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shion-yu · 3 months

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Wait for Tomorrow

My entry for the spot “Hospital” for @hurtcomfort-bingo. 2,271 words, TW for hospital, chronic illness, discussion about potential death of a parent. Ft. OCs Cliff (toyhouse) and Al (toyhouse), plus their respective partners Elliot and Theo.

The organ transplant unit reeks of hope and loss. There’s always someone who has just received something new and life changing, a very tangible second chance which is only thanks to someone else’s great sacrifice. There’s a little room that always has coffee and snacks, a room for meditating, a little gym, and a room that’s just for crying in. A huge window stretches across the entire end of the unit looking over the city providing sprawling views of the outside world: a world that people like Cliff needs to stay away from because it’s full of germs that could kill him.

Cliff’s thirty-one. He hoped he’d have more time to delay this, but he’d contracted aspergillosis at Christmas, right before Mia’s third birthday. Instead of celebrating his happy and healthy little girl on her special day, Cliff had been unconscious in the ICU, intubated. He’s only gotten to see her in person twice since waking up and it’s March now. Kids aren’t usually allowed on the unit because of the risk of infection. The doctor had let them break that rule twice, and Cliff knows he should be more grateful for it but he isn’t. He wants more, always more.

He misses his daughter more than he can stand. Elliot visits nearly every day and calls at least twice per day. He sends Cliff plenty of videos but it isn’t the same as being there. He watches Mia say new words only second hand through recordings and he’s not there to clap for her as soon as it happens. He’s not there to read to her and kiss her pudgy little cheeks goodnight. He wants to be there for everything, but instead he’s stuck here in this negative-pressure hallway. It’s a beautiful new unit, nicer and sunnier than any Cliff's ever been on before, and yet it feels like a prison.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels the couch he’s sitting on dip and Al silently hands him a tissue. Cliff mumbles a thank you and removes his oxygen to blow his nose, coughing into the tissue afterwards.

“Ugh. I hate crying,” he sniffles to Al. Al pats his back to try and comfort him, but doesn’t tell him it will all be okay. They’re both realistic enough to know that’s not always the case.

“Me too,” Al says. “Hate getting snot in my oxygen.” He smiles knowingly with a humor that only someone experiencing the same thing as Cliff could really muster. Cliff laughs wetly, dries his eyes and puts his nasal cannula back in. He clears his throat and tries to remind himself that things could always be worse.

Al is waiting for his second set of lungs while Cliff waits for his first. Al got new lungs fifteen years ago, he says, which was a pretty good run of it. They’re not doing so well anymore, but he tells Cliff that he believes the medications are so much better these days. Al never had any kids, but Cliff can see that Al’s wistful about that fact. He acts almost like a father figure to Cliff while they’re stuck on this ward together, although age wise he’d be more like Cliff’s older brother. Cliff thinks it’s funny - when he was nineteen he did a summer internship with Al’s partner, Theo, at Theo’s law firm. He vaguely remembers seeing pictures of Al back then and Theo mentioning his partner was on the transplant list, but it hadn’t really meant anything to him at the time. He’d just said sorry and never thought about it again. He hadn’t known back then how privileged he was to have that mean nothing to him.

Theo recognized him when he came to visit Al, shortly after Cliff had left the ICU and was moved to this floor. Cliff was being pushed down the hall by Elliot when they heard a voice say, “Cliff Barrows?!” It was then that they made the connection that the new patient Al had made friends with was the same person Theo had once been a mentor to. Cliff mostly remembers Theo as unabashedly gay, something he didn’t think was possible for a lawyer at that time. He looks the same now, Cliff thinks, just a bit older and his hair’s starting to go gray.

Theo asked Cliff if he ever became a lawyer. Cliff laughed and said, “No, I got sick and became a stay at home dad instead.”

Theo grinned at him the same way he had back when he was a teenager. “A dad!” He exclaimed. “Even better than a lawyer.”

Being a dad was better than being a lawyer, Cliff thought to himself. Being a lawyer was his dream and losing it had been incredibly painful at the time. Now, though, he can see it made way for other things in his life. He got back together with Elliot, they got married, and they had their beautiful daughter. Cliff wouldn’t have it any other way - except for the part where he’s stuck here, now. There’s no silver lining to this part, he thinks.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Al asks him gently. He has a way of saying this that makes it easy to confess everything, but also easy to say no if Cliff wanted to. He’s so calming and impartial. Cliff thinks he feels far better after his chats with Al than he ever did after therapy.

“Mia is going to pre-school in the fall. Elliot’s out visiting a few right now to see which one fits her. Both of us should be there, but it’s only him.” Cliff’s voice breaks sadly at the end of the sentence and he can’t say anything more.

Al nods. “That must be really hard,” he says gently. “I’m sorry you can’t be there too. I’m sure Elliot will make a great choice though.”

“Oh, definitely,” Cliff says. “I know that. But it’s not fair that he has to do it alone.”

“I understand,” Al says. He doesn’t have kids, but Cliff thinks he’s probably the closest person to actually understanding so he nods.

They stay there a bit longer just watching the sunset until they know they have to be back in their rooms at 7pm-8pm for shift change. Cliff doesn’t see the point, because every nurse on the unit already knows them and their details intimately, but nevertheless they insist on bedside report every twelve hours. Sometimes Cliff pretends he’s sleeping just so they’ll do it in the hallway so he doesn't have to hear all the depressing details one more time. He feels like nothing ever really happens, anyways. Sometimes he has good days, sometimes bad. He doesn’t feel the need to summarize further. Either way, he’s been here for months and won’t be going anywhere until they find him a pair of new lungs.

The idea that some poor stranger has to die for him to live bothers Cliff immensely, but since he’s had Mia he no longer questions if it’s the right thing to do. It’s not that he’s no longer morally confused, he is. But he’ll do anything to see his little girl grow up now, his role as a husband and a father the most important things to him in the world.

When Mia was born, that was the first time Cliff was actually happy to be in the hospital. She was so tiny, Cliff asked if something was wrong with her. No, they told him, she was perfect. He agreed. She was absolutely perfect.

Fatherhood suited Cliff far more than he had expected it would, considering his own parents had never been good examples. But as the stay-at-home parent and a perfectionist, Cliff naturally made it his job to do everything right. And in the process, he found he loved every moment with Mia, even the difficult ones. He kept her close to him and was always hyper vigilant about her wellbeing. He read many, many books. And every afternoon he’d tie up Rosie, their rescue dog, to the stroller and take a slow walk down the street. While their home was located in a nice neighborhood in Brooklyn, Cliff didn’t think New York City pollution was very good for either his own or his child’s lungs. However the socialization was important (for both of them) and more importantly, he wanted Mia to grow up to love people. He never wanted her to hide away from society like he had. And he never wanted her to doubt that her fathers didn’t love her and wanted to spend time with her.

He’s nursing a bad headache in bed when Elliot calls him to say goodnight. Cliff answers because he always answers Elliot no matter what. Back when they were younger Elliot barely left Cliff’s side when he had to spend long stretches in the hospital, but with their daughter it had to be different. She’s their priority, not Cliff, and they had promised to give her as normal of an upbringing as possible. Even with a chronically ill dad and famous papa. They had been doing a pretty good job of it, Cliff thinks. Sure she’d spent a lot of her early childhood in recording studios and doctors offices thanks to her dads, but she was happy and loved. That’s what mattered. It’s still what matters, but it’s so much harder when she doesn’t understand why one of them is suddenly nearly missing from their home, only available through video calls each night.

Elliot’s face pops onto the screen of Cliff’s phone. His black curly hair looks long and messy. He has dark circles under his eyes and Cliff’s heart aches knowing it’s his fault that he has to be a single parent right now. Still, his tone is cheerful and he smiles when Cliff answers. Mia is sitting in her chair at the dinner table behind him. “Hey babe,” he says. “It’s all dark, do you have the lights off?”

“Yeah, hang on,” Cliff says. He reaches over to turn on the lights even though they’re way too bright for his aching head. He squints at his family and puts on his reading glasses.

“Headache?” Elliot asks automatically. They’ve been married - been dealing with Cliff’s illness - for way too long for him not to know exactly what to expect. Cliff nods. “Aww, that sucks,” Elliot says. “Here, Mia will make you feel better.”

Elliot moves around so that Mia is in full view and can see Cliff on the camera. Her face is messy with grains of rice stuck to her cheeks. Cliff chuckles. “Hi baby girl. Dinner’s kind of late, isn’t it?”

“Daddy!” Mia squeals happily. “Rice and chicken and peas.” Cliff assumes that’s what was on the menu for tonight. It’s what looks like is stuck to her hands, anyways.

“I got home late,” Elliot explains, “Haven’t even showered yet. God bless Paula.” Their nanny, always willing to stay later than planned when she needed to. She was brilliant, but Cliff felt sad every time he remembered she was doing the job he was supposed to be doing.

“Lion!”

“Yes, Mia, good girl,” Elliot says, poking the lion on her bib that she was wearing. She laughs. God Cliff misses that laugh. It sounds entirely different in person - in person it’s like he can feel it with his whole body. “Cliff? Hello? Anything new?”

Cliff realizes he’s been zoning out for several seconds and shakes his head. “No. Nothing new. Same old boring hospital.”

“Boring’s not a bad thing,” Elliot reminds him. Yeah, Cliff thinks. He could be in a coma still, that’s true. But he’d rather be at home fostering Mia’s newfound love for lions this week. They talk for a few more minutes but Cliff’s head hurts a lot and Elliot can tell, even though Cliff doesn’t say anything. He and Mia blow kisses to Cliff through the screen. Cliff closes his eyes and pretends he can feel them hugging him.

Elliot moves to the living room for a moment to ask Cliff privately, “Are you okay?”

“I just really miss you guys,” Cliff said. He takes a shaky breath. He doesn’t want to cry again.

“I know,” Elliot says. “We really miss you too. But we never know what might happen tomorrow! Or the next day.”

Cliff nods. He’s not an optimist like Elliot is, but he listens to his husband. It’s the only way he can continue on here when there’s so much waiting for him at home. “I love you,” Cliff says. “Thank you for everything.”

Elliot’s brow furrows in concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Why are you thanking me?”

“No special reason,” Cliff says, forcing a tired smile. “I just want you to know it.”

“Okay,” Elliot says slowly, a bit puzzled. “Well... thanks.”

“Don’t thank me for thanking you. Then I have to double thank you.”

Elliot laughs. Cliff’s relieved he took that worried expression off Elliot’s face. He doesn’t want to make Elliot worry about him more just because Cliff’s missing home while Elliot is working so hard to hold everything in their family together. “Goodnight, Cliffy. Go to sleep. I love you and so does Mia. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you too.” Cliff hangs up and he thinks about tomorrow. Another day of phone calls and the hospital and being far away from his family. He doesn’t know how long he can keep doing this, but he has no other choice. He’s never been so determined to stay alive. Mia’s growing up with two dads, not one, he tells himself. So he’ll keep waiting, forever if he has to.

#shionwrites #hurtcomfortbingo #oc: cliff #oc: elliot #oc: albert #oc: theo #hurt comfort #angst #hospital setting #whump #male whump #chronic illness whump #hospital whump #medical whump

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takeeachdayonebookatatime · 11 months

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Why did you elbow me? 105

Achilles Castle part 10

Dr Crane: pov Everything looks good. I'm going over her medical records again just to make sure i'm not missing something, me and Lanie talk about what happens next in her recovery.

Martha: pov the police arrive at the door and ask us some questions, chief Brady who Richard and Katherine know is here. Alexis says the neighbors who are drunk teenagers are setting off fireworks which is illegal. On top of that aunt Lanie and Papa Jim had to take my stepmom to the ER because she was having a PTSD/ heart episode. When me and Dave went over to tell them this they were very rude to us. Chief Brady says he will talk to the kids and their parents, let them know this is wrong.

Nurse Suzanne: pov I'm checking on Kate to make sure she is comfortable, I take her off of the oxygen to see how she does. Lanie will be spending the night in Kate's room sleeping in the rocking chair. Her dad Jim is heading back to the house for the night Lanie suggested it.

Dave: pov Jim arrives back at the house saying they are keeping Katie overnight for observation so they can keep an eye on her heart during the night. It's getting late, all of us say goodnight and head to bed. Jim offers to help Castle into his pajamas.

Castle: pov Alexis gives me my pain pill then heads to bed, Lanie calls me so I can talk to Kate before bed. Me and Kate talk for a bit, Lanie updates me on the results of the scans and tests they performed at the hospital. It is now morning, I can hear mother in the kitchen starting the coffee.

Ryan: pov me and Esposito are mostly doing paperwork, Esposito was nice enough to stop for donuts on the way to work. They tasted amazing, let's hope we don't get a case. It's hard without Kate around.

Lanie: pov Kate slept pretty bad last night which is normal, Dr Crane says she did good last night oxygen and heart wise. Nurse Suzanne gives Kate her heart meds and changes out her pod. They would like to keep her on the monitor till at least lunch and if everything still looks good then she can be released. It's mentioned having Kate go on walks is good for her. Usually someone from physical therapy comes over but with Kate's medical history they are sending someone from cardiac rehabilitation instead to come by during the week, to help her keep in shape while she finishes her recovery.

Martha: pov Jim and Castle who is still in his pajamas are sitting outside with their coffee talking. Alexis is nice enough to help me with breakfast. Richard had ordered pre-made waffle batter. It Makes it so much easier for me. Alexis is cutting the fruit to put with the waffles. Dave is pouring apple juice into cups.

Jim: pov there is so much wildlife outside, i had no idea there was this much. It's kind of peaceful. Castle's phone is ringing, it's Lanie calling, I hear him say, did they say why. oh okay see you around lunch. He tells me they are keeping Katie for a little longer.

Kate: pov I hear Lanie on the phone say Hey Castle I just wanted to let you know they are keeping Kate until lunch. yes the cardiologist just wants to keep an eye on her a little longer, no nothing is wrong. Nurse Suzanne comes in the room with some cheerios for me to eat, once I'm done eating she comes back in with this strange looking thing. She says I have to breathe into it as hard as I can so that they can check my lung function because I have had a collapsed lung before in the past. Turns out I passed the lung test which is great. I'm supposed to be lazy today and not get up much since I might be fatigued from last night's episode.

Dave: pov Jim helps Castle to the dining room, the food is amazing Alexis gives him his pain pill she wants to take me sightseeing Mr Castle says it's fine. He Is probably going to write or take a nap his phone is ringing again he says it's chief Brady he says, no not until lunch, yeah they are keeping her a little longer.

Chief Brady: pov hey Castle is Kate home from the hospital because i want to come over with the teenagers from yesterday. He says it's fine but Kate is still at the hospital. They are keeping her until lunch. I tell him I will stop by after lunch. The parents are bringing the teenagers. Let's hope this shows them that actions have consequences.

Alexis: pov me and Dave are getting dressed so we can go sightseeing together, he has never been sightseeing in the Hamptons before. I put some water bottles and a few snacks in a bag just in case, we will leave after chief Brady does.

Lanie: pov Kate is free to go. She signs the release papers, Jim is picking us up. Nurse Suzanne wheels her out to the car, the ride back to the house is short. Back at the house Castle mentions chief Brady will be stopping by after lunch. While she gets dressed I make Kate some food, the rest of us are having tuna sandwiches with chips, pickles and sweet tea. All of us head outside to eat our lunch Martha hands Castle his pain pill.

Castle: pov Chief Brady, the teenagers and their parents should be here any minute. Mother puts the ingredients/supplies on the dining room table so I can make lemonade. Thankfully it's not too hot so we can sit outside when they arrive. My t-shirts said Kate Beckett is my hero, Lanie's shirt said, end gun violence, Jim is wearing a, in memory of Joanna Beckett shirt I got for him as a gift a few years ago. I'm glad he loves the shirt. Martha is wearing the shirt Kate got from wells-cornell trauma center. Kate put on her i survived a bullet to the heart shirt, If the kids see us in these shirts they might feel guilty. To be continued. …….

#castle #fanfiction #katebeckett #stanakatic #nathanfillion #richardcastle #lanieperish #tamalajones #jonhuertas #javieresposito #kevinryan #seamusdever #susansulluvan #martharodgers #alexiscastle #mollycquinn #jimbeckett #jennyryan

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kyovtani · 4 years

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𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 – 𝒊𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒛𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒆

࿏ pairing: iwaizumi hajime x chubby female reader ࿏ genre: fluff, smut, angst; best friends to lovers!AU ࿏ word count: 11.6k (at this point i have no explanation, im sorry) ࿏ warnings: swearing, mentions of body image issues, self doubts, anxiety, bullying, fat shaming; as well as violence and blood (iwa gets into a fight mwah); ddlg (daddy dom-little girl) dynamics, soft dom!iwa, body worship, praising, sugarcoated degradation, spitting, choking, fingering, face riding, unprotected sex

࿏ Summary: After four years of trying to get over your stupid crush on your best friend, said male finally comes back home and all of a sudden all of those plans are thrown overboard...

Even though you‘ve known about it for so long now, you still feel your heart skip a beat when Matsukawa mentions his return to Japan and no matter how hard you try to, you can‘t help the way the disgusting mixture of anxiety, nervousness and excitement starts filling your veins.

After all it‘s been literal years since you‘ve last seen him.

Iwaizumi Hajime, former Seijoh Ace, now freshly majored athletic trainer, your best friend of ten years and — love of your life.

However, of course he doesn‘t know about the latter and as pathetic as it may sound, you‘re quite proud of yourself for hiding your feelings for him so well that he hasn‘t suspected anything in all these years the two of you have been friends.

Of course it‘s painful and basically nothing but literal torture to watch the guy you‘ve lost your heart to years ago, move on with his life thinking he‘s nothing but a friend to you, but you know you‘d always choose this pain over the one of rejection and shame.

Because after all you‘re not his type or what he looks for in a partner and you're very much aware of it.

And no matter how many times you daydream about a life as his girlfriend, you won’t ever forget about the fact that Iwaizumi Hajime, basically a literal athlete, would never date someone who looked like you.

Growing up on the bigger side, physically wise, has always been difficult and something you're struggling with to this day. You had always hoped for those extra pounds to disappear once you hit puberty, just like it had happened to all of your friends but those hopes were quickly destroyed when you still found yourself hiding from full length mirrors to avoid having to look at your own body in your third year of High School.

By the time you turned eighteen, you had tried every kind of diet in hopes of losing weight but all of them just ended with you losing motivation and every bit of your happiness and even though you still struggle with it in your mid-twenties, you‘ve come to terms with it.

This is who you are and despite taking literal decades to realize it, you‘ve slowly but surely started accepting it.

However, when it comes to relationships, you‘ve given up completely.

After years and years of being rejected, hidden, fat shamed and disrespected by men who hated their own attraction to bigger women, you stopped wasting your time and energy on dating. If you wanted to hear someone shame you for being big, you could just go home to your family or back in your memory to remember all those mean things the skinny girls in your school had thrown at you.

Or you could just look in the mirror and let your brain do the job after eating literally anything.

Just thinking about a guy like Iwaizumi looking at you in that way has you chuckling coldly and every time you imagine confessing to him, it ends with a broken heart on your side because your brain loves to keep things realistic and never once have you considered the possibility of him liking you back.

It‘s not that Iwaizumi, or any of the Seijoh Volleyball boys, have treated you badly or even slightly differently in the three years you were their manager, but after having to deal with fat shaming your whole life, it has become quite difficult for you to believe that anyone found you attractive at all.

Especially people like the widely known Seijoh third years who also happen to – still – be your closest friends.

And unfortunately, as glad as you are that Iwaizumi remains rather oblivious to your year-long crush on him, the other boys, including the professional athlete to be, Oikawa Tōru who’s currently living his best life in Argentina are pretty much aware of your feelings for the trainer.

So, just as usual whenever the topic of Iwaizumi Hajime enters the conversation between the other two, you’re met with pitying stares from Takahiro and a lot of teasing coming from Issei. But at this point you’ve gotten quite used to it and don’t mind the brunette’s words, whereas you still find yourself growing absolutely annoyed at the way Makki stared at you.

“Stop staring at me like that, Hiro!”, you hiss and roll your eyes, the pity in his face so evident, if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s mocking you.

“Just confess to him already!”, the strawberryblonde hisses, running one of his pale hands through his locks before he takes a big sip from his beer.

“Yeah, sure!”, you spit back, your words dripping in sarcasm and annoyance as you try to avoid your chest from growing even heavier at the thought of your best friend coming back after all those years.

“He broke up with that blondie months ago”, Matsukawa begins, his naturally sleepy gaze roaming your face attentively, “and he’s coming back to Japan. Now you really have no excuse left, Y/N”, and just as usual his words hit the right spot and all you can do is let out a shaky sigh before the intensity of your insecurities breaks down onto you like a huge wave.

“I‘m not his type, Mattsun”, you hiss, the bitter taste of reality coating the muscle of your tongue in the worst way possible, “and I‘ve had enough males reject and– or fat shame me. If I have to add Hajime to that list as well, it’s going to break me.”

You feel the two males’ soft gazes on you, whereas you can‘t help but focus on the napkin in between your fingers in hopes of distracting yourself from all those dark thoughts by nervously pulling at it.

“Iwa‘s not like that, Y/N”, Makki replies, brows furrowed in irritation; something you've grown quite used to seeing whenever the topic of your body image issues occured.

“Has he ever dated a big girl before, hm?”, you reply and look at him with arched brows and your lips pressed into a thin line. At the lack of response from the two men in front of you, you just lean back and nod.

“That‘s the point”, you take another deep, shaky breath; the tears threatening to spill from your glossy eyes at the thought of your pretty faced best friend and only men in your heart, “nobody likes women who look like me in that certain way, my loves. Every guy I‘ve been and slept with wanted to hide me or the relationship we had because they didn‘t want to be seen with a big girl.”

Suddenly you‘re hit with the memory of all those times you went home after any kind of intercourse with a male who had brought your hopes up with sugarcoated lies. Only to receive a harsh reality check when they asked you to not tell anyone about it, knowing it‘s simply because of the fact you aren‘t part of society‘s beauty standards.

“Y/N, we-”, “I‘m not talking about you two”, you‘re quick to interrupt Hanamaki, giving him a soft smile, “I know you don‘t care about it and sometimes I find myself wishing I would have fallen for one of you instead of the professional trainer”, you let out an empty, coldhearted chuckle before you finish your glass of wine in one go.

“I would fuck you without hesitation”, Mattsun shrugs, his plump lips stretching into a playful smirk and the tiny hint of seriousness in his gaze has you rolling your eyes with a soft scoff.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Issei”, Makki hisses and gives his best friend the same reaction as you.

“What? I‘m being serious! You know this isn‘t the first time I‘m offering this to you, pretty one”, the brunette replies and this time you can‘t help but chuckle softly at his words, showing him your appreciation for his ability to make such heavy topics vanish from the surface so easily.

“Thank you, Issei but that guy I met on Tinder has been ghosting me for two weeks after we fucked and that‘s why I‘ve had enough dick for now”, and just when you let your gaze roam over the brunette‘s handsome face, you watch Hanamaki‘s face brighten up suddenly and furrow your brows in confusion.

“Hearing Y/N talk about dick is definitely not what I was expecting to come back to but it‘s surely a surprise!”

And upon hearing the familiar voice of your best friend, you understand the reason behind the change in Makki’s expression.

You watch the other two get up from their chairs, approaching the freshly majored trainer with the biggest smiles plastered on their faces whereas you try your best to stay as calm as possible.

However, the simple thought of Iwaizumi coming back had already stressed you out and having him stand behind you in all his glory made the tightness in your chest and the struggle to take proper breaths intensify just like that.

After what feels like an eternity you finally get yourself to stand up as well, turning around literally convinced you‘re ready to see him again after all these years only for it to be the exact opposite.

Your heart skips a whole beat at the sight of Iwaizumi and for a quick second you feel yourself getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen in your lungs.

“Hey”, he mumbles, his voice deep and raspy, something you‘re used to since the two of you have been talking regularly on the phone over the time yet hearing it in person again sends a jolt of hot arousal right into your core.

You nervously let your eyes roam his face; taking in the sight of his features, which have become even sharper during his absence. A soft sigh falls past your lips when you find the little scar right underneath his eyebrow which he had gotten back in middle school during one of his volleyball practices. The familiarity and feeling of security in the soft expression of his pretty, dark green eyes calms you down in an instant and by the time you feel your muscles ease up a bit, he‘s already approaching you with open arms.

