#( but i’d be lying if i said I wasn’t sad I woke up this morning 🙃 )

[hwan-g]

so like…… how do you move on from seeing your bias in your dream…..

[mintkookiess]

If Only.

Worst mistake to write angst while listening to a sad playlist oh my god I kid you not, I started ugly sobbing during the climax that I needed a quick break before continuing. Don't mind me, just gonna sulk in a corner for a while.

Love,

Mint

Summary: Hanahaki disease. That’s all I’m placing here.

Tags: Miles Morales x reader, Hanahaki disease, angst (no happy ending again), death, don't forget your tissues, not proofread, maybe I'll do it later

Warnings: Major character death, mentions of blood

Your eyes pried open on another normal, already dragging, Tuesday morning. The alarm clock on your bedside table wasn’t even loud enough to wake you, seeing as how you slept through it. You carefully laid to your side, as the all-too-familiar cough climbed up your throat. This went on for a minute until you see a small pile of petals on the floor. 

“Shit…” You muttered to yourself, groggily grabbing the glass of water that you’d already prepared the previous night like always. This was the normal morning routine for you.

Wake up. Cough those stupidly red petals. Get through the day. Cough even more petals. Go home. Sleep. Repeat.

On this particular morning, however, it was quite different because you could hear the voice of your best friend outside your dorm.

“Hey, you awake yet?” Miles asked, knocking softly to make sure he doesn’t wake you if you were still asleep. You always thought that was kind of him. 

You forced yourself up and out of your bed, shoving back the blankets then dragged your feet to open the door. 

“I’m awake. Why are you here? Thought you’d be waiting at the school entrance like usual.” You said huskily, still with that morning voice. Your best friend shook his head, “I kinda woke up a little early today so I thought I’d come to pick you up from your place instead.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. 

He was just too good for you.

“Fine. Let me get changed at least.” You chuckled, before closing the door in his face. You laid your back against it, sliding down to the floor as you felt that familiar ache in your chest.

In just a few seconds, you started hacking once more right then and there.  

Ah, was it because I wasn’t expecting him here this morning?

“H-Hey, you good?” You hear Miles ask from the other side, making you scramble up. “I’m fine Miles just um… choked on my saliva.” You lied. Your hands quickly grab the tiny broom and pan you kept and started sweeping up all the red petals that decorated your floor. 

You then threw every single last one in your already overflowing bin. I’d have to clear that out before he sees it.

You quickly changed into some more decent clothes before grabbing your bag and heading out to see Miles laying against the opposite wall of the door, he gave you a small smile and stood up. “Ready?” 

You nodded in response, making sure to lock your door before you both head down. 

“Oh right, Gwen is actually coming with us to class today if that’s okay,” Miles said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his hair. 

You made it like your life’s mission to ignore Gwen at all costs. It was entirely selfish, but it wasn’t like it really did you any favors with your… disease. Miles had confronted you about this a couple of times, but you just came up with lie after lie. You didn’t want to, because you can’t exactly tell him the true reason. 

Of course, your best friend knew you were lying, but he just didn’t want to pry because it might make you uncomfortable. And you were thankful for that. Until now. 

“Miles—”

“I know I know I just… It was a last-minute thing.” Miles said, trying to reason with you, “It’ll be just this once I swear. I know you’re not exactly a fan of her but, can’t you still try? I mean maybe if you got to know her better—“

“Fine.” You sighed, finally agreeing. 

Doctor Sanchez’s words suddenly echoed in your head like a siren that was loudly warning you. 

“Stop feeding yourself even more hurt. Ignore, lie, and do anything you can to stop. It’ll slow it down, but not much.”

Oh, how you knew. This was practically engraved into your mind, heart, body, and soul. You said this to yourself so many times like an oath. Avoid the hurt. 

But you can’t keep being a bad friend to Miles any more than you already have. 

The both of you continued to walk to the lobby of your school in complete silence. Miles could only bite his lip in nervousness, though he just wanted to ask why you happened to dislike Gwen so much, he just didn’t want to make you mad. His grip on his backpack’s straps only tightens at the thought. 

What is really going on with you? He thought to himself. 

Your eyes stared straight forward as you both reached your destination. It wasn’t long until it spotted the familiar blonde girl from a distance.

Gwen gave a light wave to the two of you as she walked toward where you both were standing. 

“Hey Gwen, what’s up?” Miles greeted, his face lighting up in an instant like some Christmas tree in New York. 

You forced yourself to look away but still got a glimpse of it. 

Why did I agree to this?

Your chest tightened, and you instinctively covered your mouth with a hand. No please, not here. Not right now.

“Um hey…” Gwen cautiously greeted you. She tried to give you a friendly smile to which you only nodded.

Miles could already sense the growing tension and suddenly clapped his hands together. “So, physics class? We gotta bounce or we’d all be marked late.” 

“Yeah, we should go.” You mumbled, walking past them while still covering your mouth as if it would stop the cough that was threatening to let out. 

Gwen and Miles looked at each other worriedly but silently followed behind you. 

You could hear them talk in hushed voices behind you, but your entire focus was on trying to not cough in the school hallways. 

The Hanahaki disease isn’t exactly a secret. Everyone knows what it is. And you’d rather burn in hell than have people find out. Especially him and her.

Your other hand clutched your chest as you tried to walk faster because you wanted to keep a safe distance between you and the other two as much as possible before you practically start vomiting those red petals on the school floors. 

“Is… she okay?” Gwen whispered to Miles with clear concern. She knew you didn’t exactly like her, she wasn’t an idiot. Gwen believes that it’s because she suddenly entered your two-man friend group without warning when in reality, it was so much more than that. 

“Sorry about her…” Miles sighed, his head hung low and a frown decorated his lips. You were his absolute best friend, and to see you being like this with Gwen makes him ache. If only, he could know what was wrong, but he also wanted to respect your space. It has him torn between two cautious choices that could end up in the worst way possible. He just didn’t know how deep the consequences would be. 

Other than the different morning you had, it was just like any other day. You were able to stop yourself from coughing for the most part, but if you couldn’t take it you’d excuse yourself to the bathroom, letting out a few petals in the toilet and flushing them away. 

During lunchtime, it was usually just you and Miles at the cafeteria, but Gwen decided to tag along once again. So you had the utmost pleasure to see the two joke about and discuss things that you never understood because you weren’t a Spider person like them.

You watched as Miles laughed and smiled at everything she said, and all you could do was mindlessly stab your food in hopes of drowning out and forgetting what you're currently witnessing. However, you immediately started coughing. Your hands instantly flew to your mouth to keep the petals in your mouth. 

You gave Miles a panicked look before running out the cafeteria and into the bathroom, immediately vomiting all the petals that had accumulated inside your mouth, and for the rest of lunch, you were stuck there, filling up the toilet with the petals that were such an eye sore to you as hot tears flowed down from your eyes.

Miles had tried to bring it up during the succeeding classes, only for you to turn him down every single time. He finally gave up, but was still worried because he sensed something different about you today. 

Your doctor did prescribe you some suppressants for the disease, but you refused it time and time again. Taking those suppressants would make you slowly lose grip on your feelings for Miles. 

As much as it hurt you, you didn’t want that. 

To hell with those fucking petals, who cares if it’s taking your life little by little every day?  Your love for him was too great, too good of a feeling. It was worth it. 

It’ll be worth it. 

When you asked your doctor how much more time you have left, they didn’t give a direct answer but you knew. You already knew that it wasn’t long. Few months give or take. Maybe even shorter than that.

Once classes were done, you gave Miles your usual goodbye hug before heading out of campus to the hospital for your daily check-up for the Hanahaki disease. 

Your doctor did the usual tests, examining a petal of yours, conducting blood tests, scans, etc. 

After an hour, she called you back into her office for the results. You were halfway into taking your seat as she already shoots the question that you’d been dreading to be asked. 

“Have you been taking your suppressants?” 

In truth, you didn’t tell her that the pills were just laying on the floor somewhere in your dorm. You weren’t going to be lectured by your doctor. 

“Yes.” You lied, eyes looking everywhere in her office but her. Your eyes focused on this particular vase, where a single flower laid there. It was the same shade of red as yours, making you chuckle.

Before your doctor could start telling you about how important commitment was to the treatment, you start wheezing. 

But this time, it felt different. 

Your lungs felt like they ran out of air, your throat was like it had been clogged and you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes widened as you took sharp inhales, but for some reason, you couldn’t exhale at all. You fell off your chair and into the floor, gripping your throat, nails digging to scratch your skin from the excruciating pain. 

Doctor Sanchez was quick to get down to you, rubbing your back as her face filled with worry. “It’s at its final stage, you have to tell him—“

“No!” You yelled, surprised that you were even able to utter a single word. Shortly after that however, you were back to heaving. Your hand was now in a fist, punching your chest in an attempt to get out whatever it was that was in your lungs. 

Your mind started to fog up, and your vision was slowly going black until you saw it. 

The fully formed flowers on the ground. 

There were no petals, this time they were fully bloomed roses. 

They were so pretty that it was almost laughable. Something beautiful was stemming from your despair and suffering. At least there was one thing good happening from your godforsaken disease. 

Miles, on the other hand, barged into your dorm to bring the textbooks he borrowed from you, or at least that’s what his excuse was gonna be to you. It was your number one rule that he shouldn’t just come into your room when you were gone, but he could sense something off with you today. Much more than usual. And he was determined to find out.

He had an extra key for emergencies, so he entered without any problems. He took in your room, setting down the textbooks on your desk as he took a seat by the edge of your bed. 

She’s not here. He thought to himself, sighing. 

As his brown eyes roamed the different bits and bobs around your dorm, he suddenly spotted something behind your desk. Miles squinted his eyes, wondering what it was. “Is that… a petal?” He wondered out loud. He crept up to it, crawling under your desk to grab the petal. “What the…” His fingers examined it carefully until he spotted something from the corner of his eye. There were more. 

A lot more.

His eyes slowly widened at the bin of red petals. It was so full that the petals had dissipated around it on the floor. Miles’ eyebrows scrunched up together, wondering where all these could be from until… it dawned on him. 

“Hanahaki? But… but how I…” He stuttered. He pulled the bin towards him with shaking hands, inspecting the petals that had a rich shade of red. Almost similar to that of his Spiderman suit. 

She… She had this all along and hid it from me I…

He spots another item, it was a pill bottle. Except its contents were scattered, and the bottle itself was cracked as if it was thrown against the wall and fell behind your desk. 

Miles picked it up, dreading to see what it was. He slowly turned it around to see the words “Hanahaki suppressants - Y/n L/n 30 pills 150 mg” written in big bold letters that stared back at him.

He drops it out of shock, chest heaving and breaths coming in quickly. 

He was confused, so confused about everything. Why would you hide such a thing from him…? 

Doctor Sanchez called for emergency assistance, she grabbed the intercom in a panic. “Code blue! I repeat code blue! Medical assistance to room 1304 now! Code blue!” 

In a matter of seconds, doctors and nurses have already carried your body to a hospital bed, as roses continuously shook out of your mouth.

Your entire body was flaring up and all you could do was scratch your neck so hard that it almost draws blood. Your nose and ears have started to bleed out, and it was as if your skull was being cut open and stabbed repeatedly.

You couldn’t even form words as the nurses continued to push you into room 1304 for emergency treatment. The people at the hospital looked over in pity and nervousness as they watched the girl with the Hanahaki disease being pushed across the hallway as roses start to flood after her bed like a trail. 

Even if it felt like the pain was eating your entire body alive, all you could think of was him. 

Please, I need to see him. Even for just one more second, please.

But Miles doesn’t even know anything about this, and it just increases your already large amount of regret. 

I should’ve told him. Even though I know he doesn’t like me back, I should’ve told him. 

He’s my best friend. And I can't even say goodbye.

But maybe this was for the best. I wouldn't want him to see me in such a pathetic state.

Miles was quick to suit up, flinging himself out of your window in a matter of miliseconds. He didn’t know where to find you, and all he could do was rack his brain on the places that you could be in. As he continuously swung around the city, tears formed in his eyes behind his mask.

He was angry. So angry at himself for not noticing. Furious at the fact that he already knew something has been off with you for the past months, but he didn’t try hard enough to know what it was. He was mad because he just let you suffer alone. 

Some friend I am. He thought on repeat. 

He tried to use his senses to see if he could pinpoint your location, running and swinging between endless crowds and roads, because something felt terribly wrong. 

Miles didn’t know what exactly it was, but he knew. 

He had to hurry.

“Time of death… 5:47 pm.” Your doctor read from the monitor in a monotone voice. She wrote down the information with trembling hands. Her eyes crept up to see you on the hospital bed, frozen and still.

The static sound of the heart monitor was so deafening and seemed louder than it normally was. There was a heavy silence in the hospital’s emergency area as everyone present stood still. 

Another poor youthful soul had been taken by such a cruel disease.

Suddenly, the door banged open, and there stood Miles who was breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. 

His brown eyes spotted you and it was as if time had stopped running, as if the world around him disappeared just like that. 

Miles slowly took in the sight before him, your doctor who stood by the edge of your bed with a deep frown, you who was laying still, eyes closed. He also tried to process the flowers that filled up the entire floor of the room. These were roses, but he knew their petals. 

“I believe you are him?” Doctor Sanchez asked with a poor attempt at a professional tone. Miles’ mouth was still agape in shock, his mind refusing to process what he was seeing as he slowly looked at her. “Wh-What?” The doctor sighed, hugging her clipboard to her chest. “You’re her unrequited love, yes? You’re Miles Morales?”

The poor boy couldn’t muster a single word right now, so all he could do was slightly nod at her. “Time of death was 5:47, the cause is… Hanahaki.” She reported with an aching heart as she sees Miles’ expression. 

“I… I never knew until I saw the…” Miles couldn’t even bring himself to say it, that maybe if he didn’t then all of this wouldn’t be true. He took slow steps towards you, each one being heavier than the last as if they weighed a thousand pounds.

It felt as if his heart stopped beating, and his body no longer functioned as he stared down at you. His quivering fingers tried to grab your hand, only to find that it was cold… Too cold…

Right at that second, tears had already started to stream down his cheeks silently. Miles bit his lip hard as he started to harden his grip on your hand. He placed it between both his hands and he rubbed violently.

Maybe if he did so, he’d be able to bring back some warmth into your body. Maybe he’d feel that familiar tingling sensation that he always felt when both your hands would touch. He was silently praying that it was a prank, that he’d feel your fingers wrap around his, and that you’d tell him you were fine. 

But it never came. 

Your chest wasn’t rising up and down, there seemed to be no more color in your face, no more life. Your lips have turned a faint blue as dried blood surrounded your nose and ears. 

He refused to think of what this meant. He wasn’t going to believe it. He… He just can’t. 

“But I… I love her too.” Miles hiccuped between tears. He felt his legs give out, making him fall to his knees but the flowers had cushioned him from hitting the floor. Even in this state, you manage to keep him from feeling pain.

Doctor Sanchez’s breath hitched in her throat and she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “She thought you liked someone else. She didn’t want you to worry so she hid it I… I’ve tried to tell her that she should confess, to tell you how she felt but she… she was dead set on thinking that… she was never enough for you.” After one last breath, she walked towards the door. “I’ll… give you some privacy.”

Once the door closed behind him, Miles weakly stood up and that’s when it started. He let out the most painful cry so loud that everyone outside the room could hear. 

His hands gripped his hair, pulling at it vigorously as he continued to bawl his heart out in agony. 

The truth was, he loves you more than anyone in this entire world. He loves you with every fucking fiber of his being, with every cell in his body. All of it was yours, every heartbeat of his was dedicated to you. You were a major part of why he wanted to keep being Spiderman, so he could protect you. 

So he could shield you away from any harm or danger. 

And yet, he still couldn’t save you. 

He started to feel suffocated as he punched the floor with his fists, almost cracking it in the process. 

He was so goddamn furious at himself. 

He felt like the biggest fucking coward in the entire universe. 

If only, if only he had mustered even the slightest of courage to tell you of how he felt, then this wouldn't have happened. You'd still be alive. 

Miles was now wailing in anger and pain that he couldn’t even begin to describe. 

The realization has finally started to kick in. 

He had lost you. 

You suffered alone because you thought your love for him was unrequited and would never have been returned. 

You didn’t believe in the possibility. But oh how wrong you were.

You didn't see the passion, love, and admiration in his eyes whenever he looked at you. You failed to notice the little things he did for you, like remembering your favorite things, or bringing you to your favorite places.

How he would pluck flowers from the school garden and gave it to you, or maybe even the times where he'd let you copy his answers on a test.

You just thought he was such a good friend.

If only… If only the both of you have tried a bit harder. Maybe then, it didn’t have to end this way.

Fin.

More of my Miles content here babes!

(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)

[calaisreno]

Diagnosis

974 words / Prompt: Night / CW: Sad

After, I stayed at Baker Street as long as I could, but every morning that I woke up and found him gone plunged me into darkness. Everything reminded me. 

When I couldn’t sleep, I walked. I could never escape the memories, though. If I did sleep, they were there, waiting for me. 221B was full of memories, lacking him. At night, walking was better than lying in bed, sleepless, with the past. 

Sometimes at night I saw him. Wherever I walked, he would eventually appear, waiting in a doorway, sitting on a bench in the park. Without speaking, he would fall in step with me.

“You must be a vampire,” I told him one night. “I only see you after dark.” 

Vampires are not real, he said. 

“Are you real?” I asked. 

I could almost hear him smiling. You didn’t invent me.

Once I asked him if he would come home with me. He didn’t answer. 

I drank during the day, walked at night, and thought about going back to work. 

I slept in his bed. Even to myself, I seemed crazy. I thought about dying.

