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spyder-junkie · 10 months

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EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X READER PART 2

part three ??

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Honestly the death of his father traumatized Miles.

It taught him to hold on to the things he loves, things that make him happy, because nothing is forever.

And honestly he was looking for something to fill his father’s void, something to satisfy the itch being prowler couldn’t scratch.

So not even two days later, Miles shows up at you window.

He wanted to scope you out, see if you were something he’s like to spend his time on.

With any person hes ever thought of pursuing, the thought of having to tell them hes Prowler loomed over his shoulder.

But you already knew.

Hes dressed normally this time, and hes come at a reasonable hour.

You smile when you see him, opening the window immediately for him to crawl in.

“I aint’ catch you name.” is the first thing he says, dusting off his jeans.

“Y/n.” You reply, sitting down at your desk.

“What can I help you with, Miles?”

He pauses for a moment, almost forgetting what excuse he came up with.

“Check my wounds for me? You wrapped ‘em so well ian wanna unwrap em.” He says, face calm.

You look at him for a moment before shrugging.

“bien, siéntate.” You mumble, going to grab your first aid kit.

“You speak spanish?” Miles asks, sitting down on your bed and pulling his shirt from his body.

The big gash on his side is covered in bandages, blood stained.

“A little, I take a class at school.” You smile, bending down infront of him. He spreads his knees, letting you settle onto the ground infront of him.

He shuts his eyes tight as you unwrap the bandage.

“Thats a pretty chain.” You mumbled, using a cottonball to dab at the wound.

Miles’ hands come to to touch the chain hes wearing. It was one of the many things he half-hazardly bought with his work money.

“Where’d you get it? Ive been looking for something similar.” You ask.

“I honestly can’t remember.” He mumbles, from his tone you could only assume he was telling the truth.

“Thats okay, anyway Youre all good.” You say just finishing his bandages, standing up and putting your things away.

“Oh.” Miles mumbles, not realizing how little time that would take you.

“Anything else I can help you with, Prowler?” He shivers at the way the name rolls off your tongue.

“Guess not.” He says, standing up and walking towards the window. His hands are in his pockets.

He leaves, climbing back out your window and disappearing past the block.

After two days a package shows up at your door.

When you open it, you realize its a chain, identical to Miles’ and brand new.

You giggle a little while clasping it around your neck.

You dont see Miles again for two weeks.

“You know we can just schedule meet ups instead of you showing up to my window at night.” You say, watching as Miles in his normal clothes climbs out if the darkness and into your room.

He ignores your statement, taking his shoes and jacket off and sitting at your desk. He leans back, legs spread wide and eyes closed.

You shake you head, sitting down on your bed and facing him.

“Whats troubling you?” You ask.

“Nothing important.” He says quickly. He opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Youre wearing the chain.” He mumbles.

“Yeah.” You reach up and touch it. “It’s really nice, I thought you didn’t know where you got it from.”

Miles shrugs

“How much was it? I can pay you back-“

“Eres Bonita, you shouldnt have to pay for your own shit.” He cuts you off.

You pause.

“Thank you.” You smile, looking at his hard expression, he nods.

Its silent for a while, Miles just recollecting with his eyes closed.

“Youve been with the cops yet?” He asks calmly. The question startles you.

“…excuse me?”

“You got my name, you know my face, you could rat me out n’ get that reward money.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you.

“is that…what you want me to do..?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.

“Im asking why you haven’t already.” He stated.

“Oh. because I dont want to.”

Miles furrowed his eyebrows.

“I like you, Miles. Plus you helped me out when I needed you. What you do as the prowler doesn’t really concern me.” You say.

Miles stares at you a bit longer, gears turning in his head.

“You can believe me, Im not lying. Now its late, and I am kind of tired. Stay if you want, but my dad usually pops in at 7 to say hes leaving for work.” You say, moving the covers so you could properly get into bed.

You look over at Miles, whos still sitting quietly at you desk.

You lock eyes with him, holding out your hand.

He stares for a while longer, before slowly getting up and sitting on your bed.

He doesn’t get under the coveres, opting to sit with his back against the headboard. He lets you curl up besides him, laying your head in his lap.

His hand ghosts over your shoulder, rubbing soft circles with his thumb as your eyes close.

“Goodnight Miles.”

“…..goodnight y/n.”

When your father wakes you up the next morning as hes leaving, the bed is empty and Miles is gone.

You rub your eyes a little bit, looking to see if he left anything behind.

On your bedside table there was another note.

“ maybe we should schedule meet ups. xxx-xxx-xxxx -miles”

You smile to yourself, immediately putting his number in your phone.

tags:

@caffeine-mess @arachnenotes @erensbbg @nightshxdex @el-chiste @3alvatore @sh-tposter2021 @miatjie @agstuffsworld @ella34435 @iluvdi0r @pulling-out-my-eyes @vakiui @bigpepperpicker @swaggybae @tsukisaiki @osebb

#spider man: across the spider verse #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles

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villainousauthor · 3 months

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The hero wrinkles their nose at smell of antiseptic wipes, at the cold feel against their skin, as the villain prepares to draw more blood. They've lost count how many vials Villain has taken at this point.

Hero winces, trying to flinch away at the inevitable sharp pinch, and Villain digs their fingers into their arm some more. They press hard, cold hands keeping them still. "If I mess up, I'll have to stick you again." They warn, voice level. Paper crinkles under where Hero sits, the soft sound filling the silence.

Hero keeps their gaze downward, the bright florescent lights over head giving them a headache. You think with how long they've been here, they would have gotten used to the ugly, artificial glare, but they miss the sun.

They look up at Villain through their lashes, who's currently too focused on their current task to notice, eyebrows pinched together as they seem deep in thought.

"I doubt you're even certified to be drawing blood in the first place." Hero ribs, voice quiet, the words light but the humor just quite not there.

Villain snorts, as they finish and pull the IV out gently. "I've seemed to be able to do it fine all these weeks." They apply the cotton bandage to the area, securing it in place, though it's honestly not necessary, the small wound already likely healed.

Hero knows they shouldn't be trying to make Villain laugh, or trying to lighten the tense air that surrounds their every interaction. They should be attempting to escape, should be fighting tooth and nail against the strange experiments their arch nemesis insists on trying, but so many failed escapes and so many weeks without the presence of any other person has them weak for any human contact they can get.

They've almost begun to mistake the way Villain grabs their arm when taking blood, the way Villain's cold hand holds their face still when swabbing their mouth, the way they stand close when checking their vitals, as misplaced forms of affection.

It's pure delusion, Hero knows this, but they crave another persons touch so much they can almost believe it. Thinking about it too much makes their head hurt more than even the obnoxious overhead lights do.

Villain takes their silence as a sign to continue speaking. "Soon enough, I'll find the secret behind how your regenerative abilities work and then I'll be unstoppable." They say cleaning up, and placing the three tubes of blood they took on the tray to their left. Hero's head swirls as they watch the swishing of the dark red liquid.

Facing them again, still standing close, Villain's eyes finally meet Hero's and their voice softens slightly when they say this next part. "I won't have to poke and prod you so much when I do." Their voice is gentle enough that Hero wants to believe them, to trust them.

Hero licks their dry lips, voice cracking slightly. "Will...will you finally let me go once you do?" The question Hero has been avoiding asking this whole time.

The question gives Villain pause, as they seem to consider it for a moment. They step closer, placing their hands on either side of where Hero sits, bracketing them in. "I could...I probably should.." Villain's voice is whisper quiet as they stand inches away, breath fanning over Hero's ear.

"But I think prefer keeping you for myself."

#hero x villain #villain x hero #villain #dialogue prompt #writing prompt #hero #original writing #hero prompt #prompts #villain prompt #superhero #whump #sorta? i consider this to be somewhat whumpy #whump prompt #writing #villains and heroes #heroes and villains

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

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omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.”

It was just a kiss.

“Green Four check.”

It was just a-

“Green Five check.”

Just a-

“Green Six check.”

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.”

It wasn’t just a kiss.

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron.

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad.

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons.

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne.

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure.

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide.

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them.

Simple.

In theory.

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy.

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going?

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice.

You swallow.

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart.

I hadn’t just been a kiss.

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline.

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that.

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead.

It made a lot more sense.

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own.

They had always been close. Always. Best friends.

Sickness bubbled in your throat.

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it.

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander.

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?”

Hank chortled.

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist.

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you.

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?”

Yeah. Now you had.

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains.

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet.

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter.

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch.

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss.

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence.

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons.

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands.

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next.

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?”

“Yeah?”

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed.

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.”

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname.

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you.

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.”

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on.

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal.

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay.

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures.

“Fuck.”

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled.

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!”

“How far away is the Delta?”

“Calling in attack pattern!”

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game.

That didn’t bode well.

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction.

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on.

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!”

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process.

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?”

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down.

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard.

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns.

Good.

But there’s so, so many of them.

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems.

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together.

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing.

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear.

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through.

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on.

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter.

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home.

Frizz.

“No…”

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal.

Nothing.

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz.

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes.

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist.

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity.

All you need is…

Another alarm.

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!”

A chorus of yells answer you.

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely.

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard.

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot.

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist.

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected.

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons.

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull.

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it.

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact.

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell.

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire.

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational.

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on.

Two chances left.

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits.

Poe shouts for you over the intercom.

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will.

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call.

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit.

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it.

The canon doesn’t go down.

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him.

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do.

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down.

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out-

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream.

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain.

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob.

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit.

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it.

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide.

Make it look like you had a weapon.

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning.

Can’t let them take you alive.

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down.

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot.

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue.

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear.

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds.

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use.

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back.

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good.

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?”

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper.

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-”

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.”

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe.

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.”

You snort.

He smiles.

“Who did we lose?”

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment.

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red.

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages.

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes.

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.”

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away.

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?”

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.”

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?”

You nod.

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart.

“You pushed her away?”

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…”

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.”

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes.

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head.

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating.

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly.

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.”

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight.

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins.

You scoff.

“You are.” He kisses you again.

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home.

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.”

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.”

You touch his cheek lightly.

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?”

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.”

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper.

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance.

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted.

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#poe dameron #star wars sequels #poe dameron x reader #x reader #poe dameron x you #x you #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #poe dameron x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months

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𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 1,529

Warnings | +18, detailed descriptions of punishment, spanking, Jungkook is obsessed and angry, smut dubcon(?), fingering, male masturbation, forced cum consumption

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | Fifth chapter ready! Let me know what you think of the story or if you would like to be added to the taglist, i would be really happy!

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

It had been exactly four days, Y/N had been locked in that room crying, eating what she had to eat so as not to upset Jungkook, but the sadness and disgust were still there. She still couldn't tell if it was for him or for herself. He spent those nights as tense as a violin string, going to work during the day and hermetically locking the front door, and at night he heard her crying and that upset him. But he had factored that in as well, Jimin had explained to him how the first few days had gone. "It's going to be hard, but if you love her you'll have to put up with it," the blond man in the principal's office had told him, while Seokjin just listened, typing occasionally on his phone. "I hate to see her so dejected, I'm the cause and that hurts me," he had hissed with his head clenched in his hands, Jimin had denied it with his head, totally frosty. "You are just too sensitive, she has to get used to a new way of life and certain reactions are more than normal, my wife had tried to kill me if you remember well, so consider yourself lucky," he scolded him. "Besides," Seokjin exclaimed, "her parents reported her missing and everyone thinks something happened to her, even the neighborhood she lived in was a good cover, don't think of stopping just now." Jungkook nodded, before freezing.

"What about Kang Yoozu?" he asked, threateningly. Jimin let go of an icy smile, "You don't have to worry about him anymore, with the material you provided me, there will be fun to be had." A few days later, Jungkook understood his friend's words, it was all over the news that Kang Yoozu, age twenty-three, had kidnapped and most likely tortured the now missing Y/N. It had only taken a few rumors put out there and a lock of the girl's hair found in the student's backpack to set off alarm bells. Jungkook thought Jimin had done a masterful job; everyone knew about Yoozu's bullying of Y/N, and as Jungkook had said at the beginning, it was those like Yoozu who had no loyal friends.

At the dinner table that evening, Jungkook avoided turning on the television, not wanting the girl to see anything inherent in her disappearance; she seemed upset enough to the boy, so he asked her how she felt. "Like someone who hasn't seen the light of day for almost a week," she hissed, listlessly moving the contents of her plate. "When I'm sure I can trust you, I'll take you for walks," he tried to appease her, but at those words Y/N huffed blatantly, which the man did not like. "Y/N." "Jungkook?" she wryly made, openly challenging him after days of unexpressed discontent, "I'm not even allowed to complain, professor?" The ass-grabbing behind that title pissed him off, and he jerked out of his chair and marched toward her with an expression that was anything but sweet and patient, as it had always been until moments before. Y/N caught the danger signal and tried to evade him, but Jungkook was quicker and caught her lifting her off the ground as if she had been a feather, at which point the girl screamed and full-throated, kicking in his direction, intimidating him to put her down, terrified by the man's sudden change.

Jungkook was not frightened by her hysterical threats, after all, there were not even neighbors who could hear them, and he flung her onto the living room sofa, the girl ended up between the cushions on all fours, tried to get up so she could stare openly into his eyes, but Jungkook imposed that position on her by crushing her with his own weight, in fear she felt the young man's hands lift the fabric of the skirt he had given her that day, she tried to crawl away, but once again she was blocked by him, a strong hand of the man held her head still against the cushions. She shuddered in shock when her panties were also brutally lowered onto her thighs, she felt so much embarrassment that she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to extricate herself. "Rule number one, Y/N, don't ever use that tone with me," he hissed furiously, before his free hand came down on a soft buttock of the young woman, who squealed in shock and pain at the searing lash, the dry sound lost in the room along with her voice.