Different than you’ve expected from yourself, you‘re quick to wrap your arms around his slim waist, taking him into your embrace with the intention of never letting him go again and at the feeling of his big hands on your body, you can‘t help but tear up a little.

You sniffle softly against the crook of his neck, Iwaizumi letting out a breathy chuckle at your sweet reaction as he caresses your back gently, subconsciously massaging your soft flesh to calm you down even more.

“Seems like someone missed me a lot more than she wanted to admit on the phone, hm?”, Iwa mumbles softly, placing the sweetest kiss on the top of your head as he holds you tight.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki let out a row of deep chuckles, partly laughing at your obvious reaction and partly because of their best friend‘s blatant oblivion.

“Shut up”, you reply with a sniff, taking in the light yet intense smell of his aftershave as well as the scent of detergent you had missed oh so much.

“Enough now, Y/N”, Mattsun huffs, “you can cuddle his stupid ass some other time, let‘s catch up with Mister America”, he adds and you know too well the tall brunette simply does it to stop you from falling even further into this dark hole you‘ve dug yourself; all those years ago.

Throughout the whole night, you stay rather quiet; listening to Iwaizumi‘s stories, more so to his voice but definitely his stories, too.

And every time he mentions some random girl he hooked up with or one of his ex girlfriends, you can literally feel the way he‘s avoiding your gaze; his eyes moving away from your face to focus on the guys as his voice turns a little less enthusiastic. You try your best not to read anything into it, knowing he‘s always been more hesitant towards you when it came to topics like this and in some way you find yourself appreciating it because it definitely helps to make the pain in your chest a little less heavy.

The atmosphere between the four of you remains calm; the familiarity something you‘ve always missed despite you and the other two boys spending just as much time together as you used to back in High School. Having Iwaizumi in your little circle again definitely has changed the air and it‘s in times like these you realize just how close you all actually are.

However, when Hanamaki and Matsukawa both stand up, cigarettes firmly placed between their plump lips, telling the two of you to give them a few minutes, you feel yourself slowly wandering into a state of anxiousness and slight panic.

It‘s not like you haven‘t talked to him alone during his stay in America, but the thought of having to look him in the eyes as you speak has always been something you‘ve struggled with.

Iwaizumi has this certain expression in his beautiful, dark green eyes, which makes it so much harder to not fall for him even more.

You don‘t know if it‘s the confidence and lack of insecurity or the mixture of softness and home which have the butterflies in your stomach go absolutely crazy.

Neither of you say anything for a good minute, your eyes glued to your phone screen which continuously lights up; Oikawa‘s name appearing several times.

You excuse yourself to give the professional athlete the responses he‘s waiting for, rolling your eyes at his way of telling you to shoot your shot at Iwa and “get that D”.

“Are you still talking to that one guy you told me about?”, Iwaizumi suddenly says, his eyes never once leaving yours and with a soft chuckle, you shake your head; enjoying the amount of protectiveness dripping from his words.

“We fucked and then he ghosted me”, you say casually, not realizing that it‘s not one of the other two boys you‘re talking to and with a soft gasp of embarrassment you try to mumble your way out of the situation.

“Iwa, I‘m-”, “Why the fuck would he even do that? Give me his fucking address so I can introduve his kneecaps to my baseball bat”, he‘s quick to interrupt you harshly, his tone filled with anger as his eyes gleam with wrath.

“It‘s okay”, you smile softly, placing your hand on his balled fists to calm him down again, “he told me not to tell anyone that we did it so his intentions have never been good. And on top of that – his dick game was so bad, I didn‘t even get to finish but had to take care of it myself, so it‘s definitely not worth the headache.”

You watch Iwaizumi‘s expression darken even further, his beautiful dark green eyes roaming your face with irritation oozing from his gaze and for a second you like to believe that there‘s even a hint of jealousy in between all those intense emotions but just as usual you find yourself shaking it off rather quickly.

“Why did he ask you not to tell anyone? What the fuck is even wrong with that guy?”, the brunette spits, downing the rest of his beer in one go.

You know why he‘s this angry and at this point you can’t even blame him anymore. Iwaizumi has never really understood why you put up with guys who treated you like absolute shit; continuously telling you how you deserved so much better and even though you wanted to agree, you simply couldn‘t. Because in your head, all those men who were ashamed of being with you yet still found their way to your door were exactly what was meant to be your life.

“Because being with a woman like me isn‘t anything he‘s proud of, Iwa”, you sigh, the words heavy and bitter on your tongue as you struggle to voice the hard reality.

“A woman like you?”, he replies and you see the genuine confusion on his handsome face, making his oblivion sweet almost.

“A big woman, Iwaizumi. Guys don‘t date big girls because we don‘t fit into society‘s beauty standards so being with us is something they‘re ashamed of because God forbid someone thinks they find us attractive“, you nervously play with the hem of your skirt, not having the courage to look into his face as those thing leave your lips, too embarrassed to meet his usually so welcoming and soft, but now wrath-filled gaze.

“That‘s bullshit”, Hajime is quick to spit back, hating the way you belittle yourself like that because of a random guy.

You smile, a soft scoff falling past your lips before you take a sip from the glass in front of you and even though you know you‘re going to regret those words, you still can‘t get yourself to stop from leaving you.

“Then why have you never dated a big girl, Haji?”, your voice is slightly shaky yet you remain the eye contact like a champion, never once averting your gaze from his handsome face even though the thrumming of your heart in your throat makes it so much more difficult to stay focused.

Iwaizumi seems taken aback; your words obviously hitting a place he wasn‘t expecting and that‘s when the feeling of guilt reaches its peak.

“I‘m not- It‘s not because I don‘t find them attractive I just- I uhm-”, the freshly majored professional trainer stumbles over his words like a two-year-old who just started learning how to speak and at the sight of a deep blush covering the apples of his cheeks as well as the tip of his nose and the whole of his neck, you let out a soft sigh.

“You don‘t have to explain yourself, Iwaizumi. I wasn‘t trying to accuse you of anything or offend you in any way, I promise. It’s just a topic I‘ve grown really tired of in the past few years”, you explain, making sure to choose your words carefully and when the tall male suddenly starts calming down again, you know you‘ve got him.

“Y/N, look-”, “Hey, Y/N the weak-dick-game guy is sitting at the bar with his ugly friends, just for your information”, Matsukawa‘s deep voice quickly cuts Iwaizumi off, his words sending shivers down your spine in the most disgusting way possible and with an almost painful roll of your eyes, you down the rest of your best friend‘s beer.

“Wait- What? Which one is it?”, Iwaizumi grunts, the calmness from a few seconds ago completely gone as you look at him with brows furrowed in slight irritation and annoyance.

“It doesn‘t matter, Iwa”, you say and wrap your fingers around his tattooed wrist, making him look into your eyes with another soft exhale, “he‘s not worth it. Just let it go.”

“Y/N, I said”, Iwaizumi is quick to place one of his big hands on your cheek, the dominance in his aura and the authority gleaming in his eyes has you gasping for air and just as usual you feel your panties growing wetter by the minute, “which one is it?”

His words don‘t leave room for protest; so strict and demanding, no matter how hard you try to think rationally, his naturally dominant persona has you submitting to him in a way no other guy has ever managed to.

“T-The one with the long, dark purple Hair”, you quickly reply, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth at the sight of Iwaizumi‘s anger and determination.

“Good girl”, he mumbles and pulls away, not even aware of the way his praise has your cunt throbbing like crazy and you absolutely hate him for it.

For a second you can‘t even get back to reality, the haze of arousal and longing for the tall male standing in front of you completely taking over your consciousness.

However, as soon as your brain registers Makki‘s panicked voice, you‘re quick to snap back and without missing another beat, you grab Iwaizumi‘s arm and look at him with pleading eyes.

“Please don‘t make a scene”, you whisper, knowing oh too well how much he loves to get himself in trouble because of his friends.

“He fucked then ghosted you all that while saying he doesn‘t want anyone to know he was with you because you're a big girl? That ugly fucker needs a fucking reality check because he can count himself hella fucking lucky to ever get a go with a woman as amazing and hot as you”, Iwaizumi hisses, his words filled with anger yet so, so sweet that without giving it another thought, you simply let go and try not to show him just how flustered he‘s gotten you.

“Are you guys about to kiss right now?”, Matsukawa suddenly says and with an almost audible roll of your eyes you lift your hand up, showing him your middle finger before you watch Iwaizumi‘s brows furrow even further with visible irritation.

“Then don‘t fight him”, you sigh, “please, Hajime, don‘t get yourself in trouble for a guy who‘s not worth it.”

“We‘ll see about it”, is all he says before he moves out of your tight grip, leaving you to stand at the table like that.

You feel your heart picking up its pace at the sight of the love of your life approaching your ex-hook up; several worst case scenarios popping up in your head within a few short seconds. And unfortunately every single one ends with Hajime throwing his fist into the guy‘s face because of his raging anger issues; something he‘s been trying to handle throughout his whole life.

“Makki, please do something”, you whimper and look at the strawberryblonde with glossy eyes; shivers running down your spine at the sudden sound of Hajime's deep voice cutting through the music of the bar.

“Not into you my fucking ass”, Takahiro hisses and follows Iwaizumi with quick steps, whereas Matsukawa remains next to you, watching the scene unfold with the fattest, shit eating grin on his face.

And while you‘re worried about Iwaizumi‘s well-being, said male can‘t even seem to think straight. The only thing he manages to focus on is the raging anger and hot wrath rushing through his veins at the thought of some random, small dicked guy treating you like dirt. With every step he takes, it seems to get worse and at some point the professional trainer is worried about his physical health because of the pace his heart is hammering against his rib cage with.

Iwaizumi has always struggled to understand why you put up with males who are literally unworthy of your presence yet every time he had asked, you simply shrugged and told him that this was how you were meant to be loved. Behind closed doors, hidden away from the world by people who literally worship the society‘s beauty standard.

And all of that when you‘ve had him right in front of you for all those years, ready to love and worship every bit of your body and soul.

Of course for you to let him love you he might have had to tell you about his feelings but as the years passed by, Iwaizumi slowly started to lose every bit of hope he had left. During his four year long absence you‘ve had your fair share of boyfriends and after the third one, the only choice he had left was to force himself to move on or else he would have lost his mind.

It‘s not like he never wanted to confess during High School but there was just something holding him back. The thought of losing you was heavy on his chest especially because Iwaizumi was very well aware you didn‘t feel the same. So for his own sake he chose not to tell you about his feelings for you; not even bearing the mental image of going through such rough times without you by his side.

He‘s already lost count of the amount of times he wanted to scream at you about how he would treat you just how you truly deserved to be treated and not like those douchebags who liked to use you for their own pleasure just to throw you away like a used tissue once they were done.

And after not being able to physically do anything for you because of the distance, he‘s finally got the chance to show you that no, those guys‘ behavior is not okay and yes, putting them back into their place is absolutely worth the headache.

“Hey”, the trainer hisses, coming to stand directly in front of the tall, purple haired guy, Rin Matsuoka, who‘s quick to harden his expression upon seeing the brunette.

“What can I help you with, big guy?”, Rin mumbles, placing his bottle of beer on the counter with his brows raised in curiosity.

Iwaizumi doesn‘t even waste another minute as he harshly grabs the collar of Rin‘sblack leather jacket, pulling him closer to himself. His friends rather quickly, yet Hanamaki and this time even Matsukawa are faster, coming to stand right next to each one of them with their arms firmly placed in front of their bodies to stop them from intervening.

“You‘re gonna listen to me and you‘re gonna listen good, did you fucking hear me?”, and just like a few minutes ago, Hajime‘s voice is cold and distant, not leaving room for discussion all while making sure to keep his tight grip.

The confusion and immense irritation is clearly visible on Rin‘s features; brows furrowed, jaw tensed and eyes gleaming with some kind of unnameable anger.

And the longer you watch the situation unfold, the heavier the anxiety in your system becomes and as you struggle to take proper breaths, you find yourself approaching your best friends; not wanting him to get his hands dirty on a guy like Matsuoka.

“What the-”, “Iwa please, he‘s not worth it..”, you say and wrap your fingers around his wrist, trying to find his gaze with desperate eyes only for him to gulp harshly and calmly tell you to take a step back.

“You?”, Rin spits, his dark eyes boring into your side as you try to ignore him; the amount of humiliation and shame washing over your body way too overwhelming to handle.

“Haji, let‘s just go, please”, you whisper, taking his face into your hands, his skin literally burning underneath your fingertips.

“No, Y/N, this stupid bastard has to understand that you can‘t just go and treat women like absolute dirt and get away with it”, Iwaizumi moves out of your soft touch, making Rin shift his attention back on you before the deep voice of one of his friends cuts through the tension.

“What the fuck is he talking about, Rin? Do you know her?”, the blonde says, his tone rather degrading when talking about you and at the way his eyes roam your body with a rather opposed expression show you exactly why that‘s the case.

“N-No, I don‘t!”, he‘s quick to defend himself, his eyes shifting to his friends with sheer panic filling the dark color and you feel your heart sink and the disgusting feeling of shame rushing through your veins.

“You‘re such a fucking piece of shit, Rin”, you hiss and swallow your tears; the taste bitter as the realization of being sometjing to be ashamed of hits you yet again.

“You definitely weren‘t acting like this when you fucked me”, you add and roll your eyes, taking a step back as the anger overcomes you and you basically give Iwaizumi a silent free pass to do whatever the hell he needs to, “or better said – when you tried to. It wasn‘t like I came with your weak dick game anyway so..”

“You fucked that fat bitch? Oh, yikes”, the other friend suddenly says, his words hitting you in the face like literal bricks and before you can even take your next breath or shift your eyes to the face the voice belongs to, the guy suddenly falls to the floor, holding his bloody nose.

You let out a shocked gasp, your eyes falling to Hanamaki who‘s busy shaking his hand, his knuckles already reddened and slightly bruised as he looks at you with a satisfied grin, “no one gets to call my best friend a bitch.”

“I was full on drunk and- do you really think I‘d fuck her sober?”, Rin tries to talk himself out of it and with a cold chuckle you throw your head back.

“How the fuck dare you talk to her like that”, is the last thing Iwaizumi spits before he throws his fist right into Rin‘s face with a deep grunt.

Another loud shriek escapes your lips and suddenly the anger and anxiety seem to leave your body and a huge wave of adrenaline hits you at the sight of your ex-hook up falling to the floor and Iwaizumi quickly moving with him.

For what feels like a whole hour but is probably nothing longer than a minute, you‘re literally frozen; your eyes the only moving part of your body as you watch your best friends break their knuckles on the jaws of literal strangers to them.

The following hour passes by in a blur. You can‘t really remember how or who separated them from those guys, or how you got yourself to call an uber and manage to get the four of you to your flat.

By the time the adrenaline stops making the blood rush in your ear, you‘re taking care of Matsukawa‘s wounds with shaky hands; the two others holding ice packs to their faces to ease the swelling of their bruises.

“Stop sighing so much”, Iwaizumi suddenly says, his dark eyes focusing the movements of your hands before he looks at you with a slightly softer expression, “we did what we had to do. And I‘m glad we did it. Those guys already looked so fucking punchable”, he explains and with a scolding scoff you press your lips to a thin line.

“You‘re back in Japan for how long? Two days? Yet already got yourself in trouble, a physical fight at that, Hajime. You‘re not your High School self anymore, start behaving that way, please”, you reply and hand Mattsun a plastic bag filled with ice cubes, softly caressing his bruised cheek before you stand up from your place on the floor.

“You got yourself one hell of a mouth while I was gone, huh?”, he replies cockily, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue before he follows you into the bathroom.

You feel your body heating up at his words, the sexual tension laying underneath the surface slowly finding its way to you again and with a soft sigh, you ignore the brunette.

“How was I supposed to let him say all those things to you and not do anything, Y/N?”, Iwaizumi replies, a pouty word of gratitude leaving his lips when you take his big hand into yours and start cleaning up the blood on his bruised knuckles.

You try your best to stop your thoughts from wandering to sinful places yet images of those pretty, tattooed fingers wrapped around your throat and knuckle deep buried inside of your cunt have already filled your mind by the time you lower your gaze from his face.

“I‘m used to-”, “That does not make it okay, Y/N”, your best friend suddenly says, taking your chin in between his fingers to lift your head and look at you with those beautiful, dark green eyes.

“You deserve so, so much better and I‘m glad I can finally tell you this in person after all those years. Please stop letting douches like him take advantage of you”, he sighs, taking your hands into his and pulling you a little bit closer to himself.

“It‘s that or Matsukawa‘s cock and I‘d rather have a stranger emotionally pain me than my best friend, so-”, “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”, Iwaizumi interrupts you harshly, your words obviously irritating him.

“After my last boyfriend dumped me a year ago I‘ve only had casual flings because I got tired of using my hand to get off and Matsukawa offered to take care of it instead. But then again, it‘s just a lot less complicated with a stranger than it is with your best friend, that‘s why I‘m putting up with shit like this”, you explain to him and walk back into the living room where Mattsun and Makki are currently busy with your leftover take out from the previous night.

“So if it wasn‘t for that, you‘d let him fuck you?”, Iwaizumi‘s tone has turned cold again, the softness gone and replaced by something a little thicker and more intense than anger. And when you turn around to look at him, you see literal jealousy gleaming in the green color surrounding his iris, basically leaving you speechless.

“Why do you even care, Iwa?”, you reply, dramatically throwing your hands into the air as his tensed demeanor sends you in some kind of haze of irritation.

“Answer my fucking question, Y/N”, is all you get in response; the brunette closing the distance between the two of you with a few small steps and it‘s the lack of space between your faces that has you realizing just how unevenly he‘s breathing.

Your heart starts slamming against your rib cage with rather brutal pace, your head spinning from the sudden adrenaline shooting through your body and on top of all of it you feel your cunt clenching around nothing like crazy as Iwaizumi’s heavy scent fills your nose.

“Yes”, you say and feel your voice breaking, “yes, I would fuck Matsukawa because why not? Hm, Iwaizumi? There‘s nothing else stopping me from it other than-”, “You can‘t and won‘t fuck him”, he suddenly interrupts your outburst, his expression as dark as ever as he softly pushes you against wall.

“I think this is the moment where we‘re supposed to leave”, Makki mumbles, pulling Mattsun from the couch before they gather their things and leave the two of you to yourself.

As the silence surrounds the two of you, the tension grows even thicker, heavier, more present than before and with every breath you take you feel yourself growing more and more aroused.

“And why is that, hm? I can and will fuck whoever I want”, you spit back, trying so hard ot not let the arousal get to your head yet the disgusting urge to submit to Iwaizumi‘s naturally dominant personality slowly starts overwhelming you.

Hajime chuckles deeply, his eyes lazily roaming your face, pressing his strong body even further against yours as your head starts spinning more and more with every second passing by.

“Iwa…”, you whimper softly, throwing your head back and harshly digging gripping the soft fabric of his shirt; the close contact makes you a lot more nervous than before.

He slowly takes a deep breath before he bends down to let his nose graze your jawline, and eventually letting his mouth find its way to your ear.

“Because no one can fuck you like I can, pretty one”, Iwaizumi whispers, his voice a whole octave deeper than just a few seconds before and you hate the way every single one of his words sends a single, hot jolt of arousal right into your core.

“And”, you hear him inhale sharply, his hands finding their way to your hips, groping the soft flesh firmly in his palms before he takes a short break and then pulls away to look at you again, “no one can love you like I can.”

At the sound of those words, your eyes snap open within a second your heart skips a literal beat.

“W-What?”, you whisper, your throat completely dried up, your head desperately trying to process what he’s just said and just as your body is about to fall into some kind of haze, you feel yourself drowning in a wave of anxiety at the thought of having misheard him.

“I love you, Y/N”, Iwaizumi says just when those thoughts are about to take over you.

“Ha-Hajime…”, you mumble; your bottom lip starts to quiver as tears pricker at the corners of your eyes, the first few finding their way down your cheek in an instant.

A few seconds of silence pass in which you two just look at each other, Iwaizumi’s pupils blown out, cheeks tinted in the deepest shade of red and plump lips parted as he also tries to understand what just happened.

After all these years of imagining what it might be like to hear these kind of words from the love of your life, it’s finally become reality and the longer you look at him, the lighter the weight on your chest becomes.

“I’m sorry if I ruined our friendship with this but I just – couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. When I was in America I had promised myself to confess as soon as possible when I’m back so here I am. Those men don’t deserve you. Neither do I but I would have hated myself forever if I didn’t at least try. So”, he finishes his sudden explanation with another deep exhale before he takes a step back, his glossy eyes wandering from yours down to the floor, “thank you for everything and please take care.”

And fortunately your body acts a lot faster than your mind because while you still try to process his soft, sweet words – the words you’ve been dying to hear for so, so long – you find yourself tightening your grip on his shirt and pulling him back into you with a soft sob.

“I love you, too”, you whisper against his lips, pressing your forehead against his as your eyes flutter shut at the overwhelming warmth coming from his body.

“Fuck, baby”, Iwaizumi chuckles breathlessly, wrapping his arms around your body and burying his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m one lucky bastard, aren’t I?”

You smile brightly at his genuine and soft words, the feeling of coming home – a place you’ve longed for literal years – slowly breaks down onto you in the form of waves and for the first time in a really long time, you don’t mind being overwhelmed like that.

“So that means that you’re mine now?”, Iwaizumi whispers, pulling away and taking your face into his big hands, the smell of blood grazing your nose yet easily gets overshadowed by the way he’s looking at you as if you were holding the whole world in your hands.

You nod and move further into his touch, enjoying the feeling of being so safe and secure in one’s hands after not even feeling comfortable with anyone in years.

“T-Thank you for loving me, Iwa”, you gulp harshly, looking at him with teary eyes at the memory of all those who had managed to break your heart in the past years.

“No, baby”, he sighs, pressing the softest kiss right onto your lips, “thank you for letting me love you. When I say you’re literally everything I’ve ever dreamed of, I’m not even exaggerating because that’s what you are to me. A dream come true”, those are the last words Hajime mumbles before he pulls you into a proper kiss; not giving you the opportunity to reply.

The kiss starts off slow and calm. As if both of you were still trying to understand that this was actually happening because despite the hesitant movements, neither of you can hide the intense hunger lingering underneath every soft peck.

Iwaizumi, just as usual, lacks the patience to keep it going like that, not even trying to take it easier for even longer as he pulls your chin down and calmly pushes his tongue into your mouth, easily eliciting a soft moan from you. Your fingers find home in his brown curls, pulling at the thick strands and finally making him grunt right against your tongue; the deep sound sending vibrations and sweet little jolts of excitement through your whole body.

You slowly feel his hands wander; first starting off caressing your back, groping the soft flesh of your waist as well as the fingers of his right hand softly digging into your skin and for a second. You allow yourself to fall deeper and deeper into the perfect feeling of his touch until suddenly a mental image of his most recent ex-girlfriend pops up in your head and you stop functioning completely.

Iwaizumi lets his lips wander down your chin, placing a row of open mouthed kisses on your jaw before he moves to your neck and pulls the sensitive skin into his mouth without wasting another minute. The feeling of his hot tongue on your skin has your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you desperately try to distract yourself from your anxiety‘s attempt to ruin this for you.

You let out a soft whimper when Hajime wraps one of his big hands around one of your tits, harshly groping the flesh while rubbing his hard, clothed cock against your thick thigh.

His deep grunts and needy touches have you ruining your panties in no time to the point where the lacey fabric is literally sticking to your hot flesh in a rather uncomfortable way.

“Need you, baby”, Iwaizumi grunts, the movements of his hips rather sloppy and rushed yet so, so genuine and sweet, you can‘t help but smile softly.

“You got me, Haji”, you reply and take his handsome face into your hands, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs, “I‘m all yours.”

“Fuck, baby”, he moans and suddenly pulls away, his hands finding their way to the hem of your dress before he meets your eyes and wordlessly asks for your consent.

You give him a quick nod, pushing the voice of your anxiety all the way to the back of your head as Hajime slowly pushes the fabric up your thighs, revealing more and more skin before his eyes roll into the back of his eyes at the sight of your black lace panties.

He doesn‘t waste much time; quickly pulling the rest of it over your head and then taking a whole step back to let his greedy eyes roam your body with lust and nothing but adoration.

