#there were things i wanted to get done today but instead ive just been sitting in my chair waiting for my brain to allow me to do SOMETHING

[normalbirb]

Having adhd is like being stuck in rooms with no exits and then told by neurotypicals i should have just done like them and walked through a door

#im just a bit frustrated today #there were things i wanted to get done today but instead ive just been sitting in my chair waiting for my brain to allow me to do SOMETHING #like literally ive just been sitting #nothing else #stuck in my head trying to at least do smth i enjoy #like i wanna draw #but nooooooo my brain had to load for 2hours before i could do even that #adhd #neurodivergent

[rinstaro]

attitude

a/n: this is an ask for twilight that i accidentally deleted lol. this one’s gonna be loooooong. i feel really sick today so sorry if it’s really bad 🫠 not proofread because im ashamed of what ive done

cw: overstim <33, clit slapping, twilight being mean cause you pissed him off, you shouldn’t have bitched at him!! he says mean things in the sweetest tone, he still loves you very much, crying, biting, squirting, he cums in you hnnnnn, reader has a vagina and no pronouns

minors do not interact.

twilight was at his wits end. he’d come home to a clean house, a lovely dinner, and yet you were no where to be found. when he ventured into your shared bedroom, you were perched on the bed with your nose in a book. twilight got the feeling you weren’t reading, though.

you glanced at him quickly before letting out a small huff. what was that all about, he wondered. “i’m home, doll,” he smiled, reaching a finger out to push your book down. instead you snatched it away from him, causing him to jump back.

“did you eat?” you asked, still not looking at him. he frowned at your strange behavior. he decided to ignore it, maybe you were just really into that book?

“it was amazing, doll. i cleaned up the dishes for you.”

“hm. thanks,” you mumbled, finally setting your book down. twilight thought you were finally giving him some attention, only to watch you climb off the bed and walk towards the door. “i’m gonna fold the laundry.”

“oh, i did that too.” you grit your teeth. of course he did. he was just doing everything but you, huh?

the reason you were upset at him may have been silly, but you couldn’t help it. when you woke up this morning, there was an ache between your legs. you tried to ignore it, but how could you when your lover was right next to you? it was rare that you woke up before him, so you thought you’d use it to your advantage.

you turned over, wrapping your arms around his waist the same way his were currently wrapped around yours. you leaned up a bit, placing soft kisses on his neck at which he stirred slightly. you pressed your almost naked form closer to him, innocent kisses turning into little love bites. soon enough your lover was awake. “mmm, mornin’.”

“g’morning, baby. sleep well?”

“mhm. always do when you’re next ‘ta me. c’mere,” he mumbled, laying on his back and pulling you into his lap. perfect, you thought.

you ran your hands down his chest, your gaze heated. twilight had closed his eyes again, relishing in the feeling of your body heat. you leaned down, lips hovering over his when—

“are ya comin’ with me today?”

“…huh?”

“you said you wanted to come watch me work, right?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at your confused face. you almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing. here you were in all your glory, horny, barely any clothes on, and he was thinking about work?

you pouted, climbing off of him and laying back down, back towards him. “i’m still sleepy. maybe tomorrow,” you mumbled. twilight thought nothing of it, assuming your attitude was due to you being ‘sleepy’.

“alright, darlin, i’ll see you soon.” without a second thought, twilight rose, planting a kiss on your forehead before going to get ready for the day.

yes, you were pissed off because you didn’t get to fuck your husband in the early morning. damn him for being so hardworking.

now you were standing in the door frame looking silly, still scantily clad with a scowl on your face. “thank you,” you hissed. you had no choice but to walk back to the bed, sitting next to him and picking back up your book. twilight frowned. this was getting frustrating.

“whatsa matter, darlin’? you okay?” he asked directly, prying the book out of your hands. you looked appalled at the fact that he dared take it away from you. “i’m fine—“

“no you’re not. tell me. now.”

“excuse me? why do i have to?” you growled, “whatever. go play with your stupid goats.” with that, you stood once more, marching towards the door. before you could even reach for the handle, your lover’s hand was around your neck, chest pressed to your back.

a growl rumbled in his chest, making you freeze on the spot. you could tell that he was trying to calm his breathing, the grip on your neck pinning you in place. “mind sayin’ that again?”you choked back a whimper, slightly shaking your head no. “i d-didnt mean—“

“you didn’t, huh? so why you been so mean since i got here?” he could feel you swallow. when you didn’t respond, twilight took a moment to sniff the air.

right, just like he thought. surely you wouldn’t talk to him like that for no reason. “how ‘bout you go sit your pretty self back on the bed? i’ll make sure that attitude’s dealt with.”

and that’s how you were tied up by your wrists and stripped bare in the span of 15 minutes.

there were bite marks littering your entire body, coloring your skin in different shades of reds, purples and blues. you trembled, tears decorating your lash line already while your lover sat in front of you and spanked your clit.

“can’t even go one day without me touchin’ this cunt? that’s a lil’ pathetic even for you, doll,” twilight hummed, landing another slap on your clit. you cried out, legs twitching in an effort to close. too bad twilight was absolutely fucking massive. “got me a runner, huh? you know that’s not gonna work, darlin’.”

your pussy was sobbing, a damp spot already formed on the sheets. your clit was so sensitive from his spankings and you didn’t think you could take anymore.

“i-i’m sorry, please let me go! i won’t do it anymore!”

“hm? i’m just givin’ ya what you wanted,” he smirked, thumbing at your over sensitive clit. you gasped, legs trying to close again. he never understood why you kept trying to stop him, you craved his touch. how could he deny you what you had been asking for?

“y’know what? i think you even deserve a reward for waiting for so long,” twilight said while lowering himself and pushing your thighs back, not even giving you a moment to brace yourself as his tongue attacked your swollen bud.

you let out a slutty moan, rolling your hips into his mouth. “ahhn, link!–” finally he was giving you what you wanted and more. you couldn’t help but yell his name, eyes rolling back in pure bliss.

even though he was upset with you, twilight only ever wanted to please you. his dick twitched in his pants at every gasp you let out. more, he needed to hear you more. he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking at your gushing cunt. the tears finally started falling as you came abruptly, overwhelmed by his ministrations and your own sensitivity.

you twisted and turned in your restraints when he didn’t stop, drinking your cum like he hasn’t had water in days. “f-fuuuuck! quit it, let go let go!” you cried. he didn’t listen, not even for a second. instead, he dove his tongue even further into your cunt, viciously tongue fucking you towards your second orgasm. your legs shook in his grasp.

“please please i’m sorry! n-no, no more! too much!” twilight laughed into your cunt at your cries. where’d his tough little darling go? you had only cum once and he was far from done with you.

he kept tongue fucking you until he could feel you cum again, creaming all over his face. he sucked your poor pussy til there was nothing left, pulling away from your clit with a ‘pop’. you continued to shake, eyes squeezed shut. twilight ran his hands up and down your body, massaging the tense muscles. he didn’t need you cramping, he still hadn’t fucked you full of cum.

he gave you a minute before he spoke. “you said you’re sorry?” “mhm,” you whimpered in response. he smiled softly, grabbing your chin and kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue. “how you gonna make it up to me? you thought i’d let ya off that easy, brat?” you flinched at his words. his tone was sinister, holding promises that tonight would not end well for you.

“y’know, i was thinkin’ ‘bout you all day. your pretty face never leaves my mind,” he spoke quietly. “neither does that pretty cunt. thought about how my sweet darling feels so good when i fuck them. after all, don’t i deserve something for dealin’ with that nasty attitude of yours?”

as mean as he sounded, he was testing you. seeing if you wanted to stop. after all of that? fuck no. you needed him to batter your pussy til it was sore. you whimpered once more as you nodded, which made your lover laugh.

“there’s my good doll. just needed me to take care of you, right? then you’ll stop all that bitchin’?”

he finally stripped himself of his clothing, making you drool at the sight of him. you squirmed once more, whining at him. “liiiiiiink!” his dick throbbed painfully at the sound of his name coming from you. “please lemme go, i wanna hold you too.”

you’re so damn cute. how could he say no to such a precious request? he was gonna destroy you.

twilight untied the rope binding your wrists, sighing dreamily when your arms wrapped around his neck. maybe he should let you get this needy more often.

“you ready, darlin’?”

“y-yes, please give it to me,” you whispered, looking him right in the eyes. he could’ve came right then and there.

slowly, he pushed his cock into you, the stretch making you hiss. it felt like he was splitting you open every time and you adored it. a broken moan left your throat, toes curling so hard it hurt. twilight was no better off, shuddering when his hips met yours.

“oh my— fuck, move!” you yelped. he started at an easy pace, letting you get used to his size. your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the pleasure sending you into a frenzy. hell, twilight could even feel you trying to fuck him back, your hips chasing his whenever he pulled back.

“that’s it, fuck, let me feel you,” he growled, gradually increasing his pace. your cunt was so wet, clenching around him so hard, he felt like he was in heaven.

“my p-precious darlin’ was just waitin’ for me, huh? needed me to bury my cock in ya? ‘s that all?”

“yes! yesyesyes, please! i love you so much, please!”

twilights pace stuttered, a choked groan tumbling out of his mouth. “i love you, too. gonna make me cum.” you were about to cum yourself, thighs shaking violently. you pulled him into a searing kiss that sent both of you over the edge. you were cumming so hard you couldn’t breathe, cunt squirting all over your husband and yourself. he moaned loudly, thrusts slowing but never stopping as he fucked his cum into you.

you started growing sensitive once more, begging him to stop, to take a break. but he couldn’t, not when you missed him so much and your pussy fucked him so good. twilight suddenly started fucking you at an animalistic pace, his grip on your hips bruising. you were screaming, certain that the entire village could hear you. your poor neighbors.

“fuckfuck, can’t stop, so fuckin’ good, need more,” he moaned out, throwing your legs over his shoulders. your back arched almost painfully. he was so deep you could only feel him. everything felt so good, too good, and you weren’t sure if you could handle any more.

“link, it’s too good! c-can’t take it! can’t— oh my— hahhhh!” your fucked out babbling was cut short as you came again, squirting all over the two of you once more. you felt so good, you were sobbing. twilight chuckled darkly.

“there ya go, jus’ like that. give me all of it til there’s nothin’ left, you hear me?”

#head in hands. #i’m gonna go insane #kore.writes #link x reader #link x reader smut #loz #loz x reader smut #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda x reader smut #loz x reader #kores.blurbs

[sugaakookiee]

All the Time in the World | JJK |

Title: All the Time in the World

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst

Word count: 5.5K

Posting day: 122723

Summary: You meet a cute boy at the hospital that was in a wheelchair. He brought you more joy than you’ve ever seen since you got admitted. He makes you wish you had all the time in the world.

Warnings: based on JK’s storyline in HYYH, reader has a terminal illness (not specified), death of reader, JK sings to her the night before she dies (if I’m missing a warning, please let me know)

(AN: This is the first thing that I’ve put out that I’ve written out of my BTS fics, so it might not be so great but I’m getting better every day haha)

Today was just another day of you sitting by the window and looking out of your hospital room. Since you got admitted here a month and a half ago, the days never seem to change. You wake up, maybe throw up for five minutes, stare outside your window until breakfast, eat breakfast, then go back to the window until lunch, eat lunch, then go back to the window until dinner, eat dinner, then go back to the window until Lights Out. You couldn't say that you were eating; it was more like taking in whatever you could stomach every meal.

It wasn't like anybody was keeping you in your room. You could leave anytime. Your nurses and parents sometimes plead with you to go outside, that it's not good to be in your room. You know it's not good to be locked in all day, but what's the point of enjoying life if life doesn't want you to enjoy it? For the millionth time since you've been here, you look down at your hands to see the back of your left hand occupied by a needle held down by white tape. Next, you look up next to you to see your IV drip on the pole.

You were dying, and instead of your parents leaving you at home, they put you here. They said it was to make it clear that being here can make you feel better, but you knew, and they knew there was no way out. Whether it was here or at home, you were going to die. While the doctors say it wouldn't be anytime soon, your negative thoughts are already catching up. The only way you can describe yourself when you look in the mirror is Hell; you had prominent eye bags, your hair was thinning out, and you were losing weight from how little you were eating.

Your session of wallowing in your self-pity is interrupted by knocks on the door. You didn't even look at who it could be because only one person comes to your room during early mornings. It was none other than one of your nurses, Nabi.

"Good morning," She says while opening the door, holding a tray. She places it on a table next to your bed. "How are you feeling? Did you throw up today?" She looks at you to see you shake your head. That's another thing that's changed since you've been here; you haven't said a word to anyone.

"That's a relief to hear. There is your breakfast, and your parents called to let me know they're coming today." You weren't sure why Nurse Nabi had to tell you that your parents were coming to see you. She has done that since you have been here, and you were sure visitors could come without calling in. You figured they called in to make sure you were still alive.

You lazily get off the chair you were sitting in, dragging your IV pole with you, and return to bed to eat breakfast. Unfortunately, because of your illness, you had a weak stomach, so soft foods were your best friends.

You stare blankly at your tray for a few moments: a small bowl of oatmeal, banana slices, plain yogurt, and a glass of water. You felt a hand move your hair out of your face. You look up to see Nabi, who is still in your room.

"You know, your birthday is in about six months, and I think it would be great that you make it to 18." She said. While she never heard you talk, you and Nabi enjoyed each other's company. You remember one time she said that you gave her the least hard time compared to everyone else she has to watch, which is something she is not supposed to say, but you won't tell anyone.

When you finally looked at Nabi, she flashed you a quick grin before speaking again, "Anyway, eat what you can. Your parents will be here in a bit." You nod to confirm that you heard her. You only start to eat after Nabi leaves the room, taking in small spoonfuls each time. When Nabi closes the door, she starts taking deep breaths to control her tears, knowing the chances of living to your birthday are slim.

After a visit from your parents and a check to see how much you have eaten, which, luckily, was half of everything, you go back to your window until lunchtime. As you look outside, you hear your father clear his throat to get your attention.

"Well, we'll see you next time. I'll go talk to Nabi, then we can go." He said, directing to your mother. He leaves the room, leaving you with your mother. You could sense her coming up behind you and putting both hands on your shoulders.

"You wanna go outside before we leave, baby?" She asked softly, only for you to shake your head. She sighs at your response, "You can't be in here all day. It's not good for you." You shrug. At this point, you didn't care.

~~~

"Nabi, come on, you have to give us something." Your father says.

"Mr. YLN, I know you and your wife sent her here so she can get better, but this isn't something we can fix. Maybe it's time we send her home-"

"No!" He interrupts Nabi loudly, making her jump in surprise. "No." He says again quietly. "There has to be something you can do. It's like she's already dead, and I can't stand it. Try getting her spirits up. Make her go outside, do something. I mean, there has to be someone here she can be friends with."

"I'll see what I can do."

When they finish their conversation, your father returns to your room to retrieve your mother so they can leave. Once your parents depart from the hospital, Nabi thinks about the short chat with your father, and she knows what she can do for you.

~~~

With your parents gone, you spent the rest of the time at the window. Things were the same most of the time: it was sunny most days, sometimes cloudy, and at times, you saw other patients walking around in the garden to get fresh air. Sometimes, you don't know how long you've been looking out the window as your mind wanders, wishing you were in places that weren't here.

The sounds of knocks echo through your room again. You look up at the clock, only to realize it's lunchtime.

"YN, It's lunchtime," Nabi says as she opens the door, placing the tray on the table she used before. You look back at her, then return your gaze to the window. She lets out a sigh, "Come on, YN. I have something to talk to you about. I think I'll make you happy."

Once you lay back in your bed, you stare blankly at your tray again: a small bowl of chili, sliced strawberries, cubes of gelatin, and a glass of water. You could only wait for Nabi to say whatever she wanted to say. Before she starts, she opens a drawer next to the bed to get a hairbrush from inside. It was yours, but you stopped using it when your hair started thinning.

"You know..." She starts speaking, brushing my hair, "Upstairs, there's a boy around your age. I think he's a bit older than you, a year maybe." Upstairs? You've been here long enough to know that the floor after this one is where they held the patients who had paralysis. "He's been here for a little over three weeks. He's just starting to use his wheelchair. You could, you know, make a friend. Maybe after lunch, I could take you to the floor."

As she finishes talking, she holds onto all your hair and ties it into a loose, low ponytail, "What do you say, hm?" Nabi tries to prompt an answer from you, but you only shrug, "Well, I'm going to be outside if you wanna go." She takes her leave soon after so you can eat lunch or whatever you can eat.

After about an hour, you're finally out of your room, looking for Nabi. You had to blink a few times to get used to the lights in the hallway. It had been a long time since you stepped out of your room. Once your eyes are focused, you see Nabi, who sees you from the corner of her eye while talking to another nurse.

You see her excuse herself from the discussion with the nurse and walk towards you. "You wanna go?" You nod. "Okay, let me take back your tray, and I can take you there." Before she can move, you shake your head. "What? What's wrong?" Nabi asked, and you only pointed at yourself, "You wanna go alone?" You nod once again. "Okay, just remember, you have to talk."

Once on the upper floor, you started looking for a boy around your age in a wheelchair, pushing your pole along with you. Maybe he was still in his room or the garden outside. Nabi never told you what room he was in, so you wanted to call it quits until tomorrow. Well, almost. Right before you turn the corner to the elevators, you hear the sound of squeaking wheels. You turn towards the direction of the noise to see a boy, the boy Nabi was talking about.

You could tell he was still trying to get used to being in the chair by the strength he was putting into pushing himself. Each push made him look at the floor, allowing you to move to get his attention. As he rolls closer, you hold out your right arm, hoping he will notice you and stop. When he's two feet from hitting you, he stops moving the wheelchair.

