

Harry had kept true to his word and waited for you. You secretly wished that you could have recorded the group’s reaction as you walked towards him, a small smile on your face. After bidding them goodbye, the two of you jumped in a taxi that Harry had ordered and made your way to his house, or what you expected to be his house and you weren’t disappointed.

The second you step into the plushly decorated room, you’re kissing again. His hands slide down to rest upon curve of your ass, his ring-clad fingers immediately squeezing the flesh. You groan lightly into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip through her parted lips. You grip his bicep as he leads your backwards into the room, your calves hitting the bed as he does so.

Your lips part, you fall back onto the bed. You look up at him through your eyelashes, your fingertips reaching to pull the shirt he was wearing over his head. You almost swoon there and then at the sight of the tattoos littering his skin. You lean forward and place a kiss on his lower stomach, just before his happy trail that slips into the band of his trousers.

You bite your lip, grinning up at him.

“What are you planning?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, “What do you want me to be planning?”

He groans, “Anything at this point.”

You reach forward, taking the button of his trousers in your fingers. You look up, “Is this okay?”

“More than okay, baby.”

You unbutton his trousers, wrapping your finger in the waistband and pulling them down. You can already see the tent in his boxers. You wondered how long he had been like this, you wondered if it had been since your dances.

You blush slightly as you hook your fingers now into the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him. You can’t handle the look on his face, the slight blush but the boyish grin mixed with his curls that had fallen forward upon his forehead. You pull the fabric down, exposing his hard cock. You watch as it hits his stomach briefly, the tip swollen. You lift your hand up, wrapping it around him before giving him a few pumps. His stomach quivers as you do so, a groan escaping him as you wrap your lips around his tip. His eyes flutter closed as you start to bob your head, his fingers reaching forward to grab your hair into a ponytail.

“Fuck baby.” His hips involuntarily buck forward. You sink further down, going as far as you could.

Harry couldn’t believe how good he felt. It had been a while since he had been with someone, and it was worth the wait. You pulled away too soon in his opinion, but the sight of you, all teary eyed and sloppy sent his mind spiralling.

“God.” He bent down and wrapped his arms around your thighs, lifting you up so he could move you further up the bed, “You’re fucking killing me here.”

“Good.” You giggle.

He’s quick to remove your shirt, allowing you to pull your jeans down at the same time. He didn’t expect you to still be in the lingerie from earlier, and if it was physically possible, he swore his cock hardened even more.

“Fuck me.”

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours again as his fingers fumble with the latch of your bra. You bite your bottom lip as he wraps his around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. He uses his hand to knead the other one. You can’t help but grind your hips forwards, a feeling bubbling deep in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Harry.” You moan, withering under his touch.

He kisses down from your lips, to your jaw, down your neck until he’s littering them all the way to the band of your underwear.

“Is this okay?”

“More than okay.” You whine as he lets out a breath upon the thin material.

He pulls your underwear down, teasing you by placing kisses across your thighs and pubic bone. He’s so close, yet so far from the place that you need him the most. He licks a stripe across your centre, until he wraps his lips around your clit. You can’t help the moans that escape your parted lips as he nibbles and flicks your sensitive nub, her thighs starting to shake as he coaxes her closer and closer to her orgasm.

“Don’t stop.” You thread your fingers through his hair, “God! Harry.”

He pulls away, and you let out a shaky breath as he does so.

“No fair.” You whine.

“Life isn’t.”

“Just shut up and get a condom.” He does as you request, placing a small peck to your lips as he reached over to grab a condom from the drawer beside the bed.

You watch as he rips the packet open with his teeth, pulling the rubber down his length. He presses another kiss to your lips, catching her eyesight once more.

“Are you sure?”

“More than okay.”

He hovers over you, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds to coax a moan out of your lips. He groans into your shoulder as he pushes in, biting down briefly to suppress the sound.

“Don’t.” You moan, scratching your nails down his back as he starts to thrust in and out of you, “Let me hear you.”

“Fuck.” You squeeze him slightly, “Do that again.”

He speeds up, catching your lips as your hips meeting quicker, the only sound in the room being your skin slapping each others. You slip one of your hands between the two of you, your nimble fingers rubbing your clit.

“Where have you been all my life?” You can’t help the pleasurable giggle that escapes your lips.

“Feel so good, H.”

After a few more thrusts, a couple more circles of her clit and she’s comes around his cock, squeezing him tightly as she did so.

“Fuck, shit, oh god.”

He continues to thrust in and out of you, coaxing you through your orgasm and towards his. He seems to go deeper and deeper until he’s spilling inside the condom, his moans louder than any you had heard before.

“God.” He collapses on top of you, taking a few seconds to collect himself and let you collect yourself, “Haven’t felt like that in a long time.”

“Glad I could be of some assistance.” You push the hair that had matted to your face off.

“You should keep secrets from me more often.’

“I’m never doing that again.”

“Good.” He pecks your lips.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

Note

How do you think the pillar men would react to a s/o who’s pretty innocent and a loveable ray of sunshine? Just the sweetest soul ever. Never having any ill intentions towards anyone ever, even if they’re mean to her. S/o has a lot of empathy and is just Disney princess level of kindness and nurturing. Sorry if that’s specific. I just always love the trope for couple that are opposites attract.

Did you mean: H O L L Y K U J O ???

Holly: Jotaro, make sure you eat all your vegetables 🥰 Jotaro: *is about to tell her to F*** off* All 4 of his new Pillarmen step-dads: 😡😡😡😡 Jotaro: *sweating* Yes Mom... 😰

I agree, dear Anon, I'm a bit of a sucker for big intimidating Pillarmen with a sweet little mate ❤❤❤ I'm even more of a sucker for writing it! 🥰😇😘 Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen (separate) with a sweet and nurturing s/o...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• From the moment he first met you, your kindness was baffling to Kars.

• Even before you two had begun a proper relationship, he took notice that you were always dotting on him.

• Sometimes when he was up in his study, spending hours at his desk as he worked away at piles of paperwork, you would pop in to check up on him every so often with a mug of tea for him in hand; brewed hot and black with no sugar, just the way he liked it.

• Somehow you just always knew what he liked and how he liked it.

• You often brung along a comfortable blanket to drape over his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you asked him if he needed anything else and encouraged him to take a break if and when he needed it.

• Nothing prompted you do do these things, he never once asked you for anything really, but it seemed as if you went out of your way to show a little kindness every time.

• Kars knew himself to be a cold creature but you were a person who made his frosty heart thaw with the warmth you radiated.

• As a man who considered nature precious life, he found himself admiring how unbelievably good you were with Animals.

• In fact, they just seemed to flock to you!

• Once, when you both went to an Animal shelter to look for a pet to adopt, Kars turned his back for only a minute and came back to find that you had somehow coaxed the meanest and mangiest old cat there into your lap.

• The shelter workers stood there absolutely gobsmacked as they watched the animal, that had scratched and hissed at and bitten anyone and everyone who had even dared to come near it, cuddling in your arms and purring like a kitten.

• "Aren't you just the sweetest thing?~" You giggled, lovingly running a hand on the cats bristly old fur as it rumbled contently, its purr was like a running motor. "What a pretty kitty you are!"

• Kars could only smile softly to himself as you both left the shelter that day with the mean old cat you were still lovingly cradling in your arms.

• He had to admit, even though he was thousands of years old and an Ultimate lifeform; you somehow felt like you were much higher above him, like a benevolent and virtuous Queen.

Esidisi:

• Your sweet and motherly nature was the very first thing to make Esidisi absolutely head over heals for you.

• There were times you made his heart swell to the point of it hurting when he watched you waltz around the house, singing a happy tune as you did chores or cooked.

• Even though you knew he didn't necessarily need to eat, you always questioned if he was hungry and offered to make him food.

• And it was always delicious homemade food at that!

• You absolutely brought life to every room you passed through and it pulsed through everything you made.

• It was as if everything you touched left behind a little magic in his eyes.

• Once, when you two were still in the stages of getting to know one another, you happened to witness him have one of his crying fits for the first time.

• Esidisi had been very stressed that day and of course, it all overwhelmed him and came out in a flood of tears.

• Immediately, you dropped the laundry you were folding the second you heard him start to sob from the other room and ran to see what was going on.

• "Oh my goodness, what happened?" You questioned, coming towards him quickly.

• Even through his barrage of tears, he didn't miss the genuine concern in your voice and the worry etched into your face as you lowered yourself on your knees in front of him, taking his tearstreaked face gently into your hands.

• "Do you need a hug? We can hug!" You told him, opening your arms to him with no hesitation whatsoever as he struggled to get an explanation out through his bawling.

• The way you rubbed his back, crooning for him to take deep breaths, was something that would stay with him forever as usually people tended to just stand back and gawk at him when he was having a meltdown.

• You hardly even knew him and there you were, comforting him and letting him cry all over you as if you had known him your whole life!

• Each time he spent his evenings with his arms wrapped around you as you cooked supper, both of you singing, he was honestly starting to think he had fallen in love with a Goddess in disguise.

Wamuu:

• You were the only person in the world who could make Wamuu, the greatest and fiercest warrior who ever lived, turn into a shy and blushing mess.

• The way you gently touched his arm and smiled up into his face as you spoke to him, asking him if he was hungry or tired after a long day of training, never failed to make this hardened Pillarman turn to mush.

• Your voice was like music to his ears, as if your words always held a secret song.

• When you did things for him, no matter how small on your part, he could always tell it was done purely out of love.

• "I thought you would get cold going out this time of year, so I made you a scarf and mittens!" You said with a smile, presenting him with the hand-knitted treasures one cold winters day when he was getting ready to leave the house.

• Wamuu was never a person to wear clothes at all. In fact, he would never be cold or hot or uncomfortable in any climate in the slightest being an Ultimate lifeform.

• But still, he stared at the folded scarf and mitts with wide eyes, holding them in his hands like one would a baby bird.

• He had seen you knitting on the couch these past few nights, smiling softly to yourself as you hummed and put love in every stitch. He had honestly thought nothing of it at the time but now it all made sense.

• You had spent all your free time making these... just for him?

• From that moment on, whenever he and the other Pillarmen went outside in the snow (doing God-knows-what), you can bet that he was wearing that scarf and mittens.

• With nothing else but his loincloth, of course.

• When the others questioned him as to why he was wearing such ridiculous attire when he had no need for them, he simply stood there with his head held high; his scarf swaying in the wind as he clenched his mittened hands into fists at his sides.

• "With all due respect my Masters; my beloved bride made these for me." He said calmly, the corners of his lips quirking into a soft smile as their expressions morphed into ones of disbelief. "And believe me when I say that I cherish them as much as I cherish her."

• The warrior actually felt a little boost in his pride seeing the little gleam of jealousy in his companions' eyes at his words.

• It only fed his little ego more when he showed up one day with a new knitted hat with a fuzzy pom-pom on top and Esidisi actually cried and asked if you could make one for him too.

Santana:

• Santana had always rightfully believed that all Humans were the same; loud, annoying, primitive, cruel, dangerous...

• That was until he fell in love with you of course.

• You were a kind of Human he wasn't aware existed, a very soft and loving kind.

• You just seemed to radiate feelings that touched his very soul; like a bouncy ball of sunshine.

• If anyone had ever done something even borderline disrespectful to Santana, he wouldn't put hesitate them in their rightful place (in his stomach that was) but you on the other hand; you always brushed any rude behavior from another off with a smile.

• Always curious, Santana often found himself hanging around in the background, watching you carry out your housework routine.

• You didn't mind this of course, you always assured him that you liked his company.

• Sometimes you even lovingly referred to him as your shadow.

• "Would you like to help, Santana sweetie?" You asked him with a smile as you peered over your shoulder; you were rolling out and cutting homemade cookie dough to bake.

• He noticed you were always so patient, praising him for the littlest things; guiding his hands with the rolling pin, showing him how to flour the cutter and carefully peel away the outline of the shapes.

• "A star for my star," you beamed, holding up a warm star shaped sugar cookie for him to take when you had pulled them from the oven.

• He blinked as you waved the freshly baked cookie in his face, taking it carefully.

• A little smile curled around the pastry when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his help.

• You and only you could make him feel tingles from the insides out.

• One of his most favourite routines with you was when you sat on the couch on your phone or watching T.V at night; where you'd invite him to lay his head in your lap.

• Your melodic voice could only be compared to a Princess', your little fingers combing out the tangles of his thick red hair as you hummed to him or talked to him about his day before he was lulled to sleep by it all.

• Your sweetness, your warmth, your empathy; it gave him a hope for Humanity he never had before he met you...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #pillarmen headcanons #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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helgabatwrittings · 3 years

Text

When your world comes crashing down don't cry

His mind kept racing between everything he had learned. It was all he could think about lately. Alya and Nino are Rena Rouge and Carapace. They know about each other. Ladybug knows that they know. Ladybug was the one who gave that secret away. Ladybug didn’t tell him. Because they must keep their identities a secret. And they all think he is annoying. That’s why Ladybug doesn’t tell him anything. Because Chat Noir is annoying, and he can’t be trusted.

AO3

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Pretending everything was okay was becoming the most strenuous task each day.

Especially when one hasn’t slept for almost a week.

A week…

A week has passed ever since Nino told him just how annoying he was. It made sense actually, the more he thought about it, the clearer it got.

Adrien was annoying, that was a fact, he has always been like that and that is why his father never wanted to spend time with him, it was why his parents have never let him go to school, they always said they were protecting him, and now Adrien knew exactly why…

They just did not want him to realise how bothersome he was.

It was why Ladybug… why she-

Prrrrr Prrrrrr Prrrrrr

The alarm interrupted his jumbled thoughts. Adrien sighed. Getting out of bed was also becoming the most strenuous task each day.

“Are you going to turn that off so I can proceed to sleep?? I was in the middle of eating this amazing piece of camembert” Plagg grumbled, his nasal voice still thick with sleep.

Adrien turned to his side and with a heavy hand, he grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm, the missed texts from Nino not going unnoticed. He just couldn’t find any strength to engage in any conversation his best friend was starting. Not that it mattered anyway, he would probably only bother him and then Nino would just get sick of him just like everyone else did. Just like Nino already had with Chat Noir. And Adrien didn’t want that. Adrien would never want that. He had lost too many people already, so he might as well try to save the few relationships he still has, even if he must keep them at arm’s length. It’s still better than nothing, right? Even if that crushing void of loneliness was growing inside him every day.

It was with an increasing effort that Adrien finally managed to get out of the bed, his limbs feeling like lead. He walked to his bathroom, not noticing the black blob staring right at him with downcast eyes and dropped ears.

After going through his usual routine, Adrien just stood in front of his mirror checking for any imperfection that might put him in trouble, like he did every day. A paler, skinnier version of himself looked right back at him with heavy dark bags under vacant eyes. His lower, chapped lip trembled slightly, but he quickly managed to get a hold of it, the same couldn’t be said for the lump that had settled itself in his throat for a couple of days now. Adrien suddenly broke eye contact and fumbling through the top drawer, without really looking at it, without really looking at anything, he finally felt the familiar shape of his concealer. And with a professional mannerism, he applied it on every imperfection, carefully moulding that sickly looking boy in the mirror into the face of the Gabriel brand.

Breakfast was, once again, all by himself, and Plagg of course, but he had to remain hidden in case anyone was to suddenly enter the dining room. For some reason, Adrien kept staring at the main door to the room, still hoping that his father would appear just to spend some time with him before school, but as usual, no one interrupted the suffocating silence that was becoming more and more unbearable each day. He even found himself hoping that Nathalie would appear, in all her stoic presence, with her tablet in hand to inform him of his schedule, even though he was perfectly aware that she was currently bedridden for some mysterious illness everyone was trying to hide from him.

He missed Nathalie, he still heard her every day through the tablet, but it wasn’t the same. At some point, his mum would only speak to him through a tablet when she got so sick she couldn’t leave her bed, and no one dared to explain to him what was happening.

The sight of his food got blurry as Adrien blinked back the tears that were threatening to escape. He took a deep shaking breath to fight the nauseating wave that crushed him. Once again, his appetite was absent, he sneaked the cheese under the table for Plagg and with that, Adrien went to the car, to start another day.

School was… School used to be the highlight of his everyday life, it was finally something Adrien had fought for and won. His first ticket to freedom. School gave him a chance to finally live in the real world, outside the four massive walls that made up his bedroom, and that for the longest time, had been his whole world. But now it just seemed pointless.

For the first time since he started attending public school, Adrien was actually feeling on edge at the idea of going there and meet his friends. His stomach was constricting itself, accentuating the ever-present nausea that had settled since that day, and the feeling seemed to worsen at each kilometre the car got closer to the building.

Do they also think Adrien is annoying? Do they also rant about him behind his back? Is that why Marinette doesn’t seem to stand being around him for too long? They have talked about it, and she assured him that they were friends. Marinette has done a lot to help him, like convincing his father to let him go to New York. But again, she does help everyone she knows. Of course, she would help him, even if she finds him annoying. Marinette is that nice.

How should he act around them? The knot on his stomach was becoming unbearable. How was it that he was feeling hot and cold at the same time? That there was this electric sensation running all over his body and making the tips of his fingers go all fuzzy, while his chest was beginning to burn as well. The lump on his throat was making it hard to breathe, no matter how much Adrien gasped for breath, it seemed that no air was reaching his lungs, which were blazing with the effort. Oh, God! Is this how he’s going to die? At the back of his father’s limo, on his way to school? His face felt wet for some reason. Was he crying? Why was he even crying?? He’s so ridiculous, crying for no reason whatsoever. This was the reason why everyone seemed to get tired of him fast, he was just an unstable mess. Why would anyone want to deal with that??

“…rien…” Adrien felt something press against his cheek.

“Adrien!” Apparently that something was Plagg. Thank goodness the divider was up so Gorilla couldn’t see the shameful pity party Adrien was throwing at the back of the car.

“C’mon kid, breathe with me…” Plagg was floating right before his eyes, taking deep exaggerated breaths so that Adrien’s sluggish mind could follow his request.

Emerald eyes connected as Adrien’s trembling breaths evolved to more stable ones. The knot on his stomach was starting to untie itself, although Adrien knew that it would never go away completely. He was used to it anyway. He blinked rapidly, successfully containing the tears that had started to leak during his episode.

“Adrien…” Plagg rarely used his name, “Maybe it’s better that you stay home, you can still ask Gorilla man to turn back…” Plagg was looking at him with concern, sad eyes and dropped ears complementing his worried expression. He hated that he was the cause of it. He hated that he was dragging everyone down with him.

He shook his head wildly, not trusting his voice to sound secure. He had to go to school. How would he even explain why he skipped school? His friends would ask, his father would ask, and he really didn’t have the energy to come up with any excuse. Adrien just had to pretend everything was alright, he was used to it, pretending was as natural as breathing for him. Even if it was becoming harder and harder each day to seem detached by everything that was happening to him lately, not that he would ever tell anyone what exactly was happening to him lately.

Shaky fingers searched through his messenger bag, looking for the small mirror he carried with him almost all the time, along with the concealer that for sure had been washed down by his ridiculous crying.

Once again, Adrien hid all his imperfections and insecurities behind a fresh layer of concealer.

“Adrien…” Nino was talking to him. When had he left the car and entered the classroom? The blackboard Miss Mendeleiev was writing on, was filled with fresh formulas, of a different subject from the last lesson. Which meant that they had already gone through the correction of homework and had started talking about a different thing. When had they done that? Adrien was in the car, having just barely recovered from a panic attack, and now he was in the middle of Physics class. The time between those two moments was lost to him.

A nudge on his left side made him flinch.

“Woah, dude, calm down, it’s me!” Nino whispered, while defensively raising his hands.

