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duck-short-depressed-king · 6 months ago

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(A/N: Yes, Ive kept this a secret until now! You will be receiving. I know I said on my 'Blog Info' post I won't do none of these. SIKE! Im not deleting that off either. Hope you enjoy! Now my stuff won't be long as hell, so..sorry about that. Please do not criticize me for my bad writing. I'm not new to these fanfic stuff, I ONLY READ THEM.

Warnings: Body Parts / Flirting / Mild Cursing / Mention Of Perverting (A joke!) / OOC

🍎🪽Chapter #1

You and the King of hell knew each other for a while since the hotel has been rebuilt in all. But Lucifer here, started to develop feelings for you. But he kept them a secret because it wasn't sure how to tell you. But today, he built up the courage to go to your room and ask you out on a date. With a nervous look on his face, he knocked on the door. "Reader? Are you up?" He asked. It was pretty early within the hotel.

I just woke up from my nap, yawning. My hair a mess and I was in some really short pants, with a long shirt on. I walked over to the door and answered. "I am now..." I opened the door, revealing Lucifer. What could he want?

His cheeks flushed, seeing your hair being a mess along with the short pants that you were wearing. He tried to hide the blushed, but it was very obvious. "Can I.. um, come in?" He asked.

"Sure." I answered, opening the for him, as he lets himself in. "So, what do you need?" I asked, sitting down on my bed.

He closes the door behind him and then looks over at you, sitting on your bed. He couldn't help but look at the short pants you were wearing for a bit before looking at your face, his blush increasing. He sat down beside you, a few inches away from you.

He inhaled and then exhaled, gathering his courage before talking. "I need to ask you something... something really important."

I raised an brow. I can fell myself waking up alot more now. I brushed some hair from my face. "What is it?" I asked.

He swallowed hard. He tried to remain calm, but his heart was pounding in his chest like a hammer. He took another breath before talking again. "I've been wanting to ask you this for quite some time now, but I never had the chance to."

He paused for a few seconds before looking straight into your eyes. "I, um... Reader... I was wondering if you... I mean..." He got cut off, his nerves taking over.

"Damn it..." He whispered under his breathe, being frustrated with himself for not saying anything. Then, he took another deep breath before trying again. "I... Reader, will you... go on a date with me?" He finally asked, his face as red as a tomato now.

My eyes widened, my cheeks turning red as well. I mean, wouldn't it be kinda surprising if the King of Hell knocked on your door early in the morning and asked you to go on a date with him? I thought to myself. I always had feelings for the King Of Hell myself... this wouldn't go wrong...right? I had no idea how to respond to this, so I said the first thing that came to my mind. "Yes!" I quickly said, looking away.

Lucifer looked at you, surprised that you had said yes just as quickly. He expected you to at least think about it for a moment first. But even so, he wasn't complaining. He smiled, his heart now beating a million times per second. "Wait, really?" He asked, a hopeful tone in his voice.

I looked back to the ground, before looking into Lucifer's eyes. The yellow glowing, waking me up a little more. "Y-yes...Id love to go on a date with you." I said so shy. Why do I feel so shy all the sudden...?

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat as you said that you would go on a date with him. He was ecstatic at the sound of that and a large smile spread across he face. "Y-you would?" He asked, wanting to hear you say it once more just to make sure it was actually happening and not some dream from him.

I nodded, my blush getting even wider...

He was so sure that he was dreaming. This just couldn't be reality, could it? But here you were, sitting next to him and saying that you accepted. He was so excited that he couldn't even believe it.

He scooted a little closer to you, looking at you. "S-When... when do you want to go out then?" He asked.

"I-I think I'll be free tomorrow?" I answered, looking back at him. The blush finally fading away now that I seem less shy.

He nods, a soft smile on his face. "Perfect. Tomorrow it is then." He replied before pausing for a moment. "I... I'll come pick you up. What time works best?"

I really had nothing to do tomorrow, expect Charlie's exercises, which lasts about 40 minutes or less. I thought about this, and sighed. "I think I'll be free after Charlie's exercises." I answered.

Lucifer nods again, mentally making a note of the time. "Sounds good." He responded.

