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arctickat2400 · 2 months

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Love You More ~ Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: 2470

Warnings: insecure!reader, fluff, angst, tiny bit of blood, negative self talk

A/N 1: You can picture yourself wearing whatever you want in this, but I've originally pictured myself wearing a cropped tank top and underwear cuz even though I'm insecure about my body, I love chilling around the house without pants, and in my head I know Henry loves it too lol

A/N 2: You will see in this imagine that I mention a blanket. It is a type of sensory blanket, a small square of fabric that my mom made me that contains eight tags made of ribbon around the edges. It helps me when I'm anxious (which is basically 24/7) in which I will rub the tags between my fingers to calm my mind, keep my mind and hands occupied.

Hope you enjoy!!

***

You hate what you see when you look in the mirror - your soft belly, thick thighs, wide hips, love handles, cellulite-covered skin. You loved when friends and family complimented you, but your mind never believed them. Looking at each and every detail of your body, your mind becomes overwhelmed and your emotions become too intense. A shrill scream escapes your throat as you ram your fist into the glass, shattering it to pieces. You watch in tears as the shattered glass falls from the surface before your legs give out and you collapse to the cold tile floor.

Henry had just gotten home about an hour ago. You had seemed fine then, happy to see him as usual, jumping into his arms as he pulled you into a sweet ‘hello’ kiss. However, as he sat at the kitchen island on his laptop reading over his script waiting for you to join him again, Henry knew that that had all changed when he heard your heart wrenching scream.

Henry paid no mind to the bar stool toppling over as he stood and ran up the stairs toward the sound that scared him most, Kal right on his heels. Rushing into the bathroom to see your curled up in tears on the floor, Henry doesn’t hesitate to kneel down beside your shaking body. Taking your trembling body in his arms, Henry tries to keep his own tears at bay when he sees the blood and tiny glass shards on your knuckles. Looking up at the now non-existent mirror and the shattered glass across the floor, Henry knows exactly what’s going on in your mind, holding you tighter in his strong embrace as you cry in agony. Henry looked at Kal sitting patiently in the bathroom door, and he knew he was just as worried as his father was about his mother.

You’ve always been insecure about your body, even though Henry never ceases to tell you how much he loves your body. He thought that after you met him, you were getting better. And you have, but still, on those not so rare days, you’ll break down in tears. He hates that nothing has been able to help you long term. But, Henry is always there to hold you and take care of you, no matter what, and he vows to always be there for you.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” Henry whispers in your ear softly as he rocks you in his lap. You hold on to his arm, squeezing his bicep in your grip despite the pain in your right hand. Henry runs his fingers through your hair, placing a kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe your angered mind.

Henry listens as your labored breaths begin to calm, looking down to see your eyes closed. He let out a sigh of relief, even if it was only temporary, when he realized you had fallen asleep.

You’ve been suffering with chronic fatigue for so long and it’s taken a toll on you physically, mentally, and emotionally. It prevents you from doing certain everyday things. Henry’s been there for you through it all and you can’t imagine how hard it would be without him. You could never thank him enough for how amazing he’s been since you met. But he hates that neither of you have been able to find a way to help. Some may say that what you’re going through needs to be fixed. However, Henry doesn’t want to fix you, because he doesn’t believe there’s anything broken. You just need a bit of extra love and care, and he has vowed to spend the rest of his life giving you that and more.

Henry, still holding your sleeping form in his arms, your head lying against his chest, leans forward into the bathroom cabinet under the sink to grab the rubbing alcohol and a washcloth. He takes a pair of tweezers and begins pulling out the small, yet knowingly painful shards of glass from your skin. He was thankful you were out cold so you didn’t have to experience the pain consciously. Kal, having laid down in the doorway, cried out after having smelled the blood and watching Henry take care of his mum.

“It’s alright, buddy. Mum’s alright,” Henry assures his dog, looking over with a half smile to see Kal’s face lying on his paws, staring at the scene in front of him.

After all the pieces were out, Henry washes over your knuckles with the alcohol, cleaning the blood from your cuts and down your hands where the blood ran. Once clean, he wraps gauze around your hand before picking you up and carrying you bridal style to your shared bed. Henry places you down carefully, covering you in the comforter before placing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He patted the bed softly for Kal to jump up and keep you company while Henry went back into the bathroom to pick up the broken glass.

Henry couldn’t bear to leave you after what you just went through, so after cleaning, he sat in the recliner beside your bed, looking over you to make sure you were okay. Smiling sweetly at the sight of Kal’s large, fluffy head laying down on your thigh, Henry picked up his book from his bedside table to read. He always kept an eye on you, looking up every now and then when you would stir, only to turn over to get more comfortable in your sleep.

After a while, it seems Henry had been reading the same sentences over and over, having trouble comprehending the words on the pages. His mind was plagued with thoughts of you and how all he wanted to do was help you, take care of you, love you so you wouldn’t think such horrible things about yourself anymore.

The anxiety got the best of him, needing to get up and walk around instead. Henry stood up, placing a kiss on your forehead and, making sure you were still alright, he headed down the stairs quietly, Kal staying behind while cuddling up next to you. Henry paced around the loft - through the living room, down the hall, even going back up the stairs and into the bathroom before coming back out and passing you again on the bed. Kal raises his head each time Henry would pass before laying his head back down beside you.

Henry finally ends up back downstairs and in the kitchen, leaning on the island, rubbing his face in slight distress. Henry hated seeing you in such pain. He hated that he couldn’t take the pain away, or at least some of it, take some of the weight off your shoulders and help you carry it. He hated that he couldn’t help you and make it all better. But he also knew that he would not stop trying, and he would continue to love you through it all.

Henry is in his own world when you decide to make your appearance, Kal following you down the steps and into the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed either of you until you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, laying your head between his shoulder blades.

“Hey, darling,” He greets softly, a sweet smile coming to his lips at just the mere presence of you. He brings one hand up to smooth over your bandaged hand that’s placed across his chest, intertwining your fingers. Henry turns in your embrace, taking you into his arms and holding your head to his chest, brushing his hand through your hair, his other hand gently rubbing your side.

The longer you stand there, the easier it is for your mind to become overwhelmed again with negative thoughts. Henry feels you start to shiver, hearing your soft sniffles as tears cascade down your cheeks.

“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay, baby. Everything’s alright,” Henry tries calming you before placing his hands under your thighs and picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, clinging to him like a koala. He rubs your back as he carries you to the couch. Sitting down, he holds you in his lap for a little while longer, Kal jumping up on the couch and laying beside you, placing his head on your thigh, looking up at you with sad eyes. As your sniffles and cries die down, Henry, with a bit of hesitation of your own, pushes you back, holding you close enough to be able to see your beautiful, but sorrowful red eyes.

“What’s going on, sweetheart? Tell me what’s on your mind,” Henry requests as he brushes his thumb over your red, tear stained cheeks, looking into your eyes with such worry and sadness, yet the love and adoration never ceases.

You look down at your hands, picking at the skin, before Henry takes both your hands in his while leaning forward to grab your blanket from the coffee table, handing it to you.

“I’ve just… I’ve been so tired lately. And I’ve been eating so much that I’ve gained weight. I’ve hardly been able to control my hunger and my mind is plagued by food, and all I can think about is how much I hate myself and my body because I can’t control any of this and I’m sick of being so damn tired all the time!” You pause, your breathing becoming heavy and labored, tears rushing from your eyes, as you smooth your fingers over one of the tags on your blanket.

“And it doesn’t help that the thought keeps coming to me that you didn’t sign up for this and I’m scared you might feel like you’re stuck with me and how could you still love me like this?” You almost scream in tears, Kal letting out a worried whine in response. Henry takes you back into his arms, a look of panic on his face as he holds your head against his chest, his other hand smoothing down over your hair.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. This is the only place I want to be. If I could hold you forever, that’s exactly what I’d do,” Henry holds you tight as you cry for the next several minutes, fisting his shirt in your grip as you couldn’t keep your tears at bay.

“Can you look at me now, princess?” Henry asks you, placing his hands on either side of your face, pulling you back to look at him. You sniffle as you lock eyes with his mesmerizing cerulean blue eyes. He gives you a reassuring smile, rubbing his thumbs across your temples.

“Listen very closely, my love. I have told you so many times, and it will never cease to be the truth, darling - no matter how you look, how much you weigh, how much you eat, now matter how much of literally anything you do, I will always, always, love you, no matter what. I don’t care if you lose or you gain weight. I love you for you, and I will always love you. There is not a single thing about you that could change that.” He has to repeat some things so he knows that it will be ingrained in your mind.

“Because the truth is, baby,” Henry pauses briefly with a smile, chuckling. “I can only ever love you more. Every day, when I think I can’t possibly love you more, you will do something crazy or silly, or say something absolutely outrageous, and it just makes me love you so much more. I still don’t know how you do it, but you never cease to amaze me, my sweet baby girl. And nothing about your body will ever change that,” He says it all with a huge smile on his face, his eyes never leaving yours, and you find yourself crying not sad tears, but happy ones now as you rush into Henry’s arms.

“I love you so much,” You whisper in his ear, holding onto him tight, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You, my love, are the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met, and there will never be a day where I stop loving you, because it is impossible for me not to love you,” Henry admits, his arms tightening around your torso. He kisses the side of your head before you pull back, placing your hands on either side of his head now, leaning in and pressing your lips to his in a passionate expression of pure love and devotion.

“Now, if you are ever thinking anything negative about your body again, my beautiful girl, you make sure to come straight to me and I will do everything in my power to make those thoughts go away, promise me?” Henry demands, firmly but in sweet assurance.

You nod your head with a small smile, “I promise.” Henry smiles as he looks down and begins rubbing across your tummy with his knuckles.

“You do know that even though I’m not with you for your body, I still believe you are absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous? There is not a single day I don’t look at you and think, ‘Damn, how did I get so lucky to be able to hold this stunning human being in my arms everyday?’ I mean how could someone not love this adorable belly of yours?” Henry chuckles as he leans down and blows a raspberry against your tummy. A deep red blush comes to your cheeks as a laugh erupts from your lips.

“I think it’s the other way around, my love.” You giggle, calming down as Henry, still with a smile on his face, comes back up and looks up into your eyes while rubbing your soft sides, his thumbs brushing over your belly. “How did I get so lucky to meet not only the handsomest man on earth, but the most caring, loving, warmest man with the biggest heart of gold who never ceases to tell me how much he loves me?” You smile shyly, your thumb brushing across his bottom lip.

“We’re just a match made in heaven, my darling,” Henry says as you both laugh softly together, meeting in a sweet kiss, Henry’s hands on either of your thighs, holding you to him.

You feel something cold against your arm and you both look down to see a smiling Kal looking up at both of you. “Hi, sweet boy,” You smile at Kal, running your fingers through the thick fur on his head while you lean forward to lay your head on Henry’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, thanking God for this extraordinary woman he gets to call his.

#fluff #angst #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill imagines #Kal Cavill #insecure!reader

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raayllum · 9 months

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How do you cope when things get hard?

that is a very good question with a multitude of often times only half good answers, depending on personality, hardship, and circumstance. but i will do my best, as the past few months for me have been extremely hard in some ways, and very fulfilling in other ways, but like

your life never stops falling apart, and you also never stop figuring it out, i suppose. all things are temporary, even if it feels like pain will last forever (and sometimes it does, but it almost always changes shape and becomes easier to carry). give yourself space to grieve and cry and get frustrated. remind yourself that fear is a natural emotion, that you don't have to feel the way you feel, either (especially if it's mental health related); if there are resources out there, take them (especially if you don't feel worthy of them). you don't have to suffer to deserve help. you don't have to be perfect to ask for support. ask for support from wherever you feel comfortable and safe.

for me my self soothing tactics are making sure i have a good drink of choice so i don't get dehydrated (non alcoholic mind you), cry if i need to and then work to figure out why i'm crying, hold space for my feelings and listen to songs that help calm me down (usually sleeping at last). find what works for you - giving yourself little treats if and when you can, reading/watching things that are comforting or things that make you cry if you need/want a good cry. hard times will pass and there will be new sources and moments of happiness you can't imagine. there's nothing wrong with distracting yourself when you need to, either, so long as you're also giving yourself time to process.

in the meantime, some things that may be helpful:

this post written a while ago to a similar ask that i still think will hopefully resonate <3

if you need some cheering up tag on my main blog (funny/heartwarming posts)

comfort playlist

#thanks for asking #anonymous #dragons rambles #life advice #take care nonnie <3 #forbidden op lore

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infinitebells · 3 years

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annoying: chapter 30

iwaizumi hajime has hated you, his assistant athletic trainer, since he knew you in high school. you on the other hand have bothered him for fun for as long as you knew him, not realizing your romantic feelings for him had manifested in that way. what happens when you two blockheads finally come to terms with how you feel?

a/n: i was lowkey unsure of this chapter at first, but now i fucking love it. also sorry for the late update, i was super busy today and didn’t have the time to perfect it!!

———

“y/n, come on! you can’t stay in there forever!” bokuto’s yelling and knocking were the only things keeping you from drifting back into a fitful sleep. your anxiety and self doubt had been plaguing you for the past few days, which was how you ended up buried beneath blankets in bokuto’s bed. you knew it was only a temporary relief from the the weight of your self loathing, but you physically didn’t have the strength to pull yourself out of bed.

“i can and i will,” you yell out. you hear a muffled sigh behind the door before it clicks open, and the entirety of bokuto’s weight falls onto the bed. you feel your eyes gloss over with new tears as he shuffles under the blanket and wraps his arms around you. you refuse to face away from the wall, only curling in on yourself more as the fresh tears fall once again.

“i know it sucks, but he re-“

“i don’t want to talk about him right now,” you whimper out, and bokuto only hugs you tighter. he doesn’t speak again, only drawing soothing circles on your hip. he pulls you back enough so that his head rests on top of yours, and lets you cry in his arms.

yaku and atsumu had been over earlier, but given your miserable state, they left early to give you alone time with bokuto. they knew you two were best friends, and they knew he was probably one of the only people right now who could cheer you up. so you stayed there, tears leaking out of your eyes and sliding down your temple.

“can we at least get you showered and changed, and then stop by your apartment to get more clothes?” bokuto finally murmurs in the silent room. he breathes a sigh of relief when you nod weakly, letting him help you up and out of bed and into his bathroom. he sets your clean and folded clothes on the counter and waits outside for you to finish. you should be finding comfort in the warmth of the shower, but you can’t decide if the water is scalding hot or freezing cold. by the time you’re finished, your clothes on and hair brushed, bokuto has everything you need, car keys in hand.

the car ride to your apartment is silent, but you can’t help but notice the way bokuto’s fingers drum restlessly on the steering wheel.

“are you okay?” your voice is weaker than you intended, but bokuto still hears you. the smile he flashes you seems stressed, worried almost.

“i should be asking you that,” he says naturally, as though he isn’t struggling to stay happy and calm.

“you seem tense,” you mumble, eyes moving back to the road. you don’t see the way his eyes flick to the parking lot of your apartment complex as he pulls up, almost in a searching way. he stays silent as he pulls into one of the reserved guest spots, shutting the car off and turning to face you.

“i gotta call atsumu and update him so you can go ahead of me ok? i’ll meet you up there,” he says, smiling once again. still fake. you nod anyways, dragging yourself out of the car and into your building. the elevator ride up feels like five seconds as you go in and out of conscious thinking. you barely register the fact that you’ve reached your apartment until the cool metal of the doorknob shocks you back. with a heavy sigh, you push the door open. immediately, your keys drop in shock, and your hand flies to your mouth.

laid out in front of you, your favorite flower petals decorate the floor of your apartment. lightly scented candles decorate your counters and end tables, and in the middle of it all, iwaizumi hajime stands with bags of takeout in front of what looks like a fort made from blankets from his apartment.

“what the fuck.” it comes out as a whisper, and you see the blush creep up his face.

“this is my way of showing you that i’m being genuine. i know you don’t like grand gestures, so i figured i’d keep it simple and stick to your favorites,” he explains nervously. he sets down the takeout bags at the entrance to the fort before slowly walking over to you. you make no effort to move away as he stops a foot in front of you, eyes searching your face.

“how’d you get in my apartment?” you finally look up to meet his eyes, and the blush on his face grows even more.

“bokuto gave atsumu your spare key, which he gave to me,” he says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. you nod distantly, still taking in your surroundings.

“are you okay? did i overstep? i can leave if you wa-“

“don’t go,” you blurt out. you surprise yourself, as well as him. his eyes widen, but he remains silent, letting you adjust to the added decorations of your apartment. he lets you walk around him, silently closing your door as you slowly walk around the kitchen and living area of your apartment. your hands trail over the soft flower petals that lay on the counter, and you duck your head into the fort curiously. inside, dainty string lights decorate the perimeter, and a small monitor set up with your favorite anime lays at the very front. two soft pillows, and even more fuzzy blankets from iwaizumi’s apartment, including your favorite, lay in front, ready to be laid under. when you poke your head back out, iwaizumi is still standing in your foyer.

“do you like it?” his voice is quiet, hopeful. you don’t say a word as you walk back over to him, and you can see the tension in his shoulders reach the breaking point. which is why you surge forward, arms flying around his middle, and head buried in his chest. you don’t know when you started crying, or how you ended up kneeling on the floor with iwaizumi kneeling too. all you know is that he lets you cry and babble rushed apologies as tears soak his t-shirt. he says nothing, running a soothing hand down your head and onto your back. only when your sobs have died down, and you’re reduced to sniffling, does he sit back and look at you.

“please don’t be sorry. i’m the one who should be sorry. i rushed you when you hadn’t had the time to recover, and it was probably really overwhelming. you did nothing wrong, your feelings were perfectly valid okay? i’m glad that you’re here now, and i’m more than happy to take things slower. all i want is you in my life okay?” his words are soft yet confident. it’s the exact reassurance you needed. which is why you nod, allowing him to lead you into the fort and pull the blankets over you. it’s why you lean against him while you two eat the takeout he brought, laughing at your show. it’s why once the food is done, and the candles have burned low, you turn to your side, hugging him tightly as you let your eyes flutter shut. and when you finally drift off to sleep, you miss the three words iwaizumi murmurs into your hair as he too joins you in sleep.

no matter though, you’ll always be able to hear it next time.

———

masterlist

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#haikyuu #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #hq #hq smau #hq x reader #hq x female reader #iwaizumi #iwaizumi smau #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x female reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime smau #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x female reader #.annoying

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britishboystm · 3 years

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The Goodbye Prank | The Day We Met: A Fred Weasley Mini Series

Inspired by:

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (minors dni), oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, swearing, lots and lots of crying, deep hand cuts, angst!!

WC: 7k+

Chapter Summary: The boys are ready to move on to bigger and better things. What happens when Y/N finds out?

Series Masterlist

***

March 13th, 1996

“Hold still.” Y/N spoke sternly as Fred jerked his hand away from her, wincing in pain.

George was pacing back and forth in the background, glancing over at the couple every so often, anger filling his entire being.

She had really gone and done it this time. That poor excuse for a professor.

“Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.” Y/N seethed through gritted teeth as she concentrated on the task at hand.

“It really isn’t that big of a deal Y/N. It’ll heal on its own.” Fred cried out, not wanting his brother and girlfriend to worry about him.

“No, Fred you don’t understand! That bitch has gone too far this time. Detention is one thing... but this,” She placed a drop of alcohol on the plethora of cuts, making Fred cry in pain. Tears welled his eyes and he kept his lower lip beneath his teeth to quiet himself.

He didn’t want to be a bother.

“This is abuse, she can’t keep getting away with this!” She continued to rant.

“Y/N darling,” He spoke assuringly, slipping his hand away from her tending grasp and placing it on her cheek to calm her down. His eyes were soft and pleading for her to settle.

“She will never hurt me. This is temporary, but she will never truly hurt me.” A tear slipped out of her eye. She couldn’t help but feel that this was all her fault, that she was the reason he had gotten detention in the first place.

The day before, Y/N and Fred had been snogging in a dark corner near the restricted section in the library, and while she was doing her daily lurking, Umbridge came across the couple, threatening punishment immediately.

Before she could get a hold of both of them, Fred pushed Y/N away, demanding for her to run back to her dorm.

He himself hadn’t had the time to escape which led to him getting captured by Umbridge’s evil clutches, even if she only stood at a whopping four foot eleven.

So here he was, bleeding from the hand, all thanks to that pink toad's “special” quill.

In Fred’s chicken scratch writing, his hand read;

I will not coerce with mudbloods.

It had been speculated since she began “teaching” at Hogwarts that she was secretly a death eater. This was strong evidence to support said claim.

“This is all my fault.” Y/N murmured, making both twins shoot their heads up in surprise.

“Godric no! Y/N never say that again! I don’t care what it takes to keep you safe. And I also don’t care about your blood status. You are kind and smart and beautiful and a brilliant witch.” His words were full of hurt, hurt that she would think that of herself.

Fred knew Y/N was self conscious of the fact that she wasn’t raised in a wizarding household. That she had to work twice as hard to be where she was in terms of her studies, all because she had to play catch up with her classmates. It took a toll on her and Fred knew this. George knew this. Everyone knew this.

“I’m sorry Freddie I ju-,” He quickly grabbed her cheeks and kissed her to shut her up.

“Just heal my hand love.” He muttered against her lips.

George looked away, feeling like an intruder during a very personal moment.

“Alright.” She sighed out with a soft giggle and sniffle, resting her forehead against his. He soothed her further with a tender caress of her hands. Something she had grown to appreciate deeply.

“Vulnera Sanentur.” She finally spoke, slightly moving her wand and watching as the venomous words began to vanish from his skin.

“Thank you.” He sighed in relief, feeling the pain dissipate with every passing second.

“You’re welcome Freddie.”

April 2nd, 1996

It was the day of the OWL examinations and Fred and George had only one thing on their mind.

Revenge.

After a quidditch incident in which they knocked Malfoy off of his broom for speaking badly about their mother, Umbridge had made the biased decision to ban the twins from ever playing again. And then on top of that, she confiscated their brooms.

Then it was detention for Dumbledore’s Army along with two of his brothers, his sister, his girlfriend and a bunch of his friends and classmates.

Then he and George got in trouble with Umbridge once again for consoling a crying first year who had been a victim to her cruel and unethical detention practices.

Expulsion was a given for what they were about to do. But they didn’t care.

The boys had decided that after Umbridge ruined everything that was good about Hogwarts (e.g, Dumbledore's Army and Quidditch), education was no longer a beneficial part of their lives. Instead, using the money Harry had so graciously given them from his Triwizard earnings, they decided to finally jump ship and start a joke shop in Diagon Alley. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes they would call it.

Now all that was left was what they considered to be their most brilliant prank yet.

And this was where Y/N came into the picture.

The three of them strolled down a corridor towards the great hall where Professor Umbridge was administering the OWL examination for the fifth year students.

Y/N was more than happy to help the boys with their prank, often being used as a siren for their sneaky schemes. She didn't, however, know the exact reason for this prank.

She didn’t know this was goodbye.

Fred and George drew a blank when trying to figure out how to tell Y/N about their plans for the future. It killed Fred to think that this could possibly mean leaving his girlfriend behind, even if it had been a dream of his and George’s for so long to start the biggest pranking empire the wizarding world had ever seen.

So while the twins spent weeks and weeks planning their departure, Fred also tried to think of ways to ask Y/N to go with them and leave Hogwarts for good.

Finally at the entrance of the great hall, they quickly went over the plan in secret whispers. Y/N then waited for her cue to enter the large space to create the much needed distraction.

With a tap on the shoulder, Fred and George gave Y/N the go ahead to start her one woman show. She let out a shake of nerves and ran in, coming to a complete stop at Umbridge's feet at the front of the hall.

“There are OWL examinations happening in this room. What is the meaning of this?” Umbridge spoke in a rather agitated but sickly sweet tone.

“There’s a few students playing around with banned Weasley products outside in the halls Professor. Causing a real disruption.” Umbridge clenched her fists. She couldn’t stand the twins.