Jungkook settled down better behind her, taking sadistic pleasure in seeing his imprint getting darker and darker on her tender and delicate skin, "Rule number two, finish your meal without complaining like a naughty and rude child," he hit the same area of skin with an even more deafening spanking than the previous one, the girl wriggled in tears under his body, Jungkook felt the blood run miles through his veins, his cock now throbbing in his pants at that fantastic sight. Adrenaline raced through his body, painfully clutching Y/N's hair in its hard grip. "Rule number three, never question what I say to you in that insolent way!" he continued to hit her repeatedly on the other side as well, ignoring the tears now soaking the cushions of his couch or the girl's constant attempt to slip away from his blows, writhing. He stopped only when the girl began to give in, begging him to stop. "P-Please stop!" she screamed against the fabric of the cushions, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll be good, I won't misbehave anymore," she continued, Jungkook pulled away slightly, watching with hungry eyes the buttocks now red and irritated by his punishing blows, the girl's body trembling, shaken by sobs and whimpers.

"Ah..." he sighed, "My love," he murmured bending over her, tenderly kissing the skin now burned and alive with pain, the girl tried to block her sobs, feeling only more discomfort at the boy's attentions, who not content left a long trail of saliva from the abused area to the column of her back, stopping shortly after at a corner of her neck, Y/N shuddered, feeling him push the covered cock against her buttocks which, if possible, burned even more. Jungkook sucked and bit the skin of her neck expertly, Y/N did not have the strength to evade, not even when one of the man's hands descended on her pussy . "Since you get it... you deserve a reward, don't you?" he highlighted those sick words of his with another thrust of his pelvis, "I'm going to make you feel so good, love," he moaned, running two fingers along the folds of the girl, who widened her eyes at the same time Jungkook did, finding her soaking and quivering, "Fuck. .. you liked it," he laughed surprised, Y/N instead wanted to disappear, tried to stop her moans by sealing her lips, shocked by that new realization, but she tensed at the rhythmic and insistent movement of the fingers around her taut and shiny clitoris, no ... it couldn't be true.

She could not feel pleasure at such a time, with such a boy! But her body thought otherwise when the man's fingers tapped on her clitoris, which contracted and forced the girl's hips to push against the young man's hand involuntarily, seeking a more direct and steady touch. She opened her mouth wide for air, but was only able to gasp for breath, only causing Jungkook to increase the speed of his intimate caresses, reaching up to penetrate her lightly with the tip of his fingertips, Y/N stiffened writhing wordlessly, her brain now mush thinking only of finding more friction, which Jungkook granted her with a kiss in her hair, slipping his fingers from her tight slit to move up toward her clit, rubbing on the now overly sensitive pearl, he expertly pinched one last time before and Y/N let out a choked scream that confirmed her orgasm, which continued to shake her body for endless minutes. Now almost fainting in his arms, Jungkook turned her body over, lost himself in looking at her distraught face before glancing at her soaked red intimacy, biting his lip, god he couldn't take it anymore.

He began to unbuckle the belt from his pants, releasing the thick, throbbing cock without lowering anything else, reached up to the young girl's tear- and saliva-wet lips, running the already wet tip of white, shiny cum over them, cupped his hand several times over the velvety, warm skin of his cock, continued to pump himself, moaning loudly, he accompanied the gestures with sloppy, slick movements of his hips, Y/N barely registered the boy's actions, too shocked by what had happened, a choked scream escaped her throat as a warm, foreign-tasting substance poured onto her face and hair, a few drops managed to enter her mouth as well, only later did she realize what it was. Jungkook slipped two fingers into her mouth, filling her with his cum, forcing it to the back of her throat, which made the girl swallow for air. "My beautiful girl is also a perfect slut for my cock."

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #bts yandere smut #yandere bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere #yandere jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

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fairyhaos · 11 months

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how seventeen take care of their sick s/o

requested by @cinnamoroxie : "agh i think ive been getting sick 😭 could u write svt w a sick reader / or just a reader w a sore throat and cant speak w out it hurting pls? love u hope youre doing well "

notes: i :(((( want :((( a joshua :((((

masterlist

seungcheol:

cancels all your plans for the rest of the day when you wake up in the morning barely able to speak. won't let you protest, saying that you need to prioritise your health okay bc these people you're meeting aren't as important to him as you are. if you've just got a sniffly nose n sore throat, he'll let you sleep on him but if you're coughing n sneezing everywhere then sorry, he loves you but maybe stay away from him for a few days?

jeonghan:

will do everything for you. even tho he doesn't have the loudest voice, he'll try his hardest to yell over the other members to get them to quieten down so he can listen to your hoarse whispers n get you whatever you need <3 gives you so many cough drops that you constantly have one in your mouth the entire time. you can taste them still on your tongue for like a day after you feel better

joshua:

gives you head massages if you have a headache, makes you honey tea if your throat hurts, always has tissues on hand if your nose is running. The Best™ at looking after you. won't leave your side, even if you're spraying germs everywhere, and he has a cold that lasts for three weeks by the end of it, but you're happy and healthy n that's all that matters to him

junhui:

kind of a fluttery mess when you get sick, doesn't rlly know what to do. pats your head constantly, asking if you're okay, and swaddles you in blankets. also gives you so many painkillers and antibiotics bc he doesn't Know what else to do okay and please you sound so terrible n croaky pls take this medicine bc it's meant to make you better and he hates when you're ill :((

hoshi:

coos and baby talks to you when you're sick and a blocked nose mess. speaks in a whisper back to you if you have a sore throat and can barely speak, makes those canned soups for you and spoon feeds it to you. he's a messy feeder tho, n most of it gets around your mouth but he wipes it away vv gently afterwards. hoshi is probably so, so soft when taking care of someone when they're sick tbh <3

wonwoo:

accompanies you everywhere you go. insists you lie down and sleep but if you don't, then he's hovering around you like a concerned mother to make sure you don't overdo it. tells everyone you meet that you have a sore throat and so you can't speak, and Will drag you away if you start coughing too hard, scolding you lightly and pulling a scarf out of nowhere to wrap around your neck

woozi:

wants to take time off working so bad to help take care of you but he rlly can't </3 sets medicine and a glass of water on the table for you to take in the morning, regularly calls you (or texts, if you can't speak) to see how you're doing. checks up on you at night, smiles and kisses you on the forehead if you wake up and blearily murmur his name. he's busy, but he'll still make time to be soft for you

minghao:

always has tissues. and hand sanitizer. and cough drops. and paracetamol. has literally everything, really. says well done and pats your head when you drain a whole glass of water while swallowing the medicine, bc drinking water and flushing out toxins is the best way to get rid of an illness. another person who baby talks you if you're all sick n pouty

mingyu:

makes soup. makes tea. forces both liquids down your throat even if you complain bc it's good for you and he spent so much of his precious time making it for you how dare you try and refuse???? it definitely helps with your sore throat the next day, though, and he looks so smug as he ladles you another bowl of soup to have in the morning.

dokyeom:

almost starts crying when you tell him u have a sore throat through barely-there whispers bc the pain :((( of not being able to speak :((( that breaks his heart to think about. knows the struggles of runny noses So Well, whips out a tissue and presents it in front of your face if you so much as sniffle quietly. hugs you the entire time, wakes up the next morning with a sore throat and then Actually starts crying

seungkwan:

your personal megaphone whenever you're sick and can't speak. yells at the other members to shut up and listen when you have something to say, and then repeats what you whisper in his rlly loud voice. won't let you have meds (they are!! the demon's pills!!!!) but learns from mingyu how to make rlly good chicken broth for you

vernon:

gets so sad for u when you croak out to him that you can't speak bc your throat hurts so bad. makes you gargle with salt water after brushing your teeth bc it helps disinfect your throat (this is true actually n it really helps). randomly holds his hand to your forehead to check your temperature, but he can never tell if you're running hot or if it's just him

chan:

is all "oh no you're sick :(((( that's terrible also pls don't come too close to me" but pulls you in for a hug immediately if you even vaguely hint at wanting one. googles if throat massages are a thing when you tell him you can't speak bc it hurts, gives you lemon honey tea bc he finds out that helps. kinda ends up massaging your throat? his hands are always warm and they feel nice when placed on your neck

request guidelines

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cheeriecherrymain · 8 months

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papa!Viktor blurb, anyone?

A/N: slowly, slowly, recovering from the creative drought ive been in

it's nowhere near a waterfall again, more like a frustrating dribble, BUT. It's something. But anyways, here is a Papa Viktor Thought Blurb (listen, my sister is almost three months old now, and I am so besotted with her, she's my favourite tiny person, and i am full of Caretaker Feelings)

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI (not explicit, but very very suggestive), afab!Reader, pregnancy, labour and birth (again, not explicit, but still with some depth), papa!Viktor, no beta no editing we simply die

Imagine Viktor, and him believing he'll be alone for his entire life - working so hard to make some kind of legacy for himself, putting everything he has into his creations and his machines. Every calculation, every experiment a labour of love.

This is how the world will remember his name.

At least, he hopes.

But then he meets you.

You're charming, he has to admit. You make friends wherever you go, and you have a weird habit of bringing people out of their shells. There's just...something about you that makes others want to bare their souls to you. Something that draws people in.

Like you have a tangible sort of gravity, and wherever you go, someone ends up in your orbit.

He won't mean much to you, he thinks, after conversing with you a couple times. You're creative, like he is, and you're enjoyable to talk to. But nothing more. Sooner or later, you'll continue on somewhere else, making waves and drawing attention. And in your wake, he will be left to sink. It's what expects.

Except...

You don't leave.

Your chats start out small. Short and sweet, a How are you today? wondered whenever you pass each other in the halls a couple times a month, curious about the goings-on of his life.

He never has anything interesting to tell you about. No adventures or tales to tell, nothing beyond the walls of a cramped and cluttered office.

You must be bored, he thinks.

But then you start seeking him out. Instead of just catching up for a couple minutes whenever you happen to walk past each other, you hunt him down in his office - and god, he wasn't lying when he'd told you it was cramped.

You're amazed he even has the space to think in there, with how tight it is. Yet you still shimmy yourself into the tiny room, careful not to disturb any piles of papers, and find a careful seat on a spot of open floor beside his desk. There's no room for a second chair, and you've always made it clear that you dislike standing when you're having a long conversation.

It's nice to sit down and rest somewhere together, you'd told him one time.

You grow closer after that. From seeing him a couple times a month, to a couple times a week, to literally every day. You don't seem to care that he never has anything 'exciting' to share with you, even going so far as to chastise him for calling himself uninteresting.

Your experiments are cool, you'd insisted, while leafing through one of his old journals. It's incredible to get to see how your mind works, and how creative and inventive you are. You have so many ideas, Viktor, and I really believe that they could help people.

Something changes in him, after that. He'd always been quieter around you, listening to your stories, and dutifully answering your questions: never quite letting you in.

Now he looks forward to seeing you.

His heart skips a beat every time he hears you knocking on his office door, a chipper little pattern reserved only for him. You know that he doesn't always like dealing with students after hours, so you'd come up with a way to let him know that it was you who was greeting him.

Things progress...surprisingly natural.

He's not subtle by any means, even if he thinks he is. The moment he realizes that he has feelings for you, all bets are off. His cheeks dust pink whenever you're around, his palms get sweaty and he fidgets, and the staring.

Looking at you with ill-contained admiration and affection.

You can't not kiss him.

You spend the next couple years having the time of your lives. Moving from classes and overbearing internships, to actively working on experiments. Collaborating with each other, drawing up ideas and debating functionality and form. The two of you get so heated when you're creating things together.

Neither of you are surprised when it devolves. Wide gestures and hasty chalkboard sketches, impassioned explanations and wild eyes - you bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over him, in all his dishevelled beauty. Hair a mess, tie crooked and loose, shirt partially unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Many nights are spent like that, cooped up in his little laboratory, surrounded by sketches and blueprints and scribbles and stray notes. His fingertips digging into the soft of your skin as he kisses the breath out of you. The rhythmic clunking of his crooked desk most telling, as he draws forth your little squeaks and sighs of delight.

Absolutely ruining you, filling you, stretching you open. Feeling the way you tremble in his hands, held tight to his slender body as he reaches so deep into you that you'll feel him for days.

Sinking his teeth into the side of your neck when he finds his own release - to stay quiet, he tells you. But you both know it's his way of marking you.

Claiming you.

You're his. You're his person, his love, his partner. Your eyes only ever shine the way they do when you look at him.

Your body, splayed out and spread before him, quivering and gasping and covered in a thin sheen of sweat - his.

Your taste, sweet on his tongue - your mouth, your skin, your arousal that drips out of you whenever he so much as looks at you.

His.

And he knows, without a single atom of doubt, that he's also yours. So entirely entangled with each other, neither of you knowing how you'd managed to exist separately before now.

How had you possibly found beauty in every day, when you'd never heard his voice? Never caught a whiff of his sweet shampoo as he ambled past you? Never felt the warmth of his touch, or the puff of his sighs on your cheek? Never known the tickle of his hair on your bare skin as you slowly woke every morning to find him curled around you, his face smashed into your back and soft snores emanating from him?

No matter, you think. You have him now, and that's what's important.

...until everything changes.

You miss a period.

You tell him about it.

You're both on edge, but he tries to remain optimistic. Cycles can be upset sometimes, he tells you, as if you don't already know. (You're certain he's really just trying to reassure himself.)

But deep down, you know.

You can feel it in the all-encompassing tiredness you wake with every morning. In the random bouts of nausea, and the sudden food aversions. The back aches, and all the sudden new smells you can detect.

You know something is amiss.

And he knows, too, when he finds you one time in the middle of the night. Standing in your shared little kitchen, in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the open refrigerator.

Pulling pickles straight out of the jar, dipping them in mayonnaise, and sinking your teeth into them. Like they were to most delectable thing you'd ever ingested.

You're both terrified, of course.

You're not really surprised that you've managed to fall pregnant - not with the way you two lust after each other practically every night, and sometimes in the morning. Maybe even once or twice in between meetings, when you're both squished together in his compact office.

