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collapsedglasshouses · 4 months

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An Angel For Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 10]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules [she/her]

MASTERPOST

SUMMARY: Jules and Noah finally face their difficulies, leading to them letting down their guards.

WARNINGS: ANGST, NSFW, MDNI, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v) [does it even count as unprotected, she is a fucking guardian angel idk], even more angst, swearing, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of death, ...

A/N: I cried. A lot. :) Also! I'd like to dedicate this chapter to @crimson-calligraphyx because I accidentally gave Jules' best friend her name in the exact same spelling as her own name! ALSO... this is not proofread... i'm sorry about that ._.

TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @measuredingold @cncohshit @signs-of-ill-portent @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @ada-clarence @wild-child-7747 @thebadchic @thescarlettvvitch @cookiesupplier

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

“What am I doing?” Jules asked herself while looking at Noah’s sleeping figure. It’s been three hours since he had finally fallen asleep and Jules felt numb. Her heartbeat took some time to slow down a bit, but her mind was still racing as fast as it gets. She couldn’t get the image of him trying to climb over the balcony railing out of her head. She knew he wasn’t doing well but she didn’t realize it had been that bad. He needed help she couldn’t give him.

Every time she considered a strategy to help him, she couldn't follow through with it. The idea of merely returning to exist in his shadows appeared more impossible than ever. All of her past actions seemed like a lot of bad decisions. The fact that she now also had promised him to talk about the situation and see him again, made her feel even more at unease.

Her gaze remained fixed on Noah, and she felt a wave of nausea. It seemed impossible to get herself out of the situation. She didn’t want to leave him; he needed support, and she was determined to find a way to help him overcome his misery.

TWO WEEKS LATER

When Noah opened the door to his room, a deep sigh escaped him. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced than usual, and he found himself in a state of uncertainty. It had been a while since he last saw Jules. She didn't come to talk to him as she had promised, and although he yearned to resolve things, he understood it might be for the best.

He had phoned his therapist as soon as he woke up and made an appointment for after the tour. After that he went on and did his best. He performed as good as he could and even though the tour had been successful he was more than glad that it had ended.

His therapy session had just ended and now he didn't really know what to do. He was angry with himself that he let his intrusive thoughts get a hold of him back than but when he was being honest with himself he was even more disappointed that Jules didn't show up as she promised.

When he sat down at his desk, his phone suddenly vibrated.

ONE NEW NOTIFICATION FROM SADIE

He hadn't heard from her since that night he almost had a car accident while driving to her.

Sadie: What's up? You wanna meet up?

Noah stared at the message and began to bite the inside of his cheek. It wasn't like he didn't like her or something but since he met Jules, he hadn't thought of Sadie even once.

He sighed before laying down his phone again. This was dumb. He was acting dumb. He had this really nice girl waiting for him and he would have the advantage of getting rid of some stress, but he preferred to sit there and mourn his damn guardian angel. He wasn't even remotely sure what he was hoping to get out of it.

So, he stood up and grabbed his jacket and right as he was about to leave his room, he felt a hand on his shoulder and simultaneously his anger level seemed to explode.

"You can't be serious?" He blurted out and spun around to look at Jules. She looked terrible, if he could even say that. If she would still have been alive, he would have said she hadn't slept in a while.

"Noah-..." - "No! No fucking 'Noah'." - "I-..." - "Shut up, you didn't talk then and now I don't want to hear your excuses!"

He tried to turn around but Jules grabbed both of his shoulders to make him look at her. "You know damn well how difficult this whole thing is" Jules exclaimed and tried to suppress her tears.

"No, Jules. It isn't really difficult to just show up and talk." He answered her, ignoring his desire to touch her.

"You seem to forget who the fuck I am, Noah! I'm not even supposed to be here." She snarled at him.

"Then go." Noah answered coldly before getting out of her grip and storming of. He didn't even stop when he passed Nick who gave him a confused look.

He didn't allow him to think anything until he drove out of the drive way. Screams from the music echoed through his car as he gribbed the steering wheel harder. He couldn't believe this whole fucked up shit was happening as if he didn't already have enough to deal with.

When he left the neighborhood, he suddenly felt at unease and could just roll his eyes. "This isn't working, Jules. I'll still leave."

Nobody answered him. He was furious.

His knuckles slowly began to turn white from his hard grip on the steering wheel as he suddenly let out a frustrated groan and turned around as soon as he saw the last gas station before he would reach Sadie's house.

“Fuck off.” Noah shouted into the darkness. He couldn’t believe how much Jules had him in his grip. The last couple of days he tried his utter best to clear his head, get things sorted out, work on the problems that already consumed his mind, but Jules was the one thing that never left him. He couldn’t escape her, and he hated her for that.

“You need to stop, Jules.” He screamed and still, there was no answer. So, when he re-entered the house and stormed to his room, he was about to trash his room when he saw Jules sitting on his bed, staring at the wall.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He screamed at her, causing her to flinch.

“What are you talking about?” She wanted to know, not even caring to look up at his angered face. She really didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Oh, come on, Jules.” He answered her and started pacing up and down the room. He needed to let go. He needed to get rid of his piled-up frustration.

She slowly stood up from his bed, her eyes following his wandering figure. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know what he wanted. But she knew her following spiteful comment didn’t ease the tension. “Enjoyed your trip?”

Noah stopped in his tracks. “You can’t be fucking serious, Jules.” – “Care to explain your psychotic outburst?”

When Noah looked at Jules like that, he didn't realize how exhausted she appeared.

Instead of answered her, he began to shake his head unamused. “You know exactly what you did.” – “You’re insane.” – “OF FUCKING COURSE… I’m talking to my fucking guardian angel who seems to have a great jealousy issue.”

Jules' brow furrowed as she processed what Noah had just yelled at her. His eyes sparkled with a slight hint of madness. A couple of seconds passed, before Jules finally realized what Noah was trying to tell her.

“You think I made you turn around from your booty call?” Jules wanted to know from him.

“I don’t think it, I know it and I need to know why.” Noah answered her and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Jules blinked a couple of seconds and felt a wave of relieve wash over her. “I hate to break it to you, Noah… But I wasn’t even following you.”

Jules looked into Noah’s eyes and saw how confusion washed over him. He wasn’t sure what he should believe anymore. He let out a frustrated sigh before he sat down at the edge of his bed, Jules eyes following him with concern.

"Why didn't you talk to me like you promised?" He asked her after a couple of minutes of silence, his eyes finally meeting hers.

Jules' heart sank at his broken frame. She didn't know what to say. She knew she had been a coward but she just wanted him to forget about her.

"This is all so confusing, Noah. I feel like we always run in circles." She breathed out and sat down next to him. "I think it would be best for me to just go back into your shadows, Noah. I'm making your live even harder than it already is."

Noah, deciding to ignore her statement, turned his upper body to her, "You need to tell me something, Jules."

She looked into his dark brown eyes which sparked with curiosity. Every time she dared to glance at him like that, she felt like she was going to crumble under his gaze. "What is it, Noah?" Her voice was not more than a whisper, both of them scared to ruin the moment like they did so often in the past.

"Did you feel it, too?" He calmly wanted to know and Jules heart rate increased rapidly. He didn’t even have to explain what he exactly meant.

If she felt it too? Of course, she did. Of course, she felt how their hearts aligned the first time their eyes met. Of course, she felt how she wanted nothing but to be close to him. Of course, she felt it too.

But Jules also knew she couldn’t just say that.

Noah's eyes never left hers. He wouldn’t let this go again. He needed to know if he really was going crazy. He noticed how Jules began to pick the skin around her finger nails and decided to step in. He carefully grabbed her hands. Again, there was this wave washing over him, every time he got to touch her.

And of course, she felt it too. But she didn’t know what to do. She knew, if she would talk, there was no way out of this anymore. Even less than before.

Noah, in the mean time, realized what her answer would be, giving her shift in demeanor. But he needed to hear it from her.

"Don’t make this harder than it already is, Noah." Jules whispered, both of them still getting lost in each other’s eyes.

"So, you felt it too." Noah exclaimed, not letting go of the subject.

Jules swallowed hard. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to let Noah go, but when he looked at her like that, their hands still intertwined, she felt like she was about to explode.

"Say it, Jules." Noah demanded, "Say it and I’ll let you go."

Jules' ears were ringing. Her cheeks were burning and the slight tint of Noah’s cheeks gave away, he was feeling the exact same thing.

"You promise?"

Noah nodded.

"I thought, I lost you." Jules than let out, causing Noah to raise his brows while Jules felt her tears coming up. "I-… I thought, you would do it, Noah. I had this gut-wrecking feeling that you would die…"

Noah swallowed hard.

"If that was the feeling Keaton felt when I was hit by that car… I-… I don’t wanna feel that every again… It felt like I was dying again." She explained while tears fell down her cheeks. Noah wanted to wipe them away but he decided against it, fearing he would lose her again.

Jules squeezed his hands harder.

"When I saw you making an appointment with your therapist and doing rather well after I left that night… I just didn’t want to disturb you again." Jules explained, only interrupted by her own cries.

Noah's heart sank. He knew he wasn’t doing well and he did everything he could to change that again but seeing her so broken because of his action made it even worse for him. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her and yet it seemed it was the only thing that brought them together. Hurting each other…

"I'm supposed to help you when you are in trouble. Prevent you from bad things but I feel like I’m the trigger to get you to do bad things and that’s just because I was so dumb to show myself." She rambled on, feeling a sense of relief from finally letting go of her thoughts. Noah's eyes became watery.

"But the biggest mistake was to let you touch me, Noah, because-…" Jules stopped mid-sentence, in hopes she could calm herself down, but nothing helped. The tears were flowing like there was no tomorrow.

"Tell me, Jules." Noah asked with a raspy voice from trying to hold his tears back.

"Because we both know this was the moment there was no going back." Jules whispered and sniffled quietly. Her gaze fell down to their hands, both of them holding each other with such force, as if one of them would explode into the nothingness.

Noah slowly let go of one of her hands and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Than he placed his hand under her chin to make her look at him. This was enough for Jules.

Everything she desperately wanted to keep from him broke out of her.

"I don’t even know if these feelings are real…" Jules let out and stopped in her tracks again. Noah gave her an encouraging look to go on.

"I feel so alive with you… You make me feel alive, Noah." She whispered and stared into his brown eyes.

For a couple of seconds, they just looked at each other, both processing what Jules had just said. And than… Noah broke.

"You're someone worth staying alive for, Jules."

Jules blinked for a second, trying to fight the urge of getting closer to Noah, but Noah took the decision from her when he mumbled "Fuck it..." and not even a second later grabbed Jules face and let their lips connect.

As their lips met, the scent of his cologne enveloped Jules, making her head spin with desire. Noah felt exactly the same. The warmth of her kiss spread through him like a comforting blanket on a chilly night.

For a second, both of them forgot how fucked up their situation was. They just pretended they were two adults, connect by fate. It was a bittersweet exchange, a mixture of longing and fulfillment that lingered in the air.

Their bodies gravitated toward each other, closing the distance as if pulled by an invisible force. Soon, Jules was being pulled onto Noah's lap and let her arms fall around his neck, while he grabbing onto her waist as if she would vanish any second.

Nothing even compared to the sensation Jules felt in that moment. Noah was the only thing on her mind and nothing was going to stop that. It felt like she only existed for this exact moment. To be close to him, to be held by him. All of his was new for her but she felt this deep need to get even closer to him.

For Noah, it felt like he had eaten the forbidden fruit. He had been in situations like this before but nothing in the world was able to compete with the feelings that washed over him, while his lips collided with Jules'.

When they finally pulled away, the air between them crackled with a newfound energy, the unspoken promise of what was to come. Their eyes met, a silent conversation passing between them, unlocking emotions that had long been hidden.

Jules' lips were red and puffy, while Noah's hair was even wilder then it had been just a couple of minutes ago.

Moments of silence passed between them, both getting lost in each others eyes.

Right as Noah was about to break this silence, Jules became bold. She closed their distance again, not being able to stand even a slight loss of contact with Noah. She felt her heart beating so fast that she was convinced for a second that she was in fact still alive.

She tried to push her thoughts of the future away as Noah's hands slipped under the plain shirt she wore. Jules shivered under his touch.

Even though Jules had no idea what she was doing, she let her feelings get a hold of her and began kissing down Noah's tattooed neck. She felt like she was going to explode when she heard his heavy breaths. Her hand grabbed the base of his hair without a second thought when Noah suddenly thrusted his hips up.

Jules moaned out in a mix of confusion and arousal. She couldn't believe this was really happening. She never made anyone feel the way Noah felt right now.

Noah pushed her slightly against him when she lifted her head again to look into his love drunk eyes.

"Are you okay?" Noah mumbled out, waiting for Jules' consent to the situation.

Jules looked at him for a short second before nodding frantically. She needed more. She needed Noah.

When she tried to kiss him again, he slightly backed away, a smirk on his face. "Use your words, Jules."

"I'm-..." Jules struggled to get out, "I'm more than okay, Noah."

Their lips connected again in a heated kiss and seemingly everything went fast, just like their whole relationship.

They helped each other out of their shirts, before Noah turned them around, hovering over the angel in front of him. He tried not to think about the fact that he was in fact making out with a somewhat ghost.

Jules was real to him. Jules was everything he needed right now.

He planted some soft kisses on her skin and felt how his lips began to prickle. This felt so unreal to him.

"You look so fucking beautiful." He breathed out while letting his hands run over her upper body. Jules felt goose bumps forming all over her skin. She couldn't quite comprehend how she was the angel in their position when every single touch of his felt so godlike.

“I-… I feel like I need more.” Jules said quietly even though it came out more like a desperate plea.

Noah’s hand traveled up to her breast slowly, pinching her hardened nipple for a short second. He didn’t miss how Jules thrusted herself against his thigh for a short second.

“Does it feel good?” Noah breathed out with a faint smile on his face before kissing Jules’ cheek.

Even though Jules had little to no experience, she noticed how he tried to tease her, but she wasn’t able to mock him back. She needed him so bad.

Jules whined out Noah’s name. “It feels so good.”

Noah kissed her deeply, quickly involving his tongue to get a taste of her. Jules couldn’t help but moan into his kiss loudly. Noah loved it, getting addicted to every precious noise he brought out of Jules. Just when Noah brought his knee between her legs, Jules swore she was about to die again. She couldn’t believe this whole thing was even better than she read in her little novels back when she was living in her small flat. Although their kisses slowed down a bit, their actions didn’t.

Jules shyly let her hand travel down Noah’s body, finding its way on his hardness. Noah felt like he was going to explode.

“God. Where did you learn that?” He moaned out in surprise, still not quite processing what was happening while Jules’ moves let him sink deeper into his delusion.

“You know? Reading books can help.” Jules smiled into the kiss, noticing how she got even wetter at his exclaim.

Her hand gripped him harder.

Noah let out a deep moan as he kissed down her neck and moved the hand that was previously placed on her breast down her stomach. Shortly they found their place on her clothed core. It didn’t take him long to push through the waistband of her shorts and she started to lightly massage her clit.

“Holy.” She moaned into his mouth while arching her back.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Noah whined out, causing Jules to giggle.

“And here I thought I was a reason to stay alive for.” She whispered out with a smile, causing Noah to tease her wet entrance with his fingers before going back to her clit again. Noah smiled at her aroused expression.

“You’re going to be the death of my piece and mind.” He corrected himself, before Jules let go of his hardness to help him get her out of her last pieces of clothing.

Looking at his angel in all her glory was mind blowing to Noah. He was sure he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he looked at her beauty. It felt like she was glowing, and Noah just craved her taste even more.

But he wanted to take it slow. He didn’t know if this was the last time. He didn’t know if they were going back to their weird state of knowing about each other but ignoring their connection at the same time. He would do everything in his power to burn these images in both of their heads.

He circled her clit faster and faster as he leaned forward to kiss Jules deeply. He swallowed every moan of her as he felt himself get more and more aroused.

Then, for a moment, he stopped and looked the girl under him in the eyes, asking for silent consent. Jules slightly nodded; her mind clouded with the man in front of her.

“Please.” Jules groaned as she felt his fingers sink into her deeper and deeper.

“You’re so tight, I can barely fit my fingers in.” Noah teased the girl as he, again, kissed her neck.

Jules gripped Noah’s hair tightly as she pushed herself down on his hand. It was a brand-new sensation for her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t touched herself during her lifetime, but feeling Noah’s fingers inside of her felt like she was meant to be his.

Noah quickened his pace, while his other hand found it’s way to her cheek, caressing it with softness. Her moans echoed through the room, and he wanted nothing more but to record them and play them over and over as if it was his favorite song.

Jules leaned forward to catch Noah’s lips again. Jules didn’t know what had come over her but everything just felt so good and right.

“Fuck, you are perfect.” Noah muttered into the kiss. “Please… Please come for me. You can do it.”

And Jules did. The words and moans that come out of her mouth nearly made Noah come on the spot. She barely had the strength anymore to tell him how good he made her feel while she began shaking in pleasure. All she could do was running her fingernails over his bare back.

For a couple of seconds, Jules just whimpered in ecstasy.

“Your voice is my favorite sound.” Noah whispered and peppered kisses on her cheek as she came down from her high.

All Jules could do was capture Noah’s lips in another kiss, showing her gratefulness to share this moment with him. The kiss became deeper as she wrapped her arms around him, catching him in a firm embrace. She couldn’t let go of him.

Noah let it happen. He also slung his arms around her as if life depended on it. But hugging each other seemingly didn’t do enough anymore.

“Again…” Jules mumbled into his shoulder, causing Noah to widen his eyes. “I need you.”

“Shit… You really want to?” Noah asked, making sure he wasn’t dreaming right now. He lifted his body up slightly, to look her in the eyes.

“I need to feel you, Noah.” Jules whined and left the man over her speechless.

Fuck.

Noah needed to calm himself down. He was already so close to letting go of himself, when he simple looked at his angel. Even now, with the remains of their shared moment hanging in the air, he wondered how it would feel to be inside of her. That’s when he allowed himself to think about the fact that Jules was in fact not a person wandering this earth. He was kind of sleeping with a ghost… Or going insane… Probably both.

“We don’t need t-…” – “I want to, Noah.”

Noah let out a deep breath, nearly unable to ignore his own lust. Jules noticed the conflict going on in his head and quickly came to his rescue. She captured him in a sweet and soft kiss.

“I promise. I want this.” She muttered against his lips. “I want to be close to you. Do you want to?”

Noah nearly crumbled because of her words. Of course, he wanted her. So badly.

Noah swallowed hardly before deciding to let go. He quickly got out of his clothes, giving Jules almost no time to look at his beauty, before coming back to her, kissing her with such force, she nearly moaned again.

He placed himself between her open legs, thrusting his hardness against her pussy a few times, while analyzing her reaction with great interest. Jules took in every second she had with Noah. She was willing to do nothing else for the rest of her weird existence.

If Jules hadn’t already corrupted every little space of Noah’s thoughts, she would have done it now. Everything he could feel, taste, sense… It was Jules. Everything was Jules.