All eyes were on Y/N. Most students knew she was Fred’s girlfriend so it was quite amusing to see the confusion on their faces.

Umbridge would have also seen through the act if she hadn’t been currently seething to the core.

“Right well, lead me to them Ms L/N.” She said tugging at the bottom of her pink tweed blazer. Y/N nodded, beginning to walk ahead of Umbridge towards the entrance, all the while, giving the boys the countdown for their surprise.

At one, Y/N noticed a gleam in the twins' eyes as Fred tossed a Whiz-bang right in front of Umbridge’s nose. Y/N quickly got out of the way as the Whiz-bang began to wreak its havoc. Umbridge yelped and screeched as she tried to outrun the now fully formed dragon that had emerged from the sparks. The professor was no match for Fred and George Wealsey, that was for certain.

As everything began to escalate, Fred and George mounted their confiscated brooms with conviction.

Fred took a moment to look over at his beaming girlfriend before placing a quick reassuring peck on her lips. The boys then pushed off the ground and zipped through the large room, their hoots and hollers of adrenaline trailing behind them.

Students cheered as examination papers floated about, all caused by the gusts of wind from the speed of the boys brooms. Then once enough students had gathered on to the balcony, the letter W appeared in the sky in the form of fireworks. It stood proudly amongst the clouds that it almost brought a tear to Y/N’s eye. These boys were legends.

It was quite spectacular to say the least.

———

Later that night, Y/N laid awake, feeling slightly concerned about the twins. Neither one of them had contacted her to say where they were or when they would be back.

Feeling uneasy, Y/N pushed her dark maroon sheets off of her body and headed towards the window hoping to see any sign of the twins returning.

Nothing.

She let out a shaky sigh but became startled when she heard a quiet thump behind her.

Once she quickly spinned around she noticed the outline of her boyfriend standing in the darkness, with just a splash of moonlight cascading over his face. Even in the shadow she knew which twin she was dealing with.

“Fred!” She whispered through a smile before jumping from the window seal and running over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her with a tightness that she had never felt from anyone else. It was almost as though if he were to let go she would simply slip away into nothing. She frowned over his shoulder and pushed back from the hug to look into his eyes, hoping to find all of the answers to the questions she had in them.

“Fred?” She asked, beginning to notice that sick stomach feeling again within her.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.” His tone was stern and pointed.

She felt an inkling as to what this was all about.

“Fred don’t worry, If Umbridge tries to expel you I’m sure Dumbledore can override it, right?” His expression didn’t shift.

“Right?” She repeated with an unsure tone, starting to think that the worry of expulsion wasn’t why he was here. The flips and turns in her gut became more and more alive. She could hear her heart beating in her ears. Why wasn’t he saying anything god dammit?

“Did something happen Freddie?” Her voice was shaky, almost as if she couldn’t trust it.

“I need to talk to you about something. Something important that could change the rest of our lives.” Y/N could sense his nervousness from a mile away.

“Bloody hell Fred this doesn’t make me feel good.” He quickly placed a hand on her cheek to calm her nerves. She instinctively leaned into his calloused palm.

“Before you say anything, let me explain and then you can tell me what you think.”

“I’m thinking that the other girls will wake up if we don’t have this conversation somewhere else.” He finally looked at their surroundings noticing the other bodies sleeping soundly within the room.

“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the dark dorm and down to the undisturbed common room.

“You’re scaring me Fred. Tell me what’s going on.” She watched him closely as he paced back and forth, clearly thinking about what to say next.

“George and I are leaving.”

“Not if Dumbledore has anything to say about it.” She responded, still very much left in the dark. Fred released a sigh and sat her down on one of the couches. The crackling fire filled the tense void between the two lovers.

“No, Y/N, we are leaving tonight. Getting away from Umbridge, from Hogwarts. We have a storefront in Diagon Alley that we are going to turn into the most wicked joke shop any witch or wizard has ever seen.” Y/N’s face was unreadable.

“Freddie the prank is over now. You don’t need t-” She said with a nervous laugh which he cut off.

“Y/N I’m serious. I know it’s hard to believe, but this time I need you to trust me. We are leaving Hogwarts, for good. George and I are going to be creating one of the biggest wizarding enterprises ever…. and, I want you to come with us…. with me.”

Y/N pulled her hands away from Fred’s. The skin on her neck crawled.

“Fred I- I don’t know what to say.” Her breathing began to quicken. She was panicking. She couldn’t just leave. She had friends, an education, a life here at Hogwarts.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just need you to know that I love you and this doesn’t mean that I want us to end.” She shook her head repeatedly, wiping away the tears streaming down her face.

Fred grabbed her cheeks and pushed his lips against hers. He could feel the salty wetness from her eyes transfer from her skin to his, and it broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he was the cause of it.

Y/N wanted to push him away so badly. He had made the choice to walk away from everything that they had built together. How could she ever forgive him? Instead of conveying this to him, she moved to straddle his lap. He leaned against the back of the couch and placed his hands on her hips, holding on for dear life.

“Please.” He whispered.

She didn’t respond but rather pushed herself deeper against him, slightly grinding her hips.

“I’m sorry.” Was all she said, in a soft shaky tone. They both knew what she was apologizing for.

They took a moment to just look at one another.

Y/N then spoke before she had time to think her words through,

“Show me you really mean what you say. Show me that you truly love me. Show me before you go and forget all about me.” Tears flowed between the two of them.

“I could never forget you.” He said in a hurt whisper. Her eyes trailed down to their connected laps in shame, embarrassed that she was making a huge selfish fuss over his plans of a brighter future. Fred took her face in his hands and made sure to really get a good look at her before swiftly laying her flat on her back against the couch.

“Is this alright?” He asked while softly stroking her thigh. She let out a trapped sigh and nodded as she shimmied herself further into the cushions. Fred gave her a melancholy smile before leaning in and enveloping her mouth with his.

Immediately they began to collectively moan as Fred grazed his hand up and down Y/N’s goose fleshed skin and her clothed pubic bone pushed up against his sensitive groin. Just the feeling of his light feather touch had her trembling to his every will. Once he felt that her legs had gotten enough attention, he removed his lips from hers and moved his hands from her thighs as he looked down at her with a face filled with care and worry.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

His fingers were creeping up her inner thigh and past the fabric of her cotton pyjama shorts. She nodded with a soft hum of approval. She bit down on her swollen bottom lip as he began to circle her clit with his middle and index fingers. Then her hand shot up to grab his forearm at the same time as her legs tensed up with pleasure.

“Please Freddie, m-more.” She whined while using her hand to dictate his speed and movements against her sensitive centre.

Fred watched in amazement as his girlfriend laid submissively beneath him, her hair sprawled out as she shimmed and jerked about, all because of his large strong hand that was currently between her legs.

They had never had sex before. The two of them had talked about it a great deal throughout their relationship, but because they spent so much of their time surrounded by friends during school and family during the holidays, it was difficult to ever get a moment to do so.

Fred never really cared about getting caught or the idea of a quicky. He was Fred Weasley after all. Any way he could feel her skin against his was ideal. Y/N on the other hand, had always wanted her first time to be something meaningful. She wanted it to be thought out, where they wouldn’t be distrubed and could have all the time in the world to express their love for one another.

So never once did Fred imagine that this was how the night would end. In the middle of the warmly lit common room where any insomnia stricken student could walk in unannounced.

Fred wanted her to drop everything. He wanted her to follow in his footsteps. But she was her own person, and she had to make her own choices, no matter how much it pained him. At the very least they were able to say their goodbyes by finally giving themselves to each other, whole heartedly.

“I’m going to put a finger in. Is that alright?” He asked softly in her ear, intentionally making it so his mouth hovered close to her neck. She shivered at the feeling of his breath rolling off of her skin.

“Yes Freddie, more than alright.” She was his to take, anyway he wanted.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it, okay love?” She nodded lightly, completely under his spell.

Fred detached his fingers from her hypersensitive bundle and slowly dragged them down to swirl around the wetness that had formed at her entrance. Once she was fully prepped by his digit, he slipped his index finger inside of her. Even with one digit, he could tell just how tight she was.

“Merlin, you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned out his inner thoughts before attacking her neck again with a plethora of horny kisses.

Her jaw slacked open in pleasure and her back arched off of the sticky fabric beneath her. His methodical breathing gave her a pace in which she could thrust herself against his finger.

Fred noticed her clench and speed up her hips movements. Not wanting her to finish so quickly, he slowly pulled his finger out of her warmth, resulting in a whine escaping her lips.

“Freddie, come back. Please!” She cried out, reaching out for him. Instead of giving in to her (no matter how badly he wanted to), he slipped off of the couch and got onto his knees in front of her. Y/N sat up and faced him, looking like the goddess Venus herself.

“Off, darling.” He finally said before tugging at the waistband of her shorts. Y/N happily obliged by lifting her hips up and letting him pull the shorts past the curvature of her bum and down her legs to the floor.

“Can you open up for me darling?’ He asked gently, caressing her knees in a circular motion. Y/N adjusted herself in her seated position, the sound of the leather couch filling their ears as she shifted her hips. She then took a deep inhale before slowly opening her legs more and planting her feet far apart from each other. The draft of the room hit her, making her clench her toes for a moment.

Fred’s face heated up as he took in her glistening inner thighs and centre.

“Absolutely stunning love, really.” He bashfully admitted while stroking her spread apart thighs.

This was not the Fred Wealsey that everyone else knew. The crazy, careless prankster who had everyone wrapped around his finger. The Fred Weasley who constantly told innapropriate jokes and boasted about his pranking achievements along with his party animal ways. As he sat there on his knees, between his girlfriends legs, he came to the conclusion that he was the one wrapped around her finger. He was nothing more than a desperate boy who was hopelessly in love with the girl above him.

“All yours Freddie.” Her voice was like sweet red velvet cake getting sliced into on a warm late spring afternoon. Fred let out a soft groan in response to her inviting words before pushing himself forward slightly, preparing himself to attach his lips to her core. He slowly tilted his head to the side, allowing himself full access. His stomach contracted and he squeezed his thighs together, trying to keep the ache in his trousers at bay.

Once he was able to somewhat pull himself together, he placed a gentle kiss to her clit, resulting in her hole clenching and her hips abruptly bucking forward. She grabbed his short red locks in the process and looked down at him through half lidded eyes.

“Look at me baby.” She whispered seductively. His soft brown irises slowly shifted up along her gorgeous welcoming figure to meet her eyes, a clouded look of lust filling them. Now giving her his full attention, Fred moved on from the light kisses he was administering to fully lapping up her arousal with a new found confidence.

“Fuck.” She groaned out while jutting her hips forward and threading her fingers through his hair harshly. He sighed in contentment as he continued to watch his girlfriend unravel above him. All because of his tongue.

And once more, right before she could finish, Fred removed his mouth from her core, wetness covering most of his lower face, chin and all. Before he could make any witty comments about how spent she looked, Y/N grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up onto the couch to lay on top of her.

His shoulders rose and fell as he panted, still catching his breath from devouring her seconds ago. His covered torso pressed against hers and they could both feel each other's hearts racing, keeping in time with one another.

“Stay with me. Just for a bit.” She pleaded quietly, sadness evident in her voice and tears sitting in the lower waterline of her eyes. Fred immediately sat up and watched her lay deeper along the couch before straddling her waist. He then unzipped his striped sweater, throwing it behind him absentmindedly. Y/N looked up at the red headed boy on top of her with so much love and admiration, moving her hands up and down his clothed chest and stomach. Fred then pulled off his t-shirt, exposing his bare upper body.

Feeling absolutely feral from seeing his lightly freckled porcelain chest, Y/N yanked Fred down by the neck to press their lips together. Most of the time when they kissed, it would be fairly contained and sweet. Now was not one of those times. Teeth clashed and tongues swirled freely making the kiss messy, sloppy and feverish.

Wanting even more contact, Fred pulled one of his hands out from behind Y/N’s head and tucked it under the button up lounge top she had on. She let out a small gasp as he began messaging one of her breasts. He couldn’t go another second without having them exposed and ready for his tender touch.

Quickly sitting up again, Fred started to unbutton the fabric with shaky hands, prominent pants of lust coming from his throat. Noticing him struggling, Y/N anxiously placed her hands over his and started helping him with the buttons.

Once the final button was undone, Y/N’s supple breasts were finally exposed. The cool air caused her nipples to harden and once Fred had fully taken them in, he brought himself down to her chest, sucking on the flesh happily.

Needy for more of him, Y/N dragged her hand down his stomach, stopping at the buckle of his belt. With a few aggressive tugs of the hand me down leather, Fred brought his hand down to help her unbuckle it, gently grazing her hand in the process.

Once the belt was removed, Y/N feverishly pulled at the zipper of his trousers. She was able to achieve the action on her own fairly quickly and began to feel around his lower section, putting her hand past the elastic band of his striped boxers. When she felt his hardened dick, a multitude of somersaults awoken within her. She was hoping somersaults wouldn’t be the only thing she would feel her gut that night.

She took him in her hand, making sure not to grip his aching member too harshly. He bucked forward and closed his eyes, letting out the most beautiful sound that had ever graced Y/N’s ears. Seeing her effect on the older boy had her stroking him faster and faster. Precome from his red tip began to seep between her fingers.

“Yes, yes!” He let slip out with a gasp, digging his face into her neck. She then slipped her hand out from his boxers and trousers, not letting him finish. It was a small act of defiance for doing the same to her earlier.

He whined quietly, nuzzling his nose further into her skin, begging for any kind of release.

“Lift up love.’ She said sweetly, which he did with very little objection. Her arms came around his waist and she pushed his trouser and boxers down more, giving her a full view of his arse as she looked over his shoulder from where she laid. She couldn’t help but stare.

Getting frustrated with the inconvenience of the material, Fred kicked off his shoes and used his feet to push the constrictive material off his lower half completely, including his socks.

Y/N and Fred were now fully naked and exposed.

“Fred, I need you in me.” Y/N begged, desperate for the feeling of being filled up by the boy above her. Fred brought himself up further on to his elbows and tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

“Yeah?” He asked, needing her to be one hundred percent sure that this was what she wanted.

“Yeah.” She responded, eyes full of wonder. He couldn’t deny her what she wanted, especially when she gave him that look.

He moved his gaze down to his swollen member that was just barely hovering over her pubic bone. With a steady grip, he jerked himself a couple times to bring up a bead of precome before shifting slightly, laying the tip of his length against her lower lips.

Looking up one more time for confirmation, he was met with a soft expression on her face and her hand stroking his hair gently, giving him a sense of reassurance.

That was all he needed to continue.

He moved forward, looking down to watch his aching length disappear past the folds of her pulsing centre.

The feeling made him release a shaky breath and he laid himself flush against her naked chest, knowing deep down that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up for much longer even if he tried. Y/N hissed when he slowly pushed himself further and further inside of her, his member dragging against her contracting walls. To ease the pain she gripped onto his toned freckles biceps. All those years of swinging his beater bat could be felt underneath her fingertips.

“Freddie,” She cooed, indicating that the pain had started to subside. Her soft words sent sharp bolts of energy through his scalp and all the way down to the soles of his feet. The sensation made him want to move instead of this agonizing stillness they were currently in.

“Ca-can I-I m-move? Fuckin’ ‘ell, can I please move?” He begged, shakiness laced within his words.

“Yeah.” She whispered, tightening her grip on the roots of his hair. He groaned at the tugging sensation and began retracting his hips, watching Y/N tense and hiss as he did so. He waited a moment and then pushed forward again, watching as she let out a prominent sigh, releasing all of the stiffness she was holding. His thrusts were small, only moving slightly back and forth so she could get used to the feeling. Every once and a while she would let out these little mewls that made him want to snap his hips. But he had to have restraint.

For her sake.

It was as if she had read his mind because as he continued his methodically shallow pace, Y/N finally spoke up through her moans.

“More Freddie. I need more.” He lifted his head from the cozy spot he had created upon her chest to look her in the eye.

“Are you sure?’ The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

“Christ Freddie, you’re being too gentle! Please just fuck me like you mean it!”

He was dumbfounded by her words. Her begging and pleading awoke something within him and he went to grab her thigh, placing it against his hip. He then set his forehead against hers making sure their eyes stayed connected.

“Like this?” He asked confidently with a tinge of a smirk as he began to roll his hips hard against hers. She let out a loud whine and nodded before looking down to their connected bodies, biting her lip as he continued to slowly and deeply fuck into her the best way he could.

“Yeah just like that.” She responded softly, rubbing her hand along his toned and flexed upper back.

Moans and pants filled the room. Y/N was fully laid back, pulling Fred down with her. With their bodies so intimately entangled, Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing her heels against his tailbone, allowing for a new angle to emerge. He was now hitting her g-spot in this position, though she didn’t know that. To her it just felt euphoric.

It just felt right.

After a while she made it so she was fully wrapped around him when she flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him almost as though she were a koala.

“Oh my merlin, you f-f-feel so fu-fucking amazing Fred!” All he could respond with were low grunts of pleasure.

Fred began to quicken his pace when he started to feel his orgasm creep up like a distant sneeze. This had Y/N holding on to him for dear life, also feeling her own climax slowly approaching.

“I-I think I’m go-going to cum.” He spoke in broken words.

“Me too.” She replied through a gasp, gripping onto his shoulder blades that tensed up every time he pushed forward into her now overly sensitive core.

After a few more deep and needy thrusts, Fred began to pull his hips back so he could finish on Y/N’s stomach.

“No.” She breathed out, tightening the grip she had on him, digging her heels deeper into his sweaty lower back. He looked down at her with a confused but blissed out expression, still thrusting sporadically.

“Finish inside me, so I still have a part of you with me when you leave.” He stopped, completely caught off guard by her words. She wanted him to stay with her that badly. It killed him inside, especially as he watched a single tear run down her flushed cheek.

“If that’s okay.” She continued, beginning to retract into herself. She started to think that she had made him uncomfortable and had ruined the moment with her loose words. She covered her face in embarrassment, wishing she could disappear. It would be difficult though with Fred still very much buried inside of her.

Y/N was about to apologize for stepping out of line when she felt him begin to thrust into her with more vigour than before. She took her hands off of her eyes to see Fred concentrating heavily, his face turning into a light shade of red.

“ ‘m close. Gonna fill you up so well love.” Her heart swelled at his words. He was going to do it.

“Fuck, me too Freddie.” With a few more passionate and hard thrusts and a plethora of I love you’s, Fred let out a guttural groan while sloppily painting her jaw with wet, salvia ridden kisses. Then he finally spilled his seed deep inside of her. She gripped on to him roughly, jutting up against his now partly soft member as her legs shook along with her orgasm.

Fred could watch her do that all day.

They had both mostly come down at this point as Fred collapsed on top of Y/N, their sweaty bodies finding a perfect rhythm through their erratic breaths and heartbeats. No words were spoken. Instead they stared off into space, finding a sense of peacefulness in their collective blissed out state. Only the crackling fire made itself known.

Amongst all this, Y/N drew hearts over Fred’s naked back absentmindedly with her fingers. He had almost fallen asleep at her soothing touch. It was what he would miss the most. The silent recognition of love that the two of them shared.

“Freddie?”

He hummed in response, far too gone at that point to give her a coherent sentence.

“I hate that I’m asking you this but, when are you leaving?” Fred’s eyes widened and he quickly shot up to check the time.

It was one-thirty in the morning. He was supposed to meet George at the front entrance half an hour earlier.

“Shit!” He yelled as he jumped up and ran around the common room, resembling a chicken with its head cut off. He frantically collected his clothes that were scattered on the floor.

“Get dressed and grab some shoes.” He said while hopping around, attempting to get his long lower limbs through the leg holes of his trousers. Y/N didn’t ask any questions as she quickly slipped her pyjamas back on and rushed upstairs to grab an old Gryfindor sweater her aunt passed down to her, along with a pair of worn in white converse.

Once she made it back down to the common room, Fred was lacing up his shoes. He must have heard her come down because once she got to the bottom of the stairs he looked up at her from his crouched position, watching her intently as she sat on the bottom step and concentrated on getting her own shoes on.

This moment reminded him of the night of the Yule Ball and how beautiful she looked when she came down those very same steps.

She took his breath away.

Now sporting a ratty old sweater and wearing no makeup whatsoever, his breath still caught in his throat.

She had always been so beautiful.

After a moment of soaking her in for what may be the last time for a while, Fred walked over and grabbed her hand, leading her out of the common room.

“Where are we going?” Y/N whisper yelled as they stealthily ran through the dark ghostly halls of Hogwarts. The only light source they were gifted came from the full moon that could easily be seen through the plethora of archways adorning the castle’s outer walls. The only sounds being the echo of their shoes slapping against the cobblestone beneath them.

Every once in a while when they came to a turn, Fred would abruptly stop and peak around the corner to make sure Filch wasn’t creeping around in the shadows. A habit he picked up when he first became a student at Hogwarts.

“Almost there.” He stated while swiftly moving around a corner, making a non verbal announcement that the area was clear of any caretaker activity.

Y/N helplessly wanted to tug Fred backwards and have them retreat back into the common room for a second round of passionate love making. Possibly even use the Room of Requirements to spice things up. But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way you want them to. Instead she tried her best to keep up with Fred’s lanky legs as he maneuvered them through the halls of Hogwarts.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally made it to the large grand entrance of the school, surprisingly not having gotten caught in the process. Y/N could feel her legs almost give out as they stopped to look out to the vast land of grass, forest and bodies of water, partially due to the large stretch of running she had just done and partially due to the activities that took place in the common room not that long ago.

Her lungs felt cold and sore as she gasped for breath.

“What are we doing here?” She choked out, not paying much attention to her surroundings. She then stood up fully and noticed a few meters away, the other half of her lover. He turned around, travel bag in hand and Angila behind him in all her bright blue glory. The fact that the car still ran was an absolute miracle. Especially after what Harry and Ron had put her through in Ninety-Two.

Fred took her out of her thoughts as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. George had a beaming smile on his face. He initially thought that the plan had worked and Y/N chose to go with them to help bring their dream to fruition. Then he noticed his older twin shake his head sadly. George’s smile disappeared and his shoulders dropped once he realised what his brother was trying to tell him.

This was goodbye.

“I hear you boys are dropping out?” Y/N called out to George as they got closer and closer to him, an attempt to lighten the mood. He let out a sad laugh as he stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Yeah, was thinking about it.” He responded leaning against the passenger door. Y/N snickered softly as they finally came face to face. She dropped Fred’s hand and pulled George in for a hug, rubbing his back to console him, feeling bad that she had gotten in the way of their perfect plan.

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” He asked, words filled with hope.

“I can’t. I need to finish the year and graduate. But this isn’t goodbye Georgie Poorgie.” She said before pulling away from the embrace. He smiled at this and playfully rolled his eyes. He always hated that nickname.

“Will you write?” He didn’t want the last seven years to just go to waste. Neither did she.

“Of course I will.” She moved in closer and whispered,

“Keep an eye on him will you? You were always the more reasonable one of the two.” He chuckled lightly and nodded before leaning in for one more bone crushing hug.

“Bye Y/N.”

“Bye George.” And with that he retreated back into the dodgy Ford to make sure everything was in order for their journey to Diagon Alley.

“So.” Fred said breaking the awkward silence, kicking the stone beneath him, his hands shoved in his sweater pockets.

“So.” Y/N repeated in a light mocking tone. So much had happened in the last few hours that neither one of them really knew what to say.

“I’m never not going to love you, you know that right?” He finally said stepping closer so they were only a couple inches apart from each other.

“Yeah I know. Still wish you weren’t just going and deserting your education but it’s not my place to stomp on your dreams you know.” Y/N let out a sniffle, collecting a couple tears with her fingers.

“I’ll wait for you.” He blurted out. She looked up and gave him a sad smile, taking his hand into hers.