After a month of this, drinking and walking, it came to me that I had to leave. Mrs Hudson was lovely, but it was impossible for me to explain it to her, so I just left a note, promising to stop in at some point and pick up my things. 

I waited until night, took my bag and slipped out the door like a thief. As I looked back, I saw a tall figure in a Belstaff coat following me.

I’d travelled back in time to a depressing bedsit. To a life where Sherlock didn’t exist, where those few months at 221B were something I’d dreamed. 

The first day I returned to work at the hospital, a few people stopped me to offer polite condolences. I thanked them, saying the same empty things over and over. After a couple days, nobody reminded me that he was dead and I was alone. On my way home I bought more liquor. Vodka this time, since it didn’t leave much odour on the breath.. 

 Like a sleepwalker, I trudged along for weeks, not sure where I was heading. Life was just eating and sleeping, taking the bus to work and coming home, watching the telly, smiling at people, saying meaningless things. 

At night, I walked in a liminal space where he might still exist.

“This patient came in,” I told him one night. “Five years old, high fever, skin peeling right off his palms, bright red eyes.”

He glanced at me, intrigued. Diagnosis? 

“Kawasaki disease. Never saw a case before.”

What tipped you off?

“When he stuck out his tongue and I saw how swollen and red it was, I remembered reading about that and it all just clicked together.” 

Satisfying when that happens, he said, nodding.

He seemed as restless as I was, and began turning up in places I didn’t expect. There were always the all-night convenience shops, and if I had something to pick up he would follow me inside, just out of eyeshot, reminding me to get the biscuits he liked, recommending jams that I might want to try. What about these chocolate biscuits? Or maybe the ones with apricot filling. 

Sometimes he was there in the A&E, making observations and acting bored when I ignored him, as I had to. “Can’t have people thinking I’m losing my mind, talking to people who aren’t there,” I muttered.

I heard him scoff. No, we can’t have that.

But usually I only saw him when I wasn’t working. When I arrived at my sad little flat after work in the early morning, he would be leaning on the door, waiting for me. Almost every day I had a story for him, a new case to describe. He asked odd questions: Did you look at his fingertips? Did his breath smell like ammonia? Did she have freckles, not the usual kind, but darker? Did her skin look waxy? 

He’d always said, People see, but they do not observe. As I examined my patients, I tried to use his eyes to observe the things that might solve the case. And gradually I realised that I’d become the go-to doctor for bizarre diagnoses. The Sherlock Holmes of Barts Hospital.

Impressive, Dr. Watson, he said. You’ve become quite the detective. 

“You taught me,” I said. “It was from you that I learned to see everything differently. As you always say, the world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance observes.” 

He smiled but said nothing. Though he loved receiving compliments, he was stingy in his praise of others. Once he’d praised something, there was no need to say it again just so my ego could bask in it. 

At other times, he was critical. You’re rotting your brain, he said one afternoon when I got out of bed and looked at my bloodshot eyes. You have talent — why are you doing this to yourself?

I didn’t point out that he had often rotted his brain with worse things. He had more or better brain cells, I suppose, and often needed to slow his mind down just to keep it from crashing out of exhaustion. 

But he was always more solicitous of my health than of his own. He scolded me now. You’re not taking care of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m really fucked up and I don’t know what to do about it. I miss you so much.”

I felt, rather than heard his chuckle. Try to remember all the things that used to annoy you. Try to remember what a prat I was.

“You weren’t,” I told him. “You were wonderful. I love you.”

The room was silent. When I looked up, he was gone.

[herlondonboy]

Emotional

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: requested (find request here)

Warnings: mentions of periods, dissecting frogs. This is based off of my own experiences with periods LMAO, spelling mistakes (as always). Comfort, no hurt.

Word Count: 0.6k

You could feel your period coming from a mile away. The whole week before you had been feeling sour. Even more so than usual, at least. You had accidentally made Eugene cry by saying that Enid would never date him. And because of that, you’d been been sad the rest of the day.

A week later, you got your period and you’d been in more pain that you thought was possible. Enid had brought you a hot water bottle and Eugene a bee pillow pet by the name of Eugene Jr. All dropped off by Wednesday because you didn’t want to see anyone.

Wednesday knocked on your door after school on the fourth day and you groaned. “Fuck off, Wednesday!” You exclaimed.

Wednesday walked in anyway. “I will not ‘fuck off.’” She said. “You’re in pain and I’d like to help.” You groaned, pushing yourself up with a glare. Wednesday brought your favourite snacks and drinks and made her way over to you. “I heard that if you put pressure on your lower back it relieves you of some pain.” She said.

You rose your eyebrow as Wednesday made herself comfortable on your stomach, the weight of her body making your push down onto the mattress. You moaned in relief and wrapped your arms around her. “Thank you, love.”

“No problem.” Wednesday mumbled, pushing her head into your chest.

The two of you stayed in that position until the morning when Enid burst into the room. “Oh!” She sighed, panting for breath. “Wednesday, I thought you died! You don’t show up, you don’t call, you apparently cuddle.” She looked at the glare Wednesday gave her as you were still sleeping with her in your arms.

When you woke up, you opened your phone to see a bunch of photos of you and Wednesday lying in bed. They started off with Wednesday glaring at Enid then Wednesday gently removing herself from you, lastly, blurry photos where Wednesday had grabbed the phone.

That day was the first time you went back to lessons since you had been on your period started. You could tell it was coming to an end by how much your pain had subsided. It no longer hurt to sit up. For you, after the anger, came the overwhelming sadness. Wednesday was alarmed when you sobbed over the frog that you were dissecting in biology (it wasn’t the first time you’d dissected an animal, but it was the first time you’d cried).

“But it’s just a little baby.” You cried as you cradled the dead frog in your hands. The biology lesson has come to a sudden halt when you wouldn’t let anyone carve into the amphibians.

“Miss Addams, could you take her out. Please.” The teacher said in exasperation.

Wednesday nodded and looked at you. “y/n, drop it.”

“B-but-“ You hiccuped. Wednesday gave you the look and you cried even harder.

“I’ll get you a pet frog, just put down the dead one.” Wednesday said quietly. Your eyes widened in glee as you dropped the dead frog and allowed Wednesday to pull you out of the class. “You’re so difficult.”

You began tearing up again. “You hate me?” You asked.

“y/n- No! That’s not what I said.” Wednesday pointed at you as your shoulders began to shake in a silent cry. “Why do i put up with you?” Wednesday mumbled in annoyance as she took your hand. “Ice cream?”

“Yes! I knew you loved me.” You began skipping down to the kitchen. Wednesday huffed as you dragged her along.

Wednesday did get you a pet frog but it died four months later and you held a funeral for it.

[bagopucks]

Blurbs

Any Player x Reader

✄————————————

His flushed cheeks brought a sad smile to my lips. I’d been running my finger over the bridge of his nose for countless minutes, occasionally venturing to smooth his brows and drag my thumbs across his cheekbones. A strategy I learned would put him to sleep quickly, thanks to the help of his mother.

I didn’t know where the random flu came from, but I knew my poor guy was out for the count. I thought he was lying when he said he couldn’t get himself out of bed, but when he truly struggled, and I saw the shake in his body, I knew something was wrong. He was burning up, so I limited the amount of blankets he could have to a measly single sheet. He wasn’t happy. He kept complaining that he was cold, and his body’s shivers did no help to defend my case. I knew however, that he would be fine, and that he was really burning up.

I couldn’t count how many times he’d gotten up and sprinted to the bathroom, only for his stomach to try and empty itself. He hadn’t eaten anything all day, so most of it was disgusting stomach acid and mucus. I rubbed his back every time, and when he returned to bed, I’d rub his stomach.

He seemed to enjoy that. Claimed it was soothing on his sore stomach, and I assumed it would have felt nice on the rest of his body. Gentle massages were another method to get him out quickly, but I learned that tracing his features with my fingers worked faster. His quiet snores filled the room, breathing through his mouth because his nose was stuffed. He was usually not one to sleep naked, but he found it easier to minimize the sweating with just the sheet and a pair of boxers over and on his body. Andy Griffith played on the tv across from the bed, a peaceful show that didn’t get him too worked up when he did wake up, but it was also interesting enough to keep his attention.

It was nostalgic as well. I received the occasional text from his mother, responding to questions I had for medication advice, or simply asking if he was okay. She was incredibly helpful, and she was the other thing keeping me entertained while I sat in bed half beneath my sleeping lover. I was supposed to have a girls’ day out with the ladies of the team. I cancelled on them as soon as I heard his voice when he woke up.

If the bathroom was not the first thing he looked for, I was, when he woke up.

With a quiet, “baby?” And an attempted lift of his head, I’d shush him and run a hand through his hair.

“Rest, hun.” He hated resting, but at the same time I think he enjoyed the lazy time with me. Despite his aching body and his miserable temperature.

“Please…” I didn’t always know what he was asking for, but the quiver in his tone would force me to try every theory until I heard him let out a relieved sigh.

Usually he just wanted his stomach rubbed, or a massage on a few muscles. Especially his hands. He seemed to love the gentle rhythmic feel of my thumbs rubbing circles against his palms while I held his hands.

It seemed what he enjoyed most was the occasional feel of cold air on his face as well. Which was why it became a routine of mine from the early hours of the morning, to grab the magazine on my dresser as a first resort when he mumbled out a quiet plea for help. Sometimes he’d even manage a smile when I could cool his face off with the subtle air from the home decor booklet.

“How’re ya feeling, bubs?” I would whisper between fanning him and pushing his hair back.

“I’m okay.” He would mutter in return, usually before disaster struck.

[alpydk]

The Circling Sky (Part 7)

Time for another dose of angst - I did warn this was not a happy story from the start...

Her dismissal bothered him a little. It reminded him oddly of his meeting with Elminster and Tav’s attempts to cheer him up. They’d tried for hours after the stabilisation of the orb to discuss it with him, to make him see reason about Mystra’s request and yet he’d pushed them aside, deep in his own thoughts and his mind made up over what he had been told to do. Something that he had been prepared to do for a long while. Is this how Tav had felt? Helpless? Lost?

Ao3 Link

Gale woke the next morning alone, the sheets next to him now creased and cold as he reached his arm over them in search of the company he had shared with the night before. Had the night been that bad that Lissa could not stand to be around him or had her father dictated a command to her that she had to obey? He rose from the bed, pushing away his wild locks of hair, before getting dressed and going in search of her.

She sat at a table outside, seemingly lost in thought as he found her. The air was cool and crisp; a soft dew settled over the surfaces. He approached, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder only to pull back as she flinched at his grasp. “Sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, no. You didn’t.” She looked up at him, her eyes betraying the pleasant tones of her voice.

“Is everything alright? You seem a little more subdued than I would have expected.” He sat down beside her and noticed as the familiar tapping of her fingers began.

“I’m fine. A little tired after you kept me up last night.” A small smile but without the following brightness of her eyes that he had learnt to recognise.

He placed his hand over hers and gave it a soft squeeze. “Lissa... If you regret last night, then so be it, but you need not hide it from me. I’m an adult and can accept a little heartbreak more than most.”

Lissa looked away from him considering the words he had said. He watched as she sighed deeply and he prepared himself for the comments that would follow, that maybe he had not been good enough after his long pause, or maybe she had just decided that it was a quick fling, and she wasn’t as interested as he’d initially believed her to be.

“Gale... it’s not that, it’s-”

Her voice was cut off by the shout of the innkeeper. “Is there a cleric about!?”

***

Lissa stood at the entrance to the small room, her father’s body lying on the bed in front of her.

“Dead for some hours, I’d say.” “Booze probably. He was drinking quite a lot on the trip.” “Could have been his heart, he was moaning about it a bit yesterday.” “You’d think ‘is daughter would’ve noticed.” “Yeah, but she’s been flirting with that wizard, ain’t she.” “Well, wouldn’t you? He’s not ‘alf bad.” “Wait, isn’t that...?”

She ignored the gossip of the travellers who’d spent the journey falling for Viktor’s charms. All she could do was focus on the corpse that lay a short distance from her. She’d always thought of this moment, of some dramatic breakdown, sobbing into the arms of someone or crying to the gods, and yet, here, now, it was only confusion. She felt sick, happy, numb. She longed for her mind to focus on one sensation alone, but it jumped from memory to memory, to his body lifeless in front of her. His colour was different, unnaturally pale, almost grey in the light; she didn’t recognise him and yet did at the same time. This man, her father, dead.

She looked at the floor, the walls, the bedsheet, anything to get her mind to start working, to start processing. She felt Gale’s soft hand lightly touch her own, a form of comfort in these moments, or at least it would have been comforting if she was feeling the overwhelming sadness she had expected. “I need something to eat.” The food she would cope with; food was an acceptable response right now, wasn’t it?

***

She sat with the small plate of bread picking at it, Gale watching her every move, waiting for the breakdown that was to come. “I’m fine, really,” she said, not making eye contact with him.

He sighed at her words. “Lissa, it’s quite acceptable to be upset at this time. You don’t have to hold it all in.”

Tap, tap, tap, the fingers under the table. “Ah, it’s fine. This is what I wanted after all.” She lifted her head with a smile and a distant look in her eyes. “We’ll just transport him to Baldur’s Gate as planned and cremate him there, I suppose. It’ll be just like when he was passed out, only cheaper...” Her mind pulled in opposite directions, guilt already plaguing her about her choice of words, but the anger driving her forward. Where was the freedom she was promised? What were all these new feelings she had not been warned of?

“You know that’s not possible, my dear. To transport him.” She heard the seriousness of his tone, the way he was trying to provide solace but also meaning in his words. Her father would have to be buried close by before his body inevitably broke down; another inconvenience given to her from beyond the grave.

Lissa nodded at his words. “Then I guess we should get started.”

“Do you not need time? This is a lot to be dealing with.”

“No, it needs to be done and I don’t want to hold up the caravan because of him.” She was already starting to move to get things prepared, her body going into autopilot and approaching the innkeeper to ask for details; Who could she pay? Where would it happen? This was much easier to focus on than the hard truth of the matter. He had died, and it was all her fault.

***

Gale watched from the table as she discussed her options with the innkeeper, handing over a small locket from around her neck, another memory given away in payment for her father’s needs. He stood to offer his own services, but as he approached, she turned to him. “I’ve dealt with it all. I can manage this. Why don’t you just go and pack.”

Her dismissal bothered him a little. It reminded him oddly of his meeting with Elminster and Tav’s attempts to cheer him up. They’d tried for hours after the stabilisation of the orb to discuss it with him, to make him see reason about Mystra’s request and yet he’d pushed them aside, deep in his own thoughts and his mind made up over what he had been told to do. Something that he had been prepared to do for a long while. Is this how Tav had felt? Helpless? Lost?

He went to his room and began to arrange his belongings. She’d yet to shed a tear or even react to what had happened. He briefly wished he had access to the tadpole to be able to hear the constant thoughts undoubtedly racing through her head, but what good would that do if he couldn’t understand them? He straightened out the bedsheets, last night’s events now a distant memory.

***

Viktor was buried in a shallow grave a short distance from the inn, a small wooden stick marking the location, Lissa wanting to waste little time in the area. Her logic was that they were holding up the rest of the travellers and she could not afford to do that. The last of the dirt settled over the corpse and still the tears would not come as she wanted. This should have been the moment to say goodbye, to let the grief flow and yet it didn’t. She just wanted to keep moving, to keep busy and process everything. She felt as Gale stood with an arm around her, waiting for the moment of mourning to begin.

She had no flowers, no words of love, of life, of how much she would miss her father. She had nothing. At least that part he had been consistent with when it came to his death. She turned from the spot, flattening down her shirt. “I guess, it’s time we got moving.”

Gale gripped her wrist as she began, stopping her from leaving. “Do you not want to say a few words? Have a moment alone with him perhaps?”

“I’d rather we continued where we left off last night if anything.” She leaned up at him, a playful smile on her face, but an uneasiness in the way she looked at him; Anything to keep going, to stop thinking.

“Lissa-"

“Don’t Lissa me. Look, we’ve got one week of travel left. Or well...” She thought back to the reason she was even on this journey. It had all been for him, her father looking for his escape. Well, he had found it, but now she had no reason to be where she was, on the route to Baldur’s Gate. “I suppose you have one week left. I need to figure out what I’m doing.”

Gale released his grip on her. “Continue with me. If I’m quite honest with you, I don’t really want to entertain the thought of leaving you alone at this time.”

She gave him a smile. “Let’s go then.”

***

The cart rocked and Lissa rested her body into Gale’s arm, his warmth a welcome change from the distance they’d had to hold when her father had been there. Her mind kept hopping between the night and the morning, two very different events but both bringing equal discomfort that she wanted to ignore; Gale’s hands controlling her body, her father’s death controlling her emotions.

Gale had said very little to her since they had left the inn, most likely unsure of what to say. You can’t show sympathy to someone pretending everything is okay. You can’t wipe away the tears that won’t come. He’d still stayed by her side though, waiting and watching. That was enough. That was something she wanted.

She reached for a journal in her pack and started scribbling notes, inspiration as always striking when she was at her worst. Small poems reflecting abuse, others about hope, but all a similar theme of her life. Today’s notes, her father.

Gale watched over her shoulder as she wrote a few words and then scratched them out with the pencil. “Poems of your own making, I see.”

She chuckled. “Poems are a far cry from what these are. Nothing worth reading or trying to understand.”

“I doubt that my dear. Even the worst poetry is an attempt to express meaning and emotion. Tanil’s poem on clouds was not well received but it still conveyed the longing for freedom.” Gale, yet again conveyed the beauty in the world around him and for a moment Lissa was a little jealous of his optimism. “What is it that you are trying to write? Maybe I could be of assistance.”