He lifts his head to look at you, then tilts it in confusion. You stare at him for a few moments before turning your hand to shake his. Once he figures out what you want, he reaches his hand out to shake yours. You both hold on to each other's hand when they make contact.

~~~

"So..." The boy started. You both were in the sitting area, which was vacant, "Why are you here?" You weren't sure how to answer that. How could you say that you were dying and didn't want to be here? "Not much of a talking, I see. I can go first. Believe it or not, I'm a dancer. I was walking home after practice, and it was dark. I was being an idiot, and I didn't look both ways when I crossed the street, and I got hit by a car. When I woke up, they told me I was lucky that I was paralyzed only from the waist down. I was worried I wouldn't be able to walk again, but they said the chances of me walking again were high. Anyway, it's your turn."

You weren't sure how you would sound after not talking for a month and a half. Do you even remember what you sound like? Your mouth seems to work faster than your brain as you start talking without your control, "I'm sick." Those were the first words you've said since being here. "They said that I'm..." How would he react if you told him you didn't know how much time you had? You couldn't. "They told me that sometimes it will feel like I'm dying, but it would get worse before it gets better. It's scary sometimes, to be honest."

"That's good - not the dying part, I mean. At least you know you'll get out of here eventually." He says. Oh, how much you wanted to tell him you'd leave the building, just not from the front door. "Oh, I just realized we never introduced ourselves to each other. I'm Jungkook." He sticks out his hand, presumably to shake yours. You take a hold of his to shake it, "I'm YN."

You wake up feeling all the contents in your stomach coming up your throat. You throw the covers off yourself and rush into the bathroom, fall onto your knees, and throw up last night’s dinner into the toilet bowl. You should be used to this by now, but it never stops feeling like mental spoons are coming down. As it goes on, your eyes fill with tears, and you feel the bile burning your throat.

When you finish, you grab a few sheets of toilet paper and wipe your mouth. You sigh at the paper, becoming drenched in a dark red substance. It’s not been great seeing blood coming out of your mouth for the past few weeks. You throw away the paper in the trash bin, seeing the pile of bloodied paper coming up the brim.

You don’t know how long you can do this for. If it’s going to keep getting insufferable, you don’t want to be here anymore.

You collapse on the floor of the bathroom, feeling your eyes close. You want to fall asleep on the cold floor, not wanting to deal with the day. You open them up when you hear knocks on the door and the noisy hinges when it opens.

“Good morning, YN,” Nabi’s voice echoes through your room. You hear her sigh as she sees your IV pole in the bathroom, the figure of your body on the floor, placing your breakfast tray down, and the sound of her shoes coming closer to you. She stops at the doorway, seeing you lying on the floor, “You okay? Come on, get up.” She grabs you firmly and pulls you up to your feet, “Let’s lay you down in bed.”

You walk weakly back to your bed, feeling the pain in your throat and stomach still prevalent, “You lay down, and I’ll get you something else to eat, then we gotta change your needle.” Nabi continued. You glance down at your left hand, seeing a large purple bruise from all the needles of your IV. You wince as you climb back to bed and lie down. Nabi gently moves your hair out of the way of your eyes, smiling sadly at the discoloration on your face, “I’ll be back.” She says before taking the tray and leaving the room.

You fall asleep for about 10 minutes before being woken by knocks at your door. Nabi came in again, “I got you soup,” she said, placing the tray in front of you and a new needle to switch out the old one that she placed on the drawer next to your bed, “Also, a special someone told me to give this to you.” She reaches into her pockets and pulls out a Binggrae Strawberry banana milk carton with a sticky note pasted on it.

‘Nabi told me you weren’t feeling so good, so I got you this. I’ll meet you outside in the garden after breakfast :) - JK.’

Although you wanted to sleep for the rest of the day because you feel sick, maybe going outside will do you good. You didn’t know why, but ever since you met Jungkook, you’ve been getting up more and going outside, something your parents tried and failed to get you to do. After you manage to eat about half of your soup, drink almost all the milk, and Nabi changes your IV needle, you get out of bed to make your way to the garden outside.

Before you met Jungkook, when you didn’t go outside, the garden always seemed like a small place. It didn’t look that big from your window, but being there was a different experience. The garden had all kinds of flowers, all thanks to the patients on the downstairs floors, which was the mental hospital section, who used gardening as a sort of therapy. Sometimes, you saw kids running around as patients would have kids visiting.

As you approach the garden closer, you see Jungkook sitting on a bench. You shout to get his attention, but you soon realize he has his earphones in, leaving your shouts unheard. Once you get closer to him, you place a hand on his shoulder and pull off one of his earbuds, slightly making him jump.

“Hey.” You said, your voice slightly shaky from your morning sickness. He has a small notebook and a pencil in his hands.

“Hey.” He said back, “How are you feeling? Nabi said you felt sick.” He continued with concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine, Jungkook, don’t worry.” You sit next to him on the bench, making him move one of his walking sticks to the other side next to him.

“I have to worry, we’re friends.” You roll your eyes at his reply. Although you were the one who approached him, you weren’t very used to having friends, especially being here. Before you signed into the hospital, you had a handful of friends who never came to see you, but your parents would say that they asked for you.

“Did you like your present?” Jungkook asked, referencing the banana milk he bought you with a silly smile on his face.

“Yes, I did, and I thought I told you to stop buying them for me. You only get so much money once a week that your parents give you.” You rue the day you told Jungkook you liked Strawberry milk when he offered to buy you one passing by a vending machine. Now, when he finds out you’re sick or feeling down, he drops off a carton to Nabi so she can bring it to you.

“If it makes you feel better, I bought one for myself too.” You playfully slap him on the shoulder at his reply, then just let the peaceful silence of the outside take over the space. You look over to see Jungkook sketching in his notebook. The more you watch him, the more you can see a butterfly. For some reason, you’ve never seen them fly around here. Maybe they don’t vibe with the sick and injured. Well, you have seen only one, which made your day every day.

The more you sit here next to him, the more you replay this morning’s events, and before you know it, you speak. “Hey, Jungkook.” Your voice breaks the comfortable silence, “How come you decided to be my friend?”

Jungkook halts his sketching, hearing your question, then chuckles, “Need I remind you that you approached me first.” He replies to your question and then returns to his sketch.

“I know I did, but usually, when a person doesn’t want to be friends with someone, they don’t buy them things or talk to them much the next day.”

Jungkook puts down his notebook once again, “YN before I met you, I was in a coma for two weeks, and I didn’t know how I was going push myself to walk again. When I woke up, I thought about how I had to give up dancing, and that’s all I had. Maybe I would’ve eventually, but not as fast as I have. I mean, I’ve been here for three months, and I’m already using crutches.”

“What does that have to do with me?” How can a terminally ill girl like you give someone the will to return to who they were before?

“Maybe I just needed someone who knew what I was going through. Maybe we aren’t in the same boat, but we are in the same ocean.”

Maybe we aren’t in the same boat, but we are in the same ocean.

Yeah, except one day, your life is going to end, and Jungkook’s is going to continue. You two have known each other for three months, and yet, he still doesn’t know. He can’t.

“YN!” They both look behind them to see Nabi. She signals her to come inside, “Your parents are here!”

You can barely breathe now, sensing pending doom travels through your body. That’s one of the disadvantages of dying, your body knows. You don’t hurl out your food anymore, but that’s just because you can’t. Your throat burns all the time, and you can't eat or drink. You couldn’t even drink the Strawberry milk Jungkook would buy you, no matter how Nabi or you told him to stop buying them.

You’ve got boxes of tissues nearby, as you’ve been coughing up blood now, instead of it happening when you empty your stomach. You can’t sleep now, not knowing if you’re going to wake up the next morning or not, having to feel the sense of death every day until your body finally gives up.

You check the clock for the millionth time, seeing it read 11:40. If your body decides to shut down after that clock turns 12, that would surely be the worst time to die. You’d be okay with any other day, but not tomorrow. It can be the next day, just not tomorrow. You freeze when you hear soft knocks on the door. You know it’s not Nurse Yomi doing her night checks, so it can only be one person.

The door opens enough for the boy to let himself in, awkwardly trying to fit along with his crutches in the small gap.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper loud enough for only him to hear.

“I’m worried. I haven’t seen you in a week, and Nabi is vague about what’s happening.”

“Well, if you’ve seen me now, you can go, Jungkook.”

“What is that?” You can see he’s gesturing to a trash bin next to your bed filled with bloodied tissues. He wasn’t supposed to see that.

“It’s…it’s nosebleeds. They have me on this new medication, and it makes me have nosebleeds.” If Jungkook knew how you’ve lied to him about your health, he’d never forgive you.

“Is that why you can’t sleep?” You nod slightly at his question. He looks around the room, sees the chair in your room, and pulls it closer to your bed, trying to create as little noise as possible. He sits in the chair, places his crutches in a stable place, and grabs your right hand, being as gently as he can, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep then.”

“You’ll get in trouble.” You said, trying to convince him to leave.

“It’s whatever. Besides, I know Nabi will have my back.”

As the time goes on, the sense of doom is getting bigger. You know you might not last the night, but it would be better if it happened during sleep.

“Jungkook?” You whisper, thinking that he might be asleep before you are. He quickly proves you wrong.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

“Can you sing?” Your voice breaks as you ask.

“Sing? I guess. I only sing for myself, honestly. If you want me to.” You nod. “Okay.” He clears his throat before he starts singing as quietly as he can.

No limit in the sky

That I won't fly for you

No amount of tears in my eyes

That I won't cry for you

With every breath that I take

I want you to share that air with me

There's no promise that I won't keep

I'll climb a mountain there's none too steep

When it comes to you

There's no crime

Let's take both of our souls

And intertwine

When it comes to you

Don't be blind

Watch me speak from my heart

When it comes to you

Comes to you

Want you to share that

Cupid ain't a lie

Arrow got your name on it

Don't miss out on a love

And regret yourself on it

Open up your mind, clear your head

Ain't gotta wake up to an empty bed

Share my life, it's yours to keep

Now that I give to you all of me

When it comes to you

There's no crime

Let's take both of our souls

And intertwine

When it comes to you

As you hear Jungkook’s voice, you feel your eyelids getting heavy. The pad of his thumb gently touches your knuckles to soothe you, making you fall asleep faster. He notices that your breathing slows down as he’s ending his song. Your grip on his hand is lost as you drift off to dreamland. He waits in the room for a few moments to confirm that you are sleeping, then takes it as his cue to leave. He wasn’t sure if he could sleep. He was too excited to show you a surprise in the morning.

All this time of you pleading to end your suffering had paid off cause as the clock turned to 12:01, you took your last breath, and your heart stopped.

~~~

After sleeping for a few hours, Jungkook gets up to see you. Although he had been still using his crutches, he’d been able to walk regularly for the last few days, and he wanted to surprise you for your birthday, walking through the halls with his own two legs.

“You ready to go home, Jungkook?” He hears his mother ask, “You know I can’t let you be here too long after you’ve healed.”

“I know, I know, just one more day, just today, then I’ll go home.” He heard her sigh before continuing to talk, “Oh, you did bring the flowers I asked for, right, Mom?”

“Yeah, although I don’t know you wanted these specifically.” She said, referring to the mini bouquet of Baby’s Breath flowers in her hand.

Jungkook shrugs before responding, “I saw somewhere that they mean new beginnings, and since it’s her birthday, maybe things will start turning around, and she’ll get better.”

“Jungkook, seriously, what do you plan on doing when you’re out of the hospital? YN is still here. I know you meant well when you became friends with her, but what are you doing after today?”

Jungkook can only shrug again, “I’ll visit to hang out with her. It won’t be the same, but I hope she’ll be okay with me not being here sometimes.” He gestured to his mother to hand him the mini bouquet, “Anyway, I’ll be back. She should be awake by now.”

As he walked through the halls, Jungkook could only imagine your reaction, seeing him walk after six months of recovery. He quickly intakes the smell of the mini bouquet, imagining all the possible outcomes.

He opens the door to your room but doesn’t see you. He doesn’t see any of your belongings. It’s like as if you were never here. The more he looks around to see the lack of your presence, Jungkook replays last night and all the other conversations he had with you. All the signs were there. He drops his flowers to his side as realization dawns upon him.

He recounts the time he asked you why you were in the hospital. You hesitated to answer him before giving him a response. You didn’t tell him the whole truth.

"They told me that sometimes it will feel like I’m dying, but it would get worse before it gets better. It's scary sometimes, to be honest."

He recounts the trash bin that was almost filled to the brim with bloodied tissues from last night. You lied about that as well.

“It’s…it’s nosebleeds. They have me on this new medication, and it makes me have nosebleeds.”

He recounts how you asked him to sing because you couldn’t sleep. His voice was the last one you wanted to hear before death decided to take you away.

“Can you sing?” Your voice breaks as you ask.

How could he be so stupid? How could he not realize that the whole time you’ve known each other, you’ve been dying? He practically sang you to your death last night. How could he feel about that?

~~~

While Jungkook was having an epiphany in your empty hospital room, Nabi was sitting on the floor of a janitor's closet. She needed as much privacy as she could get, crying her eyes out for the millionth time she was reading a letter you left her when this would happen.

You knew that they’d clear out everything from your room, and no matter the time it would happen, you had to make sure she received it.

Your night shift nurse, Yomi, had been doing her checks and opened your door around 12:30 and noticed you weren’t breathing. They did whatever they could, but it was clear that you had been dead for some already.

While clearing your room, staff found a letter in your drawer that only said ‘For Nabi.’ She only found out that you passed away when she came in to do her daytime shift. It hurt more today, as she had a cake prepared for you, proud that you made it your 18th birthday.

Nabi scans her eyes over your writing, her vision blurry from her tears.

‘Nabi, if you’re reading this, my time has run out. I’ve planned to write this up for months, and I’ve written now in case I’m too weak to do so later. I hope that it finds you well. All I wish to say is thank you for being there for me. I know that at the start, I was a headache for you, but I opened up eventually. You never gave up on me when I didn’t want to go outside or talked about the fact that I just wanted to die. Thanks to you, I met Jungkook, and it was the both of you who kept me going for a bit longer while I was in the hospital. I’m not sure when I will pass, but whenever that will be, I hope that I did the most with my time left.

From the seven and a half months we’ve known each other, I can tell you that you made my day every day. While in the hospital, I was heartbroken that I couldn’t see any butterflies. I felt like life was dull without them, not seeing them through my window or in the garden. Thank you for helping me see a butterfly. They’re truly as beautiful as your name, Nabi.’

As she finishes reading over the letter again, her tears uncontrollably stream down her face, hugging the paper close to her chest.

~~~

Jungkook returns to his room, feeling a mixture of rage and sadness. The mini boutique of flowers smashed in his hand, now white from the pressure. He was so enraged at himself that he almost forgot his mother was still there.

“So, how did it go?” She asked, assuming it didn’t go well from the expression on his face and the flowers still in his hands.

“Bad, Mom, very bad.” He pauses for a moment, “She’s dead.” Even when he’s said it, it still doesn’t feel real. His mother covers her mouth with her hands, in shock at the news.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry-“ His mother started, getting closer to him for a hug before Jungkook interrupted her, making her jump.

“She lied, Mom! She lied to me about everything, and I should have known!”

“Sweetheart, nobody would have known-“

“You don’t understand! If I just listened more, I would have known that was happening!” Tears appear in his eyes, recalling everything that happened, “The first day I met YN, she told me that she was dying and I wasn’t listening. I believed her when she said she would get better. She was getting sicker every day, and I didn’t see it. I was her friend! I was supposed to know! And last night! I was an idiot to believe she was getting nosebleeds like she said.”

Before Jungkook knew it, he wrapped his arms around his mother, releasing his tears onto her shoulder.

“She asked me to sing to her, Mom.” He whispered against her shoulder, “Last night, she asked me to sing to her. She said she couldn’t sleep, so I did. She was okay when I left the room.”

His mother hushes him and gently caresses the back of his head, comforting him. “I know, sweetheart, it’s okay. She’s going to be okay now.”

After some time, Jungkook stopped crying and started packing his stuff to go home. There was no reason for him to stay anymore, so there was no choice but to leave, and while clearing his drawer from the various sketches and drawings he had done while in the hospital, a page slipped from the pile and fell on the floor. He looks down to see the sketch of the butterfly he did while waiting for you in the garden. His eyes travel to the bottom right corner of the page, which has an excerpt of a poem he wrote sometime before being admitted to the hospital that he had named after the creature.

곁에 머��러줄래

내게 약속해줄래

손 대면 날아갈까 부서질까

겁나 겁나 겁나

시간을 멈출래

이 순간이 지나면

없었던 일이 될까 널 잃을까

겁나 겁나 겁나

The full poem was about wanting your loved ones to not succumb to their mental illness and having the fear of letting them go or else they’ll fly away like a butterfly. It also speaks about wanting to be able to stop time from passing and to hold on to each other forever. After reading the small part that he had written on the page, he can’t help but blame himself, feeling his eyes fill with tears once again. He shouldn’t have let go of your hand last night. If he hadn’t, maybe you’d have all the time in the world.

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bangtan #bts #bts jungkook #jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fic #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts au

[avatar-anna]

The Professor

summary: you and harry are perfect strangers

words: 3.5k

tw: none

PART III, PART V, PART IV, PART II, PART I Series Masterlist

June 2021

This summer, were trying something new.

Since school was out, you decided you needed to get out more. You’d seen less of Edward because he was getting busier and busier with his super secret project. He still texted and called, and since you were busy with school, helping the police department from time to time, filming your educational videos, and writing papers along with grading them, you didn’t mind not seeing him as much. You liked that you could go a few weeks without seeing each other and still remain close friends…or whatever you were. That was something both of you were okay with not discussing for the time being. 

In the past, you spent a lot of your summers indoors or around Cambridge, but this summer, you decided to branch out and explore. You read books and case files in cafes, you biked around town more, you even wanted to plan a road trip with Edward. Before, your summers, while enjoyable, were pretty monotonous. Maybe it was because the world was finally opening back up again, but you just had this itch to get out of your townhouse more. And take the Emperor with you, of course. 

It was a sunny afternoon in Cambridge, and you were sitting on a patio table of a cafe you started frequenting. They had all sorts of tea flavors and fun summery drinks you wanted to try. Something in you was pushing you to try new things, and instead of shying away from it, you embraced it. The sun was shining brightly, your paper was coming along splendidly, and the Emperor was basking in the sunlight inside the pram you bought for him. This summer was off to a beautiful start.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is Dr. Y/l/n outside and actually enjoying the sun?”

You immediately perked up at the sound of Edward’s voice, your lips curving up into a smile involuntarily. “What are you doing here?”

“To see you, of course,” he said from behind his mask. 

Edward was still standing, so you could see all of him. He, like you, was dressed for summer in corduroy shorts and an opened, button-down shirt made of a colorful patchwork of different fabrics. 