“No you won’t. You will work and work and one day some beautiful girl will walk in and sweep you off of your feet. She will be the perfect girlfriend and one day the perfect wife who will help you and George run the shop and raise your kids while you live out your dream. I know you love me and I love you, more than anything in the world, but Freddie, I cannot and will not hold you back from what I know you can achieve. Be great, focus on that. I’ll always be here for you. But I can’t be who you want me to be. I can’t be a shop owner's wife.” Tears began to trickle down both their faces by the time Y/N had finished her little speech.

“Is this you breaking up with me?” His voice was cracked and hoarse. He had thought about this being a possible outcome but chose to push it to the back of his mind, not wanting to face it.

“Yeah...I think it is.” She replied weakly, feeling absolutely guilty and awful. No, this was what was right. He needed to move on.

“You are the only woman I’ve ever loved! No one else!” He said, his voice raising.

Y/N flinched slightly, not used to seeing him this genuinely angry, not even on the quidditch pitch. How could she? The only other time he got this mad was when she was passed out cold.

“Freddie, please. Not here.” Her voice was quiet and shaky as tears streamed down her face. She then noticed George watching from inside the car with a face full of remorse. Under normal circumstances he would have intervened to protect her but he knew she was safe and this conversation needed to happen sooner or later.

Seeing her scared demeanor, Fred pulled back immediately. He hated to see her frightened and vulnerable.

Slowly, he walked towards her and gently brought her into his chest as she sobbed, placing a plethora of gentle kisses on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry Fred, I just can’t I-” She rambled as her small frame shook with tears.

“Shhh. It’s okay, no need to apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled”. His eyes closed with frustration as he let out a sigh. He was angry at himself for getting so cross with her.

“Fred?” She asked once her tears had finally subsided and she could gather her thoughts.

“Yes love?’ He kept his hands around her waist as he leaned back a touch to look down at her.

“One last kiss? Before you leave?” Both of their hearts broke for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“Y/N please don’t.” He felt as though he could cry now.

“Fred, I don’t want to argue. Just do it” She was tired, emotionally drained and not in the mood to negotiate. He let out a shaky exhale and gently took a hold of the back of her neck, leaning down to capture her lips with his.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen with desperation. It felt nice and warm, but also painful. Fred moaned into Y/N’s mouth and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. In response she placed a hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb gently back and forth against his soft freckled skin. His hand then came up to lay gently over hers. The size difference of their hands always made his heart swell.

“I love you.” He said against her lips.

“I know. I love you too.” She muttered. And with that, they separated and embraced for a couple more seconds. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but they had to.

“Bye.” She said with a weak wave once he had finally pried himself from her grasp, backing away further and further before getting into the driver seat.

He couldn't even look her in the eye as he started up the bunged up car, it would just be too painful. Merlin knew if he did, there was a good chance he would run back out to her and forget about everything he had worked so hard for.

The headlights shawn brightly, creating a stream of yellow light against the gravel in front of it. The sound of low rumbles, occasional putters and clanks drowned out Y/N’s re-emerging sobs as she watched the boys begin to drive down the path and up into the night sky. The old beat up Ford swiftly flew further and further away. Then it rippled into oblivion.

Gone.

Y/N held her sweater tightly to her shaking body as her teeth chattered, the only sound being the chilly April wind passing by. The wetness of her fresh tears brought an extra sense of coldness to her face. She stood in place far longer than necessary, secretly hoping that piece of junk car would reappear.

It never did.

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one-abuse-survivor · 3 years

Note

Do you have any tips on how you deal with your bad trauma days that you're comfortable sharing? I know they won't work for everyone, but I'm having a bit of a nasty trauma day and I'm not quite sure how to handle it tbh. thank you in advance :]

Sorry to hear you're having a bad day :( I don't mind sharing, and even if I can only share the things that help me personally, I really hope some of this can help you or someone else! And, of course, the following tips are all coming from someone who is not living in an unsafe or abusive situation anymore; so this might not be helpful for someone having a bad trauma day while still being in a traumatic situation.

I think, for me, one of the most important steps of getting through bad trauma days is to realise I'm having a bad trauma day. During those days, it's easy to get carried away by my messy thoughts and emotions and take them as fact. For example, I might feel really hopeless, or defensive, or out of control, and in the moment those feelings are so real it's hard to remember how it is to not feel that way. It's like my brain decides this is what life as a whole feels like and rolls with it.

When this happens, I try to ask myself is this: “was I feeling this way yesterday?” (or an hour ago, or a three days ago?). “Did I feel like there was no hope for me or like everything was too much and too painful yesterday?” Most often, this far into my recovery, the answer is no. I was having a fine day yesterday. Everything felt under control yesterday. And remembering this this helps me believe it'll feel that way again tomorrow and that what I'm feeling right now is temporary—it's a wave I've ridden many times before, and I just have to ride it again.

Once I've realised this, I take a few minutes to accept that the next few hours or couple or days are gonna be rough and messy, and I’m allowed to not be hard on myself for not achieving the same things I would on a normal day. You know those posts that say "your best looks different every day"? During bad trauma days, I make an effort to accept that my best is going to be very very low, and that's okay. It's okay if all I do is survive, rest, and work on soothing myself and riding the wave. With some luck, everything else will be able to wait a little bit—a couple of hours at the very least.

What I do to get through the worst of it varies. Sometimes, I lie in bed stay away from people and my phone for a bit, because I know I might say or do something impulsive or hurtful. I allow myself as much time as I need to go through all the heavy and ugly emotions and cry if I need to, and only move out of bed when I feel a bit more in charge of myself again.

Sometimes, I vent-write about the emotions I'm going through to express myself. I usually write stories where the characters are experiencing the same things as I am but for completely different reasons so I don't trigger myself further by remembering my own experiences.

Sometimes, I do things that comfort and distract me, like watch a feel-good movie I've watched 30 times or funny/cute videos online.

I always try to allow myself anything my body tells me I need in the moment (as long as it's not self-destructive, of course). If I'm craving something salty, I'll eat a bag of chips, for example. If I need to cancel plans, or to turn the lights off, or to lie down, or to put on clothes with soothing textures, or to hug a stuffed toy, I'll do those things. If I start falling asleep, I allow myself to fall asleep. I've found when I'm in distress it's pretty easy for me to know what my body needs, but it's also easy to try to deny myself those things because I feel like “they're silly or I don't deserve them”. So I make a conscious effort to fight that voice and try to treat myself like a would any sick person I was taking care of: with compassion.

In addition, I think it’s a good idea to keep around things or tools you might need in future bad days. For example, when I cry, I usually crave something tasty afterwards, so I try to keep a small stash of snacks around that I can turn to on bad days (since during those days I might not be able to go buy them). Other people might find it helpful to have apps like Calm Harm or Emergency Chat installed, or to carry a comfort item or a stim toy around, or to own an extra soft blanket or something you bought for the sole purpose of breaking it if you really need to break something at any point.

Of course, not all these things can always be done—sometimes you're not home or you have responsibilities to attend to, and can’t just take a nap or distract yourself. But I think just being aware of your needs during bad trauma days, and allowing yourself to meet those needs when possible even if it means putting almost everything else on hold for a little bit, can really go a long way.

I also think even though an important part of trauma recovery can be to step out of your comfort zone and face things that feel scary and unsafe, during bad trauma days it's okay to stay in your comfort zone and not face those things. So if, for example, busses make you feel unsafe or anxious, but you're making an effort to ride them when you need to (instead of avoiding them at all costs), I think it's okay if facing the bus is too much during a bad trauma day and you end up avoiding it. You don’t need to be hard on yourself for it. Again, your best doesn’t have to look like it usually does. Bad trauma days are survival days, not recovery days. You can work on continuing to recover when you're feeling better again.

Sending a virtual hug ❤ I hope you feel better soon, and if anyone else wants to share their advice, you’re more than welcome to!

#ask #trauma #trauma recovery #ptsd #cptsd #ptsd recovery #cptsd recovery #abuse mention #trauma tw #abuse recovery

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into-the-stratosphere · 3 years

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Champagne Morale

Arthur x Forger Fem Reader

Summary: Going undercover at a charity ball hosted by one of the richest men in the country was hard enough as it was, but Arthur was certain flying solo would draw more attention than he’d like. If only he knew someone who could act well under pressure and improvise at a moment’s notice... like a top-notch forger. He just hopes she’ll say yes last minute.

A/N: Found this absolutely gorgeous picture (I’m still trying to find credit for it 🥺) and thought the guy looked like Arthur and this came from it. Hope you enjoy!

Champagne Morale

Arthur x Forger Fem Reader

Warnings: None besides brief mentions of some drinking.

WC: 2309

Pre-Inception

This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned to spend her Saturday night.

(Y/N) was dressed to the nines in a gown worth more than all the rest of her wardrobe combined, surrounded by the city’s wealth feigning charity. The older couples stalked the ballroom floor in their finest, eyes catching on anything less than spectacular, staring her down, trying to determine which family she belonged to in order to deserve a place on the guest list. They were like vultures on the hunt, scanning for any sign of imperfection. The only comfort she found was her hand tucked into the crevice of Arthur’s arm, leading her from the prying eyes— her “date” for the evening.

He’d been frantic when he asked her to accompany him earlier in the week, barely letting her get her door open before he’d launched into his rehearsed speech; he’d only just found a way to squeeze his name onto the private guest list of their next target’s charity ball that he’d forgotten to account for the plus one attached to it.

“It would look more suspicious if I arrived alone, plus you’re an excellent forger, so we could better cover each other if we started drawing anyone’s attention.”

She leaned on the doorframe, a bemused smile spreading her lips as he continued to list why it would be mutually beneficial for her to accompany him. He could go on for hours and not list the same reason twice, she thought. Ever the vigilant point man. (Y/N) held up a hand, Arthur falling silent at the gesture, holding her gaze.

“If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask, Arthur,” she said, throwing a wink his way before closing the door. The last thing she caught was his mouth gaping as he stammered, the tips of his ears hinting pink.

She bit her lip to keep the self-satisfied smile off her face from the memory, reveling at how she of all people could get Arthur to crack. Glancing around, she accepted a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, sipping on it a moment before looking towards her companion. He looked dashing, really; his suit was trimmed to perfection, expertly accentuating his slim but fit figure. A black bowtie sat snugly at the base of his throat, albeit a bit off kilter. She stopped him a moment to straighten it, letting her fingers linger a beat on his lapels before smiling up at him. He grinned, a familiar half tilt of his lips before offering his arm to her again. The only thing he hadn’t changed was his hair: slicked back, his signature.

As they paced around the edge of the room, (Y/N)’s eyes darted from face to face. “Which one is he exactly?” She whispered from behind her champagne glass.

Arthur minutely jutted his chin towards a man standing near the temporary stage, surrounded by laughing millionaires. Whether what he had said had actually been funny was only consequence; anything the surrounding gnats could do to earn his favour, they wouldn’t question.

(Y/N)’s eyes fixed on the man over the rim of her glass, studying his mannerisms. He was at least mid fifties, wearing a mild suit that, while designer, didn’t quite suit his loud voice. He slapped the man next to him on the back with a laugh, the poor recipient buckling under his heavy hand. She tilted her head, watching the target hand his plate off to the staggering lackey. Though he grinned at his boss, she could see the pressure building on him as the night went on. There’s the right hand man.

She turned to Arthur, handing him her nearly drained champagne glass, “Darling, would you mind holding this for me a moment? I’ll be right back.” Before he could protest, she was halfway across the room, bee lining for their target.

He pressed his lips together, watching as she slipped into the inner circle of groupies with ease, throwing her head back with laughter at whatever their target had just said. His jaw clenched at the sight of the man turning his attention her way, bringing her hand to his lips in greeting. He gestured around the room, and Arthur swore he felt a blood vessel pop as the man put a hand to the small of (Y/N)’s back, showing her around the stations he’d had arranged for the ball.

He tried distracting himself, finishing what was left in (Y/N)’s champagne glass as he made a mental note to grab her another before she returned. A passing waiter took the empty flute from his hands, leaving Arthur to shove his hands in his pockets, gripping his loaded die with white knuckles as he turned away from the pair now meandering by the reflection pool, a posse of millionaires trailing slowly after them.

As long as she’s having fun. If he clasped his die any tighter it would surely shatter.

Arthur wasn’t left to his sulking for long; (Y/N)’s laughter drifted by his ear a few minutes later, and he turned his head to see his target walking her to where he leant against the wall. The man eyed Arthur up and down, standing straighter before pressing a final kiss to (Y/N)’s knuckles. She looked up at the host through her lashes, a coy smile gracing her features that made Arthur’s heart pang.

I’m not… no, I couldn’t be jealous.

(Y/N) was his friend, had been for years. Are we really only friends though? All his memories with her flashed through his mind in an instant, flushed cheeks and tentative touches. As he watched her bid their host a far too fond farewell, his pulse raced. Is that all we are?

She grinned until the target finally turned away from the pair, letting the disgust fall over her features when she knew his gaze was elsewhere. “I swear to God if he touched me one more time I was going to vomit.”

Arthur could barely restrain his laughter, the target shooting him a glare that he didn’t care to cower from. He wrapped one arm around (Y/N)’s midsection, rubbing soothing circles into the exposed skin as she brooded.

“Am I allowed to spend time with my date now?”

“Come on, you know I did that for the intel. Plus I can learn so many new characters from those snobby wannabes.”

“I’m sure you did.”

He grinned as she threw a weak punch into his chest, minding how she just as quickly drew back into his hold. The little green monster was sated for now. In fact, it certainly didn’t mind when she asked him for a dance, to get the feeling of his hands on me out of my mind, dragging him to the middle of the room where they blended in with the swarm of couples roused by the band.

He took her hand, his other falling to her waist, swaying quickly to the jazzy tune, watching laughter, genuine laughter bubble up her throat. Arthur dipped (Y/N) low, breathless by the way her hair fell from its intricate styling. He grinned at her, pulling her back into his chest, their breaths mingling as the tempo picked up again. For a song, they weren’t two con artists studying a target, two friends pretending to be dates— they were a complementary pair, dancing the night away oblivious to the pompous splendor surrounding them. Anyone who looked at them could tell the chemistry they shared— even the jealous host watching from the sidelines, his arms crossed over his chest.

When the song ended, their chests heaving from exertion, all the room applauded the quintet situated on the temporary stage, bowing to their audience before starting up their next melody. (Y/N) and Arthur drifted away from the dance floor, locking arms as they sought the cool air blowing over the reflection pool.

They strolled around as they talked, glancing over the small tables of finger foods scattered on their way, careful to keep a good deal of distance from the man of the hour who hadn’t stopped shooting Arthur venomous looks since their dance ended. (Y/N) was pointing out a tray full of exotic caviar worth as much food that could feed an entire household for months when Arthur noticed the security on the edge of the room, eyeing the pair with wary expressions.

He watched from his peripheral as one stepped up behind the host on the stage, preparing himself for his speech to thank all the wealthy donors in the room as the band was packing away their instruments. He stalled as the guard whispered in his ear, his gaze latching onto the pair once more with a newfound suspicion.

Arthur cleared his throat, turning (Y/N) away from the stage with a hand on her arm, looking out over the calm waters. “We may have to leave soon.”

Her eyes snapped up to his, masking her surprise with a pleasant expression. He could tell she was listening into the conversations around them, trying to key in to how long they had.

The security detail became more mobile across the room, moving towards the exits of the venue. Arthur swore under his breath, slowing their pace to be equally spaced from the nearest guards. “We’re going to need a diversion.”

“Already on it.”

Arthur didn’t need to question her plan, feeling her weight drop onto his side as she giggled airily— playing drunk, he realized. An older woman nearby scoffed under her breath, something about minding how much one should drink in public, and Arthur shot her an apologetic smile, draping one of (Y/N)’s arms around his shoulders to better support her. One of her heels caught around the hem of her dress, (Y/N) kicking it away in a mock drunken huff, pressing further against Arthur’s body. Were he not so hyper aware of the extra guards appearing from the exits, he would have taken just a second to appreciate the sensation of her warmth bleeding into him, filling his chest until he felt he could float without a dream.

He tilted his head down next to her ear, “Alright, we’re going to need a better distraction to get out of here— maybe a prior engagement we forgot about that we need to get to right away—“

Arthur didn’t need to finish the rest of his plan as (Y/N) deftly swiped a leg from under him, teetering over to the side—

Where the reflection pool lay waiting to catch them.

Gasps shot through the crowd to see the tipsy couple splash into the water, rushing to the pool’s edge to watch the chaos. While the host hastened to the microphone to call for attention and order, the feedback making all the guests cringe under the volume, under the surface Arthur shook his head incredulously at (Y/N), who only shot him a cheeky wink.

The two emerged, beautiful clothes ruined, gasping for air. A handful of guards reached for their hands, pulling them from the water as some waiters went off to fetch some towels. (Y/N) shivered, clinging to Arthur’s arm as she sobbed, apologizing for ruining such a lovely evening meant for charity.

Arthur had to keep from rolling his eyes at the theatrics. Expert forger indeed, there wasn’t a single face without a pitiful turn of the lip, (Y/N)’s performance tugging at her audience’s hearts. If he didn’t know her, he was sure she’d even get a reaction out of him.

She shivered in his arms, stumbling to her feet as her gown clung to her legs. She sniffled, her mascara dripping down her face— whether from the water still dripping from her hair or her expertly crafted tears no one could tell. As a waitress passed along some warm towels, Arthur thanked her and began to move towards the exit, catching the glimmer of mischief in (Y/N)’s eye as they finally passed through the crowd.

As the wealthy elites finally drew back towards the host on the stage, Arthur risked a whisper to his date, “Certainly not what I had in mind, but you definitely got the job done. You know, if you wanted our date to be over, you could have just asked, (Y/N).”

Arthur could only glimpse (Y/N)’s bemused face as she realized what he said before she pushed him towards the pool again, but not before he caught her wrist and dragged her back in with him.

The host sighed on stage to see the happy couple go under once more, smothering the jealousy at having lost quite a catch.

Before (Y/N) could begin to swim for the surface, Arthur pulled her face towards his, grinning as her lips met his eagerly, bubbles dancing around their bodies as they floated a moment, too caught up in one another to care for air or what waited for them when they’d resurface once more.

They finally broke apart, pulling one another to the surface to greedily drink in lungfuls of oxygen. The only crowd to greet them this time was the waitstaff informing them they would have to leave. The two ducked their heads in apology, rushing out the door before anyone else would think to stop them.

When they burst onto the street in front of the lavish venue, wrapped in one another in a desperate attempt to keep warm, (Y/N) turned to Arthur, teeth chattering, “You know, I think I’d prefer we stayed dry on our next date.”

No, she certainly didn’t expect to spend her Saturday night drenched to the bone with a man who’s kisses tasted like champagne and confessions, but she definitely didn’t regret it either.

#inception #inception 2010 #Arthur inception x reader #Arthur inception x fem reader #Arthur inception #Arthur inception x forger reader #forger reader #fanfiction #reader insert #into-the-stratosphere #into-the-artmosphere #my writing #my work

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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

Text

the great trial part five

summary: This was meant to be the easy part. The part filled with brightness and love. The war was over and you had the love of your life all to yourself. No more Baatar, no more secrecy and no more lies. But with the calm comes the realization as all the adrenaline finally leaves you. Now you know, this is the hard part.

a/n: Y’know I was reading part one yesterday and already our girls have come so far like they are still dysfunctional but it’s a lot healthier than before, especially if you read part one of tgd and than the latest part of tgt. We love to see growth. Thank you at @medeliadracon and @ladyxffandoms !

word count: 4k

The next few days are tense, at night you don’t put the barriers back up which Kuvira feared would happen, but you don’t make any move to hold her like you used to. You're stiff as a board until you fall asleep where your unconscious body seems to relax and you roll over to cuddle against her. You continue with the eye contact in the morning like always but you can’t get seem to get past fifteen seconds.

It’s unbearably quiet during the day, you’ve caved back into yourself to try and protect what little bit of your heart you have left. Kuvira doesn’t know but when you close your eyes that awful image reappears in your mind. That anger that still simmers within you wants to lash out again and push her away but you’ve worked so hard to get where you are that you rein it in and force yourself not to snap.

It’s on the third day during breakfast that Kuvira suggests something, hoping it may help.

“I think we should do the first exercise on Dr. Hanika’s list,” she says, her voice quiet and hesitant. You’ve been mostly silent, only talking when you need to and Kuvira’s respected that. She wants this to get better, not for the sex but because it broke her heart listening to you cry in the bathroom the other night. That face you made before you left the bedroom will forever be ingrained in her mind.

“I don’t know…” You rack your brain as you try to remember what number one was. When you finally settle on it you're filled with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut.

Talk about your fears, be open, and accepting of what your partner has to say.

“Please Y/n, I think it’ll be good for us.” These past couple of months she’s used that word more than she ever has. The old Kuvira, the one who didn’t feel your blood on her hands, that didn’t think what she was doing was wrong, that felt no remorse would not believe her eyes if she saw what she is now.

She admitted her mistakes in Republic City in front of the court, helped the Avatar take down what used to be her men, apologized to Baatar, and spends her days trying to atone for what she’s done to you. Out of all the things she regrets, hurting you is at the top of that list.

You bite your lip before shakily nodding. You don’t want to hurt her but the fears you have are brutal and it feels like they’re killing you at times. Knowing what it feels like to be on death's door gives you the chance to know first hand how bad it truly is. And honestly, these images of another great betrayal hurt just as badly.

“Uhm…” You wet your lips, you're so tense and you struggle to find the words. What do you fear? Lots of things, you fear Tigerdillos and Bolin five days without showering (it only happened once but the stench could have taken out an army).

You fear she’ll leave you once her two years are up. Or better yet, she’ll keep you around like she did before but turn him into her little secret. You fear that once the anklet comes off, Kuvira will revert to her old self, and with time and self-reflection you’ve realized that the old Kuvira isn’t good for you. You fear that if she does turn into her old self, you won’t be strong enough to leave.

“I can start?” Her tone is soft, she never used to talk so calmly. Even in her softer moments, there was still that edge, but now it’s replaced with this hesitant nature. You can feel the sincerity in her words now, there’s no second-guessing her like before. You nod again.

“I fear that you’ll never trust me again,” she slowly reaches across the table to thread her fingers through yours. You gulp, that’s the most touching you two have done since that night. “I understand why you don’t, but I fear that we’ll never reach a healthy place, one where we don’t need weekly sessions with Dr. Hanika.”

“I...” Kuvira sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I fear I’ll never be what you need and that soon enough you’ll leave me because of it.”

Your eyes widen at her words, on instinct you want to soothe her and tell her everything is going to be alright. You want to hold her like before and ease her fears like you used to do during her raging moments. You have to hold yourself back to keep from doing that. Lying to her won’t do either of you any good.

She waits for you to reply, the clock ticks by as you struggle to find the words. As the second's tick by Kuvira feels panic swell inside of her. She doesn’t like being vulnerable or open, she’s gotten better at it but still hates the exposed feeling it comes with.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry, you use your free hand to pick up your glass of water and take a sip. Her eyes follow your movements, and she has to look away when you place the glass back down, her mind wanting to focus on your lips. In the past, she could ease her fears with physical activities. She could pull you into a breathtaking kiss that did all the talking for her and feel ten times better afterward.

“I understand your feelings,” you think of your sessions with Dr. Hanika. Of the exercises, she gave you months ago about how to healthily speak to your partner. “And I can’t make any promises because I don’t know what the future holds but… I know that it might seem small, but we’ve made progress.”

You give her hand a gentle squeeze. “I couldn’t stand the idea of touching you again last summer, but we’ve worked through that, we’re talking again too. It’s slow but it’s progress and I think if we keep trying and accept her guidance we can reach a much better place than what we used to have.”

She lets out a shaky breath, “You think so?” You nod, and you see some of that tension in her wash away. You know it’s your turn now and you’d rather go hide under the covers than talk about your fears. But Kuvira talked about hers and you know that took a lot of effort and courage on her part.

“I guess I’m afraid that once you're given your freedom back you won’t want me and all the effort that comes with loving me, and you’ll go back to him because I know the two of you were friends growing up.”