Jules shyly reached down to grab his erection and ran her hands up and down for a couple of times. Noah meanwhile began to shake under her touch. “It feels so good.”

His words hypnotized Jules as she circled her hand over his tip and stroked it a few more times. She would have never thought everything would lead to this moment. Jules felt her heat throb before moving her hips slightly upwards to guide his hardness into her.

Just the tip sinking into her, made both of them moan out. For a moment, Noah stayed still as he watched the woman move her hips even more to give him better entrance. Inch by inch, his cock sank into her, their breaths and whines echoing through the room as he stretched her out.

Noah begged this wasn’t just a dream. It felt more real than anything ever before.

“You’re taking me so well, angel.” He breathed out before placing a small kiss on her lips.

“You feel so good.” Jules answered him and looked into his eyes lovingly.

With that he finally thrusted into her. Everything aligned in that moment. All the moments they shared, all the fights, all the difficulties, all the feelings. Everything felt like it happened to bring them to this moment. It was as if they were the only to individuals existing in that moment. Sweet words were whispered into the heavy air of the room as the both of them gave each other exactly what they craved. Each other.

“Keep going. Noah. You feel so good.” Jules whisper shouted.

“God…” Noah moaned. “I love this so much.”

His pace became faster.

Without even thinking, Jules let out her next words. “I wanna feel your cum.”

Noah’s whole body prickled at her words. He couldn’t form words anymore, everything was hazed with the emotions he felt for her. He loved her. He loved being with her. He craved her.

Jules moved to meet his thrusts. Noah bit his lip. “You’re taking me so well.”

Jules kissed him again, feeling like she had never felt more emotions at the same time in her life.

“That’s it. Let go, Jules.” Noah grunted, making sure to give Jules her time. He was hitting all the perfect spots.

His thrusts became harder, while he captured her hands above her head, getting even better excess. They moaned in sync. It was their final straw.

They both came with a loud moan, his cum spilling inside of her with each thrust. For a few moments, their heavy breaths were the only thing that filled the room. Both coming down from their highs with a few kisses, all filled with the silent confessions of love.

When Noah caught his breath again, he kissed Jules again. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

“So are you.” Jules answered him with a sweet smile while she gazed over his face. He was in fact so beautiful. From his dark brown eyes that held so many secrets, to the small freckles plastered over his face.

Slowly, Noah let himself fall into his bed, cuddling into her side immediately.

Jules, meanwhile, stared at the ceiling of Noah’s room, while her thoughts began to flow her brain. This actually happened. She, an individual dangling between life and death, had sex with the person she was supposed to guard. But he wasn’t just any person. He was Noah. Her Noah.

It took the two a couple of minutes, maybe an hour to finally speak up again.

“You don’t even know how much you mean to me.” Noah whispered out and brushed a strand of her out of her face. His anxiety had also caught up to him, but he tried to ignore it for a second longer while laying there.

Jules bit her lip. Her heart skipped a beat at his words, even though she tried to function normally again. “I can’t even describe what you mean to me.”

She turned to look into his eyes. She quickly noticed they both knew what was eventually going to happen now.

“One night.” Noah whispered in a pleading tone. “One night, where we don’t think about it.”

Jules swallowed hard. She knew it was going to end rather soon than late. She didn’t want it to but she knew it had to go this way. So, she nodded.

“One night.”

With that she leaned forward and kissed him again. She kissed him with such force, he wouldn’t have any chance to miss what she was trying to say.

After that, they got even closer to each other, letting each other embrace the love they shared for a moment…

One night…

PART ELEVEN

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fanfic #collapsedglasshouseswrites

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cherrypalace · 2 years

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drowning

i wrote drowning a few months back. i remember, when i sat down to write the song i had just come home from somewhere and there was pouring rain outside. it was me and my guitar, alone in my living room. originally i wrote drowning to deal with a break up that i went through but the song like it is now changed so much compared to the thing i wrote that night. now it's more about losing yourself in someone else, giving yourself and desperately needing them to give the same back to you. i wasn't very happy with the song after i had finished it because it felt too heavy. instead of the verses i had rap/ talking parts which i wanted to try for a long time but didn't really feel comfortable with in that setting. it felt like i had tried to squeeze the song into a hip hop song which clearly did not fit. i wrote the verses that exist now a few weeks later in the studio after long and frustrating back and forths, thinking, discussing and trying many many ideas together with my producer. for hours on end nothing would come out of it. i was almost ready to throw the song away, say fuck it and start working on something else. but i liked the chorus too much to just ditch it. i think it was at that point that we realised we had to cut the rap verse and work with melody instead. there was no way around it, we had tried everything to make the rap part work because i didn't wanna let it go. the lyrics were amazing and i felt like i couldn't write a new verse with the same intensity and expression.

so at first that was a hard pill to swallow. but the motivation radically came back when we had the first verse and the whole song suddenly felt different. the lyrics were even almost just as good because i was still in the same emotional headspace as I was a week before when I had written drowning.

it was a blessing for the song that we had started working on it right after it was written because with before i sleep and enough it was totally different. I wrote enough when I was 15 and before I sleep at 16. these songs had slumbered for a while until we dug them back out for the first releases.

and because of that emotional freshness i could really relate to the lyrics, they were stemming from such a recent feeling. we recorded my voice right after i had just written the words so i meant every word that i sing in the song.

i love to assign random things to my songs. colours, settings, sounds, feelings and little videos. it helps me to get a new understanding of the song. it often happens to me that i sing my own song so many times during recording sessions and at home, that i forget the meaning or feeling behind it.

since the start i have associated drowning with either a strong neon green (similar to led lights) or a deep blue, white blurry color. dirty bathrooms, urban cities, helplessness, desperation, feeling the panic rise, chest clench and breath stop.

on the other hand drowning is floating, falling, letting go, getting dizzy in a good way and completely giving yourself away. it's the blissful high that comes with the fall.

the concept of drowning, what it feels like to drown, really fascinates me. in my research for the video i read some statements from several different people, all having more or less the same experience while they nearly drowned. they all talked about two stages. first, panic rises, you fight for your life. the water takes your breath away and with every cell in your body you try to gasp for breath, to hold your head above the water.

after what feels like hours of fighting there comes a point when your body gives up. sinking down, they say, you almost feel peaceful. what was an unbearable brawling, now becomes a soft, pleasant numbness. your body feels warm and suddenly everything is okay. you no longer fight, you let yourself go completely. there is nothing unresolved anymore. no fear, no worries. your head and heart are empty, the constant buzz is gone.

i wanted to capture that feeling. giving yourself up after hours of fighting. letting go and sinking helplessly. it's not real acceptance, it's your body realising that there is no other option. it's the process of understanding that this is it. nobody will come and save you this time. they won't turn around. it's the process of waking up from delusional hope.

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chipper-smol · 4 years

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Nobody asked for this, but here’s a quick drabble with 1.5k words and two pics of Ghost and the Pure Vessel fighting

Ghosts legs took them to the sparring grounds located at the base of the palace where the Five Great Knights spent their spare time teaching the new recruits how to properly wield a nail. Some days, however, those training sessions were canceled. The reason for that was so the Pure Vessel could be taught privately. The King wanted to keep their existence a secret and perhaps took great lengths to make sure the Feral Vessel wouldn’t spill that secret, but that was a story for another time.

As they walk into the yard their presence is quickly known. Ogrim notices first and bellows his usual greeting, alerting Dryya and Ze’mer. Ghost is quietly glad Hegemol is nowhere to be seen, they lost the bug that doubled as his mace. Their sibling slowly turned as they deemed the action fair for a supposed hollow thing to make.

Ogrim struck up a one-sided conversation with them immediately, talking about charms or something but Ghost isn’t paying attention. Their gaze is glued to their siblings.

They walk closer and closer until they enter the sparring court. Ghost reaches up and brandishes their- branch. Branchishes?

Unlike their previous confiscated branches this one is a pale white and it would take a daft fool to not immediately recognize it as a branch from the Queen’s body. Confusion sparks briefly through the three knights. How did they get that? More pressingly, did they hurt the Queen? Dryya begins to step forward, but is cut off by Ghost suddenly shifting into an offensive stance.

The Pure Vessel responds to their challenge as a hollow thing should when threatened.

Oh shit they’re fast.

Ghost barely brings up their nail- branch in time to block the first harsh blow. The sharp edge bounces harmlessly off the pale wood they wield. The force behind the blow threw them off balance, giving their sibling a clear shot at their abdomen.

Ogrim winces as void splashes across the battlefield, “Shouldn’t we stop them?”

Dryya huffs with her arms crossed adamantly across her chest, “No. It started this, perhaps its most foolish idea yet. Let it face the consequences of its actions for once.”

“Le’mer, the two will hurt themselves…”

“Let them wyrmdamnit. I doubt that Feral Vessel will be able to land a single scratch on the Pure Vessel. With my training there’s no way its going to lose to that chaotic thing.”

“Our training- but it seems you are correct. This duel is very one sided,” Ogrim says with a hint of unease as he scratches his chin.

It's true. Not once had the Feral Vessel gone on the defensive, stuck between dodging, blocking or taking another blow. They were sporting several void leaking wounds across their shell and their cloak had seen better days, yet the pale branch remained flawless.

Ghost find themself being forced past the edge of the court, but aren’t able to register the danger of it. They don’t see how their sibling is about to corner them against the wall of the palace until it is too late. They dash backwards and slam into the cold stone walls. Their lapse in concentration allows the Pure Vessel the perfect opening to strike and down their nail comes.

CRACK

Ghost stumbles against the wall as their vision flashes white with pain. They faintly see Ogrim start forward only to be pulled back by a stubborn Dryya.

Was that enough?

They check the only charm they equipped.

No???

That felt like three masks of damage!

Pure stands over them, nail at the ready yet— not striking. That sickening crack froze them in their tracks. They quickly rationalized the reaction as the threat being neutralized, but they couldn’t explain why they suddenly felt sick.

Ghost would groan if they could, but instead they shudder silently. Particles of void leak out of their mask yet it thankfully stays together. They can’t see out of their left eye, but it should be fine. They’ve fought worse battles under worse conditions.

After the first two hits they started to recognize their sibling’s fighting patterns from long ago in the Pantheons. The attacks were simpler, but much faster as Pure had less mass to move with each strike. After two more hits Ghost was dodging like they did back in the Pantheons. The speed boost wasn’t enough to completely throw them off their game, but they still needed to get hit, so they let themself get hit.

And they need one more.

They force their aching body to stand up straight and they grip their branch once more in challenge.

Pure hesitates for a split second before they crouch into a sharp stance and slash a wide arc right at their sibling. Ghost doesn’t need a hit this massive so they flinch back just enough for the sharp nail to graze their thigh.

And like a charm (because it is) a red aura materializes around them and their branch.

Fury of the Fallen met its condition to flare into action. Ghost feels the pain in their limbs go numb and their nai-branch feels inexplicably more dangerous in their grip. They flash into action with a sudden dash forward that catches their sibling off guard. Their branch smacks harshly against Pure’s right side and forces them off balance.

Pure retreats instead of trying to refind their balance. They teleport a quick length away and stare at their sibling, evaluating what just happened with hidden confusion. Their side throbs from the blow of that branch. They observe the Feral Vessel stand up straight once more and something about their stance makes Pure tense.

Their sibling holds themself casually, shoulders relaxed and arms down at their sides, but they weren’t slouching nor was the grip on their branch loose. Pure realizes quickly that they had underestimated their sibling. The Feral Vessel wasn’t unskilled or clumsy, they were studying the Pure Vessel’s moves. They hold that branch like a weighted nail. Their focus is sharp. The red glow around them- that formed only after they were damaged to the precipice of breaking- They allowed themself to get hit.

Pure settles into a defensive stance. They miscalculated. They would not do that again.

Ghost brushes off a lingering particle of void from their cloak. Pure teleports forward while they assume their sibling is distracted but are surprised when their downward slash is parried with a startling loud ring from their mother’s branch. Ghost surges forward and once again Pure loses their balance and can’t react when the branch thwacks against their leg.

Pure calls on their reserve of soul and teleport away once more in a flash of light before teleporting again behind the Feral Vessel. They hold their arm out and let their shell dissolve for a split second to unleash an unrestrained fury of void tendrils. Feral surprises them by spinning around on a dime and jumping. As they were about to fall they bring the branch down once more and somehow parry themself into the air off of the void tendrils.

The tendrils threaten to pull out too far so Pure has to bring them back- but they forgot that reforming their shell would take a precious moment of time. They see their sibling dashing forward and try to mimic what they saw before by holding their nail up in a parry, but they are too slow.

KRICK

The branch comes harshly down against the Pure Vessel’s head and gifts them a crack similar to the one adorning Ghost’s mask. Void spurts out of the wound and Pure’s head throbs with a deep pain.

And suddenly the Feral Vessel stops.

Their branch drops out of their suddenly slack grip as their chest tightens hard.

They were back in the Temple of the Black Egg, staring at the Hollow Knight knelt before them, weighed down with the infection. The crack Ghost so generously gave to their sibling was a striking resemblance to the one they would bear in the future.

They see the tortured orange eyes, the shaking limbs and the horrific sound of their pained gasps that they shouldn’t have been able to make. It scratches their hearing and lingers like an uncomfortable deep itch.

The Hollow Knight forces themself up on their nail from their downed position. Never had Ghost fought an opponent that got weaker as they battled. Watching The Hollow Knight inch forward and strike out to only collapse forward twisted Ghost’s soul mournfully.

They couldn’t deal the final blow.

They fled to the godseekers for they promised another way.

The infection was bolstered to an entirely different level for a short day before the void choked it from the inside-out.

Ghost comes back to the present too late as they see the flash of a nail whip in front of their eyes.

Their form finally falls as their mask cleaves in two. For the first time since they arrived in the past they drift freely as a shade. They look down at their sibling with their pale white eyes and are startled to see a matching shade.

What?

From the knight’s point of view, they saw the Pure Vessel finish the job they started and then suddenly clutch their own head in pain. Their mask split not too soon after their sibling’s did.

They both stare at each other.

This is going to be hard to explain to the King.

Oops.

“What on Wyrm’s sacred ground just happened?!” Dryya demands from the sidelines.

465 notes · View notes

kattwritesuwu · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Clingy!monsterTom x Depressed!Reader? Maybe with cutting and suicidal thoughts?

I sure can!!! I LOVE angst!!!!!

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Fandom: Eddsworld

Character: Tom

Reader: Depressed

Fic type: Comfort/angst

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: This WILL heavily mention suic/de, blood, and perhaps other triggering topics, read at your own risk!!

Notes: People, I'm not trying to make depression and similar illness romantic, this is simply for comfort.

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I hate everything.

Well, not everything, but the majority, y'know? Everything just...sucks. Life in general, it's all terrible.

People are terrible. Sure, I've found a few choice people that aren't the bane of my existence, but even they have their flaws.

Am I saying that I'm some heaven sent angel? Hell no I'm not. I'm just as terrible if not more! I hate everyone, including myself.

Am I lying? Yeah. Do I have a crush on someone? Yeah. Am I gonna do something about it? Nope.

Why should I? It's not like I'll be here longer anyways...

I'm planning to kill myself.

Am I scared? Kind of. But at this point I don't care. I'm always scared anyways. Always on my guard around people.

Most people don't know the fear and pain of constantly feeling...numb.

It's not like I never feel anything, it's just so rare. My most common emotion is pain. I just want to curl up in a ball and die. But all I can ever being myself to do is cry, and even that's a rare occurrence at this point.

I feel so alone.

Friends? Yeah I have a few.... they're all a bit odd in their own way. Can't complain though, they're like family to me.

My real family? Not many immediate ones, plus, I moved to England five years ago. They called me everyday for the first couple of months. Nowadays, I can barely get a text back... I get that they have their own lives in their respective country, but man, it just makes me so cold-feeling...

I guess where I was going with this, is that I'm scared. Not of my inevitable death, but everything else.

I'm scared of anything and everything now that I think about it. I don't exactly mean common fears they talk about in elementary school, I'm talking real world problems.

I'm scared of failure, not sure why. I've failed enough in my life....it shouldn't even faze me at this point.

Im especially scared of people.

My friends? Yeah them too. What if I make a fool of myself and they think I'm an idiot? What if I make the wrong move, and they hate me? They probably hate me enough as it is...

That why I won't confess to Tom. He'll hate me afterwards. There's just no point in ruining something for nothing in return.

These were the thoughts that ran through my head as my arms and legs were sliced up by a blade driven by my own hands. It's wasn't like it hurt. All it really did was sting, I'm just that used to being hurt, I suppose.

As I was wrapping up my little 'session' I heard a knock on my door,

"(Y/N)! You in there? It's dinner time! I made breakfast for dinner!" A British accent leaked through my door.

I didn't scramble around at the thought of him walking in, my door was locked after all. It's not like I'm that stupid.

" I'll be there in a few minutes, Edd." I spoke back in a raspy voice, not bothering to yell. Edd has good ears, he can somehow hear a whisper from across the house.

It takes me a minute or two to get up and walk into the bathroom that connects to my room. I stumble a bit with the loss of blood.

Once I get in there I take a quick shower, just barely long enough to stop the bleeding and make it appear as if you just took an actual shower.

Once I get out of the shower, I slip on my (favorite color) hoodie.

That was an easy part of hiding my self abuse. Everyone in the house wore a hoodie of their own designated color.

I also slipped on a longer article of clothing to go onto my legs. Couldn't let them see my thighs either.

Once I finished the rest of my cleaning up, I headed out of my little bathroom, and in front of my door. I took a deep breath, put on a smile, and walked out.

I got about halfway down the stairs before a screech startled me, causing me to trip a bit,

" (Y/N) IS HERE! YAY!" The high pitch British scream could only belong to the narcissistic ginger known as Matt.

Once I got my balance back into my feet, I continued down the stairs and greeted Matt with a wave.

" Yeah she lives here, idiot. She's not going anywhere." A deeper voice had spoken, I turned around and Tom was there as expected. I smile shrunk a bit at his last comment.

" Sup (y/n)." You snapped out of your thoughts and responded with a casual 'yo.'

The three of us then heard a thick accent cursing in the kitchen, no doubt it was Tord,

" For jævla skyld! Just let me have the last piece!!"

Sure enough, when we walked into the kitchen, Edd and Tord were fighting over the last piece of bacon. I let out a sigh, and the two boys finally acknowledged our existence. That alone didn't stop their argument though.

I didn't even bother attempting to break up the fight, I never could anyways. Their little fuss always ends one of two ways. Edd steals the bacon from under Tord's nose, or vise versa.

I just grabbed a small portion of food, and sat down.

I knew I would be gone by the end of tonight...but I wanted to taste Edd's cooking one last time.

Something interesting happened, instead of one of the two boys getting the bacon, they halved it and sat down. Of all my four years living in this house with these people, they've never shared their bacon.

Strange.