Trembling lips curved to form a shaky smile. It was the best Adrien could do for now.

Unfortunately, said smile didn’t seem to be enough to reassure Nino, as the latter raised his eyebrows in concern, silently asking Adrien if everything was okay. Adrien nodded quickly, his eyes immediately drifting to the blackboard ahead, putting an end to their silent conversation. He should try and pay attention to the lesson anyway. Physics was his favourite subject so it shouldn’t be hard. He could at least pretend to be paying attention to class. Adrien was getting sicker and sicker of pretending…

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #ml season 4 spoilers #hope you like it #tw panic attacks #depression references

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amysteriousmessenger · 3 years

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‘As The World Falls Down’ - ‘Danger’ Ray x Reader Fic

Based lightly on ‘As the world falls down’ from Labyrinth, Reader attends a midnight ball, but all is not as it seems.

Word count: 3.4K Rating: SFW CW: Elixir, drugs, cult behaviour, creepy Ray, forced Elixir Reader: Gender neutral Disclaimer: this isn’t how I actually think the Elixir would affect someone but I wanted to keep the fairytale aspect to the story!

Reblogs appreciated!! <3

_______________________

‘You’ll drink it, right? And then you can stay here with us forever. We’ll never have to be apart.’ Ray said, the blue bottle sitting between his half-gloved hands. He seemed nervous, but eager for you to have it. You’d already told him that you wanted to stay at Magenta and be a part of Mint Eye with him, hence he had brought you the Elixir that everyone was required to take to cleanse themselves. You wanted to stay, but you had seen the effect that the liquid had on Ray, but you were a little bit tentative to actually put it to your lips.

You’d grown such tenderness and genuine affection for Ray, and you were leaving behind a life that you didn’t really care for, so why would you not want to stay in Mint Eye? You nodded, reaching out your hands to take the bottle from him. He smiled, but the smile did not match the emotion in his eyes. There was a sweetness to his lips, but an intensity and darkness to his gaze that was… unsettling to pinpoint.

‘A-ah… It won’t hurt, right?’ You asked, taking a seat on the side of your bed. The colour reminded you of those sugary isotonic drinks that you saw teenagers drinking outside of schools or on the weekend, but you were certain that it was not the same liquid.

‘Maybe just a little…’ He started, ‘but I’ve flavoured it to taste like peaches, just for you. You’ll be happy with us, a place where you can truly belong. Don’t you want to stay with me? To feel held?’

You did. Though you’d come here by chance, you’d found people who longed to feel loved and needed. The life you’d left behind was nothing compared to the one that could lay ahead for you, and yet, why were you so scared to take the final plunge?

‘Okay…’ You took the heart-shaped bottle from him. You watched Ray as you uncorked the bottle, feeling somewhat as though you were about to drink the poison from a fairytale or a movie. But of course, surely this Elixir was nothing like that. Ray wouldn’t do that. That smile of his meant no harm. He cared for you and wanted you to stay with him at Magenta.

The first thing you noticed after opening the bottle was the heavy scent of peaches, Ray really must have poured a lot of nectar into the Elixir to cover up its original smell, which burned your eyes. Perhaps smelling it wasn’t the best idea. Perhaps drinking it wasn’t the best idea. You were hesitant, but it was the only way you would get to stay with him. You took one more glance at Ray, who stood in front of you smiling in all his princely attire, before pressing the bottle to your lips.

Instantly, the Elixir overwhelmed all of your senses. Though it was seeped in peach flavourings, it did little to cover the burning sensation it left in your mouth and throat. It was like drinking nail varnish remover, or pure gasoline. It hurt. You choked, spluttering slightly into the back of your hand.

Ray handed you a glass of water, smoothing out your hair and assuring you that the pain will pass. It was all part of joining Mint Eye. You had to purify yourself of the person you were before you entered Magenta. It had to happen in order to find true salvation with the Savior. You continued to choke on the liquid as you felt it hit your stomach. Did Ray… really drink this every day? How was he even still standing? No wonder he looked so ill all of the time.

The longer it was in your stomach, the worse you started to feel despite Ray’s reassurances that you would be okay.

‘Ray, I don’t feel too good, I think I’m gonna…’ You barely finished the sentence before your head started to spin. Your eyelids fluttered shut in an attempt to ground yourself and focus on sitting upright, but to little avail. You began to fall back onto the bed, but your head never hit the pillow, so that the last sensation you felt before the slumber took over you was the sensation of Ray’s hand supporting your neck and shoulders.

‘I have you, my Princess. I’ll never let you fall…’ He whispered as you began to lose consciousness. He mumbled something else that you couldn’t quite make out, but it sounded awfully like ‘For anyone else.’

You woke up, or at least you think you did. Nothing was real, and yet, it had to be. You were already on your feet, being guided down the maze of corridors. Everything was a daze, and it felt as though you were dreaming, yet you could have sworn that the footsteps you were taking felt undeniably real. Illuminated only by the cloaked men carrying candles, you caught a glance of yourself in a mirror on the wall and gasped. You hadn’t really had the chance to process much since regaining your consciousness. It hadn’t occurred to you that the clothes you fell asleep in were not the ones you had woken up in.

The dress was huge: white and crystallised. It was something from a fairy-tale, beautiful from everyway you turned. As soon as you realised you were the one wearing it, you couldn’t believe you had missed it in the first place. It took up the entire lower half of your vision with its endless layers of silk and satin. You paused at your reflection, trying to take in as much of the detail as you could in the dim lighting. The sleeves were great cream-puffs of fabric and the tight corset held your torso rigidly in place. At any other time, you might have complained about the confines of a corset, but it felt as though it was holding you together as you lost grip on everything else around you. The dress was somewhat bridal, but the princess aesthetic far outshone that of a matrimony. You carried your eyes upwards, giggling slightly as your face warped in the mirror and you pawed at the heavy necklace that sat over your collarbones.

Your hair had been done too, littered with small star pins which sparkled against the mirror. Those weren’t yours, you didn’t own anything like that, so how had you come to get them? In the haze of half-consciousness, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you reached a wavy hand up to tap your fingertips along the hair pins, as though to make sure that they were really there. They certainly felt real, but nothing felt real. The textures were all wrong, the colours too bright. There were so many of them and they were so beautiful that you wished you could take them out of the dream with you whenever you woke up.

A cough resonated from behind you, it was the cloaked Believers who had been leading you through the corridors. They did not raise their eyes to meet you, but stared downwards as the one on the left said; ‘Your presence is greatly anticipated.’

‘Who?’ You asked, bewildered as to the fact they were talking to you. For some reason, you had assumed that they couldn’t speak. Were they real?

‘Yours.’ The other one deadpanned.

‘Me? Mine?’ You responded, confused.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh.’ Well, they must have been real! You stumbled slightly over the front of the dress as you moved to follow them. You hadn’t even thought to ask where you were going. Really, it hadn’t even occurred to you that there was a destination, you had simply found yourself walking with them and continued on the journey they had been leading you on.

They brought you to a pair of heavy, ornate doors. Some thought lost within your brain told you that you recognised the door, but you couldn’t find the connecting memory to remember where the doors led to. You attempted to ask them but found that your reverie had taken your voice. You swallowed thickly and remained silent until the door opened. They ushered you in with a ‘For Paradise’ before leaving.

The sounds of life were the first thing to reach your diluted senses. Bursts of music unlike those you had heard within Mint Eye before reached your ears. It was rich, elegant music only achieved with live instruments and talent. It was overwhelming to have so many of your senses assaulted at once, so it took a few moments to gather your bearings. Your eyes began to focus on the surroundings and you slowly realised you were in Magenta’s throne room. Yet, you had never seen so many people gathered in here. The room of people seemed to dance and spin, mingling in their cliques and couples. Masks of all told tales of trickery, of lust, wealth, and status but few bore of identity or name. There were so many masked faces, with each masquerade domino covered in a thin layer of black crushed velvet which absorbed any of the light cast upon it. You were the only one without a mask, yet you had not woken up with one so you could not be to blame for the feeling of exposure. At least, that was what you told yourself as each masked face followed your shaky steps.

A blonde woman smiled at you, offering you her hand. Her mask was slightly different, your eyes were a little too fuzzy to make it out, but it looked as though she had a little decorative side pieces and sequins, setting her apart from the other guests. You knew her, but you could not place exactly how in that moment. Her warm smile made you want to trust her, so you had no reservations in taking her outstretched hand and following her lead. The blonde woman pulled you through the crowds as they parted for her with each step she took. They parted even before she got near to them, making sure she had plenty of space to walk through. You had to watch your feet as they walked so you didn’t stumble over the both of you, consciously kicking the front of the dress so the material didn’t drag along the floor.

‘Ray… You shouldn’t leave her lost like this. I don’t want to see my lambs running astray.’ The blonde woman said as she suddenly stopped walking.

‘You’re right, my Savior… It won’t happen again.’

That voice. Despite your delirium, you knew that voice. Ray.

You had no control over your own movements but watched as the woman moved your hand from hers to Rays. She seemed satisfied with the exchange and, before returning to the party, added; ‘See to it that it doesn’t.’

‘Y-you look beautiful. I chose your dress myself; I hope it is to your liking.’ He stuttered slightly, though tried to feign the confidence of his Prince Charming aesthetic. You followed his voice upwards until you reached his face and notice that he was also wearing one of the black masks. Like the blonde woman, Ray’s domino was a little different to the others: it was the same black velvet but this time it was stitched with the same silver thread that adorned your dress. The small stitches swirls along the right-hand side of his mask, occasionally catching the light when he turned.

He looked at you with such intensity that your felt your heart begin to race. Cinderella had found her Prince.

You opened your mouth to try to reply to Ray, but your voice had yet to return so no noise actually managed to make its way past your lips. He smiled, seemingly understanding the fact you couldn’t speak. Perhaps that was why he was smiling.

You noticed that the music had changed, and people had started to dance in couples with one another. Ray seemed to notice it too, but he did not look surprised. If anything, he seemed expectant. Ray turned and picked up a small flurry of flowers from the table behind him. Oh, what was the word for that? A cottage…? College…? Corsage? Corsage! You were glad to have found the correct word as Ray tentatively slid the flowers onto your wrist and tightened the ribbon. He hummed along to the new song, watching with pride as he watched you inspect the flowers.

‘I chose them from the garden just for you. Would you like to know what they are? These are red roses, which symbolise longing and desire. Those ones are Jonquil, they are like very small Daffodils and there are many of them as My Savior favours Daffodils, so I keep them in the garden. They mean reciprocation of affection. I find them rather sweet; they grow in clusters and yet… they yearn for love…’ He trailed off, lightly tapping the petal. ‘Finally, these ones are yellow Hyacinth, in Floriography the meaning differs depending on the colour, but these ones… They mean jealousy.’

Ray didn’t really give you the time to mull over the meanings he had told you before he once again swept you up with a different conversation.

‘My Princess, might I have this dance?’ Ray bowed, smiling with one arm crossed over his chest in a princely manner. You nodded, giggling at a somewhat over-dramatic curtsey you had attempted to do. My, what an idyllic dream! You didn’t wake to wake up, reality would never be as sweet.

The Ray you knew was never usually so calm, collected. You knew him as a nervous, over exhausted, and a little bit flustered. The Ray of your dreamy reverie was more calculated in his movements.

Ray’s gloved hand took your bare one and the other slipped around your waist. You’d never attempted to ballroom dance, but little mattered in an illusion such a this, so it wouldn’t matter if you were to miss a step or two. You placed your hand over Ray’s shoulder and lifted the arm he was holding to match his stance.

There's such a sad love Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel Open and closed Within your eyes I'll place the sky Within your eyes

A space parted for the two of you on the dancefloor as you noticed people seemed to move for Ray in the same manner that they did for the blonde woman. Ray seemed a little bit nervous to lead, but his grip on your hand told you that he was determined to keep you in his arms regardless of whether he knew the steps confidently or not. Knowing Ray, he had memorised them again and again.

Through his mask, his blue eyes were dedicated to your face, neck, and the enveloping of your hand and his. It was as though he couldn’t get enough of the sight of your hands intertwined like that together. You felt the hand on your waist begin to guide you gently as he took one step forward, then another back: pulling you with him in beat to the music.

You lost yourself to your thoughts and to the music. He looked like a prince and- did he say he had picked your dress himself? He had dressed you like a princess. It seemed fitting, since he already claimed you to be one, and had decorated your room as though you really were one. His own personal Princess. You had to be dreaming, nothing that felt so beautiful could ever truly be real. You had to wake up at some point or another.

There's such a fooled heart Beatin' so fast In search of new dreams A love that will last

After a moment, you had to snap yourself out of your own thoughts and focus on being led. Ray had indeed memorised the steps to the dance, and apparently had memorised your steps too since he guided each movement of yours, possessing your body in the dance as though it was one with his own.

He spun you around, grinning as he watched you spin again and again, as though you were just a small Ballerina in a decorative music box: dancing on command whenever the box was opened. Ray pulled you in to a dip, holding on to your back and not really letting you support yourself, which you did not mind. It was hard to control your own weight in dreams, everything felt so weightless and floaty that you somehow praised your own illusion for making everything seem so realistic. Within your heart I'll place the moon Within your heart

Slowly, your stomach began to churn. Maybe in your dream, you were still not one for dancing. You felt as your breathing got a little heavier by the moment as the colour started to drain away from the room. People were no longer dancing happily in beat as they had once done, they stood; scared and tense, watching as you turned to face them one by one. They were masked and cloaked, for sure, but they were not enjoying the party. They were moving closer.

The grand music you had heard was no longer playing, and the weightlessness you felt turned to breathlessness as you felt the true tightness of the corset around your waist. The heaviness of so many layers of satin, lace, and silk grounded you to the floor and made it impossible to move, let alone run, like your feet were willing you to do. Cinderella would not leave the ball tonight.

You had to ask Ray, he wouldn’t lie to you… Would he? This was your dream; you could control what happened! Why was it turning into a nightmare?

As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you

‘R-Ray… What’s going on…?’

Ray’s face suddenly changed. He broke off the dance and stood still for a moment, watching as you tilted your head in confusion and a glimmer of fear. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the same blue liquid you had drank before falling asleep. You shook your head, not wanting to feel the sickness that came with such a commitment. He seemed both disappointed and dissatisfied with your reluctance. You couldn’t stop the shaking that had started, heavy tremors that wracked your body to the bone.

‘Ray… did you not use the correct dosage? See, look how the poor child suffers. You don’t want to make her leave, do you Ray?’ The same blonde woman from earlier said. You frantically turned, looking to find her face, but she was just a faceless voice in the blurring crowd.

‘No, my Savior.’ Ray said, grabbing one of your wrists. He didn’t squeeze tighter than necessary, but it was more than apparent that you were not escaping his grip any time soon. There was a desperation to it.

‘Then do it like I instructed you.’ She said. Ray swallowed and nodded, popping open the cork to the bottle with his freehand and pressing it against your lips.

Every thrill is gone Wasn't too much fun at all

It took a moment of coughing and spluttering for the wrongs to right themselves again, as Ray took the bottle away from your lips. The overwhelming flavour of peaches filled all of your senses and choked you. Whoever said that peaches were a symbol of family and unity had never taken a bite of one so infected. The sweetness was a danger in itself, it hid the darkness laying within. Sugar-coating it. You hadn’t noticed the burn of the Elixir as much this time, probably since you weren’t really drinking it. It fell down your open throat and pooled as poison into your stomach.

‘You’ll be happy with us, my Princess…’ He repeated as you held your throat and coughed. You were dizzy, so dizzy. The room seemed to spin and, if it were not for Ray’s chest, you would have fallen forward onto the ground. You wheezed onto him form, squeezing your eyes shut until the pounding in your chest and head began to even themselves out.

But I'll be there for you As the world falls down

When your eyes opened once more, the colour returned to the room and the music resonated throughout each nerve ending in your body. The room was alive once again and you could feel it. Ray was looking at you and smiling. You were still dreaming; the clock had not yet struck Twelve.

Falling As the world falls down

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger x reader #saeran #saeran choi x reader #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger reader insert #mystic messenger hcs #mystic messenger hc #mystic messenger self insert

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beigehearts · 3 years

Text

Part I, The Awakening

so im in love with Ran Haitani i might not even get to any requests with the way im feeling so please bear with me. ill be writing fics to make myself feel better and that is all thank you for your understanding

TW / CW // unedited, violence, intense descriptions of gore Word Count: 2.7k

You find yourself in an alley. It's dark and dingy and smells something like rotten food and dead rats. It's a full moon tonight, and it shines brightly through the faded clouds. Snow is trickling down, so lightly that you would miss it if you weren't looking for it. You're laying in the snow of this revolting alley, laid out as if you're trying to make a snow angel.

How did you get here?

It's so cold that your fingers and toes have practically frozen off of your body. So numb, so cold, so alone. You sit up and look around; you can hear your bones creaking as you move around. Now that you're thinking about it... Who are you?

You stand up, ignoring the pain and aches of your body. You can't remember how you got here. You can't remember why you're hear. You can't remember even a week ago. Your mind is a blank slate and it makes you want to scream. Nothing. You remember absolutely nothing.

But you can't stay here. You're already one foot in the grave but you refuse to lay in it. You rub your arms and shiver. You're wearing nothing but a sports bra and some pajama shorts.

buzz buzz

Ah, a phone. You begin walking out of the alley and pull the phone from your pocket.

Addy

where are you??

are you okay???

I'm about to call the police

please answer

I'm worried about you.

sent at 2:04 am

That's not the only missed message. There are two others from who you can assume are friends. And a bunch of missed calls from those same friends.

It's 2:05 am on December 31st, 2007.

For some reason the date just feels wrong. Something about it just feels off.

There's an empty street with shops lining it, all of them with lights off and doors locked. You amble down it and are glad that you can't feel your toes. All you can feel in your bare feet is the crunch of the almost frozen over snow.

Maybe you'll be able to find something on your phone. Your cracked and slow smart phone opens up and you scroll to the maps app. The most recently searched address is 682 白桃通り. Alright, so that's where you'll go. Hopefully you can get out of this cold and warm up some.

You follow the directions, bearing with the 35 minute walk it directs. All of your limbs are starting to go numb, all of them feel like they'll fall off at any moment.

It's an apartment complex. You walk through the empty lobby and take the elevator to the sixth floor. 682... 682... Ah, here it is. The door has a large crack straight down the middle, and the doorknob is barely hanging on.

Hesitantly you push the door open and peek inside. You find the light switch and close the door behind you. The place is completely destroyed. The couch is flipped over and television is laying flat on the ground. Most definitely it will not be able to work. The walls have small holes in them... Bullet holes. There's blood splattered across the walls and the furniture.

But it's warm. So warm. You find the bedroom and hurry inside where it's even warmer. You rush to the bathroom and gape at your reflection.

Your nose is blue, there are icicles hanging from your eyelashes... The rest of your face is beat red and as you warm up it begins to burn. But that's not the extent of it. Your left eye is swollen, it's practically pulsating with it's black, purple and blue color. Your lip is cut down the side, you can see the flesh clearly as the skin splits.

You look down at your hands aimlessly and wonder, just where have you been? Your hands are the same color as your swollen eye and your knuckles are, blood smeared all over them.

As you examine your body, you begin to feel the pain setting in. Stinging hands, aching face, burning toes… It looks like you put up a fight with whatever happened. That thought alone seldom brings you comfort.

You look through the drawers of the bedroom, finding a sweatshirt and some sweatpants along with fuzzy socks. You waste no time in rushing to the shower, basking in the burn of the water and the aching of your sore muscles. The water runs brown and red, staining the shower tiles with it’s hideous color.