Baatar was the only one out of Suyin’s kids to care for her. Huan was never mean, he just pretended she didn’t exist and, no matter how hard Kuvira tried to rein in her temper at times (which she never did a very good job at), Opal hated her guts. With the arrival of Wing and Wei Suyin’s time was spread thin, and suddenly she wasn’t able to give Kuvira the attention she needed anymore.

So maybe she lashed out at the twins a lot growing up, and she knows now that she was wrong. But Kuvira craved love and attention despite not showing it, she desired it more than anything. It’s why she latched onto you after meeting, why she pressured you into following her around the earth kingdom.

Baatar was her temporary fix until you came along, they weren’t very close, but they were friends. She knew he was infatuated with her and it always weirded her out quite a bit but that long-lived infatuation of his helped her in the long run.

But it also cursed her in a way, she got what she wanted out of him but at the price of your happiness and trust. If she hadn’t used him you guys would be fine, you could kiss her for more than a few minutes and finally say those three words she craved. You haven’t said them in so long.

“And I’m afraid of being hurt again, I was always on edge and ready to cry back then. I know now that’s not healthy and I fear that if you revert to your old self, I’ll let you walk all over me again…”

Spirits, your words sting, it’s like a stab at the heart, and Kuvira can’t help but flinch at them. To be honest, a part of her does fear that one day it’ll all be too much, and she’ll explode. That she’ll exhaust all of Dr. Hanika’s suggested coping mechanisms and bite back with enough malice to put the old her to shame.

She’s trying to undo her whole life, to be honest, she’s been this aggressive, arrogant woman with a temper the size of Ba Sing Se since she was a little girl. Her father thought Suyin could get her to change and for a while, it seemed like her tendencies were subdued a bit once she joined the guard.

But she could still snap, still blow up and put someone in their place just for breathing wrong on her bad days. On the train, with the stress of the Empire on her shoulders, Kuvira turned into the old her without even realizing it. She used to hold herself back, and she did a decent job at it but it’s not enough now. She needs to be better than ever, for you.

“I, like you, can’t make any promises, but I am really trying Y/n.”

“I know you are.”

“I want this, I want us to be happy and I want you to one day know that I am not leaving you. I won’t even so much as touch another person because you’re all I want.” She pulls your hand up and slowly places a kiss on your knuckles.

“I love you, and I know I hurt you but I want to make this right. When you were-” Kuvira’s eyes begin to water at the thought, “When you were bleeding out it put things into perspective for me. It showed me what’s really important and you are what’s important to me. Not power or immense control or adoration from my followers, just you.”

Tears well up in your gorgeous eyes, making them glisten like freshly polished glass. You gently pull your hand away from hers to wipe at them, you feel like you should say it back. But you're not ready to open your heart back up, it’s still healing from the damage dealt by none other than your lover.

“I can’t get it out of my head,” you whisper. Baatar’s cruel words he spat out in his jail cell still come back to haunt you at times and those images seem to have staked a claim in your mind for life. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you around him, even if I begin to trust you the second he’s near it’ll all fall apart.”

“Then I’ll steer clear of him, I can happily live in a Baatar free world.”

“I shouldn’t have to make you cut someone out of your life,” your tone is laced with annoyance as you place your head in your hands. “You should be able to reconnect with the family that raised you without causing me to panic about my place in your life.”

Kuvira realizes then that she never told you about talking to Baatar during her temporary leave. She didn’t mean to not tell you, it just never came up. Honestly, you didn’t ask any questions about it, you were just happy she was home safe.

“I should tell you,” Kuvira begins, her heart racing, “that when I was helping Korra I had to work with Baatar.”

Your eyes widen at her words, head still in your hands your whole body freezes as you try to process her words. You try to think back to anytime she might have mentioned that trip and then you remember finding out about her being in Zaofu a few days before her return. She never came back for those few days, never sent someone to check in on you.

“Nothing happened.” You still don’t respond to her words, verbally or physically. “I needed his help to create a device for Korra… Y/n?”

“Did you know she fucked me? Multiple times.”

“Did you know she moaned my name as I drove into her?”

She reaches forward to touch your arm, to try to bring you back down to earth. You yank away from her, your head shooting up to look at her with a look of pure outrage. Your walls are beginning to slam back into place and everything Dr. Hanika told you begins to burn away.

You push your chair back, making a beeline for the bedroom. You hear the skidding of a chair behind you before Kuvira grabs your forearm. Her grip isn’t bruising but you know no matter how hard you try you won’t be able to rip her handoff.

“Don’t shut me out.” Her voice drips with desperation as she gently tugs you to face her. “You can’t keep shutting me out like this.”

“Why not?! You did it to me for three years!”

“Yeah, and we’re in therapy because of it!”

“You know how I feel about him, you know it and you still saw him? You kept all this from me for what? Because the only reason I can think of is you fucking him again!”

“I didn’t sleep with him,” she looks so hurt, but you can’t help all of your insecurities that just keep intensifying. “We had to work on a project together to help Asami. I apologized to him and told him I love you, please Y/n.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Your brain convinces you she’s lying, she has to be. But she never lied in the past about sleeping with him, she was way too open about it. But now is different, now you’ll leave.

“It honestly slipped my mind. I was just happy that you were talking to me again. We never talked about that trip and suddenly you were touching me again and I-I could only think about making you happy.”

“I’ve loved her since I was thirteen years old.”

“He wouldn’t just let you go, I can’t believe that he just backed down and accepted that you weren’t his anymore.” He would kill for her, you're pretty sure he did. Baatar was many things, and stubborn was definitely one of them.

“I won’t lie and tell you he didn’t try something but I shot him down and made sure he knew we were strictly working together.” Her hands slide up to cradle your face, you debate pushing her away and locking yourself in the darkness of your room to brood. It seems so appealing.

“I learned my lesson Y/n, I know I fucked up big time and I just want to make it right. You have to believe me.” She pulls you closer until your foreheads are touching and sighs, “we can’t keep going in circles.”

You know you can’t, sooner or later you’ll have to either fully put in the effort to learn to trust her or finally leave. Both ideas terrify you, you don’t want to lose her but you also don’t want to open back up. Being with her all those years felt like having your heart chained up, anytime you tried to be, well you, the chains tightened, and that suffocating feeling became more intense.

Her thumbs gently brush over your cheekbones as she patiently waits for a reply. You don’t know what to do or what to believe, the gnarled, rotten part within you screams at you that she’s lying. But the part of you that’s hopeful, that still loves Kuvira and wants a future, begs you to believe her. It’s a waging war within and you don’t know which side you want to win.

“Do you still love me?” You’ve taken too long to reply. Kuvira’s worries are beginning to intensify. She knows she should wait and give you time, but she can’t keep doing this whilst in the dark about your feelings. She, if anything, loves you more than ever.

Kuvira had never seen this domestic side of you, the gentle care you pour into your plants and Lily makes her dream of a future child with you. You hum when reading which she doesn’t think you know, and she won’t tell you because she loves it. Without the fear of being caught, she can hold you until mid-morning when you finally wake up. She gets to watch you peacefully sleep for a while, hear you murmur an unintelligible word or two as you snuggle up close.

On the train Kuvira held herself back to an extent, she forced herself to focus on uniting the Earth Empire which meant putting you on the back burner more often than not. But now all that’s left is you and fuck does she love it.

“I…” You begin, the words are stuck in your throat, they feel sharp and painful. You know what to say, you know you need to tell her the truth. If you shy away now you won’t be the one walking out that door, it’ll be her. “Yes.”

You settle on that, yes is easier to swallow. Those three words seem monumental and you aren’t there yet. You do still love her, but to say it out loud makes you vulnerable, it means taking off the metal armor you’ve bent around your heart.

Kuvira tries not to show her disappointment at your response, she knows she should be happy with what she’s been given. But it’s almost been a year and part of her is becoming desperate. She took your love for granted back then. You used to tell her every night before you drifted off to sleep how much you loved her. She sucks it up and accepts what little you can offer.

“Then don’t shut me out again.”

“Okay.”

4. Have a calm conversation where you ask each other questions.

Three weeks later and now you can make it to 33 seconds. Despite feeling a bit better due to it, you know not to push the boundaries like last time and continue to keep sex off the table. You continue to compliment one another and Kuvira starts to regularly say ‘I love you,’ again. You always just smile as a reply and nod. It hurts but she’ll take it.

It still takes a while to work back up to before, she knows to hold herself back as you hesitantly brush your fingers against hers or hug her for only a few seconds. At the end of week two, it gets a bit easier for you. During your last couples session, you both talked more in-depth about your mistake. You owned up to being the instigator and the cause of it, just wanting to feel normal again.

Dr. Hanika has you begin journaling your thoughts and feelings to help keep you check but also to make sure nothing bottles up. It’s almost embarrassing when she gently reminds you of the work you’d both put in to not shut yourself out again, but she doesn’t scold you or anything, simply tells you it’s okay to mess up but to keep trying.

You both casually compliment one another throughout the day and at night you’ve gone back to snuggling up close whilst still awake. It’s in the evening as the both of you are laying down for the night the silence calming as she pulls you closer.

“Are you sleepy?” You ask, Kuvira shakes her head as she places a soft kiss at the top of yours. Your insides flutter at her actions and sigh, “I’m not either.”

Before, if neither of you were tired you’d claw away each other's clothes and devour each other until the point of exhaustion. But that was before and this is now, so a new solution, one that involves keeping your clothes on needs to be created.

“We could… Talk?”

“What about?” you look up, your noses almost touching as you raise a brow. Kuvira has to use every ounce of self-restraint she has to keep from kissing you. It’d be easy, you're close.

“Well we could ask each other stuff, there’s bound to be a lot of things we still don’t know about one another.” You smile at Kuvira’s words and nod. You guys talked back on the train and got to know each other but for the most part, your relationship was physical. There was a lot she probably didn’t know.

You twist your body around so your chin is resting on her chest so you can easily look at her, one of your legs tangles with hers. You decide to be brave and gently reach a hand up to run your fingers through her hair. Kuvira’s eyes squeeze shut at the action as she leans into your hand, this level of affection from you makes her want to cry. Just a few months ago you couldn’t even look into her eyes.

You twirl a strand around your finger before asking “what did you wanna be when you were little?”

“Like career-wise?” You hum in response and Kuvira sighs as she tries to think of it. She tried to push anything before sixteen out of her mind most of the time. “It’s embarrassing.”

“C’mon! I wanna know,” you grin at the slight flush to her face. She’s never embarrassed, always so sure of herself and her actions. “Please, for me?”

She hates that you know that’ll work. You’ve got her wrapped around your finger, and she’s not even sure if you're all too aware of how far she’d go for you.

“I wanted to be a pro bender…” You lean up a bit at her words, your face softening.

“You still could, you're the best earth bender I’ve ever seen.” Kuvira rolls her eyes at your words, to be a pro bender involves being likable. No one would want her on their team or cheer for her. “Kuvira, once our house arrest is over we can start over and do whatever we wanna do.”

“What do you want to do, once yours is up?” You know she’s deflecting but decide to drop it, for now.

“I wanna take dance lessons again if Suyin will let me.”

“I worked everything out with her. Besides, you broke her family out, so I don’t see why she’d have a grudge against you,” she hesitantly lifts one of her hands and softly trails her fingertips up your arm. You let out a soft sigh as she brings it up to cup your cheek. “You were a great dancer back then.”

You chuckle at her words, not believing any bit of it. “I was not, I kept messing up and falling over.” Especially during your private practices with Kuvira, focusing on anything that wasn’t her proved to be impossible.

You’d always zone out as you watched her braid swish back and forth with her movements. More than once did she have to guide you through the motions with her hands on your hips. You definitely couldn’t focus then.

“For a newbie, you did amazing, much better than I did my first few months.” You know she’s just being nice. Kuvira spent most of her younger teenage years training to one day be a guard and such a job requires coordination, so she must have been amazing at dancing from the beginning. You can’t imagine her being bad.

“You humor me too much,” you say, your tone light and happy. Right now all the bad moments are at the very back of your mind as you lay in this rare state with Kuvira.

“I’m not lying!”

“You are! I vividly remember stepping on your toes at least twice.”

“Well I said for a newbie you did amazing not that you perfected it the second you walked into the room.” You both quietly laugh at that, at some point you stopped twirling her hair but instead just gently held the piece between your two fingers. As your laughter settles down, Kuvira gently rubs her thumb across your cheekbone and asks “What did you wanna be? When you were little.”

“Oh, just like my mom,” you bite your lip to try and stop from grinning.

“Really?”

“Yea, I used to wear her helmet around the house all the time and got so excited when I found out I was an earth bender. But then I got older and realized all the job entailed.” Kuvira tries to picture a mini you racing down the halls of your home with an oversized metal helmet on, it most likely bounced on your shoulders as you ran. She determines she likes that image quite a lot. “I was never cut out for fighting, I definitely inherited my dad's pacifist nature.”

“Do your parents have any pictures of you growing up?” Kuvira knows they do, she remembers the one hung up in the hallway and how there were a dozen others just like it.

“Yeah, my dad never seemed to put down the camera. Especially after my mom made Lieutenant because she wasn’t home as often, so he tried to take extra photos for her.”

Kuvira’s hand that was once on your cheek travels down to your waist where it finds a home. You lean your cheek against her chest, never breaking eye contact. “Is there… any photos of you when you were younger?”

She won’t have anything before Zaofu. Her parents left her with a sack of clothes and a few toys before ditching her to have a stress-free life. But Suyin must have a few photos of her tucked away somewhere.

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised if Suyin destroyed them after I left.” You find that hard to believe. You might not be a massive fan of her after she tried to assassinate Kuvira but a part of you knows she’s kept at least one.

“Well… I guess we’ll just have to take a bunch of new ones. Y’know I think my dad has some photos of us from Winter Solstice.” Tiredness slowly creeps into your features, instead of bidding her goodnight you continue. “Are you really happy, Kuvira?”

Last year it seemed the only way for her to be truly happy was to conquer the Earth Kingdom. Nothing satisfied her for long but the power she possessed always left this triumphant glint in her eyes. Now she cooks meals for the both of you and quietly draws during the day. Sometimes the both of you dance after dinner and others you simply cuddle on the couch with Lily laying at your feet. It’s nothing like her old life.

The hand resting on your hip slides up to cup your other cheek, your face is gently cradled between her hands. She doesn’t know how to properly word how happy she is. Kuvira used to think to be happy she had to be at the top.

Control was a necessary element in her life and for the longest time, she thought she’d simply perish without it. But circumstances change, events mold people into something new, and she knows if the old her saw her now she’d laugh. Old, arrogant Kuvira would think this all a lie and carry on with her life, that chip embedded on her shoulder.

She wonders what would have happened if she had gone after Republic City. Would she have won? Would you have found it in yourself to stomach the sight of her? She knows the answer to the last question, remembering the face you made the day she told you of the final act in her plan.

But now she can simply breathe with you and lay with you. There’s no pressure to be anything but herself, no need to appear strong at every given moment. There are things she misses about the outside world, but your company helps her forget about them all.

“I think, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” is all she manages to say. But it’s enough for you judging by the loving grin you give in return.

#kuvira #tgt #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira fanfic #lok fanfic #lok #legend of korra

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angel-of-darkness-3000 · 4 years

Text

Breaking Point (Jasper Hale x chubby reader)

A/N: So a little setup for this story. Alice and Jasper were a thing in the past, cus ya know, eternal waiting can get kinda lonely, but they have separated and divorced since she found Jasper's true mate in a vision. I'm going to have Bella and Edward be pre-established. Also, the reader is Jasper's true mate, she just doesn't know it yet. She does know that the Cullens are vampires.

Y/n stepped out from her room, ready to go with her sister Bella to the Cullen's home. She met her sister in the hall with an excited smile, but was only met with a scowl.

"What are you smiling about?" She snapped.

"We are going over to the Cullen's for dinner and the weekend. I am excited to spend time with our friends."

"You're not going." Bella said coldly.

"What do you mean?" Y/n's face fell.

"I want to spend time with my boyfriend and his family without the embarrassment of having you around. I mean, just look at you. I don't understand how someone so fat can be my sister. Plus, you don't need any more of Esme's cooking, or any cooking for that matter. Maybe starving yourself would help you get rid of some of that ugly fat." Bella patted Y/n's stomach as she passed by her tearful sister.

Y/n retreated to her room, finally breaking down as her sister drove off.

---

"Hello Bella, where's Y/n? I thought she was coming for the weekend as well?" Esme asked as Bella walked in the door.

"She's staying home for the weekend." Bella said as she walked up to Edward's room.

"She's lying." Jasper said after pausing the game he was playing with Emmett.

"Maybe you should go check on Y/n then, Jasper." Esme told her son, worry clear in her voice.

"Esme's right. You should go see Y/n." Alice chimed as she came down the stairs, a knowing gleam in her eye.

"Alright." Jasper stood, sparing a quick glance to Emmett. "We'll have to finish the game later."

Emmett nodded without a complaint, and Jasper took off in a run.

---

As Jasper came up to the house, he could feel the self loathing and sorrow rolling out of the home. He understood that Y/n might not want to open the door in her current state, so he jumped up to her open window, which was open to let the breeze in.

The salty smell of her tears met his nose when he ducked into her room. He found her in her reading nook, curled up on her bean bag.

He crouched down in front of her, reaching out to rub her ankle. "Y/n."

She jumped up at his voice and touch.

"Jasper?" She looked up, confused, but looked down again, trying to hide her tears. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your family?"

Jasper felt all his years as a vampire weigh down on him as he felt out Y/n's emotions. "I am right where I need to be, Darlin'. You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Not really." Y/n wiped at her face as she calmed her sobs.

"Well, I'll stay here with you." Jasper sat on the ground cross-legged.

"You should be with your family." She said dejectedly.

"Like I said, I am right where I need to be right now." Jasper looked over her book shelves, picking out a book that interested him. "May I read to you?"

"Okay." She said with a bit of uncertainty in her voice.

Jasper smiled and moved to sit next to Y/n on the bean bag chair, reclining as Y/n moved over for him. He let waves of calm flow from him as he began to read aloud.

Y/n began to relax to Jasper's voice and his calm. It gently caressed her and she gladly welcomed the feeling. She unconsciously leaned into Jasper, finding comfort in his cool temperature. Jasper moved to wrap his free arm around her, curling his hand to play with her hair.

---

After a few chapters, Jasper placed the book down with a bookmark. "Are you ready to talk about what upset you earlier?"

"Do I have a choice?" Y/n mumbled.

"As much as I want to say you do, I would really like to know what upset you."

Y/n mumbled out her answer, but Jasper heard it clearly, a small growl rumbling through his chest to signify his displeasure.

Jasper was quick to sooth Y/n when he felt her spike of anxiety. "I am not angry at you, Darlin. I'm mad at your sister. I speak for myself and my family when I say that we will never be embarrassed to have you by our sides. If anything, it is an embarrassment to have Bella by our sides. I would be proud to have you by my side."

Y/n looked at Jasper, confused at his last statement and hoping that she didn't misinterpret his meaning. "I thought Alice..."

Jasper brought his free hand up to cup Y/n's face. "Alice was never my mate, only a temporary companion. You are my true mate. I am not mistaken. You are gorgeous and I am proud to have you by my side, Darlin. That is, if you'll have me?"

"Yes." Y/n whispered.

Jasper grinned as he leaned in to give Y/n a kiss.

---

Bella suddenly collapsed in the living-room, a yell of anguish escaping her mouth as tears made mascara tracks down her cheeks. Edward shot up from his seat to console her, and the others watched worriedly, all save for Alice who hid a grin.

"Jasper!" Edward yelled at the blonde who had entered the room, giving off the harsh emotions. "Stop this! Please!"

"She deserves this Edward, just ask Y/n." The dark eyed Jasper gestured to Y/n who was in the doorway.

"Y/n?" Edward asked, lifting his head to her.

Y/n, who lacked the mental shield of her sister, showed Edward the memory of Bella's words to her. Edward's eyes widened in understanding and he moved away from Bella.

"Bella was unfairly cruel to Y/n. She made her think that Y/n wasn't welcome here because of Y/n's extra weight."

Carlisle frowned, recognizing why Jasper had switched over to the Major. "Major, I think that's enough."

The Major, after an amount of thought, backed off, going over instead to hold his mate in his arms. As soon as the Major stopped his influence, Bella's emotions shifted to anger.

"Why are you taking her side?! She's fat and ugly! Just look at her!" Bella yelled as she stood up.

The Major started growling as Edward spoke. "Enough. I think you should go."

"What?"

"You heard him. It is you who is unwelcome here." Esme said coldly.

Bella took on a shocked face, but soon shifted back to anger as she stormed out of the house in a huff though the open doorway, Jasper and Y/n having vacated the room when the family stood against Bella.

"Is Y/n going to be okay?" Rose asked with real worry for the human she had grown fond of.

"Yes. Jasper's got her." Alice smiled.

@alicedopey

#jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper x chubby reader #jasper hale x chubby reader #jasper whitlock x chubby reader #jasper whitlock x plus size reader #jasper hale x plus size reader

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moonstruckholland · 4 years

Text

I Need You (p.p)

Word Count: 2,171

Warnings: angst? Little bits of fluff?

A/N: This was loosely inspired by an episode of Gilmore Girls 😂 I hope y'all enjoy and if ya do, I'd definitely love some feedback 💕 also shout-out to @hoe-forharry and @theadventurousqueen for reading this and helping me out 💖

Dealing with a breaking up was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.

Barely a full twenty-four hours had passed, mostly spent in your pajamas, practically permanent tear stains on your cheeks from all the crying, and all you wanted was to be with the one person who could always make you feel safe; your best friend.

But what is one supposed to do when their best friend just happens to be the one that broke their heart in the first place?

You can't even remember how the argument started. One moment you were having a lovely dinner with the love of your life, prepared to have the movie marathon of a lifetime, and the next the two of you were spitting out things you were sure both of you would regret the next day. The night ended with your body going completely numb as you heard the words, "I think we need to break up," come out of Peter's mouth.

He was gone before you could manage to come up with a coherent thought, before you could beg him to stop and talk things out with you. You stared at your apartment door for a good 20 minutes in shock, hoping he would come back. He never did. You crawled into bed shortly after, a heaviness in your chest as you started to cry.

You weren't sure how long you laid there, tears flooding your face, never stopping, the numbness eventually going, leaving pure misery around to linger and force you to replay his last words to you in your head over and over. You fell asleep shortly after, only to continue the process again in the morning when you woke up to an empty bed and realized this was going to be your new normal from now on.

You tried everything to distract yourself. Well, everything that was within the vicinity of your bed, which included watching tv, reading your psychology textbook, and scrolling on your phone until you were forced to leave it alone to charge.

Nothing really worked, your mind coming back to Peter each time. You had to see him, talk to him, anything. You just needed him.

Before you knew it, you were unlocking your phone with a shaky hand, your fingers immediately tapping over the phone icon, Peter's number the first one to show on your call log. You hesitated over his name. Were you really about to call him?

Your body seemed to decide for you, pressing down on his contact before you could even really process or talk yourself out of it.

It rang a few times before disappointingly going to voicemail. You would've hung up if it wasn't for Peter's cheery voice ringing through your ears as his voicemail message started playing.

"Hey, it's Peter! Please lea-" you suddenly heard your own voice, saying something unintelligible in the background, making Peter laugh.

"Two seconds, babe, I'm trying to set up my-oh shit, it's still going. Um," you must've moved closer to him, your voice becoming clear as day you said "leave a message after the beep" with him, the two of you a mess of giggles.

You sounded so happy. What had changed from then to lead to heartbreak you were feeling now?

Your eyes were watering as you heard the sound of the beep.

"H-hey, Peter. It's me," you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, "Um, I know it's against protocol to call your ex after a break up, especially when it's only been a day, but I usually have my best friend here to talk me out of doing that."