And when you realize your current, exposed state you take a deep breath to hold those insecurities back, however they‘re a lot faster than you are.

You nervously try to cover your naked body with your arms. Just the thought of him finding you and your body disgusting breaks your heart into pieces and with shivers of shame rushing down your spine, you lower your gaze.

“L-Look, I know it‘s not what you‘re used to and I- you don‘t have to touch me. I can just suck your cock or give you a handjob if you feel more comfortable that way”, you say, your voice a mere whisper and eventually breaking at the end when you give in to the tears.

“Baby…”, Iwaizumi sighs, pain evident in the tone of his voice. He calmly takes your wrists into his big hands before he pulls your arms away from your body, softly asking you to look at him and after what feels like an eternity, you manage to lift your head only to be met with nothing but warm, dark green eyes.

“You‘re fucking perfect”, he whispers and places a tiny little kiss on your lips, leaving you longing for more as he pulls away right afterwards, “there‘s literally nothing I would change about you.”

At the sound of those sweet words, you simply cannot hold back your tears any longer. You look at Iwaizumi with a quivering bottom lip as you let out a row of soft sobs; digging your nails into the skin of his wrists because you simply don‘t know what else to do.

For the first time in your life, your brain isn‘t protesting against a compliment and you know if it wasn‘t for him, there would be no way you‘d believe it.

“B-But your ex-girlfriends are the exact opposite and-”, “They don‘t matter, baby. You‘re you and it‘s all I could have asked for. I‘m in love with every part of your body and that has never been any different”, Iwaizumi interrupts you with his calm voice, placing his hands on your waist before one of them finds its way to your barely clothed ass.

“But-”, “No more buts”, the brunette says, a lot sterner and more determined, groping the flesh of your ass and then landing a firm spank on the soft flesh which has you whimpering into the crook of his neck.

Iwaizumi chuckles and pulls you into another deep kiss, sucking at your tongue, nibbling on your bottom lip all while his hands make sure to graze every bit of naked skin they can find. He pushes his leg in between your thighs, pressing it right against your cunt and without even wasting another second you find yourself grinding against the strong muscle. The fabric of his jeans rubs your throbbing clit in the best way possible, eliciting a row of needy whimpers from you.

You feel yourself soaking through the fabric of our lace panties and you know you‘re currently leaving a huge stain on Iwaizumi‘s pants but the pleasure clouding your mind makes it so easy to just ignore it.

“What a needy girl you are, baby”, Hajime mumbles, caressing the slightly dampened skin of cheeks with his thumb before he moves to graze your bottom lip and eventually pushes the digit into your open mouth.

Your lids fly open at the taste of his skin on your tongue, twirling the muscle around his thumb and then sucking on it softly, followed by some muffled moans of his name.

Iwaizumi watches you attentively for what feels like an eternity. His beautiful eyes wandering from the way you‘re rubbing your clunt against his clothed thigh to your perky nipples and then up to the way your lips look wrapped around his thumb like that and from the way his expression keeps growing darker and even hungrier, you know he‘s more than just enjoying your despair.

“I want to spit in your mouth”, he says, using the dominant tone you‘re oh so used to at this point and there‘s no way you‘d ever say no to him.

Something about being claimed in such a lewd way by the man you‘ve been dreaming of for years has you grinding your pussy into his thigh even harder; making sure to hit your clit with every rushed drag of your hips.

“Yes, p-please, Daddy”, you beg, not even overthinking any of your words as you part your lips and look at him with big, needy eyes.

When you notice the rather shocked and slightly overwhelmed expression on Iwaizumi‘s face, you gulp harshly, tilting your head to the side with your lips pushed into a concerned pout.

“What‘s wrong, Iwa?”, you whisper, way too scared of his response.

“You called me Daddy”, he replies and licks his plump lips, whereas you freeze completely at his comment.

“D-Did I? I‘m so sorry, Iwa”, the apology falls past your lips almost instantly at the realization because you know that not every guy is comfortable with such dynamic and even if Hajime definitely has a natural dominance to his personality, you should have waited a little longer before bringing this particular kink up.

“None of my boyfriends liked it and I don‘t like using it with completely strangers so I g-guess I just feel really safe with you and it slipped and I- oh, God, I‘m so sorry.”

You pull away from Iwaizumi with shaky hands, tears threatening to spill for the nth time within such a short period and you try your best to look everywhere but his eyes.

However, Iwaizumis seems to have other plans.

He takes your chin into his hand and pulls your face closer, nudges your nose with his own and then sucks your bottom lip into his mouth; making you whimper rather loudly.

“Say it again, baby”, he whispers, “tell Daddy how badly you want his spit.”

As his words echo inside of your brain, you let out a loud, high pitched whine, harshly trying to press your thigh further together ss the throbbing of your cunt becomes unbearable.

“Please, Daddy”, you reply, pushing his hand down to your neck and smiling softly when he wraps his pretty fingers around your throat, feeding right into every single fantasy you‘ve been imagining for so long, “spit in my mouth and on my cunt, I don‘t care. I just need it.”

“Good girl”, Iwa growls softly, “open up then, pretty one.”

You part your lips almost automatically at the sound of his demand, sticking your tongue out slightly and looking up at him with anticipation and such eagerness, if it wasn‘t for him, you would have never been as comfortable as this.

Iwaizumi smirks at you, keeping his grip on your throat firm but not too tight as he gathers his own saliva and spits into your mouth with a loud, lewd sound that sends shivers of pleasure straight down your spine and right into your core.

You can‘t stop your lips from stretching into a big smile when his taste coats the muscle of your tongue, swallowing it all in one go before you open your mouth yet again to show him it‘s all gone.

“Good fucking girl”, Iwaizumi praises you softly, caressing your cheek before he lets fo of your throat, “I got myself a perfect little doll, hm?”

“Thank you, Daddy”, you reply quickly, the intense urge to obey to his every word and submit to his every move absolutely overwhelming at this point, but you would never want it any other way.

“Look at you, using your manners for me. You‘re welcome, princess. What about a little reward for being so good for me, baby? Wanna sit on my face so I can eat that pretty pussy of yours?”, Iwaizumi takes you hand into his, intertwining his fingers with yours before he guides you to the couch, letting himself fall into the soft cushion whereas you try your best not to panic at his words.

Of course the thought of having his mouth on your cunt is more than just tempting but you've never sat on a guy‘s face before; the fear of literally suffocating him with your weight making it impossible for you to even think about it.

“C-Can‘t you just eat me out like this, Daddy?”, you whisper, looking down to meet Iwa‘s hungry gaze and stopping him from pulling your panties any further down your thighs.

“I‘m too heavy”, the explanation follows right away, not wanting him to think it has anything to do with him or his wishes, “I don‘t want to hurt you.”

“Baby, I want you to sit on my face so I can eat your pretty pussy. That‘s it”, Iwaizumi says, his right hand finding the clasp of your bra and quickly getting rid of it before he takes both of your tits into his big hands; toying with your nipples and attentively watching the way your gasps grow louder with every pull on the perky buds, “you don‘t have to if you don‘t want to but don‘t you dare worry about me because this has been a dream of mine for literal years. Oh, how badly I want to be squished by those pretty, thick thighs of yours – you have no idea.”

“I want to! It’s just that I’ve never done this before. A-Are you sure? Please don‘t think you have to want this to make me feel better, I‘m okay with whatever you‘re comfortable with”, you whisper, not trusting your voice when you suddenly feel Iwaizumi‘s fingers tracing patterns on the inside of your thighs.

“Enough of this, pretty one”, his words are accompanied by a firm spank on your naked ass cheek; the pain of the sting leaving your pussy a spasming mess and with a soft moan you tighten your grip in his hair, “now sit on my face or I won’t fuck you.”

“N-No! Daddy, I‘m sorry, I promise I‘ll be good”, you whine quickly letting go of him so he can lay on his back only for Iwaizumi to get rid of his black shirt; revealing his strong, well trained body and all those dark lines adorning his tanned skin to your hungry eyes.

It takes you a few good seconds to gain enough confidence to actually spread your legs over his face, your whole body shaking with nervousness. But once Iwaizumi wraps his strong arms around your thighs and pulls your body even further down to his face, you slowly start easing up.

The feeling of his hot breath fanning against the wet flesh of your cunt sends goosebumps down your back. And the sight of his pretty face between your thick thighs, something you‘ve always been so insecure about, seems to slowly take a place as one of your favorite images to ever exist.

“Look me in the eyes, baby”, Iwaizumi mumbles and sucks at the skin of your inner thigh, his tongue on your skin making more and more juices gush out of your already drenched cunt as you allow yourself to meet his hungry gaze.

And just when your eyes meet, Iwaizumi sticks his tongue out and licks a long stripe over the hor flesh of your pussy before he gently pulls your little clit into his mouth and starts sucking on it.

You let out a loud groan; the sudden stimulation on your needy clit sending literal shock waves of pleasure through your body and without even realizing you slowly grind yourself further against his mouth.

Iwaizumi moans into your flesh, the deep bass of his voice sending vibrations right into your core, making your cunt clench even harder around nothing and if it wasn‘t for the intensity of his stare, you would have looked away already. Yet just as usual, there‘s something about the way he looks at you which has you feeling at literal ease – even in such a situation.

“Come on, baby”, Iwaizumi suddenly grunts, letting go of the sensitive bud with a loud sound before placing an open mouthed kiss on your clit and landing a harsh spank on your ash which has your body jolting in antica, “don’t be shy now. Ride my face like the good girl you are, make me proud…”, he adds softly, his words encouraging you easily and with a sound of affirmation, you start grinding your hips to meet the hot muscle of his tongue.

The following minutes are filled with loud slurping noises, high pitched moans and deep grunts as well as more words of affirmation and encouragement all while Iwaizumi continues to switch between thrusting his tongue into your tight hole and sucking on your clit before he eventually starts fingerfucking you with two of his thick digits.

You can't help but throw your head back at the immense amount of pleasure; your body and mind slowly reaching a point of complete haze as you lose yourself in the feeling of his touch.

And by the time you finally feel the taste of your high coating the tip of your tongue, your grip on Iwaizumi‘s hair tightens and a row of loud, choked out begs fall past your bit swollen lips.

“Look at your greedy little pussy clenching around my fingers like that”, Iwa chuckles deeply, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he keeps his mouth way too close to your throbbing little clit, “and those pretty begs. Gosh, baby, you‘re going to drive me insane.”

“S-So close, Daddy”, you choke out, your eyes flying open when you feel a third finger joining the two inside of your tight cunt, the pain of the stretch in combination with the pleasure of your upcoming high making your head spin.

“There we go, that‘s my baby”, he takes a deep breath and starts kneading the soft flesh of your ass in his palms, “want you to cum all over my fucking face. Show me what a good fucking girl you are.”

And those are the last words your brain manages to register before you feel the first wave of your orgasm hit you. Your sight turns pitch black and then white for a good second, your whole body tensing up at the feeling of coil in your core finally snapping.

Your thighs are shaking, your breath continuously hitching as you desperately try to regain your composure and if it wasn‘t for Iwaizumi‘s touch on your sensitive pussy, you‘d stay in the beautiful haze of your orgasm.

“You came so hard for me, baby”, Iwaizumi grins and pushes his fingers into his mouth before you finally find enough energy to get off of his face.

“W-Want more”, you whisper, your voice raspy and breathy as you tell him your request; low-key scared of being too greedy yet at the sight of Iwaizumi‘s eyes sparkling with excitement, you know he‘s not one to deny you anything. He‘s never been, after all.

“How about we move this to your bedroom, baby? I‘ve been dying to press your face into the mattress and ruin that little pussy of yours.” You feel a jolt of excitement blooming inside your chest at his words, nodding eagerly before you reach for his hand and guide him down the hall to your bedroom.

“Do you want me to suck you off?”, you say when the two of you come to stand in your room, your eyes focusing on the huge bulge in his pants, which manages to scare you slightly with its impressive size.

You always knew your best friend wasn‘t on the smaller side when it came to size yet you still can‘t hide just how surprised you are by its actual size. And suddenly the three fingers make a lot more sense to you.

“Let‘s save that for another time, pretty one. I‘ve been dreaming about pumping your cute little hole full of my cum for way too long. I can‘t wait any longer”, Iwaizumi replies and finally starts unbuckling his belt.

You take the few seconds he‘s busy to let your eyes admire the beauty of his perfectly sculpted body. You follow the dark lines of his chest tattoo, take in the sight of his stone hard abs and veiny arms as you press your thighs even more together to ease some of the pressure on your cunt.

“Are you done eyefucking me, pretty one?”, Iwaizumi suddenly chuckles, casually pushing his jeans as well as his boxer briefs down his meaty thighs and exposing his hard cock for your hungry eyes to devour.

He wraps his pretty fingers around his throbbing length, the tip an angry shade of red as precum continues to leak out; making your mouth water at the mere thought of having him in your mouth.

“Everything about you is so pretty”, you sigh and look into his eyes, the genuine appreciation in the green surrounding his iris making your heart grow warmer before he comes to stand in front of you in all of his glory.

“I love you so much”, Iwaizumi replies calmly, taking your face into his big hands before he places the softest kiss on your forehead.

“I love you, too”, you mumble and get up, pressing your lips against his and sighing into his mouth when he pushes his tongue past your lips without missing a beat.

Just when Iwaizumi starts letting his hands wander over your naked body, he halts his movements and pulls away slightly, “my pretty little baby, make sure to face the mirror so you can watch while I fuck your brains out. I want you to see just how perfect you are.”

“Yes, Daddy”, you whisper, your lips stretched into a big, big smile as you move out of his strong grip to position yours on your knees just as you were told.

Your heart suddenly starts racing again when you bury your face in your arms, making sure to push your ass as high as possible to give Iwaizumi easy access to your glistening cut. The excitement in combination with the pleasure and deep, deep longing finally manage to take over your brain; shoving the anxiety alongside all those insecurities to the very back of your head and making it easy for you to put your whole focus on the tll male behind you.

Iwaizumi’s rough hands caress your bare ass softly, kneading the flesh and lightly spanking it a few times before he lets a thick drop of his spit fall right onto your clenching pussy; sending goosebumps down your back at the feeling of it sliding down your flesh and mixing with your leaking juices.

You feel the tip of his thick cock nudging your entrance, the memory of his size making you tense up subconsciously and just when you’re about to hold your breath, Iwaizumi’s deep, calming voice echoes through the silence of your room.

“Take a deep breath, baby”, he whispers, knowing you’re going to follow his orders just like the good girl you love to be, “Daddy’s got you, okay? I’m gonna go easy, I promise.”

You lift your head to meet his comforting gaze through the mirror in front of you and without another beat passing, you feel yourself calming down again; the feeling of being absolutely safe and secure in his hand making it the easiest task.

And when Iwaizumi feels the tension in your body easing up, he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes his thick tip into your tight hole. You whimper at the delicious stretch, the pain easily overshadowed by the sound of Iwaizumi’s heavy breathing and little moans.

“I’m gonna go all in, baby or else it’s going to hurt a lot more”, you appreciate his warning because as he’s saying it, Iwaizumi thrusts the whole of his impressive length into your spasming cunt; pushing every bit of air out of your lungs and pushing you way too close to your second high of the night. You can’t help but whimper loudly, tears already streaming down your cheeks because of the beautiful feeling of pain and pleasure mixing inside of your veins from the intensity of the stretch.

Iwaizumi, as always the gentleman, gives you all the time you need to adjust to his size; only growing slightly impatient as you still whine softly after two whole minutes yet you’re quick to lift your head again with quivering bottom lip and teary eyes, begging him to just fuck you.

“Please, Daddy”, you sob, moving away from him in a desperate attempt for some kind of friction; your cunt spasming around his thick cock like crazy and you know you’re only a few thrust and some clit stimulation away from your next high, “please, fuck me.”

“My greedy little whore”, Iwaizumi grunts, pulling his cock out of you astonishingly slow with the sole purpose of teasing you, “you’re going to take what Daddy gives you, did you hear me?”

You moan as the feeling of his tip dragging alongside your spongy walls, your eyes rolling into the back of your head only to find your way back to reality with a couple of harsh spanks on your already sore ass.

“Good sluts answer when being talked to, pretty one”, he warns, thrusting his cock back into you with one quick snap of his hips; burying himself balls deep inside of your overly sensitive cunt.

“Yes, Daddy, yes”, you cry and look up at him with glossy eyes, “just please, fuck my stupid little cunt, please.” Iwaizumi lets out a row of deep chuckles followed by raspy groans in response to your perfect answer before he nods at you and mumbles a few soft praises right into your ear and then straightens himself again.

“Alright then, pretty one.”

Loud grunts fill your ears so beautifully, echoing through the thick air of your bedroom and in combination with the sound of skin meeting skin in a constant rhythm, you feel the exact way your body is slowly falling into the beautiful bliss of another high.

Iwaizumi fucks you fast, harsh and rough. There’s nothing soft and romantic about the way his hips are meeting yours in a steady rhythm; making sure to hit that sweet spot deep inside of your pussy with every single one of his thrusts as he continues to use his whole strength on your burning ass.

But not once do you even think about telling him to go easier on you; this iwaizumi the one you’ve been imagining for all those years.

It doesn’t take long for him to wrap his strong arm around your chest to pull you up, his fingers also finding their way back home around your delicate throat.

“Look at you, baby”, he groans right into your ear, making you open your eyes and meet your own reflection in the mirror, “you’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t comprehend it.”

You stare at yourself with your lips parted in awe, eyes falling to the sight of Iwaizumi’s thick cock stretching your tiny cunt before you go back to trying to recognize yourself.

Because for the first time in literal years, you don’t hate what you see and even if it’s because of IWaizumi’s strong body right behind you, you still feel this certain type of warmth blossoming in your chest.

"Feels so good, baby", he groans, throwing his head back as the movements of his hips start to become slightly sloppier, a little more uncontrolled, "so tight and warm, so fucking perfect", Hajime’s voice breaks at the end of his soft praise because of your walls clenching around his cock even more the closer you get to the edge.

You start feeling dizzy, your sight turning into a blurr and at some point you can’t even in- or exhale without letting out a shaky moan.

Iwaizumi looks at you with wide, hungry eyes, the feeling of your walls gripping his cock like a goddamn vice sending him into an ecstatic state and the longer he watches you getting lost in the pleasure, the more he struggles to keep his rhythm.

You’re mumbling incoherent sentences, desperately trying to tell the brunette about how close you are whereas the pleasure makes it absolutely impossible for you to form a proper sentence.

“Are you going to cum for me again, baby?”, Iwaizumi grunts, tightening his grip on your throat, making you gasp for air as you nod in response to his question.

“My perfect little slut”, he sighs, his hand reaching down to rub your hard, throbbing clit with two of his rough digits, “fucking do it. Cum for your Daddy like the good whore you are.”

And just like a few minutes prior, those words are the last straw and eventually make you stumble over the edge head first. Your walls start spasming around Iwa’s cock like crazy, your loud moans and soft cries are the only thing he can focus on and without missing another minute, Iwaizumi also lets himself get consumed by the beautiful feeling of relief.

Iwa hips still, his cock buried deeply inside of your tight sex as he coats your walls with his creamy cum. Your new boyfriend gets lost in the feeling of finally getting to cum inside of you after waiting for so many years; feeding the fantasy of getting to claim you in the most intimate way possible. He buries his face in the sweaty crook of your neck, his rapid breath fanning your skin as the two of you try to calm down from your intense highs. Your hand finds its way into his dark hair, massaging his scalp with your eyes closed and your legs still shaking from the aftermath of your breathtaking orgasm. Without pulling out of you, despite his own release leaking out of you and down the sides of his cock, Iwaizumi makes you lay down with him; just tightly holding you in his arms.

A few minutes filled with nothing but soft breathing pass by before you finally find the strength to move again; the sudden need to look at Iwaizumi’s completely fucked out face overwhelming you in the best way possible. And when you turn around to look at him, you’re met with a breathtaking sight.

Messy strands of sweaty hair falling into his flushed face, swollen lips and glossy eyes sparkling at you in a way you’ve never seen before and in that moment you feel yourself falling in love with Iwaizumi all over again.

“I’m so in love with you”, you whisper and caress the soft skin of his cheeks, loving the way he moves even further into your touch.

“Always and forever only yours, pretty one”, Iwaizumi sighs and presses his forehead against yours.

࿏ A/N: And here it finally is! My first x chubby reader fic!! As a chubby someone who’s been reading fanficion for a long time, I’ve always craved some kind of representation and now I finally got to join this side of the community and I’m more than just happy about the way it turned out. I genuinely hope you guys will enjoy this and find comfort the same way I did while writing this. Please feel free to leave any sort of feedback if you enjoyed it and thank you so much for everything.

#haikyuu smut #Iwaizumi x female reader #Iwaizumi x chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #Iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!! smut #hq!! smut #hq!! x reader #hq!! x female reader #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #kyovtani #💌.chubby reader #💌.for iwa lovers

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

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Hey, I love your work alot you're an incredibly skilled writer and always look forward to seeing your notification pop up! Is it ok if I request Adrien pinning a male reader down while they're alone?

A Adrien solo headcanon? How fun, boo!

Sure thing.

Sorry boo, even if I really liked your idea I've been having a lot of headaches (sorry if it's tmi, but: Periods fuckin sucks-).

I hope you don't mind if I redo your ask another time, probably a better one shot than- Whatever the hell I was thinking when writing this XD

TW/Tags: bullying but like- That's no surprise lol- // mentions of past encounters // perhaps mutual simping? // short hc, sorry about that boo ;-; // Terrible quality for an headcanon

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Sorry I don't have a title- [Yandere!Bully OC (Adrien) x M!Reader - Headcanon]:

You have been running around this place for quite some time now, Amaryllis Academy is quite big after all.

You suspected that someone like him would not have enough stamina to continue pursuing you like this. And the truth is that he didn't have enough of an athletic build to hold it for so long, he just changed his strategy.

You also weren't necessarily interested in exercising everyday, you could say that maybe you two have the same amount of stamina, the difference being that you decided to waste it all while trying to run from him- And he decided to plan a way to corner you.

No one can blame you for falling so easily to that, but let's be honest- You should have seen this coming the moment he stopped chasing you and started coming forward very calmly.

"Why didn't I stop running as well?" You thought out loud now that you find yourself in a no ways out situation, great, just great.

You were choking on your own air- Completely out of breath having a hard time bringing more oxygen to your lungs. You take a look back and notice who was walking in- Wow, how surprising.

"- Ugh, come on-" you were not really pissed off, or surprised, or even scared anymore, you were just tired of having to run from this guy. One would think that someone like him isn't capable of hurting a single fly, but those who doubted him would end up having a big wake up call- Just like you did.

Do you remember now? It was in a similar situation like this- You were cornered, out of breath, your legs were giving up and couldn't even fight anymore. The only difference from that moment to now was that there wasn't anyone else here, except you two.

No audience this time, this was the backstage and you two were the actors getting their costumes out. At least that's how he saw it, to you it was just like any other time he would bully you. How wrong were you to think that.

He didn't make any attempts at running at you, and as you tried to help yourself on the walls beside you, he clapped at your latest performance.

"- Bravo, Are you happy with yourself now? That you managed to make a fool out of yourself?" His voice wasn't as bored as he usually was, it sounded filled with sarcasm with a hint of true anger in it.

Despite that, you weren't sure what he was talking about. I mean- You know what happened, but you can't recall a single moment where you have made him so pissed off.

"- You tried your hardest to get me to this point, and congratulations- You did it-" Adrien was holding himself from lashing out as much he could, he was feeling humiliated and the fact you're so unaware as to way makes him want to choke you. Put his arms around your neck and force you to at least look at him when he is talking with you.

You tried to remember what could have possibly made him so desperate to get back at you, and as you do, you can feel your blood pulsating inside your skull- You can recall one incident that happened yesterday.

Yesterday, you were avoiding Adrien as best as you could, while also trying to make new friends that could help you get away from him for a bit longer. You started talking with a shy girl in your class, you thought that it would be easier to get to know someone who is mostly alone all the time then going straight to the popular crowd- Who would absolutely dismiss you or even do worse things considering Adrien's influence over them.

You started talking to a girl you thought to be an outcast just like yourself, maybe you two could have been friends- But that didn't last too long after you realized exactly why she would be so distant from other people, apparently she was one of those who were… A little too into other people's relationships, more specifically your relationship with Adrien.