“Sit down!” you said, gesturing for the open seat across from you beside the Emperor. 

He did, petting your cat as he did so, who leaned into Edward’s touch. Seems you weren’t the only one who missed your friend.

“You’re in a particularly sunny mood today,” he said.

“I’m embracing life, Edward,” you said, slipping your straw beneath your face mask to take a sip of your coffee—some kind of rose latte that you didn’t love but felt like you needed to finish to be polite. “And I consulted on a case in New York, which was very fun. Well, not fun. Satisfying. You know, because I got to be a part of saving a life and stop someone from doing horrible things.”

Smiling, he said, “That’s great, Y/n. I’m really happy for you.”

He said it, but he didn’t sound happy. Admittedly, it was somber stuff, but you hadn’t gone into the explicit details, ones that you would never forget, you literally weren’t able to.

“Are you okay? You seem a little off.”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, but again, he wasn’t very convincing. “Listen, there’s something I wanted to—”

“So, I had this idea, but I wanted to run it by—Oh, sorry. Go ahead.”

“No, no. You first.”

Now that his eyes were on you, even if they were covered by dark sunglasses, you flushed with nerves. You’d never done something like this, and you thought you had more time to prepare and find the right words, but this summer was all about taking chances for you, so you swallowed your fear and just blurted it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

Edward’s eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t tell what it meant. “A date?”

“Yeah, you know, since things have been opening up more, and we’ve never actually seen the bottom of each other’s faces, I just thought now would be as good a time as any, right?”

When he didn’t answer right away, you started to panic. Did you read the last three months wrong? Edward told you he liked you, you held hands when you sat and talked in your townhouse, he was showing interest, right? You couldn’t be that oblivious, and you didn’t think you read the signs wrong. You checked. Your evidence backed up your inferences. This should’ve been seamless.

You were almost never wrong, but now you were worried you got everything completely wrong. “Unless…you don’t want to?”

Edward was quick to reassure you. “I do, you have no idea how much I do. I’m just…shocked by how forward you’re being.”

Leaning forward, you stage whispered, “It’s not too much, is it?”

Edward leaned forward too, and this time you could tell he was grinning. “No, not at all. I think it suits you.”

He couldn’t see it, but you were smiling beneath your mask. “Great. So? What do you say?”

You’d never been this forward before, but Edward made you feel confident. In your mind, you had nothing to lose.

“I’d love to,” he said, holding your hand across the table. “Now, what do you say to heading back to your place? I missed looking at constellations with you.”

Butterflies Edward had called them. They were going crazy in your stomach, but they didn’t freak you out. They just made you excited. You thought this new you suited you too.

----------------------------------------------------------

It was late, way past midnight, and he was still in your house. You weren’t quite sure where the time went, or how you managed to talk for that long, but there both of you were, sitting on your couch, neither of you making any kinds of moves to leave.

“If you weren’t a professor, what would you be doing?”

It took you a moment to think about that, to give him an answer that wouldn’t end in Edward lecturing you about taking care of yourself and putting yourself first.

“I don’t know, I think I was made for teaching and helping people. It’s what I’m good at.”

“But do you teach because you love it or because you’re good at it. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, Y/n.”

Edward worried about you a lot. Something you thought you would find irritating, but actually found endearing.

“I know, but for me it is,” you said, squeezing the hand that was holding yours. You realized he liked that. Small affectionate touches. You weren’t the affectionate type but you liked being that way for him. “I love helping people. For the first half of my life, I was stuck doing things for other people, and I hated it. I was good at math, I am good at math, but being forced to do it all day made me never want to look at or solve complicated theories ever again.

“This is the life I chose for myself. Sometimes I think that with this…gift, asset, whatever you want to call it, that I should be doing more, so I help the police department and I share my knowledge with others and hope that’s enough.”

You let out a breath, surprised you said so much. You knew it wasn’t physically possible, but you felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, like in that moment, you weren’t just talking to Edward, but to everyone who ever criticized your decision to leave solving unsolvable math and science problems behind to take up teaching.

“That felt good, didn’t it?” Edward said, like your answer was exactly what he wanted you to say.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re very smart, Edward. Not as smart as me of course, but—”

“But who is?” he finished for you.

You sat with him in comfortable silence, neither of you knowing what to say next, but not ready to say goodbye, either. This was the latest Edward had ever stayed over, and that fluttering was stirring in you. You’d never had anyone spend the night before, but you thought he would make a good first.

“I should probably go,” he said suddenly, as if he just realized it was nearing three in the morning.

Reminding yourself that this was the summer of embracing change and trying new things, you took a deep breath and said, “You don’t have to.”

“No?” 

“It’s late, and you must be tired. You can stay. If—If you want to, that is.”

You wondered if his heart was beating as fast as yours, or if his palms were starting to sweat. Maybe you’d read these last three months entirely wrong, maybe asking him to stay was a terrible idea, one you clearly didn’t think through. Your invitation for him to stay the night was exactly that: a place for him to sleep. But did Edward know that? What if he took your invitation as more? And neither of you obviously slept with a face covering, there was a chance you would see his face tonight.

You’d insisted on the face masks because you didn’t want to get yourself or Edward sick, but part of you also liked that you had to wear them. It was social distance as well as emotional distance, like keeping what you completely looked like a secret was the one thing that prevented you from fully opening up to him. Were you really ready for that?

“Y/n?”

So in your thoughts about Edward possibly staying the night, you forgot he hadn’t said yes or no yet. Blushing, you looked back over to him. “Yes?”

“I can see the gears turning in that beautiful brain of yours. You don’t have to be so stressed. If you don’t want me to stay, I won’t. It’s not a big deal.”

“I do!” you blurted, your face turning red at how quickly you corrected him. “I, um, I think it will be fun. But…I just don’t want you to think that it means that we’re having sex.”

The blunt delivery of your statement had him laughing, so much so that it calmed your nerves a bit. “I didn’t think that at all,” he said. Inching closer to you, he reached for your hand again, rubbing his thumb across the back. “So, got an extra toothbrush?”

----------------------------------------------------------

You were at home, laying on your floor and watching constellations, only it wasn’t with Edward. Your phone was clutched in your hands, your leg crossed over the other revealing colorful patterned socks peeking out beneath your ankle-length jeans. You needed to make a phone call, but you didn’t know what you were going to say. 

How were you going to tell him?

Thankfully, you got a phone call before you had to make that decision. It was the former student you employed to help edit your videos. “Hello?”

“When were you going to tell me you knew Harry Styles?”

The name sounded familiar, and you recalled one of your students mentioning it in one of their questions at the end of class once, but you didn’t know him. “I…I don’t?”

“Y/n, are you pulling my leg right now? It’s all over the Internet,” they said.

“What is?” you asked, more confused than ever.

“The pictures! You’re at a cafe and casually sitting with one of the most popular men in music. How the hell did you not know?”

Your mind was going into overdrive with all the new information you’d just received. “I—I need to—to go,” you said, hanging up without another word. 

The only time you really used the Internet was to look up scholarly journals or to search for a new recipe, but now you typed in the words, “Harry Styles,” when the search finished loading, your eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

You rarely cursed, but this instance was worthy of using expletives. Edward…Harry…whoever he said he was…was not who he claimed to be. He was famous, like really, really famous. He’d just won a Grammy, he had two albums, he was on the cover of Vogue, and he had a larger than life following. The man online was not the man you knew in person. He was charismatic and outgoing, he sang songs about sex, he was a more vibrant version of the person you’d come to know. Edward was soft spoken, but Harry was…some kind of rockstar.

You consumed everything you possibly could, your eyes scanning his Wikipedia page—he had a Wikipedia page!—in a minute. Singing contest shows, albums, awards, band breakups, world tours, you read everything. You knew more about him than you wanted to know. 

And you were there too. In a recent article by some tacky looking publication with obnoxious colors and loud titles that made your head hurt, there was a picture of you and Edward—Harry—sitting at the cafe last week. The pictures looked innocent enough, but the headlines claimed you were a secret lover, a possible affair.

An affair? You clicked on one of the linked articles on the website, hating yourself for reading something like this. Another picture popped up. He looked like he was at some wedding, holding hands with another woman.

You turned your phone off after that, not wanting anymore pictures or words forever ingrained in your mind. He was seeing someone. He had a…a person. Someone that meant something to him. Someone that wasn’t you.

It hurt, especially because you really thought he’d shown interest the last few months, but that was probably a lie too. He spent the night just last week! Sure, you didn’t do anything but sleep, but that was a big step. Apparently not. Just before you clicked out of the website, you saw that she was a director. Maybe he was only interested in people who led similar lives, and you certainly did not.

You felt silly all of a sudden. You tricked yourself into believing that someone actually cared for you. No one had ever shown interest in you outside of the knowledge you held, all the remarkable things you could remember. When you visited her for Spring Break, your mom went around telling people you were a human computer, getting people to ask you questions and see how quick you could respond. Like your students in class but not at all the same. You weren’t a person to be valued or cherished, you were an object of fascination. A circus freak that could do tricks on command.

You laid on the floor with your head pressed against the wood panels, heart pounding and mind spinning. Words flew around so fast they were unintelligible. Nothing made sense, and as someone who could make sense of everything, it was frustrating you. A headache quickly developed into a migraine, and you didn’t know what to do. Shutting your eyes wouldn’t change anything, would probably only make things worse. You read too much too fast, and now it was overwhelming you.

A knock on your front door temporarily distracted you. You stood up from your position on the ground, but every step towards your door was a painful one. Peeking through your peephole, your heart clenched, your stomach filled with dread. It was him.

You were in no way ready to face him, so you didn’t. “I—I’m not feeling well.”

“Aw, really?” he asked, sounding disappointed. “Well, let me in and I’ll take care of you.”

He sounded so sweet and so sincere that you almost let him in, but you stopped yourself. “I haven’t gotten tested yet. I’ll—I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Let me in, Y/n. If you’re not feeling well, I want to help.”

His kindness made you angry all of a sudden. With everything swirling around and your migraine, you blurted, “I don’t want to see you right now, Harry.”

It was his name, but it didn’t sound right on your tongue. He seemed to recognize it, though. With both of you so close to the door, you heard the soft thud of his forehead leaning against it as he quietly muttered, “Fuck.”

“You lied to me,” you said, trying to hide the quiver in your voice. “Why would you lie to me?”

“I—I didn’t lie, I—”

“Don’t give me that omission bullshit! You didn’t even tell me your real name!”

You remembered the first time he’d come over to your house. The two of you were so engrossed in your conversation that you didn’t even realize you hadn’t shared each other’s names until he was about to leave. He told you his name was Edward, and you didn’t question it. Why would you?

“I can’t believe this,” you said. “I—We talked about you being a murderer, and I laughed it off when you could’ve actually been one. I’m such an idiot! I actually—I actually trusted you!”

“You can trust me. Please just—Please let me in, and I can explain everything. Just please let me in.”

He sounded desperate, but he wasn’t getting it. You did let him in. He knew you more than any other person you knew, but you clearly didn’t know him. You had a hard time trusting people, it was why you didn’t have many friends or colleagues or a long romantic history. Trust was something you had a hard time handing to people, but somehow he managed it, and he took it and stomped on it, crushed it in his hands like a piece of paper. You couldn’t trust him. He lied to you about who he was for months and didn’t try to tell you the truth. Not once.

“I know about the woman you’re seeing. The director,” you said suddenly You had never spoken so venomously before, and you hated it. You hated how all of this was making you feel. “I asked you out because I liked you and you managed to convince me that you liked me too, but—but you ruined it. I learned so much about you in minutes, and I can’t forget it. I wish I could forget meeting you, but I will never be able to.

“I can win a chess game in two moves, I could solve some of the most complex physics equations before you probably even knew what algebra was, I know four current languages and two dead languages, I’ve read the Bible cover to cover multiple times, I came close to solving the three body problem. I bet you don’t even know what that is!

“I’m an expert in multiple fields of psychology, so imagine my surprise when I found out you weren’t who you said you were. Not once did I suspect anything,” you said, surprised that all of that came bursting out of you.

“I am. Y/n, please open the door,” he pleaded. He sounded like he was crying, which made a couple tears slip down your cheeks. 

You steeled your nerves, feeling like each one of those butterflies he made you feel died and floated to the bottom of your stomach. “I’m glad I found out now and not while I was still teaching, I can’t imagine how badly my students would make fun of me for being so clueless.”

Hearing the calmness in your voice, you heard him grow frantic on the other side of the door. “It’s not your fault, Y/n, I was just trying to—”

“You’re right. It’s not my fault,” you said. “I don’t like to believe in coincidences or chance, but maybe there’s a hint of it here.” You paused, finding the strength to get the words out. You hadn’t thought it through, and perhaps you were being too rash or emotional, but you said it anyway. “I was offered a job today. In New York. I was going to call you and tell you about it, maybe celebrate even if I was planning on turning it down, but then I got a different phone call first, and I found out about you, and…

“I’m going to take the job, and I—I don’t want to see you before I leave.”

“Okay, I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be, but I am begging you not to go anywhere before I can explain. There’s so much that I want—that I need to say. Y/n please.”

You were done fighting. Mostly because your migraine was becoming too much and you were still processing the overload of information, but also because you couldn’t handle talking to the person on the other side of your door anymore. 

“Just go,” you said, more tired than you’d ever felt before. “I can’t—I can’t let you do this to me.”

Your mind, which was normally sharp and organized, was currently in shambles. You'd never felt this lost before. You could always rely on your instinct and your knowledge, but it was failing you, and that was something you couldn't handle.

“Please. Please. Open the door, Y/n. Please let me in. Please, I’ll explain everything. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

Taking your cat, you left him at the front door, still knocking and begging you to let him explain, but you didn’t want an explanation. None of it would change the fact that he lied for months, with no plans to stop.

You don’t know when he left, or how long he knocked on the door. If he left of his own volition or if your neighbors grew tired of the noise. You just didn’t care to know. As you rested on your bed and hid from everything you learned the best you could, you just…didn’t care anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @remuslupinwifee @majasophieanna @michellekstyles @wolwolsighs @harrystylesrecs @cwiphswmwasohmm @his-only-angel-1989

#harry styles #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot

[verybadatwriting]

Blood and Marrow

Summary: Reader is the child of a hard-working single mother and a long-forgotten one night stand. One day the consequences of their father's identity catches up to the Reader

Warnings: Imprisonment, needles, improper conditions for prisoners, bone marrow stealing, surgery without anesthetic, torture essentially, kidnapping, in-world curse word, parental death, iv’s

Notes: It’s a little slow to get started, but whatever.

Gn!reader, Fett!reader

Word count: 4031

The whispering streets sped by as the train picked up speed. Another day was done, you and your mother were finally on your way home. Even though today wasn’t the longest she’d ever had to stay at work, it sure felt like it. All but two cooks and half the servers got food poisoning, so you had to help out. Normally you got to sit in the corner and do your schoolwork, instead you were ferrying meals and dishes back and forth between the kitchen and customers. 

Your mom had been working here since before you were born, so it was like a second home to you. A dirty, noisy home, full of strangers, but a home nonetheless. When you were a baby your mom would park you in a corner with some toys and just keep half an eye on you while she worked. 

That corner became your spot, permanently. Everyone knew not to seat customers there, except on the days you worked. Today it was occupied by an elderly Mon Calamari couple. They ordered crab-stuffed cream puffs, and complained that they had too much crab, and not enough stuffing. You tried explaining that it’s stuffed with crab, so the crab is the stuffing, but they were firm. 

Eventually you just took the puffs back to the kitchen, waited a few minutes, and came back out with the same plate. This time they were “absolutely perfect” and they asked why “You didn’t make them like this the first time?”

Putting on your best customer service face you simply smiled and told them to enjoy their meal. 

“What I really wanted to tell them,” You said to your mom, “Was that they looked like a bunch of shriveled up–”

“Alright!” She interrupted sternly, “That’s quite enough.” She tried giving you her signature ‘mom-glare’ but you could see a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

The train ground to a halt at stop G17, and you disembarked. This was the worst part of the commute; strolling through the slums. Ever since you were little you had hated your neighborhood. The neon lights and bottles strewn about, the clusters of people who never seemed to disperse or do anything other than stand around. 

About two years ago things got really bad after a rough batch of layoffs, and the standing around turned to rioting. Rioting turned to looting, which turned to robberies. You and your mother hid in the bathroom as men ransacked your apartment. Crashes rattled the ground as they tossed through dressers and drawers looking for valuables.

They were about to open the bathroom door when an authoritative voice ordered them to put their hands up. Obviously they didn’t obey, and the sounds of fighting erupted. An electric zapping sound buzzed and the robbers thunked to the ground.

“Apartment building 5C clear.” The man said. 

“Wait– scratch that.” Said another, identical voice. “One room left.” The door slowly opened, and the man pointed a flashlight inside. He didn’t wear the uniform of the Coruscant Underworld Police, instead his armor was mostly white with red accents. He lowered his stun baton when the light passed over the scared forms of you and your mother. 

“Now apartment building 5C is clear.” He said into his com, then to your mother, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” She said, “We’re fine.”

“Thorn,” The other trooper called into the bathroom. “We’ve gotta get moving. Stone needs help with the riots to the west. Latest reports say three dead.”

The troopers arrested the robbers and quickly left, leaving you and your mom alone in your completely trashed apartment. It took hours to clean it all up. Even longer to even start to feel safe again.

Now, as you finally slid off your shoes and settled down on your bed, you felt a little safe. The doors were locked and bolted. In the past two years nobody else broke in, and things were calm enough. 

“Try to catch some sleep, Y/n,” Your mom poked her head into your room. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, “I’ve just gotta finish up some homework. I promise I’ll be in bed by one.”

“That’s my kid.” Your mom went to the joint living/dining room and spread a blanket on the couch. She laid there, and you listened to her breathing slowly steady as she drifted off to sleep. 

Your blinks got longer and longer until you set aside the work and stilus to finally sleep. Just like you promised, it was a few minutes before one. What felt like a moment later, you woke up with a start. 

At first, you couldn’t tell what woke you, but then you heard footsteps clanking in the living room. They stopped again, and you heard a brief, muffled yell from your mother. The clanking started again, and seconds later, a tall metallic figure stood in your doorway. It approached, and pressed a cloth over your mouth and nose. The world went fuzzy and then dark as you clawed at the metal arm.