Neither of you ever thought you'd become parents.

And certainly not right now.

But...you want this, you realize. You want this with him. You want a family with him, you want the evidence of your love - you want a future with him, and you want to see what beautiful little person you'll make together.

Would they have his eyes? Yours? He hopes they have your smile, he tells you, eventually.

It takes you by surprise, his words, what with how quiet he'd been since you'd both figured everything out. You'd been worrying that he wasn't really on board with keeping the baby - with being a father. And you hadn't blamed him, really.

You'd been beyond stressed at the idea of raising a child alone. The thought of him leaving you, leaving behind something so intrinsically tied to him, had been slowly breaking your heart. You hadn't wanted him to stay simply out of obligation - you know you wouldn't be able to cope with the eventual resentment that such an action would breed.

But to know for certain now that he'd only been anxious?

That he wanted this with you, and was excited?

You're so happy that you immediately burst into tears, squeaking and sniffling and snotting uncontrollably while Viktor bites back a laugh and herds you into his embrace. Stroking your back and murmuring the sweetest things to you while you try to catch your breath, leaving gentle kisses all over your face.

Telling you all about what kind of person he hoped your little one would be.

Your smile, most certainly, he said, resolute. You have the most beautiful smile. You light up the room wherever you go. Maybe your sense of humour, too. And certainly your compassion.

Your tears slowly began to lessen, as you let yourself be lulled by the comfort of his arms around you.

Your hair, though, you insist, smushing your face into his shirt. You look so pretty in the mornings, all fluffed up and in disarray. It's the cutest shit I've ever seen.

That garners a laugh from him.

I want them to have your eyes, as well, you admit, albeit somewhat shyly. I've never seen a colour like yours, so intense and complex. Way back when we first met, and you looked at me for the very first time? I almost lost the ability to breathe. It was...it was like I knew, right then. That you were the person I wanted to spend my life with.

He squeezes you a little bit tighter, stooping down to tenderly slot your lips together. Slow, lazy, intimate. Sharing breath and warmth and love and-

He takes you again.

Right there, in the dim quiet of his office, not seeming to care if anyone passing by in the hallway might hear you. Spoiling you absolutely rotten, speaking praises against your skin as he brings you over the edge again and again and again.

Pupils blown wide as he sinks his fingers into you, crooking them perfectly as to reach the spots he knows will drive you mad. The papers strewn around the room don't matter - they don't even cross his mind, as you wriggle and squirm and quiver and cry out for him.

How could they, when all he can focus on is the way you look when your body tenses up, another wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins, culminating in your lovely little noises, and the addicting feeling of your pleasure dripping down his fingers and over his palm, soaking him thoroughly.

He would be happy to have you like this, as frequently as you would let him.

He knows how sensitive you must be by now, not only from his ministrations, but also from the way your body is changing. He's done his fair amount of reading since discovering your pregnancy - he's aware of all the ways you might be feeling.

The hunger, the exhaustion, the aches and pains.

The all-encompassing, single-minded lust you might go through.

He's ready to please you, however you might want - his fingers, his mouth. And whenever you might want. You could wake him up in the middle of the night, for all he cares. You could nudge him from the sleep that he so desperately needs, and he'd ask not a single question besides What do you need, darling? How would you like me?

What he doesn't expect is his own desire.

You're beautiful. You always have been beautiful. Even as things change, he was absolutely certain that you would never stop being beautiful.

It's you, so of course he's going to want you.

But seeing you now, whining and looking at him like he's hung the moon in the sky, specifically for you? Your tummy already growing round with the life that you've made together, visible proof of your love? Desperate whimpers falling past your lips, begging him for more, for him to fill you up again and again and again?

He can't resist you.

Even when he starts to ache, and his arms start shaking, and his throat is raw and dry from breathing hard and calling out for you.

He can't resist you.

You're insatiable.

So is he.

He's a little more careful as the months progress. Manhandling you less, digging his fingers into the soft fat of your hips a little gentler. He's cognizant of how you're most comfortable, watching in awe as you tremble on top of him, grinding down on him and taking his entire length into you like you were made specifically for him.

Nearly every day, you beg for him.

He loves you.

And when the time eventually comes for you to waddle carefully into the labour centre, meeting your midwife along the way, Viktor tries to keep his worrying quiet. Tries to stay by your side as a supportive pillar, regardless of how well or not he might actually be able to hold you up.

Holding your hand, kissing your knuckles. Trading his fingers for a stress ball when you squeeze a little too hard (and then another stress ball, stronger this time, when the first one explodes in your fist after a couple minutes. It shocks both of you, but to his surprise, you start laughing).

He tenderly dabs the sweat off your forehead as the hours go by, keeping your hairs from pasting themselves to your face and neck. Staying nearby as a source of comfort, but not so close that you feel smothered by him - allowing you the space you need to wiggle around as you see fit.

Telling you stories to distract you, listening to your complaints and observations as his words become unable to mask the pain of your contractions. Doing his absolute best to bite back a fond grin as you breathlessly curse him for doing this to you.

I didn't mean it, you tell him, as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes wide and tearful with sorrow.

I know, he promises, leaning forward to press his lips to your dewy skin.

You sigh happily.

It's not for another couple hours that your baby finally decides to enter the world.

You're beyond exhausted, and Viktor is starting to get fidgety with his worry. Is it supposed to be taking this long? he wonders internally, keeping his questions to himself so as not to stress you out even more.

The midwives, to their credit, are incredibly skilled. Staying by your side throughout the whole process, carefully monitoring everything they need to in order to make sure you're healthy. That the baby is healthy. He knows that they would say something, if anything was truly wrong.

And when the little one finally arrives, she does so kicking and screaming, making an absolute ruckus in the quiet room. The door is shut tight, keeping the sounds of the busy establishment at bay, and the curtain is drawn for your privacy so no one can see in when the staff come and go.

But when your girl begins shouting her absolute displeasure into the air, Viktor swears he can hear some quiet clapping and cheering from the hallway. He doesn't know if it's for your success, or for something and someone else entirely - but for a moment, he likes to believe that there are some strangers out there who are happy for him.

They don't know his story, and they don't know yours - but they've heard a great cry from somewhere hidden and full of struggle. An all-encompassing wail that confirms the presence of life, shouting to the world I am here, I am alive, and I have absolutely no idea what's going on!

He doesn't know when the tears start trailing down his cheeks.

Perhaps it's when he first lays eyes on your girl, pink and cranky and a little bit squished. Putting up a fuss on your base chest, scrunching her little face up as you speak softly and tenderly to her.

Perhaps it's when one of the midwives hands him a very soft towel, instructing him on how to carefully pat away the blood and fluid still clinging to your child. His eyes growing wide when he oh so gently cleans her off to reveal more of her tiny features.

She's still new, and needs time to decompress (so to speak), but he stares at her with such rapture. Taking in every inch of her, burning her face into his mind so that he might never forget her. Ever.

She's still new, and yet he can already tell that she has your nose. And your lips. Your smile, he realizes, with a palpable joy spreading through his chest.

His tears eventually dry, if only so he's able to better see you and the newest member of your family. Laying kiss after kiss to whatever part of your skin he can reach. Stroking the tips of his fingers over your girl's hair - her tiny arms and shoulders, her chubby cheeks, the bridge of her nose and over her brows.

But some two hours later, when you're finally allowed to rest in your comfortable hospital bed: when your baby is now dry and fed and swaddled up happily in Viktor's arms?

The tears begin again.

Privately, in the dim of the room, while you snooze a couple feet away from him, he weeps. Silently, and without so much as a sniffle. He cannot stop the wetness that rolls down his face, even if he wanted to.

Your girl is finally relaxed, after her grand, dramatic entrance. On the edge of sleep, warm and with a full tummy, making funny little expression while she dozes.

Much to Viktor's delight, she has a head of fuzzy brown hair - dishevelled and sticking in every direction, not matter how the midwives had tried to tame it. It'll settle down in a few days, they'd promised. But he didn't care.

The wild mop on top of her head rivalled the chaos of his own. The same shade of chestnut, though perhaps less coarse in texture. Maybe it will grow to the same thickness eventually, he thinks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he imagines how much he's going to have to help her with it as she grows.

Brushing the inevitable tangles out with a soft brush. Pulling the strands back into braids so she can run around and play easier - or maybe little buns on the top of her head, he realizes, the image conjuring up in his mind.

All at once, pictures pop through his head, so vivid and bright that he can almost see them appearing in front of him.

Watching your daughter grow. Sleepless nights of taking care of her, catering to her every whim. Making sure she's fed, and comfortable - entertaining her with silly little toys that make silly little noises, bright colours painted across them. Reading her books with bright, enticing visuals for her to stare at, despite the fact that she doesn't know what words are.

Making trinkets for her as she gets a little older. Things that help her learn, but that also keep her excited and enticed, encouraging her exploration of the world around her. Teaching her to walk, by helping her strengthen her little legs. Sitting on a footstool, a wide smile on his face, as you hold her by her arms and support her as she figures out how to use her legs while upright. Leading her right over into his waiting arms.

Until she's able to balance on her own, after a number of weeks of practising together. Pushing herself up into a wobbly stance, doing her absolute best to try and balance. Maybe she stumbles a couple of times, but she's persistent -stubborn, like he is- and continuously rises back up until she's able to make it over to him on her own. Giggling and wiggling when he scoops her up and praises her and showers he in affection.

Teaching her about anything and everything, the bigger she gets. Answering every question she has, no matter how confusing or senseless - encouraging with his own suggestions, and prompting her to discover some answers for herself. Putting together little experiments for her, so they can learn together and so he can watch her eyes widen with the joy of new information.

Fixing her toys for her whenever they break, as she brings them to him with misty eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Papa, it fell apart, she says sadly. To which he pulls her onto his lap, regardless of what work he was doing, and helps her repair the damage. Letting her watch and observe when she's still too small to hold a screwdriver, and carefully explaining things to her when her motor skills start to develop more.

And then helping her figure out in what way her toy broke, when she's a little bigger. Asking specific questions, so she can work to connect all the dots herself. Helping her gather the materials that she needs in order to fix things herself, and praising her to the high heavens when she presents the finished product to him.

The little thing is slightly lopsided, but he fully believes that it adds to its charm - tells her as such, when she sighs about it not being the same as before.

It's a little uneven, just like me, he says, with a laugh.

And, much to his complete shock, she wraps her little arms around him, and gives him her strongest possible squeeze.

It adds to your charm, she parrots back to him with complete honesty. I like you, Papa.

And once again, for the umpteenth time throughout his daughter's life, his eyes well with tears and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She could go anywhere she wanted, once she grew up. Learn anything, do anything, be anything. Perhaps she'd enjoy the sciences, like he does - machinery, and building, and designing, and inventing. Maybe she'd get into art, and spend her days painting or sketching, or writing, or making music - inspiring other people with the things she makes.

It doesn't matter, though. Because no matter what she ends up enjoying, or where she goes in her life, Viktor will support her with his entirety. Even when she grows all the way up, and inevitably leaves home to begin her own life, whatever that may be.

He knows he's going to cry then, too. So many years together, and yet it will still never be enough.

But for now, he sighs, staring adoringly down at the tiny infant in his arms. For now, they have time. He vows silently to never waste a single moment with her, and never pass up the opportunity to spend time with her. No matter how busy or frustrated or tired he gets, he won't let her grow up feeling unwanted or unloved or unimportant.

He'll give her a better life than he grew up with, and that is both a promise and a threat.

After all, he would do anything, for her.

His greatest creation.

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor headcanons #viktor blurb #viktor reader insert #arcane reader insert #i am slowly rising from the dead whoops

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perfectsunlight · 1 year

Text

(𝟏𝟔) - 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗶 𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗮 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗵𝘂𝗵 𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗷𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

part of the series: best friends

warnings: alcohol, mentions of sex

word count: 2,462

IVE INKIGAYO STAGE HITS 3 MILLION VIEWS ONLY 6 HOURS AFTER BEING POSTED

Y/N KANG FROM THE KPOP GROUP “IVE” MAKING HER MARK ON THE STAGE

IVE’S LATEST PERFORMANCE EXCITES FANS AROUND THE WORLD

SEULGI’S SISTER, KANG Y/N, PROVING THAT GREATNESS RUNS IN THE FAMILY

INKIGAYO PERFORMANCE BY KOREAN GIRL GROUP “IVE” IS TRENDING #1 ON TWITTER, YOUTUBE, AND MANY OTHERS

all of the headlines were the same. your group’s inkigayo stage went viral. it was no surprise to anyone, especially given how hard you had all been working. the other members would argue that it was you who worked the hardest, especially given everything you were dealing with, but you simply thought of it as doing your job.

which was why, as mentioned before, the only thing better than a good performance was an even better after party.

truth be told, after you had left aeri a voicemail, you deleted her contact entirely. you didn’t have the heart to block her just yet, but only time would tell when you would eventually find the strength to do such a thing.

however, fortunately for you, any thought of aeri was on the backburner. your performance and its success were enough of a well needed distraction for you, especially given the events of last night.

yujin let leeseo stay and enjoy the after party for once, but she was definitely keeping a close eye on her since she knew gaeul and rei would try and get her to drink a little.

there were a lot of other groups there as well, even if they didn’t perform, they were still invited. the energy and music were electrifying. the rhythm from the bass, the alcohol in your cup, and the flashing lights felt euphoric.

for the first time in weeks, you felt happy. your group was successful, your career was at an all time high, and you were slowly pulling yourself out of a hole that once felt like an endless abyss.

“you look good, y/n!” wonyoung shouted over the music, dancing next to you and gaeul. your roommate was relieved to see you coping much better than you had been just a week prior. she was worried about you not being able to pick yourself back up in time for the performance, but you did it. you gave it your all on that stage, and the result ended up in your favor.