She only started talking with you because of how much time you spent with Adrien, how suspicious it is for someone like him to be so clingy towards you. Her endless nagging was horrible but even worse was how she had planted the idea in her head that you two have been dating or something- You tried arguing that Adrien has done nothing but bullying you and distancing yourself from others, but she couldn't really listen to you, or even care enough to try.

You were heavily reconsidering your options, after all it didn't seem like you two would really work out together- But before you considered ditching her, Adrien had confronted you about walking around with her.

He was acting like his usual bratty self, keeping himself calm and still holding that stern look in his face, but the actual contents of his speech were a bit concerning- It sounded like he was really jealous of you hanging out with a "creep like her", as he said.

You tried calming him down to not create a bigger scene, but your new "friend" had pushed Adrien to end up bumping on you, which only made the situation to escalate.

Adrien took this whole thing as a plan you both created to make himself seem like a fool, this was just an attempt to get his attention and he fell for it- He got red and started yelling at you two, his threats sounding like barks.

That's why he was chasing you today, at least that's why you thought so- Although the truth was a bit deeper than that, dearest. That whole event didn't slip through his mind even when he was asleep, he dreamed about the incident- Although with a thin veil of something a bit… Uncalled for in his opinion.

In Adrien's head, the accident made it look like he was hugging you, which made him get flustered and panicky. He had a dream about the whole scene happening again, but without your friend and without any of the other students, it was very pathetic of him to imagine a scenario where you would be there for him, to get him when he falls, how wishful.

He blames you for such a dream, just as if he would blame you if he ever got a dream about you cheating on him- Regardless of how your actual relationship is currently.

His own delusions and anxious thoughts would get the best of him, and that's why you're in this exact situation- Feeling out of breath with no one to save you from Adrien.

You felt yourself almost lose your balance and almost hit your face in the concrete, but thanks to Adrien slamming your back against the wall you didn't need to scratch your face, at least that's a positive.

You didn't pay much attention to what he was saying, you were just kinda pissed off of having to deal with this brat's bs everyday. Although, you're very aware that Adrien can be a bit more than just a brat, sometimes you have to remind yourself of that- It wouldn't be pretty to make him mad.

Bullying you, hating you, liking you, loving you- All are so difficult to manage everyday, it's too much work for someone like him. It's exhausting overthinking about you every day.

"- …. Sigh- You're very annoying, very, very annoying…." all that anger that was previously in his voice has almost gone away, being slowly replaced with tiredness. Key word being "almost", he was tired but not over his own jealousy yet.

You didn't want to provoke him considering how, well- Dangerous this situation is, or could be if you do the wrong thing. It's a 50/50 chance of you finding a way to comfort him without him lashing out once again. Then again, nothing can prevent him from getting the wrong idea of your actions, so choose wisely your next move, dearest.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere bully #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc headcanon #yandere bully x reader #yandere bully x male reader #male reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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phoenix-downer · 3 years

Text

The Princess of Light Chapter 7: This Is Warmth

~1520 words. Angst, Romance, Fluff, Fairy Tales. For SoKai Week 2021, Day 7.

Summary: Princess Kairi is cursed to be without love when she is a baby. She grows up cold and without a heart to help her understand other people’s feelings, no matter how hard her parents try to help her. One day, however, she meets a mysterious prince from a faraway world, and he just might hold the key to breaking her curse.

Everything feels quite heavy after you’ve had a brush with death, and for Sora things were no different. He was swimming against a strong current that dragged him down and pulled him further into darkness. Wouldn’t it be easier to just let go? Give up and sink deeper? Give his heart and soul to the abyss?

He was as good as dead anyway. His life for hers, his heart to save the Heart of the World. That was the deal; that was the only way the magic inscribed on the lucky charm would work.

“Sora!”

Her voice. He’d never expected to hear it again. And yet here it was, calling out to him.

“Please wake up!” she cried.

“I’m asleep?” he said weakly. “I thought I was dead.”

“Sora!”

He sat up, groggy. A heavy fog lingered over his whole body, like he was swimming through syrup. The way she’d said his name—so tenderly, with so much care and worry—he’d never dreamed he’d hear such a thing thanks to her curse. Her voice compelled him, and he had to answer.

“Kairi,” he said softly, sweetly, allowing himself to address her without her title. Light pierced the darkness, and strength surged through him. He swam towards the light, and with each passing moment it got easier and easier to go against the dark current trying to drag him back down to the abyss. At last the light enveloped him, warm and soft and bright, and his eyes flew open.

He gasped for air, drawing it into his lungs like he couldn’t get enough of it. Never does oxygen feel so wonderful as it does when you haven’t had enough of it. He gulped it in, swallowed it and grasped it till his blood was pumping it through his veins. Once that was taken care of, he could attend to his beloved Kairi hovering over him. He mustered a weak smile for her. Had she really stayed with him all this time?

“Kairi,” he said tenderly, then cupped her cheek. She burst into tears, an entire lifetime’s worth pouring out of her all at once, and a lump built in his throat. Her very first tears since she was a baby, and they were for him. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m alive. It’s gonna be okay.”

She cried and cried and cried like he’d never seen anyone cry before, and thunder rumbled through the room and lightning illuminated the sky. And then it rained and rained and rained, like the whole world was in tune with her tears.

He put his arms around her, and she just kept crying and crying. He felt a few tears of his own well up in his eyes as he held her. No more strange gap in her back where the hole in her heart should be. Instead she felt warm and firm as she shuddered and sobbed into his chest.

When at last she had cried the last of her tears, he cupped her cheek and smiled. “You begged me to wake up again, and I heard your voice.”

That brought a fresh wave of tears from her, but those tears were mixed with smiles and laughter. She paused for a moment and touched her chest.

“Huh? There’s—There’s no hole anymore—”

She looked at Sora and then at Aqua.

“The curse must be broken!” Aqua cried and held her arms out.

Kairi tried to stand, but she immediately lost her balance. Sora grabbed her before she could tumble to the floor, then gently brought her back to the bed.

“My chest is so heavy!” she cried, her eyes wide. “Like it’s pulling me down to earth.”

Sora smiled sadly. “You do have your heart back, then.”

A heart was a wonderful thing to have, but it also brought sorrow and pain with it. The joy and delight made it worth it though. Especially when the king and queen entered the room and saw the curse was lifted and their daughter was restored.

“Kairi!” the queen cried and ran to the bed. She brought her daughter into her embrace, and the king soon joined them both in a group hug. The three of them wept together, for Kairi finally understood what it was to cry. Sora sighed happily at the sight unfolding before him. The king and queen had dreamed of this moment for so long, and he knew it was important to give the family their space. But then the king looked at Sora with such gratitude that Sora was moved deeply by his display of emotion.

“Thank you, Sora,” he said, his voice breaking a little. Sora didn’t know what to say, but that was quite alright, as the king simply pulled him into the group hug. And then of course the queen brought Aqua in so that all five of them were embracing. This moment was only possible because of Sora’s sacrifice and Kairi’s light that had willed him back to life, and such marvelous things had to be celebrated. Together their hearts had created the most powerful magic of all.

~~~

Over the next few weeks, Kairi had to relearn how to walk, for having her heart restored had completely changed her center of gravity. Thankfully, she had a very eager and willing teacher by her side every step of the way. Sora took her outside near the light pool, and she used the nearby trees to hobble from one support to the next as he waited patiently with outstretched arms.

“I never thought having a heart would be this heavy,” Kairi said as she grasped her chest, panting for breath. She felt as if every step would make her go tumbling to the ground. She searched Sora’s face for some sort of encouragement. “Will it always feel like this?”

He shook his head. “Not always. Sometimes it’ll feel heavy, sure. You’ll feel sad or down or lonely. But that’s not all you’ll be able to feel.” At this he swept her up into his arms like he had so many times before when they fell in together. “Other times, your heart will be so full you can hardly stand it,” he added, for he was speaking of how he currently felt. “You’ll feel like you’re so happy you’re soaring,” he continued, spinning her around for good measure as she laughed with delight. Her laughter was so different from how it had been before; it was so warm and full of life.

“Like how I feel now?” she asked with a sweet smile, and he nodded and grinned. Then she kissed him, and at first his eyes went wide, and then they fluttered shut as he returned the kiss. You would hardly have been able to find a happier young man in all the worlds.

“So this is warmth,” she said afterwards, resting her forehead against his and sighing happily.

“This is warmth,” he confirmed, and she covered his face in such a flurry of kisses that his heart nearly burst. He carried her to the little hill over the light pool as fast as possible, and together they jumped in again, plunging in once more.

Now, I mentioned before that when Sora restored the Heart of the World, he restored the rest of the light pools and lakes and streams and rivers of Radiant Garden too. And indeed he did, just like the prophecies said. So the people of Radiant Garden once more enjoyed the delights of the light flowing throughout their land. No longer was it limited to just the royal family.

Eventually Kairi could walk on her own again, and the moment she could, she insisted she and Sora be married. Everyone happily agreed, Sora most of all. Watching her carefully walk down the aisle to him like they’d practiced so many times made his heart swell. And the smile on her face and the happy tears in her eyes as they exchanged their vows? It made everything that had come before worth it. Kairi had the biggest, brightest, most beautiful heart of them all.

Now, you might be wondering what happened to Maleficent. By necessitating Sora’s sacrifice to save the Heart of the World and thus Kairi, she also ensured her defeat. The moment the last of Sora’s light exploded out of him and fully restored the Heart of the World and everything else, it poured through her castle just like it poured over the rest of Radiant Garden. Coming into direct contact with something so good and pure gave Maleficent such a shock that she keeled over dead. Either that or the entire castle collapsing around her did her in. The soldiers who found her weeks later weren’t entirely sure.

Either way, at long last the person who had brought such suffering to Radiant Garden, to the king and queen, to Princess Kairi, and to Prince Sora, was gone. Never again was Kairi’s heart cursed. She and Sora were happily married the rest of their days and ruled graciously and wisely. And they had several delightful children, all of whom enjoyed the full use of their hearts.

~~~

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, reblogged, and commented on my story! I really appreciate all the support ❤️If you enjoyed this adaptation, I would highly recommend the original story (The Light Princess by George MacDonald). And thank you again @scoobysnack1107 for reading over the story for me! Happy SoKai Week everyone!

#sokai #sokaiweek #sokaiweek2021 #sora #kairi #kingdom hearts #kh fanfiction #phoenix writes #phoenix-downer #romance #fairy tale #fairy tales #happily ever after #the light princess #inspired by the light princess #the princess of light #chapter seven #long post

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vampcubus · 3 years

Text

Crazy

Momotaro Fujiwara x Reader

A/N: Momo is my original character~ you can read more about him under #my OCs #momo #momotaro fujiwara tags on my blog ☺️💜 I’m thinking of making a part two eventually.

Song used is Crazy by KidneyThieves

Warnings: Angst, drinking/alcohol, hurt/comfort, slight unresolved angst, Momo being Momo.

Words: 1.4k+

. . .

You didn’t suspect anything was out of the ordinary at first, not perturbed by the booming music coming from Fujiwara’s dorm. Momo, you corrected yourself, remembering his distaste for his last name. So as if it were any other evening you passed his door to retire to your own room. That was until you smelt something most certainly out of the ordinary.

A mixture of salt and fruit loops wafted from underneath the door, undoubtedly momo’s scent, but tainted.

He was crying.

You knit your brows and pursed your lips, unsure of going in would be wise. Your lemur classmate had proven to be rather intolerant when it came to being offered help. Resigned, you turn away from his door as if to leave, only to stop again when the slightest whimper wiggles its way through the lyrics of the song.

It felt wrong to leave the poor thing to his misery, even if he ended up kicking you out, it smelled like he needed someone.

Doubting he’d hear you knock, you simply let yourself in. His dorm was pinker than you were expecting: rugs, curtains, and fuzzy pink feather boas hung from the exposed rafters. Makeup of all kinds littered his dresser. Band posters and haphazardly-placed Polaroids sticky-tacked to the walls in stark contrast to the explosion of pink.

It was very… Barbie.

Curled up in a tight ball on the bed, half-tangled in a fluffy hot pink duvet is Momo. It seems he hasn’t noticed you yet, continuing to sob into his knees. His striped tail was spiked and angular with stress. The smell of sea-salt and regret gets ever stronger as you approach the shaking boy, as you take in more of your surroundings you catch a few of the lyrics of the song playing.

Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely

I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue.

The fairy lights reflect off of something in the corner of your eye and your head flicks to the side to see a few empty bottles of… rum? Momotaro drinks?

I knew, you'd love me as long as you wanted

And someday, you'd leave me for somebody new

You could see he had an arm wrapped around his stomach, no doubt feeling the repercussions of drinking so heavily. A part of you wants to leave him there to deal with his own problems, it was his choice to drink. But again something stops you. He smelled so sad, and your quirk had yet to lie to you.

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

And I'm wondering, what in the world should I do?

You reach out and shut off the radio, the dark music halting, as well as Momo’s choked sobs. There’s a moment of processing, he’s frozen, before his body jumps into fight or flight mode and he leaps from the mattress into the rafters. He stares down at you with wide golden eyes, hair tousled, leaving both eyes on display as his expression changes from fright to confusion.

“What the hell are you doing in here?!” He hisses, tail angrily swishing from side to side, cheeks turning pink.

“I- uh…” you stumbled over your words, suddenly unsure what to say. You’d just been caught in someone else’s dorm snooping around. “You were- I smelt you crying and I- wanted to make sure you were okay.”

That’s right, you were the girl with the scent quirk. Something about smelling emotions, tracking and some shit. Something shifted in those golden eyes of his, something softer. But Momo’s defenses were still in full effect.

“Well, I’m fine. Now get out!” His voice cracks, and you notice. Because you’ve always noticed, you realize. Always noticed something broken in him, even when he paid you no mind, your eyes always strayed to him in class.

He was an untamable ball of energy and chaos, wreaking havoc wherever he went. Collectively hated by most of the class, it’s no wonder he has few friends. He refuses compassion, and few have the patience to spend their time chipping away at his walls. He bent over backwards for no one, begged no one, and changed for no one. Perhaps that’s what drew you to him. The fact that he was unapologetically himself no matter what anyone thought.

Still, it had to be lonely.

You’re brought back to the present when the rafters creak under Momo’s weight; he’s moving. Further away, you gather.

“You’ve been drinking, and crying. I don’t think that means you’re okay.” You gesture to the growing pile of rum bottles, the smell of alcohol still lingering on his shaking breaths. “I’m here for you, Momo.”

“Leave, just like everyone else does.” Momo slurs, finally dropping down from the rafters onto a shaggy zebra rug. His eyes have hardened again, this time with enough contempt to force a gasp from you. “Don’t pretend to care about me, don’t pretend you want anything to do with me just to satiate some sick sense of chivalry you have. I am fine, just the way I am, and nothing you say can change me.”

His words are like venom, eyes piercing and cold, his clawed hand curls around the neck of a new bottle and flicks off the cork.

You step forward, gripping the bottle before he can touch the lip of it to his mouth and yank it from his dark hand. It slips from your hand but doesn't shatter, instead pouring out onto the polished wooden floorboards. Momo hisses harshly, teeth bared as he prepares to tear you a new one for being wasteful but it’s cut short when your lips meet his. It’s far from gentle, full of clicking teeth, unpracticed and raw. And yet it steals the air from his lungs, weakens his knees as your hands hold his face.

Momotaro moans brokenly against your forceful lips, hands tugging and pulling, clinging to whatever of you he could reach.

You don’t realize why until he finally gets a good grip on your forearms and yanks you forwards, sending you both tumbling onto his bed. You situate yourself on top of him, wary not to put too much of your weight upon him as he yanks you back down to his lips. Making out with your classmate had not been your plan going into this, but the way he was clinging to you, chasing your lips every time you parted, whimpering as your fingers tangled in his curls had you leaning in for more and more of him. If he didn’t want to talk, you could comfort him this way for now.

When you finally pull away for breath, you’re both wheezing for oxygen, having thrown away your need to breathe in favor of sharing spit.

You roll onto your side and pull him to your chest, allowing him to wrap himself around you, his warm forehead pressed to your collarbone. Momo smells heavily of fruity cereal and expensive perfume, something you’re learning to appreciate as he relaxes in your arms, ears swiveling and twitching at every sound you make.

He doesn’t know what to say. The last thing he had expected to happen when he told you to leave was to be kissed, and now held like a child after a meltdown. He was embarrassed, confused, and now very aroused.

“What’s your goal here, L/N?” Momo rasps, cringing at the burning kickback of the rum in his throat.

“I’m sorry?” You blinked, caught off guard.

His throat contracted. He hoped to god he wouldn’t throw up. The churning in his stomach was making him nervous.

“Are you here to fuck me or patronize me?” Momo asks, focusing on calming his belly. He wasn’t a lightweight, but he’d had a lot to drink and he wasn’t sure if his teen body was going to hold it in.

His bluntness lights a fire behind your cheeks and you stutter, your mouth going dry. Momotaro certainly didn’t beat around the bush, and you don’t know if you’re thankful or embarrassed by it. You steel your nerves, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his forehead before burning your nose in his hair.

“Neither; you’re drunk as hell and having a breakdown. I’m here to support you, and watch you in case you hurt yourself.”

“Lame.” Momotaro huffs, squirming away from you and turning his back on you, clearly annoyed. But he doesn’t protest when you shift closer and spoon him in your arms. “And here I thought you might be fun. But you’re boring, just like everyone else in this shithole.”

#momotaro fujiwara #momotaro fujiwara x reader #momo x reader #momotaro x reader #oc x reader #bnha oc x reader #mha oc x reader #angst #tw: drinking #my ocs #oc fanfiction #bnha #mha #lemur quirk

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babypinkhearts · 4 years

Note

Hey, I’m new here and I like your Blog soo much. So I was wondering if I may ask about a scenario of Killua where he rescues his crush from drowning because it can’t swim. I imagine how soft and worried he is when his crush is out of danger uwu

aw, yes! you got it! thank you so much for your kind words! <3

pairing: killua zoldyck + reader

warnings: mention of drowning, mere death experience - overall fluff

to be clear, getting in the water was never part of the plan.

idealy, you were hoping to just sit on the sides and converse with the rest of your friends while they enjoyed the ocean.

countless peer-pressuring brought you to realize that your initial plan unfortunately wouldn’t work out with them.

your lack of making independent decisions brought you here.

right into the depths of the water, stuggling to stay afloat.

the dangers of the waters aren’t talked about enough. sudden waves draw you in, leaving you with no chance of escape.

that is, unless you have the ability to swim.

a skill you lacked.

you had never been taught how to - yet you were aware how necessary it was to learn.

it was your fault that your lungs were currently screaming for air, your body proving useless as you attempted to resist the ocean’s waves.

when you had initially gone in, you had kept a safe distance and stayed at the shallow end. though, as time went by, you found yourself subconsciously following your friends as they slowly descended deeper into the ocean.

it hadn’t been until your feet were no longer touching the ground, that you realized you were in trouble.

the timing was inconvenient for you.

it seemed as though the second your body was no longer in contact with the ground, the ocean made it it’s mission to submerge you.

strong waves had immediately came in, dragging you as you helplessly paddled to keep your head above.

your heart beat against your chest - the pressure becoming alarming.

god, you were terrified.

you tried your best - relentlessly moving your limbs as you sucked in as many breaths of air you could get before another wave struck you.

where was everyone?

you felt lightheaded.

the sun beamed down on you - it’s rays only adding to your stuggle as you helplessly blinked, your vision blurry.

your eyes stung - the salt water only adding on to your anxiety.

“h-help!”

you managed to say one word before another wave hit, succesfully pulling you down once more.

you gasped, coughing as you submerged for a quick second.

your throat was stinging, a result of unintentionally swallowing the water.

“ple-“

you were cut off as another wave hit, aggressively sinking you the furthest that you had ever gone.

panicked, you moved your aching arms, trying your absolute hardest to quickly get to the surface.

you felt dread creep across your body as you slowly realized that your weak paddles might not be enough to get you out of this.

your movements had almost completely tired you out, your body only having enough energy to weakly kick your legs.

the pain in your chest was only getting progressively unbearable.

air.

you need air.

ignoring the stinging, you opened your eyes.

a mistake.

your stomach dropped.

black circles surrounded you - the more you blinked, the more would appear.

as each second went by, you found it increasingly difficult to keep your eyes open.

the surface seemed so far...

you felt exhausted.

almost as if you could sleep.

the pain...

did it stop?

it was quiet.

peaceful, almost.

yet, traces of eeriness lingered.

your eyes were closed.

you could make out some light from behind your eyelids.

the water...

you weren’t in the water anymore.

a chill ran down your spine.

why was it so cold?

you felt like you were freezing.

“hey... i got you something to eat...”

you flinched at the sudden voice.

something beside you hit the floor, a loud crash accompanying it.

for what felt like an eternity, it was silent.

you felt the need to move, your anxiety rising.

yet, your body felt frozen, only allowing you to move your fingers.

“please - tell me i didn’t imagine that.”

footsteps were audible, the sound coming closer to you.

they stopped beside you.

suddenly, a hand pressed against your cheek, cupping it gently.

you held your breath, a bit frightened from the contact.

“y/n?”

you recognized the voice, their soothing touch comforting you as you hesitantly opened your eyes.

the extreme brightness of the room prompted in you closing them again immediately.

“oh my god - you’re awake.”

killua.

his tone sounded relieved - a sigh escaping his lips as you felt him rake a hand through your hair.

you gulped, recalling the past events that had happened when you were previously conscious.

you almost drowned.

it felt like a miracle that you were alive.

clearly, you had passed out from lack of oxygen and exhaustion. there was no way you had gotten out by yourself.

who had saved you?

you slowly opened your eyes again, finally letting them adjust to the harsh lighting of the room.

you were met with a familiar blue gaze.

his eyes were narrowed - his expression bitter.

the atmosphere in the room grew intense. you found yourself subconsciously cowering into the bed, trying your best to avoid his gaze.

dread crawled across your skin, not recognizing the unreadable look on his face.

with hesitance, you attempted to reach out to him.

“killua...” you whispered, your voice slightly wavering in anxiety. your throat ached, not allowing you to speak any louder.

killua dodged your touch, shaking his head. with widened eyes, you pursed your lips, masking your hurt as you gently placed your arm back down, nodding in acceptance.

his buidling anger was only beginning to show. it wouldn’t be long until he finally broke.

you watched as he sat beside you on the bed, his head tilted at the floor.

his hair covered his eyes.

without facing you, he lifted his chin, looking toward the wall in front of him.

you heard him exhale deeply.

“you’re an idiot.”

your eyes widened at his blunt words. shaking your head, you tilted your head in attempt to look at his face.

“what-“

“you heard me. you’re an idiot.” he interrupted.

unexpectedly, he turned to you, lifting his head as he stared at your face.

“who willingly goes into the ocean without knowing how to swim?”

you blinked.

“i guess... that’d be me.” you sheepishly mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck.

killua huffed, closing his eyes in irritation.

it annoyed him.

the fact that when he merely looked at you, all his anger had diminished.

in his mind, he had been planning a whole lecture to give to you. though all those thoughts had been easily erased - his main focus converting into checking if you were alright.

“thank you, by the way.”

killua shook his head at your words, confused. “for?”

you smiled at him, raising a brow. it was an attempt to lighten the mood - only in hopes that killua would get the message and calm down.

“i mean... it was you who saved me - am i wrong?”

it was your best guess.

from what you vaguely remembered, you knew killua had been the closest to you when you had been trapped underwater.

it’d make the most sense that he had been the one to get you out.

to your luck, killua slowly nodded.

“yeah. it was me.” he confessed, closing his eyes.

you softly smiled, “i figured.”

guilt was still evident in you. it was your fault that he had to go through the trouble of rescuing you.

you sighed, “i’m sorry for being irresponsible... i should’ve told everyone i couldn’t swim.” you chuckled, rubbing your arm. “i guess i just wanted to ignore it and have a fun day with the rest of you.”

with a trace of hesitance, you lifted your arms once more. you were afraid to be rejected again - yet you still had slight hope.

“forgive me?” you softly asked, holding your arms out for a hug.

killua blinked, staring at you.

in all honesty, he had forgiven you the second he knew you were safe.

seeing you struggling in the water was something he’d never want to witness again.

he cared about you - even though he showed it terribly.

you were surprised to see a small smile form on his face.

it was barely visible, but it was definitely there.