Some time later, you’re not quite sure how long, you woke up with a splitting headache. You tried to rub your eyes, but found your arms were immobile. The room spun around as you reoriented yourself. At first you thought you were lying on your back, but in reality you were hanging from the ceiling by two shackles on your wrists. Your feet barely brushed the floor, so all your weight was pulling down on your arms.

Your eyes slowly acclimated to the darkness around you. The walls were slick durasteel. The floor was metal as well, but slightly slanted towards a small, round drain in the center. Layers of old, dried crud that no one had bothered to clean up streaked toward it.

As you just hung there, breathing heavily because of a stabbing pain in your sternum. You also had a stabbing, unending pain in your head. Before all of this had time to fully register, the door slid open, a blinding light was turned on, and a Skakoan man entered. His dark blue robes draped loosely from his hissing pressure suit. Tubes reached from his neck plate to the upper chest plate, which featured nozzles and ports. The metal caught the light and glinted.

Closely after him, a 2-1B surgical droid followed. The shiny metal of its body was all straight lines and perfect curves. The ends of its arms were equipped with tools; tools you couldn't even imagine the purpose of. Its lifeless, glowing eyes stared through you. 

“Shall we begin, Emir Tambor?” It asked, holding up a container.

“Of course.” 

Tambor took the box from the droid, opened it, and removed a long, sharp needle. There was a clear collection area at the base. He sterilized the instrument. The droid, meanwhile, was approaching you. It was holding a bottle of disinfectant, which it sprayed onto your right hip after moving aside the clothing that was in the way. Your skin rose with goosebumps at the cold. 

The Skakoan approached, holding a scalpel. Slowly it was pressed into your side, through layers of skin, then muscle. Then it held back the layers of muscle while Tambor raised a drill and pushed it through the exterior of your bone. Your chest tightened in pain. You bit your tongue. You tasted blood in your mouth from biting too hard, while more trickled down your leg.

“Syringe.” Tambor said as he removed the drill and held out his gloved hand to the droid. It glinted against the harsh light as it passed between them. It plunged into the freshly-drilled hole in your bone and into the squishy marrow. The container at the end slowly filled with a dark red liquid. Darker than blood. 

“Suture,” The droid said, holding out a tool to the Skakoan scientist.

“You deal with that. I have what I need; 18.44 precious ounces of bone marrow.” Tambor started towards the door, cradling the container like it was worth more than a hundred kyber crystals. The door slid closed behind him, leaving only you and the dead-eyed droid. 

Finally, you allowed a sob to rip through your chest. Your chest heaved as you drew a shuddering breath, then devolved back into tears. The sound echoed off the shadowy walls. When Tambor left, the overhead lights turned off automatically, plunging the room into near complete darkness. Only the droid’s glowing eyes provided light. Even then, they were fixed at patching up the mess that was your hip.

“It would assist me if you could stay still,” It said.

For the next few minutes you tried to think of anything else than the metal digits nimbly stitching up your flesh. Where were you? Why are they doing this? Who is ‘they’? Did they kidnap your mom, too?

The thought of your mom hanging from her wrists in some dark cell, just as you were, was enough to make you cry again. The droid whirred disapprovingly. You stifled them as best you could. 

It was almost over. The droid just had to finish stitching together the final layer of muscle, and apply a bacta patch. It never got the chance, because the door blew open, and a few clone troopers marched in, guns blazing. They shot down the surgery droid the moment they saw it. Behind them, you saw a half dozen more blue -armored soldiers in the hall.

“This one’s alive,” called out the one nearest to you, “Kix, get over here!”

“Can you hear me?” The medic asked, opening his kit. 

You nodded.

“This is gonna sting a little,” He said, pressing a bacta patch over your still bleeding hip. The sting was the least of your worries. Even that slight amount of pressure was enough to make you gasp in pain.

“You’re okay,” Kix said reassuringly to you, then he barked at his brothers to unfasten the chains holding you up. Almost immediately, they snapped the right chain and all your weight swung onto the other arm. Kix clone put his arm under your shoulders, and held you up while one of his brothers worked at undoing the second manacle. 

“Can you walk?” Kix asked once his brother had freed you. You tried putting a little weight on your leg, but couldn’t manage it. Your other leg nearly buckled, and only Kix’s arm kept you standing.

“No.” You hissed through clenched teeth. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He said, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n,” You answered.

“We’re going to take you to our ship, Y/n,” He said, “You’ll be on the first flight out of here.” 

“Mhmm.” You said, the blood loss making you a bit woozy. Your head lolled to the side, and rested against Kix’s shoulder.

“Kix,” one of the soldiers said. His helmet had a blue downwards-pointing arrow, and a smaller red triangle above that. His armor was battered, just like the rest of them. The paint was worn away in places. 

“This area still isn’t secured. They’ll have to wait to be evacuated.”

“They can’t wait,” Kix replied, “Look at that, Dogma” he pointed to a puddle of your blood on the floor, “Look at it. They’ve lost too much blood already. We’re getting them out, now.”

After a moment of thoughtfully looking at the blood he nodded and said, “We’ll cover you.” Then he spoke into his comm, “Civilian evac needed. Be ready to provide cover fire.”

“Hear that?” Kix asked you. “We’ll get you out of here.”

“Hardcase, and Dogma, on my mark,” came a voice over the comms a moment later. “Three… Two… One!”

Dogma leaned out of the door and chucked a grenade up the hallway, and at the same time, another clone did the same thing from a room across the hall. They both ducked back inside, and covered their ears as two small explosions shook the walls. 

One soldier with pale blue stripes on his armor jumped out into the corridor with a 6-Z rotary cannon and started firing massive sprays of blaster bolts towards the droids. At the same time, Kix shifted to carry most of your weight, and started running towards the turbolift at the opposite end of the hall. 

The whole escape was a bit of a blur. The hallway was one long, straight passage from the room you were being held in to the lift. Unfortunately, that meant there was barely any cover. Even with the clones mowing down rows of droids, a few bolts still sailed down the hall towards you. It was so loud.

But the noise stopped suddenly once you saw into one of the other rooms. Everything stopped. The world stopped. Maybe even the whole galaxy. 

In that room, one identical to the one you had been held in, hung a woman. Her wrists were bound in chains, her head hung limply. Her clothes were bloodsoaked. Worst of all, she was absolutely still.

Nothing – not the pain in your leg, not the slicing scalpel tearing flesh, not the needle siphoning marrow – no, nothing could ever come close to the pain of seeing her like that, and knowing she was gone.

You felt Kix tug you forward, ripping you back to reality where everything was moving and there was no time to mourn. Before you knew it, the two of you were in the elevator. The smooth doors slid closed, drowning out the sounds of battle.

Through the curved window, you could see you were on an asteroid. The rocky barren landscape was littered with ships, troops, and the flashes of blaster fire. It looked like the Republic was taking the whole place.

“We’re almost there,” Kix said softly. “In the transport there’s an IM-6 medical droid that will take good care of you. You’re gonna be okay, kid.”

Finally, you reached the roof. Three low-altitude transports awaited you. You rushed to the closest one, Kix pulled down an emergency cot at the back, and set you down. He had to go back to the fight, but he dosed you with something first. It made the world fuzzy. Your pain dulled.

You barely even registered the little floating droid working diligently on your leg and your chest. Kix came back twice, both times half-carrying one of his wounded brothers. He set up the other two cots for them as the droid floated over to assist.

Not too long later, the transport started to fill up with soldiers. They were tired, but not completely exhausted. They quietly cracked jokes to one another, despite injuries.

The doors slid closed, the ship started rumbling, then flying. 

Kix stood in the back, near the cots, to assess his brothers. Once they were situated, he squatted down next to you.

“It’s been a little while,” He said, quietly. “How’re you holding up?”

“It still hurts,” You said, “But the meds help.”

“Good,” He nodded. “Is there someone you want us to contact, tell them you’re alright?”

You gained a faraway stare and paused as your eyes welled up.  

“Were there any other survivors?” You asked, dreading the answer.

“There were not.”

“No, then,” You said, voice perilously close to cracking. “I only ever had my mom, and as of today, she’s dead.” 

You reached up and wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Where do you live?”

“Coruscant,” You said. “But I don't have anywhere to go. I’ll be put in foster care till I age out, then I’ll just be dumped on the street.”

“It’ll be okay,” Kix said. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now.” He looked at the datapad clipped to the side of your cot. His eyebrows wrinkled. 

“Are you having trouble breathing?” He asked.

“A little. Why?” 

“Your respiratory muscles are working harder than expected. I’m going to give you something to help them relax.”

He pushed a small dose of a clear liquid through your IV and almost immediately you felt your muscles relax from head to toe. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” He said. You found you couldn’t keep your eyes open, so you slept.

You awoke when the transport landed in the hangar of a much larger ship. The able-bodied clones hopped out quickly, and were soon absorbed by the throngs of people all fixing, refueling, and disembarking from ships. 

The two injured clones were transferred onto stretchers. As they floated by, you saw one was missing the lower chunk of his leg. The other clone was only half unconscious. His chest plate was battered with blaster burns, and as he drifted past, you smelled the unmistakable scent of burning flesh. 

Kix scooped you up, and set you down on a hoverchair. Almost immediately you felt more awake. On the journey to the medbay, you watched others that followed the same route as you. Most injuries weren’t that bad. The general mood was celebratory, even in the medbay.

“I’m gonna help you into a bed,” Kix said, “But then I have to go help my brothers. I won’t be far.” 

Once more he lifted you gently, making sure not to put pressure on your hip, and laid you down in the bed. You watched as Kix went from bed to bed bandaging and comforting the injured. 

Slowly, everything settled down. One by one the patched up clones were sent on their way, and the medbay was calm. There was still work to do, but the medics were no longer running from one task to the next, instead they took inventories of what materials were needed, and updated medical logs. 

It was then that your trouble breathing got much, much worse. Despite trying your hardest, very little air moved in or out of your lungs. Pain coursed through your chest as your muscles tried to pull in what little breath they could. You coughed, hoping that would help. 

All that did was bring the taste of blood to your tongue. You sat up. A drop fell from your mouth and onto the pristine white sheets. 

Kix turned at the sound of your cough. He set down the data-pad and rushed over when he saw you sit up and spit blood. 

“You’re okay,” He said, placing a stethoscope on your back, “Keep coughing.” He turned to another medic and said, “We’re gonna need a needle, tubing, and a container.” 

He grabbed the bedside table.

“Lean on this,” Kix said, pulling it closer. You turned, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs hanging off, and you braced your forearms on top of it, still coughing and trying to clear your lungs.

The medic returned quickly, all the necessary supplies in his arms.

“You’re gonna feel a sharp prick on your back, just below your ribs,” Kix said, picking up the syringe and securing the tubing on one end. “On three, ready?”

You nodded.

“One, two,” He pushed the needle through skin, muscle, and finally lung. It was uncomfortable and caught you off guard, but immediately the pressure started to decrease. A moment or two later, you could breathe with not too much difficulty.

Kix arranged everything so that you could sit up against the pillows.

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked.

“There is fluid leaking into your lungs,” Kix said, “I’m not exactly sure what it is; there’s at least some blood in it.”

“What caused it?”

“I’m guessing they weren’t too careful when extracting bone marrow from the sternum, and somehow nicked your lung. We can keep draining it, but we’ll have to fix the puncture at some point. We’ll probably use the drainage tube to access it…” 

You kept listening as he worked on possible solutions. The events of the past few hours suddenly washed over you, and your eyes once again drooped closed. 

When you woke up, there was no longer a bag attached to your side. Where the tube had been, there was just a simple bacta patch. 

The medbay staff had changed. They looked less tired. Kix was in the corner, near the door, talking with a blonde trooper. When they noticed you were awake, they came over.

You’d seen the other trooper before. He held his helmet under one arm, the jaig eyes peering out at you. 

“Y/n,” Kix said, pulling up a chair next to your bed, “This is Captain Rex. He leads the 501st.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, “The ones that got me outta there.” 

“Kix was just sharing that you’re healing well,” Rex said.

“I definitely feel way better, now that I’m not coughing up blood and struggling to breathe,” You said.

“I am very thankful we fixed that,” Kix nodded, then another medic called him over.

“Excuse me,” He said, then walked to the other end of the medbay. 

Rex was quiet, as though he didn’t really know what to say.

“Anyway,” he finally said, “I’m here to see if you have any information that might help us.”

“Uh… I don’t really know much.”

“That’s fine, just tell me what happened.”

“Well, they kidnapped us from my mom’s apartment on Coruscant. Some droids drugged us and we must’ve been out for at least a few hours, since when I woke up in that cell, they had already taken bone marrow from my chest. I hung there for a bit, then they took marrow from my hip, and that’s when y’all showed up.” 

“Can you think of any reason that the Separatists would want to target you or your family?”

“Nope. Mom and I aren’t politically active or important. Truth be told, I haven't the foggiest who my father was.”

You talked for a bit longer, and just as Rex was standing up, Kix came back. His eyes were fixed on the datapad held in his hands. His forehead was deeply creased; his expression the epitome of concern.

“Wait one moment, Captain,” He said. “This… this is bad.”

“What is it?” You and Rex both asked.

“The team on the ground just finished uploading their reports on the equipment. It’s for advanced genetic sequencing. They were working to reconstruct Jango Fett’s DNA.”

“What were they even working from?” Rex asked, eyebrows scrunching together.

“They spliced together DNA from one of Fett’s children, their mother, and one of our brothers.” 

“Jango didn’t have any children.” Rex said, then asked, “Right?”

“That’s what I thought, before I found this lab, at least” Kix shook his head, then turned towards you, “Y/n, I ran a paternity test on you. You are Jango Fett’s child.”

“Okay?” You said. “I have, like, zero clue what that means.”

“Have you told the general yet?” Rex asked Kix, completely ignoring your confusion.

“I’m on my way to do just that.” 

With that, Kix left, clutching his datapad. 

A few weeks later, you had fully healed.

Going through your old apartment was difficult. You only found a few things worth keeping. Most held too many painful memories. Nothing of value was left, since after people figured out it was empty, it was seen as an easy target. 

Sifting through the piles of overturned mess was too hard, so you didn’t. Instead, you picked up a few things. A necklace. A hologram of you and your mom, both beaming at whoever took it. 

You snapped it closed, and pushed yourself to your feet. You took in your ransacked apartment one last time. It reminded you of the last time this happened, two years ago. The only difference now, is that you had a place to go. 

“You ready?” Came a voice from the doorway. 

“Yup.” You said, voice wavering, but not breaking. “Let’s go, Kix.”

Word spread fast that you were Jango’s child. The troopers of the 501st took you under their wings. Kix trained you in the medical field, and Rex taught you to shoot.

They set you up with a bunk and a drawer, which was all you needed. Sleeping in the same room as countless clones was calming. Their rhythmic breathing lulled you into a feeling of safety.

Over a late night of swapping stories, you learned that Jango had another child. A boy named Boba. 

You knew you had to find him. All you had to do first was track him down.

#star wars #tcw #writing #marvel #clone wars #the clone wars #star wars clone wars #x reader #gn!reader #rex x reader #rex x teen!reader #kix x reader #kix x teen!reader #teen!reader #clone trooper kix #clone medic kix #medic kix x reader #medic kix x teen!reader

[sushis-wild-imagination]

One Call Away (Seungcheol x reader)

Summary: Y/n is sick and cheol, her best friend, is always only a call away.

Part of Over a Decade Series Seventeen Masterlist <3 -----

Seungcheol was getting ready to go on his date with Ji-ah when he got a call. He was fiddling with the button on his sleeve when his phone rang. 

When he picked up the call, it was your voice, barely audible, sounding tired and sick. 

“Yah, are you okay?” 

”I’m not, this fever won’t go down” 

Seungcheol rushed to your apartment under his right after he could cut the call. He knew the passcode to your flat like you did to his. He just walked in.

“Yah, y/n, are you alive?” He jokes walking into your bedroom.

You were horribly sick, the color drained from your face. 

“You look like a corpse” he says sitting next to you on the bed. He tries to sit you up but your body was limp, you had no energy and felt very warm to touch. 

“You’re burning up” he spots a thermometer next to your bed on the night stand and quickly grabs it to check your temperature while resting you on his chest so you don’t fall back down. 

“I’ve been like this all day” you somehow blurt out. Your body was hurting, you just wanted to pass out. 

“Let’s get you to a hospital” he was worried, he really didn’t know if it was just a fever or something more serious. 

He ran around the house to stuff some snacks, a water bottle and a hoodie in a backpack. He spots an old hoodie of his that you stole for himself if it gets cold. He somehow holds you up against him taking you to the elevator and helps you get you into his car. You were leaning on him, you had no energy to even sit up right by yourself. He puts on the seatbelt and fixes your seat to lean back so you’re comfortable.

He was constantly rubbing your arm to keep you warm while he drove. 

“Do you need a hoodie?” He asks but doesn’t wait for you to respond. Instead just digs in the backpack he packed for you and puts the hoodie on you at a red light. 

There was nothing else on his mind. He needed to know you’re okay. 

“Are you awake? Are you feeling okay” he asks touching your forehead again to check how warm you were. 

All you could say is a ‘hmm’ 

When you reach the hospital, they put you on an IV and a paracetamol. His hand never left yours. He was really freaked out by all this. They still didn’t know what caused the fever. 

He was now bent on the side of your bed with his head on the bed, getting tired and sleepy, one hand holding yours tightly, while you sleep. 

Seungcheol rang his mom first, his mom was always his go to when he felt freaked out. 

“I’m at the hospital” 

“Why why why? Are you hurt?” His mom’s concerned voice says over the phone. 

“I’m okay, it’s y/n, she’s sick, the doctors haven’t told me what's wrong yet, I’m getting nervous” 

“Is it a fever?”

“Yeah, she has been like this all day, I don’t even know what meds she took to tell the doctor”

“They’ll figure it out, trust the doctors, she’ll be okay, fevers are normal, the weather must be changing there too, these things effect your body” his mother rationalizes. You always need someone to knock these facts into you when you’re freaking out. Talking to his mom really helped him. 

He hung up and sighed. He looked up at you to check if you were awake. By the time the doctor had come in. 