“thank you, wony!” your genuine smile made both of your group members feel relieved. all of them could tell a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders since you finally cut ties with the aespa member.

for them, it was obvious that you were much happier without aeri. even your sister noticed it when she watched your performance in her living room. wendy and irene also congratulated you through a quick text, and they both commented on how happy you looked on that stage.

even if they didn’t know the reason why, it was obvious to everyone that you were much happier now.

even aeri herself noticed it.

i saw you dancing in a crowded room

you look so happy when i'm not with you

originally, only the other three members had been invited to the after party since giselle was still “grounded” as she referred to it. but after the company discussed it over, they decided to send her at the last minute in hope of giving her a chance to be seen with her members in a way that would seem positive.

except, aeri didn’t want to be there. she didn’t want to run into you and face the look of heartbreak on your face. your voicemail already haunted her enough.

she watched her phone ring when you called, and was about to answer too, but she was too late once the call icon disappeared. giselle didn’t think much of it at the time, but then when she heard your voicemail?

aeri almost ran to the ive dorm barefoot and in pajamas. but she didn’t.

and now, merely 24 hours later, she could finally see with her own two eyes the truth that she had been running from this entire time.

you truly were happier without her.

but then you saw me, caught you by surprise

a single teardrop falling from your eye

the rapper swirled the shot glass in her hand, watching the chinese whiskey dance around the ice. it was similar to the way aeri was dancing around you. from where she sat at the bar, she could see you perfectly through the cracks in the bodies of others.

your hair was slightly disheveled, but your stage makeup was still perfectly intact despite the thin layer of sweat lacing your brows. you had been dancing all night, quite literally.

she watched you throw your head back in a fit of laughter. it was probably due to something gaeul had said. you often mentioned the jokes she made whenever she had you come over. it was one of her favorite parts about seeing you.

aeri nearly jumped out of her seat when she saw your eyes meet hers. even though it was just for a fleeting moment, she could see the look of heartbreak and disappointment flash in your eyes.

it made her immediately turn her head to the side, focusing on the ever so interesting patterns of the bartop and the way her fingernails tapped against it.

she waited a few moments before turning to look in your direction again, physically feeling her tense shoulders relax when she saw her favorite smile return to your face.

it was ironic, truly. this whole mess started with her not noticing you at a party. and yet here the roles were reversed, with you not noticing her.

the only difference this time was that aeri didn’t want you to notice her.

i don’t know why i run away

i’ll make you cry when i run away

to be quite honest, aeri didn’t know why she ran in the beginning. she wanted to reach out to you and have you explain everything, but her pride refused to yield. her pride and her fear of heartbreak caused her to run.

she ran from her feelings for you for so long, which was why when she had the courage to finally accept them, your confession about your sex life with yunjin felt like a knife to her heart.

aeri wasn’t stupid. she knew when you started falling for her after that night. she noticed it in your touches, in your kisses, in the way you clung to her more. it scared her.

at least, initially it did. over time she reciprocated the same feelings that she had ran from for so long.

however, aeri was tired of running. which was why she had to walk away from you, too.

you could’ve asked me why i broke your heart

you could’ve told me that you fell apart

which was why when she finally got your voicemail, she couldn’t help but cry with you. she felt everything you had felt, but due to her petty actions and stupid mistakes, it ended up with the both of you losing each other.

as she watched you and wonyoung dance to the song currently playing, she felt the ghost of a smile form on her lips.

you were feeling happier than ever right now, but aeri couldn’t feel any more miserable than she already was right now.

at least, that’s what she thought.

but you walked past me like i wasn’t there

and just pretended that you didn’t care

her heart sank to her stomach when she saw you and your group members walking towards the bar. she moved her hair in front of her eyes in an attempt to hide herself, but truth be told, she knew you had seen her.

she knew that she was there. but you refused to even acknowledge her presence as you walked past her, laughing and shouting at gaeul to get you whatever she was getting.

you and aeri had been friends for so long that you could recognize each other from a mile away. and when things got more intimate between you two, you both knew that even in the dark, you had each other’s bodies memorized.

the both of you knew everything about each other like the back of your hands. which was why aeri knew it stung so much for you to ignore her just like that, even if she deserved it.

i made you think that i would always stay

i said some things that i should never say

the night of the date, or rather the argument since the date never really happened, aeri drove back to somi’s place and got absolutely wasted. she was so hurt, and somi was blasting XOXO so loud that she was positive everyone on that block heard it.

she remembered how she curled into a ball on somi’s bathroom floor, crying her heart out because of how much it hurt. however, she wasn’t just hurt because of everything you had told her.

she was hurting because of everything she told you.

it hurt her, to hurt you. except, she didn’t realize that fully until after she had been caught with jeno.

she should have never agreed with him to “get back” at you. but she was so hurt, and drunk on both pain and some japanese liquor that night that she couldn’t think straight. even though the articles said they were both sober, it could not have been any further from the truth.

just like how she wasn’t actually dating jeno either. SM only said that to try and help make the situation look better and deal with damage control. in their eyes, a couple caught having sex looked much better than two single idols being drunk and horny.

she regretted it in the moment, but she regretted it even more when she heard from karina that seulgi was looking for her.

needless to say, giselle had been walking on eggshells whenever she was in the company building.

yeah i broke your heart like someone did to mine

and now you won’t love me for a second time

aeri knew she had broken your heart, but as cliche as it sounds, she broke yours out of retaliation since you broke hers.

it wasn’t intentional, and she knew that, but the cycle of heartbreak began and ended with both of you getting hurt.

and now, the aespa member was well aware that you were no longer willing to have her in your life. not as a lover, or as a friend.

girl take me back, ‘cause i wanna stay

save your tears for another

the SM rapper knew better than to try and fix things with you. you wanted nothing to do with her, and your voicemail was your final goodbye to her.

even though she wanted to run up to you right now, hold your hand and dance with you under the illuminated lights, she knew she couldn’t.

giselle wanted to kiss you in front of everyone, and tell you over and over again how proud of you she was. you had always worked so hard, even as a trainee. it was one of the many things gigi admired about you.

it was the sum of these admirations that made her fall in love with you.

she didn’t want to be the reason you cried anymore. she wanted you to cry over things like winning awards, breaking records, and giving speeches. she didn’t want you to cry over her and her wretched heart.

in her eyes, it wasn’t worth it. she wasn’t worth crying over.

i realize i’m much too late

and you deserve someone better

you felt a tap on your shoulder, and when you turned around you couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto your face.

“hi, stranger.”

yunjin’s arms wrapped you in the tightest hug she could muster up. “you did so good, y/n.” she grinned and pulled back to look at you. she had seen you at your lowest. when you were hurting because of giselle, even from the very beginning, she was there.

you and yunjin had a very long talk the day she slipped under your covers. yunjin had explained herself fully, and also told you why she did what she did. she even told you that aeri had been the one to text first that night.

however, at the time you were upset, but looking back on it, you were sort of grateful she did that. you knew you would have ran back to giselle in a heartbeat, and the vicious cycle would have only continued.

even though you and the american were not together, you had both agreed to take things slowly to see where they went. yunjin had confessed to you indirectly, but you knew how she felt. she was still moving on from chaewon, and you were still moving on from aeri.

but the two of you had each other, and you were willing to see where things with your new “best friend” would go in the future.

“thank you, jen.” the music changed to a more upbeat song, which prompted yunjin to grab you by the hand and drag you more towards her members.

as aeri watched you disappear further from her sight from the bar, she downed the shot in her hand. the bitter taste in her mouth matched the bitter feeling in her heart. but it was only directed at herself, and not you.

aeri knew you deserved better, even though she wanted to be the best option for you. she knew she couldn’t. it was too late for her.

she motioned for the bartender to give her another shot of baijiu. he poured the white liquor into another glass and slid it towards her. with her left hand, she held the glass out and in your direction.

she was making a final toast to you.

“to my best friend,”

she whispered to herself, the music and ambience of the party drowning out everything around her. she caught one final glimpse of you laughing and holding onto yunjin, just like you had done with her in what felt like forever ago.

this was the first and final toast to your friendship, and the shattered pieces of a relationship that unfortunately was never meant to be.

the glass met her lips as she downed the liquor, feeling the bitterness slide down her throat. she wiped her eyes gently, not sure if she was crying because of the alcohol or because of you.

(she knew the reason why. she just didn’t want to admit it.)

“i love you, too.”

save your tears for another day

a/n: the end :)

p.s. a toast with the left hand is considered more heartfelt since your left hand is closer to your heart

#aespa #lesserafim #aeri uchinaga #giselle #giselle x reader #yunjin x reader #huh yunjin #kpop #fiction #best friends #perfectsunlight

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dragonnarrative-writes · 27 days

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im the anon who sent that gaz ask and omg kyle's interlude was so good!!!!! im just giggling thinking of kyle wondering how much does she know? did she catch on somehow? fuck I have to take her out quick before she finds out how many projects ive finished and the whole time miss new girl is like. wow this guy fucking sucks at his job i want him gone from my hospital >:(

mans thinks shes gonna file a case with a police and she just thinks he's incompetent as shit

I'm so tickled. That's exactly what's happening.

CW: discussions of death and dying, autopsies, medical neglect

There’s something going on on the cardiac floor that you just… can’t quite put your finger on.

This isn’t the first hospital you’ve worked at, but you’re also new to urban healthcare, so you don’t want to rock the boat by being paranoid. But traffic from the cardiac floor is… steady. You’ve read the papers, know the stats like the back of your hand. And the cardiac floor is perfectly in line with expected trends. Every. Month.

There are fluctuations, of course. Plus or minus three to seven lives is nothing remarkable in cardiology. Macabre, maybe, but true. But that’s unnatural. In the seven months you’ve worked here, you’ve seen waves elsewhere in the hospital. The plastics floor had a month with zero deaths followed by a month of a persistent infection sweeping through the otherwise reasonably healthy patients. Oncology has seen a steady decline in patients sent your way, thank goodness. Even emergency and intensive care aren’t as fixedly consistent as the cardiac floor.

When you wonder about it aloud to the director, Dr. Martins just shrugs. “We have a good team up there. Very good at keeping things clean and double and triple checking their work.”

“But if that’s the case, then the number of deaths should be going down,” you point out.

Dennis gives you a rueful smile. “That’s not always how human bodies work, unfortunately. You know that.”

You do know that. Which is why the consistency grates against your nerves. So you decide to do a little digging.

The name that comes up the most often in the chart notes is one Kyle Garrick.

That’s actually not 100% accurate. He’s charting exactly the way he’s supposed to. And no nurse has complete, individual access to patients 24/7. But every dying patient he has access to is… perfect. Their blood work, labs, vitals, prognosis, medication adherence and refusal is almost too-the-letter, textbook precise.

The most obvious answer is that Garrick, and probably a couple of other nurses on the floor, are fudging the numbers.

The idea is infuriating. You hate the way the administrators keep changing medical record systems just as much as the next person, but inaccurate charting is a safety issue. People can, have, and do die because someone writes down the wrong timing for medications or assumes that a patient’s vitals are unchanged. If anything, this is probably worse than that. The fact that everything is so pristine probably means that some patients are just being written off. The nurses might be deciding who gets the excellent care the hospital is known for and who gets neglected.

You stay three hours late investigating the next cardio patient that ends up in your morgue.

After examining the body and reading, rereading, and re-re-re-reading his chart, you find it. A stutter in the dosages of blood thinners, a slightly higher blood pressure reading from someone who isn’t nurse Kyle fucking Garrick. Just enough evidence to have you testing the body with an aspirometer almost too late. And there it is. A fatal air embolism.

You want to scream, but the dead man doesn’t deserve that.

Three weeks later, sipping from your water bottle, someone calls into the office. “Knock knock.”

Dennis practically lights up. “"Good morning, Kyle. Been a bit since you've come to see us. Care for some tea?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. Dr Martins hates unexpected visitors. Then you look over your shoulder, and you understand. Even old queens aren't immune to pretty privilege. The man that’s leaning in the doorway is gorgeous. Maybe its because you work with dead bodies all day, but his eyes and skin seem to glow, even under the fluorescents.

"Can't," the man says, apologetically. "Just dropping someone off."

"Well, at least let me introduce our new nurse!"

The fact that you’re wiping crumbs off of your mouth over a paper plate is the only reason no one sees your face fall when you hear him say, “Nice to meet you. Kyle Garrick.”

#slasher handler #cod #fanfiction #dark fic #kyle gaz garrick #gaz appreciation nation #dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #coffeeshop chats #please keep these requests coming because when they hit they HIT #i'm having so much fun #i promise im working on the next ghost part #but the giant weirdo is fighting me #gaz is much more cooperative and considerate

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sophswritingthings · 4 months

Text

ruin my life -- chapter 1

| warning(s): light swearing |

| a/n: modern mizu had such a grip on me, and now were here. |

| summary: an overlook into mizu's life before you enter it. |

| song rec: ruin my life -- zolita (for the story, in general) |

| word count: 776 words / 4,211 characters |

______________________________________________________________

mizu always kept to herself, she was never the loud type. always played a background role, even if people thought she should be in the spotlight.

never had she believed that before she met eiji.

eiji was an alumni at her school.. one of the many famous actors the school had produced. the amount of actors they had produced is why she really wanted to go to the school, in the first place.

and meeting him kind of changed her whole perception of her own talent, of her own mind. if someone who was so great could tell her all these great things about herself, they were true, surely.

"listen here, kid, nobody ever did anything by sitting on their ass and never getting anything done," he furrowed his eyebrows as they walked side by side, through the halls of the marbled school. "I know that better than anyone. you remind me of myself, when I went here."

she arched one eyebrow, "how come? im.. nothing like you, I mean.. you're this great actor and im just.. a college student who can barley pay their own tuition."

he gently gripped her shoulder, nodding, "exactly. do you think I was some great guy while I was in college? I didn't come from riches, kid, I could barley pay for this college when I was your age."

she adverted her gaze, a little sigh leaving her lips, "suppose that's true," mizu mumbled.