Dinner wasn't as talkative as it usually was when we all ate at the table. Usually we'd all have a big group discussion about our day, or week. Tonight was quiet, giving me an opportunity,

" Hey, guys?" Each one of their heads turned to me, and Edd signalled me to continue,

" I just wanted to say, thank you." Their brows furrowed but I held out a hand to tell them to let me finish,

" You four have helped me with so much over the past few years. From when you let me live here when I couldn't find proper housing situations, to letting me borrow the car. I just wanted to formally tell you all how grateful I really am. You are truly the kindest people I've ever met." As I went on talking, I realized how bad of an idea this actually was.

I mean, will they get suspicious? I'm just showing gratitude right? It shouldn't sound like a cry for help or anything...

As I snapped out of thought for the fiftieth time today, I notice that all of the boys have some type of smile on their face, even Tom!

Edd was smiling like a proud mother,

Matt was smiling giddily,

Tord had a smug, 'cool guy' smile,

And Tom had the smallest smile that made my heart melt.

I awkwardly continued my fake smile, and sat down.

Conversation continued on as would on a normal night, with the topic being past pleasant memories.

I volunteered to wash the dishes, it was the least I could do. There was only one problem. For some ungodly reason, Tom had insisted on helping me.

I couldn't figure out why at first, untill it dawned on me that he probably needed something from me.

So as I scrubbed the forgetten food off of the ceramic plate, he rinsed and dried them. We did this in silence, aside from the running water. Tom's the first one to break the tension filled silence,

" So, how have you been?" It was such a simple question, I could have simply faked a toothy grin, and said that I was great. I could have thanked him for asking. I could have asked him back.

But I only did one of those things.

" I've been doing just as good as I always do." I reply with a small sad smile. I tear my eyes away from the dish water," How about you? You've been awfully quiet tonight."

He chuckles lowly," Just had a lot on my mind, trying to face some of my problems, that's all." I stop what I'm doing and look over at him,

" Do you want to talk about it? I think the others are asleep already."

Normally when Tom is having any type of problem, he comes to me for advice, or even just for someone to listen to him rant when he's drunk. I even gave him a spare key to my room if he ever needs me while I'm asleep. He's offered the same for me, but I told him that I have a counselor. I try not to lie to my housemates all the time, only when necessary.

He simply shakes his head in response," Nah, this is one I have to deal with on my own," I sigh,

" Alright then, but keep my offer in mind. Just try to remember to see me before I go to bed, I'm...going to bed early tonight. I have something to do tommorow." He nods in understanding.

After we finish the dishes, we say our goodnights,

" I'll see you in the morning, (y/n)." I give one last fake smile,

" Same to you, Tom. Sleep well." I see him nod and walk down the hall as I close my door and lock it for the final time.

I walk into my bathroom and look into the mirror. All I see is a monstrosity of a person glaring back at me.

The bags under my eyes had only gotten worse after the sleepless nights I spent writing my suicide note.

I decided to skip reading over it one last time, I want nothing that could alter my decision at hand here. If I read my dying love letter that's written to Tom, I might stop myself in some kind of silly hope that everything could be okay again. It was too late for all that now.

So, I grabbed my blade that had served me well over the years, and stepped into the bathtub. I didn't cry, I didn't shake in fear of what I was about to do. I sadly smiled instead. As I took my hoodie off, revealing a tank top that no one knew I owned. I set my hoodie softly onto the floor, and turned on the hot water.

I took a deep breath in, and sigh, grabbing my blade and getting to work on my first artery. It took me a couple tries to find it.

But once I did, it started the red tint in the once clear bath water. I took in a shaky breath, adjusting to the dizziness of loosing so much blood so quickly.

At this point I couldn't even hear the bathwater running, everything was muffled.

I reached to turn it off, and a hand was placed onto mine. It takes me a good second to register that there was someone next to the tub, yelling my name right next to my face.

I try my best to focus on who could have caught me. Yet it's so difficult to take in my surroundings at this point.

So as I stare at the person beside my bathtub with fading eyes. I feel pressure on my wound, and see something being wrapped around it.

I start panicking, trying to say no, to let me die.

But I just can't. I just watch as my life is saved against my will.

Suddenly I can see that I'm moving, I can't figure out how until I notice the arms carrying me bridal style to a soft surface. That's when I lost consciousness for the next hour.

I didn't exactly 'wake up' more like fazed into existence. It's like I just gradually became aware of what was around me.

I became aware of the sobs coming from my bedside, and of the pressure squeezing my hand.

I forced my eyes open and tried to sit up. Yet I instantly regretted my decision, pain shot throughout my body. I glance over to my hand and up the....purple arm....

Who is this? Or perhaps I should say, what is this?

It's some kind of...monster? Hybrid? It looked kind of human... I could only see the torso and up. Even then, the arms grew bigger the farther down the arms stretched, and turned a deeper and deeper shade of purple. Horns poked out of the head laying slightly onto my shin, poking me a bit.

" Am-" I hold my throat. That hurt. I clear my throat of the mucus and start again as the unknown monster wakes up,

" Am I dead?"

The monsters head shoots up, and I can't help but recognize the 'eyes' that I've grown to love.

" T-Tom..."

He tries to smile for me, but it twists into a sad frown as his black orbs start to water,

" (Y/n)....(y/n) you're...y-you're okay! You're okay..." He said this over and over again as he cupped my cheeks with his transformed hands.

I grab onto his forearm to steady his shaking. This was starting to scare me.

I had never seen this man shed a tear in front of me, yet alone bawl into my shoulder like he was doing now,

" Tom, it's okay, I'm right here." I whispered this, and many other reassurances into his ear. Confirming to him that it was going to be okay and that, to my displeasure, I wasn't going anywhere.

He seemed to get angry after a few minutes, he ripped himself away from me and took hold of my shoulders,

" WHAT IF YOU WEREN'T RIGHT HERE? WHAT IF I HADN'T OF WALKED IN!! WHAT THEN HUH? YOU WOULDN'T BE RIGHT HERE!!! YOU'D BE GONE!! I would have...lost you..." He slid down the side of my bed as he finished his outburst. He sat crying into his knees.

I didn't know what to do. Is he mad at me? But despite the questions, I acted without thinking.

I began to run my fingers through his hair, almost brushing it. He seemed surprised at first, before he leaned into my touch.

" I'm sorry Tom. I didn't think it would effect you like this..." All was silent for a few moments. Until,

" Why..?" He sniffled a few times before I could respond.

" Why? Why what?" He looked up to me,

" Why would you try to leave me?" I couldn't even bring myself to say anything after that. Tom seemed to sense the frog in my throat, and continued,

" You don't realize, (y/n). You don't realize how special you are. To your family, your friends. I mean bloody hell (y/n)! What about us?! Edd would be heartbroken! And how are we supposed to explain something like that to Matt?" I avoided the possible eye contact and twidled my thumbs in my lap,

" What about me (y/n)? How am I supposed to go on living with myself if you, the love of my life, killed herself?" My mind went blank. He took my hand in between both of his,

" I know this isn't the greatest time for this, but if it'll boost your self esteem even a little bit, I don't care about embarrassing myself. (Y/n) (L/n), I am deeply in love with you, and have been since you moved in. I've loved you since you helped me to bed when I came in drunk all those years ago. I've loved you since you beat my Pac-Man score at the arcade, I acted so mad, but you were just so cute so excited like that... (Y/n)... Please let me help you love yourself by loving you..."

By the time he was done with his speech, I was in tears, a small frown on my face. He seemed to get the wrong idea as he instantly dropped my hand and got up,

" I got the message, I'll just uhm... I'll just g-" I grabbed his hoodie strings and pulled him in for a kiss.

We could both tell that there would be many more to come.

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I'm sorry if it's extremely long, I just love to write angst haha...

25 notes · View notes

hanjizung · 3 years

Text

Gym buddies.

Changbin x Reader.

Word count: 2.8K

♡ Warnings ♡: smut, fingering, oral (f), spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie, unprotected sex.

Second request [12) "you don't have to be gentle with me, I don't break easily”] from this list. Hope you enjoy it!!

You had seen him around at the gym a few days ago, your eyes trying to dissimulate how you practically ate him up, staring shamelessly at his big muscles through the mirror whenever he was lifting weights.

He was a regular there, just like you, so of course you were sure that he had seen you there, confirming that one day when you accidentally looked at him through the corner of your eye checking you out. He was biting his lip as he examined your body without knowing that you were staring at him, blushing when you were aware he had his eyes on you.

Since that day when you felt his piercing gaze on you, you started wearing tight clothes and staying more than what you used to after your routines hoping that he would approach you and talk to you, ask you on a date or something, anything.

But he never did, he always went to shower when he received a call at almost midnight. You always saw him picking up his phone at 11:40 pm, when the only people actually using the gym machinery were you and him, the quiet voices of the receptionists and music playing helped keep your mind distracted to the point where you stopped caring about your nameless gym buddy who wasn’t actually your buddy but that you still considered as one.

You sighed in defeat the fifth night he got a call, thinking that maybe he had a girlfriend to go back to at his home and that now he was off limits.

And since you lost interest in him, because in your mind that handsome stranger was already taken, you decided to change your routine hours. Again.

You turned off the alarm that indicated it was finally 9 pm, taking a towel and wiping the sweat off your forehead and looked around to the barely empty room. As usual, your 'gym buddy' was doing something in the machine he always used on thursdays, and at the other end of the place there was a couple flirting, the girl was giggling while the guy showed her his biceps.

You laughed, taking a sip of water from your bottle and walking to the lockers, taking your clean towel and walking to the showers ready to wash away all the gross fluids from your session.

The showers of the gym weren’t divided by gender, it was all a row of showers protected by walls and at the very back there was a sauna located that only vips were allowed to use, vips like yourself.

It was early, you could get in there and relax for a few minutes before driving home, so you went there instead of walking straight to the showers, closing the door behind you and closing your eyes when the room started to fill with steam.

The wooden door opened again, making you look in that direction alerted as to who was the person behind it, finding it difficult to see past all the steam that tried to escape through the door. It closed quickly, and soon, your gym buddy sat next to you, shirtless and probably naked under the towel wrapped around his waist.

When you realized who he was, your body tensed and you instantly looked away from him, closing your eyes tightly, mentally thankful that your cheeks were already hot from the steam to make it less obvious how much his presence affected you.

Trying too hard to ignore his existence, he seemed to have other plans in mind, clearing his throat to say something and interrupt the awkward silence between the two of you.

"Hey" his voice scared you at first, making you open your eyes to look at him. "I've seen you around here a lot. I'm Changbin, by the way."

He was looking at you through the steam, a kind smile on his face while he waited for your response to his meeting. You decided a simple nod would be too rude, so you finally opted to respond him.

"Nice to meet you, I'm glad to finally give a name to your face, gym buddy. You can call me Y/N" you answered, looking away from him and closing your eyes, trying your hardest to relax one more time.

Next to you, you heard the man hum, acknowledging your name. You spent a few minutes like that, feeling how he shamelessly looked at you up and down and was probably imagining how you looked under the towel.

Or at least that's what you wished he was doing, because thinking about him imagining what you looked like completely naked was turning you on, as much as you'd like to deny that. Fuck…

"Can I ask you something?" the question coming out of nowhere got your attention, and you opened your eyes to look at him with clear confusion drawn in your face. What could he probably want to ask you?

"Sure, ask ahead, Changbin" you blinked, you thought you saw his jaw tensing, but quickly made that thought to the side when he licked his beautiful lips to talk again.

"Why did you change the hours of your routine? I remember you used to arrive later than me and now when I get here you're halfway through your routine" his tone of voice lowered until the ending of his sentence was just a whisper. He noticed that you didn't spend the same time you used to, but you didn't know what to say now that he actually talked to you and brought it up.

"... I'd rather not talk about it. But why are you asking, do you miss me or something?" you asked him back, an eyebrow raised in a questioning way. He looked down at his hands resting on his thick thighs and sighed in defeat.

"I do, actually. I've been leaving earlier too" he admitted. That statement alone made you open your eyes wide.

"Yeah, sure, you're saying that you miss me but you're leaving earlier to spend more time with your girlfriend" you blurted.

Your hands flew to your mouth once you realized what you had said. You felt your heart shrinking and going pale. And just as quickly as you had said that, you stood up and made your way to the door, placing your hand on the handle without turning to look at Changbin's reaction.

Great, now you would have to look for another gymnasium to keep working out, your annual subscription to this one was all gone to waste and all of that because you weren’t thinking clear. You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you, but that was impossible. The only solution was running out of there and never looking back, forget you even met Changbin.

You stepped out of there, making your way to the showers. You stepped inside a cubicle, letting a surprised noise when another body pressed against yours and trapped you.

Large hands on your waist made you turn, Changbin's lips lost no time and instantly kissed yours with intensity.

"I don't have a girlfriend…" he murmured, resting his forehead against yours and sighing. Your lips felt tingly, a little numb from the kiss he had just given you, and you finally smiled in relief when your mind processed his words.

"You have no idea how badly I wanted to hear you say those words" your arms rested around his shoulders, you pulled him closer again to return the kiss, this time being sweeter but still full with want, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips and play with yours until you both felt the lack of air in your lungs.

Changbin's body was pressed against you, close enough for you to feel his growing erection through the towel, making you blush at the contact. You were too flustered thinking about him that you didn't notice when his lips started traveling down on your neck, his hands firmly placed on your hips to keep you in place.

But you froze.

What were you thinking? This was a gym, the showers of a gym to be more exact, it was no place to be having sex.

As much as you also wanted Changbin to fuck you, you also were decent enough to wait to be somewhere else. "Changbin… Let's… let's stop, please" you pushed him away from you, his attentive eyes locking instantly with yours.

"I'm sorry, I understand if you don't want to continue, sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable" he apologized without even waiting for you to explain why you had asked him to stop.

"Changbin, I still want to do it, just… Not here. Let's go to my house, I live near, what do you say?" a smile on his face let you know he was fine with that and he walked out of your stall to get dressed. When you two were presentable again he followed you to your car to get to your place.

It was a quiet ride to your small department, Changbin rushed out of the car as soon as you parked to open your door with a kind smile adorning his face. You blushed at his act, making sure the car was safely locked and you walked to your home, Changbin followed you close behind.

Once you closed the door, Changbin tugged your arm and kissed you sweetly, almost as if he was afraid to hurt you. It made your heart swell, he was being really gentle and careful with you, and you appreciated the gesture.

But you'd seen that man working out, you'd been at the presence of his muscles and had seen how strong he was.

That was what you wanted, what you desired.

"Changbin" you separated from him, taking his face in your hands and looking at him with eyes full of lust "you don't have to be gentle with me, I don't break easily" you murmured, kissing his neck and taking his jacket off.

You heard him groan when you sucked on the skin of his neck, his pants getting tighter as his erection got harder, and he opted to stop losing time and give you what you wanted.

He turned you around, getting a surprised gasp out of your lips as he pushed your front against the door and pulled your joggers and panties down. You felt his hand snaking down through your torso, until his fingers found your aching sex. His fingers spreaded your folds, looking for that sensitive nub that would have your knees weak in no time.

You whimpered when Changbin found the objective, you moved in a bending position so you would be more comfortable. He removed his fingers from you, making you whine in complaint at the loss of stimulation, but soon those fingers were back touching you, feeling how he was making you feel.

He passed his fingers through your slit, making you look at him over your shoulder to find him kneeling, his face in front of your sex and his eyes incredibly dark, the view made you moan and when he stopped teasing your entrance and pushed a finger inside you, you closed your eyes and gasped deliciously.

Pumping his fingers in and out of you, you felt your orgasm building more and more as the volume of your moans and incoherent babbling also increased, and just when you thought he was going to let you cum, Changbin removed his fingers from you. You whined, looking at him once again.

Both of his hands on your ass, he separated your butt cheeks and his tongue came in contact with your desperate pussy.

Your legs trembled, so you allowed your weight to fall against the door, one of your hands moving behind you to grab his head and push him further towards you, his tongue sinking more into you, making your insides feel warm and wetter.

But that wasn't enough, his tongue was good but you needed him somewhere else.

"Changbin, please…" you whimpered. The man growled, but complied to your silent request by cocooning your clit with his plump lips, kissing you there gently.

You felt your orgasm again, you clenched around nothing, and even before you could warn Changbin that you were about to cum, he talked with a raspy voice "I know you're close. Cum for me, angel."

And you followed his order, your juices slipping down your legs. Changbin hurried to try his best and lick you clean, but your shaky legs got his attention first, you seemed so weak… his cock twitched from seeing you so defenseless, breathing hard against the door, with your cheek pressed against the cold material it was made of.

He couldn't resist anymore, pulling his clothes down enough to free his throbbing cock. Changbin passed the red head of his member through your pussy before allowing himself inside you, letting out the sexiest moan you'd ever heard a man make, the sound of him making you clench around him to see if he would make that sinful noise again.

And he did, this time accompanied with a "fuck, you're… So tight around me, angel" with his raspy voice, driving you crazy.

He was gripping your waist, keeping you in place when he started to move slowly.

Your legs were shaking and you got to the conclusion that the only reason you were still standing was because he was holding you, using your hole to find his sweet release.

A slap on your ass got your attention, making you jump and moan when you started feeling the stinging on your butt, turning your neck to see him caressing the place of the impact, the skin there starting to change color.

"Do it… Do it again" you demanded between moans. He smiled, the pace of his thrust were still a little slow but the force of his palm against your ass recompensed the roughness you wanted from him.

You were met with another slap, this time on the other side and you moaned a little louder, and then suddenly he was pulling on your hair to bring you to his chest. You'd never had your hair being pulled before, but it was hot. He did it carefully, but determined. The sudden pull coming out of nowhere surprised you.

He let go of your hair, tangling his arms with yours behind your arched back and his thrust started increasing in speed.

"A-ah! Please, go faster!" you babbled.

"You can barely stand…" firm thrust came with his words, "and you want me to go faster? You're… you're such a needy baby" somehow, he managed to hold both of your arms with one of his and his free hand snaked down to your torso, pulling your shirt up and squeezing your boobs.

"Yes! I'm so needy f-for you… I need you Changbin… ah!" a pinch on your nipple distracted you.

"Please make me cum, make me f-feel good" you cried out.

He complied to your wishes, the new rhythm making you jump up and down faster and his cock inside you brushed against that sweet spot that had your mind completely blank. It didn't take much longer for you to cum again, your walls becoming tighter and making it harder for Changbin to hold his own release as well.

Everything felt so good, his fingers playing with your nipple and his dick buried deep inside you, it was all too much to process and your brain felt like static, you didn't even realize your eyes were closed and that you were cumming again.

"F-fuck, Y/N… I'm gonna cum soon, can I come inside you?" he asked, irregular breathing and tone agitated from all the effort he was putting on making you feel good.

Still recovering from your own high, you nodded at him and he finally allowed his climax to paint your insides a hot white, his thrusts stopping, both of you trying to catch your breath.

You stayed like that for a long, eternal minute, his seed feeling so warm inside you, it was a hot sensation, you liked it.

And then he finally pulled out completely from you, looking how his seed came out of your used hole and staring in fascination at the mess between your legs.

Noticing how your legs were inestable, Changbin took you in his arms and carried you to your comfy couch, sitting you on his lap.