You could feel the small resolve you had starting to break down, "I'm not really doing too great right now and I really need my best friend. Could you please come over? I need you, Pete."

You were full on crying now, sniffling in between your words. You were sure you were barely making sense at this point, "I-Um, please? Come here?"

Something inside of you snapped and you came to your senses, a gasp escaping your lips as you immediately hung up the phone. You felt so humiliated, how could you do that?

You threw yourself back on your bed with a groan, hoping more than anything that Peter would somehow not get that voicemail and you could save yourself from dying of embarrassment.

You spent the next hour contemplating your options on keeping Peter from hearing that message, your best ones being somehow getting into his apartment and deleting it or learning how to hack into his phone. Though you figured by this point he either hadn't heard it or had and didn't care. You almost hoped it was the latter, feeling guilty for calling him in the first place.

Suddenly there was a familiar tap on your window and you looked up to find your favorite masked hero sitting on the fire escape, giving you an awkward wave when your eyes met his. You rushed over to let him in, for a moment feeling like everything was normal.

"You're here," you mumbled, feeling breathless as you backed away to give him some space.

You watched as Peter crawled in, very ungracefully, immediately pulling off his mask, "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, I was out patrolling and Mr. Stark said if I broke another phone, he would make me use an old flip phone."

You would've laughed if you weren't in complete awe of the boy standing in front of you, the one who no matter what, would always have your heart. "I just can't-you're here."

"Of course I'm here," he hesitantly reached out, as if contemplating what he was about to do, before setting his hand on your cheek, "Are you okay?"

Out of habit, you leaned into hand, savoring the feeling of his skin against yours. You sighed both out of content and sadness, "I could be better."

"Yeah, me too."

He stepped away from you, leaving an aching feeling in your tummy at the lack of contact. He took in your appearance, making you look away self-consciously. You knew you looked like a mess, with your puffy, red eyes, and makeup smudged around your face. Your room didn't look much better, wrappers and tissues thrown across your bed, some on your floor. You didn't have to look at him to know Peter most likely had a look of concern and probably pity on his face.

"Have you eaten any real food today?"

You gave him your signature guilty smile, "Do mini kitkats and oreos count as real food?"

He sighed, "I'm ordering dominos."

"Peter, wait," you gently touched his arm, wanting to feel him under your fingertips one last time before saying what you were sure you would regret later, "You should go. It was selfish of me to call you like that and I feel horrible. I'm sorry."

Peter looked down, "Don't, feel horrible, I mean. I would be lying if I said I didn't need this, need you, too."

"Oh."

You felt a pang of guilt in your heart at his words, realizing you'd been so selfish you hadn't thought that Peter would be hurting too.

"So, uh, pizza," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Pepperoni and bacon?"

"Yep! Can we get those wannabe garlic knot ball things too?"

"Is that even a question? Of course we can."

You smiled, your first smile of the day. You knew nothing was normal and this was a temporary happiness, but a whole pizza and many episodes of friends later, that thought was far away in the back of your mind.

You found yourself laying beside Peter, you head on his chest and his fingers playing with your hair. You talked about everything, reminiscing about high school and your childhood together, all the embarrassing stories that haunted the both of you at night, the classes you were going to take when your next semester started in the fall, anything to avoid the topic of your break up.

"You wanna know how I found out you were Spider-Man?"

Peter paused his soothing movements on your scalp, "What are you talking about? I told you I was Spider-Man."

"Do you remember the first time I went and visited you at the Stark tower junior year? Well, Tony must've thought you told me, because he dragged me over to his lab to show me the new suit he was making for your birthday."

"Wait, so Mr. Stark spilled the beans and you never told me?"

"He made me promise not to!"

Peter pulled away from you, dramatically laying back against your pillow, a hand clutching his chest, causing a burst of laughter to escape from your lips. "I'm offended! How could side with Mr. Stark over your boy-" he cut himself off with a cough, a blush on his cheeks as he realized what he was about to say, "um, best friend."

The air seemed to shift, that heaviness from the night before making a reappearance. You wanted to change the subject, make him laugh and see his heart stopping smile once more, but now that it was on your mind, you knew you couldn't put off talking about it anymore.

So much for avoiding the breakup.

"Peter," you sat up, crossing your legs underneath you, "I think we have to-"

"I know."

Your teeth tugged on your lips nervously as you heard Peter take a deep breath. You kept your eyes glued to your bedsheets, hoping if you didn't look at him you'd refrain from crying.

"I'm not happy anymore."

"With me?" You held your breath, waiting for the confirmation you knew would shatter your heart into tinier pieces than it already was.

"No! I-I love you, y/n. I always have."

Your eyes shot up at him, full of hurt and confusion. "I don't understand?"

"You're one of the few things I've always been sure about, a constant in my life I can always count on, but right now, you're all I'm sure about and I need some time to figure everything out."

"Maybe, I could help?"

He shook his head, "This is something I have to do on my own."

You didn't know what to say, a hundred thoughts going through your head. The insecure part of you questioned his explanation, what if was just trying to spare your feelings?

No, you knew Peter wouldn't lie to you, not unless he was trying to protect you.

You wanted to ask him more about what was going on with him, he'd always come to you when he was in trouble before, but you didn't want to push him.

"Maybe I should go," Peter said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

"No, please don't," you pleaded, "I want you here."

You shifted, laying back down beside him. You laced your fingers through his, a small wave of relief washing over you when he didn't pull his hand away. "Can we pretend everything's normal for tonight?"

"I'd like that."

In hindsight it was probably a bad idea, but neither of you didn't care. How could you when you got to spend the night in Peter's arms?

You stayed up almost all night, kissing, talking, being wrapped up with each like you would any other day. The two of you fell asleep around 4 am, Peter's head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his arm around your waist. You knew in the morning the hurt would be back and you'd have to deal with it on your own, but at least you were content, that feeling following you in your dreams.

Peter was the first one to wake up, the small bit of sunshine peeking through your blinds hitting his face. You looked so peaceful beside him, mouth slightly ajar, letting out the softest breaths, the sunlight behind you making you glow. He wished more than anything he could stay.

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, softly whispering, “I love you,” against your skin, before carefully crawling out of bed. He quickly changed out of the clothes you'd given him last night, his clothes, your favorite shirt and pair of sweats you'd stolen from him a long time ago, and back into his suit.

Pulling his mask over his head, he slipped out the window, giving your sleeping figure one last look before closing it behind him. He hesitated on the fire escape, thinking about the lies he told you last night. He considered telling you the truth, telling you about the impending doom on it's way to shred the whole world apart and how he was apart of the solution to stop it.

'It's safer for her not to know,' he thought, convincing himself he was making the right decision, even if it meant losing precious time with you.

As he started swinging away, he sent out a silent prayer, hoping he'd come back from it all to make it up to you.

Tagging: @fangirlwithasweettooth @bravest-at-heart @constellatinq @devildisguiseasangel @hollandstea @ravenclawmarvel @rachramblesstuff @fairytaleparker @angelhaz11 @parkerpuff @petersmparker @nedthegay @spaceship707 @parkeroffline @lovinnholland @tomhollandsumbrella @awkwardfangirl2014 @officiallyunofficialperson @babebenhardy @sleepybesson @its-the-unknownspidey @antoouu @petersstarcadet @kxrtwxgner @styles-balor4eva @80sthottie @meghan-8520xx @marshyrebelcloud @jillanaholland

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talesofstyles · 5 years

Text

In Sickness And In Health

After the birth of their twin babies, Harry and YN’s marriage suffers.

Warning: Contains discussion of Postnatal Depression (PND) / PPD, breastfeeding and smut. Please read only if you’re comfortable.

P.S. This is a spin-off of Mess Is Mine. You don’t have to read it first, but in case you want to give it a go, here’s the link for the I, II and III part!

Having a newborn is hard, let alone two.

When that phase where everything seems magical and everything is just right in the world and you can hardly take your eyes off your precious little babies is over, you’ll begin to realise how much your life has changed overnight. You’ll realise how exhausted you are and that sleep is merely just a myth. You don’t sleep for longer than two hours at a time, and you struggle to find the time to fulfil your most basic human needs like eating and showering, and your social life has gone out of the window without even a wave goodbye.

Of course the excitement will never be truly over. There will always be moments where you look at your babies and pause and think “how did I get so lucky?!”. Maybe when they’re both smiling at you unconsciously in their sleep. Or when you just bathe them so they’re fresh and clean and smells like heaven and you feel like your heart is about to burst looking at two little babies just in their nappies all sprawled on your bed. It may not sound like a big deal, but sleep is one of the most fundamental human needs and if they’re deprived of that, it can potentially lead to a bigger problem.

YN is tired. So is Harry, but she is not only exhausted physically but also mentally, which is so much harder to deal with. Having twins really takes a toll on her body, and her hormones are all over the place. Now so much worse than when she was pregnant. She had a rather flawless pregnancy with the twins, everything was perfect. She carried them up until 37 weeks and five days, which was considered full term with twins, and even though the labour was long, it was all good in the end.

It all started well. The babies were both healthy and strong so they went home along with YN on the third day. Settling in with two newborns during the first few days were chaotic but it was all such a dream. The babies were such good sleepers and both YN and Harry had to wake them up throughout the night so YN could feed them. Neither of them was a fussy eater and both latched on so well right from the beginning, too, which was the thing that YN most worried about when she was still pregnant so she was relieved to know that their breastfeeding journey seemed to be easy right from the start.

But then the babies turned two weeks old, and they hit a growth spurt, which caused them to be fussier than ever. Harry and YN could barely function with the lack of sleep and both of them were frustrated because they couldn’t split their attention with the big kids as well. Everything was crazy and it went south from there.

The baby boy went back to his usual self after a couple of days, but the baby girl never did. Even now, four weeks later, she is still fussier than ever, and the worst thing is that she is refusing to eat most of the time which is really stressing YN out because she doesn’t know what to do. She never had any problems nursing Finn and Pippa back then.

It’s 2:45 am, and here’s YN, sitting on a nursery glider that calls one of the corners in their master bedroom as it’s temporary home before they move it to the nursery later along with the babies. Baby girl has been crying for at least ten minutes now, and her crying is getting stronger each minute. YN tries to nurse her while desperately trying to keep her eyes open, but the baby just clenches her fists and keeps crying, pulling her face away from her chest and refusing to latch.

“Oh, come on,” YN sighs in frustration at the wailing baby in her arms. “Come on, please. I know you’re hungry, my love.”

All the crying eventually wakes Harry up, but thankfully not the other baby just yet. At just four weeks old, the twins are still sleeping with Harry and YN in their room because not only it’s safer for the babies for the first six months, they also know that it’ll be easier for them to deal with the babies throughout the night.

“Should I make her a bottle?” Harry offers, sitting up to rub the sleep away from his eyes for a second before he walks towards where YN is sat with their baby girl. “I can feed her. You go to sleep, love.”

“No!” YN whisper-shouts. “I can feed her. I have to.”

“Alright, alright. Just let me try a little bit,” says Harry, shushing her as YN shifts the baby girl into his arms. He begins swaying his hips in place right away to rock her, knowing how much she loves it. She’s just like Anya when she was a baby, loving the little sway and rock in the middle of the night to soothe her back to sleep. However, the little sway and rock doesn’t do the trick for her twin brother who prefers being bounced a little whenever he’s being fussy. “Hi sweet girl,” Harry coos at her. “What’s this all about, huh? What’s the matter? Best tell daddy, yeah? I’ll sort it out.”

The tiny little baby girl in his arms lets out a couple of tiny choked up noises before she calms down and stops crying, showing him her green eyes for a second before closing it again as she lets out the tiniest yawn. She goes back to sleep within minutes in her daddy’s arms, and as much as Harry is glad that he manages to put the baby back to sleep, he is worried about YN.

YN has been struggling to bond with their baby girl ever since she has started to get fussy about nursing, so he knows the fact that he has just calmed her down and put her back to sleep just like that makes her feel even worse. She sighs dejectedly, completely ignoring Harry’s weak “darlin’,” as she stands up and walks away to the bed.

“Darlin’,” Harry tries again as he gets himself into the bed and under the duvet. But she ignores him still, choosing to turn around so her back is on his face instead.

Harry lets out a heavy sigh. Mumbling a short, sweet, “night, love,” as he turns off the nightlight on his bedside table. Expecting at least just a short “night” from her but all he hears is silence.

***

The sound of keys jingling in the door is no match to the chaos inside. Baby girl has been crying nearly all morning, leaving YN frustrated and exhausted beyond measure. Harry has just got home from doing the school run, and as he walks into their living room, he sees his wife with their baby girl in her arms. He can see how tired YN looks, truth be told he isn’t much better, but he knows that he needs to step in because both of them are frustrated.

“Come on, my love, please,” YN coos at the crying baby in her arms desperately, pushing her closer to her chest to try to get her to latch but she isn’t having any of it. She did nurse a little a few hours prior but YN knows it’s not enough and she needs more. “I know you’re hungry, darlin’, please, just a little bit.”

“Let me make a bottle for her, yeah?” says Harry softly, knowing well that YN isn’t going to take what he suggests happily but he knows they all need it. “I can feed her, you go take a shower or a little nap. Whichever sounds best to you, love.”

“No, Harry, I need to feed her,” YN insists, shaking her head. Her cheeks are getting wet from the tears of frustration mixed with exhaustion. “I have to. I have to be able to.”

Harry runs his fingers through his hair, a little harsher than he’d like, in frustration. Sighing heavily. “She’s hungry!” snaps Harry. “We need to feed our daughter!”

“I’m trying!” YN practically shrieks.

“But she doesn’t want to nurse!” Harry’s voice keeps increasing in volume, stopping to take a deep breath when he sees the look on YN’s face. Not once he has ever talked to her that way before. “Please, just let me try to make her a bottle. This isn’t the time for you to listen to your ego, she’s hungry!”

YN looks up at Harry in silence. He can’t tell what she’s feeling, but surely it mustn’t be good. She stands up slowly, kissing her baby girl’s forehead before shifting her into Harry’s arms and walks upstairs without saying another word.

Harry warms up a bottle for her from the milk in the freezer and she hesitates a little before she drinks it all up. She’s already asleep in his arms even before he has the chance to burp her, clearly exhausted from all the crying. He takes her upstairs to their room to put her in the bassinet next to her twin brother who has been napping for a little while now and should wake up anytime soon. Doesn’t matter how hard YN and Harry try to make them sleep at the same time, they just won’t.

When Harry walks into their room, YN is sitting on her side of the bed. She’s looking through the window, her back is facing the door. He can see her back tenses a little at his presence. Any other day, any other circumstances, Harry would have just sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pull her close to him to cheer her up. They’re both a massive cuddler so although not always, more often than not, a little hug fixes everything. This is also why they can’t really complain about the fact that the twins are probably the clingiest babies on earth. Apples truly don’t fall far from the trees.

“M’sorry for raising my voice,” Harry says at last after he puts his baby girl in her bassinet, before sitting next to YN on the bed but still keeping a safe distance knowing that she is probably a little upset with him. “But I’m not sorry for feeding our daughter.”

Much to Harry’s surprise, YN doesn’t even respond. He gets it if she doesn’t want to talk to him, but she has stilled. Not much different than a statue. He thinks she’s at least going to pull her arm away from him or swats his when he tries to touch her but no, she’s not even blinking. Still looking far out through the window. Her body is right next to him, but she is going further away from Harry with each passing seconds.

***

Next thing Harry knows, she has become distant.

To him, first and foremost. And what breaks his heart the most, to his baby girl too. He didn’t want to believe himself at first but as the days went by, it was getting harder to ignore. He knows that she tries her best to act normal around the other kids, but he also knows that there’s something missing in her and whatever it is, he just hopes they can find it again.

YN is nursing Flynn in their room while Harry feeds Mila downstairs in the living room. After what happened the other day when Harry snapped at her, YN hasn’t tried to nurse her baby girl again, leaving Harry to do the job. As he feeds their littlest, he also gives some snacks for Finn, Pippa and Anya who just got home from school.

“How was school?” Harry asks the three of his big kids as he plops down on the couch with his baby girl on his lap and a warm bottle of milk in his hand. “Did you lot ‘ave a good day?”

“Mhm,” Anya hums and Finn and Pippa just nod, too busy chewing on some microwavable pastries that Harry heated for them.

“Good,” says Harry as he pulls the bottle away from his baby girl’s mouth for a second, giving her a little break. “Got any homework?”

“Anya and I have to write down everyone’s wishes,” says Pippa before she reaches for a cup of apple juice on the coffee table in front of her and takes a sip.

“Wishes?” Harry turns to her, his eyebrows snap together. “What kind of wishes?”

“It can be anythin’!” Anya chimes in.

“So,” Pippa begins, taking a paper and a pencil from her backpack. “What’s your wish papa?”

‘To know what the fuck is wrong with my wife and for her to talk to me again’ Harry says to himself inside his head, but carefully spelt out ‘clean ocean’ for the girls instead.

“Finny,” Anya turns to her big brother. “What’s yours?”

“For mummy to be happy,” he says nonchalantly.

Harry’s heart breaks at Finn’s wish. Trying to sound just as nonchalant, he turns at the seven year old and asks him. “You don’t think mummy’s happy?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “She cries a lot lately.”

“Ooh,” says Anya, tapping the end of her pencil against her head. “That’s a good wish.”

Finn is right, YN does cry a lot lately. Even more than when she was still pregnant with the twins. Harry has asked her ‘what’s wrong?’ countless times but he’s met with silence every time. So he stopped asking.

“Papa, why does mummy cry a lot lately?” Pippa asks him.

Harry knows that the kids think he has the answer, he always has. He wishes he has the answer for this one. He remembers when he was little, he could just ask anything to his mum or dad and they would always have the answers to everything and he intends to do the same for his children. They’ve got plenty of time later to find out how scary the world actually is and that sometimes, they have to be okay in the unknown. But not right now.

“Mummy’s just tired, my love,” Harry smiles at her. “Sometimes people cry when they’re tired. Just like you when you had too much fun at the park.”

“Mummy!” Pippa cheers in excitement when she sees YN coming down the stairs with Flynn in her arms. Harry’s head snaps right away towards her. “Mummy, what’s your wish?”

“Hi,” YN smiles weakly at her big kids. “My wish?”

“Mhm,” Anya hums. “What’s your wish, mummy?”

“It’s for their homework,” Harry adds, setting the empty bottle down on the coffee table before holding the drowsy baby girl upwards to burp her. “They have to write down everyone’s wishes.”

“Oh,” says YN as she plops down on the couch opposite Harry. That’s the most she has been talking to him. One word—he’s not even sure if ‘oh’ counts as a word but screw it—one syllable. A short, simple ‘oh’ yet it already makes his heart bursts. “I wish, um,” they’re all waiting patiently for YN to finish her sentence. “I wish I could sleep. For a long time.”

“How long, mummy?” Pippa asks her.

“Just long,” YN says absently. “Very long.”

***

“You want some?” Harry says, pouring YN a glass of wine before she can even answer. Not that she’s likely to answer.

Harry slides the glass across the kitchen island, where YN stands on the other end of the counter, staring into space blankly. Without saying a word she glances at him before taking the glass into her hand and begins to take a sip.

“Hey,” Harry says cautiously. “You alright?”

She takes a slug of wine instead of answering her husband. Still looking at one of the walls in their kitchen that is full of frames. A big family photo with all five of them, taken in Positano when they went there for holiday last summer just before YN finds out that she was pregnant with the twins. A few paintings of the kids. One medium-sized classic painting of a village.

Harry lets out a sigh as they lapse into silence again. The tension is so thick it’s suffocating. He gets some plates out of the cupboard, ladle chicken stew out of the slow cooker and sprinkle it with coriander before putting them down on the table and reaches for cutlery in the drawer.

“Come on, let’s eat,” says Harry as he brings his glass of wine to the table.

YN shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.”

Harry lets out another sigh, heavier this time. The food in front of him looks much less appealing than before. “You need to eat, even just a little bit.”

“I’ll eat later when I’m hungry,” YN gulps her wine.

“Why don’t you want to eat together with me?” Harry asks her desperately. “You’re the one who always insists that couples who eats together stay together, so-”

“I’m not hungry,” YN repeats herself absently, cutting him off before she drains the rest of her wine into the sink and putting the glass into the dishwasher. “Just wanna sleep.”

***

The sound of a crying baby wakes Harry and YN up, and after realising it comes from their baby girl, Harry stands up hastily and walks towards the bassinet to pick her up and begins to rock her.

“Hi darlin’,” Harry coos at her. “What’s this about, huh? Something bothering you? You hungry?”

The usual sway and rock doesn’t work so Harry is pretty convinced that she is hungry. Realising that YN is awake, Harry turns to her. “You wanna ‘ave a go? I think she’s hungry.”

“No, you have it all in hand,” YN says bitterly. “I’m just gonna make it worse.”

“YN, don’t be like that,” Harry says, annoyance clearly shown in his tone. “We’re a team. We’re supposed to be a team.”

“Like what?” YN challenges him, getting just annoyed at him as he is at her. “M’not being like anything!”

“You’re being so difficult!” Harry practically shrieks, making the crying even worse and they can hear a little whimper from the bassinet which means baby boy is going to wake up and cry any seconds now. “I don’t know what to do. We barely talk now and when we do it always ends with a fight. I hate fighting with you!”

He can see the tears making its way out of her eyes and down her cheeks and he feels guilty for snapping at her like that. Her hormones are out of whack and he should’ve been more patient with her. “YN, talk to me, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’ll sleep with Flynn in the spare room,” YN says as she picks her baby boy out of his little bassinet.

“No!” Harry shakes his head frantically. “We’re sleeping here, in this room. I’ll take the couch. But we’re staying in this room.”

YN doesn’t say more, and Harry quickly goes downstairs to warm up a bottle for baby girl before he reappears in their bedroom. He feeds her on the nursery glider, and burp her, before he stands back up to cuddle her back to sleep.

“So, that’s it then?” Harry says bitterly as he sways his hips in place to rock his baby daughter when he realises that YN is still awake. “You won’t hold your daughter?”

YN looks at him and there’s something in her expression that makes Harry feels like someone has just stabbed him in the chest. She looks so sad. Her face missing the warmth and colour that are usually there. “I do hold her,” she responds weakly. “But you said it yourself that I’m too selfish to take proper care of her.”

“I never said that!” Harry whisper-shouts, covering the ear of the baby in his arm as he does so he wouldn’t wake her up again.

“Yes you did!” YN insists angrily. Fat, hot tears are coming back and rolling down her cheeks. “You said I was willing to starve my daughter just to listen to my ego.”

“Let’s talk outside,” says Harry as he puts baby girl down in her bassinet and roughly takes YN’s hand to follow him out of their bedroom.

“I have NEVER said that to you,” Harry’s loud voice booms in the kitchen, emphasizing ‘never’ as he stares deadly at her in the eyes. There’s a lump in the back of his throat but he ignores it, his annoyance at her for twisting his words gets the better of him.

“But you did!” YN’s voice is just as loud, but cracks in the end, and the sound of it makes Harry feels as if Chuck Norris himself just kicked him in the balls.

“I didn’t!” He feigns innocence. “I just told you the other day just to let me feed her because she’s hungry. That’s all. And…”

YN feels like the room is spinning. It’s going so fast that she has to grip on the edge of the counter to keep herself from falling. She still sees Harry’s mouth moving but she can’t hear a word. So she walks away from the kitchen. Hastily. Towards the stairs and climbs upstairs, ignoring Harry crying out, “Where are you going? Come back! We’re not finished yet!” not because she intends to but because she can’t hear anything.

***

It can be extremely frustrating to live with someone who’s distant and sad all the time. Especially when there are newborns involved, adjusting to life with a newborn is hard enough. With YN slipping further away from him every day, Harry feels like all the responsibility is weighed upon his shoulders. And he is tired.