She hesitated for a moment. In her life, nothing had truly been hers, her money, her body. The poetry, as questionable as it was had always belonged to her, and to share it with another, to have them edit it or offer advice felt wrong. “I’d rather only share when it’s finished if that’s okay.”

“Of course, but I am here for you. For anything you might require.”

***

Gale saw the words flow, get erased, the tapping of the pencil on her knee, but as requested he offered no advice, simply waiting until she was ready to share. The day had turned to evening and each person had retired to their tents. He’d asked if she needed company only to have been rejected and he tried to figure out what he had done wrong, why she kept pushing him away.

He retraced his steps back to their night together trying to pinpoint the moment things had changed and yet nothing would stand out. She had been willing; she had seemed to have enjoyed herself; the small moment of uncertainty was probably just one of nerves. Maybe something had happened during the night that he was unaware of, but now was not the time to ask.

He lay in his tent, his body growing heavy with sleep when he felt the touch of a hand running up his inner thigh. He opened his eyes seeing Lissa, her shirt loose, leaning over him. 

“Shh.” She whispered to him, her hand tracing the laces of his trousers.

He rested his head back down letting her hands dance, his body reacting instinctively as she touched, the pressure building as she rubbed the leather and his erection beneath. His earlier doubts were silenced as he felt himself grow against her touch. He glanced over at her, the creeping smile she held on her face, the pink flush of her cheeks, the cold look of her eyes. He gripped down, holding her wrist. “Stop, stop,” he said quietly.

She looked up at him confused. “But isn’t this what you want?”

“No, not like this.” Though he wanted to focus on her, his mind drifted back to Astarion, the same emotionless gaze he’d shown whenever they’d spoken of intimacy. “Lissa, I can see it in your eyes; something is wrong.”

Lissa pulled her hand back, looking away from him and trying to hold back the overwhelming emotions. It would have been so much easier to just bury them and lose herself in him.

“My dear, we both know this is not what you want.” He rolled a little making room next to him on the bedroll and opened his arms for her to join him. “Just come here, please.”

Gale watched as she stared at the tent entrance, almost considering if leaving would be the easier path before eventually choosing to settle into his arms, the silent tears dampening his shirt. In quiet breaths, she spoke. “It all just hurts...it hurts so much.”

He had no words to support her, no understanding of anything she was going through or had been through. He could only do the one thing he knew how to; he held her close and listened, as Tav had done with him all those moons ago.

[miss-littevi]

~ Under the open Sky ~

(Repost from Valention 2021)

As Aymeric woke up that morning, he was alone in the bedroom, not a single sign of Yorina, who arrived in Ishgard a few days before and wanted to stay a little bit longer – for him and their son Florent. It wasn’t unusual that she came to bed long after he fell asleep but normally, she was lying next to him in the morning – still sleeping and far from waking. Not today, but that had happened before too - even if it was rare. She often sleeps in her study in that case and he would look after her later. First, he went to their son’s room, where Jallia, a young Hyuran they employed as Nanny, took care of the boy. After that, he silently entered Yorina’s study and found the Duskwight sleeping with legs drawn up on the alcove bed. He took the blanket, that has fallen to the ground, and put it back over his wife’s body and left the room again.

It wasn’t that bad, that Yorina was still asleep, for it gave him the opportunity to make some arrangements before he would talk to Yorina. He decided to make a small trip with her. The Valentiones-festivities just had started and that seemed to be a good occasion to take a few days off. Florent was in good hands, Aymerics duties in the cities administration and military could be handled by his representatives and a few days off would be good for his wife’s well-being – he was sure of that.

As he returned home at noon, he got to know Yorina was awake and in her study again. Es went to that room, knocked at the door and waited a few moments. “Come in.”, came Yorina’s voice with a cold shiver from the other site of the door. He opened the door, entered, and saw his wife sitting at her desk, the baby on the arm, a quill in in her free right hand. She looked up at him in surprise and put the quill in the inkpot as he stepped next to her. He smiled, held his open hand towards her and said with warm voice: “Come, we are going on a little trip.” She looked up at him and could have asked a thousand questions, but her thought could only form one of them, the simplest one, and she asked: “What?”

(more under the cut)

Her husband was nearly amused as he repeated himself: “We are going on a little Trip. The Valentions-festivities just started and that seems like a good occasion to ‘kidnap’ you for a few days.” She rocked the baby in her arm, looked up to Aymeric and asked with dry voice: “To Gridania, then?” Aymeric nodded and Yorina continued: “I don’t want to go to Gridania… you have obligations to do there or why to Gridania of all places?” He shook his head: “No, no obligations. I just expected, you’d like to visit your old home – and a trip to the festivities looked like a good idea.” She suddenly giggled: “But you are aware, that I am from one of those caverns in the Black Shroud, right?” Aymeric laughed with his warm, dark voice, muffled by his hand to not wake up the child: “But you have that nice little Summer house in Gridania.” Yorina pressed her lips together. “I don’t want to go to Gridania and not to the Black Shroud.”, she confessed and looked at him with a sad face, “I don’t want to go anywhere, where I could meet anyone. I just would been recognized and moved into the middle of attention again. I’d rather stay here, where I have some moments of peace.” He crossed his arms and leaned against her desk. “Okay, chance of plan.”, he spoke after a few moments, “I can not promise, there will be nobody, but we wouldn’t meet other people.” She looked at him with a questioning look, didn’t say anything.” He explained laughing: “What about the Churning Mists? Just you and me, some Moogles and Dragons.” “And the knight, who are stationed at the construction works at the Zenith”, she pointed out. “We don’t have to go there.”, he determined, “So it is decided?” She sighted: “But this threat. I have so much to look up, so much preparation to do. Before anything changes, I have to” “This threat won't change for better or for worse the next few days. You know that better than I do.”, he interrupted her. Yorina looked down to her peacefully sleeping son: “And Florent” “Is taken care of.”, Aymeric interrupted her again and smiled open and warm. She gazed at him but couldn’t be angry for long. He once again held his hand to her: “Florent is well taken care of and it are just a few days anyways – only two, maybe three. The time will do you good, trust me. And when we are back, I’ll leave you alone for as long as you want. Promise.” “I hope the world will leave me alone then too.”, she said, smiling tiredly, took his hand and stood up, “I’d love to travel with you. Let’s pack a few things and then leave.”

The Mana-Cutters brought them into the Chrning Mists fast and so they did waste much time on the way. And as they arrived in the Churning Mists, Yorina decided where they would go, flew around, visited the highest places she could find and spared all the places, where she expected to meet people or Moogles alike. When they stood on one of the higher platforms of the Zenith and the wind blew round them, Aymeric looked at his wife and could feel, how the worries fell away from her, how her mood lightened up and how happy she was.

He approached her, took her hand and as she turned her head to him, he saw the joy in her amethyst-eyes, heard the cheerful laugh of her usually cold voice. And if he wasn’t sure before, he now knew it was the right decision to talk her into this trip.

Those rare Moments, when she could just be an adventurer, without all the obligations, without the heavy burden of being the Warrior of Light, those were the moments when he saw the woman he fell in love with long ago. The woman he wanted to protect from the world - the world, that was asking way too much of her. “Thank you. “, she suddenly said out of the blue. With questions in his eyes, he looked at her. “I want to thank you for talking me into this trip.”, she explained, “I had no idea how much I needed this. But now, I feel so alive, so much more than even yesterday.” Aymeric remained silent, put his arms around her and held her tight, like he couldn’t do as often as he wanted to. “Please, say something.”, she spoke, almost pleaded, “Don’t let me stand here like that. You so often find at least some words.” “I don’t ‘let you stand here like that’. But I don’t want to ruin the moment. But be sure, I am so glad, to be here – here, with you. And if I could, I’d make this moment infinite.” She smiled and spoke breathy: “Let’s just pretend, this moment is infinite.” She raised her head, her lips found his and the moment certainly wasn't infinite, but it felt like it would last forever.

[late-to-the-party-99]

The first loaves of bread showed up after I brought over that book.

I found it on a dusty shelf in Grandma Jones’ apartment. It was the week after the funeral, and we had to clear out her belongings. The faded jacket over the covers crumbled under my fingers as I slid the book out. 

Cracking it open, I realized it was a recipe book. I saw the cursive instructions for her chocolate cake, her peach cobbler, and her lemon-seed muffins. It brought me back to her kitchen, creaming butter and sugar together with a wooden spoon. “You don’t need fancy gadgets,” she said over my shoulder, wiping callused hands on her apron. “Just some elbow grease and a lot of love.”

I’d been thinking about starting up a bakery. I decided to take it as a sign, tucking the book into my coat as I called my bank. 

That first night in the new building was cold; the furnace was still on the fritz. I tried to warm it up by firing up the ovens and opening the recipe book again. I started to bake some of Grandma Jones’ pumpkin bread. 

I guess it’s not all that surprising that I fell asleep. Lulled by the warm ovens and the warm scents of cinnamon and nutmeg, I drifted off in my metal folding chair. 

It was more surprising to wake up to a bakery that wasn’t on fire. Instead, the ovens were off, the loaves out of their tins and on cooling racks. 

I didn’t know what to make of it at first. I assumed that I woke up sometime in the night and took care of it, forgetting it in a drowsy stupor. But it kept happening.

Sometimes it was pumpkin bread already sitting in the display case. Other times, it was banana bread running through a slicer on all by itself. And other times, it was zucchini bread in the oven when I unlocked the doors in the morning. 

It took me a week to figure out all this happened when I left the book open on the counter, with a light turned on overhead. 

Grandma Jones liked to keep busy. Grandma Jones didn’t have the best eyesight in low light. 

After debating calling a spirit medium, or a psychiatrist, I settled on leaving the book open. I couldn’t afford any other employees at that time. And if it was Grandma Jones, then who was I to tell her how to spend her afterlife? 

At least, that was the message I got from the floating wooden spoon smacking my arm when I tried to protest. 

She still bakes with me at the bakery. Every now and then, new cursive writing appears in the book, making tweaks or corrections to her recipes. Her floury footprints track across the black floor tiles. 

But I guess she got a little lonely, because she began to circle the other names mentioned in her book: Mary, the church lady who brought snickerdoodles. Dave, the pharmacist who whipped up brownies in the microwave. Tip, the sweet young person who lived across the street and poured over his buttercream for hours. 

I had to do a lot of digging through phone books and records, but I found them all. I pulled their recipe books free and set them next to Grandma Jones’, leaving them open to make their own decisions. 

More often than not, I saw their snickerdoodles and brownies and buttercream show up in the kitchen the next day. 

The kitchen gets a bit cluttered sometimes, with utensils and splatters of batter lying about. But it’s all worth it. It’s worth it to see people bite into a cupcake and melt on the spot, their shoulders sagging and pent-up tears flowing.

Sadness and a life well-lived, I think, taste like hints of vanilla and citrus. They’re flavors enhanced by sugar, not blotted out. You can never mix them out of your baking. You can only inhale the same smells they inhaled, giggling over a cookie with your friends as they did. You can hold hands, warm and dusty with powdered sugar.  

I can afford living employees now, but I don’t have to hire them. I have Grandma Jones and her friends. And we all get along fine. 

Text: Ghosts like to have jobs, running my bakery almost all on their own now. The loaves of bread have a strange, comforting smell to them; old books, and warm skin, a sad, sweet memory.

[erodasfishtacos]

harry adores yn with his entire being and i can tell that she loves him just as much but the poor thing is just so scared, and by what you have showed us she has a fair reason to have struggles

Through Hell and Back

warnings: cheating, mentions of domestic violence, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.

this is a very important blurb to understand dynamic and history of the characters.

PLEASE let me know your thoughts.

—

Harry’s out at a bachelor party for his friend, Jack, at a noisy bar downtown where there is a mechanical bull and half-naked waitresses.

His phone rings at two-thirty in the morning, he already knows who it is and why she’s calling him so late.

He steps outside the noisy bar, “Hi puppy, y’alright?”

Harry already knew she wasn’t.

Her voice is shaky, “Er, are you still out at the bachelor party?”

If he says yes, she’ll just try to say have fun and was just calling to check in - a lie because she felt like such an inconvenience at all times.

“No, just got home,” He lied smoothly, he could hear her trying to hide a sniffle - she must have had a bad dream.

Every since she started trauma therapy, they’d been getting worse, as she worked through her struggles with a therapist.

—

“I-I don’t want to g-go in,” YN whimpers as she sits in Harry’s passenger side outside the clinic, “I can’t talk about it.”

“Baby, you need to do this. You need to talk to someone who’s trained to help you, okay? You promised you’d try it f’me,” He hums, rubbing a thumb over her wet cheekbone.

She shakes her head stubbornly, “It’s all going to come back.”

“Yes, it will. Because you didn’t work through it, you repressed it. There is a difference, okay?” Harry’s heart feels like it’s being ripped in two as YN looks like a caged animal.

YN squeezes Harry’s hand so hard it hurts but he doesn’t mind, he can feel her fear being shared through the rough touch.

She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, “Please, H. I don’t want to remember.”

He sighs softly, “I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you really want to leave, we can.”

YN searches his eyes, sees his sadness and she knows she has to push through because she loves him so much, “Will you walk me in?”

“Of course, s’fucking proud of you. My strong girl,” Harry praises, kissing the top of her head, and shutting off the car.

He walks her in, watches her as she hesitantly goes back in with her new therapist, and sits in the waiting room for the hour and a half until she comes out.

He does that every week without miss.

Drives her, walks her in, sits in the waiting room, and then drives her home.

She doesn’t usually talk much after the sessions, her eyes swollen and puffy which is a telltale sign she cried during the appointment.

Harry holds her hand on the ride home, sometimes draws her a bath or tucks her in for a nap under his covers.

One day, after therapy, they crawled into his bed together. She hadn’t said one word since she walked out of the office but she looks tiredly at Harry.

“Why?”

Harry frowns, “Why what?”

She hides her face into the fluffy pillow, words mumbled, “Why do you want me? I’m so broken.”

“Hey,” Harry responds loudly, pulling her up and giving her a serious look, “You are not broken. Even if you were, I’d love every broken piece, okay? I want you because I’m so in love with you it doesn’t make sense.”

YN shakes her head, “I don’t deserve you. You-you have to drive me to therapy every week, leave work early, have to make it up the next day.”

And well, his heart breaks a little because she truly believes that.

Harry grips her jaw, gently, “If you need to go to therapy for the rest of your life, I’ll drive you until I’m ninety. I’ll drive you five days a week if you need it.”

He continues,“I don’t deserve you, sweet girl. Strongest, bravest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. You are my soulmate and I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“I want to nap now,” She whispers, crawling back into her shell where she’s safe from the world, from facing her fears.

Harry just stares at her, the girl he’s had a crush on since fourth grade, the girl he’d been in love with since ninth.

When she felt broken, well so did he.

—

“Mum, I want to do more for her,” Harry cries to his mother one night at dinner after school.

“I know you do, Harry. There is only so much you can do. She has parents tha-“

“Those aren’t parents, mum! You know that!” He shouts angrily, “I need to do more for her. Help her!”

Anne looks at him with a soft, understanding expression, “You’re doing all you can, Harry.”

—

He was still doing all he can.

“I wa-was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie?” YN acts casual despite the tremor but he won’t call her on it - on the phone at least.

“I’d love to pup, I’ll be over on a tick,” already walking away from the busy bar.

Harry can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

When he uses his key to open the door, she sat on her couch with all the lights in the house on, not one off.

“Oh, pet,” Harry murmurs, all the blinds were drawn shut and he knew she’d already triple checked that the windows were locked - despite the state of the art security system he had installed for her.

“Um, so are we feeling a scary movie or romcom?” She ignores his words, picking up the remote, and pulling up Netflix.

He flicks a couple of the bright lights off until it’s normal dim and he sits next to her on the couch, taking the remote and turning off the television.

“Talk t’me,” Harry coaxes, unraveling her from the heavy weighted blanket, and tugging her into his chest.

“M’fine,” YN lies on a choked whimper.

“Y’safe, you know I’d never let anythin’ happen to you . Please puppy, tell me,” He’s not to manly to beg for her to open up.

He allows her to nuzzle her face into his neck, “He cam-came back an-and he -,” her voice drops, “broke in here and I wo-woke up as he was opening my door.”

Harry holds her for a very long time that night.

-

With Harry and her therapist’s constant encouragement she’d been able to be more open and up front with Harry - which made him feel unexaplainably proud of her.

Anna almost fucked everything up, all the hard work without even realizing it.

It was nearly three in the morning this time.

Harry was stuck at Anna’s house with her and her friends for a movie night.

He’d gotten up to go to the bathroom when his phone rings.

Anna sees who it is and picks it up, “What do you want? Harry’s busy and doesn’t have time for you right now. You know it’s not all about you, right?”

Then she hangs up, all of her and her friends giggling at how she just treated YN.

Harry is unaware of the call for a few minutes when he gets back until he gets a text from YN.

I’m sorry I bothered you. I am okay. Have fun tonight x

He scrolls through his phone in confusion until he sees the call, he glares over at Anna, “Did you answer my phone?”

She has a cocky look on her face, “Yeah, I told YN that the world doesn’t revolve around her and to leave us alone.”

All the friends are giggling - but that comes to an abrupt halt when Harry stands up, knocking over the little table of drinks with his anger, “Where the fuck did you get the idea that you could touch my phone, let alone answer it?”

All of them are quiet.

He scoffs, “Now all you annoying prats are going shut up? Get the fuck out of my way,” he orders to Anna who’s pouting.

“C’mon, it was a joke. Don’t leave,” She whines, grabbing at Harry’s arm which he instantly rips out of her grip.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t fuckin’ stand you,” He tells her honestly before storming out of her house without a look back at her teary face.