"I have to admit, you're tougher than what you look like" he chuckled silently, making you blush.

"I'll take that as a compliment. You're pretty strong yourself, the gym really paid off for you, buddy" you answered him, your hand traveling to his bicep and squeezing it while you bit your lip. Now it was his time to blush slightly.

"How do you feel? Can you stand up or do you need to rest a little more?" his worried tone made your heart turn inside you, he seemed so preoccupied for you, it was very sweet.

"I'm good. We should have a round two in the shower" your eyebrows went up and down with the suggestion you made, making him giggle cutely.

"If we keep going you won't be able to walk or talk tomorrow, Y/N" Changbin warned, pinching your thigh playfully..

"Really? Now I wanna see if that's true."

"I'm not a liar, angel. Come on, let's go for that round two then."

#stayverse #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz smut #skz fanfic #changbin x reader #changbin x you #changbin smut #changbin fanfic

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omnitf · 3 years

Photo

Soulless

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Credit for this image goes to @dissolving-time. Follow this link to see the original post.

If you like this and my other stories, please consider supporting me on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/omnitf

Thank you, and enjoy the story! :D

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I used to be different than the man you see today. They say the industry changes you, and I suppose they’re right, whoever they are. I’ve been a model for ... I don’t even know how many years now. Like I said, things used to be different.

It was just one photo shoot. I didn’t expect to be such a hit. It was a million in a million in a million chance. Audition, smile to the cameras, wear the gear, sell the product, get paid in royalties. It was a straightforward business arrangement. Folks say they like to have models with a lot of heart and soul. Now that I think about it, that’s what the company said when they hired me.

My agent got the call, and then he called me. He barely kept himself from shouting as he told me the details. Daemonique was and still is one of the premier modeling brands out there. It costs a bundle and a half to even have them consider lending you their talent. Runways, photo ops, fashion articles, the works. If they looked at you, if they chose you, then you were in. You were set for life.

I was floored. Naturally, I said yes. I signed the contract and joined my fellow models in the spotlight, and my agent was offered a hefty sum for snatching me. He still lives very well, from what I understand. Daemonique poached him from his firm, something about being a, “devil of a recruiter.” We still talk sometimes, but usually it’s just when he offers me my new assignment. Sometimes, he brings new talent with him to meet me. People worship me, idolize me.

That used to impress me. Now I feel ... indifferent, I suppose. It’s ... difficult to describe. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the attention, more that ... I suppose I slide into whatever they want me to be. That’s my purpose as a model.

I remember when I was introduced to my hero in the modeling community, Nathan Bolaterro. My smile was radiant, my handshake firm and only slightly exaggerated. His smile was reserved, his bearing shifting to accommodate me.

“There are many models here,” he told me, “with many masks, many faces. It’s ... difficult to keep track of what brought you here sometimes, the ‘you’ that you put into your shoots. Make sure that you don’t lose track of it. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He looked almost sadly at a playbill with a beaming teenager wrapping either arm around another two other teens’ shoulders on stage. There were four of them, identically dressed in the traditional garb of the barber shop quartet from The Music Man. I could just barely see the resemblance between the middle left boy and the man that stood before me now.

One of the many agents that runs this place strode through the door then. “Nate, it’s time for your sports segment.”

The model swallowed heavily, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as a result. “Coming,” he said in a low-pitched tone. His gaze darted back toward that photo almost desperately. Then he turned his back and followed his handler out. I followed them into the hall, since it would be rude to remain in his dressing room.

“Do well on this one, and you’ll be a shoe-in for Soulless.” The agent grinned and thumped Nathan on the back. My breath caught at the mention of that great fashion line. Only the best of the best of the best in the agency could make it into that exalted circle.

I was confused when I saw, not a joyful smile, but a frown of unease cross over the model’s face.

The next time I saw him, he was getting out of a session for some sports magazine spread or some other campaign. His body was huge, his voice deep and dull. The familiar brand name Soulless stretched down one meaty thigh in big capital letters over the compression pants and widely across his left pectoral as he scratched the material of his compression shirt with his free hand. “You talking to me, bro?” He didn’t seem to recognize me. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. They seemed almost dead as he stared at me through the open visor of a football helmet. The angular shape of the opening gave his head an almost block-like appearance. The rich hair that had once been so carefully styled was little more than sculpted stubble now. His pupils vibrated, like they didn’t know whether to dilate or contract. Or ... maybe they were trying to, but couldn’t? “The name’s Jock....”

I still remember how freaked out I was after that encounter. My agent had to explain it to me, about Nathan’s “methods.” A lot of the models follow it, apparently. I guess ... I guess I do, too, now that I stop to think about it. There’s a sort of role that we’re asked to fill for each of our shoots. Whatever we model, the photographer wants us to fit certain ... characters, tropes, if you will. These tropes have names, and we don them as easily as we do makeup or an outfit for the cameras. Jock, Brat, Badboy, Greaser, Guido, Father, Hipster, Businessman, and so on.

It’s ... easy to forget your name when you’re in this community. You become almost numb to it. You have to, if you want to survive the media storms that follow you around. Let go of the power that name has over you, and you can usually ignore most of the reporters or rabid fans trying to get your attention. It’s a trick you learn fast in the business, once you make it big. And all Daemonique models make it big. Sometimes, when I have to sign a waiver or some other legal document, I pause and stare at the line, and I have to grope in the dark to try to find the name I cast away. Sometimes, it’s suggested that I just sign with an X, like a lot of the other models do, but I don’t want to yet. I still want to be able to keep that power of the name with me. If I stop using it there, it’ll be harder to ... to ... what? I’m not sure. Remember? Pull back? Be myself?

What even is “myself” anymore? I’m ... I’m not sure.

I’ve taken to carrying the photo that brought me to Daemonique’s attention with me. I find it ... grounding to stare at. Almost comforting, really. I talk to it sometimes, greet it with my name, almost like it’s another person. I guess ... in a way, it is. It’s sort of like a lifeline to me, a connection to the me that was before all the lights and the cameras and the flashes and masks I’ve had to don for the sake of the shoot, the product, the image that Daemonique wants me to fit.

I feel less and less like a person and more and more like some ... glorified prop, a life-sized doll that my handlers change, dress, shift, and adapt to their whims. And the scary part is, ... I’m okay with that. I ... almost relish slipping into those characters and roles now, because they fill that emptiness that I return to when I take them off. The face I see in the mirror of my dressing room is so ... alien to me now. It’s nothing like the face I see when I look at this photo. And that emptiness is reinforced whenever I get in line with the other models for our weekly assessments. There’s no real talking, just standing, waiting, moving in time as the camera shutter clicks, snaps, clacks. The model turns, the process repeats, until all the sides are captured. Then we move forward, and the next one follows. The young bloods toward the back of the line whisper and talk among themselves. I used to do that, too, to be that. Now, ... now it feels so ... unnecessary. I stand among my peers, where quiet is the norm and blank the ideal. A canvas waiting to be painted. A whiteboard waiting to be drawn up, then cleared.

...

A walking, talking mannequin.

Is that all I am now?

Is that all my purpose is?

Is this ... really what I want?

...

Does it really even matter anymore?

I feel so strange, so stripped, so ... empty, even as I stand on that line now, waiting for that photo set. I pull out my photo for comfort. That tiny spark is only so much against the yawning void that’s eaten away inside of me. A wry smile curves my lips, one of the first sincere ones I’ve had in who knows how long.

Did you know that some cultures believed that to capture yourself in a photo was to capture a piece of your soul? By that logic, every human who’s ever consumed media or pictures is a demon, or at least part demon. They consume those fragments, those pieces. And the models and actors and actresses let them. And they fill up with other things and ideas, just like I do when I’m in a shoot. They’re just as empty, just as desperate for fulfillment, a role, even a piece, a taste of the soul they used to be.

I barely even recognize the feel of the textured mat when I step in front of the camera. I stare into the lens, still holding the photo. The shutter clacks. The light flashes. My shadow is thrown up in sharp relief behind me on the backdrop. I blink. For a moment, I could almost swear that I see sharpened teeth bared in a hungry, anticipatory grin. Clack goes the shutter. Flash goes the light. Around I turn. I feel no sense of fear or worry at the sight of the horns. I feel ... nothing. I turn again and watch my shadow flash in front of me, then fade into the nothingness of the backdrop. Just a 2-D silhouette. No substance, no form, just here and gone in a flash of light and the click of a shutter.

I feel no anxiety at the sound of clopping hooves echoing in my ears as I turn again. I’m just going through the motions, following the formula. They want a blank slate. They want the empty. They want a foundation they can build and mold like clay in their hands. Malleable. Easy to shape and control. No complaints. No thoughts or discomforts. Just ... being. Just existing.

...

Empty.

I look down at my photo. There is no more thrill at it. No spark. No joy. No connection. Whatever power it held has been stripped by the camera. It is a person I do not know, a blank face in a crowd. I see no light in those eyes, no life, no ... soul, to use the company term. I see only a picture, a pointless picture.

Flash. Clatter. Flutter. Smack. The photo is no longer in my hand as I turn to face the camera again. The creature before me leers behind the camera as one final shutter goes off, one last flash. He licks his lips as his tail lashes behind him.

I turn and march as the other models before me on the line have done. Another paper is shoved at me. I do not bother with the name this time. An X will suffice.

My agent is there next to me suddenly. The soles of his shoes clunk with a rhythmic clopping, almost like hooves. He adjusts the waistband of his pants uncomfortably, then rubs at the nubs that I see growing from his forehead. He seems to be sweating for some reason. I’m not sure why as he breaths heavily. I can just see the hints of longer pointed canines protruding from his lips. He raises his phone and snaps a picture of me. I don’t blink.

“I think he’s ready, Sir.”

This time, I do blink. When I open my eyes, there is a bigger agent hovering over his shoulder. This one is like the photographer. The air smells of aftershave with a hint of sulfur as he leans down to peer into my eyes. I don’t care. I stare into an abyss like my own. This one has lights, but it it is different than mine was. It is not so much an absence of substance as a consumer of it. For the briefest of moments, I feel what could almost be considered a suction, a vacuous force seeking to draw something out of me, only there’s nothing to take. Nothing moves, nothing comes, because whatever that vacuum consumes is not there.

The grin that spreads across that face is savage and predatory. “Well done.” He lays a heavy clawed hand on my agent’s shoulder.

My agent shudders as his eyes flicker briefly and corrugated black horns slowly begin to emerge from the nubs. He licks his lips, and as he does so, flashes of his sharpening teeth appear in my gaze. He swallows and gulps, and as the pressure from what I can only assume is his supervisor increases, he hunches forward precariously on the balls of his feet as the beginnings of a tail bursts out behind him, having broken free of the confines of the seat of his pants.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” he repeats breathlessly as he stands up again. His cheeks are flushed from the sudden changes that have overtaken his body.

“Keep it up, and you’ll fit right in in no time.”

“Y-yes, Sir.” He smiles almost timidly, but there’s a hint of bite to it as his sharper teeth peek over the edges of his lips.

They motion for me to follow, and I do so without question.

“What will he, uh, it, become, Sir?”

The supervisor grins as we approach a large black door with red gilded lettering on its front in an angular archaic font that reads, SOULLESS. “Whatever we want it to be.”

The door opens, and I step forward, ready to take on whatever role my owners require. I am ready to be filled. I am blank.

“Welcome to Soulless, slate.”

My response is as numb and empty as I feel. “Thank you, Sir.”

I am nothing more than a dummy shuffled from caricature to caricature. That is my purpose and my role. When my work is complete, I am wiped clean, a blank slate again, to be molded and shaped as my handlers please. This is the fate of the soulless, and the soulless do not care.

I am Jock. I am Bear. I am Thug. I am Guido. I am Officer. I am Soldier. I am Father. I am Son. I am King. I am Peasant. I am Extra. I am everything and nothing. I am one of a legion of slates waiting to be wiped clean or filled according to our handlers’ whims.

We are legion.

We are the empty.

We are Soulless.

#transformation #jock #Model #conditioning #muscle #blank #Soulless #slate #no identity #fiction #demons #tf

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mouse-fantoms · 3 years

Text

Wisdom Teeth

This is completely bc of @blush-and-books post, this is comepley your doing Julie gets her wisdom teeth out, Luke sticks around to help her, somethings are said

“What’s the plan for today boss?” Luke asked Julie when she came into the studio.

“Well,” she addressed her band, “looks like we’ll have the week off from practicing together since I have to get my wisdom teeth taken out.”

“Ick!” They all shared the same disgusted expression.

“Oh!” Even though one could not forget that her band mates were ghosts, it slipped her mind about their pasts. They did have lives before meeting her. They had become so improtant to her in the present that the past slipped her mind. None the less, whenever their past was mentioned, she was curious. “You guys have had them taken out?”

“Couldn’t do anything for about a week.” Luke groaned, remembering the experience.

“And Reg helped you ‘learn’ guitar because you thought you didn’t know how.” Alex input.

“Why’d you ‘help’ him?” Julie’s eyebrows knit.

“He was heartbreaken! I couldn’t just leave him to think he couldn’t.” He explained. “And then Alex was-”

“Oh if you think I compliment you all time,” Luke looked to Julie, “if Alex is under anesthesia oh he will not hold back.”

“I was out of it. My head was in the clouds.” He recalled.

“You still mean what you said about me having a perfect smile?” Luke flashed his said smile.

“Okay but I was nothing compared to what Reggie was like.”

“Oh come on guys.” He looked down, not wanting them to bring up the embarrassing memory.

“What happened?” Julie asked curious.

Alex explained, “We helped walk him out of the building and he started flirting with the cars.”

“...it wasn’t flirting.”

“You said ‘That’s a lovely shade of red, you should wear it more often’ to a convertible.”

“Okay all of us were pretty out of it.” Reggie concluded.

“Well, you guys won’t have to worry about me because Dad will be taking care of me.”

Her statement turned out to be particularly true. Julie however, might have topped Reggie’s ‘flirting with a car’ wisdom teeth story.

~~~

“How long as it been?” Luke wondered. “Since she left?”

“Please tell me you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.” Alex could tell right away.

“What?”

“She’s only been gone 30 minutes.” Reggie answered Luke’s previous question.

“And how long did ours take?”

“She’ll be out of it. She won’t be making sense.” The blond knew that wouldn’t stop him.

“I’m sorry that I’m concerned about the well being of our band mate.” Luke put a hand on his heart excusing his actions.

“Our band mate being Julie.” Reggie added how she wasn’t just any band mate.

“Fine you guys can sit on your butts while I go see how she’s doing.” Neither stopped him from poofing our because there would be no talking out Luke Patterson from checking on Julie Molina.

After poking his head in a few rooms, he finally found where Julie was after seeing two people in scrubs leave alongside someone in a white coat. He entered through the door just before they closed it. The chair was in the middle of the room, the back towards the door. He saw Julie’s head rested on her shoulder, she hadn’t waken up yet. There was a set of two chairs against the wall on the right. He took a seat in the chair that was closest to her.

Once he sat down, she started to move her head. The classic ‘I-probably-should-get-up-but-I-don’t-want-to-get-up-yet’ move. She moved her head to the center of the head rest and her eyes opened. Feeling the throbbing pain in the back of her jaw she went to feel it.

“You just got your wisdom teeth out, remember?” He reminded.

“Luke,” she said endearing, speech slurred, her head turning to him, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Wow. He was so glad Reggie or Alex weren’t in the room to see him blushing like crazy.

“Me too.” He finally found the words. “They probably went to get your dad. They’ll be back in a little.”

“It hurts.” She said in reference to her mouth.

“It should feel a little numb from where they had to take them out. You might be swollen later.” He remembered his experience. “But maybe you’ll get ice cream later that helps with the pain.”

“Ice cream!” She perked up. “Will you get me ice cream?”

It was hard not the resist the eyes that had stars in them. “I mean,” he breathed, “yeah if you... if you want me to.”

“I only want you.”

Wow! She must have been under some serious anesthesia.

He hesitated, “You don’t,” he fidgeted in the chair, “mean that.”

It was just the anesthesia talking. Obviously.

“Of course I do.” She put her right arm down on the arm of the chair. “Why else would I decline a date with Nick?”

“...a what now?” His mouth a gap from shock.

“You and me connect in some many ways. Flynn has no idea what she’s talking about by saying you’re ‘just air’.”

He didn’t know whether to be offended or taken aback with the words coming out of her mouth, probably a bit of both.

THAT ANESTHESIA WAS REALLY TALKING!

“You and I dance way better than him.”

“...dance?”

“Yeah, when you came through the mirror when Nick and I were in dance class. Your hair all pushed back, looking goofy.” He couldn’t tell if her smile was from looking back fondly on the memory or laughing at him. “Our song was-”

“Our song?” Either the anesthesia was making her really really looping or he was hearing something he probably was never met to.

“I had to write it down considering how amazing it was. We truly are in Perfect Harmony. I put it in my dream box to get it out of my mind. Even though I don’t get why I would.” She laughed at herself.

Before he could ever find the words to say, the door opened and in came the specialists along with Ray. He poofed away into the garage feeling like he found out something he was never supposed to know.

~~~

It had been some hours later since Julie had gotten home from getting her wisdom teeth removed. It had also been a few hours since the anesthesia had worn off.

“Do you need anything?” Luke asked, hands in his pocket, at the foot of Julie’s bed.

“I already told you I’m fine.” She said, gauges in her mouth. “Dad told me to text him if I need anything.”

“But I’m asking you if you need anything. Do you want that ice cream yet?”

She blinked. “What?”

“You asked if I could get you ice cream later after I said that’s one thing that helps with the pain.”

She had a vague memory of seeing Luke when she opened her eyes.

“Just wanted to check and see how you were doing.” He excused.

“What else did I say?” She asked curious.

“Oh you know... the usually loopy things you say on anesthesia.”

“If you do get it will that make you stop asking if I need anything?”

His smile was her answer.

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes though smile appeared too, “I’ll take the ice cream. Make sure Dad doesn’t see floating ice cream.”

She watched as he poofed away. He poofed into the kitchen, first checking to see if anyone was nearby. Once making sure the coast was clear he opened the freezer and spotted the tub of ice cream, he grabbed it then opened the silverware drawer and took a spoon out setting it on the lid on the container.

However, before he poofed back to her room, he had a sudden idea. He poofed to the garage, ice cream in hand slightly forgetting about it. He set the tub down on the coffee table.

“Not for you,” he told Reggie who was sat on the couch, “for Julie.”

“So that’s where you’ve been.” He heard Alex say from his drums.

He didn’t respond to the comment and instead made his way up to the loft. “Do you mind if I look for something in your bag Reg?”

“...guess not?” He replied confused.

He watched as Luke took his black backpack and upzipped the small pocket. “Ah ha!” He exclaimed pulling out a comb.

Alex moved away from his drum set in order to see Luke up in the loft.

“Wow... a comb.” He said clearly amused.

They watched as he used it.

“How do I look?” He put down the comb and extended his arms for effect.

“Like a goof.” Alex let out.

“...interesting.” Reggie answered.

“Perfect!” He went down the ladder, grabbed the ice cream on the coffee table and poofed to Julie’s room.