Once out of the shower you tend to your wounds. The cuts on your torso and face… But this bruise on your eye is only going to get bigger and swell until the point that you can’t see. You stand over your bathroom sink and grab a knife from the kitchen. Ah yes, here comes the worst part. You bring the knife up to your eye and try to stop the shaking of your hands.

This is necessary you remind yourself. You press the end of the knife into the wound, creating a decent sized slit in it. Immediately blood begins pouring out of it, blinding you as it stains your bathroom counters. Once it stops gushing by itself, you squeeze the rest of the blood out and put a bandage over it after disinfecting it.

After cleaning up the mess that looks like a murder (for the most part), you put on your clothing and jump right into bed. You definitely deserve a nice rest in this comfortable bed. After having done some sleuthing around the apartment, you realized that it’s yours based on the pictures hung of you and your friends. Not to mention the mug with your name on it.

Having the front door busted open and unable to be locked is a bit worrying but it couldn’t possibly get worse than it is right now. You wake up in the morning to the sound of pounding on your front door. Though it doesn’t really mean much because they burst into your house. What is up with people breaking into your house?

You sit up and squint at the suspects who enter your bedroom. There are two intimidating men who make their way over to you. One is an incredibly tall man, Wearing a black kimono of sorts that has something written on it that you can’t quite place. He has dark brown hair that’s pulled back into a single braid. On the side of his head is a dragon tattoo that you think must have been very painful to get.

The other man is much shorter than him, he has cropped black hair that covers his eyes and wears a tank top with a loose zip up sweatshirt.

“Looks like you’ve been busy.” Says the taller one with a chuckle. Though despite his words you can see worry in his eyes.

You look towards the shorter man and squint. He looks so tired, and so rundown. He cocks his head to the side and sucks on the lollipop hanging from his lips. “What the hell happened?”

They must be your friends, that’s the only way this makes sense. You stare at your hand and feel your mind go blank, because you’re asking yourself the same question.

The shorter one looks up at the taller, “Draken…”

He nods at his friend, knowing what he’s asking. The black haired one leaves the room and goes to investigate the torn up living room and kitchen.

So his name is Draken. He sits next to you and places a gentle hand on your knee. He furrows his brows and looks at your face, hoping for answers in just your expression.

“What’s going on?” He asks quietly.

You barely missed being shot… That you can remember but it’s more of an intuition than it is memory. You can hear the whizzing of the bullet by your ear and the loud blow of the gun, deafening you.

You look up at him and shake your head, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“What do you remember?” He coos.

You shake your head more vigorously this time, “I don’t know! I don’t remember it! I don’t remember anything!”

His eyes go wide, “What do you not remember? How much?”

You shrug his hand off of your leg and find yourself yelling, “Nothing! Fucking! Nothing! I don’t even know my own fucking name!”

Draken stands up and holds his hand out to you, “We call you Bruiser…”

After that they swept you from your home and plopped you on the back of 'Mikey's' bike. You were taken to Draken's house, he lives in an apartment above his bike shop. Draken leads you through the building with his hand resting on your back.

You sit down on his futon and they settle down as well. They called some people and instructed them to come over. Now you're wondering if you're with friends or enemies. You assume they're friends but how could you ever be sure when you don't have any memories?

You down on some convenience store onigiri, realizing just how hungry you are. The hunger is painful, and your body feels weak.

Someone enters the room and you look up from your food. He's tall as well, with long black hair and narrow eyes. He storms through the room until he's directly in front of you, looking down at you with his sharp gaze. When he opens his mouth you see that his teeth are just as sharp as his look.

"Bruiser what is going on?" He growls out, seeming angry. But he's purely concerned.

Instead of answering you take a bite of your rice snack. He smacks the triangular rice from your hand and grips your jaw. "What happened?"

You grab his wrist to pull his hand away but you're just not strong enough. "Fuck if I know! Who do you think you are?!"

He grits his teeth and how he answers you sends you into silence.

His lips press against yours roughly and your eyes shoot wide open. His kiss is rough and so are his lips, and something about it is familiar. He steps back and examines you for a moment.

You open your mouth to speak but close it. But then you open it again, “Are you a fucking idiot?”

Laughter echoes throughout the room, everyone but you finding this funny. Mikey wipes a tear from his eye and shakes his head, “We we’re going to wait before getting to that point, Baji.”

Huh? What?

You stand up from the bed and shoot a cold look at Baji. How dare he kiss you without asking or waiting for your consent! You raise your hand and bring it down fast, leaving a red and stinging mark on his face.

That laughter trickles out, and turns into an uncomfortable silence. But you don’t have to deal with this… You’re not sure what kind of life you were living but it doesn’t matter, your dignity is more important.

You gather up your belongings, (a jacket, phone, some onigiri, wallet, keys) and storm out of the bike shop. You can tell that something in that room changed when you slapped Baji, a light and fun atmosphere turned dark and heavy.

You don’t bother with looking at your phone or asking for directions, you’ll end up wherever your feet take you. Where they lead you to is another shop… well actually it’s not a shop at all, it’s a bar. You check your phone, 5:45 pm. That’s plenty late enough for a drink.

But before you enter you gaze up at the neon sign. It’s a lit up pint of beer that’s being tipped to the side. The white of the foam is begging to tell you something…

An image flashes in your head, a man being held up against it. He’s held up by nails in his hands and feet, plastered up there for everyone to see, like a tourist attraction. Blood drips from above, dripping onto the sidewalk and leaving a thick puddle.

But it’s only a fleeting image.

You enter the bar and look around hesitantly. It’s some rich type of bar where the booths are surrounded by tinted glass and the tables have complimentary shot glasses. You’ve definitely been here before. But the layout of the place is bugging you. Somethings off.

You earn yourself some looks as you find an empty booth in the very back of the building. It’s smaller than the others, the others can fit six to eight people but this booth can only seat two to four.

It's not exactly as bumping as a bar/club usually is. Sweet oldies play quietly while rich groups of people sit together, sipping of martinis and laughing in 'rich'.

It really is beginning to bother you, immensely. Everything seems so familiar but so foreign at the same time. It's as if the décor has been changed around a bit but holds the same aesthetic as what you can remember. What is it? What feels so wrong about this?

You're too lost in your own thought to realize that someone has entered the building and taken a seat not far from you. He's surrounded by other men who take quickly to drinking. They seem out of place but their demeanor is very comfortable.

After a few drinks (maybe a few too many) You set down the stack of money that resides in your pocket. Who are you to have so much cash stashed away in your pocket? Maybe a prostitute? That would explain why that man kissed you before. Baji.

Time to go home, you're pretty sure you remember how to get home even in this drunken state. Apparently you're a woman who can handle her alcohol, good to know. You find yourself skipping down the empty street of the usually bustling town. Everything seems to shut down at night, leaving it as a ghost town.

There's something so freeing in being a reborn human. While it's frustrating, it feels like you can be anyone or anything. No regrets to weigh on you, no trauma to destroy you, and no memory of the people who have most certainly used you. It's so freeing.

Snowflakes begin descending from the sky, brushing over your clothes and leaving the tiniest of wet spots. It's just like that night. Yesterday night. It seems like so long ago. But this time you aren't half naked and freshly beaten. The moon is shining so brightly that it's almost blinding even through the clouds heavy with snow. You've realized you need to learn to appreciate the small things... In just one day of your new blank slate life, you've had a lot of realizations.

Appreciate the small things. Your past doesn't define you. Perseverance is key. Life is fragile and short... all cheesy realizations you would hear a villain from a kids movie say. But those realizations are a lot for a person with no memories. Right?

Behind you there's the crunching of feet on the cold snow, following not too far behind. Once again your thoughts have consumed you and your senses, leaving you oblivious and defenseless.

The perpetrator begins gaining on you, until he's only steps away. Something else that you didn't know is just how fast your reflexes are. A hand reaches out to you and you duck, swinging your leg to knock the person off of their feet. But they easily evade your attack by jumping over your leg like a skip-it.

You jump back and hold your fists up, ready to fight whoever it is.

In front of you stands a tall man with fair skin. His hair is parted into two sections, black braids that hang over his shoulders. He's wearing a black outfit that makes it hard to see his physique but you can assume it's muscular and lean. But it's his eyes. Yes.

Cold, lifeless eyes that peer down at you as if you are no more than a pathetic bug. Yes. That's what it is. That's exactly what it is.

A long stick, cracking into the back of your knee and you fold. You're hit over the head with it but barely remain consciousness. That baton... Why are you remembering a cold and heavy baton assaulting you when you look at this man?

He puts a hand on his hip and cocks his head to the side, "Why are you alive Bruiser?"

#ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #haitani x reader #baji #baji x reader #mikey #draken #tokyo revengers #part 1 #the awakening #tokyo manji gang #bonten

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thestyleswritings · 3 years

Text

Fix You

"We talked about something you said to me a while ago." She says, tone short. He couldn't tell if she was angry or if she was being shy about something.

"Well? I'd love to hear what I said that you're still thinking about months later and talkin’ to your therapist about, baby." The hand that lay stationery on her thigh squeezed a bit, encouraging her to talk to him.

"You said something about making a baby with me. Haven't been able to stop thinking about it." She muttered, biting her lower lip. His whole body went rigid beneath her at that.

Or - The one where you have depression and Harry leads you in the right direction, and then some

(6.1K)

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Mention of Mental Health Issues, VERY brief mentions of suicide, Language, Possible Breeding Kink(??), Smut (at the end)

Masterlist

I wrote this in one night,,, shout out to mania.This isn’t even what I was working on. I don’t know if this is something that many people will want to read but it definitely brought a smile to my face to write. Do I need therapy? Probably. Will I ignore that and continue to escape my own mind through fiction? Absolutely. Reblog/Like if you enjoy!

Harry knew she'd been struggling for a long time. It wasn't like her depressive periods lasted very long when they happened, maybe around a week or so, but when they hit, they hit her hard. He'd asked her when they first started dating, years ago, why she never invited him over and why she always went to his place, and at first she didn't want to tell him. It was embarrassing to her that she sometimes got into these periods where she didn't even want to lift her head from the pillow, let alone tidy up her flat.

Harry eventually went over to her place once she felt comfortable enough to let him. She knew he wasn't going to judge her, and she knew all he wanted was to help her feel better. He stayed at her flat for hours the first time he came over, helping to fold the laundry she had done days before, dusting the bookshelf, clearing out the refrigerator. He'd joked they were a perfect match since he loved to clean up while listening to music they both loved; it relaxed his mind. His love language was acts of service anyway, which he constantly had to remind her of. He didn't mind doing anything and everything in his power in order to alleviate his lover's stress. She had sworn to Harry she'd try her best to keep the place in tiptop shape, but he didn't actually expect her to.

He'd lost more than one friend to severe depression and he knew it was nothing to take lightly. Unfortunately, he also knew the signs to look for in suicidal people all too well. He could tell she had become moodier and spent a good bit of her day in bed either sleeping or just staring off into the void. She texted him that she was at home more and more, opting out of seeing her close friends for drinks or dinner. He hadn't seen her, either. It was all beginning to worry him deeply. He knew she'd have bad days, he'd signed up for that, but this was bigger than just a rough day. It had been going on for nearly two weeks and he knew he couldn't wait to address it any longer. He wanted to approach her tenderly. He was fearful that if he misspoke, she would shut down.

That's how he ended up at her door one evening, unannounced. He brought along two sunflowers, one significantly taller than the other. He'd seen them at the florist's downstairs and they made him smile to himself. They were her favourite flower, and the posture of them reminded him of both of them. He hoped they would make her smile, too.

He didn't bother ringing the bell, fishing out the spare key she had made up for him from his jeans pocket. When he stepped through the threshold, his heart sunk. There were empty cups on the coffee table, and he knew that meant she wasn't eating. If she were, there would've at least been a bowl or two. In that regard, her untidiness was helpful. He could assess the situation before even having to talk about it.

He sighed deeply as he gently places the sunflowers down on the kitchen island, walking over to clear the short table in front of the loveseat. He could practically feel the pain she was in and he hated. He hated the fact that she had to be stuck with the short end of the stick. He walks the cups over to the sink, running the water over them for a moment before grabbing the sponge on the ledge of the sink to scrub them clean.

As he washed the cups, he thought of what he could say to her that would actually prove to be helpful. It wasn't easy to always have the right words when the person hearing them didn't care if they lived or died. He knew if he told her outright how upset he was seeing her this way, it would only serve to make her feel worse that she couldn't help it. He didn't want to force or therapy on her, but he really wasn't left with many options. He wouldn't lose someone else to this. He couldn't live with himself, nor without her.

He shuts off the tap and dries his hands on the cute yellow kitchen towel that was always draped on the cabinet next to the sink. With the flowers in hand, he cracks open her bedroom door. There are a few small piles of clothing around, t-shirts and sweatpants carelessly discarded based on the look of how everything was inside out.

The sight of her breaks his heart. She was curled up tight beneath her fuzzy blanket that he knew she only pulled out when she was missing him and his snuggles, facing the wall while her arm hung limply over the stuffed dragon he'd gotten her ages ago. He could tell she hadn't gotten up all day, that much was evident. All the lights in the apartment had been off when he'd arrived and there was a stillness to the air. She hadn't even answered his messages sent hours earlier. He thought the worst for a moment, frozen in place with wide eyes trained on her unmoving body before hearing a soft snore coming from her, easing his breathing exponentially.

He sits on the edge of her bed, placing the flowers with a shaky hand in a cup of water that had been sitting on her bedside table. He brings his hand up to the dip of her waist, gently rubbing up and down the length of her torso to soothe her awake.

"Wake up, bug. S'me. Brought ya a little present." He coos at her once he heard her intake a large breath, reaching up to tuck her thick hair behind her ear. He could tell she hadn't washed it in a few days and made a mental note to encourage her to shower with him. She stirred under his touch, like she could tell it was him even when she was deep in slumber.

"Harry?" She calls out quietly into the dark, feeling the warmth of his palm against her cheek. Had she been more awake and alert, she might've even been sheepish at her disheveled appearance. She already knew he saw all the empty cups on her table that had once been full of tea and coffee. She felt ashamed.

"Yeah baby, it's me. Can you turn around and let me see that pretty face?" He croons, removing the hand that had been stroking her hair.

She sighs deeply before turning over in her full sized bed, eyes focusing on the plush faux-down blanket beneath her. His hand slowly approaches her face again, this time grabbing hold of her chin softly to have her look at him. He smiles sadly at her. She knew that look. It's the same way her mother would look at her when she came into her room as a teenager. Pity, almost. It made her feel weak.

"Hello, my angel. Have you been in bed all day, lovie?" He dotes on her, running his thumb across her cheekbone. He knew the answer, he just wanted her to acknowledge it.

"Mhm. What time is it?" Her voice is hoarse, as if she'd been crying the night before. The sound of it deflated Harry's heart in his chest.

"S' a quarter til six, lovie. What time did you fall asleep?" He asks, leaving his hand on her face to cradle her soft cheek.

"Dunno. Seven, eight? This morning sometime." She replies, sighing at her own erroneous sleeping schedule. Harry presses his lips together silently, taking in her words.

"Alright. Well, I'm here now, so up you get." He requests softly. Softly enough where she doesn't find it demanding. He stands from her bed, holding a hand out to her.

"Did I hear you say you brought me something?" She asks as she sits up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. He chuckles at her, knowing that a huge part of her mental illness caused her to crave buying material possessions, only for them to mean nothing to her the very next day. It was something she was truly trying to work on.

"Yes baby, I did. S' on the bedside table." He informs her, waiting for her to turn and see them before he walks closer to her. She caresses the vibrant petals of the yellow flower, biting her lower lip between her teeth.

"I... I love them, Harry. Thank you." He can hear the tightness in her throat and he worries that he should've just not gotten them at all for a moment before he sees the genuine smile across her lips.

"I saw them and thought of you. Well, us, really. Don't they look like us?" He beams at her, and she sort of thinks she can see what he means. He looks like a sunflower when he smiles. He brings light and beauty into her life. Maybe that's why she found herself wanting to cry. Because she felt like she wasn't worthy of the human sunflower standing in her room.

"Yeah. They do look like us." She offers a smile, smaller this time now that she's thought about it. She wraps her arms around his middle, allowing the overwhelming feeling of warmth and comfort to consume her for a moment before pulling away.

"I should probably go clean off the coffee table, huh?" She says humorlessly, walking the way of the door before his voice stops her.

"I did it for you, baby. Why don't you come with me to have a nice warm shower? I want to talk to you about some things while we're in there anyway." Panic strikes her still; what did he want to talk about? Was he finally fed up? Did he find someone else, someone who could take care of themselves properly? Was that why he was being especially sweet on her? She felt like she could throw up. She didn't know how to do this without him anymore, and that alone scared her. It wasn't to say she didn't adore him for all that he does for her, she just wished he didn't feel like he had to. She wished she could get her mind well enough to care to do even the simplest tasks.

She nods her head and thanks him quietly for straightening up before walking into her bathroom and stripping down to nothing. She reaches into the shower to turn on the water and waits for it to get warm, as well as Harry. She didn't like the sound of wanting to talk, even if he hadn't necessarily said it in a menacing way. When he joins her, he follows her lead by taking everything he wore off. He didn't want to look at her body for too long and become distracted like he often did when he saw her, especially when he really saw her. She had soft features and her body was always so pliant in his hands. Though, he couldn't allow his mind to wander right now.

He gets in first, testing the water and making sure it was around the temperature they both liked before reaching for her hand and pulling her in gently. She expected him to keep some distance, so when he wrapped his arms around her from behind as they stood under the steady stream of water, she was a bit taken back. Was he being overly affectionate as a way to say goodbye? He places a few kisses to her shoulder before peeling himself away and grabbing her peach shampoo off the built-in shelf. She leans her head back to make sure her hair is all wet before allowing him to lather her hair with the sweet smelling soap for her. She always loved how he massaged her scalp with it.

"So, I know you might think I wanted to talk about something bad, but I promise it's nothing bad. I just want you to know that before you start making scenarios up in your mind." He speaks softly, matching the pressure of his fingertips in her hair. He sees her shoulders sag and he feels awful. She'd already started thinking of potential issues he may have wanted to talk about. He carries on by rinsing the shampoo out and repeating, creating a much foamier lather the second time around. He rinses it out for her by guiding her beneath the waterfall, following up with the peach conditioner.

"What do you want to talk about?" She whispers, enjoying the feeling of Harry's hands moving lower with her wash rag, scrubbing her limbs delicately as to not harm her skin.

"Well... you. You know how much I love you, yeah? Can't fuckin' live without you, you know? Hurts me when we're apart for too long, or when we have to sleep alone. I, um... I just want you to be happy," he sighs. He prattled on a bit; his thoughts were jumbled and he didn't know how else to tell her this.

"I want to be able to know you're okay when I'm not with you, even if I want to be with you always. I know you're going through a rough spot right now, and I want you to have help. More help than just me," he's as gentle as he can be, and she appreciates it. It doesn't mean she wants to cry any less, of course, but she knows he has the purest intentions.

He wants her to thrive, not just survive. He knew he could only do so much for her before she had to start doing things for herself. He loved to baby her and take care of her, but not when he had to. He wanted to help her shower sometimes and feed her because he wanted to, not because she wouldn't do it herself if he didn't.

"Are you saying you want me to find a therapist?" She asks softly. She's not opposed to the idea, she just never found the strength to actually care enough about her own mental well-being to make an appointment.

"Are you okay with that? Would you be open to it if I helped you find someone to talk to? And maybe try medication? I know it's a lot at first, but it helps so many people. Just can't keep seeing you so sad. Hurts my soul, since we share the same one." He turns her around now to look at her property while they spoke. He could see the furrow in her brow, like someone was pinching them together with their fingers.