-

When he arrives at YN’s house, a book is automatically been hurled at the front door when he opens it, then another.

“Hey, puppy, stop tha’. S’just me, you’re okay. S’just me,” He coos, rearming the security system to make her feel better.

She is only in one of his shirts with the company logo on it and soft cotton boy shorts, hair frizzy atop her head.

“Y’have another nightmare?” Harry asks softly, all the lights were on again, every single one.

YN clenches her jaw, “No.”

He hardens his expression too, “I was in the bathroom when she answered that call. As soon as I found out, I came over here. Don’t be sour with me.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“I know y’bloody lying because your legs are still tremblin’. Now cut the bullshit and talk t’me, we’re not going backwards,” Harry tells her seriously, with all firmness he can muster.

“I love you.”

It takes him aback. YN told him how much she adored him but it was something that didn’t come easy for her.

To hear it flat out, well….he nearly almost melted on the floor into a pile of goop.

“I love you too, puppy.”

She takes a deep breathe, “It’s been that same nightmare, but it’s not really a nightmare? It’s a flashback to…”

YN swallows before she continues, “Remember when….when I ran from my parent’s house to yours and my dad came and found me…”

Harry doesn’t want to remember but he does.

—-

“Harry, he-he just pulled up,” YN cries, peeking out his window, “I don’t want to go home.”

“Harry, he’s screaming at your mum. I have to go.”

“Harry, I have to go before he does something stupid. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Harry, don’t cry. I’ll be fine, he’s just really upset. I’ll just deal with it and it will be over before we know it, okay?”

——

“I remember,” He wavers like he normally doesn’t, feeling like a helpless sixteen year old again.

It was moments like this were no matter how hard he wanted to be angry or scream at her for making their relationship so difficult, that he couldn’t be.

How could he blame her for her commitment issues?

Why she struggles to trust?

Why she never feels good enough?

“I’m sorry to bring that up-“

“Do not apologize,” Harry interrupts, “I want to know everything you experience or feel no matter how traumatic or upsetting.”

YN despite her own struggles, when she heard Harry say things like that…well she knew full heartedly that he loves her with no conditions.

She knew this was so hard on him, “I am so in love with you, H.”

His eyes automatically soften and he reacts like he’s being praised. His face lights up without him even knowing it does.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, thank you for being my person. I appreciate everything you do for me.”

It was something she had been also working on in therapy, expressing gratitude- specifically to Harry.

And it works because Harry actually starts tearing up, eyes watering with emotion, “I love you. I’d walk through hell and back for you.”

He would and he has.

[gigagendergt]

Apocalypse, Part Seven

Read the rest

I spent the next few weeks with Jed in the cabin. Life was simple: I’d wake up, splash water on my face and brush my teeth, and head out to weed the garden or feed the chickens or, one gray morning when the rain drizzled down, chase away a stray fox getting to close to the fence. Jed taught me how to recognize plants (distinguish pines from fir trees, see the wild strawberry rooted by the path, pick the bad mushrooms from the good ones.) He taught me how to use a saw, and how to whistle with two fingers, and how to read the animal tracks on the ground. He’d do it all babbling about the demons. 

“The constructs,” he’d say, “are multiples. They’re split apart. They can’t form what we think of as coherent thought, coherent action.” 

“One saved me,” I said once.

He scoffed at the ground. “Yours doesn’t count.” 

I dreamed of it often, the white face, the wings, the pitch-black eyes, the way the hand loomed over me. I’d wake up to find myself tangled in the sheets. 

“All those people died,” I said to Jed one morning. 

He nodded. 

“Yes,” he said. “They did.” 

“Why’d the construct save me?” 

He looked at me. 

“I think,” he said, “your construct might have been the one that brought me to the Outer World.” 

I stopped to rest for a minute— I’d been lugging a wheelbarrow full of dirt up a hill. Landscaping, Jed called it. 

“What does it want with me?” I asked. 

Jed shrugged. “I spent my life studying them. They’re incomprehensible. Unless your white savior comes back for a lesson, we’ll never know a thing.”

He shouldn’t have said that: it made him angrier when it came true. 

—

I was outside, lying down in the meadow. I’d spent a long day of physical labor helping Jed with the garden. The wind tugged at my hair and face and clothes. There was a sweet smell in the air, like lilac and juniper. It made me sad. 

All the people I’d watched die, lost in the loss of my city— they’d lied down and never gotten up again.

When the shadow fell over me, I kept my eyes closed. 

It was a cloud, I thought. 

“What and whom are we mourning? How will we mourn 

in the dead of North American winter?” 

I opened my eyes and for a moment my brain failed to comprehend it. I saw the pale face, the pitch-black eyes, the wings sprouting from the temples. The face was calm. Tranquil. 

“It’s you,” I said. 

It didn’t respond, just looked at me. 

I pushed myself up on my hands, staring. It was crouched above me. I had to crane my head back to keep eye contact. I felt small, insignificant. Memories of screaming and fire burned through me. People in the water. A mother clutching her children. The man and his canoe. 

“All those people,” I said. “All of them.” 

A rage woke inside me, an inner fire. I glared at the construct. It stared back at me. When it spoke again it was in the fragmented voices: 

“We were a machine used in ancient wars.

Why were David and Goliath fighting to begin with? 

Prehistoric ice-men fought to the death- 

-fought, though, thought, rough, although-“

It shook its head. 

“No,” it said, the many voices gradually collecting into one chorus. “Coherence. Tell the tale.” 

But the voices split and began again.

“-machines used in ancient wars

or enigmas or prototypes or 

beings, your language does not contain

such a word as we are-

and the lessons were not learnt- 

-an entire army might consist of 10,000 men, who traveled in a-

lesson nine is that a mongoose might fight and kill a snake.”

It broke off again, looked at me with a hint of shame.

I rolled the words over in my mind. I was starting to understand something of the way they spoke. It wasn’t the words themselves that carried meaning, it was the implications. The constructs were a manufactured army. Ancient battles. But-

“There wasn’t a battle,” I said. “What that- thing did to my city, that was genocide.” 

The construct looked at me.

“Lesson nine is that a mongoose might fight and kill a snake,” it repeated, voices united back into their usual multi-tone.

I balled my hands into fists. “That doesn’t  mean anything! It wasn’t a mongoose and a snake! My people couldn’t fight back! They just screamed and ran and died, and drowned in the water!”

The construct lifted a hand and I flinched back, scrambling on my hands and knees. It paused, staring at me. I stopped. My heart was beating out of my chest. There were dead souls inside me screaming. 

“I won’t hurt you,” the construct said.

It waited. I waited too. 

It moved its hand a little closer, and closer. The panic edged up in my throat, and I closed my eyes and turned away. 

It extended a finger and touched me. 

“A dark beetle bleeds on a riverbank is the mongoose,” it said. “Breath in cold winter is the snake. Mongoose is small. Cute. Snake eats small things. You’ll rest, heal, choose again.” 

My eyes went wide. A sudden connection flashed through me.

“A dark beetle bleeds on the riverbank,” I said. “You named me that.”

It nodded. 

“I’m the mongoose?” 

It nodded, smiling. “The mongoose to kill the snake.” 

“And what’s breath in cold winter?” 

The construct tilted its head. “You met them. They’re fractured, fragmented. They destroy.” 

 A flash of an image sliced through my head.

The perspective snapped into focus and it had to be— fifty, sixty feet? More? The form was hunched over and it had claws instead of hands, long claws, too long, thin and spindly and unnatural. It turned and I saw the flash of what looked like eyes but patterned over its face and body, clustering in groups like boils. 

“The demon,” I gasped. 

“Breath in cold winter,” the construct murmured in agreement. “The snap that kills the flowers and the mice.” 

My mind filled with the screams of the city. 

“But why?’ I asked. 

The construct looked down at me. 

“It has no purpose,” it said. “It’s broken now.”

[wakaoujisenhime]

Hi, may I request headcanons or drabble about gom when they find that their s/o is wearing their teiko’s jersey please? Sfw or nsfw is all okay

A/N: OOH I like that idea my dear anon! I tried to come up with as many different scenarios as I could, so I hope that I was succeesful... please enjoy! (*¯︶¯*)

Tags: GoM x reader ✅  fluff ✅  implied nsfw ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Kuroko:

ok so, you were sleeping over at his house today and you wanted to put something of his on, so you looked through his closet, and amidst his many shirts you found something you immediately recognized as his former basketball team’s jersey

you were simply curious how it would look on you so while Kuroko was in the other room preparing something, you went over to the big mirror in the hallway and looked at how surprisingly fitting his jersey was

“(Y/N), I finished prepa-“

“Tetsu, perfect timing! Look what I found!” you said happily and twirled around a few times, showing off your new find

he remained silent at first and just looked at you with his typical poker face, then he slowly walked up to you and gave you a back hug, burying his face in the crack of your neck

“God (Y/N)...how can you be so cute...?“ he silently asked and peppered your neck with soft kisses

you couldn’t help but giggle at that ticklish sensation which provided a great diversion for your boyfriend, who let his hands slowly slide down your body’s most prominent traits while his blue eyes stayed glued to how smooth your reflection looked like

his reaction was pretty cryptic and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was even happy or simply annoyed, so you asked him if you’d done something bad

Kuroko remained silent at first and then out of nowhere took your hand and began walking back to his own room

“T-Tetsu? What’s wrong?”

“In situations such as these it’s better for me to just show you the results of your little dress up instead of using words, don’t you think?”

with flushed cheeks you simply squeezed his hand and followed him back into his room, knowing that you’ll be in there for quite a while...

Kise:

you two went on a small shopping trip together and before you knew it time had slipped past your hands and it was already dark outside

Kise, as the caring boyfriend he is, invited you to stay over at his apartment and you agreed

while you were sitting on his bed and checking your social media he sorted out his closet saying that if he continued buying so many clothes he’d have to buy a second and much bigger one

when he usually did this, he separated his garments into two piles: one was clothes he’d give away to charity organizations and the other one was for you and his friends to choose out of

just as he was about to throw another one of his shirts you noticed a very familiar-looking piece of fabric

He must be quite out of it to throw this away...

you secretly took his jersey out of the pile, got up from his bed, and sneaked out of his room (which wasn’t a challenge really, with him being overly concentrated on whether to give that blue jacket away or the black one)

you headed straight for his bathroom and changed into his Teiko jersey

it fitted you quite well, sure it was loose at some parts but that was to be expected

after looking at yourself in the mirror from any possible angle you decided to go back and surprise him with your getup

“Kise, I think I might’ve found the perfect one for me...what do you think?”

he glanced back at you and just as he was about to turn away he halted, mouth agape, his expression a mix of pleasant surprise and full of adoration

within a couple of seconds, his arms were wrapped around your body, lifting you by the hips and covering your entire face with kisses

“I didn’t know you loved your jersey this much.” you joked as you played with his yellow and soft strands of hair

“Who said I was this happy just because of the jersey, huh?”

he twirled the both of you a few times before lying you down on his bed and getting on top of you, both of his arms trapping you beneath him as he brought his face down to your exposed collarbone and began trailing it up with his soft lips

“Though I’d love to continue watching you have it on, it’d be quite a shame if we got it dirty with what’s about to come, right?”

Midorima:

living together with a strict man such as him proved to be quite the challenge at times, but you somehow managed

he was a very tidy and clean person (his behavior almost bordered in perfectionism) so having a multi-shelved closet where his clothes were sorted by color, their individual usage as well as his personal preference wasn’t surprising

you once wanted to take a shirt from him and after begging him for what felt like hours he finally gave in, but under the condition that he’d get to choose one for you

so to put it simply: you never properly saw how his closet looked like from the inside and now that he was taking a shower you couldn’t withstand the temptation to sneak into his room and finally take a peek

thanks to his pedantic ways you were quick to grasp the structure he’d used and there was one particular pile of clothes that caught your eye, namely one which consisted of nothing but his basketball uniforms, all of them neatly folded and judging by the smell they were freshly washed as well

you smiled to yourself as you remembered that your typical tsundere boyfriend also had some softer sides on him that brought such rare but heartwarming behaviors to light

with utmost carefulness you took the very first jersey from the pile and held it up, revealing the dark blue number 11

looking at it now you wondered if it’d still fit him and just before you stormed out of the room to ask him, you thought of a better idea: putting it on yourself

with that said and done you sneaked back out, sat on the couch in the living room, covered yourself with a blanket, and pretended to play something on your phone while you carefully watched your boyfriend from the corner of your eyes

the moment he entered your shared bedroom you decided to wait a couple minutes until he’d dressed up so that you could surprise him with a hug (but the main reason was that you were scared of how he’d react if you not only snuck up on him while he’s still drenched and naked but also had a jersey on that he’d spend so much time taking care of)

you softly knocked on the door and heard a muffled sound that most likely prompted you to come in, so you did

luckily his broad back was facing you as he was busy cleaning his glasses and you used that opportunity to wrap your arms around his tall figure

there was no reaction at first but after just a couple of seconds he silently asked you whether something was wrong

“I have a small surprise for you, so could you do me the favor and...look at me?” you whispered in a rather sheepish voice

Midorima didn’t answer, but you heard him placing his glasses down on the nightstand so you took that as a signal and loosened your grip around him

“(Y/N)...! That–“

your small surprise had shocked him quite a bit and even if he didn’t say anything clear about it, it was pretty obvious that underneath his big palm, which was covering his mouth, a small blush was forming

the two of you just stood there silently and after what felt like an eternity he just sighed and sat himself down on the bed, burying his face in his hands

Now that’s a reaction I didn’t expect...

you were disappointed and sad of course so you muttered a silent apology and made your way back to the door

“(Y/N)...who said that you could leave?”

with a surprised but confused expression on your face, you looked at his sitting figure

Midorima leaned himself back and gently pat a spot on his muscled thigh

“I want you to strip for me...but make sure to keep my jersey on and when you’re finished, get your cute ass over here.”

Aomine:

you woke up rather unpleasantly

your entire body was sore, some spots hurting more than others, and to top it all off you had fallen asleep naked, too tired from last night’s fun to even cover yourself with a shirt or something of that sort

while you were questioning yesterday’s events your boyfriend continued sleeping peacefully next to you and sometimes a silent snore escaped past his lips

watching someone who was either sulking or grinning like a madman on a daily basis sleep like a small child warmed your heart

you gently caressed his cheek, moved some of his hair strands away from his forehead, and let your fingertip gently glide across his most prominent facial features

if Aomine was awake he’d rarely let you do all of these blandishments, but luckily he slept as deep as a bear during hibernation

you could’ve continued forever, but your body was starting to get cold so you got up as carefully as you could and tiptoed over to your boyfriend's closet and began rummaging around for one of his shirts, which easily covered half of your body

while you searched every possible corner of his rather messy closet you stumbled upon something rather surprising

at the very back, you found his Teiko jersey which in comparison to the rest neatly folded and smelled of detergent

you couldn’t hold back a cheeky grin as you remembered how he’d told you he wasn’t the sentimental type of person and that there would be no reason for him to own any keepsakes from his junior high days and yet despite all that he’d taken such good care of it

just as you were about to put it back in, a brilliant idea crossed your mind

you put his jersey on and walked towards his sleeping figure, moved the blanket aside, and then got on top of him, carefully lying on top of his upper body

the sudden weight on his chest disrupted his peaceful sleep and in accordance with that a low groan resonated from him

“Mm babe....what’s wrong..?”

“Good morning Aomine my love...care to open your eyes for me, I got a small surprise prepared for you.”

he grunted as he wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you further towards him, and whispered: “Just give me five more minutes and I’ll look....promise”

you pouted but refused to give up nonetheless and continued with your caresses from earlier, though this time you also planted soft kisses along his collarbone and his neck

he enjoyed it at first and even hummed in satisfaction, but as your lips trailed down lower, his abdomen tensed up, and even if he wanted to keep his eyes closed his curiosity failed him rather quick

just as you were about to continue you felt his hands take a tight hold of your hips so you looked up to him and were met with a pair of wide deep ocean blue eyes

a mischievous grin spread across your lips as you showed him your little surprise

“Look what I found, mister I’m-not-a-sentimental-type-of-person.”

and he did look, Aomine was in fact so flabbergasted that his mouth stood agape for quite a while, but no sound whatsoever came from him

“Hey, what’s wrong? I thought you’d like a surprise of this caliber? Don’t all of your pinup girls have that boyfriend shirt segment?”

just as you were about to get off of him he suddenly took a hold of your shoulders and within a matter of seconds flipped the position the two of you were in

you now found yourself under him, exposed to his cheeky grin and a rather lewd gaze that caused him to lick his lips with relish while he let his hands run down your entire body

“You just know how to rail me up don’t you babe?” he cooed as he slowly pushed his knee between your legs, “sleep’s overrated when I have someone as perfect as you waking me up like this, right?”