"and ive heard you do fencing," he tapped his cane against the ground, "as did i."

"oh--yeah. yeah, I know," a small smile crossed her lips. "its part of the reason I wanted to start. sort of, I guess."

"its a noble practice," he nodded, smiling a bit. "may I request to meet you, again, mizu? after your classes, tomorrow."

her eyes widened, gazing at him. someone as great as him, wanted anything to do with them?

"um, uh, yes." she stammered, "I'll meet you here."

and from then on, that's what they'd do. hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks that she would meet eiji for both fencing practice, and acting/college advice.

eiji was basically the father she had never had, someone to inspire her, push her forward.

her college life had improved, a little. not by much, but a little. she still lived in a small-ass college dorm with three other girls, sharing two sets of bunk beds in the room the size of a walk in closet.

"mizu? hey?" one of the girls, carrie, seemed to take an interest in her early. and of course, she had settled on the top bunk of mizu's bed. the girl popped down, swinging her head over mizu's bed. "you doin' anything tomorrow? me and some friends were going out and--"

mizu's head had almost immediately blocked out any word she said. she didn't want anything to do with this girl, nor what she was offering. she seemed to be the kind of girl to cling and never leave, and she was not about that. she'd come home crying over some new girl every week, she could guess, crying that they said she was "too clingy".

"uh--yeah. im working," mizu hissed, never looking up from her phone.

that wasn't a lie, actually, she had work at her average pay job as a barista. she had been working there ever since she got accepted into the college, how else would she pa her tuition?

not that it helped, much, it wasn't the best pay ever. and her tuition was more than 50,000 dollars a year--she was going to be in debt for more days than she thought she could count. but if she managed (and hopefully she would, with eijis help) to get a good gig, or few, she could pay it off in no time.

the coffee shop wasn't too bad, though. customers were usually quiet, besides the few that would come in every so often. she'd get okay tips, considering she tried to be as respectful as she could.

she had her friends. none of which attended the same school--they all had different majors. whom she considered her best friend, akemi, was in harvard law school miles away from them. taigen had gotten into law school, too, just not the same. (he definitely wasn't smart enough for harvard, that's for sure.) and ringo, the sweet culinary major she'd met going out for drinks, one night, with akemi. he was a mixologist, and despite his lack of hands--he was a wonderful one.

her life was calm. her life was quiet.

there was never anything absolutely interesting, about it.

that was--until you walked into it.

______________________________________________________________

#mizu #mizu x you #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #part 1 #modern au #bes #blue eyed samurai fanfic #x reader

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

Note

I would like to request something, More like a comedy/fun/silly request :3

So... Have you ever thought about how would Alastor, Husk, Angel Dust and Lucifer would react to their female s/o calling for them in a visibly mad tone for their complete name from the kitchen?? Maybe them knowing that they didn't thawed the chicken they try and run away from her but she teleports in front of them and tuggs them from the ear (motherly behaviors entered the chat) while saying something like

"Oh, honey, you're not gonna escape from me, and NOW you're gonna clean the house for ONE WEEK"

(in headcanon format please 😌) (also I rode on one of your posts that you got many HH and HB requests so if you wanna ignore this, go ahead I don't really mind, It's your decision ^^)

notes: OMG ANON THIS IS SO FUNNY! sorry this took so long btw, ive had so many requests to get through lol and this is a pretty difficult idea to actually turn into a writing piece, but that's what makes it more fun lol. and dont worry about the too many requests about HH! I just thought it was interesting that i had a lot of fans of the show lol. thanks for the request anon and I really hope you enjoy!! WARNINGS: I left out Lucifer because I don't know too much about him and kept the reader gn because Angel Dust is gay, so I didn't want to make it a female s/o. thanks for the request <333

ALASTOR

this man isnt easily intimidated by anyone

i mean he is the radio demon frrrr

but you?

oh this man is TERRIFIED OF YOU

not when you're lovey dovey, just when you're mad

which to be fair isnt often

but you went to leave the house and pressed a huge kiss onto Alastor's cheek before leaving. You told him that you wanted him to do the dishes while you were away and he gave you a thumbs up telling you that it would get done

but then you get home

and find out that not a single plate was clean

Alastor was relaxing upstairs and you were on the verge of losing

not helpful that you had an awful day on top of it

you called him by his full and complete name from when he was alive and while he was upstairs, he felt chills down his spine

he quickly ran downstairs and realized the mistake he had made a little too late

"do you expect me to do these, Al? you've been sitting on your ass ALL DAY, I am not doing any of this!" You pointed to the huge pile of dished and Alastor felt defeated

he apologized a thousand times and ended up getting them done both clean and fast in record time

and he bought you flowers to apologize

HUSK

you were at work when you remembered you needed the chicken pulled out of the freezer to thaw

you quickly texted husk and asked him to do it and all he sent was a thumbs up emoji

you prayed that he did what he needed to do

you got home in a very chipper mood from your day at work to find no chicken on the counter

you tilted your head and checked all over the kitchen

in the pantry, on the counter, in the cabinets, in the fridge

and finally

in the freezer

you almost lost your shit right then and there

you called Husk down to the kitchen and he walked in, picking at his fingernail before noticing you there

"hey babe, welcome home."

you crossed your arms and he noticed how pissed you look

shit

the chicken

mans went to run off, but you quickly teleported in front of him and grabbed him by the ear

"oh no you dont, mister. where do you think you're going?"

"to my room?" he tried, shrugging

"not on my watch. it looks like you're not only getting me dinner out tonight, but you'll be doing the dishes for three weeks now."

husk sighed, but agreed to your terms. he hated it when you were upset

ANGEL DUST

omg mans is a brat

let me tell you

you wake up in the morning smiling

like so happy that you had the best sleep cuddled against this softie

and then you remember that you have a super important meeting that day

and then you ask angel in the NICEST voice "do you mind getting the dishes out of the way today, love? I have a meeting today."

he shoots you the DIRTIEST look and has the AUDACITY to say "no. im not up for that. Im tired"

and turns away from you

you poke him so hard in the back

"ANGEL!"