He saw the tears welling up in her eyes and his heart nearly explodes at the pout forming on her face. This isn't what he wanted to happen. He didn't want to make her cry. Her chin trembles as she tries her hardest to look anywhere but at his face.

"Oh, baby," he coos, wrapping her up in his arms once more, "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry, m'love," he kisses the top of her head, peppering them all around wherever he could reach. "M' just worried, baby. When I came in earlier it looked like you- I just, I can't imagine what I would do if-" he's slightly panicked now, she can feel his heart picking up it's pace. She didn't know that was something he worried about with her and it made her whole body ache.

"You didn't. It wasn't that. I would really appreciate if you could help me find someone to help me further. I'm crying because I'm hurting you when I don't deserve you in the first place," she sniffles, pressing her face further into the slippery skin of his neck. "You deserve someone who's whole, someone who you don’t have to worry about."

"Hey," he pulls back from her, holding both her shoulders so he can look her in the eyes, "I love you. So much that I'd die without you at this point. Just told you that. Please don't put thoughts and words into my mouth. I mean everything I say to you, don't let your brain fool you into thinking it's not true. When I tell you I love you, please know I mean that with everything I have and everything I am. I'm not whole without you. I worry because I love you so much that it would kill me to lose you," His voice is soft yet firm all at once, conviction filling his tone.

"Promise?" She asks weakly, knowing what he's telling her is the truth. Her brain tended to sabotage her.

"I promise." He kisses her lips, backing her underneath the water once more to rinse her off before reaching behind her to shut off the water. He steps out before her, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her short body.

"I'm going to make something for us to eat, angel. Come sit with me at the counter so I don't get lonely?" He asks once they're both dressed. He wore her sweatpants and t-shirt while she wore his Christmas themed pyjama pants with his Spice World hoodie.

"You want me to?" She can't help but wonder why he wants her to be around him so much. She knew he loved her and they'd been dating for almost four years, but she found herself to be a buzzkill. She just exuded sadness, she thought. Harry scoffs at her playfully, rolling his eyes. He knew she couldn't help but doubt herself, but he still found it absurd. Of course he'd want to be around her all of the time. She was so accepting and loving, even if she didn't think so. She was good.

"Obviously, angel. Always want you within two feet of me. As a matter of fact, I wish you were pocket-sized so I could bring you everywhere with me until you got sick of seeing my big dumb head." He smirks at her, making her genuinely laugh. She hadn't done that in a while.

"You're such a dramatic nutter." She laughs, pushing him away from her so she could walk into the kitchen to find a stool to occupy.

"Me!? Were you not the one that cried because you couldn't stop thinking about The Hunger Games?" He comes in behind her, smacking her ass playfully in retaliation of her push before quickly walking at least an arms distance away from her.

"That's literally not fair? Finnick deserved so much better than that. You cried when we watched it together too, fucker!" She explains even more dramatically than he had been in the first place, as if he hadn't been there too. He chuckles as he opens her refrigerator, kissing his teeth when he finds nothing defrosted to cook. All she really had was oat milk, a bottle of homemade cold brew and a few cups of yoghurt.

"Fair enough. I'm going to take this chicken down so we can make it tomorrow, but since there's nothing else, do you wanna do Japanese?" Kicking the door closed as he walks closer to her with two water bottles in hand.

"You know I can never say no to Japanese. I'll order it," she offers, but he's already shaking his head with his phone in hand.

"It's on me. We're eating food you bought tomorrow, s'only fair. I wanna know what else you could never say no to? Like maybe... moving in with me?" He says without looking up as he places the order, already having her favourite meal saved on his phone, along with his own.

At first, she doesn't react. She doesn't move a single muscle, not even her eyes. He doesn't take her stunned silence personally, waiting for her to process what he'd just offered. He can practically see the cogs turning when he looked at her.

"You want me... to live with you... in your big beautiful mansion of a house..." She says slowly, turning her gaze to his own. He exhales a laugh at the flabbergasted expression on her face.

"Yes, baby. Told you I'd bring you everywhere with me, and we've been together almost 4 years, known each other 6. I don't know about you but I'm ready to wake up to your face every day." He smirks once more, reaching out to tucker her hair behind her ear like he always did. He just wanted to see more of her pretty face.

"You- I... Harry. You know what? Yeah. I will." She had began to refuse before catching herself. This was a normal next step in a long term relationship. She wouldn't sabotage this. She was a better version of herself when she was with him, and they made each other happy.

"Yeah? You will? I'm so happy baby, thank you. I'm tired of waking up alone and missing you every day. It's dumb." He tackles her in a hug, attacking her with a million kisses. He doesn't bother holding back the few happy tears he sheds, he doesn't care and he knows she doesn't either.

—

He had proposed to her the day she moved in, after she unpacked her last bedroom item and found a place for it. It was the silly green dragon, who now lived between two puffy pillows on their shared bed. He'd had the ring burning a hole in his dresser for over a year and he couldn't stand it anymore once he saw how at home she'd made herself. That, and he wanted to make love to her while she wore the sparkling diamond.

Something about the visual prompted him to drop to his knee behind her instantly.

It had been a year since she moved into Harry's “big beautiful mansion of a house”, and they were happier than ever. She was seeing a therapist that she enjoyed, someone whom she felt comfortable with. She had also begun taking medication. The first few prescriptions weren't right, but Harry encouraged her to keep trying different things and held her hand along the way. She finally found the one that matched her chemistry, and it worked a treat. She could focus on things better, and she had the energy to do so many things that she would even go on the occasional run with Harry. It was amazing for him to see her in such high spirits. It was like the her that only he could see was finally free, brightening up the world around her. More importantly, she could finally see herself that way, too.

A few months after she said yes, he had said something to her that she couldn't shake.

"Wanna make babies with you."

He'd said it to her in passing, staring at her with hearts in his eyes as she sat on the grass in the garden. The sun was hitting her skin so beautifully and she just looked so radiant. He couldn't help it. It had just slipped out.

She brushed it off at the time, but now it was all she could think about. She had even told her therapist about it. While the older woman seemed excited for her, she still asked if that was something she'd want. If she'd even thought about it.

And truthfully, she had thought about it before. A lot. She's thought about Harry rubbing her tummy, kissing it and singing. She's thought about them falling asleep together when the baby is finally born. She's thought about how much of a daddy's girl they'd have, if it turned out to be a girl. She's thought about how if he babies her this much, she would love to see how much he'd baby their real baby. She's thought about how much she and Harry would love their shared creation. She’s thought about how much more love it could bring into their lives.

She'd arrived home from a session one day after work to find Harry peacefully reading on the couch in the soft yellow light of their living room. She took a moment to admire him from this perspective before making her presence known. Jingling her keys a bit harder than usual, making his head turn in time to watch as she hangs them up before shedding her coat and walking over to the back of the couch.

"Hello, my love." She coos, rubbing her flat palms against his chest. She kisses the side of his face a few times and he grabs hold of her hands, clutching her closer and enjoying her warmth.

"Hi, lover. How was today? Work was alright?" He lets her hands go with a kiss so he can dog-ear's his page before shutting his book, giving her his undivided attention. She rounds the couch and decides to sit on his lap, looping her arms around his neck. His hands automatically shift to hold her waist.

"Work was the same. People are obnoxious and rude. What can I do? Session went well too. Talked about something I've been thinking about a lot." She looks down at him, tracing her finger subconsciously against the silver chain he never took off. She can't help but smile at how pretty her lover is, making him reflect the same expression.

"Want me to go down there and give them a talking to? You know I'd do it." He glares playfully, furrowing his brows and puffing his chest. She laughs softly at his silly demeanour. It's one of the things she loves the most about him.

"Shut up. Annoying," She laughs, hiding her face in his neck. He laughs with her, dropping a hand to one of her thighs to smack it lightly for her comment, ultimately choosing to leaving it resting there.

"That's you. Anyway, what did you talk about? Is there something bothering you?" He asks, ignoring the way her brow raises at him for calling her the annoying one. They had such a lighthearted relationship. It filled them both with joy.

"We talked about something you said to me a while ago." She says, tone short. He couldn't tell if she was angry or if she was being shy about something.

"You said something about making a baby with me. Haven't been able to stop thinking about it." She muttered, biting her lower lip. His whole body went rigid beneath her at that.

"You've been thinking about it this whole time and didn't say anything?" He questions softly, looking up at her with loving eyes. She nods her head, looking off to the side to gather her thoughts.

"Yeah. I... I really want that, Harry. I already promised to love you forever when I said yes, and you make me so much better. I can't imagine how amazing you'll be as a father. I, um, I also stopped taking my birth control a few days ago." She spoke with confidence. She knew this was what she wanted, and she could tell he did too. There was something in the way she spoke about it that made him stand with her in his arms.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to put a baby in you?" He speaks boldly, almost matter of fact. He wasn't asking, he was confirming. She says nothing, choosing instead to nod furiously.

He beams at her, bringing her all the way to their bedroom before sitting her delicately on the bed. She rolled her eyes at that; it's not like she was already pregnant. He catches the look and reaches to her shoulder to shove her on the bed with an eye roll of his own.

"Better?" He mocks, grinning from ear to ear at her shocked expression. He takes his shirt, that was actually her shirt, off along with his joggers before clambering on top of her.

"You're such a knobhead." She laughs, taking off her own shirt. She didn't feel like waiting.

"A knobhead that you want to come in you. A knobhead that you want to father your children!" He exclaims jokingly. She can't help the grin on her face, pulling his chin until their lips met. Her grin evaporates when she feels him practically rip her skirt off, alongside her flimsy thong. She gasps at the feeling of his fingers on her, rubbing over her slit ever so gently. Feeling how wet she was for him.

"Were you thinking about this on your way home? You're fucking drenched." His voice had lost all sense of humour, acquiring a certain gravel to it that only served to make her wetter. She only nods, kissing his lips in a pleading sort of way.

"You want my baby this bad, huh? Want me to make you a mummy? Want to make me a daddy? S' that it, angel?" She couldn't take it anymore. The sound of his voice was driving her insane and she had checked if she was ovulating this morning and found out she was. It was like her body was demanding for him.

"Yes! Yes, lover. Please? Want it so bad," Harry felt his heart warm at the tone of her voice. He knew they called each other lover in bed when they were feeling too romantic, too lost to the moment. In a good way. She was truly desperate to try for a little person with him. Quickly, he rolls them over so she's sat atop him once more. He kisses her immediately, bringing his hand down to dip his fingers into her now sopping wet hole.

She choked on a gasp as she felt him slide two in, curling them at the joint to apply pressure exactly where he knew she needed it. He took advantage of her head falling back, attacking her neck with tender love bites and kisses. His other hand roamed around her stomach and back for a bit before reaching for her chest, tweaking her nipple between two slender fingers. Her jaw dropped when she felt his thumb land on her clit, circling hard and fast.

"God, Harry! Fuck," she could hardly breathe at the efforts her lover was putting in. "Yes! Yes," her praise was quiet, but it fuelled him regardless.

He was always an attentive lover, but something about his actions were nearly feral. Like he couldn't get enough, no matter how much she gave him. He would always want more of her. More sound, more taste, more feeling. He wanted her to always evade and overwhelm his senses. He moans at her noises, along with the feeling of her clenching around his fingers.

"C'mon, lover. Come so I can put our baby in ya," he breathes against her neck, licking any patches of skin he can reach. Her eyes roll back at his words, crying out for both him and God.

"Tha's it, lover. Good girl," he whispers huskily, slowing the movement of his fingers and moving the other hand to hold her body even more tightly against his. When he can feel her body shuddering, he pulls his fingers from her and sticks them in his mouth, sucking them clean in a filthy way.

"Please put our baby in me," she requests in a small voice with a smile, tears streaking down her cheeks. She was so overwhelmed by him and by the prospect of what they were doing that she started crying happy tears. His smile is worth everything to her in that moment, pulling his face up for a kiss.

"Yeah, lover. I'll do that," his voice is tender, like his touch. He kisses her as he lays her body beneath him again, stopping for a moment to take in her form. Her body was so gentle and relaxed after he'd made her feel good, and he couldn't help but kiss her tummy. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her hair was starting to frizz, but she'd never looked better.

This wasn't by any means the first time they'd had sex without a condom but it was, however, the first time they'd done it without her taking birth control.

The rational part of their minds knew it wouldn't physically feel any better, but they couldn't help the buzz around them at the thought.

He kisses her neck lightly as he grasps himself, tugging a few times to make sure he was nice and hard for her. He knew he was already rock solid, but he wanted to be extra sure. This was important. When he pushes into her, his eyes roll to the back of his head. She grits her teeth at the feeling of being so full of her lover, digging her nails into his side.

He pushes the rest of the way in, taking a pause there for a moment. He could tell he was pressed against her in a delicious way from the look on her face. His hips started to create a rhythm they could both enjoy; deep and hard, slow and passionate. They were making love, after all.

"G'na be the best mum, fuck, I know it," he pants into her ear, leaning his body further into hers. She whines into his hair, lifting her hips off the bed to get closer to him, even if it wasn't possible.

"You're- oh my god, fuck! You're gonna be the best dad, you already take, oh shit, take such good care of me. Such a good lover,” she can tell her voice sounds fucked out, but hell if she gave a fuck. He squeezes her hand in response, kissing her neck again. He felt himself get hotter at her words. The way their bodies collided could be heard in the thick air around them, filling their ears with beautiful music.

She could hear it in the way he moaned in her ear that he was so close. She was, too, just at the thought of him filling her up with possibly more than just nut. They could get a baby out of this. Her eyes roll back as she practically howled in pleasure.

“Please come, please I wanna feel it,” she begged as she lost her mind, repeating her chant.

“Oh my fuck, yeah, baby. Finish for me first, lover. Good fucking girl,” he praises her, kissing along her collarbones as he fucked her through her orgasm. He was so close he could practically taste it, but he had to say something first.

“I love you, angel. I’m gonna love you forever.” His words are broken up between moans in her ear, making her cry out with him. She was so sensitive that when he let go and shot into her, she came again.

He could barely move once he was spent, dropping his weight to his elbows and laying on top of her chest, which was moving rapidly along with his own.

He kisses the skin beneath him as she plays with his hair, both too dazed to say anything.

She’s the first to break their silence when she tells him she loves him too.

“‘M bloody glad you love me too, or else it would be pretty awkward for us to have a baby together.” He mutters sarcastically, not even having the energy to lift his head. It was like she sucked out his soul and he needed 2 to 5 business days to get back to being functional. She’d have to call Jeff and let him know the bad news.

“You’re a dork. But, I wouldn’t choose anyone else to do this with. You helped me through the worst days and showed me what I could be. I owe you everything.” She cards her fingers through his hair, speaking softly.

“I resent that, firstly. But I’m proud I get to be this person for you. You’re everything to me, so you don’t owe me a thing. I’m just happy that you’re getting help for yourself. It’s not an easy thing to do, and I’m proud of you. Extremely fucking proud.” He had turned his head to where his chin was poking at her tummy so he could look at her face.

“I’m happy I took your advice. Outsourcing help doesn’t make you weak, it makes you strong. It shows that you can pull yourself up and realise you have a problem, you know?” She tries to explain it, but he knows. He’d been telling her all along. He even went to therapy.

“Yeah, baby. I’m happy you’re here with me.” He says, and she knows he meant here, alive, not just here with him at that moment. She holds onto him a little bit tighter.

“I’ll always be here. I need you too much to go anywhere”

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#harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles blog #harry styles smut #harry styles dirty #Harry Styles #boyfriendharry #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry 1d #1D FanFic #1dff #1d fic #1d imagines #masterlist #mobile masterlist

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ayellowcurtain · 3 years

Text

Can you write about Marti maybe getting his moms mental illness and maybe Nico helping accept that he has it.

He thought a lot about the day he would go back home. Martino is not sure if for the right reasons or not. He made himself think as much as possible about it in an attempt to not make himself anxious when the day finally came. It’s very easy for him to slip into an overthinking headspace when any change is about to happen. Going back to Rome, home, shouldn’t feel like a big change but it does after almost a month away with very little to no news from his friends. It was his choice but going back is like walking in the dark.

After a lot of therapy, and a lot of medication, his mom suggested for him to spend his holidays somewhere else, to clear his head and relax and give himself time to breathe and heal whatever he was struggling with, never able to put it into words to his loved ones. Martino didn’t want to go anywhere, obviously, but after his and Ni’s break-up, he thought it was for the best to give everyone some space and time away from him.

He would also spend way too much time and brain space stressing if Nico was already looking for someone else and so he needed to be unable to run into him any time he went somewhere.

Nico is a single man now, no matter how much it bothers Martino deep down, and he can do whatever he feels like doing with anyone he might be interested in.

“Here is your sweater, Martino.” His grandma puts it on top of his zipped bag like it will magically open and like this old lady was magically reading his mind. It’s Ni’s sweater that maybe Martino stole after one of their last nights together.

Their break up was a conscious decision they made together. Martino needed to take better care of himself and he thought Nico would be better off without having to deal with his own problems and Martino’s as a heavy plus. He wasn’t doing well and he didn’t want to pull Nico with him.

It doesn’t mean that they don’t love each other anymore, and it doesn’t mean it was easy to say no to one last night together.

“It’s like in the movies. The break-up sex.” Ni whispered against his lips with a sad smile, soon brushing them softly against the already warm and sensitive skin of Martino’s neck. He was so dumb and so cute and Martino was still so in love.

He slept wearing the sweater and pretended to forget he should leave it behind when he left Nico’s place the next morning without saying goodbye. They’re still friends but Martino thinks it’s because they’re physically apart from each other. Living in the same city again might make things change very quickly. In the back of his mind, Martino can’t help but be hopeful they can get back together in the near future but he knows it’s selfish for him to pick when they can or can’t be together so he’ll try to keep things normal.

“I washed it.” His grandma explains without being asked, pointing to the dark blue sweater still sitting on top of his bag.

“Why would you do that?” Martino frowns, looking at her, suddenly feeling his heart race and shrink with the thought that Nico’s smell is gone.

“What are you talking about? It was smelly, you used it every night to bed, I had to wash it. It was smelly.”

He bites his tongue not to curse, finally holding it and smelling it. The sweater that Martino’s brain pretended still smelled like Niccolò now smells like freshly washed clothes that were dried in the very hot, midday sun.

He’s going home, he’ll see Nico soon but the lack of his smell in a dumb piece of clothing makes a lump almost close his throat, and Martino closes his eyes not to cry.

Martino opens his bag and shoves the sweater inside, putting most of his weight on top of the bag to close it again. He says goodbye to his grandma and thanks her for letting him stay there for so long, he’s sure he wasn’t the easiest guest. She shrugs like it was nothing and gives him some snacks to eat on his train ride home.

While he’s sitting on the train by himself, Martino finally grabs his phone from the pocket on the side of his bag. It’s fully charged after a month of very little use. Martino forced himself to stay away from his phone as much as possible and Nico started this dumb tradition of sending his letters instead. He wasn’t completely offline but he’s sure whatever information of everyone he got through Nico’s letters were more or less filtered to not overwhelm him.

Everyone knows when he’s coming home because Martino told Nico and he told him he didn’t mind if the information got spread out because he knew Nico would have a hard time keeping that part to himself. So as the train stops at his station, Martino starts to worry a surprise-welcome-home party will be waiting for him at his mom’s place.

He holds his bag tighter and walks slower than usual, trying to prepare himself to pretend he’s fully recovered if the party is the actual case. He doesn’t want to make his friends feel bad for doing something he’s not ready to enjoy just yet.