Aomine kissed your lips and smiled down at you “Now...be a good girl and let me thank you properly”

Murasakibara:

wearing something out of this purple-haired giant’s closet was never an option for you, the main reason being the obvious body build difference between the two of you and the second was because of Murasakibara himself

every time you went over to his apartment and wanted to stay overnight he’d cling to you saying how warm and fluffy you were and continuously refused to let you go

the first few times you had tried to wiggle out of his grasp but unfortunately, he was the stronger out of the two of you so with no other choice left you remained enveloped in his arms until sleep caught up to you

as time went on you steadily gave up the fight and simply let him do what he wanted

and then one faithful night Lady Luck seemed to be on your side since Murasakibara fell asleep before you, the poor soul must’ve been quite tired that even his usual iron grip around you loosened quite a bit

at first, you couldn’t help but smile at his vulnerable yet cute expression but after just a short while your mind truly grasped the possibilities that had opened up to you

with a small smile, you carefully got up and walked over to his room

you silently closed the door behind you and couldn’t help but chuckle at the slightly ridiculous situation you found yourself in, regardless you continued with your task and opened his closet for the first time ever

it was surprisingly empty and clean (with some minor exceptions, but that was to be expected) so you found yourself questioning just why your boyfriend was trying to hide his small collection of clothes from you so desperately

at first, you simply looked through his differently sized shirts, and just then you saw a bright blue one and wondered why you had never seen him wear it

after pulling it out you finally realized just what you were holding

His Teiko jersey...?

you were quite surprised, to say the least since Murasakibara good to never talked about his junior high days let alone even mention them

he had a mirror right next to his closet so you stood in front of it and placed the jersey in front of yourself

it was quite large for your own measurements, but luckily his former build hadn’t been as muscular and tall as that of right now, so you seriously contemplated on putting it on

you removed the shirt you were wearing and replaced it with his jersey

the fabric reached the middle of your thighs and its v-neck was so low that you could see some of your cleavage

your cheeks reddened at the sight, your embarrassment prompting you to remove it as fast as possible, and just as you were about to do it a low and drowsy voice called out to you

“(Y/N)-chin...? What are you doing?”

as you turned around to the source of the voice, you looked directly into the purple eyes of your giant boyfriend who was towering in front of his bedroom’s doorframe

“A-Atsushi! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I just wanted to-“ you stuttered as you tried to remove his shirt, but before you could even lift it his big hand took a grasp of your own and held it

“Don’t.”

that was all he said before pulling you into his broad chest and embracing you

he began kissing your neck and even after you reluctantly asked him what was wrong and if he’d been mad all he did was remain silent

after a while you felt his big and slightly rough hands wander underneath the jersey, exploring your naked skin and touching it carefully, afraid that you’d break if he got a little rougher

it felt good and you felt safe in his arms, but you didn’t mind if he didn’t hold back entirely

when you told him these exact words he immediately picked you up and wrapped your legs around his hips

“Atsushi, w-wait!”

“Sorry (Y/N)-chin, but you look way too sweet right now and you know me...whenever I see something yummy I just need to have a taste.”

and with that, you were carried back to the couch for a long and pretty busy night...

Akashi:

the first time you mentioned Teiko he actually smiled and offered to show you some of his keepsakes himself

you agreed of course and just some moments afterward he brought a medium-sized box to you and began showcasing all objects he kept from his junior high days

Akashi really had his way with words, he knew that disclosing as little as he could about everything would make you more curious than you already were...and he was absolutely right

you asked him about the photos with his teammates, about some of his gold medals, about some of the books he’d kept, and so on

in the end, he pulled out his jersey, looking at it with a nostalgic expression, and as soon as he’d noticed your wide eyes and seemingly interested demeanor a smile spread across his lips as he handed the piece of fabric to you

while he told you some funny stories about it you couldn’t help but wonder whether it still fitted him or not

“Would you like me to put it on for you?” he asked you, which made you realize that you’d accidentally spoken out loud

“N-No it’s fine, I was just...thinking aloud that’s all!”

he giggled and gently caressed your blushing cheek, leaning closer to it so that he could plant a soft kiss on it, but unfortunately for you, the two of you were interrupted by one of his butlers who apparently needed something from his red-haired young master

neither you nor he could hide the obvious disappointment from your expressions, but with no choice left but to step out for a bit, your boyfriend left the room

you sat there at first but when you looked at the jersey that was halfway in the box you got curious about whether it could fit you, so after making sure that the coast was clear you changed your top and looked at your reflection on the glassy door of one of his shelves

surprisingly it fit you almost to a T and it was just now that you realized just how different the two of you were built

this new realization is what took you so long to notice that the man you were thinking about had returned and was looking at you

“And here I thought you wanted me to put it on...”

hearing his voice made you immediately freeze up, as you felt the heat rise to your face you slowly turned around and saw his gentle yet mischievous smile

“I-It’s not what it looks like, I just...I just wanted to–” you stammered while your fingers entangled themselves in the hem of his jersey

Akashi began to close the distance between the two of you and with each step he took your embarrassment grew and grew until it reached the point where you just wanted to sink in a hole somewhere

meanwhile, your boyfriend had reached you and let his hands gently glide along your torso with a never-ending smile

he directed his eyes to the reflection of your back, pulling you into his chest, and was now doing the same he did beforehand

his gentle touch relieved some tension from your shoulders and you couldn’t help but whisper his name, an action that made him tense up now

“(Y/N), I need you to remain quiet for a bit, or else I might lose that last bit of control I have” he hissed out as you felt his grip on you getting stronger

“I-It’s ok Sei, just let me remove your jersey and we can go to your roo–”

your chin was suddenly jerked upwards, red eyes peering directly into your own as he answered in a low voice: “Who said that we’ll do any of it? I’ve already locked the door and removing the jersey would ruin most of the fun, don’t you think?”

[glimmerglanger]

One more Make Your Bed prompt for the road, because I have no shame: I'd love Cody's perspective on their first time. :D?

:DDDDDDDDD GUESS WHICH PROMPT I TOOK FIRST. I couldn’t resist, I suppose.