He looks at you for a moment, getting a good look at you. He noticed you were wearing some really short pants and a long shirt. He couldn't help but stare at your legs a bit, the shorts not covering much.

I looked at Lucifer, realizing he was staring at something. I followed his gaze down to my legs. Damnit! I forgot that I didn't have the proper pants on. "S-sorry! I should put some pants on so it doesn't distract you..." I apologized, getting up to get some pants from my drawer.

He quickly shook his head, looking away and blushing a bit from getting caught. "No, no, no- it's fine! You don't have to change. I don't mind." He assured you, not wanting to stop you from wearing them. He was enjoying the view, after all.

"O-okay? So your okay with this?" I said, confusingly. He kinda seems like a pervert right now, but...I don't mind? I kind of like him staring at me...

He nods. "Yeah, I'm completely fine with this." He responded, looking back at your legs again. He couldn't take his eyes off them, they looked so soft and smooth. He wanted to touch them...

He quickly shook the thought from his mind, trying to maintain his composure. He didn't want to get carried away, especially not this early.

I wondered, why is he still here..I need to get ready for the day anyway... "Uh, anything else Mr. Stare?" I teased, smiling softly as I looked at his flustered reaction to my teasing.

Lucifer blushed even more when you teased him for staring at your legs. He couldn't deny that he was enjoying the view, but he didn't expect you to call him out on it. He chuckled, trying to play it off.

"Hey, it's not my fault they look so good." He teased back, his eyes wandering down to your legs again.

I blushed again, as he got me back. "Was that a flirt?" I laughed.

He chuckled, a mischievous look in his eye. "Mayyyybe..." He responded, a sly smile on his face. He leaned a bit closer to you, his eyes still looking down at your legs.

"I mean, how could I not flirt with a pair of legs like that?" He added, his tone a bit more playful now.

"You kinda starting to seem like a pervert..." I joked, wondering why he had so much interest in my legs.

He chuckled again, his smile growing wider. "Guilty as charged." He joked back. He couldn't help but continue to shamelessly look at your legs. They just looked so damn good.

"But can you blame me, really? I mean, have you seen yourself? You're beautiful." He spoke, his eyes finally meeting yours for a moment. He was clearly enjoying this little back and forth.

I felt butteflies in my stomach. "Aww, thank you. You look handsome yourself." I answered back, I just realized were complimenting each other like corny teenagers. I snapped out of that thought when Lucifer spoke up. "Well, I got to go, gotta help Charlie...see you tomorrow for the date?" He asked me, a prideful smile on his face. "Tommorow." I answered back, as he headed towards the door, nodding to my response.

He nodded in response, his smile growing even wider at your agreement to the date. "Perfect. I'll see you tomorrow." He said, his heart fluttering again.

He paused for a moment at the doorway, glancing back at you one more time. "Oh, and wear those short pants again." He teased with a wink before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

I giggled at his last tease. I better start getting ready for the day and get my clothes for tomorrow. I can't believe im going on a date with the King Of Hell...

As Lucifer walked away, he couldn't help but feel excited yet a bit nervous. He had finally asked you out on a date and you had agreed. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time, and now it was actually happening.

He made a mental note to himself to plan something special for tomorrow. He wanted to make sure that it went perfectly, especially since he had no idea how experienced you were with dating.

Meanwhile, I continued getting ready for the day. The nerves and excitement for the upcoming date with Lucifer filling my thoughts.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #Lucifer x Reader #foryou #fyp #The Devil Darling🪽🍎#Chapter 1 #Lucifer Bisexual🪽🍎#Charlie Bisexual🌈⭐

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wrongcaitlyn · 5 months ago

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I’ll go with some of the tame ones and ask 8, 13, 18, 15, 24, 32, and 51 😭

For 8, I currently do pointe ballet, gymnastics, tap, and jazz. I also used to swim for like 10 years but I hated having wet hair so I quit. I also had almost joined field hockey but a conflict in scheduling ended that rather quickly.

For 13, I actually don’t hate anyone at the moment. I personally think it’s a strong word and nobody’s ever made me have to use it. I do apparently have my own hater though! She’s a friend of a friend and finds me annoying or something, I barely even know her though.

For 15, I know you’ve shared that you have a dog, but I honestly just wanted to say that I’m also going to be a proud pet owner since I’m getting 2 dogs and a cat!