“Miss. L/n is alright, it was just a really high fever, we do suspect dengue,we’ll just get a blood test done to make sure its not” the doctor explains and cheol nods.

“Thank you” 

“Do you happen to know what meds she took before getting here?”

“I don’t Doctor, I will let you know if I find out”

“Very well” 

Cheol immediately called Dokyeom, your co-worker and one of your work friends. 

“Yes hyung”

“Did y/n take some meds at work today? She has had a fever all day, and she said she took some meds at work before she left, do you know what they were?” Seungcheol asks Dokyeom in a rush. 

“Ah, right, yes she did, she had a horrid fever, I practically had to push her out of the building to go back home” 

“What did she take?” 

“The meds in the first aid kit at the office so I’m guessing a paracetamol” 

“Okay, thanks” 

“Is she doing okay? You sound stressed” 

“Im at the hospital with her right now the fever hasn’t broken” 

“Do you need me to come by?” 

“No, it's alright, we’re okay, its late” 

“What did the doctor say?” 

“They're running a few tests” he responded and also checked her body putting the back of his hand on your neck. He sighed in relief, the fever broke. 

“Okay, let me know if you need help hyung, I’ll come by” 

“Yes, I will,” he says. 

“Ah, one more thing, I don’t think she’ll come into work, can you inform them? Im not sure of the process at your work so just letting you know instead” he says remembering right on time. 

Cheol was relieved your fever finally broke. 

A nurse came by and stuck a needle in you to draw blood, you were asleep and probably didn’t even feel it but Cheol’s grip on your free hand tightened.

He hears your phone ring, it was your mother this time. Cheols mother possibly told her too. 

Before he could even say hello, her mother started speaking. 

“Is she okay? I heard you’re at the hospital?” 

“We are, she’s alright mother, they’re running a few tests, I think we’ll get to go home in the morning” 

“That’s a relief, should I come visit for a few days?” she asks over the phone clearly worried for her only daughter. 

“No, no it's not that serious, I just spoke to the doctors, she’ll be alright by the morning” 

“Thank you for taking care of her” 

“I know she would do the same for me” he deflects your mother’s thanks politely.

“Get her to talk to me once she’s okay” she says and both of them say goodbyes and hang up. 

He notices a notification from a certain guy with a message that said goodnight with a heart emoji. His heart sunk. His mind was cloud with thoughts of if you’re seeing someone. 

Shit. 

Ji-ah. 

He had completely forgotten about his girlfriend. She was going to be so pissed. They had plans of going to a restaurant to celebrate their 100th day. 

Seungcheol exhales loudly, rubbing his face. He decided he’ll just deal with it tomorrow. He was too tired to justify himself. He was getting sleepy, he just put his head down on the bed to get a power nap. It was going to kill his back when he woke up but there was no other option. All this while still subconsciously holding your hand. 

A few hours later your eyes flutter open, you had passed out, the last thing you remember was Seungcheol getting you out of a car. You felt a lot better now though. Your energy was almost back. 

You see him slouched over on the bed and your hands feel sweaty.

You realize he has had a death grip on your hand. You pat his head with your free hand. 

“Cheol,” you call softly trying not to startle him. 

“Hmm” he wakes up with a jerk almost immediately. 

His swollen face makes you smile. 

“Are you feeling better?” he says sitting up and immediately hissing. His sleeping posture really screwed up his back. 

“I am” you nod. “Thanks for bringing me here” 

“You would’ve done the same for me plus I’m only a call away” he smiles back. 

“Is that my hoodie?” you ask. 

“No, its MY hoodie, the one you stole from me”

#svt #svt fanfic #svt seungcheol #svt scenarios #seventeen #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #scoups #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #caratland #carat #carats #idol!reader #idol x reader #svt dad #scoups dad #scoups fluff #choi seungcheol

[neonsbian]

hi vinnie <3 since you’re like my resident writing oomf i gotta ask: do you have any tips on motivating & inspiring yourself to write and get through a writer’s block? seeing you post about your writing is so inspiring but i’ve been struggling for months now rip </3

hmmm tbh i dont rlly have a good answer for you other than teach yourself self-discipline. ive been writing for almost a decade (crazy to think abt lol) and in that time ive basically had to teach myself to commit to writing.

writing is just like any other artform, it's a skill that you build gradually by practicing consistently. the best way to do this is to come up with a goal in your mind and actually work towards this. i don't mean like, deciding you want to write a novel and just writing right away (though that does work for some people) but building steps to slowly achieve that goal.

let's say you want to write a novel. great! the first thing i would do is find time in my schedule to write. a lot of people assume that means sitting down for hours at a time and just typing away but finding time to do that in todays society isnt easy and personally, it's more effective for me to find gaps and short moments to just write for a bit. for me, the most writing gets done when im constrained for time. and you don't have to do it all at once! you can write a little bit at different points of the day too.

i also plan what im going to write before i write it. this doesn't mean i outline necessarily (i don't do that until the second draft) but before writing a scene, ill have a vague idea of what i want to happen in that scene. sometimes it changes as im writing but i never go into writing without a vague idea of what's going to happen.

i think setting a daily goal for yourself is really important. i know writing everyday seems kinda daunting, especially if you didnt do that before but like i said, writing is a skill you build gradually by practicing consistently and you have to be consistent. your daily goal can be a certain page count, word count, or chapter count. whatever works for you. i personally don't rlly like using quantifiable units as my daily goal bc that makes me like check the word count obsessively and prefer to use story markers as my goal instead. basically, i decide before writing i want to reach a certain point in the story by the end of the day. sometimes im in over my head and have to adjust, but it's more useful to think abt it that way for me.

also, if you're just starting out, i would make my daily goal relatively simple and easy to achieve. if word count is how you're counting it, then i'd set it to like 500 words. you might feel frustrated with how slow your progress is but it's more effective to slowly build a story than to write a huge chunk in a short amount of time and then never touch it again. and even if the progress is slow, at least progress is happening!

i know a lot of people have said this but you're also gonna have to allow yourself to write badly. i feel like this something that's difficult to implement into your mindset but it's essential to teach yourself this or else you'll never get anything done. shitty writing doesn't mean you're a shitty writer, it just means that your writing needs more work and the only way to achieve that is by working on it consistently.

i also personally think it's helpful to read the writing processes of other writers and try doing them yourself. lauren groff, for example, writes her entire second draft from memory which sounded absolutely insane to me but i tried it for one of my short stories. that method didn't really work for me but from her method helped me improve my own system. basically for scenes that were in the first draft but were going to be changed pretty drastically, i don't open my first draft at all and just write the scene. every writer's process is different and what works for one writer isn't always going to work for you, but it's still worth a shot to try it and one way or another, it'll help you understand yourself as a writer better.

to me, writing is self-discipline as much as it's art and building a system that works for you is going to take some time but it's necessary to achieve what you're hoping to achieve.

this ended up being longer than i expected but tldr: set a goal, do it everyday 👍

#and even tho i consider myself a disciplined person i do have my undisciplined moments #so not being able to write one day for whatever reason doesnt mean ur a fail writer #progress isnt linear and achieving it is a long and slow road and sometimes theres gonna be bumps you just have to accept that #i hope this was helpful for you lmao #asks

[night-dark-woods]

hi everyone please wish me luck not slaughtering my egotistical manchild coworkers who have repeatedly lied to my fucking face please. thank you.

events under the cut bc my complaining got so long.

- i am the inventory coordinator. it is my literal formal job title. i count the inventory i shoot the outs i handle item replacements when something is discontinued, price changes, defectives/thefts, and product resets.

- this role does not actually give me the authority to scold people it just makes it my responsibility to fix. i get my job done by doing an elaborate dance of staying on everyone's good side like a spy going through bank vault lasers.

- gay republican dickhead hardware manager (i am one of two people who has an even marginally good working relationship with him. but he will never be fired bc the store owner likes him) has decided that im not doing outs as frequently as he wants (it was holiday season. and i had covid. and also no one recovers their fucking sections so a 7 section aisle takes me an hour bc the old hardware men are too busy talking about how back in their day domestic abuse was fine to front and face).

- he decided a month ago to delegate this to the guy who has literally had his product ordering privileges revoked for ordering five THOUSAND key rings and FIFTEEN HUNDRED YARDSTICKS. because he doesnt understand order multiples.

- we had an argument about it bc i have CHECKED this man's work before and literally half of them were wrong, and i asked him POLITELY not to fucking count. he has tried to zero the same item that people love to take off the hook and leave sitting on the shelf below it. SIX TIMES. in the last few months. SIX. TIMES. it has been SITTING on the SHELF in FULL VIEW. and he has tried to zero it.

- i thought this was settled, because Gay Republican has been checking in with me before counting stuff.

- today i came in and Incompetent Guy had some stuff in the counting program (unfinalized). i was like okay fine whatever. ill check on it before i finalize what i have to do. and then i went to do it and his stuff was gone! and i was like huh. hey Gay Republican did you finalize it? and he was like no. and i was like huh. so i check the record and Incompetent Guy finalized it HIMSELF.

- this retroactively makes sense of all the times he's Skedaddled avoiding eye contact away from the computer when i come over to do smth, like a dog with something in its mouth it knows it shouldnt have.

- i lose my shit in the back to a different coworker and also text the gm about how to pull his permissions, he definitely overhears me. i also complain to store manager.

- i figure out how to pull permissions and do it.

- Incompetent Guy (who has been avoiding me) walks by me an hour later and then makes a joke to Gay Republican about how he's "going to have to start taking notes again."

FUCKING. MAYBE DONT GO BEHIND MY BACK TRYING TO DO MY JOB WHEN YOU CANT DO IT AND IVE EXPLICITLY ASKED YOU NOT TO!!!

if youre WORRIED im not on top of it. or you WANT me to delegate. FUCKING TELL ME LIKE A CIVIL ADULT. dont go behind my FUCKING BACK like a CHILD.

because this ALL ENDS UP MY PROBLEM TO FUCKING FIX IN THE END. and if you just LET ME DO MY LITERAL JOB. AND DO YOUR OWN. it will take me TWENTY MINUTES. but instead we have to be FUCKING children about it and heres the thing i WILL win the fucking blackmail backstab game if you want to play that way!!! because im on fucking everyones good side!!!

#my posts #workposting #ALL I WANT IS TO DO MY LITERAL JOB. CAN WE ALL PLEASE BE CIVIL FUCKING ADULTS.

[screechthemighty]

Okay, so, remember that “the Knight System is autistic” fic I posted the first chunk of like two weeks ago? Because technically it’s still not done. But I realized after the finale that I could tweak it before posting it to AO3 and make it canon-compliant and most of it would actually make more sense. Except I also wrote part five (which is the longest part before/after ep. five and included some bits that are decidedly non-canon now. But I’m too attached to them to not share them. So...yeah, here’s the plan:

1) The second chunk AKA part five will be posted below.

2) I’ll finish up part six and then edit the earlier parts to be canon compliant.

3) Then I’ll post the whole, canon-compliant version to tumblr/AO3 and you’ll be able to read it all in one go instead of chunked across two posts and incomplete and non-canon, lmao. 

Yeah, I know, it’s a mess, but I’m Trying(TM). (Also I have another Moon Knight fic coming that will be a LOT more cohesive I promise).

Anyways! Alternate version part five of the “the Knight System is autistic” fic! CWs for internalized abelism/some abelist language, mentions of Marc’s suicidal thoughts/behavior, brief mention of child abuse, and a public meltdown.

iv. sensory overload

It hadn’t been the best day.

It felt like neither of them had slept all week. Marc was there, but only barely. Layla tried not to let that get to her, but...

“Can we not...can we not do this today?” Marc reached over to turn off the radio. “I’m sorry, I just can’t...”

He did sound guilty. In another time, she might not have thought twice about it. But that day, the silence made her feel like she was being buried alive. Marc leaned against the window with his eyes shut, hand opening and closing above his knee.

Damn it, Marc, say something. He didn’t, so eventually she had to. “So, you don’t happen to have any contacts in town that I don’t know about, do you?” she asked. “Because we could probably get this done faster if we split the work. I’m sure we could think of something to tell them.”

No response.

She let it sit. Let it sit until she couldn’t take it. “Marc...”

“I don’t. I don’t. Have anyone.”

“You sure? No war buddies? Maybe Duchamp or...” She glanced his way. “The woman you told me about, from the Marines? What was her name?”

Another long pause. His breathing sounded harsh. She’d thought it was just her imagination, her frustration making her hear everything more loudly, but even the rise and fall of his chest was choppy. “Marc?”

“I’m okay.” That was a lie. One of the few he had the nerve to say to her face. “Army Rangers.”

“What?”

“Walker was Army Rangers. Not Marines.”

Then he went quiet again. End of conversation, I guess.

Layla kept her gaze fixed on the road after that. A few times she thought she felt Marc glance at her. She couldn’t bring herself to look his way and confirm it. Just in case she was wrong.

Eventually, they reached the grocery store. Marc’s shoulders were tenser than ever as they went inside. She should’ve taken that as a hint, but Layla could really only think two things: that Steven wasn’t going to like how sore his neck were going to be, and that she couldn’t handle the silence anymore.

“So,” she said. “Are we ever gonna talk about this?”

Marc flinched, but didn’t look at her. “Can you please be a little more specific?” he said, his voice as tense as his shoulders. “I’m not a mind reader.”

“Any of it? You’ve barely been speaking to me about anything. We talk about work and that’s it.” Layla tried to angle herself so he had to look at her, but somehow he found a way to keep his eyes fixed on the shelves of bread. “Something’s eating at you. I want to know.”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Then why are you clenching your jaw again? Why have I been seeing Steven so much lately?”

“I thought you like Steven.”

Layla straightened up. Was she imagining it, or did he sound...annoyed? Accusatory? “What’s what supposed to mean?” she said.

Marc closed his eyes tightly, as if his own words had caused him pain. “Nothing. I’m gonna go get more aspirin.”

“Marc - !”

She hesitated. That was her next mistake. She was so thrown off by him just walking away again that her body took a second to catch up. By the time she started looking for him, he was already lost in the crowds and the aisles.

How many times is he going to do this? How many times is he going to walk away from me?

Screw it. Layla didn't bother trying to look for him. She kept following her own list, head down. She tried to ignore the little doodle at the bottom Steven had drawn. Some stick figure monstrosity that roughly looked like Khonshu with a speech bubble that said, Weh, meh, I’m Khonshu and I’m bloody ungrateful, shut up worm.

Layla sometimes wondered what the deity was up to lately. If even Steven was starting to get outwardly annoyed...

Something shattered a few aisles over. Layla flinched and looked around. Everyone else seemed startled, but even after a few heartbeats, no one was panicking. Some kid must have dropped a jar. Nothing to worry about. She turned back to her shopping, until...

“Sir? Sir...”

Someone ran past her aisle and for the door.

Not just someone. Marc.

.

His head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.

He couldn’t even tell which part was wrong. The lights were too bright, too loud. Every car that had driven past outside sounded like its engine was blasting directly into his ears. He could feel every seam on his clothes. Everything compounded to a swirl of nightmarish sensation.

And then there was Khonshu.

“HOW MUCH LONGER ARE YOU GOING TO STALL, MARC?”

Marc tried to keep his eyes fixed on the jars in front of him. He was trying to remember what kind of jam Steven liked. It felt like every memory was fading into nothing. Even the ones he’d been fully present for. How long had he been in this aisle? Where was Layla?

Layla. You snapped at her. You upset her. Fuck, why can’t you do anything right?

“WE HAVE WORK TO DO, MARC. YOU CAN’T WASTE TIME...”

“I’m handling it,” Marc said, or thought he said. Was the floor tilting under him? Sit down. You need to sit down. Sit down where, this is a grocery store, are you gonna sit in the aisles like a child... “I’m handling it...”

“Doesn’t seem to me like you’re handling anything.”

Marc thought he saw something move in the distorted reflection in the jam jars. He closed his eyes. No, that was almost worse. Light still trickled in through the gaps. His chest felt tight.

Breathe, Marc.

“YOU AGREED. MY FIST OF JUSTICE. WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING WITH THAT LATELY?”

He didn’t know. Nothing had felt right in weeks. He couldn’t focus on being the fist of justice, he couldn’t focus on trying to make things better with Layla, everything felt wrong and it was so much worse now in this fucking grocery store...

Somewhere, a kid shrieked. Marc flinched at the sound, his body jerking away from the shelves—

Elbow hitting a jar—

The sound of shattering was worse than the shriek had been. Next thing Marc knew, he was hunched over in the aisle, hands over his ears. It didn’t stop that shattering from echoing in his skull. People were talking. Looking at him. A memory bobbed to the surface. Much younger, in a store, lost, lights too bright, too loud, all these faces, some concerned, some disturbed. What’s wrong with him? Hey, where’s your mother? Is he crying? Sir...

Sir, are you hurt?

The hand brushed his shoulder.

That, of all things, was the last straw.

Marc ran for the door.

He somehow made it outside without hitting anything or anyone, but outside wasn’t better. The sun was blinding. People were trying to get in. Cars...

I can’t do this. Someone was calling his name. More than one someone? Khonshu (leave me alone), Layla (no, no, she can’t see me like this, she can’t), Steven...

Steven?

Please, please, I can’t do this, help me, please, I can’t do this, I can’t...

A car horn blared.

Steven scrambled to a stop, hands outstretched. The driver looked at him with aggravation, shouting something muffled by the engine. “Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry...”

Wait, where was he?

Steven focused on getting out of the way of the car before looking around. Parking lot. Grocery store. Wasn’t sure he’d ever been here before. His skin had this horrible, residual feeling of wrongness crawling over it, and there were tears on his face.

Well, that’s not good. He wiped them away and took a deep breath. I should get somewhere quiet. I can think if it’s quiet. Where was the car? Where was Layla?

“Marc!”

Uh oh.

Steven turned around. He didn’t have to explain it. From the look on her face, she’d figured it out. “Sorry,” Steven said again. “I think I...we need a minute, d’you mind if I...”

He noticed something grasped in one hand as he gestured towards the parking lot. A bottle of aspirin. Marc had been holding it so tightly their fingers ached. “...didn’t pay for this, did he?” Steven said sheepishly.