“Voilà!” Julie saw the ice cream container be placed next to her on bed from the corner of her eye.

“Tha-“ she looked up to thank him but was caught off guard. “Luke,” she addressed, “what are doing?”

“Was just seeing something.” He played off as he russled his hair to return it to his forehead. As he did, Julie had a sudden thought.

“...you know about Perfect Harmony don’t you?”

“I may or may not know of the existence of a certain song that’s in your dream box.”

She put a hand to her head, not believing that she let it slip.

“Also perhaps may or may not know of you declining a date with that Nick guy.”

“Did I say anything else?” She wondered if she embarrassed herself even more.

“No that was pretty much it.” He said rather quickly. “Also if you could tell Flynn the ‘just air’ comment is a little insulting and I’d rather not be referred to as that.” He said before poofing away.

Something told her that the next songwriting session between them would be a little bit different to say the least.

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vergilthelibrarian · 4 years

Text

Dream of Me, pt.2.

To the anon who asked me to write a second part to this, here ya go! I’m might turn this into a series cause I’m actually genuinely interested in what I’m writing.

TW: mentions of self harm

Part.1

Yandere!PsychDoctor!SichengxGenderNetural!Reader

Walking into the day room, you looked around, eyes landing on Jisung who soon saw you.

His eyes lit up and he smiled and you smiled too, walking and taking a seat next to him.

“Hey.”

“Did you sleep well?” you asked him and he shrugged.

“A little. Not gonna lie, I was kinda scared.” he answered.

“I get it. I was too when I first went to a psych ward. I cried myself to sleep actually.

“Really?”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

You two started talking, mostly getting to know each other.

“I’m in my first year of university. I’m majoring in dance.” he said proudly.

“That’s awesome! I got a degree in music and I was going for my masters before I moved back here.” you said.

“Why is that?” Jisung asked and you glanced away.

“I was kinda forced to move back here. Past demons catching up with me and all.” you told him.

“Is it because of your doctor? I saw him go into your room last night…” he whispered to you and your eyes widen for a bit before going back to normal.

“I… Jisung-”

“I’m sorry if I struck a nerve or-”

“It’s okay Jisung.” you said.

You sighed.

“My doctor is a childhood friend of mine so he knows me. I don’t really like talking about him though.” and he nodded.

“It’s cool. I don’t want to make you upset or uncomfortable or anything.”

You two looked up as you saw a young man walk into the room who you instantly recognized.

“Hey Taeyong.” you waved and the tired looking man stopped in his tracks and looked at you. He waved at you before walking to a chair and sitting down, crossing his legs and turning his attention to the TV.

Soon you saw your doctor walk in, a gentle smile on his face.

“Y/n. I see you’re out today and you’re making friends.” he stopped in front of you, glancing at Jisung for a bit while Jisung gave a small smile in return.

“Let’s go to your room for a bit and see how you’re doing?”

You nodded, getting up and walking off with the doctor to your room.

Once you got into your room, you sat down on your bed, facing Sicheng as he took a seat in the chair.

“How are you today?” he asked.

“Why do you keep asking me this? It’s not like as if you’re gonna let me leave this place anyway.” you said looking at him annoyed.

Sicheng chuckled.

“You’re right about that.” he said with a smirked.

Ever since finding out that Sicheng was your doctor, you knew that he was gonna somehow use his position and power to make it harder for you to leave despite being the cause for your stay at the psych ward in the first place.

You pulled at your fingers, your eyes soon on your lap.

You hated the air in the room.

It felt stuffy and awkward and you didn’t feel safe. You wanted to be back in the day room talking with Jisung.

“So… I see you’re talking with a new patient.” Sicheng said.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous. You’re the one who told me yesterday to go out into the day room and talk to others.” and he nodded slowly.

“I did. But I still can’t help but just get a little jealous when I see you’re talking to other people besides me.” he admitted.

He leaned back into the chair, his eyes on you.

“You know, I’ve been talking with my team and I brought up you moving into a long term residential psychiatric program and-”

“What?” you looked up at the doctor, eyes wide.

“Aww, Y/n.” he cooed. “You’re sick. You’re a danger to yourself. If I let you go back outside, who knows what will happen to you.” he said.

“B-but… You can’t do that!” your voice raised as you looked at him in shock.

“I can and I will. You weren’t even taking your medication when you checked in.”

“That’s because you kept throwing them away. You worsened my sickness…”

Sicheng’s jaw clenched and he glanced away.

He looked back at you, his face soften as he said, “I’m only doing this so you realize that I’m the only who can really help you. No one cares for you as much as I do and if you’d just stop resisting me, it wouldn’t have to be like this.” he said before getting up.

“You can go back to the day room now. We’re done for today.” he walked to the door and left the room.

You got up from the bed, rubbing your arm as you walked to the door and left the room.

You went back to the day room only to see Taeyong talking to Jisung.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how Jisung looked a bit uncomfortable while Taeyong talked to him.

They soon noticed you though, their eyes landing on you and Taeyong motioned you to come closer.

You did, taking your seat next to Jisung.

“What did Sicheng say?” Taeyong asked, his eyes now on you.

You sighed.

“He’s thinking about putting me in the long term program.” you told him.

Taeyong frowned and Jisung eyes grew wide.

“What does he even gain from keeping you trapped here?” Taeyong wondered out loud, leaning back into his seat.

You shook your head.

“I don’t know.”

Taeyong himself was a long term resident of the psych hospital. He was schizoaffective and, from what he told you, his mind snapped when he lost his mother. You met Taeyong in your first year of high school, he only being one year higher than you. Everyone knew how much Taeyong loved his mother and when the news came out that she had cancer, he became a bit more sadder than his usual cheerful self but still, he kept his optimism. Everything was fine at one point, his mother had her last chemo treatment and things seemed to be turning up. But then it came back and this time it was worse and the doctors told his family that there was nothing they could do. When his mother passed away last year, his mental health started declining rapidly and with him already being bipolar now being paired with symptoms of schizophrenia, he genuinely felt as though he was losing his mind. Besides all of that, he didn’t tell you much as to what led up to him to being here but he did tell you that it was his relatives who brought him here and suggested to the nurses for him to stay here long term and with how unstable he was, his team decided that that was probably the best thing for him.

“This place is hell. I mean, besides the fact there’s nothing to do here, some of the doctors and nurses will just dope you up with so much drugs to the point were you become numb.” Taeyong said, which was true.

Some of the doctors and nurses just weren’t good people.

They didn’t see the patients as people who were genuinely sick and needed help.

Some of them saw you as lab rats to test new drugs on or as incurable.

One of the patients named Jennie, who only left her room for meal time, had severe BPD and was given so much medication by her doctor that she never really seemed all too there.

She would just sit and stare at the wall.

Never moving, her eyes blinking slowly.

It was sad.

Jisung frowned slightly.

“Isn’t that against the law though?” he asked and Taeyong rolled his eyes.

“The government doesn’t care about insane people. We’re seen as dangers to society just for existing and some of these “doctors” and “nurses” tend to keep those same ideas when they come into this line of work.” he crossed his arms. “And they don’t help us because we need it. They “help” us because we’re considered ticking time bombs that will kill someone the moment we have an episode.”

Jisung shook his head.

“But that’s not true.” he said and Taeyong sighed, looking at him with sad eyes.

“You’re right. It’s not true. But the rest of society still think it is and we, the ones with the illnesses, still suffer because of it.”

Sicheng typed away on his computer when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in.” he said, his eyes soon leaving the screen when he heard it open.

A man in a black three piece suit came in and closed the door.

He took a seat in one of the chairs that face the front of Sicheng’s desk and Sicheng smiled warmly at the man.

“How are you doing Yoonoh?” he asked and Yoonoh made a face as though he was in thought.

“Fine I guess.” he answered.

Sicheng saved his work and closed his laptop, giving his attention back to the man in front of him.

He waited patiently as the man tried to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t know how I’m doing. I don’t know how I’m feeling. Honestly, this life has made me so numb, so desensitized that I don’t even know if I could even have a genuinely healthy relationship with anyone. The fear of them dying a retaliation is just too high.”

Sicheng nodded, his eyes on the man who looked visibly distraught.

“It amazes me how my father was such a sweet man to me and my mother. I genuinely don’t know how he did it. This life makes it so hard to be sweet to others especially since it made me realize how much of a sadist I am.”

Sicheng listened to Yoonoh spill his guts out to him, about his fears, the nightmares he has of those that he killed getting their revenge.

And as Yoonoh talk, he cried.

He always cried during his sessions with Sicheng and Sicheng knew that Yoonoh thought he could only cry here with him because what would his men think of him crying over being raised in a life crime considering he’s the leader of his father’s mafia?

They would think he was a pussy.

After about 30 minutes passed, Yoonoh wiped his eyes, closing his mouth as he was done talking.

But before Sicheng could say anything, something came across Yoonoh’s mind and soon he found himself asking, “How’s Y/n doing? I’ve been thinking about them lately.” he said and Sicheng smiled.

“I’m taking care of them at the hospital. I’m actually planning to become their sole caregiver.”

Yoonoh nodded.

He didn’t want to tell Sicheng but he did felt bad for helping Sicheng force you to come back here, especially since it seemed like you had your entire future ahead of you. He also felt bad that Sicheng was using your mental illnesses against you. He only did things like that to his enemies so he didn’t understand why Sicheng was doing it to you… but love did come in different ways so he usually chalked it up to Sicheng just being in love.

Yoonoh didn’t really question why Sicheng did the things he did to you but he still couldn’t help but feel guilty at helping destroy your future and being stuck with a man who may be missing a few screws himself.

“How are you gonna become their sole caregiver?” he asked curiously.

“Their family already gave me the okay to care for them long term and their friends don’t even know that I was the one that was stalking them all those years ago. Also, no one is gonna question why they’re living with me suddenly since everyone knows we were close friends.”

Yoonoh knew he was right.

Everyone who was raised in this town knew how close you and Sicheng were before you went off to university.

What no one knew however was how your leaving made Sicheng lose it and while he was taking more unconventional routes in order to become a psychiatric, he hired Yoonoh to find out where you were since you deleted all of your old sns accounts before you left and didn’t really tell anyone the college you got accepted into. Once he found you though, Sicheng made it his mission to get you back, no matter how mad he had to drive you.

“Why are you asking about Y/n by the way?” Sicheng asked and Yoonoh ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know. Guilty conscious I guess.” he admitted and Sicheng nodded.

“I understand. But know that Y/n is only safe in my care. I will never let harm come to them.” he said and Yoonoh just nodded.

That might be true but if anyone was to ever harm you, Yoonoh thought, it’d be no one other than Sicheng himself.

You eyes looked to your side, landing on Taeyong’s drawing.

You looked back at the blank paper in front of you, not knowing what to draw.

You decided to go to art therapy with Taeyong since you didn’t want to be in your room all day since you were still hallucinating and talking to both Jisung and Taeyong seemed to be helping a bit.

You’ve always heard a voice in your since you were child and only started visually hallucinating around the time you hit puberty.

The voice started off telling you do to random dangerous things, similar to how intrusive thoughts are but as you got older, the voice became more abusive and since your family didn’t believe you when you told them what was happening, you suffered throughout your entire youth because of that voice, the only people taking your words seriously being your friends.

The voice that would talk to you was a male’s voice. You couldn’t put a name to who it was though so you usually called it Him.

But when Sicheng started stalking you, a new voice appeared and the voice was that of Sicheng.

His voice would tell you in the mostly sickly sweet tone how no one loved you.

How no cared about you.

That your friends were fake and your family hated you.

And you heard his voice tell you this because he was already telling you this himself.

Leaving messages on your phone through voice and text, writing letters and leaving it in your mailbox, telling you how much no one loved you… besides him.

And it really did affected you.

You started distancing yourself from your college friends and by the time you graduated, your mental health was just as bad as it was when you were younger, if not, worse.

The only reason why his words affected you was because of how much you believed him.

Out of all of your friends, Sicheng was the only one who truly comforted you.

You were friends with Taeyong too but he was going through so much back then that you understood why he couldn’t really do much to help you.

But Sicheng…

Sicheng was always there for you and maybe it was selfish of you to just leave your hometown without a word and start a new life at a college in another state but you wanted to get away from your family so badly that you were fine with forgetting about your old friends and moving on.

Starting anew.

You sighed as you picked up a red color pencil and started drawing circles.

The circles began overlapping one another until it turned into a red mess.

“Okay guys. Now it’s time for us to go around and tell everyone what we drew and why.” Chittaphon, or Ten as what everyone called him, said as he turned down the music that was playing in the room. “Remember, you don’t have to say anything.” he smiled before picking up his drawing and starting first.

You liked Ten.

He was pretty chill and funny and would also let patients take crayons and paper to their room just to draw.

Once Ten was done explaining his drawing, he passed it down to one of the patients who began talking.

When it got to Taeyong though, he shook his head.

“I don’t feel saying anything today.” he said and then looked at you.

You picked up your drawing, looking at it, sighing.

“I didn’t really draw anything.” you started. “I just drew a bunch of circles overlapping into one another.” you turned the paper around for everyone to see. “I’ve just been hearing the voices and they keep talking over each other. I guess it could mean that? I don’t know, I’ve just been overthinking a lot about things.”

“What are they?” Ten asked and you looked at him.

“Just… just about the things that led me up to being here…” you answered him and Ten nodded.

“The beautiful thing about art is that it never truly has to be good. Art is a way to express emotions and thoughts that you can’t express in the verbal all too well. To make sense of the thoughts and troubles you have. To cope and understand the trauma you suffer from. If you drawing a bunch of circles made you come to that conclusion, then I say that you did draw something.” Ten said, a gentle smile on his lips.

You nodded.

“I guess you’re right.” you said, setting the paper down on the table. “I’m done.” you laughed awkwardly, looking at the older woman next to you who then began explaining what she drew.

When group ended, Taeyong told you to wait for him and went up to Ten and asked him for some more art supplies and Ten went and got him some crayons and paper.

Once he gave it to him, Taeyong thanked Ten and soon the both of you left the room.

“Let me put these in my room real quick.” Taeyong said and you two walked to his room, just talking about whatever.

When he got to his room, he went in, set his supplies on his dresser and walked out, the both of you heading to the day room.

As you entered, you saw Jisung whose eyes were red and puffy.

He did have talk therapy during yours and Taeyong’s art therapy group so you assumed that was the reason why he looked rather sad.

You went up to him, taking a seat next to him and smiling.

“Everything okay?” you asked him and Jisung looked up at you.

Taeyong took the opposite seat next to Jisung and began rubbing his back.

“Every time one of my alters take over, I don’t feel in control of my body. I’m just watching on autopilot while this stranger ruins everything.” he said. “I just hate that I can’t even remember what actually happens. I can’t recall the things I’ve done or said. I just feel so alone...” he sniffled

“Jisung, what you’re going through, there are others who go through it as well. You’re never really alone.” you said, trying your best to comfort him. “But I know what you mean. I feel the same way too.” Taeyong nodded. “Same.” he said. “When it comes to being sick mentally, it feels like as if no one understands your struggles. That you’re the only person in the world suffering but there are others who do know your struggles. Just because your friends and or family don’t get it, doesn’t mean you’re truly alone.” you told him, a soft smile on your face.

Jisung nodded slowly.

“I guess you’re right.” he said, shoulders slumped.

As you and Taeyong try to comfort Jisung, you saw someone come into the room out of the corner of your eye. Looking up, you saw a patient you’ve never seen before and thought it was a new patient.

His eyes met yours for a bit before looking away.

He looked rather tall in to you and his hair was black. His eyes look tired and sad and as he sat down, you wondered what exactly brought him here.

“It seems like everyday a new guy shows up yet I’m still stuck here.” Taeyong whispered bitterly causing you and Jisung to laugh, who seemed to be feeling a bit better.

As you sat in your bed, you pulled at your hair.

The voices were loud.

Even though you were taking medication, they wouldn’t stop.

You began wondering if you were even given the actual medication you needed or sugar pills.

Knowing Sicheng, that wouldn’t really surprise you if that was the case.

You’ve been in the hospital for 3 weeks now and it seemed as though mentally, you were getting worse.

You looked to your side as the door squeaked open and Sicheng came in.

He walked to the bed and sat down on it, wiping your hair away from your face.

“How was your day?” he asked you and you looked away, pulling at your hair harder.

“No no no, don’t do that. That’s not a good habit.” he said gently pulling your hand away from your hair.

Sicheng was always so gentle with you… but his words always hurt you.

They cut you, hurting and bleeding far more than any self harm scar you’ve ever inflicted.

There was a part of you that still clung to Sicheng.

He was always there for you when no one else was and it made you so confused whenever you thought about that because Sicheng was the reason for your mind worsening in terms of health.

“My day was okay.” you answered timidly, not looking at the man who watched you with soft eyes.

At first, when he started harassing you, you felt terrified, angry that your old best friend was doing this, but ever since coming back home, you began feeling weird. Confused at the fact that Sicheng was still very much the warm and understand boy you grew up with… as long as you didn’t do anything that upset him that was but to Sicheng, you could never upset him.

Irritate him, yes.

But genuine anger towards you, no.

Sicheng chuckled, his hand soon caressing your cheek.

“That’s nice.” he said.

You hated the fact that this man practically had a say on whether or not you were “healthy” enough to leave because deep down you knew he was still sabotaging everything in order to make you stay here.

But a part of you would protest and say that Sicheng is just looking out for you because Sicheng’s voice, that was in your mind, was telling you that all he ever did was look out for you because that’s what the real Sicheng was telling you.

You bit your bottom lip as you felt soft plump lips, gently touch your cheek.

Sicheng would always kiss you everywhere on your face, except your lips.

His kisses was always hesitant and shy, just like him.

He leaned back, his eyes on you, smiling, a soft look on his face as he said, “Goodnight 亲爱的 (Qīn'ài de/Dear). Things will start getting better once you realize that all you need is me.” he lifted his hand up and began rubbing the top of your head. “Now get some rest.”

104 notes · View notes

fbfh · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Care - Leo x reader

Genre: lighthearted/comedic angst, soulmate au, good ending

Pairing: leo x gn reader (future relationship) ft calypso

Au: soulmate au

Wordcount: 800 something

Requested: nah

Warnings: a fair amount of swearing, reader's mental health is... not great, mentions of loss of appetite/living off ibuprofen for medical reasons, reader drastically changes their appearance/personality due do circumstances, brief mentions of therapy, I think that's it lol

Recommended songs: i don't care by fallout boy ft. disloyal order of water buffaloes by fall out boy

A/n:

You never would have expected your life to go so horrendously wrong in such a short period of time, but hey, here you are; worrying the people you love, focusing on shit you don’t even care about, and barely getting through the day. You had spiraled so fast - though no fault of your own - that Chiron made you schedule ‘check in appointments’ (aka therapy sessions) with him at least twice a week. Not to mention the mandatory checkups with Will Solace, who was still baffled by your ��mystery medical condition”, which included one numb finger, heart palpitations and chest pains, and sleep problems. I mean, it could be worse, you could have no sources of serotonin in your life instead of one inconsistent one. You had no idea how it seems to fix your problems, at least temporarily, but it does. Not just in a ‘hey, I feel better emotionally’ way, but it genuinely makes your physical symptoms less bad. And it doesn’t even make sense, because you don’t have a crush on him or anything. Like, you actually don’t. You didn’t even know he existed before all this. But for some reason, the only thing that makes you feel even slightly better is Leo Valdez’s attention.