For 18, I used to be terrified of any and all spiders. Like even the little tiny ones. One time on the day after Thanksgiving I had seen one while walking into the bathroom to wash my face and I screamed so loud that everyone thought there was an intruder. And then they saw the little red spider on the ground 💀 Howver, my fear of spiders while not as bad over the years would still not convince me to travel to somewhere like Australia unless I have to.

For 24, I know you’re working on college essays so don’t feel pressured to reply to this one lol. I would say that my best subjects are the more creativity based ones. I’d also toss in biology to that mix only because it was by far my favorite class that I’ve taken. I also did well in history (and not to toot my own horn but got a 100 on the final 🎉) but I could not stand my teacher. Like maybe it was because we were usually the first class she saw, but she regularly woke up on the wrong side of the bed when it came to my class.

For 32, my favorite color is lavender and I don’t think that’s changed for several years now, in fact I’ve heard many people say that purple is their least favorite color 😅

For 51, I’ve had an unhealthy obsession with flan for like a few weeks now but thankfully I’ve never been energized enough to actually make it myself so I get it rarely. So this was supposed to only be 3 questions but I had a little too much fun answering and went overboard lol 😭 You definitely don’t have to respond to all of these but hopefully they help distract you a bit!

thank u for the asks!!!

8 - DAMN you do a lot of sports, im like the most unathletic person ever😭 but i used to do gymnastics, ballet, dance, cheer, and basketball, and then quit pretty much all of it in 4th grade when i broke my arm :) do not regret it though!!! im not made to be an athleteKSDF

13 - tbh i dont think so either! at least not people i know irl, i dont think i actually know enough people that i dislike to hate them. im generally not a social person so if i find someone annoying,,, i just dont spend time around them. and if i dont hang out with someone, i dont see why i'd know them well enough to hate them, if u get what i mean? anyway, i try not to waste time hating things, it gets boring

15 - yes i do! and OMG i want a cat so bad,,, maybe one day i'll be able to get one, but for now i'm very happy with my dog <3

18 - AGREED you could never make me move to like arizona or australia,,, i dont think im necessarily scared of spiders in the way that i'll run away from them, but what i AM scared of, is when there's like a small insect or bug or smth and it MOVES. like idc what it is but if out of the corner of my eye i see smth small moving, i'm out of there.

but funny story, once i was in the car in a parking lot, and was like just getting inside - i look down, and there's a spider like the size of my thumb literally crawling up my shirt. i was screaming like a maniac and the guy in the car next to us was like ???? and my mom was also like wtf??? ended up literally throwing my shirt (dont worrry, i was wearing a bra underneath) out of my car to get the spider away from me, it was literally nearly on my neck. i think ive been a bit more frightened by spiders since then just bc like,,, holy fucking shit,,, but i know its not as bad as some arachnophobesSJDF

24 - i actually really dont mind answering this question! though ngl i could just copy and paste one of the college essays i wrote last night, even though that one was a *bit* of a lie. i said computer science, which is pretty true, but i think my strength is even more in just any math subject. i'm going into ap calc bc and ap stats this year and have always been in advanced math! a bit of an odd strength for a fanfic writer i know, but i'm a math nerd deep down. i actually really enjoy it :) and i pretty much barely get by with an a in my other classes, science/english/history have never been my strongsuit... it's really just mathSDFJ

32 - pink! specifically pastel pink, or a sort of like mauve pink? yea, if u could see my room, i have a lot of pink stuff around here. but also mostly, i tend to stick to neutrals, beige/black/white and stuff, idk i actually really like how those lookDSJKF

51 - PASTA. im being very autistic with this answer bc u dont even understand like the extent to which i love pasta. im a very VERY picky eater and so i have three meals that i have on cycle - pasta with parmesan, pasta with meatballs, and pasta with pesto sauce + chicken. i literally eat those every single day for lunch and dinner. since second grade, i've gone to school EVERY day with a pasta with parmesan cheese thermos. like genuinely i do think i am the #1 stan of pasta and i don't think it'll ever changeSDJF

#wrongcaitlyn #wrongcaitlyn asks

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protozoan-pen-and-pigment · 7 months ago

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I've been trawling through a few writing projects recently and came across this one. This was intended as a novelisation of a previously intended comic story, originally called "Spiral" [of which some breakdown sketches can be found here], which fell through after poor mental health robbed me of the proclivity and ability.