“fine.” he mumbled, accepting your hug.

he relished in the way you held him, one of your hands reaching to caress his hair gently while the other rubbed his back.

he found himself nuzzling into your neck, immediately becoming addicted to the warmth your body radiated.

“y/n?”

you hummed in response, your eyes closed. killua had never been very affectionate - you were using this time as wisely as you could.

you felt him squeeze you, his breath against your neck causing shivers to run down your spine.

“i’m teaching you how to swim tomorrow, go it?”

you could already imagine his frustration while he would be teaching.

nonetheless, you nodded, a small laugh leaving your lips.

“alright - got it.”

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years

Note

Hay this might be a rough request, but I am a complete mess rn so this is definitely about me haha. But could you maybe do something for Regis with a Reader who's falling for him, but has struggle to let people inside her life as she's been abused mentally as long as she can thinks and as she's having a breakdown Regis finds her and she's about to confess what she feels for the higher vampire but is scares to be hurt? - 🦊

If you don't want to write this just let me know. ❤️

A/N: hi babe I won’t bombard too much but if you ever need anything my box is open or you can DM me

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, mentions of suggested partner abuse but nothing descriptive

***

You were sitting alone at a table in a large room with Kaer Morhen that you declared to be the dining room. You were preparing dinner, making enough for all of the boys should they return. Vesemir was off tinkering with some ladder he’d been talking about all week. Apparently it needed to be repaired.

You hissed as the blade of your knife slipped and caught the inside of your thumb. The knife was abandoned at the table as blood started to steadily seep from the wound. You used your skirt - dirty at the hem from tending to the goats earlier in the day - to stop the bleeding.

“Damn bastard.” You cursed, glaring down at the knife.

“What did I do already?” Lambert teased as he crossed the room. You didn’t realize he had even walked in until he spoke. You jumped and turned your head to him, smiling.

“Hi, Lambert! How was the journey?”

“Shitty and long, as usual.” He took a seat at the table with you. “Anybody here with you?”

“Vesemir arrived late last week.” You nodded. “Geralt, Ciri, and Jaskier are here with Regis and Dettlaff. Yennefer keeps popping in and out whenever she wants. Have you heard from Eskel?”

“A while ago.” He picked up a strawberry from a bowl on the table. “Ran into him in Aedd Gynvael about three weeks back. Said he had an archgriffin contract to finish up and then he was gonna head here. Figured he’d be here already.”

You nodded, letting your skirt fall back into place. The bleeding had stopped but it burned.

You moved over to the pot of soup hanging over the fire. It was bubbling nicely.

“Is this winter gonna be the winter where you tell Regis?”

You turned your head to look at Lambert. He moved towards you, wanting to inspect what you were cooking. He was always very cautious about eating anything someone else made for him. You remembered him telling you a story of one of the few times he let Geralt cook. Apparently everyone in the keep got food poisoning.

“Tell…. Tell Regis what?” You asked quietly, brows furrowing together.

“That you fancy him.” Lambert rolled his eyes at the word. It was very, very rare for him to like someone as quickly as he took a liking to you. You’d heard Eskel say something to Geralt about how Lambert knew what it was like to grow up in an unsafe home, that you both shared similar upbringings prior to his arrival at Kaer Morhen. You never asked the young wolf about it, never wanting to pick at old wounds.

“Don’t play stupid, Y/N.”

You flinched at the name but Lambert didn’t notice. He had moved away towards the table where you had been cutting up potatoes. You knew he meant nothing by it, but you couldn’t help your stomach twisting up into knots.

“You know we all can see how you swoon every time he’s in the same room as you.”

“Can you keep it down a little, Lambert?” You asked him, messing with your skirt as you went to the table. “I-I don’t want him knowing.”

“Why not?” Lambert looked up at you. “You want me to help you with the potatoes? You’ll lose a finger at the rate you’re going.” He nodded to your hand. You had more than a couple knicks on your hands and fingers. You weren’t the best at using a knife, but you tried your best.

“Please.” You nodded softly. Your eyes followed Lambert as he went over to the wash basin to clean his hands. “I…. just don’t think it’d be wise of me to do that. To…. To put myself in that position.”

“I don’t blame you.” Lambert sighed, drying his hands off on a towel. “Opening up to people sucks ass.”

You smiled a little.

“How’s Aiden doing, by the way?” You tilted your head to the side a little as you sat down across from the wolf. “Is he coming this winter?”

“Said he might.” Lambert muttered. “Probably won’t show up until the middle of a snow storm or something stupid.”

You admired the witcher for loving someone, and you were a little jealous.

You chewed on your bottom lip, looking down at the three little cuts on your fingers.

“What are you thinking about?” Lambert asked, keeping his voice low.

“Nothing.” You answered a little too quickly.

“I can see the steam coming out of your ears, kid. This is one of those rare times I ask you what you’ve got going on inside that head of yours. The polite thing would be for you to take advantage of that.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his yellow gaze.

“How…. How do you do it, Lambert?” You brushed a few pieces of hair behind your ears. “How do you let yourself get like that? Become vulnerable for Aiden? I-I mean, I can’t even comfortably open up to Geralt or Eskel and I’ve known them for the better half of a decade. Sometimes…. Sometimes it’s hard opening up to you even and we’ve known each other how long?”

“Feels like a lifetime.” He sighed, nodding his head. Lambert had met you years ago when a chort had invaded your village. “Uh, it’s hard, kid. Really hard. But you just…. If you really like someone, you’ve gotta let it happen.”

You looked down at the table, your fingers brushing over markings in the wood.

“Yeah, I get it. But you…. You’re a witcher.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. “If…. If Aiden were to get…. If he were to be, um, harmful to you…. You could stop him.”

Lambert stopped cutting the potatoes and looked across the table at you as realization hit him.

“Regis is stronger than you. That’s what you’re afraid of.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip.

“I know no amount of me telling you this will help, but Regis isn’t that kind of guy.” Lambert shook his head. “He’d never….” The wolf trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. “And you know Geralt wouldn’t associate with someone like that.”

You nodded your head and opened your mouth to speak when Ciri, Dettlaff, Regis, and Geralt walked in. Your eyes darted to Lambert, who very briefly met your gaze before looking over at the small group. You moved away from the table as everyone started to sit down. You went to the fire to check on the soup.

“I was just telling Y/N here that I heard from Eskel a few weeks ago. He should be here any day now.”

“Good.” Geralt sighed, taking a seat at the table.

“Y/N? Do you need help with anything, dear?” Regis asked.

You looked over your shoulder to him, your voice caught in your throat as your heart started to beat a little faster.

“Erm, I-I think we’ve- Lambert and I have everything under control.” You looked over to Lambert, who didn’t look at you. You knew he’d never tell anyone about your feelings towards the Higher Vampire, but you couldn’t help feeling that maybe he would. Your trust had been violated by those you thought the world of before.

***

Later on that evening after everyone ate their fill of soup and helped clean the kitchen, you retreated to the library. The entire night it felt like you were tense and on edge. You weren’t too sure what it was, but it probably had something to do with the fact that Regis had sat beside you the whole evening and tried multiple times to engage in conversation with you. You did your best to keep the conversations going, but it wasn’t easy. That voice in the back of your head kept telling you that you needed to shut up before he realized that you were into him.

You got a book and sat down in your favorite chair. It was large and comfy and rested close to the fireplace so you could stay warm.

You tried to focus on the book, to immerse yourself in the story, but it just wasn’t working. Your mind was going a million miles a second and you couldn’t gain control of your thoughts. Your lungs couldn’t pull in enough oxygen. You felt dizzy and nauseous at the same time.

The book was placed down on the table next to you and you leaned forward, your elbows on your knees and your hands over your face.

You tried counting to make the invasive feelings go away, but that didn’t work. You tried to stop thinking about everything that could go wrong if you were to tell Regis of how you felt, but that didn’t work either. Warm hands touched the back of your hands, making you flinch. You pulled your hands away from your face to see Regis kneeling before you.

You sucked in a sharp breath, sitting back in your seat to put space between you two. Your hands found the arms of the chair, gripping them tightly.

“Are you okay, dear?” Regis asked you, brows furrowed together in concern.

You sniffled pitifully and wiped your cheeks with your sleeves.

“I-I’m-I’m fine, Regis.”

“What’s gotten you so upset?” He tilted his head to the side a little.

You shook your head, unable to answer him.

He stood to his feet, messing with a buckle to his jacket.

“I’ll leave, if you’d like some space.”

“No!” You shouted, even though you didn’t mean to. You turned your head away from him, closing your eyes tightly. You needed to tell him. You needed to get it out. Maybe that was why you felt like you were going to explode, because you needed to tell him how you felt. “Please…. Please stay.”

He retrieved a chair from one of the tables and pulled it over to you. Regis kept his distance though, not wanting to invade your space.

You opened your eyes but you couldn’t turn your head to look at him. There was nothing but silence as he waited patiently for you to speak.

“I’m-I’m sorry you.... That I raised my voice at you.” You whispered, your voice weak and broken.

“There’s no need to apologize, my dear.” He assured you. The way he spoke to you so gently, so softly, nearly made your heart melt.

You brought your eyes down to your hands, picking at your fingers. You took a deep breath, before finding your voice again.

“I-I want to…. To tell you how I feel. But I can’t.”

“Why not?” Regis didn’t sound upset with you. He didn’t sound impatient. He was calm and quiet.

Your lips pressed together in a tight line and you shook your head. You turned your head to look across the room at one of the windows. The moon was shining in, casting a rectangle of light onto the old stone floor.

“I can’t let myself…. I can’t be like that with someone. Not after what’s happened.”

If Regis didn’t have such good hearing, he wouldn’t have been able to hear what you were saying.

His heart broke hearing your voice, hearing how upset you were and how hard it was for you to get this out.

“I’ve had too-too many people in my life…. that have hurt me.” You shifted around in your seat.

Silence fell between you both. You couldn’t find the right words to add on to what you were saying, to get him to understand.

“You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with doing, my dear.” Regis’s voice was smooth like honey as he spoke to you. “I won’t pretend to know what you’ve been through, because I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through. But I need you to know that I’d never put my hands on you, Y/N. The thought of it….. It makes me sick.”

“It’s not just that, Regis.” You brought your eyes to meet his. “I-I was with a man for three years. He never hit me, but sometimes I think hitting me would’ve done less damage than his words.”

This time, Regis couldn’t hold your gaze. He couldn’t bear the look in your eyes as you tried desperately to fight back the tears. You were fearful, terrified even. He wasn’t sure if it was because of him, or something else entirely, but he couldn’t help feeling as if he was partially to cause.

You looked down at your hands.

“I-I care about you, Regis. A lot. And I can’t-I can’t stop it, as badly as I want to.”

“I care about you as well, Y/N.” Regis fought the urge to put his hand on your shoulder or on the back of your hand. Now wasn’t the time for that. “But we don’t have to act on these feelings, not if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

“It isn’t fair to you.”

Regis held his hand out for you, praying that he wasn’t overstepping. You looked down at his hand, taking note of how wide his palm was and how long a slender his fingers were. Your hand hesitantly found his, your fingertips brushing along his palm and up to his wrist.

“My dear, it isn’t fair that you’ve been with someone who didn’t treat you like the queen you are.” His grip tightened on your hand gently. “I am willing to wait as long as needed for you. If there’s never a time you are comfortable with exploring more within our relationship, then that is okay too. I just want to be here for you.”

You nodded your head, smiling a little. Your heart raced in your chest, but this was a good racing. You didn’t feel sick.

“You’re so sweet, Regis. I-I want to hug you.”

He nodded and stood up. You did too, taking quick note of how your head barely reached his shoulders as his long arms wrapped around you tightly. You buried your nose into his chest, closing your eyes.

“Thank you, Regis.” Your words were muffled against him. “I know I’m not the easiest to be around sometimes.”

“Oh nonsense, my dear. You are an absolute treasure.” Regis murmured against your hair.

“Can you…. maybe…. read to me? Like you did last winter?” You kept your face in his chest, afraid to face him in case he said no.

“I’d like nothing more than to read to you, my dear.”

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an–actual–human–disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymo @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @unadulteratedtreecrusade @Aquarius-pisces-rose @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @sometimesiwrite

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#Regis x reader #Regis #the witcher #Regis fluff #kacey answers

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fanfictionaries · 3 years

Text

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 13 - Uh Oh

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

So they’ve kissed...now what?

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

I update every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST) (except that one time)!

Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo

Masterlist

<<Chapter 12

If I breathe I will misplace my fear I won't walk away in anger dear Or in time I will forget And I stumble toward you with hands around your neck

She was floating – floating in deep frigid water and while her eyes were closed, she did not need to open them to know this. The weightlessness of her body and the pressure on her ears told her she was somewhere she really shouldn’t be. Her body wasn’t meant to be there, so far below the water where only creatures of the deep lurked through the thick slimy seagrass and cavernous rock.

I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be here, the voice in Hermione’s head repeated endlessly. It grew louder and louder, giving her the strength to break from the body-binding paralysis that kept her lifeless and still. Wrenching open her eyes; she was greeted with an endless black. How far beneath the water’s surface did she have to be to see so little? Turning her head blindly, she tried to find anything that showed a way out, but again there was nothing. A great expanse of nothing. With her consciousness came the overwhelming need to breathe, but Hermione knew that she couldn’t. Unless she’d suddenly sprouted gills, it would be impossible to fill her aching lungs with anything but ice-cold water. She had to get out. Kicking her feet, she stroked through the water desperately pushing herself upwards, but it was no use. Something had her caught around the ankle, holding her in place. Frantically, she reached down and felt the rough surface of rope under her wrinkled fingertips. She grasped at the rope, pulling and twisting, trying to find the knot as she held her breath. Her heart was beginning to pound violently in her chest and her lungs screamed for the sweet relief of oxygen, but still she fought. Just as she felt the material start to give, it changed from coarse cotton to slick flesh. Hermione let out a startled scream, muffled by the water, and kicked her feet wildly at whatever was holding onto her. It’s searching fingers traveled up her calf, inch by inch. With a violent kick, she broke free from its grasp, pushing herself upwards with all the strength she had. She wasn’t confident that the way she swam was right, the darkness concealing all sense of direction, but then, she saw the light. The beautiful brightness that illuminated the water above her. Kicking with all her might she pushed herself until she broke through the surface gasping and sputtering.

Too preoccupied with letting her burning lungs fill with air, she was completely caught off guard when the world shifted around her. While floating on the water’s surface moments before, she was now falling. The sensation sending her stomach up into her throat as she let out a blood curdling scream. Hermione hit the ground hard, the soft grass beneath her doing nothing to pillow the impact. Panting heavily, she pushed up onto her hands and knees and looked around her. She was on the Hogwarts grounds. It was dusk, the sun not yet set enough to give way to the moon and stars. The grounds were empty, not a soul in sight, but the muffled sounds of a crowd could be heard. Getting to her feet, she saw in the distance, a large stadium brightly lit. There were people – they could help her. Limping towards the stadium, the sounds of the crowd grew louder and louder. By the time Hermione reached the arched entrance it was almost deafening, but when she turned the corner expecting to see hundreds of people sat on the stands, she saw no one. The voices were gone, and she was alone. Alone except for someone lying in the grass just a jog away.

“Hello?” Hermione called out, her voice echoing around her.

She took a few steps forward, the person coming into focus. A flash of jet-black hair and round-rimmed glasses were all she needed to see to know who it was. Hermione sprinted to Harry, coming to his side to find him pale and lifeless. Grasping his arm, she shook his rigid body, a tightness forming in her chest and a burning behind her eyes.

“Harry? Harry!” she shouted, continuing to shake him.

The sound of something heavy hitting the ground with force broke her focus and she turned to see a second body lying nearby. Crawling to it, she saw the dead and empty eyes of Ron as his body lay twisted and crumpled on the grass. She had barely reached him when there was another thud. And another. And another. All around her she watched as bodies hit the dewy grass with a sickening squelch of flesh and bone. So many – one after another. Everyone she knew and loved falling through the air and landing dead at her feet. She turned her tear-streaked face up to the sky slowly, afraid of what she might find. With horror she saw hundreds of bodies floating through an endless sea in the sky. They looked so peaceful, almost like they were sleeping, but Hermione knew better.

“Well, well, well…what do we have here?” asked a breathy, ominous voice.

Hermione gasped, looking back down to see a group concealed by masks and long hooded robes surrounding her. Stumbling backwards, she tripped over one of the bodies, landing hard on her bottom. Looking down she saw the helpless body of Cedric Diggory – the Hufflepuff champion. Desperately Hermione searched for her wand but found it nowhere on her person.

“Hermione,” Hermione heard a distant call of her name, but it was overpowered by the ominous voice speaking once again.

“Looking for this?” asked the voice. Hermione looked up. One of the masked and hooded figures stepped forward, towering over her, and holding out her wand. She reached for it, but before she could grasp the familiar wood, the figure snatched it away.

“Hermione,” called the distant voice again – this time coming through clearer.

The figure above her laughed, a bone chilling creaking sound. “I’m sorry dear – only witches own wands.”

“Hermione!”

Hermione shook her head, looking up at her mother’s concerned face from across the kitchen table. She’d been thinking about her nightmare again.

“Sorry mum – what did you say?” she asked, inhaling deeply, and sitting forward in her chair.

“Your father asked if you wanted one or two pancakes,” said her mother, cocking her head to the side and staring worriedly at Hermione.

“Oh—” Hermione twisted in her seat to where her father stood in front of the stove “—I’ll just have one dad. Thank you.”

“I’m worried about you, dear,” said her mother sweetly. “We just got you back for the summer and yet these past two weeks you’ve been so far away.”

“I’m sorry mum. I truly am happy to be here with you both. I just have a lot on my mind, is all,” said Hermione guiltily, looking down at her orange juice.

“Did something happen at school before you left? Something with that boy you wrote to us about? The one who took you to the dance?”

“No, no. Nothing happened. In fact, I received a letter from him the other day. He made it back to Bulgaria safely, and has started quidditch practice up again for the new season,” Hermione informed them, purposefully leaving out the true end of term events. They didn’t need to know what happened. It would only worry them. So instead she focused on the contents of Krum’s recent letter and thought fondly of him and how he’d all but begged her to write to him when they parted ways at the end of year. They’d grown quite close over the second of the term.

“Is he your boyfriend now then?” asked her father cheekily.

“Dad!” Hermione cried in embarrassment.

“Dan don’t tease the poor girl. If Hermione had a boyfriend, she would tell us…you would tell us, right?” her mother asked with false casualty.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes. Of course, I would tell you. But he’s not my boyfriend so there’s nothing to tell. He and I both agreed that furthering any relationship would not be wise. He’s all the way in Bulgaria and graduated, while I still have three more years at school. It wouldn’t work,” Hermione stated diplomatically.

“Well then, that still doesn’t explain why you’ve been so absent these past few weeks. Are you sure there isn’t something bothering you dear? You can tell us. You know we’ll support you in whatever it is.”

“Stop pestering her Jean,” said Dan, placing a plate with eggs, sausage, and a single pancake on the table in front of Hermione, before grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her out of her seat. He reached over and turned up the radio that had been playing soft music in the background. A new song picked up, lilting an old jazz tune through the small kitchen. Her father spun her in place, Hermione’s sock-ladened feet sliding easily over the linoleum, before he pulled her back into his arms and began to dance with her. “She’s a teenager now, dear. She’s probably tired of spending so much time with her boring old parents!” he declared with flourish as he dipped Hermione lightly and tapped the end of her nose with his spatula.

A giggle slipped past Hermione’s lips and she scrunched her nose.

“Old and boring? You two?” Hermione laughed as her father deposited her back into her chair. Jean’s expression was lighter now as she watched her smiling daughter begin to dig into her breakfast.

“Speaking of old and boring—” began Jean, looking teasingly at her husband.

“Watch it,” interjected Dan in a mock warning.

“We were thinking we would go and visit your father’s parents in France again this summer. We’d leave in a week.”

“Oh—” Hermione stopped mid-bite, the egg on her fork slipping back onto the plate “—again? What about your practice?”

They’d spent the last three summers in France and while Hermione did enjoy the country and seeing her grandparents, she hoped to spend at least a little time at home in Britain.

“The practice will survive without us for a month or so – no one’s getting their teeth cleaned in the summer anyways. They’re all too busy sunbathing and traveling,” said Dan, flipping a pancake over.

“As much as I love Gran and Gramps, I thought I’d spend a majority of my time this summer preparing for my O.W.L.s. I hoped to be able to go into Diagon Alley for books if I needed and I’m afraid I won’t be very fun to be around,” said Hermione, putting her fork down and pushing her plate away from her. Jean frowned at Hermione’s barely touched breakfast.

“I had a feeling you might not be keen on going—” Jean pushed Hermione’s plate back in front of her “—I hadn’t told you yet, but your father and I received a letter yesterday.”

“A letter?” Hermione’s pulse quickened – she’d artfully hidden the letter Hogwarts sent out to parents about the events of the Triwizard Tournament. How on earth was she supposed to explain to them that a student had died? Better yet – how was she supposed to explain to them that the darkest and most vile wizard Britain had ever known was back once again? They’d ask questions. They’d want answers. But most importantly, they might think twice about allowing her to go back to Hogwarts and she very well couldn’t let that happen. So, when her mother mentioned a letter, Hermione worried for a moment that perhaps Hogwarts had decided to start sending out letters through the muggle post as well.

“Yes, from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. She opened her mouth to ask why they hadn’t given her the letter, but her mother spoke again, reading her mind.

“It wasn’t for you. It was for your father and I. They wanted to ask if it was alright if you came and stayed with them this summer holiday. Apparently, your friend Ron misses you,” said Jean, giving Hermione a wry grin.

“He does?” asked Hermione in surprise.

“Yes, it seems so.”

“Did…” Hermione paused, swallowing thickly. “Did they mention anyone…else, or anything?” she asked, feeling a tightness in her chest.

Her mother cocked an eyebrow. “No. Why?”

“No reason—” Hermione let out a shaky laugh “—I was curious if Harry was there yet or not.”

Jean nodded, but the look in her eye told Hermione that she didn’t believe her for a second.

“Anyway, your father and I wanted to wait to respond until we spoke to you.”

“Oh…well—" Hermione chewed the inner corner of her bottom lip “—can I think about it?”

“Really?” asked her mother looking slightly taken aback.

“No need to put up false pretenses for our sake, Hermione. We know you’d much rather spend your summer with your friends, than in France with us and your Gran’s five cats,” said Dan, placing a plate of food down in front of his wife and taking a seat with his own.

“Crookshanks does dislike them…” commented Hermione, looking over to where her fluffy orange cat sat on top of the refrigerator. His tail twitched back and forth as he stared down at them with a bored yet scrutinizing look.

“See, exactly. Nothing to think about!” exclaimed her father.

“Only if you two are sure. I’d hate for you to think I don’t want to spend time with you,” Hermione said, feeling both guilty for leaving her parents so soon, and nervous for spending the rest of the summer at the Burrow.

“Nonsense. We know you love us, honey. Go have fun with your friends! I think it might be good for you.” Her mother’s words were light and kind, but Hermione could tell that there was a deeper meaning behind them.

“Alright, I’ll go upstairs and pen a letter now.” Hermione scooted out of her chair, placed a quick kiss to her mother and father’s cheeks, and sprinted up the stairs to her room. When she reached the solitude of her four walls, a wave of anxiety overtook her. Hesitating in front of the white-painted desk of her youth, she contemplated for a moment whether she truly did want to spend the rest of her summer with the Weasleys. Or more accurately, one Weasley in particular. Sitting down on the small wooden chair, she allowed her mind to drift back to that night. The night of the Yule Ball.

Truly a night to remember, Viktor was more of a gentleman than Hermione could have ever imagined. She felt like Cinderella on the night of the ball, arriving in a beautiful gown and spending the evening on Prince Charming’s arm as everyone stared and gawked. She relished in the dumbfounded looks on Harry and Ron’s faces as Viktor spun her around the dancefloor. And Viktor was an excellent dance partner – not quite as good as Fred due to his general lack of grace on the ground, but still fantastic, nonetheless. But his prowess as a date didn’t end at dancing. He was complimentary, considerate, good-humored, and an enthusiastic conversationalist. Needless to say, by the time the Weird Sisters were on their fourth song, she was quite taken with Viktor Krum. So, when he locked eyes with her as a ballad played on, Hermione found no reason to object or run away. She wanted Viktor to kiss her. Unfortunately, before his lips could connect with hers, a nearby couple bumped into them, breaking the moment and also Hermione’s calm demeanor.