You tried to be normal at first, you really did. But he was so preoccupied with his girlfriend (who everyone hates, not just you) and his projects that you couldn’t get closer to him. So you settled for the next best thing - fucking with him. Nothing serious or dangerous, just some pranks here, some innuendos there, y’know, enough to make him think of you. The more you did it, the more it seemed to work. It’s funny how a mystery medical issue and a whole lot of boy brain rot could change a person. You were not the same person you’d been a year ago - hell, a month ago. Your appetite had left the chat, you lived off coffee and ibuprofen, and you stopped giving a single fuck about anything other than the 18 year old hispanic boy who could inexplicably solve your problems, and getting through the next hour of the day.

You forgot what having feeling in your pinky finger or a consistent pulse was like a long time ago. You brushed the thought off as you finished getting dressed. You were a hot flaming disaster these days. It was horrible at first, you felt like your old life was slipping through your fingertips. Then after mourning the slightly normal person you used to be who would do their hair and bullet journal and drink tea before bed, you embraced whoever the hell you were becoming. Your impulse control had gone out the window, along with any structure or routine, and your sense of self. You had hacked up a few of your camp shirts and pairs of jeans, and got some black platform boots decorated with slime drips just because you liked them ironically. Your hair had been bleached and dyed half cherry red, half black late last night. You found all this strangely liberating.

Thankfully, Leo also had mandatory ‘check in appointments’ with Chiron after dying and coming back to life. Apparently that can fuck a person up. You got to the living room in the big house where you two would wait for your appointments with Chiron. You flipped your hair to the red side and sat down across from him, sprawling out over an armchair.

“Hey, Sparky,” you drawled, a smirk already on your face. He sighed and focused on the small thing he was building.

“What, no sass from the bad boy supreme?”

“I’m a little busy at the moment,” he replied, his leg bouncing faster. Even he knew it sounded lame, but he never knew what to say around you. He didn’t know why you liked to mess with him so much, but it always disarmed him, and he didn’t know how to respond. You always seemed to know exactly how to get under his skin, and he didn’t know why he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

“Yeah, cause doting on your girlfriend takes up so much of your free time…” you punctuated the sentence with a sip of coffee. He looked up from his project.

“Are you trying to get me to hate you or something?!” he snapped. A smile played at your lips.

“See, I don’t care what you think, babes,” the door opened, and Chiron motioned for you to enter his office, “as long as it’s about me.” you said the last part quietly so only he could hear. You shot him a wink as you entered Chiron’s office. You got a glimpse of him blushing and putting out the small fire on his cheeks as the door closed. You sat down, eyes tracing the red string tied to your pinky finger that only you seemed to see, and you felt your heart beating in sync with Leo’s. Your suspicions were confirmed.

You were soulmates.

Now you just had to find a way to prove it to him.

134 notes · View notes

vespertineflora · 4 years

Note

You said you're open to any combination of 3zun so does that include... nieyao? 🥺 If it does, could I beg for something canon-divergent and sweet? Back when Meng Yao was at Qinghe and/or he makes better life choices. If that's too vague a prompt, I do also love anything involving their ridiculous size difference.

YES NIEYAO IS ABSOLUTELY INCLUDED they deserve to be soft and sweet too, i love them 🥺🥺🥺 and yes THE SIZE DIFFERENCE I CRI. thank you very much, i’m so soft for this