Still, I've a way with words, so I'm posting this here in the hope that it may spur me into some kind of activity. It still requires a shit-ton of work; it's very nebulous and I've a lot to figure out, but I hope to summon some creative energy to start putting together something more cohesive.

Just don't hold your breath for it.

But hey, I mocked up quite a nice cover, right?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hey.” The soldier beside him grunted an expletive and continued to snooze.

“Hey, Sarge!” he said again, giving his comrade in arms a nudge with his elbow.

“What is it?” the rudely awoken soldier mumbled, consciousness dragging him begrudgingly into the world of dirt and blood.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asked. His comrade turned to him with gritty, semi-open eyes and regarded him.

“Sixty-seven, I swear, if our reserves weren’t as low as they are, I’d shoot you in the face right now!” he growled. “At least in the stockade I’d get some fuckin’ sleep! You woke me up for that?!” The front line along which they were fighting had fallen into something of a impasse and an uneasy silence had fallen across the battlefield. However uneasy the silence was, it did allow for some to rest and recharge, for whatever calamity was inevitably to follow. Sixty-seven and the rest of the squadron had taken advantage of the area’s geography and dug in behind a tall ridge overlooking the plateau which formed the latest scrub of territory to contest. He regarded Sixty-seven and his expectant, albeit muddied and slightly bloodied, face; he was strangely inquisitive, for a Sigma.

“You mean, like predeterminism?” he asked his irritating conrade. After a moment’s pause, Sixty-seven shrugged a little and nodded, somewhat uncertainly, his features becoming dimly illuminated by the growing dawn twilight of one of Europa IV’s binary suns.

“No.” the other said bluntly. A silence came between them then and he lowered his eyelids, believing this disruption to his rest to be at a terminus.

“How come?” said Sixty-seven, forcing a weary sigh from his comrade. This is the first shut-eye I’ve managed to find in thirty-four rotations and this prick wants to start asking dumb questions. He shot an askew glance at Sixty-seven through narrowed eyes, hoping that he’d get the message that his questions were pissing him off. It was ineffective, of course, as Sigmas such as he and Sixty-seven and the rest of his squad generally aren’t programmed to respond to or even recognise such subtle cues, even though that aspect had slowly started to develop even in Sigmas, during the scant quiet time between sorties. They were made for battle, not socialising; if you want socialising - or what some of the colonists refer to as ‘socialising’ - you go see a Gamma, they’ll give you the best damn socialising of your life - and they won’t even give you the clap!

“I don’t like the idea that I have no say over the events that govern my own life.” he said, and if one were to ask, one would find that’s the general consensus amongst most Sigmas; indeed, amongst most who owe their existences to the labs of Masakado Industrie, the existence of the product of those places were to assist with those who’d come to settle on this brave new frontier, and the others that were springing up in this little corner of the galaxy, as humanity had finally developed the capability to extend its reach beyond their own place of birth, to establish homes elsewhere, or to travel the stars in perpetual exploration.

“I much prefer the notion of 'destiny'.”

“Isn't that the same thing as fate?” Sixty-seven said.

“I don't believe so. To me, a destiny is something I can choose, a decision I can make. Do I go left or right, or make a different choice altogether? Fate makes it seem that I've no say in matters that govern my own life.”

“I can look to a point on the horizon or a point on a map and say 'That's my destiny.' And if I don't find what I'm looking for there, I can choose another path, another destiny and make toward it with the hope that I'll find what I'm looking for there.”

“To be honest, I think you're being far too literal.”

“Pfff, whatever, grunt. You asked, so I answered. Not my fault that it doesn't quite mesh with your own world view!”

“So, what is it that you are looking for?”

“Isn't it obvious? I'm looking for...”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

#protozoan pen and pigment #the one left behind #rough draft #prose #writing #literature #science fiction #work in progress

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misqnon · 9 months ago

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HI im the anon who sent in that ask about one piece the other day and!!! AGHH. im too shy and socially anxious to send a message so sorry for communicating through asks but !!