ANYWAY, this is obviously post-“Make Your Bed.” It’s a spicy time! Not safe for wizards fic about a couple figuring out how they might fit together. Mentions of canon events and trauma, but not very much. Codywan, first time, sweet and slow.

~~~~~~~~

Cody caught on to kissing quickly. They didn’t do much beyond that, not at first. They were both recovering from exhaustion and injuries. Grief. For the first few days, Cody’s body didn’t even really...respond in the way he expected. 

He got no more than half-hard, despite the way his heart picked up and raced with the brush of Obi-Wan’s mouth against his. Apparently, there was only so far he could push his body. He’d reached a limit, somewhere along the way.

They healed, planned, and slept and at some point, he must have...recovered.

He woke up sprawled across Obi-Wan one morning, and it was such a relief, still, to wake up to the immediate reminder that Obi-Wan was alive, with him, and safe. Cody drew in a breath, shifting, and realized that he’d...woken up in a very familiar predicament.

His cock pressed against Obi-Wan’s hip, warm through the fabric of his sleeping clothes. He’d woken up in such a way...more times than he liked to think about. Usually, he rolled out of the bunk and went to handle it in the fresher.

But that had been before they discussed things. Before they kissed.

Cody felt hyper-aware, all at once, of the sprawl of his body against Obi-Wan’s. He recalled, with stunning clarity, the feeling of kissing him. He swallowed, loudly, and Obi-Wan rasped, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Cody murmured back, fleetingly grateful that Obi-Wan had said nothing about being, well. Up. He held himself very still. His hips wanted to roll, instinctively, but he’d long ago learned how to control that impulse.

They’d kissed. And now they were lying in bed together, both of them...hard, and he wanted.

He shifted. His mouth was very close to Obi-Wan’s throat, and he’d learned - already - that Obi-Wan liked to be kissed there. He slid closer, heart beating fast, and brushed his lips to soft skin, Obi-Wan making a low, welcoming sound.

Cody’s breath stuttered out at the response. Something ached in his gut, fast and hot. Obi-Wan slid a hand up his arm, tilting his head to one side on the pillow, and Cody forgot about why he wasn’t rolling his hips, shifting in a slow grind that sent a flare of pleasure up his spine and made him groan.

He realized, waking up faster by the moment, that he could slide his hand up Obi-Wan’s stomach, under the hem of his shirt, dragging the fabric up. Obi-Wan gasped, twitching under him, pressing into his hand, and--

That was, of course, when Bones commed them to let them know that Amidala was finally waking up.

Cody swore and sat up, half-ready to throttle Bones. Obi-Wan pushed up on an elbow, and Cody glanced at him. He looked… soft. Rumpled. Sad, still, but Cody could hardly fault him for that. Cody’s gaze slid further, quite without his permission, and he shivered at the stretch of fabric across Obi-Wan’s--

Hips.

Cody blinked hurriedly, looking away again, and rasped, “Kriff.”

“Almost, but not quite,” Obi-Wan chirped back at him, with a fast little smile, before rolling out of the bed. And Cody stared at the far wall after Obi-Wan disappeared in the fresher, aching.

#

Cody felt distracted throughout the day. He was sure that it had been easier to set aside the flares of want in his gut, before. Then again, things between them had...shifted. Just a little. He found himself thinking about that shift, again, after they returned to their quarters in the evening.

He set out the food he’d grabbed from the mess, and Obi-Wan brought over two cups full of tea. They ate, discussed their next move - they’d almost finished the de-chipping enough to consider going to Kamino - and through all of it, Cody’s gut felt tight.

He cut Obi-Wan a sideways look as they straightened away the remains of their meal. They’d lived together for so long, fallen long ago into ritual and pattern. Obi-Wan would, likely, go meditate after the meal. Cody would clean his blaster, review reports. 

He had no idea how to...adjust that schedule, to fit in the other things he wanted.

Cody blew out a breath, watching Obi-Wan rinse out their cups in the kitchenette, the throb of want in his gut getting stronger. He flexed his hands out, and, when Obi-Wan turned, washing up finished, Cody put a hand on his shoulder and rocked up against him, brushing a kiss to his mouth.

Obi-Wan made a sweet sound, hand settling at Cody’s hip, tugging him a little closer, so apparently he wasn’t terribly put out by having his meditation delayed. Cody slid fingers back into Obi-Wan’s hair, neck protesting the angle for a tinging moment, before Obi-Wan let himself slouch, leaning a hip against the counter, diminishing the difference in their height.

Cody groaned, because the shift in positions left them pressed together, and he couldn’t stop the roll of his hips. It felt good, and--

And Obi-Wan drew back from the kiss, nuzzling back towards Cody’s ear, and murmured, “I could give you a hand with that, if you like.” 

The words made Cody’s hips shift again, and his voice sounded strange when he said, “Yes. I’d like--yes.”

He felt the curve of Obi-Wan’s mouth into a smile against his jaw. “Alright,” Obi-Wan said, and nudged him, coaxing him across the room and to their little bunk. Cody had vague ideas about how - this kind of thing was supposed to go, gathered here and there over the years, but they’d all of them fled his head as he eased down onto the mattress, Obi-Wan joining him a moment later.

He pulled Obi-Wan back into a kiss, pressing against him. It was second nature to press close to him in their bed, after all. Obi-Wan murmured against his mouth, a moment later, “It’s often nicer, without fabric in the way.”

Cody tried and failed to bite back the sound in his throat. He shifted, twisting up enough to pull his shirt off and toss it somewhere far away. He reached for the waistband of his pants and froze as Obi-Wan pushed off his undertunic, and--

Obi-Wan was still too thin. The remains of the damage to his shoulder and back hadn’t completely disappeared, the black and purple color a reminder of what Cody had ordered done to him, and--

“Cody?” Obi-Wan asked, quietly, tunic halfway down his arms, something tense in his voice. “Ah,” he said, a beat later, and started to tug the fabric up again.

“Don’t,” Cody blurted, reaching out to catch his hands, to arrest the movement. “I just.” He shook himself and, still squeezing Obi-Wan’s hands, leaned down into him, pressing a kiss to the edge of the purple mark, hearing Obi-Wan suck in a sharp breath at the touch.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, faintly, as Cody brushed kisses around the edges of the mark. He sank back against the mattress, and Cody followed along, releasing his hands to tug at the tunic, easing fabric out of the way. Obi-Wan ran hands over his skin, in return, touching here and there, everywhere.

Cody half-expected a comm to go off, as Obi-Wan tugged him up to kiss him again, but they stayed blessedly silent.

They stayed silent even as Obi-Wan nudged him over onto his side and slid a hand down his stomach, pausing at the edge of his pants to raise an eyebrow, to say, gently, “We don’t have to.”

Cody jerked out a nod. They’d had...an awkward conversation a few days past, during which Obi-Wan had felt the need to make it very clear that he was not simply expecting sex and would happily go without indefinitely, if Cody had no interest in it. Some people didn’t, he’d said.

Cody felt like he might perish if they didn’t proceed past the current moment. He lost patience and reached down, undoing the latches on his pants himself, and Obi-Wan grinned at him, leaning in to kiss him again, sliding his hand past the waistband and--

Cody had taken himself in hand too many times to count. He’d suspected, vaguely, that it would feel much the same to have someone else touch him. He groaned in pleasure and shock at the first brush of Obi-Wan’s fingers along his aching cock.

Obi-Wan’s fingers were long and slightly cool, callused here and there from years of lightsaber use. But he was so gentle. He stroked carefully, so different from the often perfunctory way Cody touched himself, just trying to bring himself off so he could get back to the rest of the day.

Cody groaned when Obi-Wan finally curled his hand. He pushed his hips up into the circle of Obi-Wan’s fingers, holding onto Obi-Wan’s forearm with one hand, some part of his brain desperate to make sure that Obi-Wan didn’t stop or go anywhere.

Obi-Wan pressed kisses to his jaw and throat as he moved his hand, not going fast as all. He shifted, and Cody gripped at his shoulder, well-aware that he’d...stalled out, almost, that he was just lying there and getting touched and perhaps he should--

“Hm,” Obi-Wan murmured, kissing his chest and shifting again. “I’m going to try something. I suspect you’ll rather like it.”

“What--” Cody started and stopped as Obi-Wan slid down his body, still moving his hand, shoulders bowing over and--

Cody made a strange, ragged sound, all the thoughts running out of his head at once. Obi-Wan had--curled over and licked him, hot and wet, lips just sliding over the tip of Cody’s cock and--

Obi-Wan made a sound that was almost a cough, strange and muffled, because he didn’t lift his mouth away when Cody’s body bowed up and he came, just like that, the touch so surprising and good. He’d had no defenses against it. 

It felt--amazing. Cody slumped fully back against the mattress, breathing hard, pleasure radiating up through his gut and leaving him dazed. It was, he thought, not really comparable to what he’d been doing to himself in the fresher for years.

Obi-Wan leaned up, after only a moment, dragging his thumb across his wet bottom lip, a smile crooking up the corners of his mouth. There was no sign of a mess, and Cody groaned again, because - because he was used to the sonic blasting away any evidence, but Obi-Wan had swallowed it, it was inside of him, and--

“I’ll take that as a ringing endorsement of--” Obi-Wan started, and Cody grabbed him, pulling him down to kiss his mouth and shoving him, at the same moment, getting him sprawled on the bed. “Oh,” Obi-Wan said, a moment later, and then, voice getting breathier as Cody focused, “Oh.”

And, after, they curled together just as they’d always done at night, except without any clothes in the way. Skin pressed to skin, Obi-Wan’s back cradled against his chest. Cody let out a shuddery breath, tracing his fingers down the line of Obi-Wan’s side and back up again.

He...hadn’t known what to expect from sex. He’d heard plenty of his brothers talk about it and he’d seen some pornography. But-- he’d been unsure if it would--change things, or…

He slid his hand down Obi-Wan’s side again, around to his stomach, moving his palm up until it rested over Obi-Wan’s heart, beating steady and strong. He blinked his suddenly stinging eyes, burying his face against the back of Obi-Wan’s shoulder, realizing that it hadn’t, really, changed much of anything.

It hadn’t changed how he felt, or - or rewritten the stars. It was just...another little piece of their lives together, slotting into a new shape, a piece of pleasure they could share together and--

“Rest,” Obi-Wan said, softly, covering Cody’s hand with his own, warm and soft and safe in their bed, where he belonged.

[lostinthewiind]

Do you think we could get a part 2 to that daichi fic you wrote earlier? I’d love to see how the team reacted 😅

Ummmmmm . . . YES! That fic was so fun to write, you can absolutely get a part 2. Coming right up!

Read part 1 here → Thick Thighs Save Lives

Read part 3 here →Thick Thighs Save Lives Part 3

Thick Thighs Save Lives Part 2

Rating: PG

Warnings: none - just fluff

“Ahem.”

Woken by the sudden clearing of someone’s throat, you inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of Daichi’s body wash and clothing detergent overwhelming your senses and bringing a slight smile to your face. As comforting as the scent had been to fall asleep to, it was even more comforting to wake up to.

Eyes still shut, you were so focused on how comfortable you were with Daichi’s thigh between your own and his warm body pressed against yours, that you had completely forgotten what had woken you in the first place. Snuggling further into him, you grabbed a fistful of the hem of his shirt and attempted to drift back to sleep for a little while. 

“AHEM!”

This time, whoever was clearing their throat made it clear that they were trying to wake you. That’s when it hit you—you and Daichi had fallen asleep tangled together among the entire volleyball team, and now, everyone was awake except for the two of you. 

You felt your heart start to pound harshly against your chest. You debated whether you should continue to pretend to be asleep or open your eyes and face the music, but before you had to make a decision one way or the other, the large figure wrapped around your own began to stir.

“What is wrong with you?” You heard Daichi ask, surprisingly unbothered by his teammates and the managers catching the two of you in this position. “It’s still early. Can’t you see she’s still sleeping? Why are you being so loud?”

There was a moment of silence before anyone answered. “S-sorry, Captain.” Tanaka’s voice finally responded. “We were just . . . why didn’t you tell us the two of you were together?”

“Yeah,” you heard Suga and Asahi agree. 

“Because we’re not,” Daichi told them, surely earning at least a couple of confused looks because he quickly followed it up with, “Let’s not discuss this now, okay? Why don’t you guys start making breakfast? You help yourselves to the food in my kitchen often enough to know where everything is.”

A few seconds later, you heard the sound of a series of shuffling feet heading out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving just you and Daichi among the discarded pillows and blankets. You could hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen, no doubt discussing what they had just witnessed, but since you couldn’t make out what they were saying, you were able to calm down a little.

“Don’t worry about them,” Daichi whispered to you, knowing you were awake and that you had heard everything. “I should apologize. I meant to wake up before them and shift into a less awkward position.”

You smiled softly and shook your head, dismissing his concern. “Don't apologize. You were just being nice. I appreciate it.”

Slowly, and with what you thought you recognized as a small tinge of sadness in his eyes, Daichi pulled his thigh out from between yours and released you from the gentle embrace he had captured you in sometime during the night. “Get some more sleep,” he told you, quickly taking the pillow he had been using for his head and placing it between your legs where his own leg had been seconds before. “I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”

“Okay,” you exhaled softly, pulling the blanket over your shoulders fully and relaxing the best you could. When Daichi left to join the others in the kitchen, however, you found yourself wondering about what this meant for you and the sweet volleyball captain. Did he like you as more than just a friend or was he really just trying to be nice and help you out in a time of need?

You would be lying if you said that sleeping next to him hadn’t been the best sleep you had had in ages, but then again, that wasn’t exactly an incredible feat considering the stress of upcoming exams had been affecting your quality of sleep in the past few weeks.

Choosing to push this problem to the back of your mind and deal with it at a later time, you focused on clearing your mind and before you knew it, had taken full advantage of the rare opportunity to sleep in and drifted off again.

You weren’t sure how long you had continued to rest, but when you woke for a second time that morning, the faint smell of food was present in the home and there was a distant sound of running water and what sounded like pots clanging off of one another. 

Letting out a yawn and stretching out your limbs, you rose to your feet and made your way into the kitchen, surprised to see a single person standing by the sink instead of a whole volleyball team.

“Did everyone leave already?” you questioned.

Startled a little by your sudden presence, Daichi spun around from where he was doing the dishes. “You slept for another three hours,” he told you with a grin, “Plenty of time for me to feed everyone and send them on their way.”

“All the while dodging questions about us, I’m sure.” You climbed into one of the stools at the kitchen counter. “They are never going to leave us alone about that.”

“Probably not,” Daichi agreed with a chuckle as he grabbed a bowl of rice and eggs from the other side of the counter and slid it toward you. “I’m sure you’re hungry. I was going to wake you like I said I would, but I figured you could use the extra sleep—and I’m sure you’re happy to have avoided the third-degree from everyone. It might be a little cold by now though, so sorry about that.”

Taking the food gratefully, you smiled. “You keep apologizing for being considerate,” you commented. “Do you always do that or am I just special?”

“I-I don’t know how to answer that,” he replied truthfully. 

You nodded before changing the subject, not wanting him to feel pressured into answering something he might not be comfortable with. “Well, either way, I’m grateful for the extra hours. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Because of your legs?”

You shrugged. “Sort of . . . upcoming exams has me pretty stressed, so that’s not helping, and then stress tends to make my legs ache even more. It’s weird . . . I wish I knew how to make it stop.”

Daichi nodded understandingly. “Well, you said a pillow usually helps.”

Shovelling some of the luke-warm food into your mouth, you chewed and swallowed before letting out a small scoff. “Well, apparently, an extra pillow isn’t always available,” you pointed out with an amused giggle. 

You waited for Daichi to say something in response, but when he didn’t and instead returned to doing the dishes, you focused on eating the food in front of yourself. The two of you existed in silence in the kitchen for five more minutes, just enough time for him to finish cleaning and you to finish eating.

After rinsing the last pan, Daichi reached for your empty bowl and washed it quickly before setting it aside. Then, with a heavy sigh and arms crossed against his chest, he turned to look at you. “Was it weird that I did that?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Did what?”

“Put my . . . my thigh between your legs,” he clarified. “Was that weird?”

You thought for a moment, utterly unsure how to answer that. You didn’t think it was weird, personally, but you weren’t sure if that was the correct response or not. “Do you think it was weird?” you asked in return, more curious about how he felt about it.

“No . . . well, not at the time, no. But now I’m not so sure. The others made some good points during breakfast—maybe it isn’t okay to be so close if we aren’t, you know . . . together.”

“If that’s how you feel about it, it can just be a one-time thing,” you assured him, hoping he felt like his feelings on the matter were valid. “A friend helping out a friend—it doesn’t need to be anything more than that.”

“Yeah,” he agreed before his eyes grew wide and his eyebrows furrowed together. “Wait, did you want it to be more than a one-time thing?”

“What? I didn’t say that.”

“The way you worded that just now made it sound like it can be a one-time thing if I want it to be,” he said. “Do you want it to be a one-time thing?”

You let out a groan. “This is confusing.” You folded your arms across the countertop and rested your head on them. “I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be, which is odd because of how confidently you played it all off up until this point. If I’m being honest, I haven’t slept that well in a very long time and I found your presence very comforting. That’s where I stand on the issue. The ball is now in your court.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I liked it too . . . not in a weird way or anything,” he sighed, physically flustered and slowly turning red. “I’m sorry, I’m complicating things with my words.”

You smirked at him. “Then don’t use your words.”

At first, Daichi seemed even more puzzled, but then a wave of realization washed over him and suddenly, the cool and confident captain from the night before had returned.

Walking around to the other side of the counter, he approached you slowly before placing his hands on either side of your face and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead. He then scooped you into his arms, earning a surprised shriek from you.

“What are you doing?” you questioned as he started carrying you out of the kitchen and down the hall. “What about your parents?”

“They’re away for the whole weekend,” was all he said before entering his room and placing you down on the bed. 

Initially, you were nervous about where this was heading, but as soon as you caught a glimpse of Daichi’s warm, brown eyes and watched as he flashed you a comforting smile, you remembered that he always had nothing but the best intentions. 

“I find your presence comforting too,” he explained as he crawled into the bed beside you. “Lie with me. Just . . . be with me.”

You couldn’t help but smile uncontrollably. “Okay,” you nodded and extended your arms out, making plenty of room for him between them. Just like the night before, he held you close and rested his chin on top of your head.

And just like the night before, he carefully slit his thigh between your legs. Then, he let out a sigh and you could feel his entire body relax.

“Daichi,” you chuckled lowly. “My legs don’t hurt right now.”

“I’m not doing this for you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He left it at that, and before long, his breathing slowed and fell into a calming rhythm. 

Despite the fact that you had just slept approximately 10 hours, you soon found your eyelids feeling heavy and the comfort of the bed and warmth of Daichi’s embrace lulling you back into a deep rest. 

“Daichi?” 

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“What does this mean?”

Instead of words, he first answered with his actions, just like you had told him to. Snaking one arm over your waist, he slipped a large hand under your shirt and place his palm flush against the middle of your back, fingers spread wide. He then used said hand to pull you even closer to his chest. 

You drew in a shaky breath, the feeling of his broad hand on your small back bringing you an unexplainable sense of safety and relaxation. 

“I don’t know,” he finally answered, “but we’ll figure it out later.”

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - Chapter Six

this is finally going somewhere! i had to cut this chapter in two otherwise it would have been six thousand words so… sorry for the cut😬

Warning for sucidal thoughts in this chapter.

chapter five // chapter seven

“She did not!” Aelin laughed loudly, still in her nightclothes. “Why do we always miss that?”

“Miss what?” Sam asked as he entered the room, two bowls of cereals in his hands. He gave one to Lysandra and brought two spoons so Aelin could eat in his bowl. Lysandra and Aelin just woke up, it was four in the afternoon and Aelin didn’t eat anything since last night, so she was starving.

Aelin, Lysandra, Nehemia, and Sam might have partied a little too hard last night. So this morning, Aelin and Lysandra decided to stay home. Sam didn’t look happy about Aelin missing class but he didn’t say anything, knowing Aelin’s mind was made. He came back from school an hour ago and woke them up.“Gods, I love these cereals,” she moaned at the taste. Aelin loved food, and it showed on her body. The only good thing about her injury is that now she didn’t have to pay attention to everything she ate to fit in stupid costumes. She might miss dancing but she loved food more.

“I finished the last box, by the way.”

Aelin nodded, making a mental note she’ll have to ask Quinn to go grocery shopping as soon as she could.

“Leave me some, Lys,” Nehemia said as she threw herself on Aelin’s bed. She was glad to have a gigantic bed when the four of them were home, which is almost all the time lately. Nehemia threw her hair behind her shoulder, silently asking her friends to pay attention to them.

“That color suits you, Mia,” Aelin smiled and it was genuine. Nehemia had fresh new braids, they started black but ended in a deep ocean blue. The girl never wanted boring colors in her hair and almost everything suited her. Lysandra and Sam agreed with her, making Nehemia smile arrogantly. But Aelin knew that Nehemia was hiding a real smile behind that.

“Might dye my hair blue to match you,” Aelin said and Nehemia looked thrilled.

“Don’t you dare!” Sam said, turning to Aelin and almost spilling the cereals and milk on her bed. “Your hair is so pretty. Buy a wig but don’t you dare dye it.”

“Excuse me?”

He pouted, “Please?” Even with this ridiculous face, he stayed beautiful. She loved the twinkle of mischief, the hint of exasperation at her, and the kindness that made her feel good, the kindness that made her want to be the best person she could be.

“Okay,” She sighed and he had a victorious smile drawn on his face. “Let’s go for the wig.”

He smiled and kissed her, pout-ring all his love for her in it. She could spend years kissing him. “You two are gross,” Lysandra complained, Sam and Aelin pulled apart and Aelin sent her best friend a vulgar gesture.

“Anyway, Lys, what did we miss?” Sam asked again, this boy was the most curious of the four. He liked to hear gossip about everyone.

“Ansel was high at Nox’s party two days ago.” Aelin was sad they missed a party just to be at a Gala, but her parents were home for once and demanded that she was with them.