Martino stops a few meters away from home when he doesn’t find any sign of a party or his friends but a huge bouquet being held by Nico, checking his phone every few seconds, walking from one side of the door to the other while waiting.

He only finds Martino when he stops a few meters away from him to not scare Nico too much, smiling, trying to ignore the blush that he knows is staining his cheeks, his whole body overheating with anxiety.

“Hi…”

“Hi! I didn’t know what time you would be coming home exactly so I decided to wait outside.” Nico acts like they haven’t spend a whole month without seeing each other, being broken up. Martino is thankful, even though he knows Nico is not doing it for him, he’s just being himself but it’s nice to have a sense of normalcy right away.

“You could have gone inside to wait...I’m sure my mom would be happy to see you.”

Nico looks over his shoulder and lifts his eyebrows, pointing to the building.

“Oh! I saw her. I went up to say hi and tell that I was here, but I...wanted to wait for you here.”

Martino smiles and nods his head, looking at the bouquet and Nico follows his gaze.

“Welcome back, Marti!” He says quietly but excited, finally offering Martino the flowers. Martino puts his bag on the floor and holds it carefully, surprised by how heavy it is and how good it smells.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted you to have a good first day back.” Nico stands on his tiptoes for a second, not sure what to do with his empty hands now, putting them inside the pockets in his jeans.

Martino touches his pockets until he finds his keys, unlocking the door and holding the door open for Nico to follow him inside.

The walk upstairs is quiet but not heavy. Martino leads the way, and Nico offers to carry his bag and Martino doesn’t argue. He can feel Nico staring at him and he wished he had more time to more himself more presentable after a long train ride, but there’s no coming back now.

“How were things around here...since I left?”

“Good...boring.”

He steps out the stairs, looking at the empty hall leading to his door and he feels his nerves floating around his stomach in antecipation. Martino waits for Nico to step out of the stairs and he just moves forward, kissing Nico without saying anything first, putting his hand in the back of Nico’s head, pressing their lips tight against each other, no room for second thoughts, Marti just wants to really enjoy this long second.

“Sorry...sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry. I disappear for a month and then just kiss you out of nowhere. Sorry, Ni.”

He looks down and holds his flowers tighter, but Nico’s contagious laugh echoes around the empty hallway.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Marti. If you haven't done it, I would have.”

“Really?” Nico nods his head like that’s the obvious answer, lifting his eyebrows again, still smiling, “I thought that you had moved on.” Marti tries to explain his line of thought.

“Why? You broke things up but I never believed you. You needed time and I said okay but it doesn’t mean I just suddenly don’t want to be with you and kiss the first person I see the second you’re out of my sight.”

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just that a month is a long time and I said I didn’t know when I was coming home.”

“I wasn’t in a rush. I would have waited for as long as you needed me to.”

Martino steps closer again now that he knows that he can, resting his forehead against Nico’s, smiling when he does, gently caressing his fuzzy cheek, happy to have Nico close again.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Marti. Let’s go inside, your mom was making us some delicious pizza.”

Martino lets Nico lead the way like he’s going home too, always looking back to see if Marti is following him. It’s funny that he needs to check because Martino would follow him anywhere.

#skam italia #martino rametta #niccolò fares #martino x niccolò #nicotino #skamit

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keeper-not-hero · 3 years

Text

MY THREE HUMANS AND MY THREE TROLLS ARE FINALLY DONE BEING THOUGHT ABOUT AND ARE NOW PLACED INTO THE WORLD FOR YOU TO ENJOY READING ABOUT, Massive post under read more!!!

[Obs: These ain’t kids. They’re all in their early 20’s tho.]

Gatolt Osbizb (name means nothing. = Muse of Doom.) -

Looks: Hair that goes down to her shoulders, curly and surprisingly well groomed. Skin (and body) made up of tiny chunks stitched together. Fingers, hands, legs, slightly different shades of grey, with seams colored with the multitude of different blood types beneath. Blank eyes, shirt and pants. Simplistic dress code.

Personality: A hodgepodge of Troll flesh, bones, and a few cybernetic enhancements all stitched together into a singular being. Goldblood, purple blood, violet, and more. Both of her eyes are blank (though she can still see thanks to cyberoptics), and she is usually in at least a mild amount of pain due to the strain of her body barely being able to keep itself together. Despite all that, she tries to act cheery and tries to be the life of her friend circle, though not always with success. And besides, she rarely tries to mingle outside of it, feeling unwelcome in other circles.

Constantly requires maintenance which she usually does herself, and… fresh replacements. Her creator fucked up in making her, which means she is now slowly yet constantly rotting away, to the point every part of her body except the brain and enhancements are different than her first resurrection. Her girlfriend, Bakhus, usually helps with gathering ‘replacements’. She feels like a burden due to her condition that sometimes leaves her bedridden for days, which makes her stay quiet and sometimes even enable her friends’ bad habits, because she doesn’t want to be a drag. Hates the fact her whole life revolves around her condition. Likes gardening and clockwork.

Bakhus Gredui (Greedy Bacchus / Dionysius. = Thief of Void) -

Looks: Hair that goes all the way to the floor and a few feet behind her, greasy, messy, and dragging food bits in it. Tank top with her sign (Sign of the Brazen) on it, suspenders and oversized clown pants. Juggalo make-up messy and somewhat faded, droopy yellow eyes, usually with a hunched stance. Very, very tall, and extremely strong - with some healthy weight to her body to go along with it.

Personality: A purple-blood that represses her kind and motherly urges under liters and liters of Faygo. A chef at heart and a great cook from years of experience, she constantly throws barbecues and small carnivals on her massive garden, which attracts lowblood and highblood alike. Her festivities have become small gathering spots for those who wish to mingle with the upper / lower classes despite their own status, and for spies of both the Condescension and those who oppose her. Bakhus is, of course, too busy grilling to mind that she has accidentally created the perfect neutral spot.

Despite her cooking prowess, the Faygo inhibits both her ability to feel much empathy or care about the taste of her food. Deliciously cooked and prepared meals placed near overly-sugary, soggy, Faygo-drenched pretzels. She carries a massive cookbook alongside her massive pot, which has recipes that certain blood types enjoy, and… recipes made out of said blood types. She has no qualms cooking violets and reds, and sometimes will go so far as to grab Faygo-drunk trolls in her cookout and take them inside to ‘rest’. They’re never seen again.

Also keeps a small spice garden. Gatolt usually takes care of it, with whatever isn’t used to cook as fertilizer. Occasionally, she sends the butchered corpses to Marciu. Who also happens to be Gatolt’s creator.

Marciu Shelli (Like, y’know. Mary Shelley. Frankenstein’s author. = Seer of Space) -

Looks: Short hair, think Eridan, but with no streak. Scrawny to a fault, and clearly underfed. Big scientist glasses with special prescription lenses, white lab robes that hide his starving figure and his left hand gloved with thick, hazmat-suit-like protection. The right one is a prosthetic, indigo tubes and wires trying to replicate the sensation of the original with… some success. Pointy nose, sharp teef.

Personality: Anxious, skittery and, quite frankly pitiful even for an indigo blood, Marciu spends most of his days either robbing graves for corpses or putting his ill-gotten gains to use in his laboratory. Deeply resentful of feelings he has about himself, he buries them deep within him and, to make sure no one can say he is valid or try to empathize with his pain, keeps pushing himself further and further down the hole until he pushes everyone away. Having lost a hand to a nasty accident involving a bone saw and a few too many of Bakhus’ spiked snacks, he also has a mechanical replacement.

A master of biomechanical engineering, he constantly creates half-troll, half-machine abominations to help him around the lab. Rotten servants just barely able to move their joints with hollow eyes and faces, mechanical hearts pumping blood and fuel throughout the system. Still, despite his best attempts at being as repugnant as possible, his friends still cling to him.

Except Gatolt. Gatolt has actively tried to kill him multiple times, being stopped only by Bakhus’ eternal kindness to the weirdo that occasionally gives her “aged” ingredients. Also, his human friends.

[Why does he have human friends? Idk, Pesterchum + machines or AU where humans and trolls live in the same world after a few Sburb/Sgrub/Swhatever versions playing out after homestuck and Lord English being gone.]

Bert Kairos (Albert Einstein and his whole relativity stuff + Kairos, a greek concept of time. = Mage of Time.) -

Looks: Very short and very curly hair. Dark skin, both legs missing, though one has a very unpolished, simplistic metal prosthetic to help him stand in one foot. Right arm missing too, half of a prosthetic attached to it,cut off at the elbow from an accident. Hasn’t bothered replacing it yet. Blouse with a robot symbol and shorts, chin stubble. Brown eyes.

Personality: A gentle soul who makes more time for everyone else than he ever did to himself. Spending literal days away from his parents’ home, staying in his makeshift workshop creating toys for the kids on his street and to help the people of his community. Lost both legs and an arm from accidents with heavy machinery and cars that he work repairing to make a living, usually for meager scraps out of the kindness of his own heart and the belief that it’s all part of a greater plan that he barely gets enough to survive, relying on crutches and Marciu’s prosthetics that often break because of even more accidents due to his very precarious working conditions.

He dreams of one day being able to inspire people, though. A big, endless machine of silly, simple delights. Not curing the world, not controlling the weather, a machine with the same utility as a painting. A machine that could cover the entire world in its width and length, proof that humanity can do anything if it just bands together. A wish that sometimes consumes his mind as he spends hours on end, instead of sleeping, building small moving pieces that will hopefully one day help fill this whole. This magnificent machine he will make to help mankind flourish through its artistic value, that they will sing his name in praise for generations, that mankind will be uplifted until we don’t need work, money, barriers, differences, just a homogenous mass streaking across the cosmos with machine brilliance.

But, he has way too many people to take care of, so he never dabbles on it too much.

Andy Eissuh ( :) - Lord of Life) -

Looks: Blonde hair tied in a manbun. Bushy stubble beard all over his face. Smuggest fucking grin you’ve ever seen. Blue eyes. Average height, an air of superiority that is as annoying as it is believable due to how he carries himself; like an untouchable douchebag. White tuxedo and business pants, y’know, like a doctor. Right? He’s even got the white cross! Yeah, sure, that sounds right. Like he cares about proper dress code for doctors.

Personality: A very, very, very bad doctor. A very bad doctor that has just enough good reputation and far too much money from their family to let their pretty much 100% patient loss rate slip without anyone being able to pry into it. Patient comes in, body bag goes out, and nothing ever leaves the hospital. The one time he actually saved someone was by accident, and it was a botched (and misdiagnosed by him) liver transplant where he accidentally removed the appendix instead of said liver, forgot to replace it, and the patient recovered in a short while with the help of the nurses from what he later learned was appendicitis.

Believing himself to be able to do no wrong, with a chirpy, colorful yet aggressively passive personality, he keeps his friend group around mostly to dispose of the bodies without many questions asked, and so he can feel better than the pathetic wretches he considers them. Completely blind to his irredeemably cruel medical malpractices, which he didn’t even study for, he simply bought his way into a degree because he “could feel it was my destiny.” Soft, sweet, and completely unhinged. Finding great joy preying upon the insecurities and naivete of his peers, which he feels is a breeding ground to use and abuse them for his own needs. Shoulda been smarter if you didn’t wanna get taken advantage of, duh!

Cain Pyrite (Cain the first sinner + Fool’s Gold. = Rogue of Light. ) -

Looks: Hair slightly above his shoulders, dark and greasy. Sickly pale skin, beeg librarian glasses. A nice fuzzy coat, plus shirt, plus jeans. Eye symbol on his coat. Looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in weeks, which, yeah, is absolutely right. Gentle smile, though it occasionally cracks into a nervous attempt at hiding… something!

Personality: Dedicated to… no, OBSESSED with preserving occult and ancient knowledge. Scrolls from ancient alchemists, bones of kings, relics thought long since lost hidden on the back of his seemingly normal book shop. Spending most of his days with no clients, he occasionally gets someone who is aware of his darker inclinations. He is always happy to trade knowledge for knowledge and artifact for artifact.

Only, not always the originals. No. Never the originals.

Always finding a way to spin a story and make sure that he can spot out any fakes, he builds his collection of convincing lies, and hidden truths. Friends with the others since grave-digging always inherits some fun and interesting things, and his appetite for the esoteric and forgotten is only comparable for his taste in interesting and unique foods.

#oc #long post #homestuck #Enjoy!!!!!!!! maybe idk #they're all horrible peopl #who will one day get better...#if i ever fucking WRITE my fanadventure #or... the dream #manage to turn it into a fancomic with someone

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kiame-sama · 4 years

Text

Love? - Inosuke x Reader fluff

One must love the feral boar boy in all of his confused and boisterous glory. Bless that absolute mess.

Alright, same as always darlings. Inosuke is aged up and not a child, so no worries there.