Layla laughed. It quickly became clear that she didn’t find it funny. It sounded like she might cry. For a second, Steven’s own conviction that he might start crying himself any second now seemed irrelevant. “Hey, hey, it’s all right...”

He tried to reach out, but all Layla did is take the aspirin. “It’s okay, I’ve got it,” she said. She passed him the car keys. “It’s down that way. I’ll see you in a bit.”

She had that look again. He still didn’t quite know what it meant, but she always seemed to wear it when she came to him expecting Marc and found him instead. Not disappointment, but...something else? He didn’t have time to analyze it. She was walking away and he really needed to get to a quieter environment.

Steven speed-walked to the car, into the driver’s side, and only started the car enough to turn on the air conditioning. The white noise of the fan running and the cool air on his face gave him near-instant relief. Steven carefully leaned against the steering wheel and closed his eyes. “Bad time of day to go shopping, mate,” he mumbled.

Was that what happened? Out of everything he and Marc could have in common was...that on the list? He’d have to ask Layla what happened later. He didn’t feel good about it—he tried not to be nosy about what happened between the two of them, especially since everyone was still trying to work out what the boundaries were. But it was perfectly acceptable to ask about things that affected him, too. Waking up in the parking lot and nearly getting hit by a car because Marc had run out of the grocery store for some reason was definitely on that list.

Besides...he did worry. After everything he’d seen...what he knew and understood about Marc now...sometimes it felt like the only reason Marc was keeping himself upright was for Steven’s sake, not his own.

That couldn’t be enough all the time. It just couldn’t.

Layla came back eventually. Steven helped her load the car and quietly moved into the passenger’s seat as they started driving away. Despite his resolution to ask her, he spent at least five minutes trying to think of the right thing to say.

And of course, the first thing to come out of his mouth was, “Shopping trip didn’t seem to go well.”

Fortunately, as with the comment about the aspirin, it got another laugh out of her. Unfortunately, as with the aspirin laugh, it sounded like she didn’t really find it funny at all. “No. No, shopping trip went horribly.” They stopped at a stop sign. There was no one else around at that point, but Layla stayed stopped much longer than she had to. “I think it’s partially my fault.”

“What? No, how could it be?”

“I just...tried to talk to him about something sensitive and...it wasn’t really the time, but there hasn’t...” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t want to drag you into this. None of it is your fault. There’s nothing you can do about it. It’s not fair.”

He understood where she was coming from, and a part of him was grateful she was thinking of his comfort. But this time... “I don’t know about that. He listens to me sometimes.” Steven tried for a smile. “Besides, I think...maybe this is starting to affect me, too. So maybe I should start getting involved?”

Layla considered it. When she finally moved the car forward, it was to pull over.

Then she started talking. It was a lot to take in, and it seemed like she’d be holding onto it for a while. But Steven go the gist of it.

He hasn’t been talking to me. It’s like he’s shut off. I can see him burning himself out but he won’t do anything about it. I thought we were supposed to be making things work, but...

They were. That was the whole idea. “So, I’m guessing all of this...boiled over, and then you tried to talk to him in the store,” Steven guessed. “Is that when he ran off?”

“No, it was after. He walked away from the conversation to get the aspirin, I didn’t go after him, I heard something break...next thing I know, I see him running out of the store. The clerk I talked to asked if he was okay, said he looked pretty freaked, but I don’t know...”

Steven thought about the tension in their jaw and shoulders and the fact that he’d come to in a parking lot with tears on his face. He thought about how bright the sun was and that it was, as he’d said, a horrible time of day to go shopping. He only ever went when it was late enough that only the stragglers and closers were left, or on the blessed days when his day off and the sensory friendly hours overlapped. And all the rest of that...

Hold on.

“Burning himself out working on this...Moon Knight thing, yeah?”

Layla nodded.

...damn it.

“Hold on.” Steven opened the car door. “Need to have a word with someone.”

He wasn’t sure it would work, but damn it if he wasn’t going to try. They’d pulled over next to a field, which worked just fine for his purposes. “Oi!” Steven yelled. He had to squint against the sunlight as he looked around. “Bird brain! What have you been doing to Marc?”

The shadow cast over him probably should have terrified him, but he was too angry to be afraid. “I HAVE REMINDED HIM OF HIS OBLIGATIONS-“

“Obligations, right. So you’re running him ragged? Yelling at him when he’s already working himself to the bone?” Steven turned around. Khonshu was doing his looming thing again. The sight did briefly make his throat close up, but his frustration overrode that quickly. “You’re killing him, you know that, right?”

“I...”

“No, shut up for five seconds! He’s so tense I need painkillers, he had a meltdown in a public place, you know he’s afraid of people thinking he’s bonkers...he needs to rest, and he doesn’t need you shaming him for it! Don’t, I’m not done!” It was impossible to read a facial expression when Khonshu didn’t have one, but the way he jerked his head back said indignant. “Did you learn anything after Harrow? Your last avatar tried to unleash Ammit on the planet, so you think, oh, I know, I’ll just badger the next one to an early grave! Marc’s the best possible avatar you could ask for, I know you know that, and if you had half a brain in that stupid skull of yours, you’d be doing whatever it took to keep him alive So, here’s what’s going to happen. Layla and I are going to make sure he rests and takes care of himself, yeah, and you can either get with the program, or I will personally make this whole arrangement very difficult. Understand?”

Khonshu bristled. “WE HAD A DEAL.”

“No, you and Marc had a deal. I didn’t agree to do anything.” Oh, he was on shaky ground and he knew it, but what else could he do? What else was going to work? “We do this on my terms or you find a new avatar. And I don’t just say that because of what I plan on doing. I don’t think he’ll want to take your offer a second time. He barely took it the first time, least you forget.”

He felt ill bringing that up, but...weirdly, it seemed to work. At the very least, Khonshu didn’t say anything as Steven stalked past him to the car. Layla looked...more than a little concerned when he got back in. “Were you just yelling at Khonshu?” she asked.

“...yeah...” His hands still weren’t shaking. Huh. “Guess once you’ve been claimed by the Duat, nothing really scares you anymore.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Long story.” Steven adjusted the vents as they drove. He felt like he’d re-ignited that headache by shouting so much. Hopefully it was worth it in the long run.

There was, he realized, one more person he should try to talk to. At least this one would be more willing to listen. “Look, don’t tell Marc I told you this, but...”

Oh, he definitely won’t like this.

“Y’know, couple people at my old job thought I was...on the spectrum, you know what I mean? Not in like a, oh, look at Steven, being weird again way, they actually meant it. And I don’t think they were wrong, I was just already on the wait list for a sleep test...” He couldn’t hold back a laugh. “...guess I don’t need that anymore. Anyway.” He glanced her way. She had both eyes on the road, but the expression she used when she was trying to pick apart a puzzle. “I don’t pretend to know how all this works. But what’s happening with him sounds familiar, and...if it is, if I’m right, he’s not doing this on purpose. He’s just got more to jump through. More than having me rattling around. I know, that doesn’t make things easier for you, but for what it’s worth...”

Layla nodded. She still looked so tired, so...sad. There had to be something he could do to fix this. Not just for Marc’s sake. But how? It was a lengthy conversation to have...they could talk, but this would take some extra effort.

Maybe...

“Hey, do we have any extra notebooks?”

 .

He shouldn’t have been disappointed when he woke up. He was trying to move past all that. He was really trying. The fact that he woke up feeling decently rested, not even a little sore, only made it worse.

He still takes better care of us than you do.

Marc rolled over and pulled the blankets further up. He might’ve stayed there if he hadn’t heard Layla moving around.

She’s not leaving for good, is she?

The thought was enough to make him get out of bed. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he was, what he could say that could make things right (especially with how he’d been acting lately), but he knew he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t try. He had a speech all ready.

He didn’t need it.

“Hey, you might want to sit this one out,” Layla sad without looking up. “It’s not dangerous, this guy is just kind of an asshole...” Layla did a double-take when she saw him. “Marc?”

“...yeah.” He was taken aback to hear...relief in her voice. “How long...?”

“Three days.” Days. Of course it had been days. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Think I...freaked out in the grocery store. I ran...don’t remember anything else after that. Was Steven okay?” Steven, left to pick up the pieces again. You can’t keep doing this to him.

“He’s all right. Worried about you. We both are.”

Marc wasn’t sure how to respond to that. His chest was a hurricane of emotions—relief that she wasn’t angry, confusion as to why she wasn’t angry, shame that he’d made her worry, that she was worrying about him despite all the bullshit he’d pulled lately...what are you still doing here? Steven’s stuck with me, but what are you still doing here?

“Listen, I...” Layla hesitated. “I have someplace I have to go, but I can handle it alone. You should stay here and rest. And...” She got something off the table, one of those black and white notebooks he remembered from school. “...Steven wanted you to read this.”

Marc frowned slightly and too the notebook. Weird. Steven had never written anything for him before. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Like I said, nothing dangerous, they’re just assholes. I didn’t want them bullying Steven.” She hesitated before squeezing his shoulder. “Promise me you’ll rest?”

Marc laughed bitterly, despite himself. “Don’t know how much of a say I get,” he said. “But...I’ll try.”

“Okay.” Layla hesitated again. He wished he knew what that look on her face meant. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

He hated how dubious it sounded, even to his own ears. Hopefully Layla didn’t hear it.

Despite his promise, Marc put off reading the notebook at first. He just held it, fingers tracing over the cover as if he could guess what was inside just by touch. The longer he sat there, the more strongly he felt eyes on him.

“What?” Marc asked dully.

Khonshu at last had the decency to loom on the other side of the room. “YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T KNOW.”

“I did?”

“WHEN I ASKED.”

...no, they weren’t doing this. Marc stood up, gripping the notebook in both hands. He barely made it to the door before Khonshu stopped looming in the corner and starting standing in Marc’s way. “DO YOU KNOW?”

Marc gritted his teeth, sending a twinge of pan up his jaw. “Do you actually want to know?” he said. “Do you give a shit about the answer or are you just hoping I’ll make you feel better?”

Khonshu didn’t reply.

“Can I go? Please?”

When he looked up again, Khonshu was gone. Marc sighed and headed straight for the coffee maker. If was going to read the damn thing, he might as well be awake when he did.

Once the cup was brewed, Marc settled down, took a deep breath, and forced himself to open the notebook. Steven’s handwriting was getting to be familiar at this point, almost calming. Or it would’ve been, had his stomach not been trying to claw its way out of his body.

Hello! Feels a bit weird to be trying this, but I’ve got a lot to say and I know a lengthy conversation would be a lot of effort. Long and short of it is that I’m worried about you. Layla says you’ve been struggling lately and I can feel it, too. (Unclench your jaw. I know you’re doing it right now.)

“Funny,” Marc muttered, though he did make a conscious effort to relax his jaw as he kept reading.

Thing is, I know you’ve had a lot on your plate. Not just lately. I’m guessing forever, and I’m guessing it wasn’t just me. Now I don’t want to make any assumptions, so just tell me if any of this sounds familiar:

You don’t notice you’re hungry until it’s too late (especially when you’re working)

Sometimes it feels like the same amount of work feels like it takes twice as much effort as it does everyone else

You have at least three bad sounds, five bad kinds of fabric, bright lights make you want to claw your eyes out, and being out in public too long feels worse than a fist fight

You can hear the phone charger at night and no one knows what you’re talking about when you mention it to them

You can’t always tell what people are thinking from their faces, but everyone acts like you should. Really people act like you should know a lot of things when you don’t. It’s like they want you to be a bloody mind reader.

I’d ask if you talk too much sometimes, but Layla said you stop talking entirely. Still counts towards my point

You kept having “tantrums” even as an adult. (They’re not really tantrums I’m telling you that now. But everyone calls them that, because people are stupid. Anyway!)

There was more to the list, but Marc stopped reading the list after the last one. He had to set the notebook aside and breathe past the memory...panic, lights too bright, hands harshly jerking him along out of the store...

You’re too old to be doing this, Marc!

It was like all he ever did was give her reasons to hate him.

But how did Steven know about all that? He wasn’t supposed to experience those moments. That was the point. Marc picked up the notebook again, bypassing the rest of the list to get back to the main point.

Now you’re probably wondering, “Steven, you handsome devil, how do you know so much?” Because I’ve been living that. My whole life. And I know there’s lots we don’t have in common, but we could have all of this in common. And if we do, I can help.

I know that this isn’t something you like to talk about. But none of this is your fault and none if it is anything you should be ashamed of. You don’t have to push yourself to be like everyone else. I understand. Layla does, too. We’re both worried about you, and we don’t want you to keep hurting yourself like this.

I wrote down some of the things that help me. Just promise me you’ll think about it? If not for your sake, then mine, and Layla’s. He’d scratched something out there. Marc could guess from context: it’s hurting us, too. Steven had probably taken that out, not wanting to make Marc feel worse than he already did, but...

He wouldn’t have been wrong to say it. Marc knew his behavior was hurting them both. He just hadn’t seen a way out. Story of his life, now that he thought about it. Backed into a corner. No way out. No way to ask for help, because there was no one to ask, or because asking would mean admitting that he was...broken. Unlovable.

But here was someone holding out a hand. Steven. Saving him again.

Marc flipped the pages. Steven had filled them with various bits of advice. Less exhausting times to go shopping. Earplug brands. All things Marc might not have thought to do—or allowed himself to do, because he didn’t want to attract attention to himself, because he couldn’t stand people looking at him like he was insane...

But when Steven said it, it felt like permission.

That’s it, really. We can chat if you have more questions. We love you. Laters!

And then, right under that:

He’s right.

Don’t kill yourself over all this.

-Jake

“...shit,” Marc muttered. That was unexpected.

For a long moment, he sat in silence, fingers tracing over the words. Eventually he got up and moved to the bathroom, and the mirror inside. It was a bit embarrassing, he’d never admit to it, but...if he rested his forehead against the mirror and closed his eyes, he could pretend. Just for a second.

“I’d hug you again if I could,” he muttered. “And you too, Jake, you asshole.”

It was the calmest he’d felt in months. Maybe not calm. Just…understood.

It felt good.

#moon knight #my writing #my fanfic #I'll link to part one in a reblog because I don't know who has and hasn't read it

[detectiveconnor]

@jericholeader​ sent: “I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 

“Detective Smith,” Simon greeted him, when he came to change out Markus’ IV. Connor was working one-handed, reading what updates he was allowed from the case (and other work: things he needed to attend to, or provide information about, today) on a tablet Hank had dropped by with. His other hand was on Markus’, holding on. Occasionally, Connor provided a verbal update about something interesting, but unclassified, that he could share -- just for the sake of anything other than straight silence. Simon said, “I thought you’d be home by now. It can’t be comfortable for you here.” The ICU wasn’t designed for visitors, at least not in the long term. There was a seat, which Connor was sitting in, but it was hard plastic with thin foam and his jacket folded behind him for some semblance of lumbar support.

They hadn’t told him to leave yet, partly because he’d argued Markus needed some form of security. Connor believed that was true. He’d asked for a police presence, someone he trusted, but the department was dragging its feet, which meant Connor was the only one who... was here. Could be here. He couldn’t investigate this without jeopardising a conviction, the only thing he -

the only thing he could do was sit here and hold Markus’ hand. “I’m okay.”

Simon looked skeptical, but he checked Markus’ vitals and scratched something onto his clipboard. “When did you last sleep?” he asked Connor, adjusting something that beeped. Connor would have liked to know what... everything here was. It was not his field of expertise. Markus would have known, but he was asleep beside him. They were not out of the woods yet. He could stay like that -- asleep.

“It’s been a while.” Honest. Connor hadn’t really slept since he’d... well, fallen asleep last time. Was this a reasonable amount of worry?

They were friends. All else aside, they were friends. Simon told him, “You should try to get some rest. He’ll be out for a while.” Maybe for the rest of his life. Connor worked in violent felonies -- he may not have known much about medical technology but he knew how hospital staff reacted to someone who mightn’t make it. Someone badly hurt. The trained calm was something he would have recognised even if he hadn’t had first-hand experience watching victims of violent crimes die in rooms just like this one.

Connor’s thumb circled the back of Markus’ knuckles. Thoughtful. Worried. Simon left the room without Connor’s answer, too busy to wait for it.

“Mm..” a murmur at first. Markus’ brow creased in concentration, and Connor shifted forward as though to offer confirmation (yes, he was there - no, Markus was not alone) -- but Markus said, drifty, “... I‘ll still... be here when... you wake up.” His eyes weren’t even open. Connor did not think he had the strength for it. Two seconds ago, he would not have thought Markus had even been awake enough to follow the tail-end of a conversation. Markus’ fingers flexed, just barely, beneath Connor’s. Reaching. He didn’t quite manage it, but Connor answered him with a squeeze, anyway.

It was strange, to be temporarily at a loss for words. Then: “I’ll be here when you do.” A promise in return. “We should both rest.”

Maybe Markus already was back to sleep. Connor didn’t know. But he had twice been told by medical professionals, now, that he needed to sleep, and the work that was trickling in was going to drive him mad for how little was being done - it had to be meticulous but there were ways to do it faster, he wanted... he... Connor closed out of what he was working on and set the tablet down in the satchelbag he had with him, shifting his seat nearer to the bed so he could borrow some of its comfort, to rest against. It wasn’t ideal -- his shoulder would be sore -- but it would let him get some sleep. A nap, at least.

He wanted to say something else. Your O2 Sat’s low, or, you missed our coffee date, or, I miss you.

He closed his eyes, instead. Connor settled down to sleep.

#ic #jericholeader #*shrug* #hospital cw #police brutality cw

[rise-my-angel]

Hi. Can I ask what's going on with your cat? Is there anything that can be done for her? I'm really sorry to hear what's been happening.

She uh, has hyperthyroidism, but due to her advanced age and pre existing conditions, the over active thyroid has done damage that can't be reversed or treated.

Her biggest issue is being able to eat. She's on a temporary medication to boost her appetite which has worked for the day at least, but both me and the vet talked about looking at this long term.

And in long term, shes only going to get worse. Her treatment so far has stopped it from damaging her anymore, but the thyroid moved quickly and the damage thats been done is already making her suffer.

Ive never once seen her act this solemn and unhappy. Shes not even close to who she was months ago and the vet and i agreed that we have to consider her quality of life.