(feel free to drop me a prompt for 3zun/any combo of 3zun or wangxian and i may write a drabble or short fic!!!)

~~~

Meng Yao slowly rolled his head back from one shoulder to the other, his eyes closing for a moment as he stretched his neck and tried to stave off his exhaustion. His eyelids were heavy, had been heavy for ages, but there were supply orders to review, battle plans to triple check, infantry requests to sort through, and if the war wasn’t going to sleep then neither could Meng Yao. They were leaving the Unclean Realm in less than two days to head down to the front lines for yet another battle and everything needed to be ready for them by then...

Even as his feet started to go a little numb from standing in one place for too long, even as his eyes started to burn with the strain of keeping them open, even as his back started to ache, he fought to keep himself awake, reviewing everything page by page, checking boxes, making alterations and additions wherever necessary.

He was so absorbed in the task that he didn’t hear the door opening behind him, and nearly jumped as he heard--

“Meng Yao, what are you doing in here?”

Continue Reading on AO3 or below the cut

His head turned quickly to see Nie Mingjue closing the door partially behind him, giving him the faintest frown, and out of simple reflex, Meng Yao greeted him with a bow.

Nie Mingjue’s frown immediately deepened and he waved off the gesture. Meng Yao heard the dismissal without Nie Mingjue needing to say it; he’d told him months ago, when they’d first stumbled into being something more than sect leader and his second in command, that such things weren’t necessary when it was just the two of them--but Meng Yao was so used to doing it for an audience that he’d found it a hard habit to break when the were alone.

He let his arms fall, and his gaze motioned to the papers stacked in neat piles across the table as he offered in explanation, “I‘m trying to sort through all this before we leave, Zongzhu.”

Nie Mingjue had also told Meng Yao that there was no need to address him so formally, but that was something Meng Yao hadn’t been able to bring himself to do.

“Hm,” Nie Mingjue replied lightly, stepping toward the table, but moving into the space directly behind Meng Yao.

Though Meng Yao nearly expected it by now, his breath still caught faintly as he felt Nie Mingjue’s chest pressing softly against his back, as Nie Mingjue’s larger hands settled naturally on his slender waist, as his chin rested easily atop Meng Yao’s head--a move that always flustered Meng Yao--so that he could peer over him at the stacks of documents, judging their contents...

“You could do this tomorrow,” Nie Mingjue commented softly, the disapproval obvious in his voice, “And I thought Cheng Guo was supposed to be handling these requests from the front line.”

This time it was Meng Yao’s turn to frown, though having Nie Mingjue’s warmth pressed up against him was making it extremely difficult to resist his exhaustion, and he found his eyes slipping shut. “He was,” Meng Yao admitted. “I decided he was taking too long.”

Nie Mingjue huffed out a soft, almost amused breath; his arms moved to wrap around Meng Yao’s waist, and Meng Yao’s body reacted almost involuntarily. He exhaled slowly, letting himself lean back against Nie Mingjue’s firm chest, feeling... safe and supported by the arms embracing him and nearly ready to collapse. The exhaustion he’d been fighting back for hours was suddenly hitting him quite hard.

“You’re working too hard,” Nie Mingjue scolded gently, holding Meng Yao a bit closer as he felt his weight sinking into him.

“You like that I work too hard,” Meng Yao countered with a faint smile as his hands moved to cover Nie Mingjue’s and hold them in place against him.

“I do,” Nie Mingjue agreed easily, as it would be futile to deny that Meng Yao’s industrious nature was a quality he valued very highly in him, “but not when it keeps you from coming to bed.”

Meng Yao felt a soft heat on his cheeks as Nie Mingjue’s face nuzzled down against his hair. Even now, months later, Meng Yao still wasn’t fully used to the affection Nie Mingjue showed him, the nuzzling, the embraces, the soft kisses, every time Nie Mingjue tucked Meng Yao’s head ever so comfortably beneath his... Being raised the way he was, Meng Yao would hardly do more than blink at even the most depraved sex acts, but the moment Nie Mingjue held him close and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, Meng Yao’s heart started to race, fluttering about his chest in a way that was almost uncomfortable and was definitely embarrassing.

When this had all started in a fever pitch of an unexpected and intoxicated makeout session, Meng Yao hadn’t realized how soft Nie Mingjue would be with him. He had anticipated correctly that Nie Mingjue wasn’t one for long winded platitudes or mushy sentiments, of course, but physically... when they were alone together, Nie Mingjue was far more gentle and tactile with him than Meng Yao could have ever imagined, Nie Mingjue’s hands and lips lingering on him sweetly every chance they had--and though the two of them had had their fair share of heated and rowdy moments in the bedroom, it was Nie Mingjue’s dedication to tenderness that had caught Meng Yao by surprise.

“You were already gone by the time I woke up this morning...” Which was saying something, because it wasn’t as if Nie Mingjue was someone who slept in late--Meng Yao had just woken up very early. “And I spent the last hour waiting for you to join me. You’ve been working later and later every night.”

Meng Yao exhaled, deflating a little and feeling Nie Mingjue’s arms hold him a little bit closer. He tried to open his eyes again, as he’d really been hoping to finish at least one last pile of papers... but now that he’d closed them, his eyes were stubbornly refusing to open again. “We’re leaving soon,” he said with faint exasperation. “I want to make sure everything is in order before we go.”

Nie Mingjue’s head was dipping down now so that he could press his lips lightly to Meng Yao’s temple. “Meng Yao, you’re very skilled,” Nie Mingjue said, offering up the praise plainly before pressing onward, “but the Nie Sect has survived without you for hundreds of years. I’m certain the Unclean Realm will manage to hold itself together for a few weeks in our absence.”

If Meng Yao had had the energy for it, he would have laughed. Nie Mingjue was right, of course, this was just... Meng Yao’s fear of inferiority rearing its head, his worry that if he didn’t work harder and harder, if he didn’t constantly prove his worth, if he didn’t keep topping his own efforts that... this would all fall apart. He’d worked so hard to get where he was, and he’d worked even harder to prove to himself and others that he deserved the position he’d been given. To slack in those efforts even for a moment felt like a slippery slope towards failure, even if his definition of not slacking involved what others would consider a neglect for a regular sleeping schedule.

He just... finally felt like he found something good here. It wasn’t what he had hoped for, it wasn’t the acceptance he craved so desperately from his father, but... His position in the Nie Sect had granted him a level of respect and power he never imagined he would have, and his relationship with Nie Mingjue...

Well, to put it simply, Meng Yao’s expectations for romantic love in the course of his life had been... non-existent. He’d grown up barely knowing what a romance should look like beyond the depiction of it in books his mother had gotten her hands on in order for him to practice his reading, beyond observing couples in the marketplace when he was sent to run errands. The brothel was pretty much the last place to find examples of a healthy romantic relationship, so... Meng Yao had grown up knowing more about purchased companionship and sex than he ever had about love, and therefore hadn’t spent much time imagining what that might look like for himself.

He’d been with Nie Mingjue only a handful of months, and yet... already, Nie Mingjue had shown him more loyalty and affection than Meng Yao could have asked to receive in his whole life. The thought of losing that because he’d failed in his duties, the idea of all of this shattering like it was no more than some frail illusion, and Nie Mingjue finally seeing him as the son of a whore that everyone else immediately took him for...

It was more than his heart could bear.

“You’re right, Zongzhu,” he conceded. Even if he didn’t already agree Nie Mingjue’s point, he would have been too tired to argue. With some effort, he forced his eyes open, taking a few seconds to make the table come into focus as he said with a sigh, “Let me finish reviewing this last pile and then I’ll join you.”

He was just about to free himself (somewhat reluctantly) from Nie Mingjue’s embrace, when... he realized that Nie Mingjue wasn’t letting go of him.

“No,” Nie Mingjue denied him bluntly.

And before Meng Yao had even the faintest chance to react, in the blink of an eye, Nie Mingjue hoisted Meng Yao into his arms, picking him up as effortlessly as if Meng Yao was made of down and not flesh and muscle. Meng Yao immediately felt his cheeks burning, his heart hammering as he gasped to fill his lungs with air as the maneuver had quite literally left him breathless. Naturally, his arms wrapped around Nie Mingjue’s neck, though it wasn’t as if he wasn’t perfectly and easily supported by Nie Mingjue’s incredible strength.

“As your sect leader, I’m ordering you to get some sleep,” Nie Mingjue said, his tone taking a step closer to authoritative--and though it obviously wasn’t a real order, Meng Yao decided to give in to it anyway. It wasn’t like he could do much about it in his current position.

“Yes, Zongzhu,” he said with a defeated smile. Nie Mingjue had won this round.

Exhausted, Meng Yao let his head rest against Nie Mingjue’s chest as Nie Mingjue nudged the door open with his foot and carried him down the hallways to their room. Meng Yao was... thankful for the late hour, allowing them to encounter no one on their journey; Meng Yao felt flustered enough to be carried around like this, much less be seen in such a position.

Inside their room, Nie Mingjue carefully set him on his feet and then helped the both of them strip off the outer layers of their robes, before tugging Meng Yao into bed. Almost immediately, Meng Yao found himself tucked neatly to Nie Mingjue’s chest, his face pressed comfortably into the crook of his neck; Nie Mingjue’s arms circled around him completely, easily, the heat coming off of his skin an instant comfort in the chilly room. Meng Yao allowed himself to press close to Nie Mingjue’s form, already somehow comfortable sleeping together like this as he half-draped his body over him and took a slow breath against Nie Mingjue’s skin.

His eyes closed, and he swallowed the thoughts that still questioned how this could be real, what he’d done to find himself in such a position... but it didn’t take long for the fiercely battled exhaustion to take over, letting him fall asleep peacefully against Nie Mingjue’s chest.

#nieyao #mdzs #the untamed #mdzs fanfic #mo dao zu shi #answered a thing #wrote a thing #msbeeinmybonnet

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bakugouscentedcaramel · 5 years

Text

Sleepy Bois Hour

Since it's 3am and I'm still in a writing mood, why not take advantage of it? Have some sleepy cuddly Bois to lull you to a blissful sleep, All for the low low price of 420 payments of 69 uwu's

@1a-imagines have these Bois to lull your sick ass to sleep

Warnings: prepare your hearts y'all, this one's the fluffiest shit I ever wrote, feast my darlins

Bakugou

He was laying on his back, his arm wrapped around your shoulders with his hand resting on your upper arm. Your head was on his chest and you wrapped yourself around him. His chests rhythm rocking you into a blissful daze.

You had woken up to him muttering in his sleep about something, it was all just incoherent ramblings. You studied his features in this rare opportunity. His lax eyes looked so peaceful, the way they darted around in his sleep only made you smirk knowing he had no idea how love sick you looked. His mouth moving and quivering slightly in his dream only made you more dreamy-eyed. His jaw complimenting his toned neck. He was just so, handsome.

"-y/n.."

You snapped out of your daze and looked back at his eyes, expecting tired filled rubies staring back, only to find him still soundly asleep. You smile knowing this newfound secret.

He suddenly wrapped both of his arms around you and pulled you closer to him before, "-love you.. y/n.."

You heart was swelling with love, normally he's more brash like-

"..love you.. dumbass.."

He was going to be the death of you

Midoriya

Your study session with Izuku turned into a Deku watch. He was hunched over the desk, his arms crossed providing a pillow of sorts for his head. His eyes closed and calm, his eyebrows slightly raised from the bliss of sleep, his mouth slightly open and.. drool? He must've been really tired then.

You go to wipe off the little bit of drool that started to run down his chin before he murmured your name and sank deeper into his arms. You smiled at him and gently played with his hair, twirling a lock around your finger.

You really were so lucky to have him. He was such a sweetheart and honestly one of the best things to have ever happened to you. He'd do anything for you, even if that meant putting himself on the line. You were so "lucky to have y/n.."

What

You snapped out of your daze just in time to hear "I'm.. grateful for.. Y/n.." he shifted in his sleep and had a gentle smile on his face.

You tried not to wake the wild Izuku with your heart fluttering.

Todoroki

You two were just watching TV when you glanced to see your lover fast asleep. He was parked out on the couch with his head in his chest and arms crossed. You were confused on how that was comfortable but before you could think of waking him up to go to bed something caught your eye.

It could've been the light or just this angle but he looked so, happy. He wasn't smiling or anything but you could see it in his face. Contentment. You brushed some of his hair out of his eyes and he groaned softly. You couldn't help but smile at his reaction and you gently stroked his cheek with the back of your hand. You felt his face subtly press back into you. You were trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach from assaulting your heart when-

"-mean everything to me... Y/n..." He softly groaned out as he nuzzled into your hand further.

Once you overcame the sneak attack of love you decided to gently wake him up so you both could go to bed together.

"Shouto, hon"

"nggnnm?"

"come on, let's go to bed darling"

"ngmmsn"

He tried getting up half awake but nearly stumbled back into the couch, which prompted a giggle from you.

Kirishima

Well, this was a predicament.

You tried to wake up your boyfriend but unfortunately he was a heavy sleeper. And to make matters worse he was heavy. Really heavy.

Eijiro came home from a particularly hardcore workout only to greet you and promptly fall asleep on top of you. You've been stuck for about 34 minutes now. He was exhausted and even if he could get off of you he would probably have to peel you off of him due to the amount of sweat on him. After you gave up struggling and just accepted your fate, you decided to just play on your phone until he woke up.

58 minutes since this boulder fell on top of you, now you were considering pulling a 127 hours and just gnaw off your body parts to escape until he started to stir.

"mmng y/n..." A smile graced his lips and you couldn't help but get warm and fuzzy at the sight. You instinctively started running your hand through his hair to which he nuzzled into you more.

All of a sudden you didn't mind being trapped now, even if you were mildly disgusted by his BO.

Iida

You two decided to take a nap together after a particularly stressful day. He was laying down and you were laying on top of him, his arms wrapped around the small of your back. You were sound asleep until you were woken up but his arms tightening slightly and him whispering in his sleep.

You groggily opened your eyes and blinked slowly as you were returning back to earth.

"y/n... Marry me..."

Now wide eyed you whip your head to him, you would've thought that he would've proposed formally, what is going on? You freeze only to see him still sound asleep. You laugh softly now knowing what he was dreaming about. You couldn't help but feel lovey dovey after hearing that. You rubbed his cheek adoringly. His face relaxing and his head seeking the warmth from your hand. You nuzzled yourself deeper into his chest before planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Of course Tenya, my love"

Shinsou

He was up late just reading on his phone. You were sound asleep next to him with your back to him. He told you about an hour ago "just one more chapter". You were going to hold him up to that until you fell asleep yourself.

Once he realized how carried away he got he put his phone on the charger and on the nightstand as quietly as he could. He didn't mean to stay up so late, especially if you were waiting for him. He turned his head to see your sleeping form.

The blanket hugged your form, he could see the gently rising of your breathing. You curled slightly into a ball and your hair was splayed out on the sheets. It was really unfair how beautiful you looked. He smirked to himself before he brushed some hair away from your face and pulled the blanket up more for you. He shifted slowly so he could lay behind you, moving your hair as needed so he wouldn't accidentally lay on it. He pressed his form into yours gently, his head laying right behind yours. He sighed contently once he got a whiff of your shampoo.

"It's really not fair Y/n.." he whispered mainly to himself. "it's not fair how gorgeous you are.. I've truly been blessed" he planted a loving kiss on the back of your head, silently praying this didn't wake you up.

You stirred in your sleep and pressed back into his warmth giving him a happy huff.

He really was blessed with an angel.

Dabi

You were laying in bed just waiting for your boyfriend to come home. You texted him asking how much longer but got no reply. You groaned at your phone for not giving you an answer. You laid on your back with your arms behind your head, wondering where he was.

The front door rattling made your ear twitch as you focused in on the sound. Familiar footsteps laced with exhaustion flooded the hall to your room. The bedroom door opened revealing your mess of a lover, he looked like he got hit by a freight train.

"About time you're home babe, how was the league?" You sat up on your elbows, studying his sluggish movements as he made his way to the foot of the bed.

He just growled at you and slipped off his shirt with a forced effort. He fiddled with his belt and you couldn't help but giggle at how tired he really was.

He was finally ready for bed and you thought he would've collapsed a few times. Once his hands touched the matress he knew his body would give out at any given moment. He crawled into your lap, plopping his head on your stomach and snaking his arms around your back.

He groaned and repositioned his head so he was more comfortable.

"... Missed you... Y/n.." he whispered breathlessly before succumbing to sleep.

Shigaraki

Tomura wouldn't sleep with you, no matter how much you begged and pleaded. He would always shoot you a firm "No".

It's not that he didn't want to, it's just because he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ended up hurting the one thing he cared about in this world. He's has a whole series of nightmares where he touched you and all he could feel was dust. He's not going to take any selfish chances with your life like that.

But when he saw you sleeping on the couch he couldn't help himself.

Your peaceful expression numbed his mind. Your eyes darting in your deep sleep forced a smile to carve itself onto his lips. You shifted and moaned softly as you repositioned your breathtaking body.

His eyes softened in your beauty and he couldn't help but gently stroke your cheek with his index finger. Your warmth sending shockwaves through his spine. You truly were the best upgrade he could've hoped for.

"My trophy..." The grumbled before snatching the blanket from the floor and draped it over you.

You snuggled into the fabric and he could've sworn that simple action could've killed him on the spot. You were like a weapon specially crafted for him and he loved it. He turned on his game and made a silent vow to be your guardian for as long as you existed.

You woke up to Tomura asleep with his back to the couch and controller in hand. The game pleading for someone to reconnect the controller. You couldn't help but return his favor and covered him with the same blanket.

Tokoyami

Tokoyami was sound asleep. But you were wide awake. And not alone.

You and Dark Shadow were talking for a couple hours hoping it would tire you out, but to no avail. Rock paper scissors, tic tac toe, I spy, 20 questions, nothing tired you out.

Your dark lover was shifting in his sleep constantly as if subconsciously begging you to come rest with him, but you didn't feel tired.

"You know, he loves you more than anything."

Your eyes widen at the sudden information "What do you mean by that"

"He obviously loves you but I don't think you know to what extent~" Dark Shadow chimed playfully and swooped to the bottom of the bed.

You smile a bit knowing you were about to get some juicy gossip from your inside man. You look at Dark Shadow expectantly awaiting his follow up.

"His contact name in his phone is 'My Eternal Queen'"

"No way" you tried containing the giggle trying not to wake up the sleeping bird.

"He secretly hopes you hold his hand constantly. He steals glances at you regularly. His heart flutters every time you laugh. Sometimes when you laugh he has to hide his smile." Dark Shadow kept rambling off thing Tokoyami would've dreaded you to know about how weak you really made him.

The entire time Dark Shadow rambled you were just eyeing your loving boyfriend with a lovestruck expression. You tenderly stroked his arm and he shifted toward your welcoming heat.

Click

You whip your head to see Dark Shadow holding his phone. He took a picture of your vulnerable state.

"Delete it now you glorified Sock Puppet" you growl with a burning blush on your cheeks as you try to snatch the phone from his misty form.

Now you're playing keep away with a shadow at 3 am.

Kaminari

You don't know how he managed it but there he was. Sleeping on the back of the couch like a cat. He took up all of the back rest with his sleeping form. Even drooling on it, which was probably going to stain later.

"Denki? Deeeeeenkiii"

No response

"Road work ahead?" You attempt to bait him

No response again

He was out cold. There was no way of waking him up so you accepted your fate and became an unintentional guardian for him, stopping anything that might wake him up. Sitting down on the couch you just scrolled through your phone peacefully, nagging anyone who was being too loud. Everything was so relaxing it almost put you to sleep yourself.

Some time had passed and your eyes were getting heavy and you were at the edge of dreaming. You decided it would be best to take a nap with him and you laid down on the couch cushions, letting sleep take you away.

"y/n..."

You groan at the intrusion that broke you from the cusp of sleep and shifted to find the source of the interruption.

"y/n's mine... You ass..."

"..Denki?" Your eyes shift to your boyfriend who was still very much asleep.

His brows were knitted and his mouth was in a slight frown. Was he having a nightmare? You rub his arm gently to give some comfort to him. His brow relaxed and you could feel him get goosebumps from the touch. That seemed to do the trick.

"..y/N.." he rolled off of the couch back and on top of you nearly knocking the wind out of you.

Looks like you're not getting up anytime soon.

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #kirishima x reader #mha imagines #shinsou x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #iida x reader #mha headcanons #kaminari x reader #dabi x reader #tokoyami x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader

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dear-selena · 5 years

Text

Sketchbook (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader): Chapter 3

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (Female)

Summary: (Y/N) never understood science based subjects, despite putting all her efforts into studying them. Kids at school bullied her, her father, Tony Stark, was disappointed in her, and the Avengers looked the other way. Peter Parker, her best friend and secret crush for almost two years, was always there supporting her when she needed someone. However, since he became an Avenger and her dad’s ‘favorite kid’, (Y/N) doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be around.

You find yourself struggling to exist with everything working against you, and instead of asking others for help, you turn to your sketchbook.

Warnings: Depression, suicidal ideations, angst central.

A/N: Hello again! School is still crazy, but I’m so happy that I found the time to update this story! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient with me. I can assure you that I have not forgotten about this story. I’ve been making mood boards because, well, I got bored one night and thought they’d be better than using random gifs of Peter that don’t relate to the story.

Like I said before, my updates will be a bit sporadic, but I’m doing my best to write and update. Please stay patient with me. I can’t wait to share more of this story!

Chapter 3: Unseen Potential

Words: 1935

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Showers always feel nice, especially when you feel like you want to live.

After stepping out of the shower and into your room, you put on your favorite (F/C) tank top and gym shorts. Taking out a long comfy cardigan, you wrap it around your body and smile at the warmth.

After drying your wet hair, you step out of your room and make your way into the kitchen. Around this time, Vision always cooks something, and when he cooks, you eat well. Besides you were starving after all the energy you used training earlier, and you felt you deserved a good meal.

However, your good mood didn’t last long.

On your way to the kitchen, you spot your father and Natasha at the end of the hallway having an intense conversation. At first, you wanted to join the conversation, knowing that Natasha was talking about your successful training session. However, your father’s voice was rather harsh, making your stomach drop.

Rounding the corner, you hide from their sight and listen in. “No! I will not allow her to do that.” You hear your father sternly say.

“But Tony,” Natasha butts in. “(Y/N)’s been steadily improving, and today I think she made a breakthrough. I don’t want her breaking that momentum now. Pretty soon she’ll be mission ready-.”

“(Y/N) is not going to be mission ready for a long time.” Your father practically shouts, making your heart drop to your feet. “I don’t want someone who can’t pass a simple science class out there risking their life. She’s not to train anymore.”

“But Tony-.”

“Natasha,” your father angrily sighs. “I don’t understand why my own daughter can’t pass her classes, but I know all these distractions are hindering her. So until she actually starts to study like she claims she does, she’s not going to train anymore.”

Hearing your father and Natasha’s footsteps walking out of the hall, you quickly make your way back into your room. Slamming the door shut, you sob, sliding down the door until you’re sitting. You hoped your father would be proud of you. Hell, you hoped your father would have wanted to see you in action. But no matter what you did, it was never enough. No matter what good came in your life, it was always taken away. No matter how much you wanted your father’s love, he would never give it to you.

What was the point in existing?

—————-

Slamming your calculator on your desk, you push yourself away from your homework.

After crying your eyes out, you decide to try and get some homework done. After all, that’s what your father wants. You were currently trying to tackle your algebra homework, but per usual, you kept getting the wrong answer, no matter what you did and how many math help sites you used on your laptop.

The negative thoughts start to come to you head, wrapping your conscience in a blanket of fear. You couldn’t help but imagine what the compound would be like if you didn’t exist. Natasha wouldn’t have to waste her time training you with little results, Bucky could find someone his age to pick on, and your father could spend all his energy being proud of the son he wish was you.

Thoughts of Peter suddenly came into your mind, but instead of being pleasant like they usually were, they were rather scary. You saw Peter staring at you in disgust, practically mocking you for your pathetic mind. Peter stopped hanging out with you and started befriending prettier, smarter girls at Midtown, leaving you friendless. You even saw him taking over your own bedroom, kicking you out of the compound and acting as if you never existed to begin with.

Everything hurt. Your head, your heart, and your soul.

Trying to snap out of it, you sit on the floor leaning against your bed, go into your backpack and find your sketchbook, the air returning to your lungs as you held the moleskin. Looking through your past notes, you find a poem you wrote when you felt a similar way weeks ago.

Oh my lord, can you hear me?

Chanting a stupid pathetic plea?

Oh my lord, please I cry,

Take me away from this worthless life.

Reading these words fills you with an inspirational numbness, if that makes any sense. Turning to a blank page in your sketchbook, you find your pencils, pens, and colored charcoal, and begin to draw.

After what felt like an hour, you hear a knock at your door. “Come in,” You say, not looking up from your work.

When the door opens, you finally stop what you’re doing, and look up to see Peter, smile on his face and a bowl in his hands. “Hey (Y/N),” you couldn’t help but send him a small smile. “I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you some of Vision’s food.”

Peter sits down next to you and hands you a bowl full of pasta. There were meatballs and veggies cooked into the sauce, making your mouth water. You didn’t realize how starving you were.

Glancing at your hands, you put the bowl on the floor. “Thanks Peter, I’m going to go wash my hands,” you say showing them off and revealing the massive color stains from the charcoal. Peter simply chuckles and nods his head.

Getting up, you make your way to your bathroom and quickly scrub all the colors off your hands. When you return to your room, you see Peter looking through your sketchbook, a pleasant look on his face. You smile to yourself, liking the little attention he gave you. Normally, you were super protective of your book and its contents. Not even your father knew you owned it, as you bought it and all your art supplies on your own accord. But you felt comfortable sharing it with Peter, even though there were some questionable things in it (he never found the dark poems you wrote in it).

Sitting back down next to him, you grab the bowl and immediately shovel the pasta in your mouth, practically moaning at the sensation. While you eat, you watch Peter look through your drawings.

“Wow… (Y/N) these are incredible.” Peter says, his voice full of amazement. He was currently looking at some colored sketches you just did of clothes you designed for various climates, inspired by the weapon drafts you saw earlier in your father’s lab. “Your father and I were working on stuff like this today.”

You nod, swallowing your food. “Yeah, I might have accidentally saw the drafts when I was in the lab today. I thought it would be cool to make matching outfits, I don’t know.”

Peter smiles at you and looks back at your notes. “You have some really cool ideas written down to the clothes that we haven’t thought about yet,” he says, making you look back at your sloppy handwriting. “Gloves that adjust to the temperature of what you touch, clothing with a built in air conditioner.”