The babies are six weeks old, it means it has been four weeks since the last time he had a proper conversation with YN. There, in that couch, the one that he’s sitting on right now. He should be sleeping right now. Sleep when the baby sleeps, they said. But it’s 1:45am. He knows that at least one of the babies are going to wake up any seconds for their next meal. He doesn’t have to worry about baby boy, he still nurses like a champ, it’s their baby girl that he’s worried about. And the fact that her own mother seems to resent her.

Maybe it’s all just in his head. Of course YN loves their baby girl. It’s her own daughter. It’s their daughter. If she can love Anya like her own, surely she’ll love her own baby, no?

Harry feels like their marriage is slipping away, especially now that they’re sleeping separately although still in the same room. They barely talk, and when they do, it always ends with a screaming match. He doesn’t know whether or not the big kids know about the fact that their parents are now basically strangers living in the same house, he hopes they don’t, but they’re smart and it wouldn’t surprise him if they do.

He still doesn’t understand how it all got this bad. Every night before he sleeps, he always makes time to recall the things that happened, thinking probably he has missed something crucial that ruined his marriage, but nothing comes out of it. They were still good, very good before the birth of the twins. And even for the first two weeks afterwards, it was still like a dream. But then the babies start to get fussy, and they begin to not get enough sleep. Was that the thing that ruined his marriage? It couldn’t be, right? They were just tired. They still are. But people don’t get a divorce because they’re tired.

Then he recalled that one time when he was frustrated, they were all frustrated, really. And he said something about the fact that YN shouldn’t listen to her ego. Okay, he admits, he was a little harsh, but in his defence he was frustrated. And in his mind, he wasn’t in the wrong in that situation. He just wanted to feed his daughter as soon as possible because he knew that she was hungry. Was that wrong?

This is hard. All of this. The babies, his suffering marriage, his three older children who still require a lot of his attention because they’re at that stage where they treasure conversation and playtime with their parents the most. The sleep deprivation. He’s lucky enough to be able to take a six months paternity leave; if he weren’t he would probably just explode.

After their marriage, or whatever left of it, becomes like this, the presence of YN is barely something that fills three of his senses; sight, hearing and smell. He knows that she’s there, with him, living in the same house. They wake up around the same time, they go to sleep around the same time. But it’s just that, nothing more. He knows that she’s there because he sees her pacing around their bedroom holding their baby boy. And that half of the laundry bin in their room filled with her dirty clothes as well as his. Her brown fuzzy slippers at the end of the bed when she sleeps. The delicious smell of coffee that she always makes fresh every morning. The mixed smell of roses and berries that is so uniquely her when she’s sitting or standing close enough to him. The sound of her when she’s talking to the kids, or coos at the babies. Even the soft sob that he hears sometimes in the bathroom in the middle of the night when she thinks that he’s asleep.

Harry misses his wife.

There’s a little routine of them that Harry can’t forget every time he sits on that couch in their living room. It’s one of Harry’s favourites. Usually, after they tuck the kids in bed, they would sit on the couch downstairs before they have their dinner. YN, still in her work outfits, would sit beside him, taking the remote from his hand and resting her head against his chest. The TV is always on, but they rarely actually watch it. After two to three minutes YN usually mumbles, “I’m knackered,” and he’d say “take a little nap, then” before he kisses the top of her head and she’d doze off not long after. It’s never long. Twenty, thirty minutes max, but it’s one of Harry’s favourite moments with her throughout the week. That time at the end of the day when he gets to hold his wife, who somehow still smells so good and looks so beautiful that sometimes still makes his heart skips a beat, even after a whole day of work and a couple hours of herding their small children through their night routines. All of the things that are bothering his mind always seems to disappear somehow. It’s just him, and her, and everything just seems right in the world.

Sometimes, when the frustration takes over, Harry can’t help but wonder if he could just confront her. ‘What do you want, really? Do you want to get a divorce? Just say it.’ Because he’s tired of feeling helpless. He’s tired of feeling like he may have a little hope one second yet having it crushed the next. But when he sees her, he doesn’t have the heart to.

She’s YN, his wife. He loves her and he can’t lose her.

***

It’s Thursday, which means it’s James’s turn to pick the kids up from school and takes them to the park afterwards. And since Anya goes to the same school as Finn and Pippa, he always takes her with them too. He knows how much Harry loves his children, and honestly he just likes children in general so he doesn’t have any problems with his ex-wife’s step-daughter.

James and the kids are already at Kensington Garden, and they’re just waiting for Harry who’s coming with the twins. Harry thought it might be good for YN to have some quiet time alone at home for a little before the madness begins again. Besides, it’s good for the twins to get some fresh air.

It’s not often you hear that someone’s ex-husband and current husband become friends, but somehow James and Harry do become friends. Surely it wasn’t easy at first, both of them had their pride at stake and neither of them was willing to let it go first, but they were both good men, they still are. And they knew that if they could put their ego aside, it would be better for everyone, so they did.

“Daddy, that’s papa and the babies!” Pippa says excitedly as she points at Harry who’s pushing the double pram into the gated playground area. “Papaaaa!”

“Where?” James looks around before he finds Harry and babies. “Ah! Here!” He immediately waves his hand so Harry sees him. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Harry greets him as he walks towards them. “Alright, mate?”

“Great! You?” James says as he looks down at the prams and coos at the babies. “God, these two already look so much bigger than last week. Hi! Hello!”

“M’good, thanks,” Harry smiles at him. “They grow like a weed.”

“You look rough mate,” James comments, chuckling lightly. They’ve clearly reached that level of friendship. And James is not wrong, Harry does look like he needs a wash and a good night’s sleep. “I can try to help more with the big kids if you’d like.”

“Thanks, mate,” Harry turns to him, waving at Finn who’s waving at him from the big pirate ship. “I appreciate it.”

“Hey, s’nothing,” James grins at him. “How’s YN? She alright?”

Harry lets out a heavy sigh. “Honestly? I’m not sure.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” James turns to him, looking concerned. Harry isn’t the type to air his dirty laundry, but this is James. He is YN’s ex-husband. He has known her longer than he has, and they were married for years. If there’s any chance for James to help him, no matter how small, he’s taking it. “Is everything alright? You know that you can talk to me, right?”

“Was it this hard after you had Finn and Pippa?” Harry finally asks him.

“God,” James shakes his head. “Newborns are rough, mate. I remember being so exhausted all the time.”

“Did you and YN fight a lot?”

“We were both cranky from the lack of sleep,” James explains. “So yeah. Do you fight a lot now? By the way, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to of course.”

“No, s’fine,” Harry says. “Yeah we do. She’s just so sad and distant all the time and I don’t know what to do.”

“That explains, then,” James tells him. “Finn told me that she’s been crying a lot lately.”

“I swear I’ve tried everything, mate,” Harry sighs in defeat.

“Having a baby is hard, let alone two at once,” James begins. “So maybe she’s still trying to figure it out? I know you must’ve tried your best to cheer her up and all you need to do right now is just to be patient. I’m sure she’ll be alright once she gets the hang of it.”

“S’like,” Harry’s voice cracks and he hates it. “S’like there’s a really huge wall between us. I’ve tried to knock it down, tear it apart, but it just keeps getting stronger.”

“Look, mate,” James turns to him. “I know YN. She’s one of the kindest, most loving humans out there but I also know that she’s probably one of the most stubborn one too. You can’t tell her what to do. If she wants to open up to you, she will. Otherwise, she’ll just build that wall higher and stronger and if you insist to climb it there’s no way you’re getting out alive. Whatever it is that she’s feeling right now, or that she’s struggling with, you can’t make it go away. All that you need to do is just to be willing to wait this out with her.”

“Thanks, James,” Harry says. “Really, I appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Anytime, mate,” James smiles at him. “Remember, she’s just lost. She’s not gone. Just hang in there, yeah?”

***

“D’you wanna take a bath wi’me?” Harry looks at YN who’s putting Flynn in his bassinet. The big kids are asleep and the twins have just gone back to sleep with full bellies so it’s not likely for them to wake up anytime soon. “Might be nice, yeah? Been a while.”

YN shakes her head. “M’tired.”

“Please? I’ve missed you,” desperation evident in his voice. “S’gonna be nice. I’m gonna run it for us, yeah? We’ll use that soap, the one that we’re saving for the pope,” he chuckles lightly, hoping that the little Friends reference will make her laugh even just a little. Scratch that, just a smile from her will make him the happiest man alive.

“No!” YN exclaims, a little louder and harsher than she intends it to. “I’m tired Harry, just let me sleep.”

***

It’s 3am, and YN is surprised when she goes to the bathroom and finds Harry sitting on the floor, crying his heart out. His back is against the bathtub, and she immediately sits down next to him on the floor.

“H,” Harry shoots his head up to look at her as he hears his pet name rolls out of her lips. It has been weeks since the last time he hears that and God, does he miss it. H is one of the three pet names that YN has for him. The other two are darling and knobhead. She rotates those three pet names every day. To this day, Harry still has no idea where knobhead comes from and he’s not sure either about the rotation. What he knows is that every workday, at 7am, she’ll shake his shoulder gently, whispering softly in his ear: “Wake up, H.” Tomorrow it may be: “Knobhead, wake up.” He’ll never know for sure what he gets.

“H,” she repeats herself when she sees that Harry has stilled. “What’s the matter? I’ve never seen you cry like this before.”

For once, she’s met with silence. He doesn’t answer.

“Is this…” she trails off. “Are you crying about us? Our marriage? Or whatever left of that?” She chokes wetly.

Harry still doesn’t respond.

“Are you- are you crying because you want-” her breathing is getting harsher as if she’s choking. “You want to leave?”

“I wanted to,” Harry says weakly, admitting. Because he did. He had the thought. Divorce did cross his mind. It doesn’t matter for him whether he had been thinking about leaving for months or is it just five seconds of frustration before he snaps back to reality, he’s just as guilty.

“But I can’t,” he shakes his head. “You’re my wife. I’d chosen you. Can’t run away like a coward, s’my job to bring the smile back to your face.”

“You wanted to leave,” YN says at last, sitting motionless.

Harry just stares blankly at the cabinet under the sink.

“Harry,” YN says his name so low that it sounds more like a whisper. “Leave.”

Harry shakes his head frantically and YN continues. “This marriage sounds more like work on your part. I don’t know what happened with me,” she wipes away the tears that roll down her cheeks. “I hate to see you like this.”

“No,” says Harry firmly, still shaking his head.

“If it’s about the kids, don’t worry, you’ll-”

“It’s not about the kids!” Harry says quickly, cutting her off. “It’s about you. I can’t lose you.”

“Harry, I’ve changed,” YN whispers. “I don’t even recognise myself. You deserve better, just let me go.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head again. “I had chosen you, and you had chosen me. We’re gonna make this work, you and I.”

“But-”

Harry cuts her off with a kiss. A deep and passionate one, filled with desperate needs. Much to his surprise, she doesn’t pull away. It has been forever since the last time they kissed like that, and doesn’t matter their circumstances, neither of them wants it to end.

In one swift movement, he has her underneath him on their bathroom floor. His lips never leaving hers unless to take a breath, and even then it’s never long before he returns.

He leaves a trail of kisses down her neck, before pulling the tie on top of her nightdress to leave her chest bare before him. Within seconds he’s got her knees bent and her nightdress hitches up around her waist, his mouth feasting on her pulsing core. He has missed how she tastes.

She still doesn’t push him away when his tongue is buried deep inside her. He’s got both of his hands looped around her thighs before he thrusts one single digit into her. Slowly at first, but then he quickens the pace as it’s getting easier for his finger to pump into her. Not too fast yet not too slow; just a slow steady plunge deep into her heat.

She spreads her legs even more for him as his knee shoves between them. The better access makes him push his finger even deeper before he adds another. He puts pressure on her bundle of nerves with his thumb as his two thick digits make their way into her. It’s a stretch and she hisses as he buries them inside her to the knuckle.

With a gasp of his name, she falls into bliss. Closing her eyes as he pulls his fingers out of her. He climbs up and kisses her deeply as he takes out his member.

His hard cock curves up towards his belly, ruddy and dizzyingly thick. It has been a while and she forgot how intimidating his size is. He’s fully hard, the blunt tip is angry red and it’s leaking already. It looks threatening, and fuck, even the vein underneath is intimidatingly thick.

Too many moments later, he finally lets his cock dip down into her core, and she exhales the breath she’s been holding only to squeal when she feels him pressed against her folds. He really takes his time, coating his shaft with her slick before pushing into her again ever so slowly.

She winces as he thrusts inside her, but it feels amazing. The twinge of pain is easy to ignore with the way Harry feels inside of her and it’s literally just the tip. He lets out a groan, holding steady to give her time to adjust, knowing how much she needs it.

The second he’s fully in, she lets out a sigh, pulling him even closer to her body. He’s bare and hot inside her, the way he throbs is enough to force her eyes to close.

There’s a slowness to his movement that seems to translate into a deeper intimacy. There’s no rush, only a desperate need. He takes his time, not wanting it to be over anytime soon.

He’s sliding so deep, right into that pleasure-patch with every drive. She cries out, squirming underneath him as his cock hit painful depths. Her fingers hold onto his arms and she whimpers, unsure if it’s from discomfort or need.

It hurts, no doubt, it’s been a while after all. But his pace is steady and slow, and she knows that he’s taking every moment of her anguish and need. She moans into his mouth, practically panting as he kisses her over and over again, never leaving her lips for too long, nipping and sucking her bottom lip.

He feeds his cock into her again and again, coaxing her heat open with each stroke. The bump and drag of his member against her walls is nothing short of exquisite and dangerously intoxicating.

Everything goes white as she reaches her high. There’s no other sound except for the whir of pounding blood in her ears. She’s pretty sure she’s stopped breathing. He kisses her again on the lips, then her forehead, before he reaches for something from the cabinet under the sink to clean her up. He carries her to their bed, kissing her once more before he climbs onto his side of the bed. Mumbling “night, love” as he turns off the light on his bedside table.

She waits until he’s fully asleep before she wiggles out of his embrace. Scooting as far away from him as she can without falling out of the bed. And then she cries.

***

It’s frustrating to look in the mirror and not being able to recognise your own reflection.

For the past four weeks, when YN sees her reflection in the mirror, all she sees is that unrecognised woman standing before her. She looks sad and tired. There are two giant bags under her eyes, and she looks so cold and colourless that she thinks that whoever it is in the reflection must be sick.

She has never felt anything like this before. She is so anxious all the time. Although she is no stranger to anxiety, it has never got this bad. She is tired yet she’s struggling to sleep. She feels tense and irritable, and she has the urge to cry a lot more lately.

She feels terrible for not being able to bond with her baby girl the way she bonds with her baby boy. She tried, desperately, but when her baby girl refused to nurse it made her feel like she’s a failure. She is still feeling that way, especially every time she sees Harry feeding her with a bottle. She has this horrible sense of impending doom, like her babies are slowly starving and it was because she was a terrible mother.

“Harry, I think your wife has postnatal depression,” says the health visitor to Harry after she checks on YN and the babies. Physically, the three of them are doing amazing.

“I had a feeling,” Harry turns to her. “What should I do, then? What can I do to help her? Does she need some prescriptions?”

“Not yet,” she shakes her head gently. “I don’t think it’s very severe. But what you do matters significantly. Her moods and emotional vulnerability will likely get in the way of your communication for now, but keep assure her that you are there for her. Tell her that you know she feels terrible. Tell her she’ll get better and that she is doing the best she can. Tell her that she can still be a good mother even if she feels terrible. Most importantly, tell her that you love her. Your babies love her, all your children. She might not believe you when you tell her that she’s a good mother but tell her anyway. I can schedule a counselling for her but for now, make sure that you make time just for her. Five minutes a day for a start is enough. No babies, no paperwork, no TV, nothing but the two of you. Talk to her. She’ll probably ignore you at first but she’ll talk soon enough. Then you can gradually increase the amount of time you spend together just the two of you.”

“Thank you so much,” Harry looks at her, feeling hopeful.

“M’just doing my job,” she smiles at Harry. “Call if you have a question about it. Remember, just be patient.”

***

Little things matter.

After Harry got the advice from the health visitor and James, he knows that what he does really matter to help his wife, and he is willing to do whatever it takes for him to get his wife back. Every Sunday morning, he makes a trip to the Farmer’s Market to get her some daisies because it’s her favourite flowers. They take five minutes each day just for each other after all five of the kids are asleep, and although the health visitor was right and YN didn’t even say a word at first, now they begin to talk again and even laugh together even just a little.

They also begin to do the school run together. Fortunately, it’s close enough for them to just walk. Most of the time they take the pushchairs for the babies so they can walk around in the park after they drop the kids at school, but sometimes they just put them in a sling and carry them. It’s also the perfect time for Harry and YN to talk because the babies are the happiest in the prams or in the slings and they always sleep through their morning walk.

Harry knows that it’s probably too soon to say, but Harry feels like YN is slowly but surely coming back to him. They eat together again, they talk, and although Harry isn’t back in bed just yet, he’s now able to kiss her goodnight, which already makes Harry the happiest.

It’s 2:30am, and the babies are up crying because they’re hungry. YN is feeding Flynn on the nursery glider and Harry is about to head downstairs to make a bottle for Mila when YN suddenly stops him. “Harry, wait-”

“Yeah?” He looks at her, thinking that she’ll probably just ask him to get her something from the kitchen.

“Can I try first?”

Harry can’t believe what he hears, grinning instantly. “You want to try to feed her?”

YN nods. “Can I?”

“Love, you don’t have to ask!” Harry says, walking back to the bassinet to take their baby girl out and put her in YN’s free arm so she can feed her as well. She brings the baby closer to her chest and neither of them can believe what they see. “Oh my God-”

“Harry!” YN exclaims excitedly. “She’s latching! Oh my God, she’s doing it!”

“I see it!” Harry looks at her proudly, before leaning down to kiss her head. “My best girl.”

“Harry,” YN sighs happily. Happy tears rolling down her cheeks and Harry quickly wipes it away.

“Told ya,” Harry grins at her although his cheeks aren’t technically dry either. “It’s gonna be alright, I knew it.”

“I’m so happy right now,” YN tells him, making his grin wider. “But I know that I’m not back to my old self just yet. It’ll take some time.”

Harry leans down to kiss the top of her head now. “Darlin’, just knowing that you’re happy for now is enough for me. I know it’ll take some time, but it’s gonna get better, yeah? Trust me.”

“What if it takes years?”

Harry smiles at her. “I’ll wait it out with you.”

“You say that now, but-”

“In sickness and in health,” Harry quickly cuts her off. “For better or for worse.”

“Harry-”

“I love you. Completely besotted, absolutely enamoured, hopelessly in love wi’you. I don’t care if you don’t believe me right now, I’m telling you anyway because it’s true. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to remind you how much I love you if that’s what it takes.”

“H,” YN says before they lapse into silence. The pause seems forever but hearing her calling him with that pet name again after a while, he might bursts in happy tears right there right now. “I love you.”

Harry grins at her. Fat, hot tears rolling down his cheeks now and those are certainly happy tears. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” YN smiles at him.

“Again,” he begs. “Please.”

“I love you, H,” she repeats herself. “I take back what I said the other day. Don’t let me go.”

Harry leans down again, trying not to squeeze their babies, and this time to press his lips against hers. “Never.”

#harry #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #husband!harry #dad!harry #dad harry imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ff #harry styles blurbs #harry styles drabbles #harry styles concepts #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry talk

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Greatest Fears

TITLE: Greatest Fears CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 of 3 AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s wife suffering a terrible nightmare and him soothing her after it. RATING: T? Probably? I mean, if you got this far, you should be fine. NOTES/WARNINGS: This is an older fic. I meant to post it here when this imagine popped up, and then completely forgot to because I am great at planning. Since I’m going through my files trying to rekindle the muse, I figured I might as well post it now, y'know? XD

I… forgot to submit this chapter. I have failed this city.

__________________

After the initial shock and bemusement over the news that she now had a personal slave in Amora had waned; Samantha had smacked Loki upside the head for being so rash, kissed him for his intent to defend her, and then punched Amora hard enough to knock her to the floor for messing with her head. Loki was surprised at that last one, as she had never been one very prone to physical violence; he inwardly decided that Amora’s torment would be even worse now for rattling his wife that much.

“I really must say, Sam; rage is a… surprisingly good look on you…” Loki practically purred; wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and drawing her earlobe between his teeth, tugging it slightly, before kissing his way down to her neck, “Perhaps we could put it to more… productive use…”

His intentions were two-fold: He did want to calm her; as long as he’d known her she had been very self-conscious about her superhuman strength, and he knew that she would feel terrible about herself later if he let her lash out like that again. But there was also a part of him that wanted to flaunt his very healthy marriage in front of Amora, to further drive home her failure.

Samantha pulled away from him slightly. “This is hardly the time,” she replied and looked pointedly towards Amora, who was watching them with a mixture of anger and disgust as she got back to her feet.

Loki scoffed. “You didn’t seem to mind when I took you in that very public park in Midgard last year.”

“That was different,” Samantha said quickly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, “Nobody saw that.”

“Or maybe you were just too preoccupied to notice,” Loki teased.

“By the Norns; you are depraved,” Amora spat, looking very much like she might throw up.

Loki laughed darkly. “You don’t know the half of it.” He grinned menacingly. “Yet…”

“Out,” Samantha ordered, nodding her head to the doors.

“Yes, mistress,” Amora said through gritted teeth before she turned and walked away into the next room.

When she was gone Samantha turned around, looked up at her husband with an arched eyebrow. “Really?”

“She started it,” Loki replied with a shrug, causing her to roll her eyes. He looked at her intently and licked his bottom lip. “I was serious with my suggestion, you know.”

Samantha opened her mouth to reply, but he interrupted her by lunging at her suddenly and kissing her with an intensity that stole her breath away. She didn’t need much convincing after that as Loki pulled her over to their bed; and while Amora was spared from having to watch, the closed doors did very little to muffle the sounds of their passion, much to her dismay and Loki’s secret amusement.

***

Once Loki had had his temporary fill of Samantha, he told her about the last thing Odin had said to him. She had been a bit surprised; in the time she had known the Allfather, he had only rarely shown his adopted son any overt regard, let alone affection. She was careful to stoke the little ember of happiness the praise had given him and told him to remember the words well, not wanting to let the king’s actual good advice go to waste; she then left the Enchantress at the mercy of her husband after making him promise he wouldn’t take it too far (she didn’t think he would, but it didn’t hurt to make sure) and went off to find her father-in-law, intending to discuss matters further. She found the king speaking to one of his generals, and waited until they were finished to approach.

When Odin turned and acknowledged her, she commented, “You know; Loki is convinced he is losing what little sanity he still had left.”

Odin huffed a slight laugh then gestured for her to follow him to a nearby bench; once they were seated he said, “My late wife spent most of his life telling me that I was too hard on him; that I did not treat him as well as Thor.” He paused for a moment. “It has taken me far too long to realise just what she meant by that.”

“He has a sensitive heart,” Samantha said thoughtfully, “Which by no means makes him weak; he just… feels things more intensely.” She gave a slight laugh. “Combine that with an overactive and curious mind, a quiet disposition and a penchant for mischief; and I can’t imagine he was very easy to deal with.”

“Ah, but I should have made more of an effort to understand him,” Odin replied, and she only barely held back the urge to agree aloud. He was thoughtful for a moment then said, “I have made mistakes where both of my sons are concerned, but at least I can take pride in the men they have become.” He placed a hand over Samantha’s on her lap. “I have you to thank for bringing Loki out from the depths of madness and rage he spiralled into. I myself would never have reached him; I was at a loss as to how.”

Samantha smiled. “No one should have to feel that tormented.”

Odin returned the smile and said fondly, “You remind me of her so.”

“And I will always be honoured to hear that,” Samantha replied, knowing well to whom he was referring, “I wish I could have me her.”

“She would have adored you.” He was silent for another moment then said, “You are a fine young woman, Samantha. I confess at first I did not expect it to be so; my impression was that you would be as dark of mind and heart as Loki, for who else would love him as he was. Instead I was faced with a soul full of gentleness, quiet strength and compassion; and a son I never thought I would see again.” He patted her hands with a surprisingly fatherly affection. “You have my eternal gratitude for helping to make my family as whole as it can ever be again.”