THANK UU for responding to me !! it makes me so happy when people seem excited to talk to me, and i love hearing about peoples interests, so. i was very happy reading ur reply!!!! also this is probably an even longer message 😭 i cant help it i love to ramble

my history with one piece is long and complicated LMAO so i wont rant about it, but i started watching anime when i was 7 and one piece caught my attention when i was 10 i think, so ive had a lot of time to experience it tbh. but i was never that into it until i read the manga!! if im recommending one piece, i usually recommend the manga because its so much easier to get through imo.

honestly now that im caught up im like.. so afraid for the end of one piece. i never want it to end. i keep hearing that this is the final saga, and that one piece is ending soon, and my brain just. cannot comprehend it. i dont know if its just denial or what but i fully believe it won't end for another 5 years.. i havent experienced enough of the one piece world!!! i need more!! tell me everything about everyone in one piece PLEASE . it cant end . and those thoughts have been plaguing my mind since i restarted it LOL

looking at old forums to see peoples opinions from when each chapter dropped is genius??? i might have to do that.. i want to see their theories. i want to say "you have no idea whats in store...." or admire how smart they are for guessing things correctly

i find it funny that u like sanji cuz i have such complicated feelings around him. like he was my absolute favorite upon first introduction. i loved his kindness, i loved his interactions with gin, and i thought he was cool as hell. he was definitely a positive role model for my very damaged child brain. but i think the pervert joke and him treating women differently has pretty much ruined him for me. when i was younger a part of me felt like it was only right that he treat women better, but im pretty sure i just felt that way bc i hated the experience of being born female so much that the only way i could cope was by taking every and any advantage i could get. and then i figured out i was non binary.. and hes been turned into the most cartoonishly disgusting pervert .. and i see his potential and it just.. UGH!! you could have been so good. anyways all my feelings around him make it a lot more interesting to see u talk about him!! usually i just headcanon him as transfem and that satiates my burning rage and hatred towards him. but seeing sanji likers talk about liking sanji makes me actually like sanji more!! at this rate i might turn back into a sanji fan

im not in any one piece fan spaces but i AM consuming one piece content as often as possible (so all day. i dont have. a job. or school.). i know this is most likely a passing hyperfixation for me but im loving it anyways. i will definitely keep an eye on ur blog bc im sooo excited for when u catch up. im having so much fun theorizing about the end of the story and . and i hope u will too!! eek rant over thanks for listening (metaphorically)

HI ANON!! once again putting this under cut bc i will once again be freely speaking my way too many thoughts about the silly pirate manga. (fair warning. this. this is 2K words. anon im.....so sorry)

you don't have to worry about communicating through asks btw i literally do not care do whatever makes u comfortable my dude <3 and 1. thank YOU for sending a message :^) 2. i am loving the joyous atmosphere we have created ranting at each other back and forth HAHAHA it makes me happy to talk about interests like this as well!! (looks at length of my last reply and this one) clearly. we can think of this as like. electronic pen pals 👍bc i do be basically writing letters here LMAO

yea as u can tell its a little complicated for me too lmao ( i mean. the damn thing has been going on longer than i've been alive, so. it's touched many people in many ways. and it's complicated in its OWN right which. i'll get to. but holy shit 7 is younger than i expected! thats still a pretty long history (though i cant talk bc at age 4 i had a crush on goku even tho i had no idea what was happening half the time i was watching the dbz reruns on tv </3) and YEA. YEA THE MANGA IS. SO MUCH MORE STREAMLINED AND WELL PACED. EVEN THO I MISS THE COLOR AND MOVEMENT AND VOICE ACTING OF THE ANIME it was just takin too long. and i really like oda's art, so...reading the manga lets me look at it better. and there's more care put into the frames. but overall ur right the manga is chefs kiss in comparison to other versions (WHICH ARENT BAD!! JUST...SLOW. and though i think the live action wasnt really NEEDED i did. like it. and it is what got me back into op + got me caught up through east blue a lot faster HAHA)