“Shall I get us some refreshments, Her-my-oh-nee?” asked Krum. Hermione blushed, touched that he had taken the time since they’d last spoke to practice her name. He’d gotten it right nearly every time that night.

Hermione nodded, allowing Krum to lead her off of the dance floor and over to a nearby table. “I’m actually going to use the loo. Meet you back here?” she asked, feeling a rush of warmth overtake her.

Krum nodded before turning and heading in the direction of the refreshment table. Hermione turned, exiting the ballroom, and walking towards the long hallway that held the girl’s lavatory. However, she’d only made it a few meters when a tightness formed in her chest and the world began to shift on its axis. Bracing herself against the stone wall to her left, she breathed slowly trying to calm herself, but it was no use. The air around her felt stifling and her dress was suddenly two sizes too small. Spotting a terrace across the hall, Hermione ran to it, flinging the French doors open and allowing the icy air to envelope her. She leant forwards on the stone railing, already covered in a light smattering of snow, and closed her eyes.

I just almost kissed Viktor Krum, she thought in delight. I just almost kissed Viktor Krum, she thought to herself again, this time in abject horror. Her first kiss. She’d just almost had her first kiss and gave it no thought! Was she even ready for her first kiss? She was 15. Weren’t most girls having there first kiss at 15? Hermione hated to admit she wasn’t quite sure. She didn’t know the first thing about kissing and dating. In fact, she didn’t know how to kiss at all…Oh dear, what if Viktor tried to kiss her again? What if she mucked it up? The mortifying thought grew larger and larger in her mind as she continued to stand in the freezing cold, until it was the only thing she could think about. So far trapped in her own head, Hermione didn’t hear the French doors to the terrace open behind her.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” yelled a familiar voice, breaking Hermione from her thoughts and making her jump. Her heeled feet slipped on a slick spot on the terrace and she grabbed onto the railing in front of her more firmly. Bringing a hand up to her pounding heart, she turned to see Fred.

“Merlin Fred, you scared me!” she exclaimed, taking in the sight of him. He wore a dashing set of midnight black dress robes and a purple tie. A tie that matched the deep purple of his date’s dress. Of Angelina Johnson’s dress. The sting of his extended invitation to the Gryffindor chaser was still slightly fresh. It had been stupid of her to think, for even a moment, that when Fred swore she’d receive a second invitation to the ball he meant himself. Even if he did say it after detailing just how beautiful he thought she was. She should have known they were empty words meant only to make her feel better. Still, she couldn’t help but get swept up in the moment – alone in a corridor, in front of a portrait that only he knew calmed her racing mind, with him lamenting sweet words of her lioness mane and ferocity.

“What are you doing out here?” Fred asked, taking a few steps away from the doors.

“Nothing…Viktor went to get drinks and I needed a bit of fresh air,” Hermione half-lied. She really had no desire to subject Fred to another one of her trivial problems. But this was Fred, and much to her dismay he’d become the easiest person to talk to in her life. So, when he gave her that look – the look he gave her when he knew she was lying – she couldn’t help but spill every bit of her soul.

“Oh god, Fred. I don’t know what to do!” she cried, bringing a hand up to rub at her temple, hoping it would bring her some form of mental clarity. Pushing away from the railing, she began to pace back and forth. Her whole body felt on edge, like she could burst into a full sprint and it still wouldn’t be enough to burn off the anxious feeling of self-doubt.

Fred caught her by the shoulders, bringing her to a stop in front of him. “What happened? What’s the matter?” he asked in worry, his eyes tracing up and down her person. Hermione noticed he did that a lot these days – scan her as if he were searching for something. It always put her on edge, making her wish that he’d look away and also never stop.

“Nothing, well no that’s not true. It is something, but it hasn’t necessarily happened yet and I—”

“Just tell me why you’re out here trying to freeze to death, please Hermione,” said Fred firmly. Hermione was grateful for him halting her racing words.

“I…” she hesitated, unsure of how to say what was on her mind. But ultimately, she concluded that simplicity was probably in her favor. “What if he tries to kiss me?” she asked in embarrassment, eyes falling to her feet and the building snow around them.

“I mean, you kiss him back. If that’s what you want and if it’s not what you want, then kick him in the shins. You’ve got a killer kick – I can attest to that personally,” said Fred plainly.

Hermione smiled at Fred’s attempt to use humor to diffuse her worries, but still it didn’t quell her racing mind. Looking up into the depths of his hazel eyes she confessed her deepest worry, “I just…I was dancing with him and there was a moment where I thought he might kiss me and then someone interrupted us and so we didn’t. But I had the realization that he might try to kiss me again and I’ve never kissed anyone before. What if I’m bad at it, Fred?”

Fred looked back down at her, his face twisting inscrutably. “It’s a first kiss – everyone’s first kiss is a little awkward.”

Hermione knew he was right, but she had opened the flood gates and the silly intrusive thoughts left her mouth without giving any time for her brain to process them, “Yes, but what if I’m so bad that he never wants to kiss me again? I just…I don’t know what to expect or what to do and I—”

Soft lips pressed against her own, stopping her blabbering and also her brain. The reality that she was being kissed by Fred Weasley was completely lost on her in that moment. Instead the only thing she could comprehend was the firm warmth of lips against her own. The hands that had gripped her shoulders moments before made their way in opposite directions – one sliding up to cup her face while the other wrapped around her back and gripped her waist tightly. Hermione melted into the touch, feeling a fire ignite all across her body as Fred’s lips parted, taking her lower lip between his own. She moved in tandem with him, allowing him to take the lead. Truly she did not know why she’d been so worried about kissing Viktor. This was easy, Hermione thought as she parted her lips in a gentle sigh. Then she felt the wet warmth of Fred’s tongue swipe between her open lips and something in her broke. Reaching up she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting onto her toes to meet his kisses stroke for stroke in enthusiasm. Fred seemed to enjoy that, for he held her body tighter to his, allowing her to feel every hard plane of him through their clothes. He slid his tongue past her lips entirely then, meeting her own tongue tentatively. Hermione welcomed the invasion, a small whimper escaping the back of her throat. She wanted more, needed more.

But she didn’t get more. Instead, Fred broke the kiss, pulling away from her harshly. Hermione released her hold on his neck as he stepped back, putting her at arm’s length. Her breaths came in harsh pants as she stared up at Fred. She knew for a fact she must look like an absolute mess. She could feel the blush on her face and chest, and the swell in her lips. But Fred. Fred looked completely fine. Unbothered almost. The only evidence of their kiss, the slight pink tinge to his lips.

Fred cleared his throat, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head. “There. Now you know what to expect.”

“What?” asked Hermione dumbly, unable to process his words after what had just happened.

“You were worried about messing up your first kiss and not knowing what to expect. Now you know,” explained Fred casually.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Thank you,” she mumbled, unsure of what else to say. “Well, I should be getting back inside. Viktor’s probably waiting for me.”

She didn’t wait for Fred to reply. Instead Hermione stepped around him and headed back into the castle, feeling the icy sting of her cold flesh as the warmth of the stone walls surrounded her once again.

A tapping on her window broke Hermione from her memory. Looking to her right she saw the familiar sight of Errol standing on her window ledge, a letter in his beak. Hermione opened the window, allowing the bird to enter. She gave him a treat in exchange for the letter and paused when she saw that it wasn’t one letter, but two. Opening the first she saw Ron’s familiar messy scrawl.

Dear Hermione,

Mum says she sent a letter to your parents three days ago through the muggle post. Have you gotten it yet? If not, it says that you’re invited to come and spend some of the summer holiday with us. If you have, please respond to this letter via Errol. You won’t believe what’s going on! I can’t say much through by letter, but I’ll explain everything once you get here.

Sincerely,

Ron

Hermione scrunched her brow in confusion. What was going on at the Burrow that made Ron so insistent she visit this summer? She didn’t usually spend summers with the Weasleys. That was more Harry’s thing. Setting Ron’s letter down and picking up the second, she stared at it with trepidation. Was it from Fred? Delicately she tore open the envelope and read:

Dear Miss Hermione Brunhilda Granger (Fred and I didn’t know your middle name, so we took a wild guess),

Ron’s told us that our mum and dad have invited you to spend the summer with us, but that you haven’t written back. What’s keeping your response and why is it the fact that you’re hopelessly in love with me (George) and you don’t know how to tell me?

No, but seriously. Please come stay with us this summer. I don’t think you’ll want to miss out on what’s going on here. Considering you’re the busy, nosy sort.

Yours truly,

Fred and George

George and Fred

P.S. – We’ve been doing a lot of inventing and we really would like your help and input.

P.P.S. – Fred’s been a mopey git lately and I need you to come and help me put him in a better mood.

Hermione stared down at the two letters in front of her for a very long time. So long in fact that Errol grew impatient and nipped harshly at her hand.

“Ouch! Errol,” she scolded the bird, picking up her quill and two spare pieces of parchment.

Dear Ron,

Tell your mum and dad that I’ve spoken with my parents and would be happy to join you and your family for the remainder of the summer holiday. My parents are to leave for France in a week’s time. Would Saturday, the 17th work?

Best,

Hermione

She finished the letter quickly, signing her name and placing it into an envelope addressed to Ron. Then picking up the next piece of parchment, she took a moment longer to stare hard at the blank page before putting ink to parchment. She could do this. All she had to do is pretend like nothing was wrong.

Dear George and Fred,

I’m afraid you’ve figured me out. I’m hopelessly in love with you George and have decided that I can’t take the distance between us any longer. Therefore, I will be spending the rest of the summer with you and your family. I hope we can use this time to explore our undying love for one another. Please, refrain from breaking my heart.

On a more serious note – I should have known that you two only wanted me for my brain. You realize at some point you’ll be responsible for your own inventions without my help. Yes?

Either way, I guess it won’t hurt for me to take a look at these new products of yours. You know, to make sure you haven’t mucked them up entirely.

Best,

Hermione

P.S. – Have you considered Fred’s only mopey because he’s jealous of our timeless love?

P.P.S – My middle name is Jean.

She finished, hoping the short letter held enough joking and light-heartedness to match George’s and seem normal. The last thing she needed was for anyone to find out that she was helplessly in love with not George, but Frederick Weasley.

***

“See, I told you she was in love with me, Freddie,” remarked George, placing Hermione’s letter down on the old wooden desk. A puff of dust floated up into the air as soon as the parchment hit the surface. Despite their mother’s best efforts, every surface of the ancient Black home still leeched grime and dirt. They’d spent the last two weeks, ever since they got back from school really, deep cleaning and attempting to bring the childhood home of Sirius Black back to life. However, Fred was beginning to feel as though it was a futile effort. Every surface cleaned, revealed a new layer of grit and dust just for them to clean again. It was beginning to weight heavily on Fred’s nerves. What was the point of having all those galleons Harry gave them from the tournament and more ideas than they knew what to do with, if they didn’t have any time to actually work on anything?

He almost wondered if his mum was doing it on purpose. Heaven forbid they spend a single moment not dedicated to clearing out pixie infestations and polishing furniture. Who knows what they’d do if left up to their own devices – why they very well might invent something that made them incredibly rich and successful? Well, their dear mum couldn’t have that, no. Not when the means of their success came from less than reputable avenues like jokes and pranks.

“She’s not in with love you, you smarmy git. If anything, she’s humoring you,” said Fred, taking advantage of their free morning to do some research for their new line of products. George, on the other hand was more preoccupied with testing out some of the few items they’d been able to successfully create. Absentmindedly, he picked up the pair of Extendable Ears and began to untangle the line between the two ends.

“Someone’s still in a right fowl mood. You know, we can’t all be lucky enough to have girlfriends. Some of us still have to play the field,” said George casually, successfully untangling the Extendable Ears and leaning against the desk, crossing his arms.

“For the last time, I’m not in a fowl mood or mopey. I’m busy.”

“Ah yes, busy. Too busy inventing and writing your girlfriend to have a bit of fun. You know, if I knew that this business idea would turn you into Percy, I never would have suggested it. What’s the use of inventing prank items for a living, if you don’t know how to have fun anymore?”

Fred looked up at his twin brother in offense. “Compare me to Percy again and I’ll show you just how wrong you are, Georgie,” Fred warned, throwing his book down onto the messy bed and rolling over to lie on his back.

George crossed the room, standing next to the foot of the four-post bed and leaning against the ornately carved wood. He stared down at Fred, giving him a look that Fred was trying very hard to ignore. Times like this he very much disliked having a twin – it wasn’t always great having someone know every sordid detail of your life and your feelings.

“Still haven’t heard back from Angelina then?” asked George, although it came out as more of a statement, really. Fred shot him a look that clearly stated that they both already knew the answer. “Well, I mean – she is at that quidditch camp thing…right? Maybe she’s not getting your letters?”

It was a suggestion George had made after Angelina neglected to respond to his second and third letter. After the fourth, Fred had decided to just give up. If Angelina cared any at all about his summer, she would write back. He sighed, bringing a hand up to run through his newly cropped hair. The first thing they’d done with the money Harry gave them was go and get proper haircuts. Harry Potter – what a saint. The mad boy didn’t have to go and give them all of his Triwizard Tournament winnings, and they genuinely tried to turn him down. It was much too much money. But he had insisted, saying he already had all the money he needed, and he didn’t feel right keeping it. He and George didn’t hold the same qualms.

“Look on the bright side, Freddie. Hermione’ll be here in a week and then we can use that big brain of hers to finish off some of these inventions,” said George, sitting down on the bed next to Fred and pulling out a piece of taffy from his pocket. Fred watched him unwrap the colorful candy before popping it into his mouth. “And she’ll have all the time in the world to do it, since her little Bulgarian boyfriend won’t be taking up all her time. Relationships really do muck up everything…” George lamented, rolling his eyes, and chewing thoughtfully.

It was true. After the Yule Ball, Hermione had been distinctly absent from the little forgotten classroom they used to house all their work. It had started small – her reasons for not hanging around. At first, she was busy with the upstart of classes again. Then, she needed to help Harry with the second task. Eventually, it was Viktor wanting to study in the library with her or accompany her to Hogsmeade weekends. One reason after another for her not to see them, to help with their inventions or to just hang out. A small part of him wondered if that was his fault. Maybe his kiss at the Yule Ball had offended her so much that she was purposefully avoiding him. But he knew Hermione, if she had considered the kiss to be any kind of insult or affront, she would have made it known. But instead, she thanked him and hadn’t brought it up since. Most likely for the best, he thought. Still, despite his nagging guilty conscience, there was the possibility that Hermione was just truly busy. Merlin knows he had been busy too.

The Yule Ball had solidified his and Angelina’s relationship. They walked the halls hand in hand. He carried her books between classes. They spent afternoons walking the grounds, talking, and kissing. Every Hogsmeade weekend was spent together. It was…nice. Angelina was a great girl, and the relationship was easy. Sure, it took quite a bit of time away from his other endeavors like pulling pranks with George and concocting products, but he supposed the sex that came with it more than made up for it.

“Yes, I’m sure having Hermione here will be much more convenient. So long as she hasn’t replaced Viktor Krum for our little brother,” spat Fred bitterly, surprising even himself with his harsh tone.

“What makes you think she’ll even give him the time of day now?” asked George, raising an eyebrow.

Fred scoffed. “Please, why do you think she broke up with Krum at the end of the school year?”

“You don’t think someone other than our baby brother could have been the cause of that?”

“Who else could it have been?” questioned Fred, giving his twin an exasperated look.

George stared at him hard for a moment before shaking his head with a small smile and answering, “No one. You’re probably right. I mean, who else could break up the happy couple but an obnoxious Weasley git?”

Fred tried not to focus on the double-meaning laced within George’s words. He couldn’t know. There was no way he could know that he had kissed Hermione. Mainly because he hadn’t told him. He hadn’t told anyone. It wasn’t like him to keep things from George. In fact, it was an entirely foreign concept to him. He’d shared everything with his twin since before he could even comprehend the concept of privacy or boundaries. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope at George’s speculative statement. Did he know something that Fred did not? Shaking his head at the foolish thoughts, he picked up his book again and stared at the printed words. There was no reason to feel hopeful about anything. He was dating Angelina. Hermione had a crush on Ron. Their kiss had been nothing – inconsequential really. Was he physically attracted to Hermione? Sure, but that didn’t mean anything. He was physically attracted to a lot of people. He was human after all. Therefore, it shouldn’t bother him if she were to stare googly-eyed at his baby brother while she was there for the rest of the summer. And even if it did, it would only be because it took time away from her helping them with their products.

Roughly slamming his book closed once again, he looked to George who was currently picking at a loose thread on the bed’s duvet cover. “Wanna’ go see if we can levitate Ron’s shoes to make him float upside-down?” he asked.

George let out a large breath of relief, jumping from the bed with overt enthusiasm. “Thank Merlin. I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter 14>>>

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@aoonai

@sjh-07-10

@is-it-madness

@i-d-e-g-a-f

#fremione #fred weasley #hermione granger #fred x hermione #fanfic #fanfiction #slow burn #romance

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Text

Missin’ You is Terrible-Part 3: Fooled Around

Calum isn’t looking for deep feelings, just for some fun. But he’s pretty sure friends with benefits isn’t supposed to go like this. Black!Female Reader.

Enjoy my masterlist

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_________________________

I am not even five feet away from you. You do not have to text me.

Calum looks up from his phone, to her--brown eyes, rich brown skin, black hair. She’s sitting in her backyard, at the small desk she set up outside, half her manuscript printed out next to her. The cursor on her screen blinking at her to finish the thought. But she is staring at him, her lips quirked into a bemused smirk. She is staring at him and Duke, who rest at Calum’s feet, enjoying the warmth of the wooden deck, soaking into his back. She is staring at the shy smile that takes over Calum’s face, the little scrunch to his cheeks and crinkle around his eyes. She listens to the soft chuckle that escapes his lips as he reaches out for her, wiggling his fingers. She is captivated by his shyness and allured by his softness.

“Then why did you text me back?” Calum quips, still signaling for her.

“Because I am working and maybe too lazy to turn around.”

“And yet, you did so anyway.”

She flips him off, turning back to her computer. Calum laughs at the action and pushes from the steps he’s seated, navigating around Duke. He kneads at her shoulders, kissing the crown of her head. It’s not like beautiful days aren’t a common occurrence in LA, but this past week has been too good to Calum. His days are spent watching her write, watching her edit, writing his own stuff. He gets to wake up next to her; gets to fall asleep next to her. He gets to cook for her. They do laundry together, clean while jazz blares over her speakers.

She melts under his touch, firm enough, but never too hard on her muscles. Plucking away at the keys, she tilts her head, cheek brushing up and down on his fingers. Calum chuckles at the gesture before pinching the fat on the side of her face. “You’re supposed to be writing,” she mutters, cheeks still between his fingers.

“I’m helping you,” he says, releasing the flesh. “Clearly.”

“Clearly,” she laughs. Duke barks, running down the steps of the porch, chasing after a bird. They watch him run in the grass until the bird wises up and flies off. Duke stops, watching, waiting. He watches the bird flying. She watches him and Calum watches her. He wishes he could bottle this moment, pack it nicely into a cube, carrying it with him everywhere. So he could never be down, so whenever things did get bad, he could pop it open and be reminded of her smile, of the way her lashes curl as she blinks. Be reminded of the way she inhaled, the way her chest rise with the action, the way her fingers curled around his. So he could always be reminded of her, though it’s not like he already wasn’t. The wind blowing a certain way made him swear he caught a whiff of her scent in his nostrils.

She turns back to her screen, fingers slipping from around his. Calum walks down to the grassy backyard, but not before grabbing the red ball. The second Duke spots it in Cal’s hand, he perks up, already on alert. Cal gives it a gentle toss, the pup sprinting after it. Yeah, if he could bottle this moment up, he would. If he could drown in it, he’d fight every instinct for oxygen. There’s nothing like this. Duke drops the rubber ball at Calum’s feet, eager for the next throw, eager to push his legs over the grass.

__ “I can’t believe this. You really--,”

“Yes,” she interrupts him, swiping her thumb under his eyes. “Yes I really did. Do you know how easy it was to get your family on board with this? All them extended their houses. I was flooded with emails--all eager to help you.”

Calum pushes up from the chair, pulling her over the table to him. She said that months ago--promised him on her living room floor that she’d take him to New Zealand. It’s not that he didn’t believe her. He just didn’t think it’d happen now. But it makes sense. Tour is done. All his other obligations are months from now. He finally gets a chance to breathe. She scoots out around from the corner of the table. He buries his face into her shoulder, arms wind so tight around her that they meet the other side of his chest.

Something is salty against his lips when he pulls back. His vision is a watery mess. He’s crying-no he’s weeping. Sobs are pressing, squeezing his chest. “Baby, it’s okay. It’s okay,” she soothes, grabbing napkins to clean his face. He knows it’s okay. It’s more than okay. He just can’t stop himself, there’s no words to express how overjoyed he is. She’s doing this all for him. Something he’s always wanted to do; all for him. He wraps her into a hug again. She gently rocks him side to side, trailing her fingers through the shaved sides and back.

“I’m always good on my word,” she chuckles.

“God, I’ve gotta pack. What about Duke?” he asks, pushing away from her. His mind races now. He needs someone to watch his house. So does she, or at least someone to come around and water all her plants. She’s such a gardener, if her plants were to die while away, she would be crushed.

“I thought of this. Just take a breath. Finish your pie, we got time. Flight’s in two days.”

Calum nods, exhaling and finally takes the napkins from her. He stares down at the plane ticket. His chest ignites again, his eyes water yet again. “You’re fucking incredible, you know?” he whispers to her. He doesn’t bother wiping the tears. They don’t matter to him, they don’t change meaning if he clears them away. His chest bubbles, his lips curls, his tongue presses into bottom row of his teeth with three words threatening to spill over his throat. But he stops himself, he pulls his tongue back, he straightens as best he can the wobble to his smile. He can’t say those words just yet.

It feels right, though, he could. He could say it right now. Should he? She starts wiping his cheeks again, pressing short pecks to his reddening cheeks. He grabs her face, pulling her into his lips. It’s salty, the meeting of their lips, due to his tears. But she smiles, that makes it sweet. He can’t say it right now. But he can show it. He can show all the love he feels, even if he’s terrified of the words spilling pasts his lips.

__ He knows it hasn’t been that long. A few months at the absolute most, but by God, the boy looks half a foot taller. Calum rubs his eyes looking at his cousin, laughing. “When did this happen? I blink and you’re sprouting like a tree.” He wraps the boy in a hug.

“Just trying to be like you,” the boy grins. The hug last a long moment, but no one minds. His aunt and uncle crowd around, eager to greet, but patient enough. This is a moment she wishes to bottle, though the air has a slight chill to it and her jacket is just thick enough to keep the majority of the chill out. But the smile on his face makes her chest warm. The way his family wraps him in close to their bodies, grins wide, laughs falling from lips easily. This is the laughter of reunion, the ‘oh my god it’s been so long and you’ve grown so much’ laugh. It’s the ‘the gods have lined up and I’m actually seeing you in the flesh and by god I am elated to see you’ laugh. It’s the ‘if you don’t give me a hug to make sure you’re actually real’ laugh. The awe on his cousin’s face let’s her know they needed this just as much as he needed it.

She’s the last to be hugged, and profusely apologized too. “We swear we’re not rude,” his uncle laughs, hugging her.

“It’s quite alright. It’s about him anyway.”

In the car, Calum watches intently at the rolling hilltops as they travel down the road. His fingers are thread through hers, thumb brushing over the skin of her hand. She watches him, watching the scenery. She wonders what he’s thinking. It’s breathtaking for sure. The air feels different in her lungs. But she wonders what is this is doing specifically for him. She squeezes his hand. Calum turns to her, a soft smile resting on the corners of his lips.

“It’s beautiful. Now that I can actually sit down and see it. I love it,” he says. She nods in agreement.

“Have you ever seen a Haka?” Calum’s cousin directs to her.

“Not in person. Just online.”

“Has Calum taught you any Maori?”

“Not yet.”

“Is he really as cool as people say he is? I know he’s a rockstar or whatever. But,” the boy raises his eyebrows.