You laugh at the silly ideas you had. “Those are stupid. I just wrote what I thought sounded neat.”

“But (Y/N), they are neat!” Peter says, making you look at him confused. “And not only that, your drawings are absolutely amazing. I wish you would show your father these.”

You start shaking your head vigorously. “That’s the last thing I want. If my dad finds out I’m doing things other than studying my butt off, he’ll make my life more of a living hell.”

It’s Peter’s turn to be confused. “But they’re so good. I bet your father will love to take a look at these and maybe then you can spend time in the lab with us working on your designs-.”

“I know that’s never going to happen,” You interject, stopping Peter in his little ramble. “He’s taking my training privileges away. Again. Even after I beat Captain America.

Peter did a double take. “You best Captain America?!”

You nod, softly smiling at the victory. “Yup, but that’s not enough to please my father.” Shaking your head, you look at Peter teary eyed. Nothing I do pleases him. Why waste more of his time?”

Peters face goes from confusion to concern, a transition it always made when you start opening up your negative thoughts. “You’re not a waste of time (Y/N).” Peter reassures, putting an arm around your shoulders. You turn your face away from him, trying so hard to hide the blush. “Your father loves you, you know that right?”

Bringing your knees close to you, you hold yourself closely, sighing in frustration. “No, he doesn’t. He never has.”

Once again, negative thoughts start to form in your head, reminding you of how unfair everything feels in your life. Your father’s control over what you do absolutely destroys you, and you cannot do the one thing he asks of you to gain any of that control.

Peter was definitely lying, trying to give you some sense of hope that you know is not there. You love him, but with all the time he spent with your father and the respect he continues to gain from the other Avengers, you can conclude that he doesn’t love you back, at least in the way that you wish he did. After all, you weren’t smart, and you couldn’t even train and fight beside him. Peter deserves someone special, someone who is worth something more than you ever thought you’ll be.

Standing up and removing yourself from his grasp, much to your dismay, you clear your throat. “Hey, it’s getting late, I think I should just go to bed right now.” You say looking everywhere but his face.

Peter stands up in front of you, cupping your chin and making your eyes meet his. His eyes were glistening, full of sadness and worry. What does he have to be worried about? “You do know you can talk to me (Y/N), right? I’m here for you.”

It took all your strength to stay level-headed, as you were practically getting lost in his eyes. In moments like these, you wished you could confess your dark thoughts to him, tell him about the poems you wrote in your sketchbook, and how you wish everyday that you were no longer around. But you knew better than to admit these things to him.

They’d definitely scare him away.

“I know, thank you Peter,” You simply say, looking back down again.

Peter was not satisfied with your answer, but knew that if he tried to force anything out of you, he’d get nowhere. Sighing sadly, Peter presses his lips to your forehead, causing you to look at him in confusion. He’s never done something like that before, but if you were being honest, it felt nice.

After a quick goodbye, Peter left your bedroom, leaving you alone once again. In order to stop yourself from hopelessly day dreaming, you left your room to put the discarded pasta bowl back into the kitchen. Coming back into your room you quickly change into pajamas and crawl into bed, sketchbook in hand. Opening up to a clean page, you start drawing a light sketch of the one and only Spiderman doing one of his iconic heroic poses. No matter how much you knew he would never love you or how much you cared for him, you still saw him as a muse, someone to bring positivity in your dull, negative life.

You wanted to embrace as much of him before he was gone.

----------

-Sketchbook Tag List-

@randomfanders-blog // @freestarlight // @depressing-as-shit // @sweetmilki // @supernerdycookietrashblr // @supermassiveblackhope // @starksthunder // @multi-fandom-headcanons // @adri1ii // @futureauthor03 // @maddie-laufeyson // @thejourneyneverendsx // @noakantor14

-Peter Parker Tag List-

@sweetcoffeeblandtea // @house-arya // @jovialpeanut // @bookstoreblossom // @jackiehollanderr

-Permanent Tag List-

@mindset-jupiter // @romance-geek // @imcharishope // @fakindob // @cutiekoa // @wowursofunny // @cals-cigarette

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #tom holland #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman ffh #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #marvel #mcu #dear-selena fanfiction #depression #suicidal ideation #angst

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kat-hawke · 4 years

Text

Preparations - II

(Following [Preparations], and subsequent sub posts.)

One after another, spaced evenly apart, Kat swung the dagger in wide sweeping arcs. She alternated from Light to Shadow to light again as the energy pulsated from the blade and cleaved the target dummies in two. A handful of the trees behind her home were scared, collateral from the training over the last week of experimenting with various sources of power and combinations, searching for the ideal equilibrium.

Letting the dagger rest at her side Kat pushed the sweaty raven hairs back out of her face, panting as the three-hour-long session came to pause. She plucked the waterskin from the windowsill and inhaled the contents, wiping away the beads of water from her lips with the back of her just as she heard the muttered 'fuck' from within the dagger.

"Three too much?" Kat asked, though hardly concerned. "Are you actually touching the energies, or do they flow through you? I'm not entirely sure how things work for you in there."

"Everything in here is me. Nothing just flows through. It looks like a place, but it's all me. Three is manageable. The Light just hurts."

"Well, I have to alternate," Kat stated, inspecting the damage to the dummies from afar. "I remember the pain. You get used to it."

With a soft thump, the empty water skin dropped to the wooden bench where a few other supplies were sitting. Nimble fingertips found the Azerite crystal next, pulling the stone into the palm as she siphoned off the raw energy to recuperate her strength. The numbing sensation that washed over her mind made her nearly miss Alyssa's next statement.

"It's not the alternation. It's my nature. It repels the Light. I'll get used to it. Keep going."

"No, that's enough of that for now. We found a flow and decent control point." Kat said as she turned to face the clearing, her left-hand coalescing with Void as she reaches out to tear a small hole in the plane of existence.

Pain search from the tips of her fingers to the left shoulder, her body was fighting against the excessive use of the dark magic. Kat grit her teeth and clenched her jaw as the air split open with a tiny portal, a tear into the void. Setting her gaze on the darkness beyond, she uttered a select verse beneath her breath.

"Are you going to tell me why we're doing this training yet?" Alyssa asked again. She did every day but never got an answer.

"This is the endgame." Kat's cryptic monotone offered little to go on as she stared into the vast nothingness as the repulsive voidling lurched itself free from the portal. Her gaze was cast down to the dagger in her hand as the creature gurgled and crawled about. "What did it feel like when I stabbed the Faceless and K'thir?"

"Chaotic. I lost myself for a moment both times...it felt like a moment, could have been longer. N'zoth spoke to me, and I saw the city." Alyssa's answer came with a cautious form of curiosity.

"Mmm, well, N'zoth is dead now, so that shouldn't be a problem." With a shrug, the blade spun around in her hand, gripping the handle and plunging the dagger into the voidling. The engravings upon the blade shift from teal to purple in the blink of an eye, and the shambling creature shriek out in what one could assume to be pain as its body turned to dust.

Running a fingertip across the glowing floral engravings Kat could feel the raw energy of the voidling's life force resonating from the blade, as minor as it was.

"How do you feel?" She probed, subtly searching for signs of danger. Unsure what to expect when directly feeding the woman's soul with the essence of the Void.

After a short and suspenseful pause, Alyssa gurgled her response."Bwixki... amala zal qulllll."

Kat's eye widened, threatening to nearly fall out of her skull as her gut twisted, and her mind began to panic. "I think not," she stated forcefully, tightening her grip on the blades handle to siphon off the power.

"I'm just fucking with you," Alyssa revealed with a mirthful tone. "It's painful but manageable."

Kat's widened eyes immediately narrowed into a severe squint as she stared at the blade's engravings as if the woman within could physically see the amount of annoyance that radiated off her. With her lips pursed to hide the faint snarl of the upper lip, she looked up to the tear in the Void again, reaching out with another uttered phrase. The second creature that was called forth leaped from the portal, a void spawn this time. One she had no control over as it charged at Kat with its bodyless form.

"Well, since you're having so much fun." She spoke in spite as the dagger was driven into the spawns would-be heart, shouting away the pain with her overhead attack.

Just as before, the process repeated, and the void spawn cried out as it's form drained of color until it vanished from sight. The dagger itself was glowing brightly from the engravings and pummel. The deep purple hue flicked off the blade in whisps. As Kat inspected the weapon, she snapped out of her blind rage, knitting brows together in a brief moment of concern.

"Still good in there?"

"Yes," Alyssa answered in a strained voice, "Won't be able to hold this for very long..."

Wanting to avoid an explosion, Kat did not hesitate to siphon off the energy from the dagger. The sheer amount set her soul on fire, and the bracers constricted against her wrists, and they struggled to contain the power. For a moment, her head was foggy, but she regained footing and forced the energy back over the blade with a broad horizontal sweep—the resulting wave of destructing cleaving down several trees and shearing the boulder in the back.

"That's enough for today." Kat conceded, doubling over to plant her palms on the knees, gasping for breath and reeling from the rapid absorption and discharge. Her mind jumped from one thought to the next, concerned that if this resulted from a simple voidling and minor void spawn, then cutting a lesser void lord would be catastrophic.

"You said that ten minutes ago and then stuck me into a void creature." Alyssa sounded doubtful.

"Would you prefer I stick you in the wall? Again?" There was no sense of jest in Kat's tone this time as she fell back onto the bench.

"Well, that doesn't feel like anything. It's just boring," Alyssa said, pausing for a moment before reaching out again. "I had a question, though."

Kat's eyes rolled. "You often do."

"I keep your mind active," Alyssa replies sardonically. "It's about our link, less question more observation. Something about it is different than it was with Riley."

"How so?" Kat entertained the query for now as she leaned back against the cabin wall. Odell slunk forward from the treeline to check on her condition. The huff of disapproval from the beast had been expected.

"It became clear that I could only see Riley's soul when she had the dagger in hand. I can see yours with almost any kind of proximity."

Kat shook her head a bit as she reached out to run her fingers through the massive fox's fur. Even though Alyssa could not see it, she made an expression that showed she was not at all surprised. "And this surprises you?"

"Yes. You sound like you expected this?"

"Well, I don't think Riley is as magically inclined as you and I, if at all for that matter." Unsure of how accurate her statement was, Kat, glanced up at the broken trees, shelving the thought for another time.

"Did you not expect this? I thought you were supposed to be educated in soul related magics? Our emotional entanglement strengthens the link, as you call it. That's one theory. The other, and most probable, is that it is because I made you, in a sense." Kat pauses for only a second before rushing into an explanation to avoid lingering on that subject.

"You can't just stick a soul into an inanimate object on a whim, not without preparations and conditioning the vessel first. I conducted a small ritual while binding your soul to the blade. There was, of course, a cost. There always is. Physically many see it as just blood, but it's more than that on a deeper level; it's the life force. Mogu texts referred to it as anima, which they used to power golems. The phrase 'I put blood, sweat, and tears' into this dagger is much more literal in this sense. In a way, there is part of me in you, in there. So I would expect the connection to be healthier." "In my hand, the sheath on my thigh, or even just a few inches away on the desk. I can feel and hear you. More than a few inches, and there is nothing."

Fingers scrunched up a few times in Odell's fur before Kat pushed to her feet, allowing a moment of silence for Alyssa to process all the information given as she collected the few things from the bench to head inside.

"I've gotten very good at blocking out the sounds of souls in soul stones, or I'd have gone mad. Maybe I tried to erase in my mind the fact that part of me was in each of them too. It's a sound theory, though. It would make a lot of sense."

"Short of blaming lack of magical inclination, that is." Kat pointed out as she promptly poured herself a glass of whiskey from the home bar.

"I didn't read magic in her soul."

"Well, case and point, then." The drink was knocked back with a single, fluid motion. "I'm sure she loved you poking around her soul."

"I told her what I saw. I didn't poke into it...much..." Alyssa stated dismissively.

Raven brows pushed together again as a second drink was poured. Kat wasn't surprised, but still a bit annoyed and sought a further explanation. "Much?"

"Once I knew more about who she was, I stopped. I had no idea where I was or who she was when she picked up the dagger. I started probing because I needed to start figuring out how to take...her...o..." Alyssa trails off, clamming up. "Doesn't matter, I stopped looking."

"What?" Raw frustration overtook Kat's tone as she slammed the bottle of whiskey back onto the shelf.

"It doesn't matter now." Alyssa eluded.

Without realizing it, Kat's knuckles had gone white from the fist she was clenching in anger. "How to, what, exactly?" Though she knew where Alyssa was going with the thought, she continued to push for an admittance.

"I was considering any possible option to save you, regardless of who got hands on the dagger." Alyssa continued to evade. "That's all. I didn't have to do anything dangerous since Riley found me."

With flared nostrils, Kat let out an agitated huff as she spat, "Right."

"I was just considering that I might be able to hijack a soul." Composedly, Alyssa yielded. "Better not to have to find out, though, right?"

With a clenched jaw, Kat's teeth felt as if they would shatter. The sheer thought and suggestion of her best friend being subject to such a thing made Kat's blood boil. "Mhmm," she hummed out in reply, knocking back another full glass before walking away, abandoning the dagger on the bartop for the rest of the afternoon.

[ @alyssa-ward ] [ Mentioned: @blue-eyedraven ]

( [Chapter I] [Chapter II] [Chapter III] [Chapter IV] ) ( [pt.I] [pt.II] [pt.III] [pt.IV] [pt.V] [pt.VI] [pt.VII] )

#ic #plotlines #redemption #pt.VIII #AlyKat

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thirstbxtch · 5 years

Text

Kiss and Make Up

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Rated: M for language

For @bumblebet-20 who requested:

“Hi! If you're still taking requests can I request a Billy Hargrove fic where him and the reader get into a fight, so she goes to a party with Nancy to get her mind off the fight. She gets crazy drunk and someone calls Billy who quickly shows up and they make up (maybe she's super angry when he shows up but that quickly ends???) Hopefully this makes sense! Thank you!!!!”

Hope you like!

“Hey, what’s this?” You ask, thumbing over a nasty bruise just above Billy’s wrist as he shifts gears, whipping out of the school parking lot.

“Its nothing,” he dismisses, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

You draw your hand away with an “Oh.”

“What?” He asks, annoyance edging into voice.

“What?” You return somewhat confused.

“Why’d you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to be a nosy bitch that’s what,” he says sharply.

“I’m sorry, what?” You reply, starting to get heated yourself.

“You heard me, its none of your fucking business, just because we’re fucking doesn’t mean its any of your business.”

“Just because we’re fucking?” You repeat. Like you weren’t expecting flowers from Hawkin’s newest bad boy, but you had thought maybe after that night on the hood of his Camaro under the stars it was at least more than fucking.

Billy doesn’t answer. Just clenches his jaw; tightens his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Just pull over Billy. I’ll walk home. Don’t want you to feel obligated to drive me home, just because we’re fucking,” you say dryly.

He sighs.

“Come on, don’t get all dramatic, you knew what you were getting yourself into.”

He cuts you a look. You’re looking out the window.

“And now I’m getting out; I said pull the fuck over.”

Another huff. But the Camaro slows to a stop, almost reluctantly, but he doesn’t say anything to change your mind.

You each look each other over before you grab your books and get out, letting the door slam.

You call Nancy as soon as you get in.

“Hey Nance, you still going to Tommy’s party tonight?”

“Umm, I’m not sure, we got like a ton of chemistry homework today.”

“Oh,” you say lamely. Right. The chemistry homework.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, its just, Billy and I got in a fight. Kind of wanted the distraction,” you explain hopefully, “we can work on the chemistry homework together tomorrow if you go tonight,” you add casually.

“Ugh fine we can go,” she relents, “but also I told you he was no good. I’ll pick you up at 9.”

There’s already a decent crowd when you and Nancy arrive. Nancy drifts off to find one of her other friends and you quickly locate the alcohol. You just want to be numb; the sting of anger still fresh within you. And this really isn’t the best idea because oh god, what if he shows up, which he probably will, so you just decide it’ll be better to be drunk either way. You skip the beers sitting in a cooler, and opt for the open bottle of Jack Daniels, mixing a Jack and Coke that’s mostly Jack. And do a shot first before drinking that, just to, you know, take the edge off.

You find Nancy. She’s watching Tommy and Carol and company play Truth or Dare. Billy is strangely absent. He must really be in a mood then.

“What happened? Do you wanna talk about it?” Nancy offers.

“No, I just want to forget about it,” you reply, taking a healthy sip of your drink.

“Are you guys still--?” She trails off uncertainly.

You bite your lip.

“Umm, I’m not really sure,” you say. You had said you were getting out; you weren’t sure if you meant getting out of the car or getting out of the relationship. Was it a relationship? Everyone knows Billy Hargrove’s got a reputation. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was already thinking about moving on.

“Hey,” Nancy places her hand on your shoulder, “he’s a jerk. You could do so much better.”

You know she’s just saying that to try to lift your spirits.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you concede, not really sure if you believe her. Billy Hargrove is and will be the hottest thing to ever blow into this nowhere town Indiana. You drink, draining the rest of your glass, hoping the bottom will convince you otherwise.

11PM

Nancy is leaving. She’s not feeling well. She wants to go home early. You’ve had four Jack and Cokes so far. You feel good; got a nice buzz going. The fight with Billy is nagging at the edges. You want to stay. If you just drink a little more, it’ll be fine. You’ll forget.

“Are you going to be okay? How are you going to get home?” She asks, glancing between you and the drink in your hand.

“Yeah, I’m good, I’ll be fine,” you smile easily, too easily, “I’ll figure something out.”

She doesn’t believe you, not entirely.

“Okay well, just try not to have too much more.”

“I’ll be fine,” you shrug.

You join Tommy, Carol, and company, who are now well on their way to be being trashed playing Never Have I Ever. Seems like the perfect place to be.

And then everything starts blurring together, one drink into the next. Finally reached that Billy who? state of mind you’ve been looking for all night.

You stumble to your feet, deciding to get up.

"Where are you going?" Tina asks, giggling.

"The pool."

"The pool? Its too cold, you don't have anything to swim in anyways."

"I'll swim in my clothes," you reason drunkenly.

"You can't get in the pool." She's laughing now.

"Yes, yes I can. Come here, I'll show you," you take her hand, pulling her unsteadily to Tommy's back door.

Its locked. And the lock is all weird, there's like a dead bolt, and one of those twisty, barrel bolt ones.

You reach for the little knob on the barrel, trying to twist it to pull the lock through, but its old and it keeps getting stuck.

"Tina, Tina, I can't do it," you laugh, continuing to struggle with the lock. "I can't, I can't do it," you're borderline hystical now, pressing your back against the door as you sink to the floor, still laughing.

"Oh god, okay, why don't we take you somewhere quiet," Tina muses, helping you up off the floor where you've now decided to lay.

Tommy just can't resist going to the phone because this is just too good really.

“What?” Billy answers, annoyance evident over the line.

"Need to come get your girl Hargrove, she's real out of line, falling down drunk and everything," Tommy says excitedly into the receiver.

“Can’t be fucking calling my place this time of night Tommy, you’re lucky my parents are out of town this weekend.”

He hangs up the phone with a sharp click and bites the inside of his cheek.

You’re laying in the empty bedroom Tina left you in, trying to get it together, making a list of people most likely to give you a ride home.

The door opens and clicks shut.

“What the fuck is going on here? Can't handle your liqour?" Billy asks, clearly displeased, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You draw your gaze away from the ceiling to look at him. Tight jeans, white tank, black leather jacket; a scowl to match.

“Fuck off Billy," you reply, feigning disinterest, returning your gaze to the ceiling, "And considering how much I’ve had to drink, I would say I'm handling it rather well." Honestly, you’re surprised you’re not laying on the cool tile of the bathroom floor in between sessions of throwing up into the toilet.

"Come on, sit up, drink this water," he orders, pulling you up easily to rest against the pillows, shoving a glass of water in your direction.

And yeah, you're still in that state of wasted where impulse control is non existent.

You grab the water, only to throw it in his face.

"I said, fuck off Billy," you repeat harshly, setting the now empty glass on the nightstand with a thud.

He sits there stunned for all of half a second before slowly raising a hand to wipe the water and his now wet bangs away from his face.

You flash him a smile.

"This funny to you?" He asks.

"Hilarious, actually."

"Alright, come here," he lunges toward you, grabbing you tightly by the shoulders, face inches from yours. The adrenaline of uncertainty flushes through you.

"If we were just fucking, I wouldn't be here right now," he pauses, gaze flicking anxiously over your face, "do you understand what I'm telling you?"

It takes a few moments for everything to really penetrate your alcohol soaked brain. You look down at your lap. Is this real? Really real? Or? Maybe you’re even more wasted than you thought. Maybe you passed out. But the closeness of him, the scent of cigarettes and leather, his fingers gripping your shoulders; all have too much gravity to be otherwise.

You raise your gaze back up to his.

“Yeah.” You let out a breath. “Yeah.” You say again with more finality.

Billy closes the small amount of space between you, capturing your mouth in his. He’s still wet from the water you threw on him and his lips slide easily against yours. His grip on your shoulders relaxing as he slides a hand up to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair and you pull him close by the leather of his jacket, kissing him back all need and want, but the night is catching up with you and you’re suddenly exhausted. You break away when his tongue swipes sweetly along your bottom lip.

“‘M tired,” you murmur, eyelids growing heavy.

He gives you a knowing grin.

“Bet you are,” he stands, “come on then.” He lifts you off the bed bridal style, and you tug at his jacket.

“No, I can walk,” you plead, suddenly shy, not wanting to face the embarrassment of being carried out, like you haven’t embarrassed yourself enough already tonight.

“Like hell you can.”

Billy’s right because that’s the last thing you remember; passed out before he even gets to the bottom of the steps, vaguely waking up when he puts you in the passenger seat of the Camaro.

He gently shakes you awake when he gets to your house, and you groan in annoyance as he pulls you out of the car, helping you to the door.

“Drink some water, okay,” He says, kissing you chastely, and you hum and nod before going inside.

You drink two glasses out of water, and pass the fuck out.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #dacre montgomery

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nerdywizardflower · 4 years

Text

Reading as a coping mechanism: advantages and disadvantages

All of us have that one particular thing/ activity that keeps us grounded and acts as a coping mechanism. For me, it has always been reading from as far back as I can remember. Whenever I try to think of moments in my life that have shaped me or impacted me, it has always been those reading sessions on my tablet at 3:00 AM in the darkness, under the covers in my bed. I remember the times I read Harry Potter at night before a dreaded math exam. I think of worlds that I’ve been in, the characters that I’ve loved. Reading for me has been more of a coping mechanism than a leisure activity.

For a person that NEEDS to have ‘something to do/achieve’ in order to feel happy or content with their situation in life, reading has always had my back as an effective strategy to cope with my thoughts or the lack of them. It saves me from feeling worthless when I don’t have anything to achieve or prove my worth to myself and others.

There was a time I used to take pride in being the most emotionally invested person, my head was always swarming with ideas, thoughts and scenarios. Over the course of time, that buzzing brain activity has been replaced by a maddening static. A numbness that doesn’t hurt, but still makes me wonder where all those noises went. In short, my emotions have disassociated themselves from my reality. It might sound fun but everything feels like an elaborate, everlasting dream in this state.

During the pandemic, that numbness has increased. The lack of stimulation/challenges from the environment threaten my self on a daily basis. I don’t like the lack of activity in my head so I decided I would read to cope with this. I set up a Goodreads reading challenge for myself and I read everyday to meet that particular goal. First I set up an easy goal. 25 books by the end of this year but then my best friend asked me increase it because it was too easy to achieve so I increased it to 50. I am at 33/50. My college will reopen soon. I don’t think I will be able to dedicate that much time to reading when the new semester starts so I’m in a bit of a reading rush this week.

All That being said, now I would like to talk about the benefits and disadvantages of using reading as a coping mechanism.

BENEFITS OF READING AS A COPING MECHANISM.

1. It is a productive coping mechanism: Unlike other coping mechanisms like binging on food, TV etc, reading is a rather productive coping mechanism. While you read, you gain a lot of knowledge, your brain is actively working while reading and that differentiates it from other passive mechanisms of coping.

2. It helps deal with cycles of toxic thoughts: When you’re reading, you are immersed in a different world, a world where your problems don’t exist, where your toxic thoughts can’t enter. As long as it is not being used as a reason to procrastinate, reading to deal with your problems and your thoughts is beneficial for you.

3. Reading makes your imagination run wild: I read to deal with the lack of thoughts in my head. I read to fill that emptiness in my head when I’m not doing anything. Reading makes me imagine, it fills my head with characters, places and people and their problems. I think it’s a pretty good way to deal with that numbness instead of sitting and brooding or sleeping.

4. Reading makes you empathetic towards people: As a reader, I know there are a lot of stories around, that all people are heroes in their stories. It makes me understand that every action of theirs comes from a place that I wouldn’t understand unless I want to. Reading made me realize that all people have their problems and that I should try to understand them before judging them.

5. Reading takes you to places you haven’t been: Reading can be a very effective way to cope especially since we’re stuck at home during this pandemic. For people who love to travel, reading can take you to places you haven’t been without even stepping out of your room.

DISADVANTAGES OF READING AS A COPING MECHANISM.

Generally, I don’t often talk about the disadvantages of reading. What can be wrong with reading? It’s a perfectly good hobby/ coping mechanism. However, there are a lot of problems that are introduced in your life when you’re a compulsive reader.

1. Reading keeps you detached from your real life: I have often noticed that I read to escape the lack of brilliance in my life. This has two consequences: first, the real world becomes less and less appealing to you and second, it becomes difficult to get out of your fantasy world and be completely present in the real world.

2. Reading comes with an irrational compulsion to buy more books: This is a problem that no-one addresses. Reading is a pretty cheap hobby to begin with. In the world of technology, you can get millions of ebooks for free. The libraries also provide us with physical books. Yet we buy lots of books every year for ‘therapy’ or simply for the joy of owning a book. This leads to irrational book shopping sprees late at night. Sometimes We buy books that we don’t even end up reading. I won’t deny, I’ve done that too.

3. Readers are natural Hoarders: we all love to hoard books don’t we? All of us have dreams of owning multiple shelves full of books. Our obsession to hoard is so strong that we even keep books that we don’t like or the ones we are never going to read. Why? Because we want to own a lot of books. Believe me, that’s a serious problem.

Reading might have a lot of advantages and some disadvantages but one irrefutable fact about reading books is that it as a productive coping mechanism and will continue to be one for as long as humanity will last.

#fantasy readers #sweet readers #readers of tumblr #reader problems #reader #books #books & libraries #bookshelf #books and literature #booksociety #bookblr #book blog #book quotes #booknerd #bookstagram #mental health #coping mechanisms

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