tbh hearing that its in its last saga made me feel like i got into one piece at a really good time bc if i plan it right i can catch up and then follow along with the release for only a little while until its done. also the live action s2 and the "The One Piece" reanimated anime will be coming soon too. the content saturation is everywhere 👍(showering in it) THOUGH I DO FEEL A BIT PRESSURED LIKE. WHAT IF ONE PIECE FINISHES BEFORE I CATCH UP . which is insane bc im almost to wano (even though i hear wano is really long). and also...i think its been called the final "saga" but idk if that means final ARC you know...kinda like how water 7 and enies lobby kinda blend into one. or impel down and marineford are lumped together. idk i feel like we got a bit more. i just feel like there's so much we havent got answered yet and i dont think oda would just leave that stuff hanging. i know there;s a list out there of things that one piece needs to adress/come back to before it finishes but i havent looked at it bc im afraid of spoilers. however, just in my own mind theres a LOT i know has to happen that we need plenty of time for!! so. i wouldnt be surprised if it WAS 5 more years. i mean like...shanks needs to happen. i think zoro and sanji are gonna have a battle at some point (based on stuff ive seen from wano. im assuming) they gotta see laboon again. gotta revisit shirahoshi's situation. gotta see the dreams come true of each crewmate. tie off loose ends of side characters like tashigi and koby and the warlords. yanno

the "you have no idea what's in store.." is literally my exact emotions . i havent done it for this fandom YET but i plan to go to forums reading over ppl's theories like this

slash seeing how they react and getting giddy about it bc i like seeing how people react to shit. esp if they're shocked or enthusiastic about it like i usually am

about sanji. okay. listen. listen here. i. hate sanji. JNFNVFKDNL

no but actually no matter how complicated someone's feelings are towards sanji i promise you for sanji likers they are probably 100x more complicated unless they're weird dudebros who think he's cool (which he is but only like 10% of the time and not when he's being a chauvinistic ass)

one thing about me is that i. hate doing things that are distasteful or offensive in any capacity and that extends to the media i consume in that i dont like consuming media that is excessively problematic. i understand nuance so like OBVIOUSLY nothing is perfect and everything has problematic elements - but for a lot of shows there's one too many things on one side of the scale and i just dont like having that guilt on my shoulders consuming it. one piece fits that category but it's also SO BIG and SO LONG and its been going on for a WHILE and is such a phenomenon that i can let SOME stuff "slide"...and also realize "bitch one piece is so popular and near its end at this point that you, a single tumblr user, liking it or not liking it is not going to make a difference" and i'm (still) trying to make peace with that. things like oda's passive racism, The Entirety of Kamabakka Kingdom (literally don't even get me started), his blatant sexism in universe and his own opinions in the SBS...i've just come to realize i need to consume my media critically but still let myself have fun. im going through a rough period in life and this happens to be what my brain hyperfixated on and i cant change that so might as well have this outlet. ive made a lot of friends and am really enjoying the story for its good parts (found family, anti government and anti authoritarianism, importance of dreams and ambition and self love, the importance of mental health and trauma and how your past doesnt define you...etc)

i extend a lot of this thinking to sanji, too. to be fair i dont remember why he became my favorite. i think he was my fav when i watched it all those years ago but he wasnt a BIG FAV or anything. watching film red and the opla i think i went into it remembering he was my fav and he just stayed that way, but then i watched more and really started to like him for reasons like 1. im weak to flirtatious characters in general 2. im also weak to blonde men 😔 3. he's an asshole with a kind heart and i love a good juxtaposition 4. he just has some really cool badass moments tbh 5. and he's a LOT. i love characters that are a lot. he's loud and messy and overreactive and prissy and insecure and self sacrificing and also just SECRETLY ONE OF THE KINDEST MOST COMPASSIONATE MEMBERS OF THE CREW? notice how none of these have to do with his pervert shtick lmao

i do actually like his woman thing to an extent, i think its cute when its just him having heart eyes at every woman he sees and being weak to literally any woman who looks at him- cause that's still putting women on a pedestal, but its a fairly harmless character flaw for a fictional character to have. pre-timeskip sanji is a gift for all these reasons. and like, thats when everyone fell in love w his character i think. i MIGHT even forgive his whole "i wont hit a woman" thing bc its not like he doesnt think women shouldnt be hit in general to such an extent (i dont think he ever opposes to anyone else doing it on the crew, HE just doesnt like doing it PERSONALLY bc its his own moral principle he wont break just like the whole wont fight with his hands thing) even if the whole thing stems from the sexist belief women are lesser/weaker (esp after his backstory reveals some stuff)