She laughs, but nods at the question. Calum’s not paying attention, having turned his gaze back to the grassy hillsides. It’s soon replaced by city streets and sidewalks and the bustle of city life. But even if all the slabs of manmade infrastructure the trees are still powerful and towering.He inhales deeply as they exit the car. Yeah, here is different. Here is reaching through the depths of him, touching something he’s always felt distantly there. Always brushed his fingers over it but never firmly grasped it into his hands.

Is he ready to grasp it now? Can he? He feels a little like a fraud, he embraced it so powerfully before. But as time has gone on, he’s swallowed it back down. So many times he’s been called Asian, too many times he’s felt himself and others brush aside his Māori blood. Is he a fraud? Or is he just still that seventeen year old boy who’s had his trust shattered? Once so connected but battered down by time, once so trusting but hurt by the very arms he fell into. His lower lip wobbles.

Her voice is soft in his ear. “Hey, earth to Calum.”

He shakes his head, blinking back the start of tears. “Sorry, just thinking.”

Her nails run down his arm, threading her fingers through his. “Do you want to be left alone? I already put your bag inside. They’re prepping us some food.”

No. Maybe. “Just for a moment please?”

“Of course.” She kisses the back of his hand before unraveling her fingers. The door closes quietly behind her. Calum looks to his hand, his mother’s initials staring back at him. He wishes she was here. She’d tell him that it doesn’t matter how his journey of self-acceptance went, doesn’t matter if he feels like he’s regressed, as long as he still takes the journal. Maybe that’s true. Now he wishes she was here, she’d reassure him, she’d wrap him into a hug and rock him gently.

Calum turns to the front door and steps into the house. It’s warm, smells like home, feels like home. His cousin smiles at his entrance. He steps through the narrow hallway and standing there next to his uncle is his mother. His knees falter right then and there and he leans into the wall next to him for support. “Mum?” Calum’s voice is so quiet it’s barely audible.

She smiles, opening her arms wide. “I been waiting for you,” she laughs, striding over.

As they hug, Calum feels like a child again, he buries his face into her shoulder, letting the tears slip down his cheeks. “Oh my God. I’m so happy to see you.”

“Hmm, me too, Calum. Me too. Always happy to see my boy.”

“I love you,” he whispers, only for her to hear, only for her to latch onto.

“I love you too.”

Later, they sit in the living room, watching TV. Calum’s got an arm around both her and his mother. They recline into him on either side. This is what he needs. Just time to sit in quiet moments. He can tell by the deep breathes that she’s fast asleep, so he wraps his arm tighter around her body, gently rubbing at the base of her neck, right at the edge of her hair line. She loves that spot in particular. “Mum?” he starts softly.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not being more vocal like I used to be about us. I’m not ashamed. I want you to know that. I guess, I’m just, I grew tired of always been mislabeled. I grew tired of being different.”

She smiles at Calum, resting her head onto his shoulder. “We all grew tired. The trick is to find your energy again. Find a way to become reconnected. And I think that girl in your arms is the answer to that question.”

Calum looks down to the sleeping body snuggled into his side. Maybe she is the answer. “I love her,” he says. It’s easier to say to her unconscious body. She doesn’t have to say it back. He doesn't need her too. He’s not even sure he wants her too right now. He wants to linger in this moment, the reality of the words, but without the expectation for reciprocation. He will linger here, in the freedom of finally letting himself fall, knowing that there’s a net to catch him.

There’s a knock on the door. Calum snaps awake, instinctively pulling her body closer to him. The door creaks open and Joy pops her head in. “Sorry,” she whispers. “Still some sleepyheads, I see.”

Calum chuckles. “We can be awake bodies in a minute.”

Joy chuckles, waving at him. “Rest.” Then she shuts the door.

Calum rests his head back onto the pillows, eyes closing, right as a muffled voice whispers into his hear. “Think she noticed I’m not wearing a bra or a shirt?”

Calum chuckles. “We’re adults. It doesn’t.”

“I hope it’s not too lame, but there’s this museum I think we should check out.”

“Are you saying we but really mean you want to check out?”

“Maybe,” she huffs with a sleepy chuckle.

“Tomorrow?”

“Deal.” They hook pinkies, and then drift back to sleep. When they wake again it’s about one. They get dressed and head downstairs. Calum’s cousin is eager to show them around. So they bundle up before starting out of the house. Calum watches the way she asks questions, the way she tries the words on her tongue. They fall awkwardly from her lips, but after a couple tries she finds her way. He watches the way she takes in the scenery around her. He wonders wha his feels like for her. Is she imagining the battles that might’ve taken place right here on this very grass? Is she thinking about the Maori women and men that walked here before her, trying to piece together their story? What pushed them here? Were they just traveling? Did she wonder what business they attended to? He know he did. He wondered all those questions and more.

“So yeah, silver ferns are a big deal. But Calum’s got fucked up, so here we are,” the boy chuckles pausing at a bench in the park.

Calum lets the jab go with a shake of his head. He knows the tattoo was not executed well. But it’s the thought that counts. She settles onto the bench next to the younger boy. They talk, she asks about school, what his favorite subjects. He asks what it’s like to be in a publishing firm, still writing her own work. Calum doesn’t say much, watching the exchange, the ease at which she listens to the boy speaks, the way she listens to understand not just respond. They land on the topic of her most recent project, but she shies away from too many details. “Basically,” she starts, “I’m retelling events from the future perspective. So I’m telling a story as present me to past me with all the things we should’ve said or done to see how the events would turn out differently.”

“So you’re basically time traveling?”

She nods. “Yeah in a way. But it’s not fiction full fledge science fiction, or really fiction. It’s a weird mixture of creative nonfiction and elements of science fiction.”

“It sounds interesting. So are you then showing how things change with the information?”

“I thought about it. But that might push nonfiction too far into fiction, which is not what I want to do. I want to it to be a dialogue.

“Can I read some of it? ”

“If you really want to, yeah, sure. Just pretend you know nothing of course.”

The boy chuckles. “I swear to take it to my grave.”

They talk for a little bit longer before wandering back to the house. The second Calum steps through the door he finds his family lined wall to wall, standing, waiting to greet him. The first sound of a stomp echoes in his brain long after the last cry is shouted, long after the tears cloud his vision. He doesn’t consider himself worth of such a greeting, not a haka. Not him, never him. He doesn’t even realize how caught up he got until he realizes how breathless is, until he feels the sweat rolling down his back in his sweatshirt.

He looks to find her, to see if he really did what he just did. She always grounds him. She’s panting too, grinning, hugging Joy into her side. “I got roped in,” she laughs. “But god was it beautiful. Is it weird to say I saw a rainbow, like a literal rainbow? I’m pretty sure some might call it a hallucination. But I swear to high heavens, I saw a rainbow over you guys in the beginning.”

“She wanted to join. I could tell,” his mom grins, hugging her tighter. “She caught on fast.”

His cousin holds out his phone. “Caught it all on tape for you, Cal.”

“Calum?”

He turns to the sound of his baby cousin calling him, feeling her tug on his pant leg. He picks her up with a smile then turns to the boy. “I’ll watch later. Thanks.” His throat is dry, his voice sounds shot. What did he do? It’s almost like his consciousness left him, flew straight out of his head and only re-entered once he was done. He remembers nothing. It’s like someone else took over his body. Maybe someone else did. Maybe he needed the hand of some ancestor to reach into his soul and unlock him fully.

His mother smacks his hand. It’s not hard. More like a gentle tap, a warning that he really should remove his hand. “You keep stealing pieces and we’re going to have none left.”

Calum laughs but retreats. “But your rēwena is the best,” he pouts.

“I know it is. Now out.”

Walking out of the kitchen he hears the shouts from a phone speaker. One particularly loud shout echoes above the rest. It sounds like him. But also not like him. Peering over the huddled shoulders, Calum watches himself. It’s him he’s staring at, but his gut tells him that it’s not him. It’s something deeper than them on that screen. It’s more than just joining his family in their greeting for him. It’s everything he’s been afraid of spilling over his throat. It’s the fear of sixteen year old him leaving everything he once knew behind. It’s the frustration of feeling himself disconnecting, but feeling like it’s his only option. It’s the terror of being lost, brushed aside, never understood.

Calum watches himself, teary eyed but smiling, as he lets it all out. As he finally feels welcomed. He’s home. A place always yearned for, but now felt. Then he finds her, in the corner following along with his mother. He would’ve never had this moment of freedom if not for her. He would still be yearning, still be hurt. Not that he’s fully healed now, but it’s a start. Those words are bubbling again against his lips. He looks around the room for her, but then he remembers that she’s in the kitchen.

Calling out her name, he starts from the living room back to her. She meets him in the hallway, hands wrapped in a towel. “Is something wrong?” her eyes are a little wide.

The words are falling over his lips before he can stop them. He cups her face with his palms. He zeros in on the deep, almost black, brown to her eyes. “Kei te aroha au i a koe,” he breathes.

There’s a chorus of aww’s from his younger cousins. She waits, she thinks she knows what he said. “I am not sure what you said exactly. But I’m going to assume it’s sweet by the reaction it just got.”

Calum closes his eyes for a second, laughing at himself before kissing her lips. “I said I love you.” His lips brush over hers as he speak. It feels so right falling off his lips, over his tongue, pass his teeth. “I love you,” he says again kissing her lips. “I love you.” Kiss to her right cheek. “I love you.” He kisses her left cheek. “I love you.” One final kiss to her forehead.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, he knows. He didn’t plan for this to fall in love with her. This was just supposed to be for fun, someone he could enjoy company with and slide beneath the sheets with. They were only supposed to be be fooling around. But he went along, fooled around, and fell right the fuck in love with her. He’ll be damned if he pretends like it bothers him. He’ll be damned if he lies to her or himself about this. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t say it to her.

“Teach me,” she utters softly. “Teach me how to say it back.”

Calum shakes his head, her cheeks still warm beneath his palms. “You don’t have to say it back in M.”

“I want to. Because I feel the same way. Now how do I say it? I want to learn.”

Calum breaks it down piece by piece for her, watching the way her lips curl to form the words. Her first attempt isn’t great. He fights to keep the chuckle from bursting through. “Give that one more shot,” he encourages, kissing her hands now wrapped in his.

“Kei te aroha au i a koe,” she whispers.

He’s never heard a better phrase falling from her lips. “Perfect, you nailed it.”

“Are you guys done? I’m hungry,” comes one of cousins. They laugh and move out of the way, letting the kids by. Calum hugs her to his chest, burying his face into the top of her hair.

After all the museums and nurseries are visited during their visit, Calum and her sit out under the stars the last night before they leave. It’s beyond cold, but they wrap up in layers and huddle together under a blanket snagged from the hall closet. Every breath exhaled is a ghost escaping their nostrils. “Thank you,” Calum says. “I don’t think I can even begin to describe the experience I’ve had.”

“You’re beyond welcome. It’s amazing here. Your family is beautiful and I love them.”

“They are enamored by you. Everyone loves you.”

“I watched the video of the haka again. I still believe there’s a rainbow.” He disagreed with her upon rewatching it. But he did state that he wasn’t fully conscious during all of that, so he’s not the best judge. Others don’t see it, but she refuses to concede. “But I’m pretty sure your soul like ascended or something. That’s what I believe. Watching you even in that moment, I could tell something was taking over you.”

He nods, humming in agreement. “That’s probably better than I could ever describe it.” Then there’s another moment of silence. Calum ought to say more. He wants to say more. He’s just not sure how to say more. So he squeezes her body and she looks up. “I don’t think I’d have enough tongues to tell you thank you enough.”

Her smile is soft. “It’s alright. You can always try.”

Calum chuckles, leaning down. She captures his lips, her cold and his chapped by the unforgiving chill. He grazes his teeth over her bottom lip, pulling on it. She moans against his mouth, arms tightening around him. Their lips don’t say disconnected for long before Calum kisses her again. She swipes the tip of her tongue over his lips. Releasing a sigh, Calum parts his lips for her. One of her hands slips down his crotch, holding onto his thigh. He shivers a little at the touch and because the blanket starts to slip from around them. He’s normally a warm person, but even this chill bites as his skin.

She pulls away, throwing the blanket back over her body. “It’s cold.”

“Let’s head inside, yeah?” he breathes against her skin, brushing his nose along her jaw, pressing butterfly kisses to her neck. “Think you can keep quiet.”

“I’m less concerned about me and more concerned about you keeping quiet,” she chuckles.

“You’re right,” he laughs, resting his head onto her shoulder. He knows he can be particular vocal. She holds him tight, occasionally brushing her nails over her scalp. Calum wraps his arms around her waist as she reclines into the railing of the deck for support. “But it’s way too cold to do anything out here.”

“Guess we’ll just have to wait. What a shame.”

Calum closes his eyes, inhaling her scent. “I’m okay with that,” he murmurs. He’s not even sure that the sentence is audible. He’s okay with just sitting in this moment even though it’s cold. She makes him feel connected, feel at home, feel loved. She makes him warm on the inside.

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood 5sos #calum 5sos #5sos smut #5sos imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #h writes #michael clifford #luke hemmings #ashton irwin

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prongsisabadger · 3 years

Text

The Wolf Pack Chapter 15

The elevator doors opened onto the bridge. We had made it to the Abregado system a few minutes ago and Master Plo had requested my presence. The scanners had detected a massive ship orbiting the system, and now the fleet was moving into attack position in preparation for the coming battle. We had found Grievous' mystery weapon, and since the ship had no escort whatsoever and needed to be taken out, Master Plo decided to engage.

"Given the past history of this weapon, i think it wise to report our location before engaging the enemy." Said my master, turning to Wolffe for his opinion.

"General Skywalker is nearest, in the Bith system. I hear he's always ready for a fight." He commented.

"No wonder he got paired up with Ahsoka, they must be made for eachother." I smirked.

"Let's hope they are both in the mood for a little bit of action then." Answered Master Plo before turning on the communications.

"Koh-to-ya, Master Plo. Nice to see you in one piece 'Ari." greeted Ahsoka as soon as the hologram stabilized.

"Koh-to-ya, little 'Soka." returned my Master. "General Skywalker, we are in the Abregado system and have found Grievous' ship. We are in need of reinforcements."

"Well, Master, I will have to speak to the Council about it. I'm under strict orders to keep my position, I'll let yo- ow- s oon-" The communication got cut short.

The enemy was jamming us. Someone reported the enemy ship had moved into position and that a massive mass of energy was building up. Master Plo called for fire, but we were not in range yet. And then, the enemy fired. An ever expanding energy field shot through the entire fleet and took out all power. We were adrift in open space, defenceless and vulnerable. It was then that the enemy opened fire on the first ship, tearing it to pieces in seconds and sending all the leftover debris flying towards us and our third ship. I was shocked, confused, terrified at how quickly everything was happening. I could not believe how easy to break a ship of that size would be when left completely bare. The canon blasts had made it crumble like dry leaves inside a fist. It was a terrible sight.

"I want everyone in the escape pods NOW." Ordered Master Plo.

There was chaos, emergency lights glowed red and troopers everywhere ran towards the escape pods. There were men yelling, cursing, some even panicking. I tried my best to stay calm and ran towards one of the pods. I had been so out of it that I hadn't realized Art had come to find me. It was him who dragged me by the arm and got me inside the nearest pod. Two other troopers got in before someone closed the door and launched us into what was soon to become a graveyard.

Outside, some pods crashed into debris, others crashed into each other, and some even malfunctioned, unable to launch at all. The force was in disarray all around me. There was so much pain, so much fear, so much confusion and anger. It was so overwhelming. But we had made it, we had made it and I would make sure we survived until someone came looking for us. I would, I had to.

"Okay men, let's get to work," I said once the pod had stopped drifting. "We'll make propper introductions later. First we need to do a diagnosis of the pod, what we do and don't have. Next we'll get the communications running and send a distress signal. Hopefully, someone out there will receive it."

No one even tried to protest, we all wanted to survive, so we got to work immediately. Art ran diagnostics while the other two tried to get the power back on and I tried to hardwire the distress call.

"Okay, so here's what we are working with," started Art. "We have no power -as we already know- but I believe that if we rearrange the circuit we may be able to get it back on. We have no life support recharge, so once the oxygen we have is gone, that'll be it. But the communications system seems intact so we can probably get in touch with other pots and figure something out."

Our prospects were not good. Our chances at survival depended on whether someone came looking for us or not. I couldn't risk that, I needed to figure out a way to keep us all alive regardless.

"Are the scanners working, Art?" I asked.

"Yeah bit they are not very powerful." He answered.

"Okay men, I need you to get the power up and running, I may have an idea that could better our chances."

While working, the other two troopers told me their names were Happy and Twitch. This was their very first deployment. Art sighted and muttered something about shinies under his breath, but I ignored him as best as I could. Shinies or not, they were here with us, and they were Pack. After a few minutes and a lot of debate, they managed to get the power back on, and so, we could now turn our communications and scanners on.

"What should I scan for, Commander?" Asked Art as he started setting up.

"Fuel cells."

"Fuel cells? What good would fuel do us in an escape pod? It's not like we can fly this thing to the nearest fleet." Said Twitch.

"No, but undamaged fuel cells are probably still attached to a ship. I'm hoping that -if we can get our hands on a fighter in good enough condition- we can use it's longer range communications system and oxygen tanks." I answered.

It was a long shot, there was nearly no chance a ship had survived that attack, but we had to try regardless.

"Wouldn't it be more effective to scan for life forms and contact another pod?" asked Happy skeptically.

"And do what?, they would have the same problem we do. Our better choice is to improve our own situation and then help others," I said. "As things are right now, if we can't help ourselves, we can't help others either."

It was at that moment that a transmission came in. One of the pods was asking for help. They were under attack, the enemy was attempting to open their pod. They weren't far, in fact, when I use the Force to bring our pod around, we saw it. A separatist ship that looked like a gigant claw manned by four battle droids attached to one of our pods. They were trying to break it open, they wanted no survivors.

"Art, you are staying in here, keep the distress signal alive," I said, grabbing one of their helmets and putting it on. "The two of you are coming with me, we are taking out that ship."

"But Commander they haven't spotted us yet." Protested Happy.

"But they will eventually, and if there are other pods out there, we seed to make sure they don't find them." I said, making sure Art's helmet fitted me and the seal was working properly. "I won't be able to last too long out there, so we need to be quick." I said.

"Well, then you better get going, Commander. They have just spotted us."

The pressure was unbelievable. I had known all along that this would be a risky choice to make, but in all honesty, it had also been the only one I could make. My torso felt like someone had landed a cruiser on top of it, and breathing was difficult. And yet, I had a mission to accomplish. We ambushed the droids from all sides, blasting two of them and making the other two retreat. But they were compromising the pod, and Art's life with it. And I could not have that. At first I had had the intention of using the pod hunter for fuel and a boost in our comms, but when they started putting pressure on the pod I knew it wasn't going to work. I cut two of the claw's metal fingers and force pushed it away, making it collide with the debris from our fleet and explode.

We were compromised, and I was almost out of energy. The pressure of the vacuum of space was getting to me, I wouldn't last much longer. My ribcage would collapse and all of my organs with it. Or so I thought.

"Commander, another pod is signalling us! It's the General!"

But I could barely hear him. I didn't feel Happy grab me and hand me over to my Master. I didn't feel how both pods were towed into a shuttle. What I did feel was the release of all the pressure I'd been under. I felt how my lungs expanded again, how my heart started pumping faster now that the blood vessels were no longer under pressure. I could feel the blood running from my nose, my ears, even my left eye. But I couldn't hear anything. The silhouettes around me were just that. The only thing I felt was the probing of the medical droid and the warmth from a hand holding mine.

…

I woke up tired, cold and with a terrible headache. When I tried to sit, it felt like someone was stabbing me everywhere. So I groaned and gave up trying, it was too painful. Someone inside the infirmary started talking to me, but I was too concentrated in trying not to cry. I felt as if a giant had tried to squeeze the juice out of me like a meilooron.

"-ari. Child. Can you hear me? Kriari." The voice to my right started to register in my head and it took all I had just to turn my head.

Master Plo was there, looking intently at me. Waiting for me to come to my senses and maybe give him a sign I could hear him.

"Hello, Master." I whispered.

Talking took too much energy, it required too many muscles that just didn't feel like working right then.

"You had all of us worried, my Child." He said honestly.

Behind him, Ahsoka looked ready to burst into tears, and Commander Wolffe looked relieved to see me breathe.

"How many survived, Master? Where are my troopers? Art, and Happy and Twitch, are they-"

I winced sharply, as a shock of pain ran from my chest, all the way up my spine and into my head.

"They are okay, Commander. They are in their quarters, resting." Answered Wolffe.

"You are so stupid sometimes, Kriari. You almost died." Whispered Ahsoka. "If you ever do that again I won't forgive you."

I smiled at her fondly. She really had been scared for my life.

"Oh, shut up 'Soka, you would have done the same."

They stayed for a few more minutes, put me up to speed, told me the new plan to engage Grievous' Ion cannon before he attacked a medical station near Naboo. All the while, I listened silently. I wanted to go and help them, but I knew I couldn't, not in the condition I was in. So I stayed silent, listened to what they all had to say. Master Plo said my actions had been brave, but to be careful in the future. A Jedi could not risk their life so readily, they had to live to fight another day, for there were few of us. Then, they all left. All except for Wolffe.

"Anything to scold me about, Commander?" I teased, but he didn't smile.

"You lied to them." He took one look at my confused expression and then clarified. "Your troopers. You told them you could withstand the pressure."

Oh, that. I looked away, not wanting to have that conversation.

"General Plo Koon told me he had been trying to teach you that technique. That as far as he knew, you had never managed to master it." He accused.

"There were lives at ris-"

"That included yours, Kriari."

In the time I'd known Wolffe, or any member of the Pack for that matter, no one had ever addressed me by my name, always my title. He was angry.

"I was trying to protect everyone, Wolffe. I may be a Jedi but my life is not worth more than that of the clones." I said icily.

"It is to the war effort."

"I don't give a shit about the war effort, Commander." I snapped. "I am in this war because I have to be, and so are you, If we are going to fight and die in the process, then the least I can do is save as many of you as I can."

He looked away. If it was out of frustration, anger or shame, I didn't know. He took his helmet from a nearby table and made his way towards the door.

"Then at least let us return the favor."

#TWP #clone wars fan fiction #star wars the clone wars #plo koon #commander wolffe #captain rex #ahsoka tano #obi-wan kenobi #padawan!oc

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pookiethefrickinbunn · 4 years

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Let’s Hang Out Sometime

By: Pookiethefrickinbunn

@whumptober2020

Rating: Teen And Up

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Jefferson Davis

Fandom: Marvel, Spider-Man, Ironman, Avengers

Summary:

Peter was going to die here. He had come to that conclusion a few hours ago when he was still lucid, the building settling around him while he dangled from a steel beam. The vibranium cuffs that were locked around his wrists wouldn’t budge. And it didn’t matter how much the young vigilante pulled, he still couldn't free himself. He was stuck, hanging by his arms, in a construction site that was crumbling around him. His feet swung in the open air and Peter had no clue if he was a few inches from the ground, or a few yards. ------ Whumptober 2020 Prompt #1 Hanging/Shackled

Someone will find me. Peter thought. Someone has to know I’m missing.

***

It had been Fisk who had taken him. Or, his men. They had picked him off the street after Spider-Man had swung in to stop a small credit union from being robbed. (Though looking back now, Peter figured that was probably just a trap to lure him out.) He had been knocked out, and when he came to, he had woken up cuffed around a steel beam in what looked to be an unfinished parking garage.

Fisk had been there, giving Peter his villain monologue about how he was going to rid the city of the menace that Spider-Man was. How he was going to return the city to how it should be, and achieve true balance between civilians, criminals, police, and politicians.

The boy remembers rolling his eyes, letting out a wise-crack, and getting ready to spit out another sarcastic reply when suddenly there was a deep rumble that echoed throughout the building. In a flash, the world was tilting sideways and Peter found himself falling with the steel beam he was connected to. He was sure he saw other bodies falling as he fell, but he just seemed to keep going while everything else stopped.

And then Peter stopped.

The movement was harsh and the boy felt something in his shoulders pop and tear as gravity did it’s job. Black spots invaded Peter’s vision and the breath was stolen from his lungs as his body was tossed around like a rag doll. And then everything seemed to fade.