Warnings; Inosuke is confused, cuddle moments, cute moments, hashira love to tease, Zenitsu.

~~~~~~

The crisp morning air left a thin sheen of icy droplets on the grass, a signal that winter would soon come. For now, winter was far out of (y/n)'s mind as she lay against the warm blankets, face pressed into the pillows. It was so comfortable and inviting that she just didn't want to get up and start training for the day. Perhaps she could call it a sick day..?

The thought was tempting as she burrowed down into the pillows before something suddenly registered to her. There was another figure pressed against her.

Reacting as any sane person would to a bed invader, (y/n) screamed and immediately kicked them off with both legs. There was a loud thump that followed paired with an equally loud shout.

"What the hell was that for!?" "Why the hell are you in my bed!?" "It got cold!" "That's not an excuse!" "Don't tell the Great Inosuke what he can and can't do!" "Get the hell out of my room!"

This was no odd occurrence interestingly enough. Any time it was cold at night, Inosuke would sneak into (Y/n)'s bed to 'share warmth' as he put it, but he would never sleep in the same bed as anyone else. He could only be found exclusively in (Y/n)'s bed, much to her absolute annoyance.

The two would often scrap and dance around each other, not unlike how it would be among two animals meeting for the first time. Everyone knew who they were at this point since they were typically what woke everyone in the morning. They never missed a day to go after each other.

But to be honest? They were the number one ship among the demon slayers. Even the Hashira shipped the two and were just waiting for them to stop screwing around and get together already. It was like watching a comedy where the two main characters were painfully, obviously in love, but they damn well don't see it.

As the day progressed, they did their usual routine of dancing around each other and arguing. Training with one another but refusing to actually hurt each other. It was clear Inosuke held back when facing off with (Y/n), and (Y/n) held back when facing Inosuke.

But something was bothering Inosuke and he just couldn't put his finger on it. A thought had been dinging around in his skull for a while since he heard the word being used. Surely the others would know what it means. Especially the hashira.

"What can I do for you, Inosuke?"

The insect Hashira smiled in amusement at the feral boar who sat in front of her, not showing any anger in response at being interrupted. Obanai was less pleased and Tengen admired the flamboyant way Inosuke entered the room.

"What is love!? Gonpachiro was talking about it and he said I love (Y/n)! Is it an illness?"

Shinobu couldn't help but chuckle at the stressed and confused words of the odd boar. Obanai, however, let out a long sigh while glaring.

"Did you finally figure it out? Damn near everyone has been waiting for you two to shut up and get together already." "Together? Do we have to fight!?" "No, idiot. Just get in a relationship with her already." "... Relationship?"

It was then Tengen decided to step in, being the one with the most experience in that department as he had three wives already.

"Do you feel different around her?" "Always! All these fuzzy feelings like I don't want to be mad at her and I want to keep her away from everyone else!" "Would you like to stay with her?" "Of course! She's as strong as Gonpachiro and she is soft!" "What if she didn't want to be with you and wanted someone else?" "I'd fight them and win her back!" "That's love, or in animal terms, a mate." "Oh."

It finally dawned on Inosuke what he was feeling for the woman he had grown to adore. A mate? Did he want her as his mate?

Yes. Yes he did.

"Then, I love her!" "Well, go flashily tell her! I'll even go with you! Something as flamboyant as a declaration of true love needs an audience!"

Shinobu and Obanai got up as well, wanting to see just how the feral boy decided to declare his love and to see the one ship everyone had come true. Lord knows, everyone had been trying to drop hints to get them together- even Master Kagaya tried- but the idiots refused to see it. Maybe once Inosuke and (Y/n) got together, everyone might have a peaceful morning.

(Y/n) was out in the yard, smacking Zenitsu upside the head to try and dislodge the crying and begging blond. He clung to her uniform and whined loudly, refusing to let go.

"Get the hell off!" "Please, (Y/n)! I'm gonna die! I need to know what marriage feels like before I do!" "Piss off!" "I don't want to let go!" "I'll kill you myself!"

Inosuke's blood boiled seeing the rival male clinging to (Y/n). He was supposed to be doing that! So he has a rival now? He can deal with that! He is the Great Inosuke after all!

Within what seemed to be a moment, Inosuke was charging at the blond. It took no time for Inosuke to literally head-butt Zenetsu away, growling deeply and pounding his chest as he yelled at the dazed and upset slayer.

"Don't touch my (Y/n)!" "What do you mean, 'your (y/n)'?"

Inosuke's entire body went rigid at the sudden voice of the sweet female behind him, shivers running up his spine as he slowly turned to look at her, completely at a loss for words. (Y/n) was glad Inosuke got Zenetsu off of her, but she tried to cover her gratitude and desperation as she waited for an answer from the boar-man. She had feelings for that idiot, but she figured that he wasn't interested in that sort of thing, so she kept her distance and it didn't help that Inosuke was always clinging to her.

"Well?"

Inosuke was still in a state of shock and quickly looked around for any kind of support that would keep him from making himself seem stupid in front of (Y/n). Shinobu had her thumbs up and a sweet smile on her face, Obanai seemed bored and was probably frowning, Tengen was trying to whisper-yell advice to the poor boy.

"Tell her! There's nothing to lose! Be flashy about it too!"

The embarrassed feeling still filled Inosuke as he took a deep breath, turning back to face the confused and flustered woman. He wasn't good at these 'feeling' things, so he figured he should say it like he would anything else, even with his heart fluttering wildly.

"I don't like seeing Koshintsu touching you! No one but the Great Inosuke gets to do that!" "Says who!?" "Says me! I found out what all these stupid fluffy feelings are, and it's because you're supposed to be my mate! I'll fight them for you! I'll fight you! I'm not gonna lose, you will be my mate!" "..."

Inosuke's previous bravado completely deflated at your blank look, his tiny confused heart feeling like it was being stabbed with every second of silence that passed. The shouting had drawn several spectators from nearby, so now he had an audience to his embarrassment. He was ready to run before a warm hand resting against his mask made him freeze.

(Y/n) was smiling at him as she rest her hand on the forehead of the boar, gently moving her fingers in a petting motion. The display of affection immediately made Inosuke melt into a blubbering and confused puddle, holding onto her legs.

"You don't need to fight me. I thought you weren't interested in women... but, I'm really happy that you are. You could have just asked, and I would have said 'yes' to being your mate." "Wait, so are you not going to be since I didn't ask?" "No, dumb-dumb, I've always liked you... so... I'll be your mate."

Course, everyone let out a collective shout of 'finally' seeing as almost everyone in the estate had been attempting to get the two of you together. Inosuke didn't hear them, he was on cloud 9 and did not hesitate to pick up his new mate in both arms and immediately cuddle her close.

The warm feeling that filled his chest made him feel at peace and all fuzzy inside, unable to help the grin that overtook his face.

'So this is love?'

#kny #kny inosuke #inosuke x reader #inosuke #fem reader #sfw #fluff

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

Falling for you; Tom Holland x reader

*Author’s note*

And here we go with another fic this time I’m posting up a Tom Holland fic. So the premise of this is that you reader are the daughter of RDJ and have been chosen to be apart of Spider-man: Far from home. I won’t spoil anything else but that’s basic characteristics for you the reader. And like I said this isn’t the end. I��ll be posting some more fics coming up in the next little while.

Warnings: FLUFF, teasing dad!RDJ, injuries (falling off a wire).

Taglist:

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@dancingcoolcat

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

___________________________________________________________

It was like any other day on set. But being the daughter of the one and only Robert Downey Jr. the studio will treat you like royalty, even though I don't want to go to the extreme. And how did I manage to join the cast, well funny story actually for the next Spiderman movie Far from home Director Jon Watts wanted to introduce Peter Parker's new love interest, Carmen Dela Cruz otherwise known as "The Jaguar".

Much like the Black Panther character for speed and stamina, the Snow Leopard was introduced in Spiderman issue 312 number 2, a Latina character from Guatemala, she comes to America hoping to make a better life and save her family from a war that is going on so that they can make a better living in America.

She takes the mantle of "The Jaguar" when she was just 16 years old cause according to the comics, she was beaten and assaulted one night and left for dead but the spirit of the Jaguar warrior came to her and granted her the power and strength of all the jaguar warriors that came before her. She used her powers to get revenge on the gang that assaulted her and has vowed to protect any woman who is threated by assault. She's a protector of women and vows to never let anyone go through from what she went through.

She's teamed up with the Avengers in the past as well as Spiderman but you can see her majorly through the Black Panther comics as being a cat warrior herself, she looks up to T'Challa as a proud mentor and guide.

Now you may be thinking "AHH why another white-washing a character like this?" Well not true, cause you see my mom is actually from Guatemala herself, before my dad met his current wife Susan, after the divorce with his first wife, he met my mom and she ended up pregnant after a one night stand. But even after my birth, I've been constantly taken back and forth between both my parents even though they continued on with their lives and married different people.

But once I became 18, I permanently decided to stay near my dad's while I still visited with my mama. Now I have done acting in school and in college but this was my first breakout and my dad recommended me the part thinking I would be good at it.

So having seen Kevin and growing up with him ever since the beginning he and Jon both gave me a shot and after 2 callbacks, I got the part for Carmen and this would be her big debut onto the screen, as well as my own.

I was currently going over my new lines when I bumped into someone and that someone turned out to be none other than Tom Holland.

"Oh sorry (y/n)." He said.

"No, no it was my fault. Hey, did you get the new re-write of the script?"

"Yeah Jon just gave it to me actually, do you maybe want to go over some lines before we start filming?"

"Sure." We got together along the side and I said, "Can we go over pg.24 I'm having a hard time with that scene."

"Okay pg. 24 it is." We both opened our scripts to pg.24 and Peter first began his line. "What made you change your mind?"

"The same reason why I told you not to get involved with Mysterio in the first place. Maldito you Americans never listen to since or reason, particularly you white boys." I said in Carmen's thicker accent.

"You know, I think it's because you can't resist me. I mean twice in a row we've met you've saved me and always talked to me, even though you said this would be the last time you would."

"Don't be a fool, I'd never fall for someone as reckless as you, Spiderman. Anyone who listens to Stark is automatically a fool to me."

"Don't speak ill of Mr. Stark he is—he was the greatest man to ever live. He—he died a hero."

"I know he did, as did Captain Rogers." For this movie, Carmen always looked up to Steve Rogers as a child because he always knew what was best and he knew to never give up on a fight. He was her hero, even though she never got to meet him.

"Then tell me the real reason why you came and found me?" I turned towards Tom and seeing him so close to me, knowing that our character would eventually be together, but not by the end of this movie, I felt my heart flutter almost chanting out his name as I looked deeply into his eyes. I breathed heavily in character and turned away muttering incoherently in Spanish as it said in the script. "Carmen,"

He took my wrist and a shot of electricity shot up my arm. I turned back towards Tom and seeing him stand so close to me almost made me go weak at the knees. We stared into each other's eyes and just when Tom began to lean forward over a megaphone we both heard my dad's voice.

"Alright you two lovebirds on the set now!" I tensed up and turned towards my dad and flipped him the bird. "Don't you point that finger at me young lady or you're grounded!"

"I'm 20 years old dad you can't tell me nothing!" I cried back out to him. I turned towards Tom and said, "Well we better get to costume and makeup."

"Yeah guess we should." He said solemnly. We stood there in silence before he cried out as he took on ahead, "Race you!"

"Hey no fair you got a head start!"

Filming proceeded as planned, I was now being strapped onto some wires for the last big fight scene with Mysterio.

"You all good?" asked the stunt director.

"Yeah I'm all good. I can do this stunt Erik don't worry about it."

"Okay, but I'll have Stacey on standby should you need her." I nodded and saluted to my stunt double Stacey and Jon then told me how things were gonna go.

"Alright so Tom's already been swung into the crates, you come up from the top of the warehouse and meet up to Jake. All you need to do right now is just grab onto him, don't begin any of the fighting sequences yet, we'll work on that on the levitation bars."

"You got it Jon" I gave him a thumbs up.

"Alright you're all set." Aaron my wire guy said.

"Thanks dude."

"Alright clear the set please!" Jon said into his megaphone. I crouched down on my marker and waited for rolling and then action. "Quiet on the set please!" I took a couple of deep breaths and got into Carmen's mindset as I stared at Jake who was on wires just ahead of me. "And action!" The crates moved around which was my cue to jump out and just before I reached Jake, I let out the Jaguar Warrior cry but on my first take I totally missed Jake by like three feet.

The entire crew was laughing as were me and Jake.

"That was terrible!" I cried out. "Can that please be in the blooper reel!?" I laughed out.

"Reset let's go again!" Jon called out. I was then guided back to my cue point and I set myself down on the catwalk and went back to my marker. "Rolling, take 2! And.....action!" Th crates moved again and this time I jumped from a different angle and let out the Jaguar cry again and this time I managed to grip onto Jake. "Cut! Okay that was great! Let's just get one more for safety!". I released Jake and I was guided back to my catwalk.

But as I got there I noticed that one of the wires seemed a bit loose one me, with Jon starting from the top for a final take, I tried to hurry and tighten the wire as best I could and quickly got to my marker.

"Places please! And.....action!" The scene repeated itself and as I leapt out on cue, suddenly the wire snapped and I was dangling by one wire.

"Okay not good! Not good!"

"Cut! Get the mats under her now! Hang on (y/n)!" I looked towards Jake who was trying to come over towards me and he reached out telling me to take his hand. Just before I could grab it, my second wire snapped and I fell over 10 feet from the air and landed on the mat beneath me.

I let out a groan and soon I heard voices surrounding me and I heard emergency services telling everyone to back up and give them some room. I felt this sudden pain in my arm as I let out a scream of pure agony.

"We know sweetheart, we know but you have to lie still for us" one of them said as they began to examine me. "Broken shoulder, we have to get her to the hospital, get the gurney in here!" I was then set up on a gurney as I screamed and moaned in pain.

I was wheeled across the set and to an ambulance vehicle and I heard one of the men say.

"Now Ms. Downey, I'm gonna give you a sedative, it should help dull the pain and help you sleep. You'll be alright, we're taking you to the hospital now." Next thing I knew my vision was going fuzzy and then I went out like a light.

When I woke up, I found myself in the hospital with a sling over my arm and my shoulder bandaged.

"You're awake," I turned to my right and saw Tom standing before me, as well as Harrison and Zendaya.

"How you feeling chic?" asked Zendaya.

"A little funny, so what do I got?"

"You broke both your shoulder and your wrist in the fall plus a mild concussion. The doctors said you're lucky to be alive, most people falling from that height usually end up in a coma if not dead or multiple broken body parts."

"Gee thanks Harry" I said sarcastically.

"Good to know the Downey sarcasm is still intact." Zendaya praised.

"Hey guys could you give us a moment along please?" Tom asked. Zendaya and Harrison both looked at each other with a know it all grin before Zen said.

"Sure, fine."

"Don't have too much fun you two." I flipped them off as they left my room leaving Tom and I alone.

"How are you feeling?" he asked me.

"A bit in pain, but I've had worse, once I broke my leg when I was just 9 years old doing a risky bicycle stunt that my friends dared me to do. Boy dad was so pissed he never let me ride a bike again for 6 months."

"You serious?"

"Yeah." When I looked back up at Tom, I noticed that his eyes now held such worry and fear as he said.

"When you fell I—I was so worried that you'd....that you were gonna be.... I even tried to ride with you to the hospital but they wouldn't let me. God never before did I wish I really was Spiderman I—"

"Shhh it's okay Tom. It wasn't your fault. I should've spoken up and had the wiring guys tighten my wire before anything. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine." I then felt Tom take my free hand in his and I looked right back into his eyes again.

And damn that heartrate monitor because it was starting to spike up and I let out a groan of embarrassment to which Tom softly chuckled and he said.

"If it helps you feel better, my heart would probably be doing the exact same thing." I looked at him and he continued, "When I first met you I—I thought you were the prettiest girl I've ever seen, I know the press always says that it's me and Zendaya but truthfully I hope and pray that once Far from home comes out that they'll start to say you and me. God I hope I didn't freak you out or ruin this friendship because I—" I stopped him with a kiss.

He placed his hands on my cheeks as the kiss got a little deeper before I finally separated from him.

"You're so much like Peter, you ramble on too much." He chuckled nervously and he said.

"So....when you're released do you—wanna go out for coffee or something?"

"Coffee sounds wonderful, Parker." I teased using Carmen's accent as I said Parker.

"Cara mia Carmen." He leaned in and kissed me once more. Just before anything could go further we both heard my dad's voice say.

"Alright you two, don't be sucking each other's faces off!" We separated from each other and we both cleared our throats in embarrassment.

"Really dad?"

"Hey! Be thankful that once you two lovebirds got together I was gonna allow hand holding and little pecks but after my virgin eyes have been tainted with what I had just seen I may not allow any PDA at all." I shook my head at him and I turned my attention back to Tom and he smiled down at me as he took my hand in his and gave my knuckles a kiss.

Man I wish my release would come faster, I really could use that coffee right about now.

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missfangirll · 3 years

Text

I miss you, I’m sorry

This is the last prompt from the follower thing and I’m sorry it took so long.. Initially I planned a case fic (which is ~3k by now and not nearly finished), so I figured I had to write something else for you first ^^ Inspiration came in the form of this absolutely gorgeous song which I strongly recommend while reading ^^

Anyway, I went a bit ham with the angst, but it has a happy ending and hopefully is as fluffy as you wanted :) -------------------------------------------------------

Fandom: SCI Mystery Relationship: Zhan Yao / Bai Yutong Tags: Fluff, Angst with a happy ending Words: 2278 Summary: After a fight Zhan Yao leaves the apartment. Bai Yutong tries to cope.

Read on AO3

I still love you, I promise Nothing happened in the way I wanted But I miss you, I'm sorry

I don't wanna go, think I'll make it worse Everything I know brings me back to us I don't wanna go, we've been here before Everywhere I go leads me back to you

I miss you, I'm sorry

Gracie Abrams - I miss you, I'm sorry

* * *

It had been the worst fight they ever had in their relationship, hypnosis and Zhao Jue included, and it had left Bai Yutong with a hollow feeling in his stomach, sitting lost and miserable in the silent apartment. Earlier that day, Zhan Yao had accompanied him on a case and, because he was a fucking idiot, provoked the suspect to such an extent that the man managed to swing a knife at him and graze Zhan Yao’s shoulder before Bai Yutong could bring him down. And of course Zhan Yao had seen no fault in his behaviour, told him about the end that had justified the means and that it was his job, then had gotten cranky when Bai Yutong had pointed out that he technically wasn't even a police officer. It had only escalated from there and Bai Yutong still could hear the echo of their words in the silent apartment, taste their bitterness on his tongue. After the last remark had hit home, Zhan Yao had just looked at him with a blank expression, grabbed his conference suitcase and left the apartment without a word. And without his keys.

Bai Yutong let his face sink into his hands and let out a groan. The day had been awful from the start and this was just the grand finale. There was nothing he could do at the moment, he decided and got up from the sofa. Glancing at the kitchen for a moment, he opted for a hot bath instead. He could cook dinner in a few hours, maybe Zhan Yao would come home later. He nodded to himself and tried not to think about the fact that the cat had taken his weekend suitcase with him.

He sighed and made his way to the bathroom, opened the tap and started to undress. He would sit there quietly and relax, maybe watch a movie on his phone. He would not call his cat. Zhan Yao probably wouldn't answer anyway. Bai Yutong sighed to himself and stepped into the bathtub, ignoring the strange feeling of having leg room because the usual other occupant was missing. He sighed again and slid deeper into the water, resting his head on the edge and closing his eyes.

When he awoke with a start, the first thing he noticed was the darkness outside the window. Judging by the water which had cooled to almost room temperature, he must have been out for a while. Shivering, he climbed out, towelling himself off quickly. His phone told him it was right after midnight and he tried to suppress the growing unease in his stomach that Zhan Yao had neither come home nor called. Well, he would give the cat space if he wanted space. Lips pressed together and shoulders tense he went to bed, laying on his side facing the wall, stubbornly ignoring the empty space behind him.

* * *

His alarm went off at the usual time, but that was about all that was usual about this morning. In the daze between dreaming and waking he wondered briefly why Zhan Yao wasn't plastered to his back, breathing warm into his neck, when the memory of the previous evening hit him like a freight-train and he had to swallow hard, closing his eyes to will down the tears that had started rising. With a deep breath to brace himself to face the day he got out of bed, still stubbornly avoiding to look at the untouched pillow next to his.

The day passed by in a daze of interviews and meetings, all blending together after a while. His team had looked at him questioningly when he had arrived alone in the morning, but he had mumbled something about a short-notice conference and they had left him alone, probably also because they had seen his expression. Bai Chi was the only one brave – or socially inept – enough to actually ask a question over lunch that had Bai Yutong level such a murderous gaze at him that he almost choked on his rice and didn’t look up for the rest of their break.

By six o’clock his whole body ached with a sensation he couldn’t quite name. It had started in the early afternoon. First he had thought it was a pending migraine, but then his chest had started to burn as well. After subtly checking his temperature, he was sure he wasn't going to be ill either. That left an explanation he wasn't quite ready to address. Gritting his teeth, he sent his team home, standing in his empty office. He dreaded coming home to the empty, silent apartment, but staying here was probably worse. Sighing, he checked his phone again, still hoping for a message from his cat. When the notifications stayed stubbornly silent, he shoved the phone back in his pocket and went to his car.