“You’re joking?” Nehemia asked and laughed as she took Lysandra’s spoon to eat some cereals. The brunette threw the dark-skinned girl a look that promised violence.

“You’ll never see me taking drugs, that’s for sure,” Aelin sighed and rested her head on Sam’s shoulder. “God, I already regret drinking twice in a week.”

“Good,” Sam said and she rolled her eyes.

The four friends spent hours talking and laughing together. They practically all lived at her home, anyway. Sam and Lysandra’s families were fucked up enough, so they spent their time here. Nehemia’s parents worked too much to notice that she didn’t come home most nights. Aelin’s parents were never here either, so she welcomed the company.

When it started getting dark outside, Aelin’s phone rang. She had no idea who called her but it could be one of her parents, calling her from wherever they were now or even Aedion who had a habit to lose his phone.

“Hello?”

“Aelin?” A deep voice asked and Aelin thought she recognized it in the back of her brain but she couldn’t put a name on who it belonged to.

“I’m not trying to be rude but, who are you?”

The man laughed and the sound gave her chills. “It’s Arobynn Hamel. Your mother was supposed to give you my phone number but I guess she forgot.”

Her body froze. Arobynnn Hamel. Of course, she knew that voice, she had watched enough interviews of him to become familiar with it, she even met him two days ago. She sat straighter in her bed, attracting the worried gaze of her three friends. With a more serious face than they had ever seen, Aelin motioned for them to remain silent.

“Oh gods, I’m sorry, Mister Hamel. She didn’t give me your number, I’m very sorry.” She was so embarrassed, Mala knew how much Aelin would be mad at her mom for it. Her friends looked surprised at who called her.

“Calm down, Aelin. It’s okay.” He comforted her as he laughed softly. “And call me Arobynn.”

“Alright.” She said and waited for him to explain why he was calling her, not that she wasn’t happy about it because she was. She just knew she would embarrass herself if she opened her mouth and started talking.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” He asked and Aelin furrowed her brows. That was weird but exciting at the same time.

“No, I am free. Why?”

“We didn’t have a lot of time to talk Saturday and I think it’s a shame. I am still in Orynth for two days and would like to talk with you. Your mother told me you wanted to be an author or work in the publishing industry, is it true?”

“Yes,” it was the fastest answer of her life. Yes, she had always dreamed of working around books.

“From what I’ve heard, Aelin Galathynius, you are special. I’d like to see that by myself. Allow me to take you out for dinner tomorrow and we can talk about your future.”

If Arobynn Hamel helped her… She could become a successful author. She could picture it, a small house, Sam at her side, a study full of books she wrote, a life away from the spotlight, a happy life. It’s exactly what she wanted. Special, he thought she was special.

“Dress code?”

He laughed again and Aelin couldn’t help but smile. “Something like the dress you had on Saturday should be good. I’ll pick you up at seven, is it good for you?”

“Perfect.”

They hung up and she looked at her friend, still surprised, and smile. She was thoughtfully happy.

“Aelin?” Aedion asked, tearing her from her daydream. “You there?”

“Sorry. What is it?” She was tired and hungover, she didn’t get lots of sleep last night and she was feeling the effects. Dorian had left early this morning, long before anyone woke up. It was better than having to face Aedion’s judgmental looks.

“I asked if your scholarship got renewed for next year, Lysandra got the answer in the mail yesterday so you’re supposed to have yours too, right?” She looked up from her bowl of cereals, confused for a second. When she met Rowan Whitethorn’s face, with the same confused expression as her, she remembered.

Lysandra, Aedion, and everyone else believed she got a scholarship, frankly, she had no idea how they believed her. But they never had a reason to distrust her, that’s probably the reason.

Most of her relation with Arobynn was secret and the money he spent on her was part of the lie.

“Yeah, everything is taken care of.” She smiled, it was the truth in a way. She dared to look at Rowan and she didn’t why, didn’t know how, but she knew he didn’t believe her. She could see it in his frown and eyes.

“Good,” her cousin smiled as he drank his coffee.

She smiled back, he was worried for her, she knew it. It’s exactly why she didn’t tell him anything, he didn’t need the stress. “I’ve got everything under control.”

---------

“What are you still doing here?” Arobynn asked, startling Aelin. She had been too busy on her computer to hear him coming. “It’s past nine, we finished hours ago.”

They both had worked for hours today and she was tired. “What are you still doing here?” She asked.

“I asked first, darling.” He sat in his chair in front of her. She was still in her seat, the chair almost belonged to her for all the time she spent on it. She wanted to be annoyed at him but today had been different. He had been different. He wasn’t the Arobynn she had known years ago but he was close, closer than he usually was lately. Aelin was pretty sure he hadn’t had a drink all day, which could explain his mood. That was a good thing.

“I’m writing and waiting for my cousin to check his damn phone so he can pick me up.”

“Where’s your car?”

“Broken,” she grilled through her teeth. The damn truck had decided not to work this morning, causing Aelin to have a nervous breakdown. “A friend of mine had a look at it and told me it would cost me more to repair it than to buy a new one, so here I am, depending on my cousin.” She hated it, hated to depend on someone. But it seemed to happen a lot lately, so she might have to get used to it. “What are you doing here?” She repeated.

“My meeting lasted two hours,” he said, his voice hard.

“Ah, sucks when you have to actually do your job, right?” She remarked and didn’t know if it was a reproach for the way he over-worked her or a teasing. Maybe both, she didn’t want to wonder about it too much.

“Someone’s feisty today,” he joked and she fought a small smile. “Ready for Monday?”

“I already told you no, Arobynn.”

“Why not? You finish the school year in four days.”

“I have a job, Arobynn. I can’t just-”

“Everything’s taken care of.” He cut her off with a smile. It was the kind of smile that told her he had done something and was feeling rather proud of it.

“What.”

“Did you know Rofle was my friend? After a drink or two, he agreed to let you come back in September, right after your internship at Hamel Publishing.”

“And you did that after I told you no?” Her tone was rising. “And are you friends with everyone here?”

He rose from his seat to stand right before her. She had to raise her head to look him in the eye. One of his calloused hands rested on her cheek, caressing her cheekbone. "You know how powerful I am." She did, Arobynn wasn’t just a successful author or the CEO of a publishing company, those were just hobbies for him. He had grown up in a rich family, had been raised to be like every rich people. He had learned how fake smiles and words were weapons, how to manipulate people. He had a way to manipulate everyone he called his friends, whether it was a picture, a video, or a letter. He had something on everyone. “I once promised you I would make you shine, Aelin. I won’t let a shitty job ruin that promise.” For years he had told her she was special, he had told her she could reach the stars should she just let him help her. And for years she had believed him, so she decided to do it again. She only nodded and it seemed to be enough for him.“I’m calling a cab for you.”

“No.”

“No?” His voice was surprised. “Is it because of the money?”

“For fuck sake Arobynn I can afford a cab ride,” that was a total lie, but he didn’t need to know that. “I just… can’t.”

Understanding and pity flashed on Arobynn’s face and she had to keep herself from yelling at him for it. “You still can’t?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” She said voice hard that didn’t let room for questions.

“Pack your things, I’ll drive you.” This was what Arobynn from four years ago would have said, what the Arobynn she had come to know would have said. In a flicker of hope, she said yes. Hope that she could erase what happened between them, that she would forget like Arobynn repeatedly asked her to, and just start again because she didn’t know how to survive another person leaving her.

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

It was the middle of the night when Rowan heard her cries.

At first, he had ignored them, trying to give her privacy. It was unusual of her to let someone hear her, so Rowan thought it might be very bad. But after five minutes of cries, he couldn’t stay in his bed anymore.

When he walked into her room, his heart broke a little. She was in bed, sleeping, trashing against the sheets, crying, and trying to talk. Even with only the light from the bathroom, he could see the pain written all over her face.

He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t just walk back to his room and ignore her. So, he shook her shoulder, trying to wake her up but it didn’t work. She kept jerking in her bed as if she was fighting with the pillows and her blanket.

“Aelin,” he said, using both his hands to shake her. “Aelin,” he repeated louder. Her eyes jerked open, she turned her head several times, trying to figure out where she was. Her whole body shook and a second later she leaned over the bed and vomited her guts out. Rowan held her hair back, avoiding touching her directly so as not to overwhelm her.

When she lay back down in bed, she was still crying, her limbs shaking as if she were hypothermic even though Rowan could see the sweat glistening on her skin.

Rowan had only seen one person look so wrecked in his entire life, himself. He saw it every time he woke up and looked into the mirror. It was worse ten years ago because he had no idea how to hide it, in a decade he learned how to conceal everything. How to recognize which night was most likely to give him a nightmare, learned how to stay quiet while he felt like dying inside.

“You should take a shower,” Rowan said, voice softer than he has ever used with her. He had been wrong, so wrong.

“I don’t think I have the strength.”

“To shower?” He asked but there was no judgment, he only wanted to make sure.

“To live.” Her small voice broke and his heart did too. When she looked up at him, eyes filled with tears, Rowan didn’t see anything but desperation and loathing. He knew it wasn’t directed at him but at herself.

“Come here,” he said as he slid his arms under her body. “We’re gonna clean you up, okay?” He lifted her up from her bed, avoiding the content of her stomach on the floor as her weak arms curled around his neck and he guided her to the bathroom.

————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

[massivedrickhead]

I’m a glutton for punishment, could you pretty please do a follow up to the ‘you don’t know who I am’ bechloe week prompt? 😭

Sometimes I wonder if you lot are okay and then I remember I’m the one writing it…

Part 1

Read on AO3

“Mom, are you listening?” Blake asked, shooting a concerned glance at her sister. “Do you understand what I’ve just said?”

Chloe just hummed, absentmindedly twisting the wedding band on her finger, as she looked out the window from her room.

She liked this spot by the window because it meant she could see Beca arriving, and she would be here any minute.

“Mom?” Riley tried this time.

Chloe turned to look at them. “Yes?”

“Did… did you hear what Blake just said?” Riley’s eyes were red from crying. It felt like all she’d done was cry the past few days. “About… about Mom?”

Chloe’s breath quickened for a moment, as she replayed the news the girls had just given her, trying to make sense of it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Chloe said, turning back to the window.

“I’m not lying,” Blake said, her voice breaking slightly. “Mom… Mom died. The doctor said she was sick, but she didn’t tell us.”

“He said it was peaceful,” Riley said, sniffing. “She died in her sleep.”

“Of course she didn’t,” Chloe said, her eyes still fixed on the drive of the nursing home.

“I found her,” Riley said before she dissolved into tears again. “Blake, I can’t.” She left the room.

With a sigh, Blake approached Chloe, and took both her hands in hers. “Mom, can you look at me?”

Chloe did, surprised to see tears in her eldest daughter’s eyes.

“I know this is hard for you to understand,” Blake said. “I know this isn’t your fault. But I need you to really try and hear me, okay? Mom - Beca - she died. A couple of days ago now. We keep trying to explain it to you, but you aren’t… it isn’t taking hold.”

Chloe swallowed, tears filling her eyes.

“I don’t understand,” she said, softly.

“I know, Mom,” Blake said, swallowing the lump in her throat, forcing herself to keep it together.

“You look a lot like my daughter, you know?” Chloe said, her voice shifting from heartbreak to curiosity in seconds.

Blake closed her eyes and tears slipped down her cheeks. She wanted to scream at her Mom that she was her daughter, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“Wait till my wife gets here, you’ll see. She’ll tell you just how much you look like her,” Chloe said, brightly, her attention returning to the window.

“Okay,” Blake said. “I should probably go, I need to get home to the kids.”

“No,” Chloe said, “wait a few more minutes? Beca will be here soon.”

“Why didn’t you remember her when she was alive?” Came Riley’s voice from the doorway. “She might have… she would have fought if she still had you.”

“Riley,” Blake said, softly. “Come on, this won’t help.”

“You were her entire world,” Riley said, tears coming quickly, “but it seemed like you remembered pretty much everyone but her. Do you know what that did to her?”

“Riley,” Blake said, again. “Stop it.”

“Who are you?” Chloe asked, feeling attacked.

“Who are you?!” Riley snapped. “You’re supposed to be my Mom but-”

“Enough,” Blake said, cutting her off. “Go and wait for me in the lobby. This isn’t helping.”

With a noise of frustration, Riley left the room.

Blake turned back to face Chloe.

“She’s upset with me?” Chloe asked, looking almost childlike.

“No, Mom,” Blake said. “Not really. She’s just… she misses Mom. And she misses you.”

Chloe nodded, and looked down at her wedding band. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m… I’m scared.” She looked back at Blake. “I know I’m supposed to know who you are, but you keep… flickering.”

“Who do you think I am?” Blake asked, her voice nothing but patient and kind.

Chloe lifted her hand to Blake’s dark brown hair, and gently touched it.

“You look like…” Chloe’s eyes searched Blake’s. She studied the shape of her nose and the colour of her eyes. She knew she was someone. “I think you’re someone very special to me.”

“Yeah,” Blake sniffed. “I think I am.” Chloe smiled, and Blake kissed her Mom on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Chloe said, turning to face the window again.

She wasn’t sure who she was waiting for anymore, but she carried on waiting.

Outside Riley was being consoled by one of the nurses. When she saw Blake approaching she looked guilty, and suddenly she was a little kid again.

“Ri, we can’t talk to her like that,” Blake said, softly, taking a seat beside her. “You know that. It isn’t her fault.”

“I know,” Riley said, sniffing. “I just… I want Mom.”

“Come here,” Blake said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “I wish she was here too.”

“I thought we had time with her, you know? I wish she’d told us. I wish we could have been able to prepare,” Riley said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Finding her like that…” Riley dissolved into tears again.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Blake said, tears stinging her own eyes.

“Do you think she understands?” Riley asked after a few moments of silence.

“No,” Blake said. “She’s getting worse by the day. It’s probably kinder if we don’t tell her again.”

After that day, Chloe didn’t remember her daughters again. Beca would float into her mind occasionally, but never for very long.

Blake visited every other day, because she knew that’s what Beca would have wanted her to do, but Riley found it too hard. In her mind, she had lost both of her parents.

Blake would sit and listen to Chloe tell stories about her childhood, until her early memories started to slip from her too.

Her speech was beginning to fail, and her balance was poor too.

Blake knew it was a matter of months, not years, that she had left with her Mom.

“Do you want to see a picture of Davey?” Blake asked on her last visit. “It was his birthday last week.” It had been six months since they lost Beca, and Davey’s birthday felt like the first time she really smiled in a long time.

“Who?” Chloe asked, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

“My little boy,” Blake said. Your grandson, she almost said. She handed Chloe her phone.

Chloe smiled. “I always wanted kids,” she said.

Blake swallowed hard as she took back her phone.

“What did you say your name was?” Chloe asked.

“Blake,” Blake said.

You used to tuck me in at night and you used to hold me when I cried.

Mom would carry me on her shoulders and taught me how to play piano, and you used to make me chocolate chip pancakes when I was sad.

You would sing to me when I was sick and Mom once had a fight with a guy who took my picture.

“That’s a nice name,” Chloe said, stifling a yawn.

“Thank you,” Blake said. You chose it. “My Mom chose it.”

“Well I suppose it’s time for you to go now,” Chloe said, her social skills not what they were.

“Yeah,” Blake said, wiping the corner of her eye on her sleeve. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. “Goodbye, then.”

“Bye.” I love you. I miss you.

Chloe woke up the next morning and for the first time in a very long time, she felt like herself.

The fog that had filled her mind was gone, along with the constant aches and pains that had filled her body.

It was such a relief. Like waking up from a nightmare and realising everything was okay.

Beca was sitting on the end of her bed.

“Hey you,” she said, smiling sadly. She was younger than Chloe thought she should be. Early thirties at the oldest. “I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

Something twisted inside of Chloe, and she looked down at her hands. Gone were the wrinkles and age spots. They were young with freshly painted, neatly trimmed nails.

“Oh,” Chloe said, reality hitting her as a cold chill ran down her back.

She turned and saw herself - the old lady she’d become - still lying on the bed. Eyes closed, chest still.

“Come on,” Beca said, holding out a hand. “It’s okay, you don’t need to be afraid.”

“The girls?”

“They… it’s going to be hard for them. But they’ll get through it,” she said.

“I can’t go back? I can’t say anything to them? I… I forgot them, Beca. When… I don’t know when I last told them I loved them,”

“They knew,” Beca said, softly. “We can’t go back.”

“I don’t want to leave them,” Chloe said. She didn’t know if she could cry in whatever form she was in, but she wanted to.

“I know. I didn’t want to either. People rarely do. But we can keep an eye on them and, eventually, they’ll come and join us,” Beca said.

Chloe swallowed and nodded. “I missed you,” she said, “I’m so sorry I forgot you.”

Beca smiled, and tears filled her eyes. “I missed you too.”

She held out her hand again, and Chloe took it. She felt warmth spreading through her.

“How much time do we have?” Chloe asked, smiling as Beca pulled her into a hug.

“We have forever.”

[p4lparker]

I’ll Save You

It was scary. After everything we'd been through; Crazy Peter Hale, Hunters and a Kanima. This was by far the worst threat we'd faced.

Virgin sacrifices.

For who knows what purpose, but still at four sacrifices, we were beginning to worry. I'd try to go through the school day- learning as normal, but all of my focus laid with a blurred face of a mutilated teenager. The next victim. Scott was worried, we had no idea who was behind this, and anyone could be next. Well not just anyone, only people who hadn't done the do just yet. I'd been keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any sign of a clue or something to help us protect people, but I had nothing. Stiles was working over drive, writing on his crime board and furiously trying to figure out a pattern or a way to put an end to it all. But no dice, and I could tell he was becoming increasingly upset by that. We were in his room. I watched as he wrote something on his board then wiped it off moments later, I watched as he tapped his pen against his teeth. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, he tugged at the ends and groaned from the lack of inspiration and partially the pain I'm guessing. I stayed studying him from my position on the bed.

"Hey, we'll work it out- don't worry.." I said to him, trying to soothe his obviously frayed nerves. As he turned d to face me; I took my chance to really look at him. His face was pale, his skin looking as if he were ill, the bags under his eyes looked as if they had bags. I could see the stubble decorating the bottom half of his face, him being so focused on trying to keep people alive- shaving had slipped his mind. I saw the rumpled clothes covering his body, as if he'd just grabbed them from the floor, I saw the twinkle that was usually in his chocolatey gaze- was missing. All in all, Stiles Stilinski was a mess.

 "Yeah, we'll figure it out Y/N. But how many others have to die. Be sacrifices before we do. It might be someone we know next time... One of our friends! And we can’t do shit, cause we're a bunch of scared kids who are in over our heads. We can't protect anyone, especially not ourselves!" Was the snapped answer I received. I just stayed frozen in my place. My eyes wide and head angled back slightly in shock. I bit my lip, before I looked away from him. Not wanting him to see how hurt his words and tone of voice had made me feel. It was kind of lame, to be so upset by frustrated words; but Stiles had never, ever spoken to me like that. And it was a shock to the system to say the least. I looked down at the book in my lap, my fingers brushing against the page absent minded manner- trying to distract myself.

"You're right. I guess we should stop bothering then yeah? Let whatever it is take kids and murder them for no reason.. Other than them being virgins. Cause we're useless and can't win right?" I hissed, as an anger bubbled up inside me. Stiles had never spoken to me like that, and I wasn't going to let him start now. I let my eyes lift to watch as his shoulders tensed. “Maybe we should just throw all of this away and turn our backs on everything huh?” I stated, my voice getting stronger with each word- the anger fuelling me. As I shoved all of the books covering Stiles’ bed and my legs onto the floor. I stood up and stared at him-trying to prove a point before yanking up my bag and jacket. I flung open the door and stormed out. With each step I felt anger surging me further out of the house- it burned fiercely and forced me into my car, I drove myself home and settled in for the night. Slamming open the door, giving it the same treatment to close it. I stomped to my room- flinging clothes off as I went. Yanking on sleep clothes and throwing myself into bed for the night. I drifted off eventually, but it was into a fitful nights sleep.

The next morning I woke up in a similar mood to the one I went to bed in. I could still feel the rage simmering underneath my skin. Going through the motions of getting ready for the day; I soon arrived at school and was able to ignore Stiles in person, instead of just avoiding his messages and calls. Every chance I got, I avoided him. Not wanting to be near him until I calmed down. At the end of the day, he approached me cautiously; head bowed sheepishly, hands fidgeting with each other and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. And it made my heart stutter at how he presented himself. His body language screamed that he was asking for forgiveness, and I thought I’d let him stew a little longer for my own selfish enjoyment before granting the reconciliation I’d already planned to give him. I looked at him from the corner of my eye and with my books and bag; waltzed from the building and to the parking lot. I smiled to myself as I rest against Stiles’ jeep and waited for him to make an appearance. I watched as he walked to the car, head still bowed and fingers still fidgeting- but now with the keys, he hadn’t noticed me yet.

“Stilinski!” I called, watching as his body jerked in surprise. His arms flying out to ward off an oncoming attacker; not that it would do much good. His head swinging up at a pace that obviously gave him a crick in his neck from the way he gripped it. His gaze was wide and worried until he spotted me leaning against the hood of the car. I smiled slightly and moved forwards until I could wrap my arms around him- the sadness on his face made me wish I could squeeze it from his body, once his own arms squeezed me back. I finally sighed and pulled back from him. Nodding my head to the car stood beside us, Stiles smiled slightly and let us both in. He drove us slowly to his house, and parked in the driveway before he led us both into the house. We dumped our bags by the end of his bed, when we finally made it to his room.

 "Hey nerd, I forgive you. I get it. This whole sitch is messed up. And maybe you're right, maybe we can't help people or save them or protect them. But we can try!" I murmured as I noticed his hunched body. I ruffled his already messy hair as I walked past him on my way to throw myself at his computer. I let my fingers dance over the keys- I tried to delve into why virgins would be sacrificed. But at every turn I was stonewalled. Most of the websites or 'research' was made by hacks who were probably still in their Goth phase. It had been the same thing for the last hour. Either Stiles or I groaning in frustration, as we each hit another dead end in the research. We were getting nowhere and it was beginning to make me lose hope and my mind. I looked over to see Stiles slumped, his head hanging off the side of the bed and the book he was reading was lying on top of his head. He was defeated as his tired eyes looked up at me.