Peter wasn’t sure if he had actually lost consciousness, or if he was just in a different headspace as his body tried to understand what had happened to it. All he knew was that it was dark and the air was thick with dust and the smell of concrete. And then the pain began to bloom in his arms.

A sharp ache shot up the top of his shoulders and through his arms, and all Peter could do was let out a choked scream. He had dealt with a lot of different injuries while being Spider-Man, but this was something completely different. And while Peter screamed, he kicked his legs in the air, suddenly realizing that there was nothing below him. Suddenly a different kind of panic was overcoming the boy, and even though his body was reacting badly, there was a part of Peter’s brain that was telling him to calm down. A panic attack would do nothing to help the situation.

It seemed like a miracle that Peter could even do it, but after a few more screams, the boy found himself calming down. In no time he was silently hanging by his wrists. His arms were behind his back at an awkward angle and he was facing the direction of the floor. But based on how low he was hanging Peter was sure he had tore parts of his shoulder and arm. (And that was the best-case scenario.) They were probably broken.

That had been hours ago.

In that time Peter had taken stock of his situation. He was cuffed to a beam with vibranium cuffs. Fisk had his mask. No one knew where he was, just that he was out on patrol. He was in a collapsed (collapsing?) parking garage, and he wasn’t even sure if it was still stable. And he was hurt.

In the beginning Peter yelled for help, but he was quick to stop when it suddenly hurt to make any noise besides the short pants that were escaping his mouth. Now Peter was hurting all over. His arms and hands were numb. His shoulders screamed in pain and all the boy could do to help his predicament was try and stay as still as possible. The lack of oxygen Peter was getting along with the raging headache didn’t help either. He was suffocating. He was going to die here.

***

At first Peter thought he was hallucinating when he felt the beem shift. The boy’s entire brain felt like mush and he felt like he couldn’t hold a coherent thought. But suddenly he was sliding forward on the beam and in an instant the boy’s knees kissed the ground below him. It was a harsh landing, but the sob that escaped his mouth was one of relief as the pressure was taken off of his shoulders.

I can breathe.

***

“There’s someone over there!” A voice called out, cutting through the fog that was clouding Peter’s brain. The voice was loud and harsh and Peter physically recoiled as soon as it hit his ears. It was too loud. The sound of footsteps soon joined the voice and Peter let out a low whimper. Unfortunately in his predicament it only came out as a wheeze.

“Oh my God,” The voice said, now closer and suddenly a pair of legs were coming into Peter’s field of vision. The boy’s chin touched his chest, though, and he didn’t have enough strength to see who the legs belonged to. All he could do was let out another wheeze as he shifted slightly, the vibranium cuffs grinding softly on the metal.

“Hey, easy. Don’t move. You’ll hurt yourself,” the voice said, and suddenly Peter’s vision blacked out.

***

There were too many colors, too many noises. Peter felt a bright heat not too far away from him and the sound that came with it was deafening. The boy already felt like he was falling apart as a person, and the added stimulus was too much. He could feel his throat constricting in pain and in his haze, Peter wondered if he was screaming.

***

Lights were being shone in his eyes. Things were being strapped to his face, and shadows loomed over Peter as he felt his body being moved. He felt like he was underwater, unable to make out what was around him, not able to hear, and not able to breathe.

Stop. Make it stop.

***

Darkness.

Pain.

Peter was scared, and he could feel the panic building in his chest, but suddenly he felt a hand rest on him. He didn’t know exactly where it was, or who it belonged to. But the energy that radiated off of it made Peter feel safe and secure.

Darkness.

Pain.

But safe.

***

Waking up felt strange. It was like Peter’s body was restarting, one body part at a time. At first the only thing he could register was noise. The soft whirring and beeping of machines while voices talked softly in the background. A hospital. He had to be in a hospital.

“Seven hours. He was there for seven hours and no one knew where he was.”

“I know Tony.”

“We had to get a call from the NY-Fucking-PD telling us they had found our kid in a collapsed parking garage. He almost died. He should be dead, May!”

“You don’t think I know that!?”

“You gotta’ let me install some sort of tracking chip into him. Because we depend on his suit to do its job, only to have the system crash. It happens too often.” There was crying after that, and Peter tried to focus on his other senses to distract himself from what was happening in the room.

The next thing to come online was his sense of touch. He felt like he could feel everything. The uncomfortable sheets that were pulled around him, the dry air that was being pushed into his nose, and the way his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. A dull ache accompanied all of this and Peter did his best to ignore it.

Then, almost involuntarily, Peter’s eyes opened. An instant ache formed at the back of his eyes and the boy let out a choked sob as he tried to will away the pain. The sound immediately cut off the voices in the background and suddenly two familiar faces were in Peter's line of sight.

“Peter?”

“Hey baby. You’re okay, you’re okay,” May soothed as her hand made contact with Peter’s cheek.

“Hurts,” Peter found himself muttering, his voice weak and raw.

“I’m sure it does kiddo’. You’re a little worse for wear,” Tony chimed in, his calloused hand running through Peter’s hair.

“What happened?” Peter found himself asking, though he knew half of the answer.

“I don’t know kid. We were kind of hoping you could fill in the blanks. We just got a call from Officer Davis saying they were investigating a collapsed building when they found Spider-Man chained to a beam.” Tony hummed, doing his best to keep a calm tone as he spoke to the kid.

“Oh yeah,” Peter hummed before another question crossed his mind. “Who’s Officer-” The boy said, drawing out the last word as if he had forgotten what was coming next.

“Officer Davis was the policeman who found you. He made sure you were taken care of and he gave Mr. Stark a call,” May said, knowing what her nephew was trying to ask.

“But my mask,” Peter slurred, his eyes beginning to close involuntarily as he spoke.

“Don’t worry kiddie. I got NDA’s being signed left and right. We got it covered. Now why don’t you rest. God knows you need it kid,” Tony said, his hand still in Peter’s hair.

“Yeah. Okay,” the teenager sighed as he let himself slip back into the darkness, knowing both May and Tony would be there when he woke up.

#Whumptober2020 #Whumptober 2020 #No. 1 #Shackled #Hanging #Spiderman #Peter Parker #Iron Man #Tony Stark #domestic #Irondad #Spiderson #Broken Bones #Passing out #hospital #suffocating

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

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L&L - Chapter 30. Caught [Alec Lightwood x Reader]

Title: Love and Leather - Chapter 30. Caught ➔ Chapter 31. Here! Pairing: Alec Lightwood x Female!Reader Published: 23 June, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Love and Leather Masterlist | Masterlists

"Every part of my body wants you." He groaned in pleasure. You could see his eyes closing as you were teasing his skin seductively. While you kept hinting kisses along his neck, you started pulling out your wooden stake, from the leather strap on your thighs. However you were not too subtle about it and he realised something was wrong. You jumped back to stab him, but he got hold of your weapon. You quickly kicked him on the stomach and started running out of the alley. You didn't stop, you didn't look back. You ran as fast as you possibly could.

You didn't even realise the time, you just wanted to get away as far as you possibly could. After you felt like you have been running for eternity, you stopped in front of the Brooklyn market. You hoped he wouldn't try to get to you in such a crowded area. You took out your stele and activated your stamina, strength and speed runes. You needed all the available help, you could get. As you walked along the market, looking around frantically, you pulled out your phone and chose Izzy's profile from your speed dial. It was ringing for a few seconds, before she picked up.

"Hey." She greeted you happily, but you were unable to return it. You were still panting, trying to gather as much oxygen in your lungs as you physically could.

"Izzy, I need help." You unintentionally whispered. You knew he could have been anywhere and you didn't want him to know, you called for back up.

"Y/N, where the hell are you? And where is Blake?" She questioned, but you could hear she was getting ready. You could hear metals clinking in the background as she was gathering her weapons.

"I had no partner." You sighed. "Hodge told me that things have changed last minute." You explained. Fuck. You heard your parabatai silently swear. "I'm okay." You chuckled. "But I need help."

"I am coming. Where are you?" She asked quickly.

"Brooklyn market." You answered, but stopped in your tracks.

"I thought you were supposed to be at the Brooklyn bridge." She questioned your whereabouts. You faintly heard what she was saying, but you had no intention to concentrate on her anymore.

"Shit." You whispered as you recognised your attacker a few meters away. Y/N, is everything okay? You heard your parabatai over the phone, but you just couldn't care less. You needed to escape. Fast. You turned around and started running out of the market. You knew you should have faced him, but you were alone and way weaker, even with the angelic runes on you. You took a turn at the end of the market and started running towards a street covered in bright lights. Y/N, talk to me. What's going on? You heard Izzy over the phone, but you couldn't stop to talk and you needed your energy to run. You took another turn, but immediately stopped in your tracks when an unfamiliar face appeared in front of you.

"Where are we running?" He hissed, showing you his vampire fangs. You tried to avoid his hands, but he got hold of you.

"Let me go." You screamed at him, but he didn't budge. You kicked him on the stomach, which made him stumble back. You used your time wisely and quickly started running again. However he was faster. He grabbed your shoulder, pulled you back and grabbed your neck. He let out an evil laugh, before hitting your head into the wall. As you collided with the hard object, you felt like your skull was about to explode. The pain was unbearable and your scream proved that. You felt a hot liquid pouring down your face, but you couldn't even recognise its origin. You felt dizzy and you couldn't even stand on your own. You could hear your parabatai's voice coming from your phone, but it seemed farther than when it was in your hand.

"That was a bad, bad move." You heard the familiar voice getting closer to you, but you couldn't concentrate. Your vision was blurry and the grasp of the other vampire around your throat made it even harder to be present. "I thought we had something special." He said caressing your face gently. "But I guess I was wrong." He squeezed your face from both sides, almost breaking your jaw. You tried to get out of the vampire's hold, but you didn't even feel if your body was moving or it all went down in your head only. "You will curse the day you turned against me." He grinned, but you could only see the outline of his face. He stepped closer and gave you a kiss on your lips. You were present enough to feel disgusted and you spit on his face. However he did not take that well. He growled in anger and punched you on the stomach. You screamed in pain over and over as he repeated his movements. You just wanted it to be over. You didn't even care anymore if you died. You just wanted the pain to stop. Your body was laying on the ground, limp, but he didn't just let you go. "The fun is not over yet." He said grabbing your hair, pulling you back into a sitting position.

"Die, you bitch." You slurred, while your mouth was filling up with blood.

"That would be you." He chuckled and hid his face in your neck. You knew what was about to happen, but you didn't even care anymore. One way or another you just wanted to stop suffering. You had more broken bones than you could have imagined. Your concussion and your blood loss were working hard against you trying to stay awake. You couldn't even move your fingers, even if you wanted to. Let alone grabbing any of your weapons. Your mind was still fighting. At least to stay awake. But your body has given up. "I am going to enjoy this." He said licking your neck and plunging his needle sharp teeth into your vein. You screamed in agony, but he didn't seem to mind. As if it turned him on even more. He sucked your blood harder and stronger, before you could even comprehend how close your mind got to giving up. You completely lost control of yourself and you knew you could not have regained it.

"Please..." You whispered while coughing up some blood to clear you airways. You basically begged him to finish you off. You knew it was a coward move and this was not what they have taught you at the Academy, but you couldn't handle it anymore.

"Not that quickly." He chuckled as he pulled his fangs out of your vein, quickly licking it to close it down. "I have plans with you." He laughed out loud. Your brain however didn't register what he was saying. You tried to keep your eyes open and stay alert, but you were on your limit. Darkness fell upon you like waterfall. You had no choice, let alone energy to fight it. You gave in without hesitation.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to like the chapter. Thank you :)

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spottedlekkudancer · 4 years

Text

Lady of the Stars Part One - Contact

@paytonita @tranquility-or-chaos @inumorph

THIS IS A SW/Witcher CROSSOVER.

Geralt x Jedi!Reader

2.8K words

Originally planed on having 2 or 3 parts to this story but apparently I have diarrhea of the mouth and moved the plot too slow. So get ready to be strapped in for at least 4 if not 5 self indulgent parts. And feel free to send me all the questions you like.

Warnings: Adult language, mentions of death, violence, and other adult themes.

By whim or by destiny light catches your attention though fluttering lashes. It kisses your cheek with warmth and the subtleness of a gentle dawn. After a moment the fog of sleep sheds from your brain. You adjust. The orange glow crackles at your nose and you realize that you are in more peril than the lingering caress of your dreams led you to believe. The pilot’s dash in front of you is consumed with flame.

“Crinking Hell! Dol'bfai!” You smack the Weequay to your right in an attempt to get his attention, but your hand meets nothing but the padding of your co-pilot’s chair. Heart dropping to your gut you look about the cockpit of your HWK-290. The leathery skinned man was in a broken bloody heap on the floor behind you. You might have felt bad if he wasn’t such E-chu-ta each and every day. If fact you couldn’t help but scold him mentally for not wearing his seat straps. “So much for ‘the experienced never falter’ line, Chuggnut.” You grunted, ejecting yourself from your own buckles to take care of the more pressing matter.

You leaned over the Weequay smuggler’s body to get to the extinguishing hose and with a little effort you salvaged what was left of your controls. Outside your ship was another wreck all together. Fires were smoldering at every corner of your limited view from inside. You had half a mind to run out immediately, but thought better of it. If your ship was going to blow up it would have done so already you told yourself in a comforting manner. Sending your droids for damage control was the safer option on foreign planets. However, you couldn’t stay put forever. The damages weren’t going to evaluate themselves, moreover, the body of your partner needed to be dragged out before he started to stink. By the looks of things the atmosphere had to be breathable. Most planets with such green life gave off suitable levels of oxygen for humans. Whatever the case, you would have to risk it; your employer refused to provided vacuum suits or travel tanks. Too costly.

You were use to the miserly ways of the former pirate leader Hondo Ohnaka. You had been working with his smuggling cover company for half a decade now: ever since you ran from the Jedi training academy, or rather, Ben Solo. You didn’t know Solo to be a liar, in fact he had treated you like a little sister for all the years you had grown together, but when he told you and the others how Luke had turned on him you were too confused to chose between the two of them. Luke was your master, and Ben your friend. The force whispered something to you then. A soft encouragement to leave everything. You chose to listen; to not pick sides at all, and made a new life for yourself under an identity the Weequay stole for you.

Once free of your hot metal cage it was clear that things were not as horrible as you imagined. You were safe from any fuel combustion’s or reactor leaks. The two DUM-series pit droids were clumsily scurrying about trying to put out the fire that was inching ever closer to your turret. It was also evident from the back that only one of Pathfinder’s two hyper-drive systems had taken on some heavy laser canon damage. Looked like the shielding component was scored too, but that wasn’t a necessity for getting back in the air.

“The kriff happen?” you weren’t fully talking to anyone, not even yourself. You had a vague memory of being cornered by Absolution, a First Order R-SD, and their TIE fighters on your way to a high bye delivery. But how, moreover where, you crash landed was still a mystery. You tapped the remote on your wrist. A projection fizzed in and out of view with vertical blue static. You must have knocked it out of order in the crash. Now you had no way of knowing what planet you were on or what it’s population consisted of.

“O-T!” The droid with the painted yellow stripe above his singular oculus ambled in your direction. “Once you get this mess under controls see if our Nav is still in tact. The job is a sham but we might be able to at least back track to base. I’ll go scout out the area for any nearby scarp yards. We aren’t getting off this durkload of a planet in this condition, that’s for damn sure.” O-T nodded and whistled a question in response. “Don’t know. Com link is out and I’m not able to check for life forms. If anything happens just lock yourselves in the ship 'til I get back.” You didn’t wait for the little droid to argue with you more as he usually would. It wasn’t likely you would be getting an extraction from Ohnaka Transport Solutions this close to First Order territory anyway. You were on your own.

You traveled 500 paces from your ship in each cardinal direction before you came to something of interest. Flowing SE to S was a small river bed. With noting more than a seemingly endless forest as your surrounding it was your best bet to finding civilization. For another hour you saunter down the unbeaten path until you felt night approaching. There was already little light beneath the canopy and you didn’t have the eyes of a cat, so with your wits and strength still about you you turned back. The rusted roof of your Corellian light freighter would have to suffice for the night.

The cacophonous sounds of shrieking and the boisterous gargling of goose like honks was your first indication that something was awry near your ship. The closer you got the more defining the racket became. Whatever the creature was, and you were sure it was some kind of animal, had to have a massive pair of lungs on it.

With much disappointment you found your analysis to be correct. Thought the brush you could see some kind giant blue feathered lizard-bird striking at your dead co-pilot’s flesh. You cursed yourself for not burring the poor man right away, and true to your command your pit droids had barricaded them selves inside your transport.

“Mother of …” You sighed to yourself. Your Jedi teachings told you to let the beast be, however, just hiding behind a tree all night while it desecrated the Weequay’s body didn’t feel right to you. Regardless you held yourself back from attacking the thing. It was just trying to survive after all, and if you didn’t have to get into a fight you didn’t want to. You were already stranded. Adding injury to that would not be wise.

When morning came the feathered brute had not yet left; roosting atop your ship like it had always belonged there.

Well if the giant critter wanted it, he could have it. In your groggy state you had little patience and didn’t want to be bothered with defending what you didn’t currently posses. You had everything you needed: canteen, provisions in your belt pouch, republic credits, and of course your trusty light-saber. Once you got what you wanted from the scrap shop you would deal with the overgrown pidgin.

“You’re alive.”

The voice of your pursuer was clear. This wasn’t part of your imagination. The force had bonded you and Solo again. “Careful Ren, you almost sound relived.”

Kylo scoffed. “Surprised is more likely."

You stood and turned around. Were there was once endless forest now stood the masked Dark Jedi you both dreaded and longed to see. "How is it you keep your standards for me so low when I’ve evaded your every move."

"I wouldn’t call narrowly escaping with your life an 'evasion’.” Gloved hands ringed rightly around themselves. Anger or worry built like a tumultuous storm inside of him: you couldn’t tell which. “How did you manage that Jump?”

“Jump?” The query slipped though your lips too quickly.

“Don’t remember? Maybe your not as well of as you look” Kylo straightened with pride. You were sure he was gloating to himself on his small victory. “My Knights had you cornered at the edge of a nebula. With no larger ship close enough to tractor you in I gave the order to immobilize you.”

“Why not just kill me?"

It was an abrupt interruption that went unanswered. Kylo waited for you to calm yourself before continuing. Even now as a villainous "dark lord” he was patient with you. “We took out your Hyperdrive, Y/N. That jump should have been impossible.”

It was coming back to you now. You had prosperously led the TIEs to the cloud of gas and dust. You planed to enter into it blind and use the force as your guide. You figured the lot you were running from wouldn’t dare try to fallow. Instead your ship started to shake and spark as it tried desperately to hold against the onslaught. You panicked. You didn’t even complete the calculations before you pushed your freighter to enter hyperspace. You could have died. You could have been thrust into a star or another mass and exploded into dust.

Your stomach tightened. Dol'bfai was dead because of your rash behavior. He was in the middle of un-tethering a knot in his seat straps when you made that decision. You pulled out of it almost immediately, giving your best attempt at the “skipping” the other smuggler pilots did so often, but it was too late. You were entering the atmosphere of another moon or planet. There was not time to pull up, and you crashed.

If Kylo saw the tear you shed just then he didn’t bother to comment on it. “If you were with those goons of yours you could have planned better for that. You know as well as your father that every standard HAWK series come with two hyperdrives."

You could have sworn you heard Kylo curse from beneath his helmet. His breathing was expeditious and heavy now; you cold feel his fury swarming in the force around you.

"Cookie points to you if you are able to find me this time Ren. Even I don’t know where I am.” You teased rather lightheartedly.

This only pushed his buttons more. He gestured to you pointedly. “Oh don’t worry about that. I’ll bring you in myself if I have to.”

And with that your force connection faded. The experience left you feeling diminished and torn. Your past kept endangering the people around you. With a heaving breath and shaking knees you looked ahead to the southern half of the forest. You could dwell on these events all day if you’d like, but it would just be a waist of time. You needed to set your pity party aside and focus on getting off this planet before he really did find you.

~~~ Two days had passed and you thanked the force that not one of them brought you any sign of the First Order. Your only gripe was that the town you had found proved your worst nightmares had come true. This planet was primitive. The citizens here weren’t even literate, moreover, building any sort of machinery. You were shit out of luck, money, and a plan.

Was this punishment? You thought it might be far more often than you would like to admit. The force had never led you so astray before. What kind of design could it have for you now?

Your credits weren’t worth anything here but one tavern keeper in this shit stained town you did take a fancy to your Heart of Beskar necklace. You debated for a long while if you should give it to him in exchange for a few hot meals and a bed. It was the only thing you had to remember your birth family of after all. But after a particularly stormy night you didn’t have choice any longer. Not unless you wanted to freeze to death. It was hard to let go, but not as hard as it was each day that passed knowing your parents let you be raised by a stranger.

Sure becoming a Jedi was a noble cause to enlist your child into, but unlike so many of your piers you did not ever go back home to your parents. Ben and the others always got to see their loved ones for a few weeks every so often, and yet you were kept locked away on the training camp with Luke year round. When asked Luke assured you that your parents were still alive; he even gave you their names and home planet. Even now after having found their old home and poppers grave you didn’t understand.

So to the inn keep you gifted your father’s old armor piece, and two nights stay was what he offered you in return. Not a fair trade by any means, however, how exactly were you supposed to explain the galactic value of Beskar to these simple people?

A man dressed in bright colors played a 15 stringed instrument in the corner of the tavern. He was merry and boisterous; entertaining at the vary least. You pitied that the crowd this morning was not taking well to him. Half of them were hung over, the other half looked mean and dirty enough to scare a Dewback.

The Musician caught you staring at him. A smile brighter than the three suns of Helioss graced his features. You cringed internally and returned his gesture with a timid one of your own. Silently you prayed he wouldn’t goat you into some volunteer sing-song delights so publicly.

The Man’s strut was so vaunt it had every patron staring at him as he made his way though the tables to presumably talk to you. You shrunk a little in your seat, not wanting this kind of attention. You had already drawn enough as it was with how oddly you were dressed; you didn’t need any more. He plopped down opposite you at the table.

“So! How come the only person in this shit stick interested in my song is a pretty young woman like you?” He gave you almost no room to think of an answer before continuing his self serenade. “If it’s my corky charm or boyish good looks please don’t keep me waiting in sufferance to hear those sweet words leave your lips.” The line could have been considered smooth to some, however, the awkward and eager demeanor he carried was a little too much. You could see how it was putting off the rest of the room.

The only response you had to offer was a perplexed smile.

He rested his chin in the palm of his upturned hand. “Come on!” He whined enthusiastically. “Care to comment on the quality of my performance? I do love getting reviews from the public.”

You sighed though your nose and fiddled with the food in front of your. “Yes, well… I suppose we all yearn for validation. Don’t we?”

It was the bard’s turn to bewildered. He sat up stat tall in his bench now, brows furrowed, taking a briefer moment to ponder. “What’s your name?”

Your head tilted. “Where I’m from it’s rude to ask for someone’s name without offering your own first.” It was a plane way of throwing his question back at him; you weren’t looking to get overly acquainted with anyone if you could avoid it.

“Oh!” He was beaming excitedly again. “Where is it you are from?!"

You gave him an unblinking stare for what felt like a medium sized eternity. Clearly he was not accustom to taking non verbal ques. You decided to just give in to his delicate personality. "Florrum.”

“Ahh.” He nodded in a knowing matter. “Beautiful country.”

“Right.” He was pulling Bantha wool over your eyes in an attempt to impress you. It was arguably charming.

“Where is that exactly? From here I mean.” The bard laughed nervously as he knocked his head playfully. “I get so turned around while mindlessly fallowing my muse on his travels.”

“Your Muse?” It was time to change the subject.

“Oh hohoho! He is a man of Destiny, Heroics, and Heart Brake.” The man practically jumped out of his seat and with one leg propped up onto the bench he swung his instrument back front side. “Shall I play you a song about him?”

Head half in your hands you nodded. Your bashful nature told you you would regret this, but you didn’t have the heart to say no.

He was taking his first heaving breath before starting to strum when another interrupted the musician, yanking him back by the shoulder. “Jaskier. We’re leaving.” The new man was hulking and clad in black studded leathers, with eyes of gold. He wasn’t old, but his hair was as silver as his blades. A striking appearance. Perhaps humans weren’t the only sentient species on this forsaken planet.

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