And using appetite stimulants to get her to eat isnt a long term solution they are used only as a temporary measure to get the cat to eat while its illness is treated or cured. But she isnt going to get better, only worse.

Shes lost a lot of weight despite both me and the vets best efforts, and thats going to also cause medical issues.

I'm at the end here. On monday the vet is calling me to talk about what to do next, but me and her left the appointment today knowing that were very near the end of things. I dont want her to suffer through more tests more needles more medication and getting more sick just beacuse i dont want to be without her.

Thats not fair to her. Shes my baby. Shes been so good to me, so now i have to take care of her before she suffers more. Id rather we end things sooner before shes so miserable, while she still knows i love her. Instead of dragging her through so much medical procedures just beacuse i am going to be a wreck without her.

Its probably the worst thing ill ever do, putting her down, but i cant sit back and watch her suffer, my kitty deserves better then that.

[indigo474]

Hi My name is April.. I'm into skipping rocks and making fires. Ha. I went to the woods to run but gathered sticks instead so i can build fires. I'm probably going to need more wood. I had a great day. I lifted heavy- 2 days in a row. I do enjoy lifting heavy things. I can't seem to get past 100 lbs for my upper body. It's a bit frustrating. Lower body- I've never NOT lifted whatever .. 165 dead lift- split squats.. push, pull- we talked about addictions- food addictions. it's such a horrible cycle- i don't believe anyone who is morbidly overweight is actually happy. I know I wasnt - i used food to stuff my emotions for years and years.. even now, if shit goes down between me and Madison i'll find myself in the kitchen looking for something to eat. actually- it was a while ago that happened. In our apartment- i recognized what was happening.. we rarely have any type of binge food the house now. There were a few things i had to tell Madison to not buy anymore.. I actually used running as a way to deal with the stress of buying my home. so, there is hope- but its hard and takes self awareness.. there is the hard of making the right food choice and logging and prepping or there is the hard of self loathing and feeling like crap-both are hard. We got to talking about this because of a guy i work with.. he is so big he has to sit in a special chair and he has a hard time walking to the bathroom.. its scary.

this is the 4th Christmas i wont be seeing my kids. I am debating sending them their Christmas ornaments and stockings and things that belong to them. I'm ready to let the stuff go. I'm just ready to let go. it is what is is and life goes on. Ive cried a million tears. I carry no bitterness or anger in my heart for them.. only love. its their stuff and i want to make room for new things.. things that bring me joy. I'll gather it together and decide what to .

I got a lot done today. I slept in until 8. I would like to run tomorrow. I'm not sure how my legs will feeling the morning. Madison wants to hang out with me before she foes to work. My left knee has been hurting since Thursday. It actually feels ok right now- motrin. Its not swollen.. I swear every time i ask the universe to show me how good my life can be it delivers. I do believe I am the creator of my life- while i am incredibly grateful for the career i have i am open to something new- i don't know the details.. even if i start some sort of side hustle .. so much to do.. but yes, i am pretty much open to anything. I am hoping 2024 is the year i finally meet someone.. i dont know if i should get back on the dating apps .. i am not a fan.. i cant imagine anyone is a fan,.. just awful. I need going out cloths.. I need to .. have sex with someone other than myself.

[nutteu]

a place for us, in the cradle of your lungs [Chapter IV]

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[AO3] [AO3 Chapter II] [AO3 Chapter III] [AO3 Chapter IV] [AO3 Chapter V] [moonsea series]

-

“You can’t keep holing up in this sad excuse of a nest,” Khonshu said from the door.

Jake glared at him because that stupid bird really didn’t know how to tone down his voice. He looked at Steven, sighing when the man was still asleep despite the disturbance. “Fuck off,” he grumbled. “I’m not doing anything today.”

“It’s been almost a week,” Khonshu deadpanned. “You’re going to get fired.”

“By whom?” Jake asked back, not caring in the slightest. “By my boss? By you? I don’t mind either way.”

“This is ridiculous!” the old god roared out, yanking Jake out of the bed until he toppled over to the floor. “You have the responsibility as my avatar! Not this! You can play house all you want with this pathetic worm, but you have to remember that you are bound to me by something more than a fractured soul.”

“My god, you’re so cranky in the morning,” Jake said to the ceiling. He glanced over when tufts of curly hair appeared on the edge of the bed, Steven’s sleepy smile soft and gentle as he slid from the mattress to where Jake was, curling around him as if nothing amiss had happened. “I can’t move. I have a barnacle I have to take care of.”

Khonshu let out a plethora of expletives, but Jake didn’t pay him no mind. He’d do what Khonshu wanted at the end of the day. Just—not now. Not when the traces of fear were still very much present on the back of his tongue, when there was a fragile tension between him and Steven, when he couldn’t admit to himself that he held Steven tighter when they slept. Not even Anubis said anything about his sudden overprotectiveness, though Jake suspected that the mongrel knew what this was about.

“I’m going to give you one day. One day,” Khonshu said threateningly, then disappeared in a dramatic flurry of wind and pages of the book ruffled about.

When the god was gone, Steven lifted his head, mischief apparent in the twinkle of his eyes as he said, “Breakfast.” Motherfucker knew and had heard Khonshu, and chose to ignore the god all the same. Cheeky little shit.

Jake smiled back at him. “Yeah, breakfast.”

He pulled through with his promise of not doing anything that day. Just spending his time watching Steven’s movements carefully, as he had done for the past week. Anubis appeared sometimes, but Jake ignored the knowing look in his dark eyes, the air of solemnity around him when he touched Steven. He didn’t know what that was all about, and the possibilities made him sick to the stomach. So, he tried not to think about them.

He didn’t read Steven the many books the man had in the apartment. Instead, he told Steven of fairy tales in a language that he had adopted from the streets of New York. Steven didn’t seem to understand a word that he said, but he listened nonetheless, sitting between Jake’s parted legs on the floor. His eyes never strayed from Jake’s face, fingers fiddling with loose threads on his sweatpants. He looked hung-up, like Jake was the only thing that could ever mean something to him. It was a familiar look, one that Jake had seen aimed at Marc instead.

It felt gratifying still, to be the center of Steven’s attention, the center of his small world as of now. Steven didn’t make him feel like a replacement, a knock-off version of Marc, one that was more violent and harsh than the man that Steven had come to care for. There was nothing but sincerity and affection in his gaze, and at times it was too much for Jake to handle. But he didn’t look away—not anymore, this time.

“I thought you’d love fairytales,” Jake mused out loud, caressing Steven’s jaw. “And in a way, I guess you do. But it turned out that you lean towards fairytales with gritty details and bloody ending. Even you couldn’t escape the violence within our blood, huh, querido.”

The endearment felt weird on his tongue, but Steven, despite the fact that he couldn’t possibly understand what it meant, gave him a sweet smile and a nudge to his palm. He was like a cat, Jake thought, when he was being like this. Though it could be the wrong conclusion, because cats are more likely to be elusive in their affection. A dog, perhaps—so sincere and eager in showing his fondness.

But Jake didn’t like dogs anymore, now. Not when there were still unsaid secrets that Anubis hid about Steven’s agreement with him. Whatever that Steven had asked of the god, Jake would make sure that it wouldn’t amount to anything.

He didn’t want to acknowledge another fear lodging itself between his ribs. The fear that he was mere mortals in the big cogs of engine, that he wouldn’t be able to do anything when the gods had spoken—that, perhaps, whatever it was that Jake was trying to prevent, had already happened.

When he shook off those thoughts and looked down, he found that Steven was already fast asleep, head lying on his thigh. Steven slept a lot these days, and it should worry Jake. But his coordination was improving, and he was even able to put the bread in the toaster, beaming at Jake and waiting for a pat on his head. His words were still jumbled, but Jake thought that he could recognize some of them clearer than before. Perhaps, Steven’s body was conditioning itself in the apparent efforts that the man had made to get better.

He carefully didn’t think about how this renewed tenacity was born after the night they had fought.

He took Steven’s arms in his, slipping his palms underneath each thigh to heave the man up, and carried him to the bed. Steven was used to curling around either Anubis or Jake when he slept, so Jake put a bunch of pillows on the side for the man to snuggle into, pulling up the blanket up to Steven’s chin even if he knew that it would be discarded in fifteen minutes, and he had to fix it again because if he let it be, Steven would whine and snuffle in his sleep.

There were a few messages from Marc that he hadn’t replied to, postcards he hadn’t taken a look at yet. When he first did this, he was hit by a sense of déjà vu, and he didn’t know how Marc had felt, doing all of this before. He knew that Marc was the one who kept sending messages and postcards under his mother’s name for Steven, hiding the fact that the kind, loving mother in Steven’s fabricated memories was no longer there, that she wasn’t alive anymore.

Jake felt like that, now—replying to the messages, playing the voicemails to Steven, who would listen with such gentleness in his smile, showing Steven the postcards and taking pictures of the man with them sometimes to send to Marc, just as another lie that Steven Grant was indeed living his life, that he was doing okay instead of falling apart at the seams.

Steven wasn’t awake to enact silly poses with the postcards and myriad of gifts that Layla had sent along sometimes. But Jake scooted closer to the bed nonetheless, opening the camera and snapping a picture of Steven’s sleeping face, half hidden by the pillows. He looked ridiculous, looked young. Jake swallowed and put the phone on top of the nightstand, fixing the blanket that had tangled itself on Steven’s legs.

“It smells like rotten flesh in here,” Khonshu’s booming voice was suddenly heard in the room, and Jake rolled his eyes.

“That’s you,” he quipped back, then looked at Steven. “He’s getting better. Nothing is rotting in here.”

“All the more reason you should leave him be,” Khonshu said. “Anubis has agreed to take him as his ward, has he not? Then what are you doing here, still, Jake Lockley?”

He stared at a particular curl obscuring Steven’s left eye, brushing it away with careful fingers. He didn’t want to say anything, but the words came unbidden from his mouth. “I don’t know,” he said, surprised by the honesty of it.

Khonshu was silent for a moment. “There is no use in saving the damned,” the old god finally advised, sounding weary and tired for once, instead of the petulance and haughtiness that usually colored his voice.

“You saved Marc,” Jake said.

“And that does not change the fact that Marc Spector, and all of you, has been claimed by the dark.”

“What, not even a chance of redemption after we crossed to the field of reeds?” he tried to joke. It fell flat instead. Jake couldn’t even muster a smirk.

“Perhaps you and Marc Spector still could,” Khonshu then said. “But not him. Anubis saved him from the Duat, and thus the fragment of soul that belonged to him, now resided in the afterlife for eternity.”

“Not if I can help it,” he said, knowing full well that it sounded like a farfetched dream.

“Jake,” Khonshu said, appearing right behind him, a skeletal hand draped over his shoulder. “You can wage wars against the gods, but you cannot meddle with fate.”

Steven snuffled, turning in his sleep and messing up the blanket again. Jake tucked him in regardless, securing the blankets around his legs so he wouldn’t get cold. He had had enough of Steven going cold and lifeless. “You’re wrong,” he said. “Marc’s fate was to die in that tomb. My fate was to continue being a hidden shadow. He changed that.”

“And he must suffer the consequences.”

“He just wanted to save us,” Jake whispered, closing his eyes.

“Jake,” Khonshu called out again, turning him around so they could face each other. The empty sockets where Khonshu’s eyes were supposed to be bore into Jake. He felt naked, fragile. He wanted to slip into the blanket with Steven and pretended that they were alright. Never in his life that Jake Lockley felt this vulnerable, this weak. He had always been a vicious fighter; perhaps not a warrior like Marc, not a knight like Steven. Nothing but a blade wielded by the old god. The very same old god who had taken him under his tutelage, who was regarding him with something akin to respect and the barest hint of care. “Saving will always come with a cost. It is regarded as a selfless act for a reason, for the price of saving will always be heavy, and one must be ready for the retribution. No good deed will come without consequences.”

“Everyone is damned, is that what you’re saying?” he asked, laughing humorlessly. When Khonshu didn’t say anything, he pushed. “What? Even the gods?”

“You need not concern yourself with something bigger than your mortal life, Jake,” Khonshu said instead. “That is why, I ask of you to leave him be. This is something even I cannot control. You are helpless in the face of Steven Grant’s fate.”

He closed his eyes and turned away, grappling for the edge of the blanket in fear of waking Steven up if he were to hold his hand so suddenly. “No,” he said as he opened his eyes, conviction ringing clear in his syllable. “He’s mine to do with. I won’t let something as ridiculous as fate meddle with what is within my right.”

“Then you are a bigger fool than what I have thought,” Khonshu said, and left them alone, gusts of wind in the still apartment room the only sign he was ever there.

Jake lifted the edge of the blanket, then, sliding in and letting out a soft sigh when Steven instinctively turned to nudge his head against Jake’s shoulder. He wrapped an arm around the man, fingers running through the tangle of curls because he forgot to brush them this morning, thinking of the mess he had found himself neck-deep in.

Goddamned Steven Grant with his kind heart. If he just let them be, they wouldn’t be in this predicament. But then, Marc would forever be in Khonshu’s tight grip; they’d spend their shared life with blood on their hands; Jake wouldn’t know how much of a hassle it was to take care of Steven, and he couldn’t have known how it felt to be something more than anger, than being a cold-blooded murderer: to be the Jake whom Steven waited for each night to come home, to be the Jake whom Steven smiled at and held as if he was a stolen heartbeat.

“Jake,” Steven whispered, eyes closed still as he pawed at Jake’s shirt.

He pulled the man closer into his chest, burying his face in the tangled curls. “I’m here,” he said, and felt Steven relax further into him. “I’m gonna save you, little dove. Be damned with fate.”

Perhaps he was painting an even bigger target on his back, swaddling himself in layers and layers of bad omen by taunting the universe. But what was he supposed to do, other than fought, the way he had done all his life? He’d fight for this, too, he decided.

Even if it was hopeless, even if Jake knew that it was futile, even if the price would be more than what he could afford.

(Even if they were damned, and Steven had never asked to be saved.)

-

#moon knight #shiki writes #from ao3 #jakesteven #jake lockley #steven grant #moonsea

[spicy-tomato]

Can i pls req dream being reader's sugar daddy :O - 🌼

sorry this took a hot sec ive been working on this one for a while cause i really liked the idea, so here you go :)) it ended up being like 2k words so im sorry

You had it all, anything you could want and more. Wanted to go to rome? Done, your plane leaves tomorrow. Dream absolutely spoiled you and you couldnt be more happy about it. It started off as a thing to help you with rent, but the longer you did it the more you enjoyed being able to get what you wanted when you wanted. Today was your weekly lunch with dream, you had both agreed that at least once a week he would take time off to get lunch with you, it made you smile to see him take time for you. As the tease you were, you decided to wear something a little revealing to tease him since he had cancelled your shopping trip with him the day before. You put on a low cut crop top and some shorts that show a little too much before fixing your hair. You hear you phone ding, getting a text from dream,

Daddy dream <3

Hey baby, i'm out front whenever youre ready to go

You smile and put your phone in your pocket before walking out to his car and getting in. you kiss his cheek quickly “hi daddy” you giggle and smile at him

“Hi sweetheart” he looks you up and down before smirking “like the outfit, all for me?” you giggle and nod before he starts to drive to the restaurant, one hand on your thigh. “Do you know what you want? You know the rule, anything you want no matter the price. And after that we can go shopping to make up for my cancelling yesterday.” you smile at him

“I know, and we dont have to dream, we can just hang out. Its been a while since we did that. Maybe we can go somewhere for you to make it up to me instead” he smiles and squeezes your thigh as he pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant.

“Anywhere you want baby, only the best for you.” you look down and blush, moving over to lean your head on his shoulder as he moves a hand to pet your hair. “Ill take you anywhere anytime and get you anything you want.” you cant lie, at times you had thought about being more than just his sugar baby, having a real romantic relationship, but he was always so busy that it made it seem almost impossible. Sure he took time out to be with you but it was never a lot unless you were traveling. He didnt tell you a lot about his job either, just knew that he had a large following and that he didnt want anything serious and put his partner in a bad situation, but damn if you havent thought about him coming home to you and calling you his.

“Baby? You okay? You zoned out.” he waves a hand in front of your face and you blink back to reality.

“Yeah, sorry i just got a little distracted. Lets go get some food!” you pull away from him and he gets out, walking around to open your door for you and holds a hand out to help you. “Thank you” you smile and take his hand as you step out, he closes the door behind you and puts an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side as you both walk up to get a table. You get seated immediately and he pulls your chair out for you. “Is there a single flaw with you?” you ask genuinely, he just laughs and shakes his head.

“Theres a bunch you dont know about me, sweetheart.” you roll your eyes as the waitress comes back with your mimosa and his water, asking for your orders. He orders for you and him before she walks off to put them in. He always knows what you want and orders it for you. It makes you smile that he likes to take care of you. You shake that thought away and go back to mindlessly talking with him, waiting on the food. It comes shortly and you both start to eat. “Where do you want to go? Japan? Italy? Oh we havent been to paris in a while, maybe there.”

“I think paris would be great, its always so pretty this time of year, maybe we can have dinner on the eiffel tower again!” your eyes light up at the thought of going back to paris. Last time you went was last spring, you both walked around and had the most wonderful time people watching and shopping. You take another bite and he looks like hes about to say something before he stops himself and looks down. “What is it? Is something wrong?” you look at him concerned, scared you messed something up.

“Its nothing darling, dont worry.” you both finish up lunch and he pays before helping you up and leading you back to the car. “I have something id like to ask you when we get to paris if thats okay, its nothing bad i promise its just something ive been meaning to ask for a while is all.” you nod as he opens the door for you and helps you in. “now, a pretty girl like you needs pretty new clothes for the trip, lets go get you some.” he smiles at you as he gets in, resting a hand back on your thigh as he starts the car, leading you both to the mall.

You spend hours in there going to different stores and trying things on, him getting you whatever you wanted without any hesitation. You walk back to the car with armfulls of bags and a couple new suitcases. “Thank you so much daddy, youre the best.” you kiss his cheek and he turns a little red.

“Its no problem baby, why dont you stay over tonight and we can leave in the morning to head to the airport. I can help you pack and we can watch a movie.” you smiles and nod, putting your bags in the back of the car and your new suitcases in the trunk.