The second night alone was even worse. He had half-heartedly thrown together a stir-fry and taken a short and uninspirational shower before retreating to the sofa. Staring distractedly at the TV screen, he pondered if he should call the cat. He had resigned himself to give Zhan Yao some space, but that had been a day ago and maybe he didn’t need it that much anymore. Gnawing his bottom lip, he finally reached for his phone, dialling the familiar number. The first call ended abruptly after two rings, apparently having been ended by someone. Irritated, Bai Yutong stared at his phone and frowned. When the second call went straight to voicemail, he couldn’t suppress an angry sound and flung the phone into a pillow. Fine. If the cat didn’t want to talk, Bai Yutong didn’t need to either.

He slept on the sofa that night, not being able to face the empty bedroom.

* * *

The day that followed was unsurprisingly terrible. He lashed out to his team more than once, regretting it immediately and apologizing to them, only to explode again at the next opportunity. After their lunch break, Ma Han approached him slowly, suggesting in carefully chosen words that he might want to take the rest of the day off, they had the paperwork covered. He nodded curtly to all of them and was out of the office in a heartbeat.

He didn’t have anywhere to go specifically, but everything was better than shouting at his team. He grimaced and began walking, letting his feet choose the direction. When he looked up, he was in front of the university building where he used to wait for Zhan Yao after his lessons. Groaning internally he turned around, deliberately avoiding to acknowledge the dull ache in his chest.

When he returned home later that afternoon, the ache had grown into a painful pulse he could feel in his whole body. Instead of clearing his head on the walk, he had unconsciously gone to places that held a significance for them. The park where they spent their lunch breaks, the bridge where he had hung a lock with their initials – to a lot of eye-rolling and groaning from Zhan Yao – on their anniversary, their favourite restaurant. A bus stop where they had found shelter from a downpour when neither had brought an umbrella, where he had kissed Zhan Yao breathless in the dim light. The corner where he almost had caused a car crash because the cat had chosen that exact moment to tell him he loved him for the first time.

He sat down on the sofa and exhaled slowly, blinking back the tears that had been lingering under the surface for the whole day. He had tried to call the cat a few times, but every call had gone to voicemail and he had ended it before the automatic voice was finished telling him he should leave a message. He still didn’t know what to say and if Zhan Yao would want to hear it.

I miss you. I’m sorry.

Leaning back into the pillows he closed his eyes, not able to hold back the tears anymore.

* * *

A sound startled him and he shot up from under the pillows. Disoriented he reached for his phone. Shortly after ten, which meant he had slept for three hours. No wonder his head felt fuzzy. A repetition of the same sound had him freeze, head cocked in the direction of – – – the door. A knock. Zhan Yao.

He almost tripped over the blanket he had wrapped around himself in his haste and had to grab the back of the sofa to steady himself. At the third knock, he flung the door open to reveal a slightly startled Zhan Yao, eyes wide, hand still raised to knock another time.

“Cat.”

He almost flung himself at Zhan Yao, but stopped abruptly when he saw the other’s face. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks pale and his hair looked like he had pulled several all-nighters. He probably had.

“Can I come in?”

Bai Yutong bit his lip at the uncertain tone and nodded, stepping aside to let the other in. He noticed Zhan Yao hadn’t brought the suitcase and tears welled up again in his eyes when he tried not think about what that meant. Furiously wiping his face, he turned his back to the cat and walked back to the sofa. He briefly considered getting a drink before they had that inevitable talk, but decided against it. If Zhan Yao wanted to break up with him, he might need a clear head.

The cat looked at him with an expression Bai Yutong couldn’t quite place and cautiously sat down on the sofa. Taking a shaky breath, he turned to face Zhan Yao.

“Cat, I’m sorr--”

“I need to--”

The both stared at each other, surprised. Bai Yutong pressed his lips together and motioned for the other to continue. Zhan Yao gave him that look again and inhaled deeply, before letting his breath out slowly.

“I need to apologize, Mouse.”

Bai Yutong startled, staring at Zhan Yao. “What? I mean, I...,” he trailed off when he saw the other’s pained expression and pressed his lips shut.

“I am sorry,” he repeated. “I shouldn’t have left like that and then ignored your calls. That was childish and immature and I’m sorry.” He looked directly at Bai Yutong, a pleading look in his eyes. When he received no response, he laid his hand on the other’s arm. “Please, Mouse, say something. I am sorry, believe me. I had plenty of time to think about what an idiot I am.” He grinned wryly, his thumb stroking tiny circles on Bai Yutong’s arm. The other had to swallow hard, closing his eyes for a moment. Then, because he didn’t trust his voice at all at that moment, he lunged forward to wrap his arms around Zhan Yao, almost sending them both off the sofa. Hiding his face in the other’s neck, he couldn’t stop the sobs rising in his throat. Zhan Yao’s arms came around his back, gripping tightly, as if he too was afraid to let go, and he let his face sink onto Bai Yutong’s shoulder.

They stayed like this for a while, just breathing each other’s scent, until Zhan Yao made a sound. “Your knee is in my side, Mouse. Move over.” Hearing the familiar annoyed tone, Bai Yutong couldn’t help but grin. He tightened his grip on the other, but making sure to move his knee away. “I love you,” he mumbled into Zhan Yao’s neck and could feel a grin form against his temple. “I couldn’t hear you,” Zhan Yao teased. “Say it again.”

Bai Yutong bit his neck, just to be difficult, and pulled away to sit on his haunches. He still hadn’t let go of Zhan Yao’s hand and now tightened his grip. Looking directly at the other, he said softly, “I love you, Cat. And I’m sorry too. I said some things that were…” He trailed off, feeling miserable all over again.

“I know you didn’t mean them,” assured him Zhan Yao. “Still. It wasn't true,” he insisted. “Cat, you are the most capable person in the whole SCI.” Zhan Yao snorted. “Don’t let your team hear that.” Bai Yutong huffed. “I mean it. You are fiercely intelligent, unbelievably kind, so damn brave, and I really don’t know what we would do without you.” He paused for a second. “And it is our team, not just mine,” he added softly.

Zhan Yao smiled so happily at this that Bai Yutong couldn’t hold back any longer. With a groan, he captured the other’s mouth in a scorching kiss, weaving his free hand in his tousled hair to keep him close. He pressed against Zhan Yao, licking in his mouth, relishing in the feeling of soft, plush lips against his. Inevitably, they both had to come up for air after a while, but left just enough space between them to breathe, not being able to part from each other.

“I love you,” Bai Yutong said against the other’s lips, and the grin that followed felt like a balm for his still tender heart. “I love you too, Mouse,” he heard, and something in his soul clicked back into place.

#sci谜案集 #sci #sci mystery #bai yutong #zhan yao #my writing #writing prompt

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muichewrou · 4 years

Note

AYYYYY NEW KNY WRITING BLOG, HELLO! I was wondering If i could request a giyuu x fem reader scenario (where the reader is kinoe ranked if thats okay!) Where they were best friends with giyuu along with sabito but after sabito's death they drifted apart, its been 4 years and reader saves tanjiro squad from a demon before giyuu can and she's changed a lot (used to be short, now is taller for instance!) And its just a very fluffy and emotional reunion? Tysm if u do this HAVE A GREAT DAY 💖💕💗💕

yaaa!!! this was my first request but I’m so sorry for taking so long!! I merged these two since they’re kind of similar, I hope you don’t mind! this includes my headcanons for how giyuu made his haori haha and some parts might seem incomplete but I didn’t wanna hold it back any longer 💕 💕 enjoy!!

Note: Includes spoilers for Giyuu’s backstory and takes place before the Natagumo Mt. arc. Under the cut due to length.

Word Count: 7.7k+

https://twitter.com/xu77106413/status/1194118794265841664?s=20

This was drawn by a very good friend of mine, xu! follow her on instagram and twitter! she’s also on Tumblr under the same user.

“I didn’t want him to die either.”

Your voice echoes through the shoddy and diminutive home you shared with Giyuu and your teacher, Sakonji Urokodaki. Giyuu’s eyes stays locked onto the pot of meat and vegetables that’s been simmering in broth for a lengthy amount of time, never straying away from it once. The wooden bowls in front of you remain empty, and the eating utensils positioned on the tray too lay dormant. Your two cups of tea go cold.

The male chooses to uphold the silence he’s kept up ever since returning from the Final Selection, only nodding and shaking his head to mimic a reply. It was a reasonable way to handle grief, and you allowed it for roughly a week or so, but as of late he has been rejecting your attempts at training with him.

Instead, he was now laboring himself with stitching together two contrasting cloths, to which you realize one of them was half of the haori he had worn ever since arriving here to train as a Demon Slayer.

The other half, you recognize after one glimpse, is indisputably Sabito’s. That pattern of his yukata was how you identified him from the others during the Final Selection.

Your eyes narrow, but no maliciousness is directed at the male. Rather, you were apprehensive about how exactly the completed cloth would look like. Mismatched outfits didn’t seem to be the trend these days, but what do you know–it’s not like you’re allowed to travel to cities or villages and contemplate their different senses of fashion when Urokodaki would preferably have you hone your breathing techniques.

Suddenly, you remember how Giyuu and yourself wouldn’t be training with Urokodaki once the swordsmith returns with your meticulously handcrafted Nichirin blades. You would shortly separate onto your differing paths, Urokodaki continuing to cultivate Water Breath swordsmen and the two of you fulfilling missions to work your way up through the ranks as Demon Slayers.

Despite how it was you that was ridiculing Giyuu for his way of coping, a burning sensation tingles your eyes. The boy stiffens up, unsure of what to do. You shake your head to disperse the tears, yanking the ladle hanging near the boiling pot. You begin to serve him before you serve yourself.

You take a sip of the broth, wincing at the burning heat. Giyuu sets his work aside in favor of filling up his stomach, and you use it as an opportunity to observe his progress so far.

To put it bluntly, it was horrendous. The weaving of the two garments together was so dreadful that certain areas were fraying due to his unrefined needlework, and besides that, the cloth had overlapped in a jagged pattern than straight down the middle as it should be.

He gives you a look you can barely distinguish, “Do you want it?”

“Want what?” You lower your bowl. He raises up the other half of Sabito’s attire, expression unwavering. He motions over to your own haori, and you can just barely comprehend the idea. “I…”

Did he want you to alter your clothing similarly? You suppose that was the only logical conclusion you could come up with.

But as strange as it seemed, you want it, you really do. Other than his mask which was returned to Urokodaki, the patterned yukata was the only keepsake from Sabito that was left to the two of you. Mindlessly, your hand starts to gravitate towards the fabric, but you pull away when your hands brush against each other.

Giyuu’s eyes are large and seemingly displays a look of betrayal. You don’t care for that expression. He should be happy just like when Sabito was alive, or before his sister died.

Hesitating, you reach back for it again, gripping the cloth. Only when it’s in your hands do you clutch it tightly to your chest, sighing at the way it calmed you.

“I think I’ll…make this into a scarf. It’s getting chilly, after all.” You finger the delicate material, looking up. “I can help you with your…haori if you want. This way, he can always be with us no matter where we go. That’s what you wanted, right?”

You worked on the fabrics the following week, barely finishing it just as Haganezuka arrived with the swords.

“Thank you, [Name],” he takes his haori out of your hands and slips it on, evening out the creases. “It looks good.”

You tug the scarf around your neck, “you’re welcome, but just don’t damage it, okay?”

His skin is sickly pale and his eyes seem duller than before. “I won’t. Let’s go, our mission is to the west.”

Giyuu turns his back to you and strides ahead, never looking back to check if you were following. You stare at his hand that hung loosely to his side.

Your fingers twitch slightly, but you resign to resting your hand on the hilt of your sword. You hasten your pace, heading along behind him.

Each mission after the first tested your relationship with Giyuu. He was a great partner overall with that strength and composure of his, but the connection between you seemed…lost.

“Why don’t you talk to me anymore?”

Your voice startles him. ‘This is exactly what I’m talking about–his life has been so centralized around demons that he forgets that I’m here.’

“You’ve changed so much these past few months. You hardly interact with me nowadays, so what am I?”

Your nose begins to tingle, and you sneeze into the sleeve of your haori, the mask around your head almost slipping off. Giyuu says nothing at first, only blinking, then:

“Are you sick?” He avoids the question.

“Hah? You tell me,” the words scratch against your throat and your eyes begin to water from sneezing. You wrap the scarf tighter around your neck, sniffling out loud so he could hear. “Are you sick of me, Giyuu?”

”Me? No, I’m not ill.”

You fling your head down in exasperation, scowling at the snow accumulating around your feet. Though the both of you were now 17 years old, he didn’t exactly have the ability to read the atmosphere of the situation. You compared him to a child constantly, oblivious and distracted, annoyingly lovable at times. “Giyuu, I swear. You’re so dense sometimes, you know?”

“You’ve mentioned it before, but I’m not sure how to improve it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think it’s ’cause of me. Even when Sabito was still here, you were always nervous around me when we’re alone together. ”

When you first met Giyuu when you were 14, he stuttered over his words so much that every time he had to talk to you, Sabito had to speak for him. It’s toned down over the years, but the awkwardness was still there. You, however, felt just fine speaking with him the first time.

You scratch the back of your head and drag your fingers through your hair, pondering your next words. “So this might be a relief to you, Giyuu, because Oyakata-sama is dispatching me off to recruit some orphans. Supposedly, they keep rejecting his request to make them Slayers.”

“Why?” Came his curt reply.

“I just told you—”

“No. Why you? There are plenty of other Demon Slayers capable of doing the same.”

“What?” You cross your arms, leaning toward him, “It’s the Master’s orders. I can’t do anything about it. Aren’t you happy? Chances are, we’re going to be separated for the rest of our time as Demon Slayers.”

He tilts his head. Why would he be happy? His happiest moments were when he was with you and Sabito, and there was no denying how nervous he was with you, but that was because you made him feel fuzzy inside. He couldn’t explain it.

Seeing him deep in thought made you open your mouth to question him, but you decide against it once your crow flies to your shoulder, shrieking into your ear.

“I guess that’s my cue to go. Don’t miss me too much alright, Giyuu,” you joke lightly, waving your hand and running past him. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see that he’s distraught, eyes wide and brows furrowed, hand outstretched towards you.

—-

Four years later, you still regret glancing back at him. At that time, you realized you were mistaken about his feelings and only established more emotional baggage for him. You were really the only person he had left ever since departing from Urokodaki.

But you couldn’t do anything. As you foresaw, Kagaya had decided to separate you and Giyuu as an arrangement for your abilities to not be concentrated in one region.

Before you know it, you’re running into the forest with the hand on the hilt of your sword. Your crow continues to squawk out orders as it soars along the late evening sky, the sunlight dwindling and barely peeking through the treetops.

“Caw! Three Mizunoto ranked Slayers are reported to clash against several Demons in the Forest of Correction! Mission, mission!” his sharp cries grate into your ears as he glides through the sacred grove, swerving around branches and leading you further into the forest.

You can hear the shouts of “Zenitsu, watch out!” and “over here Inosuke!” once you stray from the path, jumping over a bush that was in your way.

You hop onto a tree, using the height to your advantage. In the distance, you can see three male Slayers battling against a demon of above-average size. One was shirtless and donned a boar head, another was outfitted in a yellow triangle-patterned haori that faded to orange, and the last being a boy who hauled a heavy-looking compartment on his shoulders. It was a traditional battle with novices standing up against a weak demon, nothing more, nothing less. Or at least that’s what you assumed initially. Your crow did say ”several demons”, didn’t he?

Immediately, you could sense multiple presences lurking within the dark thickets. Drawing your blade from its sheath, you push yourself off the tree and ascend towards enemies in hiding, dismissing the demon the kids were taking care of.

”Breath of Water, Tenth Style: The Dragon of Change.”

Your scarf flings itself around as you spin and twist your body through the air, sword raised above your shoulder. Evading the trees using precise and striking reflexes, you continue rotating as the demons are soon visible, one of them getting caught in the momentum as they leap out to attack you.

A shriek erupts from his lips as he cradles his head, the body already disintegrating from the legs up. Without any time to lose, you swerve to the left once more to hurl yourself towards the leftover demons.

There were five demons total in the thicket. With one throwing themselves recklessly to your blade, that left four, but only two were in front of you.

You resume your rotations. Spin once, slice through the air twice. Then spin twice, slicing through the air three times. Consecutively performing those movements until you meet your destination, building up the steps as you go on.

”Your footing is off. Your swings are too slow,” Sabito announces as you try to catch your breath, wooden sword on the ground and hands placed on your knees. You dry heave, reaching for the pouch of water he’s carrying. When he refuses to hand it over, you drop your head down, sweat trickling onto the dirt.

”Please, Sabito?” He shakes his head, tossing the satchel onto the floor. Giyuu, who was visibly uncomfortable with Sabito’s treatment of you, stood to the side, clutching at the sleeves of his haori. The satchel bounced to his feet, and he felt obligated to pick it up.

”I’ll only show you once again. Focus on my feet and how I position myself when swinging the sword.”

You lick your dry lips, not opposed to his wishes,”…but…water?”

He gives a look to Giyuu. The black-haired male freezes up, fidgeting with the satchel.

(That look means ”don’t give it to her”. How do you know? You’ve observed it too many times during your training sessions with him.)

He grabs the practice weapon on the ground and moves immediately.

Sabito was the epitome of a perfect swordsman. A child prodigy. The amount of stamina he possessed was astounding. His speed and strength far overshadowed both of yours and Giyuu’s.

That didn’t mean he left you behind, though. As strict as he was, he cared for his comrades—even more than his own life.

His footsteps created no sound whatsoever. He was a crow’s feather fluttering across the sky, twirling and shifting directions according to the breeze.

You keep yourself from falling over in awe by grasping onto Giyuu’s arm, making him shudder from the gesture and straighten his posture. Sabito smirks at you once he sees the literal sparkles in your eyes, pleased with your reaction.

Step to the right, step to the left. Bend your arms during the pauses. Pivot if the foe swipes at you and retaliate by swinging your weapon around yourself to protect your body. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Until the energy and forcefulness of the attacks reach its peak–the apex of your power.

Then, the climax. Charge at the enemy by forcing your foot down at the final step, leaping and twisting your body while your blade slashes into the target. The finishing blow.

His choreography ends as he tosses the wooden sword away and walks towards you, all while the training log he practiced on splits into four and slides to the surface. What a show-off!

”If you manage to do the same, I’ll allow you to have a drink of water.”

”You’re lying!” you gape back at him.

But he wasn’t, evident in the way his nose scrunches up as if saying, ”are you kidding me?”

So you try again. Numerous times, in fact. Giyuu retires at some time to assist Urokodaki with a supply run, but Sabito stays to attend to the exercise.

You use one of the many boulders around as a stepping stool, kicking yourself off into the air once more. In a flash, you decapitate the two of them in one slash.

Gasping, you turn to Sabito for confirmation. Did you really just do that? Not only cutting the trunk into four, but six pieces?

”Sabito, did you see that?!” Your hair reels against your cheek like a whip, and you’re reveling in your breakthrough–so much that you don’t care about the aching and soreness of your overtaxed muscles.

There’s a pleased look in his eyes, though it’s driven away in an instant. He takes a step forward.

”–since this technique requires more stamina to perform, you may tire out soon after. Make sure there are no enemies around before resting. If you’re ever in a pinch, the Piercing Rain Drop can save your life,” when the weapon is picked up again, he demonstrates by jabbing it into the air in front of him and jumping back.

But you’ve executed the Tenth Style countless of times. You’ve built enough endurance to perform it at least ten times without rest. To you, The Dragon Of Change was a technique most meaningful to you, so it was obvious that you trained yourself relentlessly after he passed.

The peach-haired boy blinks, unfazed when he sees you pout, breathing heavily. You’re glaring at him through watery and hazy vision, crawling towards the water Giyuu set on the ground before he left.

“You’re not even gonna praise me? Boring! All that for nothing! I’ll train with Giyuu from now on, then. He’s more encouraging than you, at least.”

The threat hangs loosely in the air. Sabito knew you liked being with him too much to separate from him. It would have been far better if Giyuu could stick around and practice techniques along with you, but Urokodaki gets rather intimidating when he’s mad.

You could barely feel him ruffling your hair up in your fit of frustration. Jolting, you gaze up in astonishment, at a loss for words.

Your eyes narrow as you feel a presence behind you. One demon on foot, and another hovering in the air just above it. You hadn’t reached the ground yet as it had barely been a second since defeating the previous demons.

”Breath of Water, Ninth Style: Water Splash,” you sidestep as she hurls herself at you. The swiftness of her efforts caused her to skid across the dirt, shooting into healthy foliage of the thicket. Her eyes widen when you ignore her for the other demon, leaping up and cutting off the head in an instant.

Weak. All of them are unbearably weak.

His head flies through the air and he cries out his last words, “What the hell?! I thought we were just fighting some incompetent brats, but this chick is on a whole ‘nother level! Hina, you can’t fight against her!”

He plummets to the surface, limbs entangled together. His body wriggles as if he’s been possessed, but you find that it was his will to keep existing and sink his teeth into your flesh.

“Aoi!” The female demon howls in rage as her partner decays and shrivels from the injury, baring her teeth and scampering in your direction. Her fury amplifies tenfold as she observes you sheathing your blade and strolling back to the three Mizunoto ranked Slayers. “You! I’ll kill–?!”

One by one, her limbs tumbles onto the soil. First, her legs. Next is her torso, a figurine sectioned and carved with fresh little cuts intricately, the delicate and refined labor of a notable craftsman. Fingers are falling individually from her hands and crumble before they come in contact with the ground. Her head is halved cleanly from ear to ear. Blood drips into her gaping jaw and bubbles her utterances and wails into sorrowful and incomprehensible nothingness. She, too, deteriorates away when her neck slips away from her torso.

”Come again?” you taunt, never halting your pace. But she is already gone.

The boys had succeeded in defeating the demon they busied themselves with while you dealt with the others. One more.

”Hey! Over here!” the one in the checkered haori exclaims, a wide smile plastered onto his face as he waves you over. ”Thank you so much for your help. To be honest, I felt that maybe we wouldn’t make it out alive with that number of demons—”