but the pervert shtick? and the WRITING HIM AS TRANSPHOBIC/HOMOPHOBIC THING?? yea i literally hate that part of his character so much and wish it wasnt added. like i see how it relates to the character oda has decided sanji is but i still dont think it was needed. or okay. lol. i dont think any sanji fan actually likes this part of him. somedays i look at myself in the mirror and i'm like "am i fangirling over a more conventionally attractive bnha mineta rn" and i put on my clown makeup

but he's more than that. for all the reasons i listed above. and the BIGGEST thing that keeps me sane as a Sanji Liker (tm) is the fact that i 100% see half of his shitty character traits as something that are a product of Oda, the author, influencing his own work. im not gonna lie that canonly he still gave sanji those traits so yea like as a trans (? still working on that) GNC bisexual woman my favorite character atm is this weird little guy who's kinda chauvinistic and also canonly a homophobe (...at least, to an extent, bc apparently he has a really good relationship with iva? again, i could write an essay on just the queer rep as well) and thats a little embarrassing but. alas. i already fell in love with the character. and if you consider the writing is done by a dude who's got his own issues and just take the character for what he is...i do still rlly enjoy the idiot. and TRUST ME, i will headcanon him as a repressed bisexual who's probably GNC or a little trans or AT LEAST likes to do drag bc c'mon now. oda PUT ALL THAT IN CANON...AND EXPECTS US NOT TO PLAY WITH IT? you could make a compelling argument that he's 1000% straight and cis and kamabakka was a fluke that he resents but i think you could just as easily interpret it the other way. or just say fuck word of god i'm gonna enjoy this character the way i want (draws sanji in a dress for the millionth time bc i can and it makes me feel better. and once again HE WORE ONE IN CANON...AND WAS SMILING ABOUT IT, FOR A WHILE. IDK IDK CALL ME CRAZY) tldr; sanji is fucked but the worst parts are a product of oda himself and i like the character for other reasons and purposely try to consume him very critically for those reasons bc i do still really like him. like. hes my #1 fav character atm unfortunately. but he's nice in a lot of other ways 🥲

SORRY FOR THAT I TALKED WAYYY TOO MUCH!!!! but i enjoyed it so thanks for the opportunity :') im glad ur vibing with op and we're both enjoying this silly little show. tbh half the reason im trying to read it so fast (and why i read WCI early) is bc i was scared my hyperfixation wouldnt last long enough to finish the series BWAHAHA. here's to hoping we both get to see it end and enjoy the journey that comes with that!

#i cant believe i wrote 2k words . i should be embarrassed but im honestly a little impressed.#'hey mont why do you like one piece' [2k word essay defending myself against imaginary haters]#anon if you were worried you were talking too much dw i got you. i'll just talk WAYYY MORE to make u feel better 👍/hj #microphone effect #one piece #sanji #yea i'll put this in the tag #talked too much to only have one person see it #asks #replies #not to be That Person but i basically had a WGS minor in college (i was one class off) and trust me i'm analyzing the Fuck out of oda's #biased writing.#march anon

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bellafragolina · 2 years ago

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I just found your blog and Ive been binge reading the whole thing this entire weekend. I love how you write Ingo and Emmet! and if I may humbly request a drabble about Warden Ingo x a motherly reader who fell through the Rift into Hisui. She dotes on all the village kids, always worrying over Lain and Rei, and is always cooing and fussing over her pokemon.

And the moment she’s introduced to Warden Ingo she just-immediately starts fussing over him. Poor man doesn’t even get out a hello before she’s asking if he is alright, what happened to his coat, when was the last time he slept, etc etc. From then on she’s always making a point to check in on him to make sure his taking care of himself and offers to mend his coat if his alright with her trying to fix it. Just smothers him in affection.

thanks for reading this and hope you have a good day!- Sweetea Anon

Aww! Motherly characters are the best! Very very good!! And thank you!! I’m glad you’re enjoying what I got so far

🍓🍓🍓

Hisui is a dangerous world, and you’ll be damned if the Galaxy Team sends out children with no support. Hell, you’ll be damned if the clans make children wardens without any time to be simply children. You put your mom jeans on (or perhaps just mom pants as denim has yet to be invented) and storm after the kids, Kamado be damned

All the kiddos love you. Akari and Rei lean heavily on you when things grow to be too much. It’s a lot of pressure to withstand, so you always offer them a place to rest their heads and cry their tears without judgement. You feed them too, bandage their wounds, kissing them so they heal faster. Neither really believe the superstition, but their injuries always seem to ache more without your kisses.