“Id like that…” you think for a second about how nice it would be to wake up next to him every day and how nice it is to fall asleep next to him when it happens, even if when you did wake up after he wasnt next to you. The cold bed always made you remember that you would never be more than this, not that this was bad in the least its just sometimes you wish you could be more. He drives you both back to his apartment building and helps you out, grabbing most of your bags, only leaving you to grab the suitcases as you enter the building. He lived on the top floor in the penthouse, expected for how much money he had. You set your stuff down in his room, your new clothes already laid out nicely thanks to him. He walks up behind you and hugs you from behind.

“Youll look so good in all of those baby, gonna be the prettiest one in paris.” he kisses your neck softly before pulling away and taking your hand, leading you to sit on the part of the bed not covered by clothes. “Let me go run you a bath and you can pick out a movie.” you nod and he walks to the bathroom, leaving you alone on the bed. You turn on the tv and start scrolling through netflix looking for a movie, finally deciding as he walks back in and picks you up. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, moving your head to rest on his chest as he carries you to the bathroom. He sets you on the counter and takes your shirt off carefully, leaving kisses down your neck and chest and he moves down to take your shorts off. You lift yourself gently to help him take your shorts off. He takes them off quickly before nipping and kissing your inner thighs, ghosting over your core. You whine and try to move closer to him before he presses your hips down into the counter.

“Stay still baby, dont wanna have to punish you. Daddy just wants his desert.” you nod quickly and stay still, his head diving to softly kiss your clit, causing you to whine. He chuckles and starts to slowly eat you out, almost at a teasing pace. You whine and grip the counter, trying to keep from pulling his hair. He pulls away and smiles, “good girl, being so good and not pulling my hair. Just letting daddy eat you up.” after he says that his hands move down to your thighs open as he starts to eat you out like a man starved. You let out a loud moan and throw your head back, your hands moving to his hair and tugging closer. At this point he didnt care about you pulling his hair, to blissed out by hearing your sweet moans and tasting you. Your cries became louder as he dragged you closer to the edge. as you were almost there he stopped, causing a loud whine from you as he moves up to face you. He looked like heaven like this, face covered in your slick with eyes dark from lust.

“Now my good little girl, i want you to get off the counter and bend over for daddy.” you quickly move off the counter and do as your told. “Such a perfect little girl, i want you to watch as i make you feel good, got it? You look away and i stop,” he chuckles and grabs your neck after you nod. His hand moves from your neck to your hair to hold you in place, making eye contact with him through the mirror.

“Such a precious little pet for me, arent you?” you whine as he lines up with your entrance, teasing you, causing you to press your hips back against him. He smacks your ass roughly and pulls you against his chest by your hair. “Thats not very nice bun, its almost like you want me to leave you all worked up.’’ he smirks at you before pulling you roughly back against him, ripping a scream from your throat. He sets a brutal pace, leaving no time for you to adjust to him. He keeps the pace, your legs starting to shake as he brings you back to the edge of your orgasm before quickly throwing you over it. You let out a cry of his name, trails of tears starting to run from your eyes as he keeps going.

“Pretty little bunny, always so good and tight for me. Gonna breed you so good. Fuck you until i know it takes.” he tugs your hair roughly and starts to bite and suck at your neck, leaving marks in his wake. You whine and cry, moving your hands to tug at his hair. “So close princess, gonna fill you up so good.” he moves a hand to your clit to punctuate his statement, causing a louder cry to come from you as you tip over the edge once again. His hips start to stutter as he fills you up, riding out his high with shallow thrusts letting out a few more quiet moans before pulling out of you carefully. You whine and tug at his hair as he does so. He picks you up carefully as he pulls away.

“i figured we could take a bath and then cuddle before we pack and figure out what time we should leave for the airport.” you nod and he carries you carefully over to the tub, setting you down carefully in it before getting and sitting behind you. He starts to wash your hair as you slowly drift off to sleep. You wake up briefly as he lifts you from the tub and carries you to the bed. He moves the blankets back and sets you down gently before crawling in next to you , pulling the blankets back over you.

“Be my partner,” he says as you turn towards him

“Only if we can still go to paris” you giggle and he nods, kissing the top of your head before you both drift off.

#dream smp x reader smut #dreamwastaken smut #dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken x reader #dream smp x reader #dream x reader smut #dreamwastaken x reader smut #dream x reader #dream smut #dream smp #dsmp smut #mcyt x reader smut #mcyt smut

[havin-a-wee]

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles blog #harry styles headcannon #harry styles au #dad!harry #one direction smut #one direction fanfiction

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

HOT DAY AND A TIRED MAN

This fic is dedicated to @lovelyladyraven for being my first ever paid commission.

Shouta Aizawa x fem reader

Tw:dangerous situation, breeding, OVERSTIMULATION

Word count: 3.5k

This was not how you had planned to spend your day. Your boss had decided that the roof needed to be cleaned on the second hottest day this summer! Of course you were the only one who had just finished up their task so he sent you to do it by yourself with a promise of sending the next available person up to switch with you soon. Instead you had spent two hours cleaning up dirt and shining the vents on a roof that no one but maintenance workers ever set foot on! Once you had seen how much time had passed you went to the door with every intention of stomping down the stairs and clocking out, not willing to do overtime just to clean a roof. But the knob wouldn't turn no matter how hard you pulled. You banged on the door a few times only to realize that one of the idiots that you work with had locked the door. Quickly you took out your phone and called the store phone no answer, then your boss's phone no answer, then you called the two other coworkers who had been working with you today. Not a single person answered you! You went over to the side of the building that looked over the parking lot seeing that all their cars were already gone from their usual spots. The bastards had left for the day and left you locked on the roof with no way to go home or even get water. You tried for another 30 minutes to reach your boss and coworkers only for them to start rejecting your calls. They did this on purpose. You went and sat in the shade of the roof door access and took a few calming breaths. You knew that they weren't going to come back until tomorrow and you also knew that they probably expected you to sit up here and cry waiting till morning for them to come and "save" you. So instead you looked up the number for the local fire department. Once someone picked up you heard a deep gravelly voice through the speaker. 

"Fire station 6 what can I help you with?" 

The man seemed tired and kind of put out but instead of apologizing for bothering him like your brain was screaming at you to do, you cleared your throat and spoke. You gave him a detailed rundown of your situation and explained that you would have called the emergency line first except your boss's wife worked the police directory and if he was locking you on the roof like this you were afraid that his wife would just not send anyone to help you. It was a small town and things like that were constantly looked over as long as you knew the right people. He hummed in agreement.

" That's sad but true. I know your boss and his wife well enough that you're probably 100 percent right about what they would do and how they would cover this up. They've done it before. Me and a few guys will be there in about 20 minutes to come get you down. Just keep calm and do your best to stay out of the sun until then we don't need you getting any more dehydrated than you already are."

He gave a quick goodbye and hung up. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing that you had chosen correctly when you called the fire station. You sat in the shade and tried to put a face to the voice of the tired firefighter who would be coming to free you from your rooftop prison. Like a fool you had never asked his name. As you thought about it you started to get a bit lightheaded. It had definitely been too long since you had any water. The heat was starting to get to you now that your adrenaline had stopped pumping so hard. With nothing else to do you layed down as much in the shade as you could and did a breathing exercise. During your exercise you must have blacked out because the next thing you knew you were being carried down the stairs in a set of strong arms. 

The person carrying you was speaking to you but you couldn't make out what they were saying over the fog that was covering your brain. You knew the sound of that voice though. It was the tired firefighter but he sounded a whole lot less tired and a whole lot more angry. You really hoped he wasn't angry at you. Maybe you were too heavy and he was annoyed at having to lug you down the stairs. With a weak hand you reached up maybe to apologize somehow, but ended up cupping his cheek. His stubble felt funny in your already funny feeling hand. He stopped walking at the feeling of your hand on his face. You still couldn't open your eyes so instead you mumbled a garbled sorry and proceeded to pass back out going limp. The last thing you heard was the tired firefighter yelling at someone, maybe you?

You woke up again this time to the feeling of something plastic on your face. Opening your eyes was still a bit too much for you so you listened and tried to figure out what was going on. You vaguely remember the tired voice you had spoken to before you felt light headed and the feeling of being carried. As you listened you could make out the sounds of machines. Slowly you took stock of your body. You were sore and kinda warm but you could move a little bit. You breathed deeply, finally realizing that the plastic was an oxygen tube. You were definitely in the hospital then. After a few more minutes your eyes were in good enough condition that you opened them to look around the room. When you did you saw someone slumped in the chair in the corner. This was incredibly strange since you had no family in this town. Doing your best you cleared your throat preparing to ask who they were. At your sound the person's head shot up, eyes wide. 

It was a man with tired eyes and long black hair that was on the scruffy side; it easily matched the stubble of a beard on his chin and cheeks. He stood up definitely tall enough to tower over you even when you were standing up yourself. The man walked to your bedside and took a deep breath before speaking. 

"It's good to see you awake little one. I was beginning to think you weren't going to wake up. I'm the firefighter you spoke to asking for help when you were on the roof. I have a lot to explain to you but I'm gonna call the doctor in and have them look you over before anything else."

He called out into the hall after that and a doctor and a nurse bustled into the room within minutes. Your throat was too dry to answer their questions so you stuck to little nods and head shakes as they began to check your vitals and adjust your iv drip. Once they were sure you were stable enough you were once again left with your savior and no voice to thank him with. He came closer and pulled the chair along with him to settle in for your conversation. 

"So you've been out of it for about 3 days. You got sunstroke while you were on the roof and your boss had double locked the door to get in and the door to the roof which slowed us down in getting to you. Your boss and his wife and your 2 coworkers have all been arrested. It was your boss's idea though apparently he kept hitting on you but you didn't give him the time of day so he wanted to teach you a lesson. His wife had your name flagged so that if you had called for help it would have given a dispatcher a notification to ignore you as a false reporter. His wife found out about his interest in you and was planning on making sure you were stuck on that roof all night. Your coworkers just went along with it because they didn't want to deal with your boss's anger."

Hearing all this pissed you off beyond belief. They could have killed you all because you would be a man's mistress and the man's wife would rather hurt someone than confront her husband. He looked at your face and patted your knee knowing there was nothing he could say that would make you feel any better about this. You looked up at him and grabbed his hand and brought it to your forehead, touching his knuckles there before placing a kiss on them. You were kind of happy that you couldn't really talk just yet because the blush on this man's cheeks was well worth the dry throat. He poured you a cup of water and handed it to you. You gave him a small smile and drank it gratefully. 

Eventually you could speak some and the two of you formally introduced yourselves. He was Shouta Aizawa, the fire station chief and local fire safety instructor for this area. He hadn't felt right leaving you alone after he had gotten you off the roof and found that you lived alone in this town. He came off very blunt and serious but you could see his deep kindness in his actions. The doctors came back in, cutting your conversation short and making Shouta go back to his spot in the corner. After a few more checks the doctors cleared you to go home the following day as long as you had someone to watch over you for the next three days till your follow up appointment was. You frowned cause you did have any close friends who could do that for you. As you pondered over it you heard Shouta's voice over the doctor's. 

"If you don't have a problem I can have you stay over in the guestroom at my house. I was already on a temp leave due to watching over you here so it wouldn't be much different with you at my house."

This man with a deep whiskey voice truly had a heart of gold. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth you readily agreed. After you had been up a few more hours and had a little bit to eat, Shouta left with the promise of a freshly cleaned room waiting for you tomorrow. You fell asleep that night feeling more cared for than you ever truly had. You woke up again slightly disoriented and thirsty but in much better condition than you had been the day prior. It was early so you took your time shaking the numbness out of your limbs and getting back your bearings. The nurse came in fussing about you standing with calling anyone to be a catcher for you. She stopped fussing though when she realized that you were indeed stable enough to walk to the bathroom alone. 

Shouta had called the nurses station around 10 to let them know he'd be there by 12. With a few puppy dog looks you had a shower chair and an orderly who helped wash your hair and walk you back to bed. They had given you some hospital pajamas that you happily wore instead of the ugly gowns you had woken up in. You were clean and relaxed by the time Shouta had arrived to sign you out of the hospital. A nurse came around with a wheelchair and wheeled you down to the exit while the car was brought around. Shouta opened the door for the backseat but instead of giving you a hand to climb in he leaned down and scooped you out of the chair. Once you had been sat comfortably on the seat he shut the door leaving you with a moment to appreciate just how strong his arms were.

The drive to Shouta's home was relatively quick as is the way of small towns. His house was nice and seemed to be a cozy ranch style. After pulling into the garage you tried to get out yourself only to be caught up against a hard chest as your legs gave out the moment they were made to take your full weight. You looked up to see an exasperated glare. Part of your brain filled with chastised thoughts as the other filled with dirty thoughts. You really had to be better behaved when It came to your savior and benefactor but with him being so sinfully attractive it was kinda hard to do. Once again you were carried by the tired man this time into his home and deposited on the lone couch in his living room. He sat on his coffee table and faced you with a sigh. 

"You're really gonna have to rely on me for a few days brat. Your body is trying to heal and you pushing it as you just did isn't doing the process any favors."

You sighed and agreed with him. After a short conversation about a few things you might need from the store and checking about any food allergies he got ready and  headed to the store. You sat alone watching tv before clicking into his YouTube app to see what he watched most. A loud laugh burst from your chest as you realized that most of his watch history was full of cat videos and a few interviews with a local late night radio host. You watched the radio hosts videos thoroughly entertained by his boisterous personality. The next thing you knew you were being shaken awake by Shouta having fallen asleep with videos still playing on the tv. He helped you up and walked you to the bathroom and waited outside before scooping you up yet again. He was making it so damn hard not to think dirty thoughts when he kept carrying you around as if you were a small animal or something. Like sir the butterflies are in the stomach now but they will quickly fly south if you keep being so quietly sexy. A few hours later you were lying in bed when your thoughts finally got the best of you and had you touching your pussy as images of Shouta glaring down at you with his arms crossed showed behind your eyelids.

You had no idea how loud you were being as you rubbed your clit harshly, trying to get to the finish line. As you came you choked out his name. While you panted and came down from your high Shouta made his way back to his room quietly. He leaned back against his door and made a call before laying in his bed to jerk his very hard, very neglected cock. His brain kept replaying the sounds you made, the way you choked out his name as you came, how a satisfied little smile curled on your lips after you reached the finish line. He came with a growl, satisfied but not. He was definitely going to end up in trouble by the end of the week and he couldn't find it in himself to care. The following two days followed the same pattern, spending the day together and spending the night getting off to thoughts of the other in separate rooms. Though you were surprised to find that Shouta regularly walked around the house in nothing but sweatpants holding a full mug of coffee. On the fourth day you had become well enough to no longer need to be carried or walked everywhere. You were a little confused by Shouta's attitude as he had been glaring at the space above your head for most of the day. Finally tired of him doing this, you confronted him about it. You were not expecting his answer in the slightest. 

"I've spent the last three nights hearing you play with your pussy while calling my name, I'm hard enough to hammer nails and I can't get out any over this energy cause I'm supposed to be watching out for you. All I wanna do is fuck you till you lose your mind. me glaring above your head has been me doing my best not to seduce you like an asshole."

He said everything in such a deadpan manner that you couldn't help but laugh. Once you caught your breath you grinned at him and pulled your shirt off over your head. Sitting on his couch with your tits hanging free and your nipples hardening in the cool air you proceeded to play with them. You were immediately picked up and taken to his room before being dropped on the bed. Never let it be said that the tired man couldn't move fast as you were stripped of your remaining clothes before he stripped himself bare. He pulled you to the edge of his bed by your ankles and dropped to his knees, a fierce smile on his lips. 

"Been wanting to taste this bratty pussy for days. Bet it's as sweet as it looks."

His first lick was long. From your hole all the way over your clit. The squeak you let out at the feeling only made him more hungry. He spent what felt like an endless amount of time licking and thrusting his tongue as deep into your pussy as he could. By the time he finally gave your clit some much needed attention his chin was covered in pussy juice and your hole was fluttering as if it was seeking to be filled. Shouta teased you with a few small licks over your clit, making you whine and beg him to give you more. His arms wrapped around your thighs as he locked eyes with you and sucked your clit into his mouth. He sucked hard making you scream and thrash wildly. Your hands were buried in his hair as you squirted into his mouth. Your hips only stayed on the bed because of his strong arms keeping you in place. When he finally released your clit pussy juice was steadily leaking from your still twitching hole. 

"Oh did I break you already? You were so bold before and now you're just a mess. Think you can take my cock or do you want me to tuck you in for a nap."

The shit eating grin on his face was enough for you to pull his hair and glare at him. He sat up and shoved your wrists above your head to hold in one of his large hands. Slowly he worked his fat dripping cock into your almost too tight pussy. You whined and moaned his name as he finally bottomed out hitting your back wall. He stretched you more than you ever had been before but it was so damn good. Shouta started slow, one hand gripping your thigh as he ignored your demands for him to speed up.

"You're gonna take what I give you like a good girl or I'll just pull out and cum all over you right now."

That shut you up except for the constant stream of moans that left your throat. Just as you were finally getting used to being split by such a thick cock he changed his rhythm. Fast pounding thrusts that knocked the breath from your lungs were nearly constant. You didn't have enough breath to scream so you sobbed. Your half words were incoherent except for "sho please." Shouta leaned down and whispered in your ear as his thrusts once again spread up. He bit your ear lobe before making you lose your mind. 

"Such a tight little hole. I can't believe I had the strength to ignore it for three days. I could have at least eaten it while you laid back and rested. God I'm gonna have you for breakfast tomorrow." 

The utter heat in his words threw you over the edge making you cum so hard you began to shake. He growled as your pussy clenched down on him. Shouta sunk his teeth into the pillow by your head before shoving his cock against your cervix and shooting his cum against it. As soon as he finished cuming he started to thrust again. No slow start this time, just hard pounding thrusts that made you wail in pleasure. It didn't take long for you to cum again but Shouta lasted longer this time entirely fucking his cum out of you before finally cuming inside again just as deep as the first time. 

He pulled out and laid down next to you before pulling you on to his chest. You both panted trying to breathe like normal human beings again. Right as your breathing evened out you heard a voice from the doorway. And looked up to see the blonde radio host trailing his eyes over the two of you.

"I told you you wouldn't make it till I got home sho."

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