"what?!" but he turns to you and recognizes that expression

mans effed up

he apologizes immediately and then tells you that he'll do them

he doesnt end up doing them btw

~~~~~

hazbin hotel masterlist | pinned post @tonberry-yoda

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sehunniepotwrites · 1 year

Text

WITH YOU | MK.L | TWO

SYNOPSIS. There are many things Mark Lee wants to do with you. He wants to walk you home. He wants to dive into the deep blue sea with you. He wants to go on a drive with you at his side. But mostly, this crazy, head over heels in love boy just wants to make it with you.

PAIRING. mark lee x fem!reader

GENRE. college!au, friends-to-lovers!au, tooth-rotting fluff, humor WARNINGS. beach setting, profanity, mentions of food

WORD COUNT. 3.9k+

DISCLAIMER. This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters or concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work. © sehunniepotwrites, 2022

I. WALK YOU HOME | II. DIVE INTO YOU | III. DRIVE | IV. MAKE IT WITH YOU

Three weeks before your summer break ended, you drove Mark’s car to your university’s athletic complex on an early Saturday morning. As you made the turn onto the campus’ main road, the dashboard’s screen lit up with a familiar name. A simple button press allowed you to answer the call while your eyes remained on the empty street. It was a warm summer morning after all. No one else would even bother coming to campus unless they had work or summer school. “Hello?”

“Hey, Sunshine! You on your way to campus yet?” Mark’s bright voice filled your ears. You wanted to laugh. If anyone were pure sunshine, it would be Mark Lee and not you. If only the boy realized it himself.

“Yeah, I’m only a few minutes away,” you replied as you stopped at the red light. Just as you finished that sentence, you saw a couple of charter buses drive past you as the other light turned green. You grinned, knowing that Mark and your other friends were finally home. “Hey, you just drove past me!”

The sounds of material shuffling around echoed through the speakers and you knew Mark made for the closest window to catch a glimpse of you in his car. “Oh shit, you weren’t kidding!”

“Would I ever let you down, Marky?” you laughed as green flashed before you. Feeling the wheel slip in between your fingers, you continued your way across campus and followed the path the buses took.

“Actually, you—”

“Finish that sentence and I’m turning this car around,” you joked as you pulled into the lot where all the buses parked. As you drove closer, you saw all the athletes disembarking and gathering their belongings stored in the compartments.

Every summer, your university required all student-athletes to attend a two-month-long training camp at a high-class sports facility. Your school wasn’t the only one in attendance, many others were invited as well. It was something every athlete looked forward to and dreaded at the same time. They loved being in their own bubble and meeting other teams to form a sort of friendly camaraderie but hated the long hours of training this camp asked of them. By the end of the month, they usually came back to school exhausted but in the best shape of their life.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and you could almost see him saluting you. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yeah, I’ll come and find you, I just have to park.”

“Don’t be so shocked when you see Marky, Squirt. He’s a whole-ass man now,” a voice other than Mark’s responded. Johnny Suh must’ve been his seatmate during the ride back. The outside hitter of the men’s volleyball team always found joy in butting into other people’s conversations. The tall guy could never keep to himself.

“Dude,” was the last thing you heard before the line went dead.

Johnny’s sentence left you wondering what he meant. Why would you be shocked?

You found out soon after as you stood by buses, standing on your tippy toes to catch a glimpse of your best friend amongst the crowd of athletes. Johnny, being the tall giant he was, spotted you first. Your friend gave you a shit-eating grin as he exited the bus alongside Ten Lee, a member of the ice hockey team, and another friend of yours. It was funny how you were friends with so many athletes but did not carry one athletic bone in your body.

“Hey there, Squirt,” Johnny teased as you approached him. God, if you had the skills and accuracy, you wanted to spike a volleyball right in his devilishly handsome face.

“Shut up, you menace,” you said as you avoided his hand that aimed to ruffle your hair.

“Yo, Marky, I found her for you!” he yelled over his shoulder. Johnny bent down ever-so-slightly to whisper in your ear, “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“You’ll see, young one,” Ten chuckled, pressing a little kiss to your head before dragging Johnny to find their duffles and gear they brought with them during the course of the summer.

And see you did as the athlete you didn’t recognize as Mark popped into view. You caught sight of him from afar but dismissed him because there was no way that man was your best friend. His shoulders were broader than you had last seen him. His chest and arms filled out the shirt he wore so well. As your eyes raked over his bigger build, you could not pinpoint that the shirt he wore was the very shirt you gifted him for his birthday last year.

When Mark first received the present, his lean build made the shirt appear fashionably oversized. It draped nicely over his shoulders and drowned the rest of his body in the softest fabric with a design that was so undeniably Mark you couldn’t resist buying it for him. His arms were thin compared to the large holes in his sleeves, he looked nothing but cute in the shirt.

But now, the design of the shirt was stretched out against the wide planes of his chest. A line appeared down the middle, drawing attention to his pecs, you could barely take your eyes away from the sight. The only things that caught your attention were the arms Mark frantically waved in your direction. Although not completely hugging his biceps, you could see his arms taking up more space in the sleeves. You couldn’t even bring yourself to blink when his flexed muscles hauled his hockey bag behind his back.

And his face. Dear God, his face was even more chiseled than before, amplifying the good looks others would swoon over.

If someone were to ask you before Mark left for the summer, you would’ve called him your cute friend. If they asked you the same question now, at this very moment, you would say that Mark Lee was fucking hot.

“You look different,” was all you could say as he approached you. A snort came from beside you. It was another athlete scouring through piles for their own gear. To him, you probably sounded like a lovestruck idiot. That was what you would call yourself at that moment anyway.

Mark paused a few steps away from you, appalled at the first sentence you uttered to him since his return. “Like a good different? Or a bad different?” With the way his voice tilted up at the end of his second question, you could tell your friend (and crush) was beginning to pick at his new appearance.

Your eyes scanned his body again, appreciating the way his shirt was so deliciously filled in all the right places and how the curve of his butt still stood out in the soccer pants that hugged his toned legs. “No, uh, it’s a good different. Yeah, definitely—definitely a good different.” Since when were you the type to stutter?

“Oh, good. Cool, yeah, I mean cool.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, um, Johnny took me under his wing while we hit the gym during camp and he showed me a couple of things I could do,” Mark chuckled shyly, “I’ve got a solid gym routine now.”

“I mean yeah, it’s really working for you.”

“Y-yeah, you think so?”

Before your brain could spit out your big fat crush on your best friend, you quickly changed the topic and flashed a bright smile at him—the one that he called sunshine. “I’ve missed you, Marky.” You opened your arms for a hug and waited for him to approach.

“Oh my god, dude, I’ve missed you so much,” Mark practically sighed as he dropped his bags filled with expensive gear just to pull you into him. Being in his strong arms, feeling his chest against yours, and smelling the fresh scent of his cologne set your heart and skin ablaze. You were so in your feelings that you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Instead, you shut your eyes and wound your arms around his waist to press him even closer to you. “I’m so glad to be back.” His voice was low and raspy, his breath hitting the shell of your ear, as he said those words and it sent a shiver down your body.

“Glad you’re back too,” you whispered into the crook of his neck.

A loud slap rang in your ears and you felt Mark wince in pain. The hit broke your contact with Mark as you both shifted to see who inflicted the uncalled-for strike. Your neighbor, Jeno, just laughed as he hauled his gear over a shoulder. A shoulder that appeared wider than the last time you had seen him. Summer did him good as well. But not as good as it did for Mark.

“God, you two are disgusting. Just get together already,” Jeno chuckled as he walked by, playfully shoving your head into Mark’s chest.

Instead of denying the chemistry Jeno insinuated, Mark simply said, “Bro, shut up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeno ignored Mark’s comment. “See you lovebirds at the beach later?”

The local beach was around one and a half hours away. A small group of friends—including Jaemin, Renjun, and Chenle—left earlier in the morning to secure a spot at the beach. You and Mark were going to stop by his apartment so he could drop off his hockey gear and change into beach attire before heading over to the rest of them. The remainder of the ice hockey team as well as some volleyball, soccer, and basketball folks were coming as well.

“Yup, see you later, Jeno!” you waved him off before leading Mark to his parked car. Tossing Mark his keys, he caught them in his hand with his swift reflexes. You got into the passenger seat a bit sulkily. Your friend had a newer model than your beat-up, hand-me-down car; you were going to miss taking his car around the city.

As Mark put his belongings in the trunk, he bit back a grin to see your things already there. It was such a weird thing to smile at but seeing your things mingling with his felt so domestic and right that it just brought him joy. The hockey player slid into the driver’s seat and you were off.

It took ten minutes to get to Mark’s place. His apartment complex was closer than yours, which was why you crashed there half the time during the school year. You were there so often that you left extra sets of clothes in case of emergencies—meaning unplanned sleepovers—and Mark even had an extra key made for you. You could’ve gotten Mark’s things on the way to pick him up but your best friend insisted that he wanted to drop off his hockey gear first. It made sense, seeing as how expensive his gear was. No one would want to leave a bag as valuable as that in the back of a car trunk.

“Wait here, I’ll be quick,” Mark said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Before completely sliding out of the car, he turned to face you with a shy expression on his face.

“What’s up, Marky?”

His face shifted from shy to determined, like he was hyping himself up to do something. You’d seen your best friend make that face many times in all the years you knew him—before a game, right before a test, or asking a girl out—but it didn’t make sense as to why Mark would do it at that moment.

Light pressure on your cheek pulled you out of your inquisitive mind and back into the present. When you took a deep breath, the smell of clean, fresh laundry took over your senses followed by a whiff of his birch and eucalyptus shampoo that you used every time you stayed over. His shoulder brushed against your own as he pulled away. And that was when you realized what had just happened. Mark kissed you on the cheek.

“What was that for?”

His eyes gleamed and his bashful smile widened. “Nothing, I just missed you a lot.” Leaving you no chance to reply, Mark slipped out of the car and slammed the door behind him. You watched as he ran inside, his hands slapping his reddening cheeks while he entered the building.

Mark’s unexpected action left you in a dizzying haze for who knows long, time slipping away while you replayed that moment over and over and over again in your head. Sure, he had done questionable actions to show affection before, like nuzzling his face in your hair or tugging you by the arm into a big hug, but Mark never went as far as kissing you on the cheek. He pet your hair, shouting “cute!” in the most endearing way with the other younger boys following his lead but a kiss on the cheek? Never been done before. But that didn’t mean you didn’t like it.

The hour-and-a-half drive to the beach didn’t feel so long to the two of you, not when you were shouting into a Bluetooth microphone you saved for road trips. Singing in the car with Mark was one of your favorite past times. Whether it was headbanging (and almost losing control of the car) to a hard rock song or slowing it down with an R&B track that showcased Mark’s husky vocals, you loved every second of it and wouldn’t do it with anyone else.

It didn’t take you long to find where your friends camped out for the day, their loud shouts carrying over the waves crashing into the shore. They were the biggest group on the beach, with three canopies and two smaller tents all huddled in a circle. You saw Johnny and Jaehyun’s surfboards sticking out of the sand, the boys standing right by them with their rash guards hanging loosely around their waists. Ten was controlling the music while Jeno and Jaemin tag-teamed on grilling the food. Your other friends were either lounging about in their chairs, drinks in hand, and you swore you could Donghyuck shouting at Chenle from the shallow end of the water.

Jaehyun, noticing how much you were struggling to make it through the sand with all your bags, ran to help. “Shouldn’t Mark be helping you with these bags?”

You shrugged as you handed the heavier belongings over to the star basketball player. “He sent me ahead with all the snacks and said he forgot something in the trunk.”

“How was your summer?”

You elbowed Jaehyun’s side with a teasing grin. “Boring without you by my side.”

Jaehyun chuckled, elbowing you right back. “Don’t let Marky hear you say that.”

It was a weird comment to make. “Why?”

The basketball player shook his head knowingly before throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you to his side. “Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out, Squirt.”

“And when exactly will I find out?”

You heard Mark’s voice yelling your name, causing you and Jaehyun to turn around. The boy ran through the sand towards you with a grin brighter than the summer sun, bags tangled in his grip, and an unknown item tucked into his side. Jaehyun released you from his grip and with a gentle shove in Mark’s direction, he replied, “Soon enough I hope.” Your friend went ahead with the rest of your belongings, leaving you to wait for Mark. What did Jaehyun mean by “soon enough?” Was there something you weren’t aware of? Was Mark keeping something from you?

“Sunshine! Look what I brought for us!” Mark pulled out the item pressed against his side to reveal a kite. Your heart swelled with joy and all the feelings you carried for Mark increased tenfold. In the past, you expressed that you always wanted to fly a kite but never had a chance to. It was something shared in passing, nothing memorable by any means. But the fact that Mark remembered that tiny, childlike wish you carried touched you.

Mark stopped in front of you, setting his bags down, to hand the kite over to you. He gently placed it in your hold, giving you the time to admire it. Its design was simple, just a diamond with rainbow stripes and a matching rainbow tail, but it was beautiful. Your fingers ran through the tail of the kite, feeling the thin fabric slip through the cracks. The breeze picked up, causing the tail to go with the wind, and the childish excitement inside you bloomed. “Can we try it now?”

“Yeah,” Mark laughed at your how your eyes grew brighter and brighter with each passing second. “We just need to drop off the rest of the stuff first and then give it a go.”

Your gaze never left the kite.

“You like it?” Mark asked.

You shifted your gaze to look him in the eye. “I love it. Thank you, Marky.”

Tucking it to your side, you picked up half of Mark’s belongings. You used your free hand to tug Mark, causing him to stumble in the warm sand. “Now, what are we waiting for? Let’s go already!”

Mark wiggled his hand in your hold, twisting it so your fingers interlocked like it was nothing out of the ordinary. You felt heat rising within you and it had nothing to do with the warm weather. There were little catcalls here and there as you approached your group of friends. Jaehyun and Johnny, the ones who started it all, snickered as you shot death glares at them. You shoved the rest of the belongings into their hands. “Here take care of this stuff, will you?”

You dropped your beach bag under a canopy, quickly stripped yourself of your outer layers, and grabbed the pretty kite once again. Mark wasn’t too far behind you, chatting it up with Renjun and Doyoung, who preferred to stay under the shade. Taking your place beside him, you smiled at the other two.

“You ready, sunshine?”

“We’ll be back!” you called to Renjun and Doyoung, who simply waved you off.

Mark led you to the shoreline, your feet sinking into the damp sand. You bounced up and down as you waited for your next step. As you held onto the kite, Mark unwinded a bit of the line from the kite spool with certainty. “Now, there isn’t enough of a breeze down here for the kite to launch, so you have to make a run for it.”

“That I can do.”

“As soon as you feel like you’re fast enough, let it go and run back to me. I’ll do the rest.” At that moment, Mark sounded so reliable and it made you melt into goo. “Sounds good?”

“Sounds great,” you whispered back, nodding at him before you broke into a run. You felt the tension of the kite line as your speed increased. And when the wind made its way through your strands, you lifted the kite up in the air and let it go. Your eyes followed its every move as it made its way up, up, up high into the sky, the tail of it fluttering so pretty below it.

Mark called your name, motioning you to come back to him as he angled the kite to fly above the water. In no time, you were back at his side. Wordlessly, he handed you the reel and you held it with two hands. Mark’s toned arms wrapped around you so that your back pressed against his built front. Every little instruction that he whispered to you brushed against a weak spot of your neck, sending the slightest tingle down your spine. At times, his large hands would land on top of your hands to help you control the reel. When no further instruction was needed, Mark didn’t back away. Instead, he just rested his palms on your hips and watched you as you continued to control the kite.

You flew the kite for the majority of the day, only taking a few breaks to eat or dive in for a quick swim with your friends. The others invited you to play a round of beach volleyball but there was no way you wanted to go against Johnny or Yuta in the sport. That was a losing game and you knew it. Besides, kite flying was more relaxing than chasing after a ball in the sand.

When the sun began to set and the temperature dropped, it was time to set up the bonfire. When the breeze picked up, Mark handed you his hoodie and insisted that you needed it more than he did. Plus, unbeknownst to you, your best friend always left an extra jacket in the car for you in case you got cold. He took hold of the reel as you slipped it on, smiling ear to ear as you covered yourself in his clothes. Mark liked the sight of you in his hoodie so much, he loosened his grip on the kite and the flimsy item was picked up by the wind. The spool dragged on, leaving a tiny path on the sand, as the kite continued to drift away.