 "Any luck?" He all but sighed out, gesturing to the computer behind me. I shook my head and he growled tugging at his hair. I stood from his desk chair and flopped onto the bed landing on him. He let out an 'Ooof' as I landed on his back. I giggled lightly before rolling off him and landing beside him with a bounce. He turned his face to look at my own. His eyes still looked sad, his whole demeanour was that of a stranger- and it was beginning to drive me crazier than the failed researching.

 "Alright Stilinski. You're moping is making me want to punch you.. Spill." I stated poking his cheek with my finger, it following all of the freckles and moles that were scattered about his skin. He frowned before glaring at my prodding appendage.

"Gee, I don't think punching me will help. It would probably make me feel worse, I mean then I'd be in physical pain and I may even get a black eye or something, and that would just make my mood worse. Cause then I'd have to explain how I got beat up by you to everyone.. And that is just embarrassing..." Stiles began to ramble, his words flowing out of his mouth quickly, so quickly they made me dizzy. I cut him off before my head could explode by pressing my hand over his mouth and stopping his words escaping. His eyes were wide as I felt my own narrow. One of his eye lids dropped into a wink, which made me narrow my eyes further wondering what he had planned. Until I felt something wet settle into the palm of my hand and make a trail up it. I realised with a grimace, that it was his tongue. He'd licked my hand. He'd licked my hand like a 5th grader.

 "Ewww! You licked me!" I called out, whipping my hand from his face in disgust. Stiles just smirked sticking his tongue out at me in victory. I glared at him before talking him from the bed all together. We rolled until we landed in a heap on the floor. As we tumbled, he’d miraculously managed to twist and turn until he was situated underneath me- it was impressive, and he let out another huff of air as it was forced from his body by my weight landing on him. I stared at him from above and smiled brightly at his slightly pained grimace- before shoving myself off of him and pulling him up after me.

“How about we watch a movie.. Forget about the research that is taking us nowhere for now and just relax. It looks like you need it..” I suggested pointing to the Tv in the room. I’d already decided what we’d watch, all I needed was for him to agree and to actually relax for a while; maybe then he’s tell me what was bugging him so much. He just stared at me and nodded, a faint smile painting his lips. I pushed all of the books onto the floor and from his comfy bed; much like I had done the night before, but this time I was slightly more gentle about it. I grinned and gestured for him to leave the room- meaning he was to make the popcorn whilst I set up in the bedroom. I watched as he walked from the room,  he was muttering under his breath as he went. I smiled and set to making the bed comfy, I scanned the wrack of DVD’s on his walls grinning as the exact one I was looking for was in a prized position in the centre. Pulling it from the shelf and placing it delicately in the side of his TV- I let it play through until it got to the menu and selected the play movie section. I waited until he trundled back up the stairs and plonked himself down on the bed next to me. I heard a gasp and turned my head to face him, his face was covered in a broad grin- his eyes were lit up and sparkling, his teeth were showing and his dimples looked deeper than ever. Just looking at the happiness on his face was contagious, I couldn’t help but grin back at him.  We both settled in for the movie, not long into it I noticed Stiles wasn’t as into it as he usually would be. And my mind drifted back to worrying for him. I gently gripped his hand between both of my own, squeezing softly.

“What’s wrong Robin?” I whispered softly, still squeezing his hand. He turned to look at me, but this time a grin wasn’t covering his face. A frown was; a deep frown that furrowed his eyebrows, one that  made his chocolatey gaze appear muddy, one that made my heart ache slightly.

“I’m scared Y/N.” Was all he whispered back, I nodded and wrapped my arms around his shoulders- pulling him towards me and into a slightly awkward hug. I could hear him sigh softly, as his head rested on my shoulder. I wondered how I could make thing better for him, and my mind was coming up empty; his cool breath was causing goose-bumps to raise on the exposed skin. Biting my lip to ensure he couldn’t tell of the change in my body, I could feel the shivers wanting to wrack my body. Ignoring the feeling, and deciding to pull him closer to me- slipping one leg over his hips, one leg on each side of his hips. I let my arm circle around his shoulders, running my fingers through his growing hair- as he wrapped his arms around my waist and kept his head resting against my collarbone. “I’m terrified I’m next..” he whispered so lowly, I struggled to hear his words. I pulled back slightly, causing him to lift his head and look me directly in the eyes; his caramel gaze was solemn, and I thought I could see unshed tears shining within the depths.

“Scott wouldn’t let that happen. And neither would I…” I stated firmly, looking him in the eyes- I could feel the determined expression on my face. I watched as he shook his head, obviously not believing my words. I frowned, I would save him. I wouldn’t let anything happen to this beautiful boy I was wrapped around. An idea burst through my mind, and before I could comprehend my actions. His face was turned to the side, avoiding me- I moved my face in line with his own. Gently letting my lips press against his own softly; I could feel the uncertainty in his pouted lips, his head turning to face me once more. I pulled back slowly, looking to his frowned face to see his reaction. It was apparent after a couple minutes of silence and Stiles sitting completely still- which was a feat in itself, that he wasn’t going to make a move to either stop this or push it onwards. Taking in a deep breath, and settling my shaken resolve- I pressed forwards again. My lips pushed against his own, the fusion of our lips just as gentle as before. We kissed gently for what felt like eternity; neither of us pushing it, wanting to stay in that moment for as long as possible- lips moving with each other delicately. Our lips parted for seconds- allowing for breath, but they soon met again. It was like were both addicted to one another’s lips; his were plump and smooth, as they danced with my own. Stiles left a lingering kiss on my mouth, pulling back just slightly.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He whispered, his plush lips brushing against my own with every word he spoke- sending my mind fuzzy with the sensation, I tried to concentrate on what he’d said; but my mind was spinning quickly and slowly all at once.

“I’m kissing you.” I stated simply, before pushing my lips that last millimetre to meet his own. I wasn’t sure what he made of my response, but he didn’t stop kissing me. His hold on my waist was tight, his large hands squeezing gently, holding me to him as if he was worried I’d disappear. Shifting myself in his lap to get more comfortable, my centre coming into contact with his own. A whiny moan escaped our lips, I wasn’t sure who it came from- but it seemed like the sound had flicked some kind of switch in my brain. Gasping as his lips left my own, grazing over my chin and down to the skin of my neck. He pressed a kiss on the column- as if testing out some scientific theory, pulling back to see my reaction. I could feel my eyes were closed, and my mouth was open in a silent moan. He surged forwards and let his lips trace kisses down the delicate skin- leading towards my collarbone. When he made contact with the skin there, I let out the moan that was desperately clawing at my vocal chords to be released. He chuckled against my skin, before pressing one last kiss to it- his lips searching for my own. Finding their home against them, and pulling me into a passionate kiss. His tongue poking out to tickle against my bottom lip, I giggled at the feeling and let him in. Letting him map out my mouth, his tongue touching and tasting- dancing with my own. My fingers tangled themselves in his soft hair, pressing him more firmly against me.

His dexterous fingers traced over my sides, before settling on my hips- he pushed me down further onto him. Unconsciously pushing my hips back and forth on him, giving us both a delicious friction that had me wanting more; but I remembered this was for him. But as things progressed, I realised I needed this too. I needed to feel him and see him come undone- passion and lust shining on his face as euphoria washed over him. Pulling my fingers from his hair, settling them on his shoulders- feeling the soft material of his checked shirt beneath my excited fingers; I pushed the material to fall from his broad shoulders, revealing the white cotton t-shirt beneath. I pulled back from the kiss and stared into his eyes, tugging gently on his over shirt until it reached his wrists; he promptly let go of my hips, allowing me to pull it from his hands, letting my fingers wander to the hem of his t-shirt- I gently tugged it up. Stiles got the message, and aided me in pulling it up his lean torso; with each centimetre of skin that was revealed, I could see the smooth skin, taut and lean over the visible muscles- which jumped when my fingers made contact. Stiles tried to reach up and connect our lips again, but I denied him in favour of just staring at him. His pale skin, unmarked and tempting. His lean frame, tucking in towards his waist but broadening at his shoulders, his biceps bunched slightly as they gripped at my own t-shirt. His veiny forearms; which had stared in many of my day dreams, leading down to his nimble fingers. I could see a faint blush lighting his speckled cheeks, when I turned my glance to his face. Hi bottom lip was being wet by his tongue as it poked out of his mouth. I could feel his fingers delving under the fabric of my top, discovering the skin of my stomach. He tugged slightly at the material, and I lifted my arms above my head; allowing him to remove the top and drop it next to our bodies. His fingers traced over the skin softly, so softly it tickled and caused a giggle to bubble from my lips. He smiled at the reaction, before pressing his fingertips more firmly into the skin- he tickled me quicker, causing our joined laughter to ring out and drown the sounds from the tv playing in the background.

I pushed my lips to his, distracting his fingers from their task. They still rest against my waist and hips, but had ceased their movements; as his lips took over the movements. One of his hands runs up my body and lands on my neck- his thumb bracing my jaw as our lips move in synchronicity. I let my fingers trail over his torso; feeling the soft, smooth skin, tracing them further down until they rest against the buckle of his belt. I slipped the leather through the metal and let it fall open, before gently wiggling the button of his jeans through the hole- dragging the zip down it’s track. Stroking over the band of his boxers delicately- it was then that he gasped and pulled back from my lips; his caramel eyes dark with lust, holding a look of uncertainty as he stared from his open trousers and my eager hand- to my face.  

“What’re you doing?” He repeated, his voice cracking. I looked at his face; his eyebrows were furrowed as they tried to comprehend what was happening.

“I’m going to make you feel good..” I muttered against his lips, before pushing gently on his chest. Forcing him to lie on the bed he was sat on- I lifted myself from his slightly and heard a disappointed groan erupt from him. I looked up at his face, before dropping my lips to the skin I was desperate to touch. Kissing over his neck, biting at it and sucking a mark into his skin- proving he was mine. Before trailing lower, grazing over his chest- licking at the lines of his body. Gradually dipping over the definition on his stomach, licking lower until it traced over the waistband of his boxers. I placed my fingers in the front pockets of his jeans and tugged them down; them getting stuck on his hips, and thighs, and finally his knees. I struggled to pull them from his body for laughing so hard- his chuckles joined my own as he raised his hips and manoeuvred his legs around to help me. Once I had the material in my hands, I huffed out a breath before throwing the fabric away as if it offended me. Stiles was leaning up on his elbows and watching as I tossed the jeans away from me- sticking my tongue out as they went sailing across the room. I turned to face him again; and gasped at the sight of him, sat there and waiting for me to join him once more. I moved back over to him, straddling him once more and connecting our lips. He was more confident now, and let his own tongue play with mine quickly, I rest my weight on one hand before allowing my other to feel over his heated skin. Finally coming to a stop at the bulge in his boxers, pressing against it lightly- only to feel his jolt up to meet it more fully. I squeezed him through the thin fabric, trying to get used to the size of him with my hand. A needy whine bubbled from his throat, that made my hand take hold of him through the material and pump him gently. A strangled sound came from him, as wetness leaked onto the fabric and my hand slightly- a wetness pooled in my own underwear at the desperate sounds he was making.

Palming him with one hand, and letting the other pull at the waistband of his boxers- tugging them down and letting him spring free. His cock resting on his stomach heavily- drops of pre-come leaking from the pink tip, the colour almost matching the dusting on his cheeks. I cast my eyes back up his body- seeing his almost black eyes focused solely on me; watching me marvel at him and his nakedness. Not being able to hold back any longer- my tongue licked up the underside of him- tracing along the prominent vein, feeling every ridge before licking over the head. All I could hear was growling and groaning from above me; my eyes rolled up to watch him. His eyes were screwed shut tightly, his bottom lip was being bitten by his teeth and his arm was thrown over his forehead- fist clenched in mid-air, his other was fisting the sheets. I opened my lips, holding him at the base and slipped him inside.

“Oooh..” Stiles whined out. I let him get used to the feeling of being wrapped in my mouth, I gently sucked the head- and was rewarded with more pre-come leaking out onto my waiting tongue. I slowly slipped my lips further over him, taking more of him into my waiting mouth. Bobbing up and down his heavy cock slowly, the parts of him I couldn’t fit into my greedy mouth, I massaged with my hand. My pace quickened just slightly, moving over him at a steady rate. Tasting him more and more as he leaked, I flickered my eyes back up his body as my mouth moved up and down him. His hands were flapping in the air- almost awkwardly, and his eyes were wide staring down at me in wonder, his mouth was dropped open as noises continued to fall from his pouted lips. Growls, groans, moans and whines. All eliciting my own moans as I continued my work, I pulled from him slowly with a pop. Grabbing onto his hand- with the one of mine that wasn’t rubbing over him- and tangling his delicious fingers with my hair, securing it there before moving my lips back over him; his answering whine was needy and made me push myself further down on him before coming back up at a quicker pace. I could feel him thrusting into my mouth, trying to match pace- but he was struggling his lips stuttering when the pleasure got to much- our rhythm didn’t match, but from the desperate calls coming from him I wasn’t sure he minded entirely. His hips jolted more quickly, forcing himself further into my mouth; my throat gagging on him slightly, swallowing the tip of him- I let him thrust into my mouth until finally he filled my mouth with a loud shout. Swallowing his taste down, I moved up his cock gently- knowing he’d be sensitive until he left my lips softly.

I stared down at him; his chest heaving, stomach muscles twitching rapidly as he panted in and out. I watched his face, still scrunched in pleasure and slick with sweat, then I let my eyes drop lower to look at his still erect cock. I felt my eyes widen, a smile tugging at my lips to see him so eager and ready; resting hard and heavy against his lower stomach. I stood from my knees, Stiles opened his eyes and watched; as I reached behind me, flicking the clasp of my bra open, I slid one strap down one shoulder- then the other and let the fabric cage fall from my chest. I watched as Stiles sat up fully; his hungry eyes wandering all over the newly expose flesh, devouring the sight before him. Moving my hands to the fastening on my jeans and popping the button, forcing the zip down its track. And pushing the jeans over my hips and bottom; bending at the hips and tracing them down my legs- all the while not taking my eyes from Stiles’ awe-struck face. I was stood before him in some owl printed underwear; but I wasn’t embarrassed, I had never felt more sexy- than that moment with his desperate eyes tracing over my near bare body. Slipping my thumbs in the elasticated waistband and tugging them from my body- I stood before the Stillinski boy completely naked. His eyes were still wide and dark, and he raised his hands for me. I intertwined our fingers as he pulled me over him- legs either side of his waiting body. Pressing his eager lips against my own and beginning another bout of endless kissing; soft and gentle, yet hard and passionate all at the same time, it was confusing and addictive. I let my fingers find his weighty member again, stroking him up and down- moving him between our bodies. He was poised in front of my folds, I raised myself up; preparing to plunge him deep within me, completely lost in the moment. Stiles ripped his lips from me, panting and staring at me surprised.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He repeated for the third time, hands squeezing at my hips and halting my movements.

“I’m protecting you..” I mumbled, pressing a kiss to his pouted lips. Pulling away from him slightly, I stood from the bed and stumbled over to his bedside table; my trembling hands searched for the protection we needed- the protection I had almost forgotten in the rush of Stiles Stilinski. I stared down into the open drawer; desperate eyes searching in an almost panic. Before calming with my racing heart and laboured breathing as they spotted; and untouched and unopened package, extra large and waiting. Furiously ripping into the box and digging one out; I tore the foil packaging open before stumbling back to Stiles who was waiting on the bed. I pushed back on his chest again, sliding one of my legs over his hips and kneeling above him. I watched as he breathed out a shaky breath, my fingers finding his already leaking cock once more. Pulling the latex from the foil, I rolled it down him almost impatiently. Once he was covered and we were safe, I positioned him between us once more. Rubbing the head of him between my folds and gathering the wetness that was dripping down my thighs and onto his lap. His eyes were wide, and one of his fingers rubbed through the moisture that had leaked from my centre curiously. I held my position, his cock almost pressing into me- as he raised that hand to his face. He rubbed his thumb and fingertip together, as if testing the consistency of the liquid. I giggled slightly and his eyes widened to the point I was worried they’d pop from his face.

“Is this from you? Are you..w-wet?!” He asked amazed, as he watched me grin and nod my head. Before my brain could keep up with his movements; his fingers were pushing his cock out of the way and delving into my folds themselves. They played with the moisture gathered, smoothing it all around my core. Making me moan loudly and embarrassingly. His face was full of wonder as he continued to feel around within me, his fingers coming into contact with the sensitive bud within. The tip of his finger tickled at it inquisitively, rubbing experimentally in circles. I groaned and ground my hips onto his hand eagerly. The sounds of lightsabers colliding in the back ground was drowned out by the sound of his laughter.

“You’re really wet.. Wow.” He mumbled almost to himself, I laughed to, moaning towards the end of it as his fingers picked up their pace. It took all I had to grip onto his wrist and stop his movements; when all I wanted was to sub myself against him until I could feel myself quiver from the pleasure. I breathed out shakily, before pushing his hand away from my centre- I let my other hand pick up his heavy cock once more- positioning him at my entrance. Before surging down on him slowly. A strangled whine came from the beautiful, blissful boy beneath me. My mouth dropped open in a silent moan; a wide ‘O’ shape as he bottomed out within me. I held still, moments pacing as I could feel him pulse inside me; trying to get used to the feeling. I let him settle, before lifting up from him slightly- pushing myself down onto him slowly. Moving at a pace to allow us both the most pleasure, and to allow him to become accommodated with being within someone. Grinding my hips slowly in circles, his hands grasped at my neck- one cupping my jaw and the other pulling on the back of it. Forcing my lips to his in a desperate kiss, and manipulating my body so I was flush against him. Stomach to stomach. Chest to chest. Lips against lips. Kissing furiously as my hips rode him at a leisurely pace. One of his hands slipped from my neck, sliding down my body and squeezing at my naked ass- palming at the fleshy cheek; before sliding back up my body and giving my breast the same treatment. It was then I was forced to move quicker on him, forcing my hips to canter forwards and backwards; pushing us both closer towards the edge.

As our pace increased, our kiss broke. His mouth was wide open and he was groaning uncontrollably, I knew it wouldn’t take too much longer until he would be spent. I pushed my body up, hands resting against his heaving chest; before I pushed my hips as quickly as I could, whines slipping from my mouth to match his. Stiles, lifted his hips and thrust into me.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

Before his hips stuttered and he called out loudly, his cock pulsing within me- and he was filling the condom. I continued to ride him through it, trying to prolong that feeling of ecstasy for him. Once he’d finished, his hands gripped at my hips and ceased their slow grinding. He was breathing quickly, his breath fanning against my sweaty skin- cooling it instantly, before heating it up again as his fingers caressed over it. We laid in silence for a few moments, neither of us moving- apart from Stiles connecting out hands and intertwining our fingers mid-air.

“Oh my God!” He murmured out. I smiled down at him, his face was red and covered in sweat; but I didn’t mind, it made him more beautiful to me, I’d just seen him experience euphoria, and it was all because of me. “Oh Jesus.. Th-that was amazing..” He laughed, a grin beaming from his tired face, I just nodded and squeezed his hands. “Wait.. You didn’t y’know.. finish?” Stiles stated, his face morphing from a gorgeous grin to a frown- that almost hurt my heart. I smiled gently and shook my head at him. Stiles’ face was set in a scowl, and he pushed his lips against my own- kissing me heatedly, making my pulse rise quickly. I was too wrapped up in the feeling of his lips almost bruising my own; to notice that he’d let one of my hands drop. And his fingers were working themselves between us. I didn’t know what was happening until I felt his fingers press and circle at the neglected bud with my still slicked folds, I was still wet- and getting wetter by the second as his fingers played with my core. He was experimenting mostly; seeing what would happen if he moved in a certain, figuring out which movement of his fingers would make me moan the loudest. Soon enough under his attentions, I was grinding myself into his hand- he was rubbing me to my end quickly and efficiently. Soon enough my hips were jerking quickly against his hand; quivering as I came. I whined as I felt the shocks running through my body. I breathed heavily into Stile’s neck, coming down from my high- he ran a hand through my sweaty and knotty hair,. “That’s better..” Stiles whispered, before dropping a kiss to my head.  He held my hands again, supporting my weight on his elbows and helped me to roll from his body in shaky knees. When I was situated, he sat up on the bed, with his legs falling over the side. He pulled the filled condom from himself and disposed of it in the bin by his desk.

He picked up his marvel printed boxers and tugged them on, before grabbing onto his red plaid shirt I’d discarded earlier. When he came back to the bed, he helped me to pull the shirt onto my tired but satisfied body, before tugging me back to him. Wrapping his arms around me and snuggling me close to his body- pulling the covers over both of us as we cuddled in silence.

“Thank you.” He whispered against my lips, we settled again. Smiling against his chest- listening to his heart beat which was beginning to slow to a normal pace now.

“I told you I’d save you.” I whispered as I watched him doze into a peaceful sleep, following not too long after him. Cuddled close to his body, with his mouth pressed against my hair. Stiles was safe, and that was all I could ask for.