***

By the end of Amora’s sentence she was thoroughly miserable. Loki humiliated her with the most menial of tasks (his favourites being having her change the bedsheets and assist him in his baths, which she loathed the most), and Samantha had her almost constantly running around on errands, though hers where a little less embarrassing for the Enchantress. Normally the former mortal would’ve balked at the idea of taking advantage of a situation like that, but she had been very upset over the nightmare and she figured maybe Amora would leave her alone after that.

Amora walked up to Samantha, who was lounging on a couch in the sitting room of hers and Loki’s hall with a book in one hand and a cup of wine in the other, and placed a small stack of books on a nearby table before turning to the other woman. “Is there anything else I can do for you, mistress?”

Samantha lifted her now-empty cup, wordlessly indicating she wanted a refill, without so much as a glance in the Enchantress’ direction. Amora swallowed her pride and anger, going over to another table and grabbing a jug of wine before going back and filling Samantha’s cup. The dark-skinned woman didn’t bother to acknowledge the action beyond taking a small sip of her drink and Amora bit back the urge to say or do anything she knew she would come to regret, resigning herself to simply standing there until Samantha told her otherwise.

Though she would never admit it aloud, Amora greatly preferred Loki’s wife to the man himself; aside from the often exhausting amount of running around to fetch things she had her do, Samantha mostly ignored her altogether. Loki was not nearly as merciful; often toying with her by giving her conflicting instructions then berating her as though she were an idiot when she got things wrong, as well as taking pretty much every chance he could to humiliate her in public, especially when her sister or Thor were around. The worst part of it was that Loki wasn’t actually hurting her; she hadn’t expected to survive the month after Loki’s reaction to her spell, but instead she was subjected to verbal torment and embarrassment and nothing more.

Loki walked into the room somewhat tiredly - wanting nothing more than a long bath and a nap with his wife cradled in his arms - and raised an eyebrow when he saw Amora standing in front of his wife, evidently awaiting a command. “You; with me,” he snapped.

“Yes, master,” Amora bit out, trying not to stumble over the title, as she followed him into the bedchamber then the bathchamber beyond.

Oh, how she hated calling him that. Which she knew was exactly why he insisted on it.

As Amora helped Loki strip out of his armour, Samantha leaned against the doorway. “I really hope you’ve learned your lesson here, Amora.”

“And what lesson would that be, mistress?” Amora asked; hating her current task even more now there was someone to witness it.

In a flash Loki had grasped her chin then none-too-gently turned her face towards his. “Never try to come between Sam and me again.” He released her and waved her off. “Your services are no longer required.”

As Amora walked out of the room Samantha walked past her into it to take her place, intending to join her husband after a week of not seeing him. After a while the Enchantress heard a bit of splashing coming from the room as well the distinct sound of moans, and decided that, yes; she had definitely learned her lesson.

#Loki #Lover #God of Mischief #Others #Submitted fic #submission #greatest fears #chapter 3 #malicemanaged

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allthelovelywriting · 4 years

Text

Stay

This was part of @rdrsecretcupid2020's Valentine Day event. I had the pleasure of writing a Valentine's Day gift for @eaglepatronus.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 2603

Summary: Arthur has always been loyal to Dutch, the alpha who was kind enough to take an omega like him in. That loyalty has never faltered, until a quiet morning's conversation with Charles, his alpha.

[ cross-posted to ao3 ]

The sun rose carefully over the horizon. The warm beams kissed the trees of the forest, morning finally come, but Arthur had been awake for hours. He can’t remember the last time he slept, let alone rested.

The small clearing he finds himself in isn’t much, just a reliable hunting spot. But to Arthur, it was something more. It was a place where there weren’t overwhelming scents of alphas and betas. Here, he could just be, without having to worry about any of that.

With a good amount of game strapped to his horse, perhaps far more than he needed, Arthur knew he should be getting back to camp. Someone always needed something—Dutch always needed something—and the sooner he got going, the sooner he could be out again, on another job.

And yet, he couldn’t make himself move.

Why?

Well, Arthur shifted against the log he sat in front, he knew why. Was it selfish, to just want a bit more time to himself? He thought it over as his pen moved along his journal pages. Switching from an entry about the latest job he’d done for Dutch, to an unfinished depiction of the clearing in front of him. Yeah, it probably was.

Guilt settles in his chest, a weighted, heavy feeling. He knows he has to get up soon, there really isn’t any other choice, and he hates that he’s even hesitating. Everyone at camp needs him to keep working, and here he is, wasting time. Even if Dutch is forever chasing that “one last heist”, he needs Arthur to be by his side. And yet, here he sits, miles away.

The uneasiness these thoughts have brought forward is calmed somewhat when a breeze blows through the area. A scent—familiar and full—is brought to him.

It’s a mixture of the bold smell of the forest trees they’d go hunting in; the fresh smell of grass in the camps they rested in; the smell of lemon bar soap, ever so slightly; but most of all, it's the heady smell of an alpha. His alpha. Charles.

He rides his horse into the clearing in the same calm, self-assured manner he does most things. That feeling is contagious, and Arthur lets himself rest a bit more, breathe a bit easier.

“Arthur,” Charles nods to him. He gets off his horse and walks over. Doesn’t make Arthur come to him; treats him like an equal, and goes to his mate himself. Even that, such a simple gesture, is one he’s starved of and makes his heart lift.

“Charles,” he greets back, and he can’t stop the smile that appears on his lips. Like a schoolboy with a crush, and yet, when Charles sits next to him, close enough so their shoulders brush, arms against one another, but choosing his left side so Arthur can continue to draw if he wants, he can’t find it in himself to stop the grin.

Arthur puts his journal away; gives his alpha his full attention. Charles smiles, easily, right back at him: “Been a while since I’ve seen you in camp.”

Arthur nods. He tried to come back to camp more often, not wanting to worry his alpha, but at the same time, Dutch always had something else for him to do. The moments he got to himself were few and far between, and the moments between him and his mater were fewer and further. It seemed they only got this: the times when Charles would come looking for him, on Dutch's request.

“Been huntin’,” he says, in lieu of an apology. He fails to mention the people he’s gone after recently, beating them for their debt money. Or the stagecoach robbery that ended worse off than he’d have liked, with a bad brawl with two alphas.

Charles knows all this, of course. Even if he weren’t Arthur’s alpha, the scent of an omega that had been in a bad scrap is unmistakable. And he’s covered in two other alpha’s scents, overlaying that of his bond. Charles must smell it, be aching to scent him again and reclaim his body, but he holds off. He knows that Arthur tries to please everyone in his life, and fears the ire that comes from lack of doing so. He needs to take things at his own pace, so Charles lets him. Doesn’t push when Arthur gives no further explanation.

“Caught a lot,” he says, nodding to Arthur’s horse. The whitetail on the back, the few rabbits on this side, and what looks some kind of bird on the other side isn’t bad at all.

Arthur perks up at the praise, “I’ve got more in my satchel, too.”

“So you’ve been eating then?” Charles questions, his tone light, even though he knows the answer. He reaches for his own bag, passing over a piece of jerky.

“Been busy, s’all.” Arthur eats the food, gladly. It’s almost serene, sitting in the rising sun’s light, Charles by his side.

They sit in silence for a little, enough for the sky to bleed more orange than blue. Charles turns to Arthur, and he didn’t even have to ask before Arthur is barring his neck, showing his bond mark, and silently asking for him to scent him. He wastes no time in making Arthur smell like his once more, kisses and a few bites placed on his neck for good measure.

It calms the omega, making him feel better than he had since... Well, since he had left camp, and Charles, about a week ago. It’s almost enough to make doze off, but—

“Have you been sleeping?”

Arthur bites back a sigh. He knew his mate would ask this, because it’s so obvious he hasn’t. This morning was the first that he’d not been constantly moving since he left camp.

“Been busy,” he says again, voice sounding smaller than he meant it to. “Dutch needed me.”

That causes Charles to pull away, and makes Arthur wish he hadn’t said anything.

“Arthur,” Charles says, concerned, but Arthur can’t help but feel like he’s about to get scolded. It’s a topic they’ve never really breached. Few arguments rose between them, but this was surely to be a point of contention.

“Charles,” he replies in kind. The comfortable silence is gone, and now he really wishes he hadn’t said anything. As much as it pains him to talk back to his alpha, his lover, his best friend, he feels he has to. Has to justify the countless hours spent running from county to county, risking himself. “I’ve got to be loyal to him.”

The past months haven’t been kind. Hell, it’s been rough since Blackwater, maybe even before, but these past few months especially have been rough for the gang. Now isn't the time to be slacking, or selfishly thinking about one's self. If a few bumps and bruises, scrapes and cuts, are what it takes to keep everyone alive, then that's what he'll do. It's the least he can do, for Dutch.

“After everything that’s happened, we got to stay together,” Arthur finds himself saying. “Just trust in him.”

Dutch’s words feel odd in his mouth, and he doesn’t like being a parrot, but there’s little else he can do. Justifying Dutch’s actions to himself has become increasingly hard, and in front of his mate, nearly impossible. Still, he feels like he has to try. It's the least he can do.

“Loyalty can’t be one-sided.” Charles allows his hand to meet Arthur’s, fingers intertwining to ground both of them. The touch is one of the few they're allowed in camp; it's quick and doesn't take time away from the seemingly countless chores. So it's familiar; welcome. Still, even Charles can't shield him from the harsh reality of his past.

There had been a time when Dutch would have told him to jump, and he'd ask how high; told him to steal, and he’d ask how much; told to murder, and he would only have asked how many. The omega muscle that was eager to please; to show his worth. To the gang, but more so to the alpha that risked so much to take him in.

Dutch had bet the safety of the gang, and even his respect as an alpha, to have the first member of his gang, besides the women, be an omega. And Arthur couldn't ever let him down. He'd given him a place to live, food, advice, a family, so what if maybe he had to fight to keep his trust? Sure, maybe he wasn't as accommodating as Charles, didn't meet him halfway for everything, and sometimes he questioned Arthur's loyalty, but that just means that Arthur wasn't showing his loyalty enough, wasn't it?

It wasn't with Charles. It was always fifty-fifty. A split; a compromise. The give and take of equals, even if he was an omega. Is that why their loyalty feels different? Unbreakable? With Dutch, it seems he has to fight to keep his trust. Never with Charles; he gave willingly.

“You can’t be the only one making sacrifices,” Charles continues. Arthur looks away. Wishes he still had his journal out, something to distract him.

“He took us in,” he urges. With Charles, it was different; an alpha’s chances are always better than an omega’s. Especially if that omega is a scrappy orphan, son of a known, hated alpha. If Dutch and Hosea hadn’t taken him, he’d be dead now, simple as that.

“I know why you’re loyal, Arthur,” Charles soothes, too understanding for his own good. The solid timber of his voice is just as calming as his scent, and has the omega, unwillingly, turning back to him. “But that doesn’t have to be all there is.”

His words take a moment to settle in Arthur’s mind, but when they do, they have the effect of cold water rushing over him. He whips his eyes to Charles’, and tries to hide the sinking feeling of dread in his heart, at least enough to keep his voice steady. “What? You want to leave the gang?”

It doesn’t work.

But he doesn’t really care. Doesn’t care if he sounds like a desperate little omega, because that’s his alpha talking about leaving him. The bond mark on his neck burns, and he wonders if it was just temporary, fleeting, a placeholder.

“Not alone, no.” A warm hand comes to rest on the mark, thumb running over it in smooth circles. The tension that had built up quickly fades just as fast and is all but disappeared with a kiss.

“The gang’s family,” he insists. “Can’t just leave them behind.”

A future with Charles is something he’s barely dared to hope for, but the thought of it coming at the price of leaving John, Hosea, even little Jack? It sets an uneasy feeling in him.

Charles nods. This isn’t something he’s going to convince Arthur of today, so he steps back. Gives Arthur the chance to go about it at his own pace, set his own boundaries. It means more than he’ll ever know.

The silence that overtakes them is calm once more, met with the sun higher in the sky than either of them would have liked. The sure, steady breathing of his mate is almost enough to let him doze off.

But he can't. Their conversation weighs over him. And though the silence is nice, he can’t help but try and justify;

“Someone has to do it.”

“It doesn’t have to be you,” is Charles’ easy reply. “At least not alone.”

He says it simply, like it’s obvious. Offers his help as if he wasn’t the first person to do so. That stirs emotions Arthur isn’t sure he likes, something that far too akin to butterflies, and much prefers to lean against the strong shoulder next to him. Maybe if he weren’t so tired, hadn’t been able to rest for so long, he would have cared more, but he doesn’t.

“It’s always been this way.” Arthur says it with a sigh, something even he wasn’t expecting. He’d always been resigned to his role, even happy to do it the first few years after Dutch let him go out on his own.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Arthur huffs at that, something like a laugh. How is it so easy for him to be so sincere, so caring? Like... like he truly does believe he’s worth it.

“I’m not a good man,” he states, quietly. It’s a fact. While none in the gang are exactly saints, he’s far worse, especially compared to the man next to him. The alpha that’s always been patient with him, met all his walls with compassion, never pushed too far, always respected his boundaries. His alpha.

Charles seems to consider this for a bit. It’s no secret that he doesn’t agree and that he’s tried in vain to convince Arthur otherwise. It's one of the few things they argue about, and neither of them wants that now. Charles has talked at length about how good he thinks Arthur is, and Arthur has denied it in turn.

He doesn’t start again, avoiding the argument and instead saying, “That doesn’t mean you’re not deserving.”

Deserving? Of what?

Charles wraps his arm around Arthur, holding him close.

Of this, he answers silently.

He hates how safe it makes him feel. How vulnerable he felt before, in retrospect. Hates the fact that tears had threatened to spill over, at such a simple gesture. He's so starved for this intimate kind of attention, and he never wants it to stop, and he hates that too. He hates the feeling that rises in his chest most of all: something so close to love it scares him.

“He needs me,” is Arthur’s final attempt at rebuttal. With his eyes closed, voice heavy with sleep as he rest against his mate, the argument must sound so weak, so hollow. But he has to try, because he doesn't like being this tired, even though he really doesn't have a choice.

Still, Charles refutes it: “I need you.” His arm stays in place around Arthur’s shoulders as the other comes to rest on his hand. Arthur watches as his calloused fingers intertwine, solidifying the moment.

“Healthy.” A quick poke to his too thin stomach makes him smile. He pauses before continuing, a breeze sweeps through the trees.

“Safe.” His voice is as steady as ever, and it holds some resolve. Neither of them knows what will come, but right now is all that matters. Being together.

“Alive.” There’s a hint of desperation in Charles’ voice, and it’s enough to have Arthur sitting up, despite how his weary body protests, and capturing his lips in a long-overdue kiss. Mouths pressing together, perhaps too harshly for what is supposed to be a caring gesture, but it’s what Arthur needs to ground him. To calm his the whirlwind of emotions he'll blame on tiredness and his long time away from his alpha.

“I don’t know what to do," he finally whispers when they break apart, in between panting breaths.

“Stay,” Charles says. Asks. Not commanding, not forcing. Allowing Arthur to make his own decision. Allow him to breathe, clear his head. He gives Arthur a choice; a chance at stability, a chance to inhale the Alpha’s scent for just a moment longer.

So he does.

There was never really a choice.

Arthur’s head comes to rest against Charles’ shoulder. Inhales deeply, taking in the scent of the alpha, much more calm than his own; grounding. Neither of them says anything. The silence stretches on, and Arthur, finally, rests.

#rdrsecretcupid2020 #arthur morgan #Charles Smith #charther #[ tagged: my writing ]

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xmagicxshopx · 5 years

Text

😈 Secret Admirer 😈 Epilogue

Genre: fantasy adventure, romance, angst Rating: PG-13 bordering M Warnings: brief but graphic violence, temporary deaths, angst Pairing: Jungkook x reader Notes: demon!jungkook au. Private Investigator Jungkook. Not idol!jungkook. Single quote marks ‘ ‘ are for thoughts and double “ “ are for talking. Additional Notes: This gets pretty emotional really quick. But I promise you, this is a happy ending~

Tagging: @sebastianshoe @fortunexkookie

Summary: All you’ve ever known is struggle. You fight to survive every day and you’re grateful for the little things. But one night, when you make a wish at 11:11pm on the 11th day of the 11th month…….your whole world gets turned upside down.

“Kookie.....Is this trip necessary???”

“Of course it is. Absolutely.”

“But what if they’re in there???”

“My beautiful angel.....that’s what we want.”

It had been three days since you discovered that your mysterious secret admirer was actually your coworker who turned out to be under cover as a private investigator. Not confusing at all, right? How about we throw in the fact that he’s a demon too. Yeah. That would explain the red eyes you had nicknamed him for.

You weren’t going to lie, it was quite the shock. Even more so when he explained to you how you had been in a coma for nearly six months. It didn’t even feel like that much time had passed. It just felt like you had fainted and woken up a few minutes afterward. How wrong you were.

It had all happened so fast. You woke up from your coma, discovered what Jungkook was, accepted him for what he was, and then you had blacked out. Only from Jungkook’s point of view, you had flat lined. He sat there frozen with confusion and fear as he watched the line on your monitor and the straight beep ringing in his ears.

You were dead.......

“No.....No.......No no no no no no no no. Human! Don’t do this! Don’t go! Don’t leave me! Come back!”

The demon had never ever lost his cool. It was just something he was good at. But having dealt with your absence for so long and to finally have you awaken only to be taken away from him a few minutes later......it broke him. He was in hysterics as he started sobbing over your motionless form; even going as far as trying to shake you back to life.

You were gone. You were on your way to Heaven.....

Wait......

That’s it.

He had to stop you.

Thinking fast and knowing time was short, the male climbed into bed with you and instantly fabricated a large kitchen knife with the snap of his fingers. As he positioned the tip of the knife to the spot over his chest where his black heart beat, he mumbled to himself,

“Probably overkill but nothing like making sure I don’t miss.”

Closing his eyes and calming himself enough to focus, Jungkook swiftly pushed the knife forward and ended up letting out a small choke before allowing himself to fall backward onto the bed; arms falling limp at his sides.

To any outsider, it would be like watching a modern play of Romeo and his beloved Juliet. There the two of you lay on his grand king sized bed. You with your lips blue and skin ashen gray. The demon motionless as black liquid poured from his self-inflicted wound; a small trickle of the same substance crawling its way down from the corner of his lips.

Jungkook woke up in a foggy field full of wild flowers. It was so peaceful as he sat up and gently rubbed the back of his head. Looking around, he took notice of a stream nearby with a few wild animals refreshing themselves with the crystal clear liquid. Looking down at himself, he realized his chest was completely free of injury and he was dressed in white.

“Little Human!”

That’s right. He was on a mission. Scrambling to his feet, the demon looked all around for some sort of path or directory that would tell him where you might be. Did Heaven even have a directory??? Just when he was about to say screw it and start running in a random direction, it was like his thoughts were being read as a stone pathway suddenly formed right in front of him.

Not even questioning it, Jungkook started into a sprint as he followed the newly laid path. He could only hope this path would lead him to you. The demon obviously wasn’t one to pray, but for the first time that he could recall, he was praying you hadn’t walked through the pearly white gates yet. He prayed that he was going to make it in time to stop you.

Honestly, it was a miracle the demon hadn’t burst into flames yet. He wasn’t exactly welcome here. Now that he thought about it, how had he even made it here??? Of course every one of God’s children were to be judged at their time of death, but one would think a demon would automatically be sent to hell, right? Hmm.....

And there you were; standing in front of the famous gates to Heaven. A paradise for all of God’s children who stay faithful to Him and His word. The perfect home for an angel like you.

But a place he could not follow.

You were absolutely beautiful. Stunning, even. Standing there looking the healthiest you had ever been with an excited smile on your face. Your skin had a radiant glow and the sundress you wore hugged your body perfectly. You were gorgeous. The angel to his demon. The light to his darkness. You were his other half.

And he couldn’t let you go through those gates.

“Wait! Don’t do it!”

‘Huh?’

You recognized that voice. Quickly turning around, you were shocked to find the male that had quickly become your whole world running right towards you. Within seconds, he had you wrapped up in his strong arms and was pulling you away from the entrance to Heaven. Confusion filled you as you tried to calm the frazzled boy down.

“Jungkook---What are you doing here??”

“You can’t go in there. You can’t.”

There the two of you stood with your arms around him rubbing his back and his face stuffed in the crook of your neck. Honestly if you weren’t already dead, you’d guess he was squeezing the life out of you with how strong he clung to you. Trying to get him to understand while still soothing him with back rubs, you spoke softly.

“Kookie. It’s my time to go. God told me I don’t have to struggle anymore. It’s time for me to go home.”

That only seemed to make things worse as you felt his towering form begin to shake against your smaller frame. If it were possible, it only made him cling to you tighter. With audible tears soaking your shoulder, he shook his head against your neck and managed to wail through his tears,

“No! I refuse to believe that! It’s not your time! Not yet!”

It broke your heart seeing him like this. He seemed like too good of a person to be a demon but the red eyes don’t lie. God his tears were making you cry now. Sniffling and whimpering, you clung to him just as tightly. Perhaps there was a part of you that didn’t want to leave if it meant being without him. You had grown quite close over your time together in the storage room of the department store.

You enjoyed his cheesy corny jokes and of course he always made sure you were eating and drinking plenty of water. Jungkook took care of you. Your secret admirer had been taking care of you all this time and you didn’t even know it. The repairs to the apartment, the new shoes, the sticky notes. Everything. It was all Jungkook. The big bad demon who was supposed to have a black heart.

But then it hit you......If you were here......and he was here......then that meant---

“Jungkook----You’re----”

“Dead. Yeah.”

You stared up at him wide-eyed while he smiled a bit sheepishly but sadly. He had finally stopped crying. Reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear, the demon explained in a soft voice,

“I had to stop you somehow. This was the only way I knew how.”

Before you could respond, he continued.

“I’ve witnessed a lot of deaths, little human. Deaths that were well deserved. Souls that resembled rotten apples. Hearts blacker than the ace of spades. They deserved to die. But you......”

Your eyes began to water once more as you knew where this was going. You whimpered as he lovingly tried to wipe your tears before they could fall from your eyes; a sad smile on his face.

“You don’t. You deserve to live. A soul as pure as yours deserves a second chance. Take it. Live the life you were meant to live. You can have my apartment and my funds. While you were in a coma, I made up a will and put everything in your name should something happen to me.”

“Jungkook stop.”

But he just kept going.

“I’m a demon. A dark soul. A follower of Hades. I belong in hell. I deserve to die. But not without making sure you’re taken care of first. My precious little human. My angel. Please don’t cry.”

“Ahem.”

The two of you broke apart from your desperate clinging to each other only to turn around and see a young man dressed in a white robe with the hood up. He was standing by the gates with a warm smile on his face. His skin was the most beautiful tan you had ever seen and you were pretty sure those were dimples you saw coming from his smile.

“Hello, my children.”

You instantly recognized that voice. It was the voice of God Himself! Your eyes widened as you immediately gave a 90 degree bow to which the male only chuckled softly while waving a hand gently in the air.

“No need for formalities, my child. Please rise and face me as an equal.”

You felt Jungkook rest his large, warm hand on the small of your back as you straightened up once more to stare at the man Himself. Swallowing hard, you watched His smile widen a bit; a twinkle of amusement in His warm brown eyes.

“I see you are reconsidering your choice to come home.”

Eyes watering all over again, you sniffled to help stop your nose from running and making your face look even worse than it already was. Swallowing hard, you spoke in a begging voice,

“Please, Father, let Jungkook come with me.”

“Forgive me, my child. But Jungkook is not like you and I. He does not belong here. Where you and I go, he cannot follow.”

This only made you sob harder with your eyes screwed shut and your face twisting in emotional pain. Just when the demon himself was about to reach out and comfort you, he was shocked by the next words that came flying out of your mouth.