“Oh shit!” He yelled as the two of you chased after it. The kite landed right in the water, floating along with the waves. You laughed at the ridiculous situation, stopping right where the water met the sand, while Mark ran full speed ahead into the ocean.

“Mark, hey! It’s okay!” You yelled but your best friend didn’t listen. “Just leave it!”

Determined to get it back for you, Mark dived right into now freezing water and swam towards the floating item. He fought the cold temperature that was prickling his skin and the seawater that got into his brown eyes as he reached out for the rainbow kite. Once he latched onto the tail, he pulled it towards him, hugged it to his chest, and led himself back to the shore.

You met him as he made his way out of the water, immediately draping his beach towel over his wet shoulders. His teeth chattered as he winced at the breeze that wiggled its way through his wet layers. Feeling him shiver against your side, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders and ran your hand up and down his side. “You idiot, why would you go after it? It’s just a kite. Now you’re gonna get sick.”

Mark tucked his wet mop of hair into your shoulder, lips brushing against the skin of your neck. “Because you love the kite,” he muttered.

“You’re a dummy,” you whispered back, leaving a little kiss at the top of his head. His free arm circled around your middle, drawing you closer to him. If it was anyone else, you would easily shove them away for dampening your dry clothes. But because it was Mark, you didn’t mind how the cold fabric tickled your skin. It was nothing compared to the way Mark clung to you. “Let’s get you to the fire.”

If Mark Lee was an endless ocean, you would easily dive into his embrace. And much to everyone else’s knowledge but your own, Mark would do the very same.

If you were a siren, he would heed your dangerous call, no matter the risk. If you were the breeze that pushed the sails, he would go along with the wind. And if you were the bottomless sea, filled with the unknown, Mark Lee would willingly submerge himself into rough waters and dive into you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE. harvest break from work and school means i finally have time to relax and unwind by writing <3 i haven’t released anything mark lee related in a while and thought this would be a good time to drop a mark fic! please let me know what you think. proofread but i may have missed some things!

TAGLIST. @keemburley @johtenrecs @bat-shark-repellant @bebsky @donutswithjaminthemiddle @suhnnyskhies @baekhyuns-lipchain @emmybyeakitty @sokkigarden @inlovergirlsworld @iwishiwasthemoontonight @stvrrynight @loeycity @ppangjae @luvenshiti @renjuunsz @ferxanda @jaembby @jenosuh @mxrcayong-main

reply to this post or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

NETWORKS. @czennienet @neowritingsnet @ankathi-a

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #ankathia #nct scenarios #nct imaginges #nct fic #nct x reader #mark lee #mark scenarios #mark imagines #mark fic #mark x reader

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yeonpm · 7 months

Text

gepard x gn reader

request,; gepard w reader who ends up fucking off while he’s working in the snow plains. whether reader died or left or got kidnapped or something is entirely up to you. (TYSM FOR THE REQ PVBBY UR SO MWAH)

summary,; you end up being left behind.

cw,; lowercase writing, gepard is a bit ooc, neglectful gepard :(, overall gepard is not caring enough towards reader, a couple of swears, no pronouns for reader used, crying, reader isn't the trailblazer, angst.

"yeon",; ive never written for gepard b4 so he's gonna be a bit off but he's meant to be in this anyways so

"wasted summers" by juju<3

gepard, who always held his job to guard belobog above everything else. something about helping the people of his city just urged him on.

but when he met you, he seemed to warm up a little.

you met him in the middle of what one of the astral express members mentioned as "winter." an astral express member, a bubbly girl with pink hair, told you how it's always the coldest season, but how it was always pretty with the snow and perfect time for family and friends.

just like how winter phases into summer, which the same girl described as the best season for it warmth, gepard's stern personality gently melted away when he met you.

the first few months went extraordinary well. a lot of pda, and always spending time together. even the other guards seemed to be more relaxed as their commander did.

that was, until it was almost like he got tired of you. he started to stop talking to you as much, seeming to zone out during your stories or long rants about the day, and sometimes pushed you away if you tried to talk to him during his working hours.

at first, it wasn't that bad. he still held your hand. cuddled with you, told you how you were his love.

but as time went by, it started to get worse.

it's been maybe three or four weeks since he's started to become distant. you're starting to get worried- did he not love you anymore?

you wanted to spend time with gepard again. you missed him.

so when there was an exploration mission in the outlying plains, and knew there weren't many guards going with him, you asked him if you could come along.

he seemed to be fine with it. but his answer was so simple, so nonchalant, that maybe he simply didn't care.

as you treaded through the snow, fingers red at the tips as they gripped onto your jacket, your footprints leaving behind a trail that would eventually disappear.

gepard didn’t even bother to try and talk to you, and it was pretty much a one-sided conversation until you eventually realized he didn’t want to talk and left him alone.

your gaze seemed to be stuck at your shoes sinking into the snow with each step, before finally lifting your head. your neck ached from looking down for so long.

but when you did look up, you were a bit surprised. the gently falling snow, the edges of cliffs, and the way the snow seemed to clung to your clothes all were really… calming.

you were so caught up with your surroundings that you ended up being behind the rest of the group. you started to run towards them to try and catch up, but the more you ran the more they seemed to disappear into the haze of the snowdrift.

you eventually had to stop, hands on your knees as you panted, trying to catch your breath. for all you knew, you could have been running the opposite way of the rest of the group for qlipoth knows how long.

you look around. you try calling out for gepard, for any silvermane guards, for anyone.

you wanted to go home.

and not far away, a guard turns around. gepard pauses, recognizing one of the guards stopped. he asked what’s wrong. the guard claimed he heard a voice calling for help. gepard brushed it off, telling the guard how he’s imagining things, and that the mission was more important than whatever he heard.

but in the back of his mind, he knew someone was missing. he simply sighed, pushed it away, and kept going.

when he got back into the welcoming warmth of belobog, he immediately dismissed the guards, telling them to warm up and go get some rest. it’s been a very long day.

however, when he turned around and someone tapped him on the shoulder, he turned back around and was about to scold you for bothering him so much, but it wasn’t you. it was a civilian.

…where were you? didn’t you go out to the snow plains with him?

he tried to brush off the fact that you might still be out there and just tried to think you went immediately to your house to get some rest.

but… you were pestering him the entire mission. you always wanted to spend time with him. wouldn’t you have stayed back and tried to talk to him?

his mind spun as suddenly, the civilian’s queries weren’t important anymore.

gepard, who used to love you so much.

gepard, who now holds your limp body in his arms.

gepard, who feels his cheeks tingling with his own tears that slid down his cheeks.

gepard, who tried to grab your hand— but it’s cold, oh so cold.

yummy yummy angsty in my tummy

sorry this is rushed lmao 🧌

HELP I JUST REALIZED HOW DIFFERENT THIS FIC TURNED OUT COMPARED TO THE REQUEST I JUST KINDA ZONED OUT AND THIS IS WHAT CAME OUT IM SORRY 😭😭

#honkai star rail #gender neutral reader #gn reader #hsr #gepard x gn reader #gepard x gender neutral reader #gepard x male reader #gepard #gepard hsr #gepard angst #angst #yum #`.~gepard

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padfootagain · 2 months

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Where We Kept Our Magic (IV)

How We Parted

Hello lovelies! Here is a new part for my Muggle!Reader AU!! I hope you like this new scene, tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

Warnings: it’s a little sad :(

Summary: You and Sirius meet when you’re still young, and yet you fall head over heels for each other. But everything gets complicated when you learn that Sirius is a Wizard! Now, your whole world has to be reimagined. -This series is made of many independent snippets taken from Sirius and Muggle!Reader’s lovestory –

Word Count : 1792

The weather isn’t so warm anymore. September is upon you and with it, a cool breeze has settled over London. The trees remain green and lush for now, but you know they will soon colour themselves in warmer tones, before letting their leaves fall.

Sirius is lying in the grass, by the Serpentine. His head on your laps, he lets you run your fingers through his hair, heaves a content sigh at the soothing feeling. It’s a quiet afternoon, or perhaps it’s only getting late, and families are home already. But Sirius has no intention to move. After all, you’re here, with your fingers in his hair, why would he want to leave?

Besides, tomorrow morning, he’ll go King’s Cross station, run through a wall and board the Hogwarts Express. And then he’ll be off, just like that. Just like that…

He doesn’t see how this can work. How can he even write to you? He can’t use an owl… Euphemia and Fleamont have offered to go the post office, but Sirius is reluctant. He doesn’t want to bother them…

Still, he doesn’t want this to end. He likes you. An awful lot. Actually, he’s starting to truly fall for you, all the way down towards love, but he can’t bring himself to say it out loud or to even think of the word. It’s too hard for him. After living with his family, love is too close to hatred for him to look at you and think of that word. After all, there isn’t an ounce of hatred in his heart targeted towards you.

Anyway, this is not the point. The point is that he’s about to leave for Scotland, and you won’t. The point is that he has no clue how to contact your properly. He’s given you a fake address that will lead to the Potters’ house so you can write to him, but again, he doesn’t want to bother them. He bothers them enough already…

“What’s going in this busy head of yours, honey?”

Honey. You’ve started calling him that about three weeks ago, and he adores it. It sounds so sweet, so much like you in your yellow sundress. So unlike him, in his dark t-shirt and heavy boots. So unlike him, with his name tainted with night…

Sirius merely hums in response, closing his eyes again, the leaves of the oak tree you’re leaning against disappearing beyond his eyelids. You don’t let him get away with it so easily though, he’s almost endeared by it. He would have been, any other day, if the wait of separation wasn’t so heavy on his heart today.

“Sirius? You’re alright?”

He shrugs. He knows he’ll give up in a few seconds, your fingers are too gentle as they get lost in his hair, your warmth too soothing.

He looks up at you again. He’s put his leather jacket on your shoulders about half an hour ago, before he lied down, because he noticed you were shivering. You look adorable. You look beautiful. He never wants this to end. He wants to keep his jacket on your shoulders forever…

“Just… a little sad that I’m leaving,” he admits. “Which is weird, cause I’ve always been eager to go to Hogwarts before.”

You nod, a small smile on your lips.

“Is it because of me?”

“Who else could it be? Certainly not because of Jackie, she’s insufferable.”

“You like her. And she likes you too.”

He can’t refrain a smile at that. He’s surprised when one of your hands leaves his hair to reach for his fingers instead.

“I don’t want us to break up,” you admitted, earnest and suddenly vulnerable, perhaps more so than what you intended.

“Me neither.”

“I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you to come back. It’s only a few months before Christmas. Besides, I’ll write to you, daily if you miss me too much.”

Your tone is teasing, but Sirius winces, and your heart shudders at the sight, a crack runs through the porcelain of it, ready to break altogether.

“You don’t want me to write to you?”

You see Sirius hesitate, and you hate it. And he knows you hate it. It hurts him too.

“I want you to write to me,” he finally answers, after a rather long pause, choosing his words carefully. “But you can’t write directly to my school, it won’t work. And I don’t want to bother the Potters too much…”

Slowly, you nod.

“I see. I understand. Perhaps… not too often?”

Slowly, he nods. He looks worried now, sad even. And he is.

You run your thumb across his knuckles, the tip of your fingers grazing his silver rings, the metal cold against his warm skin.

“They’ve already taken me in after I ran away last summer… I don’t want to be a burden.”

Slowly, you nod. You don’t ask anything, even if Sirius guesses that questions are burning on the tip of your tongue. But you don’t ask. About his family, about why he ran away… you never do. And he’s grateful for it, but sometimes he wonders why you don’t.

Are you afraid? Or simply kind?

He sits up without warning, and his back is almost to you now. He heaves a sigh, putting even more distance between the two of you, and you hate it.

Still, you don’t ask.

His eyes drift towards the river, towards the dirty, muddy water filled with lost feathers. A group of swans swims away, without taking a single look back.

“Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re okay?”

“Of course.”

A pregnant pause. An expectation. You take him aback with your statement.

“I don’t want you to leave. I’ll miss you.”

The ghost of a smile grazes his lips, he reaches for your hand, but doesn’t turn to you for now.

“I’ll miss you too.”

His hold is a little too tight, you know he’s holding back. You’ve grown used to it. Gently, you splay a hand across his spine, the fabric of his t-shirt soft under your palm despite the dust and the dry grass that have clung to the material here and there.

“Please, don’t hold back,” you ask so gently, Sirius’s eyes fill with tears. “It’s our last afternoon together before Christmas. Don’t hold back. What’s bothering you?”

He clears his throat, the tears gone, replaced by a tightly set jaw.

“You never ask.”

“What do you mean?”

“You never ask about my family.”

You shrug.

“I know that it’s difficult for you to talk about it. I reckon… that you’ll tell me more about it when you’re ready. I don’t want to push you, if you’re not ready.”

At long last, he turns to look at you again, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say, anyway…

He hesitates before speaking again. Because it sounds silly. He reckons you won’t understand. And it would hurt a lot more than he can admit. But there’s a weight on his heart, and he wants to lift it, even if it can’t last for long.

“I’m going to see my brother at Hogwarts.”

“Regulus?”

He nods.

“I don’t know how I feel about it,” he confesses. “I miss him. But… I also hate him.”

“Do you hate him? Are you simply angry?”

He considers the question. It’s a little too accurate, and he smiles.

“Yeah… I think I’m angry. I’m angry he chose to stay. I’m angry I can’t protect him anymore. I’m angry he doesn’t have the guts to break free. I’m angry he’s uncertain about my parents beliefs.”

“But you still miss him.”

“Yeah… yeah, I miss him.”

He sets his gaze on the river again, lets go of your hand to wrap his arms around his knees.

“The first time I took the train, my mother was so proud. And I both loved it and hated it. And I think… I’m angry because it didn’t really change. I don’t believe in any of the conservative bullshit my parents are so adamant to defend, and I’ll never forgive them for how much they hurt me and my brother. And yet I… every time I get on that train I see my mother’s face beaming at me and looking at me as if I was the most extraordinary thing in the world, and I long for this feeling again.”

He heaves a sigh.

“I want you to write to me. But the Potters… they didn’t have to take me in, and they did. I don’t want them to regret doing that.”

“I’ll write to you once a month. Would that be alright? That’s not too often.”

Slowly, Sirius nods.

“Okay, I’ll wait for your letter, and I’ll reply.”

“Okay.”

He’s surprised when you wrap your arms around him from behind, when you rest your cheek against his shoulder blade. He loves it though. He feels soothed all over again, his busy mind quietened again. The face of Walburga disappears, and the muddy water is back instead, with its white swans almost disappearing now, in the distance.

“Why do I miss them, when I hate them?”

You tighten your hold on him before you answer.

“They raised you. They loved you, even if it hurt. They taught you how it is to be loved first. You have to rewrite that definition, with better people, better examples. But they’re still your family, even if they hurt you. Your mother still looked at you with pride that day, even if she hurt you only a few hours before. It’s not black and white, like everything else in life. I reckon… it was so familiar a feeling, such a mingling of pain and love, you can’t really tell them apart anymore. Am I wrong?”

Sirius shook his head, stunned.

“I don’t dare asking you questions about your family, because I know it hurts,” you go on, your tone infinitely kind. “But I still care. Do you understand? I care about you, about who you are… I just… don’t want to hurt you. But you can tell me about it whenever you feel ready, okay? I’m… it’s not disinterest, it’s just… caution.”

Slowly, he nods.

“Thank you.”

He holds your hands in his, twisting his neck to press his temple against your hair, closing his eyes.

And his gratefulness tastes like love, but he’s not ready to admit it. You’re right, he needs to redefine the word, before speaking it again, and aim it at you.

When he kisses you, a few minutes later, it tastes like goodbye, but it’s not as sad as you expected it to be. And when he tells you he’ll wait for you, that he’ll wait for Christmas, that you can count on him, it’s easy to believe him…

#sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black series #series #hp fanfiction #hp #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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randomfoggytiger · 2 months

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"You're Only Going to End Up Hurting Yourself"

Part V of the Bill Scully POV mini-series (Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV~.)

(Dedicated to @baronessblixen for her continued interest.)

*****

The first time Bill Scully saw Dana’s child was after the hearing.

Maggie showed him Emily’s picture in passing-- though how or when she’d gotten it, he hadn't known-- mumbling, “I said she doesn’t look like Melissa; but she does, doesn’t she, Bill?” Mulder’s car drove up then; and his mom dashed off to put the photo back.

While Dana and her partner spilled out and wove around each other-- indescribably in sync, shadowing each other-- Bill thought, Yes, she does look like you, Melissa-- more like you than Dana.

*****

He allowed Mulder to stay past polite visiting hours, maintaining a stern but silent distance as much as possible. Because of this man's testimony, Dana stood a chance. Her daughter stood a chance.

“Bill, I’m so tired,” Tara had whispered, massaging her drooping head with both hands. She looked up, eyes clouded with confusion and grief-- for Dana, for this little girl, for their first Christmas as a growing family. “I just want to get some sleep.”