”You!” The boar shoves his finger towards you, one hand clasped around both his Nichirin blades. He’s stomping his foot harshly to the dirt, jerking as he spoke roughly…and was that steam coming out of his snout? ”You’re strong! But I’ll be the judge of that, so fight me right here, right now!!”

”Inosuke, calm down!” The red-haired boy raises his hands in an attempt to alleviate the boar’s passion to instigate quarrels. ”You should be thanking her, too! If she hadn’t taken care of those demons in the thicket, we would have all succumbed to our wounds sooner or later. You too, Zenitsu! Wake up–”

You point your sword to his neck. He blinks. Zenitsu’s eyes are now wide open, huge and bleary. Inosuke growls.

”Box. Hand it over.”

”Huh?”

You grab him by his haori and flip him over onto his stomach without so much of a thought. He gives a yelp and struggles by wriggling under you, but he is essentially powerless against you. ‘She’s fast!’

The other two males are frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

They had little to no knowledge of you and where you came from. You were clearly a high-ranking Slayer, skilled in the art of swordsmanship and having impressive strength, speed, and composure.

”W-wait, please!” the boy under you blurts, ”we mean no harm! If you’ll let us go, we won’t ever cross your path again!”

Zenitsu chimes in, ”yeah, what he said! Besides, you wouldn’t want to hurt the cutest little girl you’ll ever see in that box, would you?”

”I could care less about the gender of a demon,” you raise your sword, the tip pointing downwards to the wooden box. You don’t budge when Zenitsu throws himself onto your legs, yanking on the cloth of your uniform.

”WAIT, wait, wait! I have an even better idea!” He wipes his face on the fabric, dampening it with his tears and blood. Why was he crying, anyway? Rocking back and forth, he wails, ”you and me– let’s get married! You’re so strong, you can protect me from all the demons that come our way!”

You kick him away with your right foot, dragging his friend away.

”Listen to me carefully,” you begin, ”once I take care of this demon, you’ll be free to walk away. The two of you are so adamant about letting it live, so I’ll strike you a deal.”

All of them quiet down, but you don’t continue. Guilt trickles through your veins. Must you really be lying to them? Reassuring them that you wouldn’t let Kagaya learn about their breach of conduct when you know damn well you’ll report it as soon as possible?

You gulp.

You’re a good person. A role model for the lower-ranked members of the Corps. Furthermore, you dislike fabricating your words, but at the same time you want to defend the helpless.

This is for the best of humanity, you reason with yourself.

”Hey! I ain’t getting any good vibes from this chick,” Inosuke announces, muscles rippling as he raises his blades in the air. He puffs out his chest. ”Zangetsu! When I go in, you charge right behind, okay?!”

”T-that’s not my name!” he groans in pain. Tears fly out of his eyes and his nose is leaking out blood uncontrollably.

You scoff, ”it’s futile, anyhow. Your buddy can’t even get back up from a single kick.”

He claws at his haori, unexpectedly feeling feverish. His mind is foggy and he can’t get a clear view of you. Huh…Is she…is she a Pillar?

His head slumps to the floor and before he goes out cold, ”Ugh…I think I heard four of my ribs break…”

A small sparrow chirps angrily at you before landing onto the yellow haori of its master. Inosuke tosses his weapons aside and heads over to boot Zenitsu awake. Oh, but you were convinced he wanted to battle you earlier.

Rolling your eyes at how fickle the children were being, you look down.

”You. What’s your name?”

”K–Kamado Tanjirou,” he murmurs. His cheek rubs against the soil. ”You—you said something before, something about a deal.”

”I did, didn’t I?” You press your heel onto his leg, leering over him. ”So how about this. If you let me kill the demon inside that box of yours, it will remain confidential until you or your friends disclose it.”

”Lying to others is excusable sometimes, [Name],” Sabito scolds, ”but don’t ever think that it’s alright to lie to yourself.”

”It helps me feel better, though.”

”You’re just like Giyuu, [Name].”

You laugh. ”Is that bad, though? I like Giyuu!! Heh.”

Almost immediately does Tanjirou shake his head. ”No! I can smell that you’re lying. The person inside this box is more important to me than my own life! I won’t let you kill her! Besides, she hasn’t killed anyone…!”

You sigh, flicking your blade. ”Yet. But please remember that I have been in service far longer than you. My job is to kill demons. Failure to comply with my words will only get yourself killed instead. Would you like me to recite the Demon Slayer protocols for you?”

”You’re afraid of being wrong. You’re afraid of getting hurt.”

”I don’t understand though, Sabito. If it makes me feel okay enough to keep fighting, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

“Foolish, is what it is. It’s going to crash down on you like a wave—a tsunami. The self-deception, false sense of securities, holding yourself back. You can’t keep telling yourself you’re strong and you’ll persevere no matter what. That attitude will get you killed if you’re always thinking you’re trying hard enough–if you don’t know your own limitations.”

…

Footsteps approach from behind. Soft and light, it’s very faint – barely audible and coupled with the darkness of the night. Any ordinary human wouldn’t be able to take notice of it, but you’ve been instructed to employ all of your senses ever since you first picked up a sword.

”Hurry up! Take Giyuu and run!” Sabito bends his knees slightly and holds his sword with both of his hands. He assumes a stance in front of you two defensively, but you want to pull him by his clothes and flee with him. ”Don’t just sit there! I’ll take care of this!”

Giyuu is breathing heavily and clutching the side of his head. There is a constant stream of blood trickling down his cheek and eye, causing you to react by placing your hand over his to cease the bleeding. The mask crafted by Urokodaki threatens to slip off as you shake your head furiously.

You don’t want to leave. Just earlier, Giyuu was attacked by a demon who pounced on him from the trees, slashing the skin near his left eye. Your vision had turned red as you hacked its limbs off and swiftly sliced the head, but it left you breathless.

Giyuu was fading in and out, though it was barely the first day of the Final Selection. Sabito was playing hero and triumphing over every demon that crossed his path. If this keeps going on, neither of you would make it out alive unless you recovered from your wounds somewhere safe.

There was another person who stood by your side, trembling in fear as he peeked between you and Sabito. The peach-haired boy had given him orders to take you away, but detecting the tension between you two made him falter.

”No! I’m going to stay and fight with you!”

The frigid evening air was scorching and unbearable as you inhale and exhale rapidly, unable to stabilize your breathing from the anxiety and terror that arises.

‘Calm down. If I can get all of us to cooperate, we will be able to overcome this.’

The monster’s pace is sluggish and heavy, each step resulting in a loud thud to echo throughout the thick and murky forest. Over the disturbance, you can hear Giyuu give out the tiniest whimper, one you could just barely make out. You stroke his hair to reassure him that you were by his side, gliding through the unexpectedly silky strands of his hair, whispering little words of comfort to slow his breathing. He jolts when Sabito shouts at you once more to escape without him.

Your shadow encases Giyuu as you stand over him, grasping the handle of your sword.

”I-it’s just one demon. If we work together, we can win against it somehow.”

Looking over to the nightmare heading over to the four of you, the sight of his countless arms wrapping around his body left you mentally and physically astounded. Your legs shook like a leaf as your grip around your sword loosened significantly. You were sure your shakiness made Giyuu increasingly jittery.

It bothered you how the demon’s eyes seemed to glow so brightly, tearing through the dark like the full moon above. It bothered you how bulky and veiny his entire body was, how his blood red fingernails contrasted with the olive green shade of his skin. The way his arms flail about as he used his hands to trudge atop the mucky terrain, eyes curved upwards with glee and excitement at the sight of some form of sustenance in this isolated woodland.

He covers up a squeal with his hands as he stares at the masks the three of you wore, “I can’t believe that dastard Urokodaki sent three of his students to feast on!”

You watch as he rolls his eyes up in pleasure, muscles tensing as he continues to cackle. It sickened you down to the bones. Who gets off by devouring children who’ve just reached their teenage years?

“Shut up!” You unsheathe your sword, pointing the tip to the demon, “Who said that you’re gonna eat us? We, the disciples of Urokodaki, will destroy you!”

You let out a yelp when Sabito pushes you back with the hilt of his blade, sending you to almost fall on top of Giyuu before you twist your body to land at the ground next to him.

“[Name], just listen to me for once! Don’t be stupid. There’s no way you’re going to defeat him when you haven’t even mastered all the techniques Urokodaki taught us.”

You push yourself back up.

“But we can! Sure you may be stronger than all of us generally, but you can’t handle it by yourself. If we work together…” you trail off when Sabito dismisses you, leaping towards the demon.

”I’m not risking both your lives.”

He changes positions so fast that all you could observe was the blur left behind by his movement.

“Sabito!” Giyuu’s free hand is outstretched in the direction of his friend, and you see the boy from earlier seize Giyuu’s arm before taking ahold of your hand, steering you away from the skirmish.

Sabito veers around one final time while in the air, initiating his breathing techniques. From afar, you can see how remorse is conveyed in his eyes, the way he seems to ask for forgiveness in his smile. Your vision wobbles and distorts his image into nothing but haze and fog.

You attempt to dig your heels into the ground to stop the male from tugging you farther away. Your elbow meets his ribs and you accidentally kick Giyuu in the process. You can’t bring yourself to mutter an apology or stop thrashing. Blinking back your tears, you could see his lips move as clear as day, murmuring a single word.

“Run.”

He’s begging.

You stop struggling. Giyuu is left questioning why amidst the steadfast hammering of his head.

“Hang in there, Sabito! I’ll come back for you, I swear it!”

…

Run!

Hurriedly, you snatch up Tanjirou by his collar and hoist him aside to shield him, whipping your blade up and clashing with another of your kind. A Slayer–but this time you recognize him as the person who you offered your Pillar seat to.

”Giyuu?” You don’t believe your eyes. You’ve seen hundreds of people with the same color hair and the same dull eyes he bore which led you to believe that you were mistaken, but the haori was a sure sign of who he was. ”Is that you? What are you doing here?”

Tanjirou looks up in relief at the name. Inosuke gives up on reviving his comrade, wondering what the hell is going on with so much noise.

”[Name]…?” His somber blue eyes look incredulously at you, from the pattern of your scarf to your sword. He takes notice of how his hands tremble from your strength, something that had never occurred before. You seem to have matured in appearance also; how he didn’t have to tilt his head down to meet your eyes anymore. How your face and physique became slimmer from the strict and rigorous routine of slaying demons.

You also take a few seconds to look at him, steel grating together.

He didn’t change much ever since you last saw him. You could really only point out how his hair grew longer and perhaps a couple of centimeters to his height, but you don’t remember.

Focus.

You shove him away with your weapon, skidding back and taking ahold of Tanjirou once more. The Pillar eyes the way you’re handling him, how you urge your blade towards the box on his shoulders.

”Don’t just stare! You can feel it too, right? The demon inside this?” you clink your blade urgently onto the wood, vying for his attention. As a Pillar, there was no doubt he sensed it.

Demons are the terrors of mankind, both of you agreed to before.

After a moment, he nods. ”I’ve known for two years.”

And you didn’t know about it? Obviously, you were busy for the past couple of years with missions nonstop, but… it just felt wrong. You couldn’t put your finger on it.

“You’re joking, right? Giyuu.” This couldn’t be his choice. That dumb kid with that scar on his forehead had to have brainwashed your friend or something.

Demons are evil. They’re merciless. Insatiable. They slaughter countless innocent people. They killed your family. Sabito’s family. Giyuu’s older sister. Sabito.

So why in the world would he permit one to blend away with the humans?

”This is a violation of the Demon Slaying Corps conduct, Giyuu. We can’t let a demon live with them! As Slayers, we are trained to protect the humans with our lives. What would happen if that girl attacks an unsuspecting victim? Think about it. When has there ever been a demon who lived in harmony with us?”

Tanjirou makes a noise, presumably to receive approval to speak.

”Quiet, boy. The adults are speaking here.” He shrinks back, sweating profusely. Not a whimper or sound breaks out of his lips in fear of your wrath and bitterness. ”Not only have you desecrated this sacred forest by luring demons here, but you dare bring one willingly?”

Giyuu steps forth, sheathing his sword. He wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

“[Name], stop. It’s a pledge our mentor and I agreed to make.” You almost drop your sword but quickly tightened up your grip. Did that imply that this child trained with your instructor? Nevermind that, but Urokodaki of all people sheltered a fiend in his run-down lodging? ”If his sister ever attacks a human, we will compensate for it with our lives.”

You bite back the words you desperately want to say.

(”You’re going to cast away the life your sister sacrificed for you? The life that Sabito died for? For a mere demon we can kill right now?”)

Yeah, there was no way you were going to say that. Not to the person you’ve been yearning to meet, the person you fell in love with and only realized it when you departed from him. You don’t want to be away from him ever again. Not when it’s like he’s dangling off the edge of a cliff, wet and slippery from rain, merely holding on by the tips of his fingers. Not when he takes a glance down, believing that plunging into the shallow and murky river water was better than living with guilt and shame of surviving death multiple times–surviving at the expense of those he cared for dearly.

Tears rush out of your eyes like the raindrops that drip from the roof after a stormy day. Damn these feelings! You were supposed to be furious at Giyuu, not getting sentimental and mushy over your past!

Tanjirou lets out an oomph when you drop him in favor of clearing your tears away. The males, save for Zenitsu, are appalled (maybe not Giyuu, he knows how you are) by how quickly your mood shifts, though they are glad for your change of heart. Inosuke doesn’t quite understand all the details, but suddenly he’s craving for a piping hot meal to fill up the bottomless pit that is his stomach. And a good night’s sleep included, preferably.

An old crow totters to your feet, inclining its head. You do the same without much of a thought, sniffling. Was this Giyuu’s crow? It’s shivering for whatever reason. Was it because of its age? Why did he get an old crow? Wait, that doesn’t matter.

”You and me, we need to talk.” Returning your blade to its sheath, you stomp over to Giyuu and snatch his hand in yours. Turning back, you look at Tanjirou, ”I’m not escorting you back to a village. Tell your crow to navigate you to a Wisteria crest estate or whatever. Better hurry up or your friend may never wake up.”

Apparently, the boar wasn’t too happy about the

”GAH! HEY!!” Inosuke tosses his head back, roaring and nearly prompting his mask to slip off. ”Come back here, we still need to decide who’s the strongest! I’ll crush—”

”Oh, um–Thank you so much!” Tanjirou interrupts, adjusting the box to his front then slinging Zenitsu onto his back, causing the unconscious male’s head to knock into Tanjirou’s shoulder. The red-haired boy stumbles from the weight bearing down on his injuries before gathering himself together, nodding to both you and Giyuu before heading out the other direction. He looks back, ”Come on, Inosuke!”

Inosuke glances back and forth, back and forth, and back and forth–before growling and stampeding to where Tanjirou had went.

You do the same, hand held tight around Giyuu’s and leading him through the forest. His hands were large and warm, perfectly clasped around yours even if his grip was loose.

“I can’t believe this,” you take a sharp turn and exit out the forest, bustling through the shrubbery.

The leaves that scatter around you are dancers and their stage the wispy breeze. Fluttering without care, twirling on instinct, the sharp whistle of the breeze guiding them to the ground as the music dies down. Drop, drop, drop. Few nestle in your hair and take the form of adornments, and others to Giyuu’s.

“Do you even know what you’re going to do when Master finds out? Can you even explain your decision of leaving his sister alive?”

He gazes into the ice of your eyes, silent when you squeeze his hand tighter, begging for a response.

”Do you still hate me?” you ask. His hand grows clammy in yours. ”I know that I haven’t been a good friend to you ever since Sabito died. But this is serious, Giyuu. What good comes out of this when the aftermath is either death or expulsion from the Corps? Do you really want to give up on life so badly?”

Though there is no clock nearby, you can hear and feel the seconds tick by as the deafening silence trails on. Tick, tick, tick. Time is endless, people say. Was it true, though? When people die, time ends for them. In no way would it resume. It’s simply impossible.

He tears his eyes away from yours, suddenly finding the ground appealing. You wonder if he feels uncomfortable with your hand-holding. You don’t let go regardless.

“When I received the message from Oyakata-sama that I could have challenged you to the Water Pillar seat two years ago, I refused. I felt that maybe your life could change for the better if you had a higher pedestal to stand on when you’re so dedicated to defeating demons. Don’t you remember how Sabito slapped the shit out of you when you thought you were better off dying? You hate it when people throw their lives away, but why are you so convinced that she wouldn’t attack a human? You might die, so why? Tell me.”

Being a Pillar was a challenge you constantly strived to succeed in. Not only was it an esteemed and honorable position granted to the most formidable swordsman of the organization, but each Pillar had a certain Breath Style that sets them apart from the others. You had considered developing another Breath Style that derives from the Breath of Water, but you decided to create original techniques, using the tools you had already.

You wanted to be part of a group that recognized your power. Wanted. That was when you were still training with Urokodaki, Sabito, and Giyuu. But these accumulations of events, from Sabito’s death to your separation from Giyuu and all in between, led you to realize that power wasn’t all you needed. Instead, to cherish what you already achieved.

You’re powerful, you’re talented, and you’ll cherish those aspects. But you won’t let it overcome what you truly love.

“Because…” You quiet down your thoughts. ”Even when his sister was in a starved state, wounded, and had little stamina from turning into a demon, she still protected Tanjirou. She was different. Most would take advantage of an unconscious human right under their nose.”

Never had you heard of a demon denying human flesh in your life.

”You weren’t imagining things, right?” you tug him closer, eyes wide and skeptical, though you cannot recall a moment where Giyuu lied to you. ”I’ve never heard of a case such as that. But if there’s never been a fatality in two years as you said, then…”

There will most likely never be one. Unless her brother was endangered by another human, or if she needed their flesh to replenish the stamina she’s lost. Still, Tanjirou promised Giyuu that he wouldn’t let it happen.

You slump down your shoulders in defeat. There was no point in mulling over it when you had already allowed them to escape. You couldn’t take back your decision. Not only would it look bad on your character, but Giyuu would probably despise you soon after.

”You win. And guess what? You have my word that I won’t tell Master.”

”Why?” he asks.

”Don’t question me. Aren’t you glad?”

He nods.

”Good.”

You shiver as the wind picks up once more. Giyuu gently releases your hand and shrugs off his haori, ignoring your protests as he swings it above your head and drapes it onto your shoulders.

“I don’t need it. I’m not cold.”

“Still–”

You quiet down when he reaches over to tug you to his chest. Your nose collides into the rigidness of his muscles, dumbfounded by his actions.

Giyuu positions his hand onto the back of your head and encircles his arms around your waist, adjusting your head so that your ear laid above his heart.

You fiddle with the material of his dark uniform, hesitant on returning the embrace.

Despite how reserved and gracious he sounded, his heartbeat said otherwise. It was almost like he had been jogging without rest before pulling you into a hug, but you don’t mind. Similarly, you could hear your own pulse ringing in your ears by how nervous you felt.

This is normal. It’s comparable to those novels you’ve read in the past where friends cry and snuggle into their friends’ arms, whom they have not seen in a while.

”I’m sorry, [Name].”

You don’t move. ”For what?”

”I was naive of your emotions after he passed. It was selfish of me to distance myself from you when you were also grieving. If I hadn’t gotten wounded badly that day, we would all still be together and he would claim the title of Water Pillar rather than me.”

You bring your hands to his sides, hovering over the folds of his attire.

”Yikes, so there’s no odds of me even becoming the Water Pillar? Hurtful, but I get it,” you jest lightly, but you’re aware that wasn’t what he was insinuating. ”Though if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I treated you harshly and expected you to overcome his death in terrible means. I abandoned you and never delivered any letters to you when you were probably worried about me.”

He shakes his head. ”I didn’t, either.”

”You’re right.” you wrap your arms around him fully, nuzzling your face into his chest. Your voice is muffled by his clothes when you speak. ”But we forgive each other, right?”

”No.”

You jerk your head up to meet his soft eyes that deviated from his sharp features.

”Not until you promise that you’ll be with me from now on.”

Since when did he get so bold?

”Was it like torture for you these past few years?” he doesn’t respond to the question so you continue. ”It was for me. That look you gave me when I left you hurt a lot. But I couldn’t do anything about it because of the mission I was assigned—the one with the two orphans.” You shift against his body, legs tingly from standing still for too long. ”Anyways, how is he doing right now? I heard he became a Pillar two years ago.”

”Tokitou?” You snap your fingers in response, thinking back to the air-headed and apathetic teenager you found with Amane and her children. ”He spaces out most of the time during the day.”

That’s all he has to say?

”Oh. Well, good for him. It’s remarkable for someone of his age to satisfy the Pillar requirements with so little training. I’m a little envious of him.”

The kid was wounded terribly when you arrived at his residence, clutching the hand of his lifeless twin brother. You don’t know much about him since you were appointed another task by Kagaya the day after, but you were still curious about what became of him.

”Who cares, though. My dream to be a Pillar is far behind me now.” You hum, thinking back to his statement from a few moments ago.

”Not until you promise that you’ll be with me from now on.”

What the hell was that? If anyone else had heard him, they would assume he was proposing to you.

Was it just you or was it getting hotter and hotter? Perhaps the body heat from Giyuu and the warmth of his haori was making your senses all fuzzy.

”Okay.” you fasten your arms tighter around him, rooting him in his spot. Your mind is spinning and your cheeks are flushed. ”Okay, I promise. Master is pretty lenient with team arrangements, so I don’t doubt that he’ll allow us. Perhaps it could be just like the old times where we protected each other, ate, and trained together. Would we be unstoppable? Maybe, but who knows. It wouldn’t be so bad though since I like you. Heh.”

It felt like you’ve said this before, maybe in the past to him. Déjà vu, probably.

He thanks you, but doesn’t say much after. You couldn’t see it in the night, but his complexion reddens, believing that you hadn’t given him your attention earlier.

”I heard you. Now, let’s go rest somewhere before reporting to Master tomorrow at dawn.”

Like a flash of lighting, you nudge Giyuu away and take his hand–haori swaying to and fro along with the motion–steering him to the Wisteria crest manor you had Tanjirou visit.

#chew writes #request #sabito x reader #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyuu x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny spoilers #kny #giyuu

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