“Then let me take him with me back to Earth! If I go back, so does he! I’m not leaving him! I love him! We’re a package deal!”

Whoa. Okay. That definitely wasn’t what Jungkook was expecting. Did he hear you right? Did you just say that you.......that you loved him? All he could do was stare at you in shock while you stared firmly at the Heavenly Father Himself; a stubborn pout on your face the entire time.

Meanwhile, God was smiling fondly at the two of you. Things were going exactly as He had planned. It was true what they say, God has a plan for all of His children. That included you and your little demon boyfriend here. With soft chuckles, the pure male spoke with amusement in His voice.

“I thought you might say as much, my child. Fortunately for you, I came prepared for such a demand.”

And that was how you now found yourself three days later back on Earth standing in front of the department store you and Jungkook worked at for all those months. Hand-in-hand with you sporting a nervous expression while he was grinning like the cat who ate the canary. Letting out a shaky breath, you watched the small cloud leave your mouth from how cold it was outside. It was November after all.

“Do we have to go in there? What if they recognize me???”

“Babe---again---that’s what we want. We want them to recognize you.”

You chewed on your bottom lip in extreme nervousness while the male simply glowed with giddiness and opened the door for you; gently nudging you in first before following close behind you. No longer were you shivering from the cold, but from nerves.

This was the first time you were back in the clothing store since your coma. It had been six months since you were last here. Surly they had replaced you already, right? Perhaps it had been so long that no one would recognize you. However, your persistent boyfriend was about to make sure they didn’t.

“Hello. Welcome to----”

Dang. So much for being forgotten. The two snooty girls who always stayed on register duty definitely recognized you as both you and Jungkook approached them. Good lord you really didn’t want to have this conversation. Your instincts drove you to cling against the male’s side like lint on his designer dress coat. Not able to find your voice, your boyfriend spoke for you in a chipper tone.

“Hello, ladies. My girlfriend and I are hoping to find her a new winter coat. Only the best for my angel, after all.”

Dear god he was laying it on thick, wasn’t he? You nearly squeaked in shock when you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head with his arm wrapped around you lovingly. Any other time, you would have mewled and cooed at the display of affection. However, right now, all you wanted was to hide in the nearest clothes rack and never come out.

The two girls stared on in shock as they tried to process what they were seeing. How could a handsome man like Jungkook be with a scrawny, poor peasant like you??? It didn’t make sense. However, upon seeing the male raise a curious eyebrow with an expression that clearly stated he was waiting for their assistance, the two girls immediately started to scramble and stumble over their words; trying to explain where the best coats were in the store and such.

“Thanks, ladies. My angel and I can take it from here.”

Needless to say, Jungkook pulled one last prank on the two witches before he strolled out of the store with a brand new coat for you; whistling as if he hadn’t just totally caused the two females to fall flat on their faces as their shoelaces had become mysteriously tied together sometime between ringing up the new winter item and handing the large bag to your boyfriend.

“That’s not what God meant by using your powers to right wrongs, Kookie. You know He’s watching, right?”

You pouted cutely as your boyfriend simply winked at you and replied casually, gently swinging the bag that contained your new winter fur coat,

“I’m sure He’ll let this one slide, babe. Think of it as karma. No worries. Now---Let’s go to the diner and have some lunch. I’m starving and you need to keep eating so that you stay glowing and beautiful.”

Meanwhile, just across the street from the diner watching the two lovebirds taking a seat at a booth perched against the window, stood two young men wearing trench coats along with hats to cover their faces. One wore a gorgeous white coat while the other wore a pitch black one.

“Told you he’d prank them. You owe me a drink, Joon.”

Joon. Kim Namjoon. Also known as God Himself. The tanned male smiled in amusement as he watched the young couple happily chatting in the diner. You would occasionally giggle over something the young ex demon would say; hand covering your lips in an attempt to stay decent and respectful to others trying to enjoy their meal in peace.

“Fair and square, Tae. But I still have faith the boy will keep his end of the deal. He’s not all bad.”

Tae. Kim Taehyung. Also known as Hades himself. The blonde male sported a boxy smile as he too watched the scene from across the street. Taehyung had taught Jungkook everything he knew about being a demon. However, ever since you had stepped into the picture, Jungkook’s performance was more than lacking. With a soft bark of laughter, the evil male said coolly,

“Eh. You can have him. He was turning sloppy anyway. Hasn’t handed me a soul in months.”

On the other side of the street, you sat there staring out the window with a clear view of the two males leaning against a wall opposite the diner. Your smile was warm and loving as you instantly recognized God Himself. Hoping that He could see you, you couldn’t help but say out loud in your head,

‘Thank you.’

Life was rough sometimes.

But with a little faith......

Things could always turn around for the better.

#bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts imagines #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagines #jungkook imagine #demon!jungkook #demon jungkook

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elisaphoenix13 · 5 years

Text

Daze And Pumpkin Spice

It took time, but eventually Scott recovered from his time as a captive. Not completely, but he was more or less back to his usual self. He hung out with the team on the family floor, helped them out during missions or attacks, and continued to be a great father to Cassie. His behavior around Quill changed though. Not dramatically, but the celestial had been watching Scott like a hawk and was looking for the signs. Like the way Scott wore more high collared shirts, turtlenecks, sweaters, anything to hide the scars on his neck. How he avoided looking at anything that reflected his image...and how he turned away from Quill's comforting presence in the middle of the night when he woke from a bad dream. It wasn't a daily thing though. Those days, Quill dubbed the bad ones. The really bad days? Those were when Scott's scars flared up and he couldn't stand having anything touching them. No clothes, hands...it sometimes hurt bad enough that he couldn't turn his head.

On those days, Quill would stop his reach for the clothes to hide his neck and gently redirect him to his normal attire. The nights Scott turned away, the celestial would wake and turn onto his side to bring his boyfriend back against his chest as a silent reminder that he was there. Whenever Scott stared too long at his reflection, Quill did whatever he could to garner the younger's attention and distract him. It kind of disturbed the pirate whenever he caught Scott staring at his reflection because he never seemed to quite be looking at his reflection. Like the lights were on but nobody was home. It was one of the big reasons Quill distracted him.

Another reason being that Scott zoned out so much that he was burning breakfast.

"Babe! The eggs!" Quill shouts as he rushes over to turn off the stove (one of the few things he knew how to do with it) and Scott blinks and looks down at the charcoalized eggs.

"Shit."

"They probably taste like it now too." Quill jokes and Scott rolls his eyes before dumping the pan into the sink.

"The bacon and sausage are fine. I'll get some pancakes started-"

"Nope. Don't move."

Scott tilts his head in confusion as Quill leaves the kitchen and up the steps to Cassie's bedroom door. Since he couldn't cook with appliances to save his life, Cassie would have to finish making breakfast. It was a good thing she liked cooking, and even if she didn't, all Quill had to do was tell her that her dad was having an off day and she would help in an instant. Quill still told her Scott was having an off morning when she opened her door in her pajamas, and she quickly agreed to finish breakfast while Quill helped Scott get his day back on track. It was a ritual of sorts and they did their best to pretend that Cassie wasn't aware of Scott's dilemmas. It only made him feel worse when he knew his daughter was worrying about him so she and Quill agreed it was best she feigned ignorance.

Once breakfast was taken care of, Quill went back down to the kitchen to take Scott up to their room and keep him out of his head. After having the younger sit on the bed, Quill sat beside him and gently moved the neckline of his shirt to kiss the scars littered at the base of his neck. A show that he didn't see Scott any differently because of the physical reminder of the torture he sustained. Scott was a little insecure about them. He actually thought that Quill wouldn't want him anymore and when the pirate found out, it broke his heart. His kisses always led to bringing Scott into a tight hug. Another silent promise that he was there and very much still wanted Scott. Imperfections or not.

"Where did you go?" Quill asks quietly against raised skin.

"I'm fine now."

So Scott was going for the deflecting method. Deep down, he knew Quill loved him no matter what, but now there's was always a small part of him that wondered the what ifs. Like what if Quill was lying to him? What if one day he decided the scars were horrifying to look at and he went back to space...

...and left him behind?

It was a big fear of Scott's, and Quill only knew about it because he had a really bad day. All of his moments in one day kind of day. One that had him breaking down in their room because his neck hurt, the nightmares plagued him, and every part of him wanted to dig himself a hole to crawl into and hide. That night it took hours to get Scott to calm down and a majority of it was spent not touching him at all because Quill didn't want to hurt him further. That is until he managed to use his powers to simultaneously make his hands hot or cold depending on what Scott needed. It was easier to soothe him after that and Quill found himself sitting against the wall with Scott sleeping against his chest and a hand pressed against the scars, and his back was killing him.

He never moved though. He let Scott sleep as long as he needed it because he absolutely did need it. His nightmares always had some of his memories of his time with that crazy bitch.

"Try again sugar."

Scott slowly relaxes into the attention Quill gives to his scars and the gentle circles being rubbed into his back. "...there."

"What about now?" The pirate asks carefully.

"Here. Home." Arms wrap around Quill. "With you...and Cassie."

"Okay. Good. What are your plans for today?"

"Grocery shopping."

Well now Quill knew what triggered Scott's episode. That was what he was on his way to take care of when he got taken. Maybe he was having some anxiety over the trip. Thankfully it didn't always happen and if it did, Cassie went with him and he was fine...but it looked like it was one of those days Scott needed the extra security. He was a grown man that could take care of himself, but even he needed to be taken care of.

Quill would give him that security without a second thought, even if he despised the grocery store. There was food at the store that made him think it was part carnival or something and it always threw him for a loop. Just when he thought he finally saw everything he missed over the past thirty years, something new always popped up.

Scott and Cassie started to make a game out of it.

"I'll go with you today. Will that help?"

"It's okay. I'll be fine. I know you hate the store." Scott mumbles.

"Total understatement but I love you more than I hate the store. So we're going to go down and eat the incredible breakfast that Cass no doubt fixed, and then you can drag me kicking and screaming to the grocery store. Sound good?"

Finally, Scott laughed. Granted, it wasn't a full laugh, more of a chuckle, but Quill would take it. He got Scott away from a certain mindset and that was his main objective. Now he just had to eat breakfast and survive the grocery store.

"Hey Spaceman?"

"Yeah babe?"

"Breakfast."

Quill grins. "Well if you insist."

He pushes the younger onto his back on the bed and Scott shouts out in surprise before trying to scramble away.

"I didn't mean me!" Scott attempts to push the celestial off of him, but of course it was like trying to move a brick wall.

"You weren't specific!"

"Quill, you have issues!"

"Of course I have--OH SHIT!"

Quill yells when his left hand meets air instead of the bed and he falls off the side of the bed and lands with a loud thud when his back hits the floor. Despite the temporary pain, it got an actual laugh out of Scott who was trying to stifle it with a fist.

"Real breakfast Quill."

"You are real breakfast." The god quips and earns an eye roll from Scott.

"Just for that, I'm not helping you up."

"You won't need to because you'll be helping yourself up."

"What-" Quill pulls Scott down on top of him and traps him in a bear hug. "Ugh! You suffocating teddy bear!"

The couple struggle on the ground for a few moments until Quill finally releases Scott with a chuckle. They get back up when Cassie yells for them to go eat breakfast, but before Scott opens their bedroom door, he turns back to Quill and pulls him down into a kiss. A thank you follows as soon as they move apart and the two go back downstairs to enjoy the meal that Scott started and Cassie saved. Quill would have felt useless on their floor since Scott and Cassie did the cooking, and Scott had his company for extra funds, but Quill had his own way of contributing. A big part of it being a sense of security for both Cassie and Scott. He also did some of the heavy lifting for those days when Cassie wanted to do some thorough cleaning, and he actually had to use his size to intimidate someone that had the gall to bother her at the mall. He and Scott were elsewhere in the mall so Cassie could do her own thing, but one text from her had Quill running to her location. Scott received the text, showed it to the celestial, and the next moment Quill was off. The look at the guy's face when he saw Quill was priceless and they were pretty sure he might have wet himself.

After breakfast, they cleaned up and all three of them went to the store. Cassie said there were a couple of things she wanted to get in the non-grocery area and Scott just dragged Quill through the store. Quill almost had a meltdown when he saw pumpkin flavored cheerios.

"Why? Why? Who wants their cereal to taste like vegetables?!"

Scott rolls his eyes and takes the box out of Quill's hands and puts it back. "How is it you find something to complain about every time we visit a store?"

"I thought space was supposed to be weird!"

"It is weird. To normal earth dwellers like us. You on the other hand think things that are normal to us..."

Quill huffs and folds his arms, his muscles straining against his shirt and causing a a couple of nearby woman to ogle. "Pumpkin flavored everything is not normal Scotty."

"I agree...but don't yell at Cassie."

"Why would I yell at...?"

He looks toward the end of the aisle they're in and finds Cassie walking toward them with not only her armful of items, but also an orange drink in her free hand. She dumps her things in the cart, looks back up, and tilts her head curiously when she finds Quill glowering at her drink.

"What's wrong Papa?"

"What in the fresh hell are you drinking?!"

"Uh...a pumpkin spice frappuccino. Want to try?" Cassie offers up the drink and Quill grimaces.

"No. I'll pass thanks."

The teen shrugs and contentedly sips her drink as they continue shopping, the celestial grabbing things just out of reach, and the rest of the errand almost passed by quietly. Almost. Toward the end, when Scott and Cassie were grabbing the last couple of things on the list, they lost track of Quill. They weren't worried because he wandered off, that man could most definitely take care of himself, but when he wandered off in a place that sold food? It was a meltdown waiting to happen.

"Where's Quill?" Scott asks as he looks around the aisle he and Cassie are in.

She does the same and frowns. "He was right next to me."

"Maybe he went to the-" Scott starts.

"PUMPKIN SPICE VODKA?!" They hear from a few aisles away.

"...bathroom. Cassie, go get your dumbass other dad."

Cassie giggles. "We'll meet you at the register."

"I DON'T WANT TO LIVE ON THIS PLANET ANYMORE!"

#scott lang #peter quill #antlord #cassie lang #celestialfamily

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hphmbang2020 · 4 years

Text

A Snadger Story

Merry Christmas, @slytherincursebreaker !!

From your secret santa, @thewasp1995

Elia you know that hearts never lie

A scribbling of a quill scratched the line out.

“No that’s not it.”

Elia, where the mind rests the heart never sleeps

Were I never to wake to see you, tears I would weep

Another scribbling of the quill.

“Damn. Why can’t I find the right lines to this?” muttered a boy of average height with severe but handsome features and neatly combed brown hair.

Making sure no one else was listening in (the Slytherin dungeons were not very well lit and contained plenty of snoops) Felix dipped the quill back into the ink and attempted to resume his little project once more. But this wasn’t just another monotonous essay from Professor Snape….it was far more personal.

Felix Rosier had to resist blushing when he thought of Elia Westerling. A beautiful, vivacious Hufflepuff girl who hailed from Essex. The House of the Badger was often written off as uninspiring or even useless by some critics from other houses, but this particular Hufflepuff was someone he would never soon forget. Slim, curvy, with raven hair and hazel eyes, Elia had a personality to match- confident and self-assured but also playful and a tad mischievous which made her any boy’s match if they tried hitting on her. Felix had never tried himself, but by Merlin he wanted to and rather than embarrass himself with a cheesy pickup line, perhaps a poem would be able to better catch her attention.

Then there was the matter of her family- she was of mostly French and Turkish descent though she was English on her mother’s side, the fact was wizarding blood only went back two generations- two of her grandparents had been muggles. This made it that much harder to confess his feelings, his parents would certainly frown. He could already hear his older cousin, Evan admonishing him.

Intermarriage dilutes the magical blood, Felix. Even talking to one of those wretched creatures is an affront to everything we stand for.

Even with all this in mind, Felix had long decided not to pay much attention to his family’s pure blood prejudices. Elia was a witch that was indisputable, and a damn good one. He wasn’t going to let something so trivial get in the way of at least taking a shot. Besides, Evan had held onto that ideology with an iron fist and look where he ended up? Buried six feet under, killed by Mad-Eye Moody himself.

No, he wouldn’t let remnants of the Dark Lord’s memory bully him into deciding what he wanted, and that was Elia. The bigger question remained, however: how would he give her this poem?

“Alright, let me see…”

“Whatcha doin?”

The sound of a young girl’s voice made him jump almost ten feet in the air, spilling ink all over the desk.

“Merlin’s beard, Allison! Where do you get off sneaking up on people like that?”

“I don’t know,” the girl shrugged. “I was just bored and wanted to see what you were up to.”

Felix sighed. Allison Garrison had been nothing but a pain in his arse from the day she had arrived at Hogwarts. It was his first year being a prefect but the last he expected was for them to be so…blunt, or at least that was the case with Allison. She constantly talked back, caused mischief, and lost more house points from Professor Snape in one month than any other Slytherin in an entire year. His memory of his own time at age eleven was somewhat hazy but he was also quite certain that he had been able to keep his mouth shut for the most part.

This first year held no such ability.

“It’s just homework I have to do. Nothing that need concern you, Garrison.”

“It doesn’t look like homework.”

Good heavens, this girl just won’t let up.

“And how can you tell?”

“You keep crossing things out. Over and over again. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t take you that long to write a sentence for a Potions essay. And you’re mumbling constantly.”

Despite the negative attributes he associated with the first year Slytherin girl, Felix had to admit she could be quite clever and extraordinarily perceptive for someone her age. It was impressive and at times such as these, annoying.

“Whatever I’m doing, it’s still none of your business, Garrison. Now go.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that Hufflepuff girl you’re always staring at-”

Felix cut her off with a temporary silence charm before lifting it.

“Must you always be a problem?”

“How’s it my problem you can’t tell a girl that you like her?” Allison responded sarcastically with a hint of a smirk. “Oh, I can picture it now. A snake and a badger together in never ending love. A snadger! Yeah, that’s what I’ll call it. Snadger!”

“Garrison, unless you want detention, I suggest you take your prattling somewhere else.”

That threat seemed to finally work as she had served a few already and would not enjoy another session pickling toad guts with Professor Snape. Nevertheless, she continued to taunt him as she left the room skipping and singing, “Snadger, Snadger, Snadger” all the way out of the common room.

“The little first year is going to give me an aneurysm someday,” Felix muttered to himself, attempting to return to his poem. With any luck, he could finish it before dinner and give it to Elia then.

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

Felix ran a hand through his hair as he entered the Great Hall, all abuzz with activity as it usually was. He knew Elia liked it that way, but he didn’t want to make it seem like he had done it on purpose. Better to be casually aloof and spontaneous than give away it was all part of a calculated plan.

Making his way over to the Hufflepuff table, he received some confused even hard stares from some of them. It was no secret that Slytherin was the least liked among the four houses and while the puffs were not quite as hostile as the Gryffindors, there was a clear stark contrast between ideologies: hard work versus ambition, fair play versus cunning, honesty versus doing whatever it took to win regardless of moral implications. Thankfully, Elia did not share such sentiments- they had been friends since first year after all, but trying to confess your feelings to girl was still nerve racking all the same.

He tried to calm himself, taking a deep breath through his nostrils.

Just ask for a moment of her time, which she’ll give you. Read her the poem, ask her to Hogsmeade and it’s over. Easy right?

Before he could debate further in his head, an odd sight made him stop in his tracks. A first year Slytherin girl that looked painfully familiar was already chatting away to Elia of all people. Feeling his stomach drop three feet, Felix rushed over as quickly as he could.

“Of all things…what on earth is she doing talking to Elia?” he muttered.

When he reached the scene, the horror reached new levels.

“Oh, hello, Felix,” Elia said, a hint of amusement in her voice. “I was just talking to one of your first years. She’s quite interesting you might say.”

“Interesting how?” Felix asked trying to keep his tone as light as possible.

“Oh, I told her everything,” Allison boasted but with a dangerous twinkle in her eye. “I told her you’re my prefect of course, how you keep trying to get me to stay out of trouble, the incident with Devil’s Snare, Merula, even giving me detention. She told me that you guys have been friends for over five years now.”

“That is true,” he replied tersely. Elia seemed like she was trying not to laugh but this was not unfolding the way he wanted it to. The mischievous look on Garrison’s face only spelled further trouble.

“So why haven’t you told her, yet? You know? About the po-mmhmhmmmff”

It was then that Felix’s patience ran out as he covered Allison’s mouth with his hand and spun her away from the Hufflepuff table.

“Very nice to see you, Elia,” he said forcing a smile that was more like a grimace. “But I do believe we must be going.”

He began leading Allison away but the Hufflepuff girl stopped him.

“Felix, it’s okay, let her go. I’d like to speak with you in private.”

Such a calm, reassuring tone from Elia, who rarely turned down an opportunity to tease him, helped deescalate the situation. He released Elia, but not before she licked his hand with her tongue.

“Ack! I’m not finished with you, Garrison. Stay here until I return.”

“Whatever you say,” Allison responded in that same sing-song tone. “Have fun, snadgers!”

Felix had to be practically led away from the Great Hall from the eyes of other prying Hufflepuffs, still mortified from Allison’s meddling.

She knows. She knows that I like her and she’s going to let me down easy. All because that stupid first year couldn’t shut her mouth for two seconds.

Upon exiting, Felix heaved a heavy sigh, figuring it was best to rip the bandage off quickly before the inevitable rejection came.

“Elia, I’m sorry about her,” he said. “I wanted to tell you myself, but she beat me to it, I guess.”

“Felix, you don’t need to apologize,” the Hufflepuff soothed him and then her infamous grin spread across her face like a Cheshire cat. “The truth is, I’ve known for some time.”

“Wait…you were already aware of how I felt?”

“Boys are hardly subtle,” Elia laughed. “Even a Slytherin such as yourself. I’ve caught you staring more than a few times.”

“So, why not say anything?”

“Well for one, listening to Allison jabber on like that was kind of cute.”

Felix couldn’t prevent the pink from spreading across his face.

“She’s getting detention for the rest of the year,” he muttered.

Elia placed a soft, feminine hand over his cheek, turning it to face her. This caused him to go from pink all the way to beet red.

“Felix, don’t punish her. She wasn’t trying to embarrass you; it was actually quite sweet. Nothing she told me was anything I didn’t know already. But she put in a good word for you, saying how you were a great prefect and how you wanted to ask me out with a poem. She thinks the world of you.”

He crumpled the piece of paper in his robe pocket.

“She does, eh?”

“Yes. And I don’t need a poem and an elaborate ritual to be convinced to go out with you,” she teased. “I’ll gladly go to Hogsmeade with you next weekend. Meet me in the courtyard at two o’clock.”

And then, without warning, Elia kissed him on the cheek and winked at him as she walked back into the Great Hall to rejoin the other Hufflepuffs.

Touching the spot where he had received the kiss, Felix proceeded to shuffle back towards the Slytherin table in a bit of a daze, wondering if he had actually just scored a date with the girl of his dreams until a loud, familiar voice snapped him back to reality.

“Felix?”

The Slytherin prefect looked down and saw the little eleven year old girl staring up at him. Functionality returned to his brain, remembering that he had instructed Allison to remain in the Great Hall until he returned.

“You told me to stay here. What’s my punishment?”

Looking into the eyes of the precocious first year, Felix knew she had tried to play matchmaker on purpose and true to Slytherin form, used her own brand of cunning to do it. But more so than that, he also knew that Allison also genuinely tried to make him look good as well, appealing to Elia’s heart and sensibility. The newfound revelation that this first year not only tried to help but liked him was touching.

“You’re off the hook this time, Garrison. Enjoy your dinner.”

Allison mocked fake surprised, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her away.

“Wow! Thanks, Felix! You really are the best prefect ever.”

Giving him a big hug, she skipped away to her friend Rowan but before sitting down, she added, “Enjoy your snadger date! Snadger, snadger, snadger…”

Felix rolled his eyes but allowed a slight smile to cross his face.

He knew this would not be the first nor the last time Allison Garrison caused him trouble.

#hphm mc #hphmsecretsanta2019

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