His own headache seemed to radiate from the top of his skull to the slope of his shoulders: everything tensed, everything ached. Wearily standing, he nodded. “Then let’s get you to bed, Honey.”

“He won’t think it’s rude?”

“I don’t think the normal standards apply to him, Tara. It’s late, anyway.”

They lumbered to the staircase, fatigued, when Dana poked through the doorway. “You guys okay?”

Of course they weren’t. His sister was murdered. His other sister had an unidentifiable chip in her neck. His brother had started speaking to him again and sent a gift to Dana for Christmas. His wife’s hard-won holiday was shot. His baby was due two weeks ago. His little sister had a daughter that wasn't hers. His mother was almost sick with worry. The pain never stops.

“Could you take Tara’s other arm so we can…?”

And Dana did, like he knew she would: a need to be of use. Perhaps as penance, for everything.

*****

He should have expected Dana and Mulder would vanish in the night.

He woke a fitful hour later to the surprise of an eerily quiet house; and was still more surprised that the two of them had not simply dropped into a deep sleep on the couch rather than… wherever they’d gone. He didn’t know which outlook was more grim: the thought she’d followed her partner back to his motel or the suspicion that they were both chasing down another lead in the Sims’ case.

It was after eight when the phone rang, about the time Maggie would be up and about.

“Hello? Um, it’s Dana… Mom, if you can pick up the phone--”

“Dana? It’s Bill.”

He heard her long sigh through the wire, wondering how many times she’d watched the clock to increase her odds at avoiding him. “Bill. Hi.”

“Where are you, Dana?”

“I’m… at the hospital. Emily’s sick.”

The pain never stops. “She is? How sick-- what happened?’

“I don’t know, it’s…. She has a rare disorder that was being treated before her parents’ murder. We don’t know…. We’re working on diagnosing her condition right now so we can treat her.”

“Do you want us to be there with you?”

“No. No, I, uh, think it’s best that you and Mom and Tara keep your distance, for now. Until we know something.”

“Is her condition communicable?”

“Bill…. It’s safer if you three stay away.”

“Dana.”

“...Yes?”

“We’ll pray for her.”

*****

Maggie intended to call Dana after lunch, but by eleven o’clock the three of them had checked into labor and delivery. By three, Dana still hadn’t answered her phone; and by four they were transferred to a private room.

“Mom, leave it!” Bill yelled, his wife’s excruciating grip sapping away the last reserves of his patience; but it was Tara’s pleading “Mom,” that drew her back.

It was late when his sister reconnected; and, with labor stalled and an epidural in, he nodded-- with his wife's go-ahead-- at Maggie, who hurried to wherever the Sim girl's ward was and back in under forty minutes.

Matthew was over six hours old before Dana called again. From his periphery, Bill watched his mother grab the phone and dodge into the hall as Tara shifted slightly in her sleep. His all-consuming focus, however, was on the quiet baby in his arms-- staring at his son’s tiny, clenching fists; wondering if his baby hairs would rust like his sisters’ or darken like his own.

He didn’t glance up when Maggie reentered and approached; but he snapped to attention when her quivering exhale broke the silence.

Tears were streaming down her red cheeks, black makeup smearing in small splotches around her eyes.

“Bill….”

Emily was gone.

*****

Dana poured her grief into meticulous planning-- despite wanting to do more, the family was only allowed to assist with sorting paperwork and dialing up Bill's priest for the funeral service.

Between baby Matthew’s homecoming, Tara’s recovery, new parenthood, and necessary arrangements, it took over a week before he realized Mulder no longer came to the house.

*****

The first time Bill saw Dana's child in person was at her wake.

She was Melissa-blonde-- the red not yet prominent enough to shift her from strawberry to flaming redhead-- and Dana chubby. Her pretty little dress still smelled new, its blue perfectly complementing the small, gold cross necklace draped across her neck.

He stood silently by as the funeral director lowered the coffin lid, refusing to think about the fact he’d never gotten to look into his niece's eyes.

*****

New flights were booked two days before Emily’s funeral; and two days after, his mother and sister were packing up for their return trip back to D.C.

“D.C.? Don’t you want to spend time with Mom in Maryland?”

Dana had paused and straightened to her full height. “No. My extended leave is almost up. Besides, I need to get back to work.”

“Back to work? You want to go back to work after everything?”

“Bill,” she snapped; then deflated, slumping onto the bed. “I can’t have this discussion right now.”

“Dana… we almost lost you, we’ve lost Melissa-- now Emily’s buried in my church cemetery. When will it be enough?”

“Bill, please. Don’t.”

She was going to cry. With the lack of sleep, the unreality of the past few weeks, and the infuriating nature of this impossible situation, even he might cry.

As if on cue, Matthew’s wails and Tara’s animated shushes floated down from the master bedroom, by turns swiftly grieved and swiftly soothed. Bill stood, half-in and half-out of Dana's door, trying to fathom the overwhelming protective surge that coursed like fire under his skin. In a split second, something ripped or erected or split apart-- hard to define, but powerful in its finality.

Turning to walk away, he added, “Fine. But tell Mom not to call me when you’re in trouble again, Dana-- I won’t lose my child, too.”

*****

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic

#txf #fic #“You're Only Going to End Up Hurting Yourself”#Bill Scully POV #Bill Scully #S5 #Emily #Emily Sim #Scully #Tara Scully #Maggie Scully #Mulder #xfiles #x-files #the x files #xf fanfic #randomfoggytiger's fic

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kisha-myers · 1 year

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Author's Note: Ive decided to title this - My Anxious Mouse - I think it fits decently 😅 Also, I will TRY to update 1 chapter a day IF I can help it. I've got 2 kiddos under 6 🥴 they keep me on my toes and need my help often. If you have any questions, whether that be about this fanfiction or me, feel free to comment them below! I'm gonna try my hand at a tag list as well (if you want to be added to that PLEASE let me know). Without further ado, let's get on to the good stuff!

Chapter Three: Broken Memories

You had been placed in the back seat of the humvee, your seat belt secured for you as your brain still tried to catch up to what all was happening. You registered the vibration associated to the ignition being turned over, felt the jerk of it all in motion, but as you looked up towards Ghost and König you weren't fully certain what their intentions were. Your dad had always told you to be mindful of those around you, having been a retired navy seal, he knew people were capable of many horrible things.

"They will use your timidity against you - always be vigilant. Men especially, they'll see you and instinctively see prey." His words echoed repeatedly through your rapidly clearing mind, the events of yesterday and today finally catching up to you. You equated it as your body's own version or shock - you just hadn't fully come out of it yet to register much of anything aside from now being in the back of a vehicle with two complete strangers heading to God knows where.

Fear was the first emotion to crash into you in a rolling tidal wave, it crushed the air from you lungs and had your muscles tensing painfully. You curled in on yourself, drawing your legs up slowly, your arms wrapping around them as you buried your face into your knees. Panic was the next emotion to force its way into your consciousness, burning through your veins like a raging inferno that threatened to burn you alive. It caused your stomach to churn mercilessly and spit to pool in your mouth, threatening catastrophe should the contents of your tummy be spewed all over the sanded beige interiror. You forced yourself to calm down as much as you could, opting to breathe in deeply and focus on your senses.

Grounding techniques hadn't always worked for you in the beginning, there were many times you just had to let the panic attack push you to pass out. Through countless years of therapy and many many many sleepless nights, you had learned how to use the technique to soothe you. You started with the sensation of touch, letting the pads of your fingertips brush along the seam of the fabric seat you currently resided on. It wasn't exactly soft, but it wasn't rough either - it was somewhere in between, designed for functionality over comfort you'd guess. You continued to move your fingertips across the seat slowly, letting yourself become familiar with the texture before moving onto your next sense; hearing.

You tilted your buried face slightly, opting to keep your eyes closed to not dull the other sense. The engine, you noted, purred almost in an animalistic way. You knew little to nothing about cars but you were sure the upkeep on this vehicle was immaculate. You turned your head completely, letting your right ear rest against your knees, you face now facing your door as you eyes remained closed. Rain crashed against the windshield leisurely, the rhythmic pounding a comforting sound. The sound of passing cars made you smile, reminding you that although you were here, you still remained in a public place.

Feeling slightly more relaxed than when you started, you decided to continue on, opting to have the next sense be smell. It was strange, you thought, that the interior of a military vehicle could smell like fresh pine and sandalwood. Perhaps it was due to the week old carfreshener that hung from the review mirror, or maybe it was due to their cologne - you weren't entire sure, but you enjoyed the scent nevertheless. There was a sense of familiarity there, notes you could quite place but knew you had smelt it before. It was slightly sweet but nutty, almost like a pistachio cream filling or vanilla almond milk. It wasn't you, your body wash consisted of fruity scents like orange bliss and tropical punch. Your shampoo wasn't any better as it was watermelon and berry scented. You inhaled deeply, letting the fragrance that left you perplexed relax your tensed muscles. You decided you liked that smell, the notion causing a tender smile to burst forth across your lips.

Your heart had calmed enough that you felt it was safe to open your eyes, effectively moving onto the next stage of the technique. Slowly you lifted your lids, blinking a few times to clear the blurriness from your eyes. The first thing you saw was the window, buildings and cars passing you by as the rain glided down the glass. The yellow hued glow bathing the world around you in a somber essence. Stop lights changed from green to red, reminding you subtly of Christmas for the briefest of moments. You watched the world around you silently, eyes watching the raindrops leave little trails as they slid from their position.

The somber silence was broken by the faint buzzing of a cellular device, effectively bursting your bubble of raindrop appreciation. You lifted your head, turning it just in time to see Ghost pull free his phone and tossing it to König.

"You talk to him, my patience is already thin." He growled, making you nearly jump out of your skin. König shot him an incredulous look, heaving out a sigh and sliding the green phone icon over before placing the phone against his ear.

"Guten Morgen Sergeant." He forced between clenched teeth, shooting another annoyed look at Ghost when he saw the man's eyes crinkle in smugness. Johnny's bark of a laugh filter through the receiver loud enough to be heard by you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth slightly agape - you knew that laugh, had heard it most of your life. Questions started rapidfiring through your cranium as you tried to remember everything Johnny had ever told you about his military career.

You knew he had been assigned to a military task force, Task force 141 his paperwork had said, and that he was under the supervision of a woman named Laswell. You knew his Captain, had even had a few opportunities to talk to him over a cup if tea he had so graciously offered to make you. You recalled he was nice enough, a little blunter than you'd expected, but he cracked a joke or two and helped settle your nerves.

You vaguely remembered meeting a rather rambunctious Gaz, but he had ways been busy running errands for their Captain he had been unable to sit and chat with you. The rest of his team had not been present on base at the time but you remember Johnny talking your ear off about his Lieutenant. He was fond of the man, always speaking highly of him - you'd begun to think he was bi with the way his eyes glazed over and his lips would turn up slightly at the corners in mirth.

"Sergeant, while your banter is usually entertaining, now is not the time. It's been a long night, we'll brief you when we get there oh!" Königs blundering of surprise made you jump again, effectively pulling you from your thoughts once more as you snapped your eyes over to him. He was already looking at you, eyes crinkling in the corners the only thing you had to go on to aid in your assumption he was smiling at you, "We have a civilian with us. She was displaced when our apartment caught fire, she will be staying in my room - would you meet us when we get there to show her where it is?" You looked away from him, eyes going back to your window to watch the scenery change.

Houses got less and less before barb wire fences and pop up buildings painted the signature hunter green took over. You were no military brat by any means, your dad had long since retired from being a seal just a year after you were born. You shake out of your stupor long enough to witness the phone being placed into the await skeletal gloved hand of Ghost, his grumbling of impeccable insults under his breath almost enough to make a giggle slip past your lips. A few you'd put away for a later date, having been too perfect to let them be forgotten.

"So..." You say softly, the way you nibbled on your bottom lip muffled your voice slightly, "You two know Johnny MacTavish I take it?" You tried to sound nonchalant, unbothered, but the vexation from yesterday was still a present smoldering rubble within your chest. You visibly saw Ghost stiffen by your tone, his hands clenching the steering wheel so hard you wondered how it didn't just simply break. König looked back at you, his head tilting just enough to convey his curiosity, making the giant of a man who had to hunch slightly to even fit in the car look like a little puppy.

"Ja, we are all stationed here together." He simply replied although you read the question that lingered on the tip of your tongue. You offered up a bitter smile, your right hand coming up to rub your forehead as you sighed softly.

"Johnny was the guy who stood me up. I've know since I was in diapers - he was friends with my older brother before he died while deployed in Iraq. Waited a whole two fucking hours before he called just to check in. I'm upset by it." You muttered under your breath, tilting your chin down and resting it on your knees. You failed to notice both of them exchanging an ire filed stare, silently communicating with one another to teach the Scotsman on how to properly treat a lady.

"So you two dating or what?" Ghosts blunt question fills the silence, hanging over your head and dousing you like a bucket filled with ice water. You grimaced - you loved Johnny, but he wasn't your type. He was handsome yes, you'd never deny that - you couldn't - but he was far too outgoing for your own personal tastes. He loved to go out and explore things, mingle with anyone and everyone - your anxiety was far too out of control for any of that.

"No. He's like family, and it wasn't a date. He called me two nights ago to let me know he was on a temporary leave and wanted to hang out together and catch up. It's been almost a year since I got to see him and I was really looking forward to it and I wanted-" You stopped yourself from finishing that sentence. You wanted many things, but the number one thing was you wanted you brothers dog tags back. Johnny had offered to take them, keep them safe on him as a way to help you heal. At the time of his death you were just barely eighteen - you had just graduated when you saw them. They wore the standard military issued uniform, faces perfect masks of stern indifference. One made the mistake of meeting your eyes - their eyes, you noted, were filled with unshed tears and that is what broke you. Seeing the devastation in their gaze made you knees give out, you remembered the pain that resonated there, the way the concrete bit harshly into your flesh and the warm viscous liquid that made your dress sticky.

That pain was nothing in comparison to the pain that lacerated through your chest. It was as if a boa constrictor had wrapped itself around you you squeezed with everything it had, your lungs releasing all its contents in a 'whoosh', mouth going dry, all the moisture poured from your eyes like a flooded river down stream. He died a hero they had said, one kneeling in front of you - yoy had recognized him from one of the pictures your brother had sent to you while he was deployed, Declan he'd introduce himself as. His hand had found your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before crushing you to his chest in a hug. His companion - Nathan he said - was busy speaking in a hushed conversation with your dad.

'He died a hero, y/n.' You vaguely remember them saying, telling you that he'd even earned the purple heart of bravery. It was meant to comfort you, knowing be died doing what he was passionate about - but it didn't. It left you feeling hollow, empty, like a piece of your very soul had been ripped from your very being and now the seams of yourself unraveled. It was around that time when your anxiety had begun to rear its ugly head, a wolf in sheep's clothing leading you to the slaughter.

A wayward tear slid past your water line and down your cheek, your jaw clenching tightly as you swiped it away with a sniffle, "I uhm." You cleared your throat loudly, refusing to look at either of them, "Johnny took his dog tags for me. My mom didn't want them, my dad said he didn't deserve them and our little sisters didn't understand their significance so they were supposed to go to me along with his flag. I was drowning in my grief that Johnny offered to hold onto them for me until I was ready to fully process it - said that all I had to do was ask him for them and they'd be mine. I wanted to ask him yesterday but... but he stood me up." Your voice faltered at the end, your lips pressed firmly together in a pensive line to keep your bottom lip from trembling.

The silence that filled the humvee was deafening, Ghost and König were at a loss for how to comfort you. They all knew the risks of war - of the loss it brought. They'd seen countless soldiers be killed in action, each of them having retrieved a few hundred dog tags to be returned to families as a way to offer some semblance of closure. They shared another look, one that declared they were both going to beat the snot out of Johnny when they had the opportunity to.

The rest of the ride remained that way, you lost in your broken memories of your older brother and his endless teasing, and them sharing silent conversations through gestures and looks. You didn't know it right then, but the two peeved males nestled in their seats had come to an agreement. Not only would the kick Johnny's ass, but they'd make sure he'd fix this - that he'd make this right. After all, they couldn't let their little mouse loose herself - not when she had fallen so willingly into their hands.

Your life was going to change drastically... you just were unaware of how much that'd be.

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