Sabi and Lian similarly rely on you. Your visits to their stations are always met with cheers. As much as Lian tries to act grown up, he’s still a young boy, and he often joins Sabi in barreling your over with hugs. The two love you, love that you listen to their rambles and indulge their wants to play. You wrestle them and play pretend so well, always kissing their heads and saying how proud you are of them. It means more to them than you realize

Ingo sees this, before you properly meet. He lingers on the outskirts of your interactions with the children, warmed by how attached to you and your care they seem. When you’re finally introduced by Rei and Akari, Ingo tips his hat to you. You respond by immediately fluttering over and fussing over the bags that hang below his eyes. Ingo flusters from the care, and the kids only laugh as you guide him to your abode for a warm meal and a good night’s sleep

From there, your relation blossoms. You make it your mission to take care of him, and though Ingo worries about you traveling all the way to the Highlands for him, he has to admit he melts at your softest touch. He’s been very alone at his station, so you coming in with your warmth and gentleness, it soothes the ache that seems to never leave Ingo’s heart. He’s quick to grow attached to you, your cooking especially, since his own skills are a little lacking in that area. In return, he finds you rare materials you need, bringing them to you with doed eyes

Every time you visit, before you leave, Ingo takes your hand in his weathered palms, and presses a firm kiss to the valley of your knuckles. His lips are chapped but warm as well, and never fail to make you shudder as they brush the sensitive skin. It makes you ache, a want to kiss him back buried deep within your heart. When the need grows to be too much, you dive foreword, sealing your lips together as he rises from your hand

Ingo jolts, but eagerly leans into you. Finally, he thinks to himself. Now his daydreams of having a family with you don’t feel so shameful

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo is definitely the guy that daydreams about having kids with his crush. Wants to be a dad so bad

~Renee

#warden ingo x reader #ingo x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #submas x reader

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years ago

Text

EIGHTEEN, CRAZY (part II/?)

"Concerning Dates And Rumors I"

Summary: With her highschool experience coming to an end, Y/n finally grows tired of her parents' long lasting effort to make her the perfect girl; if they refuse to let her live her best life, she'll make them live their worst— and what can possibly be worse than having your lovely daughter mingling with Eddie Munson?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Genre: mostly fluff/fake dating

Tags:

Eighteen, crazy: —

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, mentions of drugs

A/N: I'm churning out parts for this fic like it's nobody's business 💀 send help to this poor unhinged woman. Anyways, enjoy <3

Prologue Part I Part III part IV

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Okay," Eddie climbed into his van, where I was already waiting for him, sat in the passenger seat. "step one out of the way."

The path we had just gone across, comprising the relatively short distance from my locker to the parking lot, had been one of the most awkward situations I had ever lived.

By the looks we had received, either those who had witnessed Eddie climb up my table had spread the word faster than lightning, or the mere idea of me mingling with certain outcast was... collectively judged to be unfathomable.

Eddie phewed, giving his head a brief shake whilst starting the vehicle. "You know, I thought I was used to people looking at me funny, but damn was that intense."

"Yeah, that was absolutely no fun." I mumbled, begging my mind to free my body from the tension cramping up my muscles.

Once my belt was buckled, I gave Eddie the green light to pull out, which he did.

It took us a hot minute to break the silence —a painfully tense hot minute, may I say.

"How did I do?" Eddie's dark eyes carefully danced between me and the boring road. "Asking you out, I mean."

"Oh, amazing!" I replied with enthusiasm, eager to keep any kind of conversation going before returning to the silent awkwardness. "You exceeded my expectations, to be honest."

"I don't think I've ever exceeded anyone's expectations." He commented with a laugh. "Not in a good way, at least." After those words, a sudden way of worry seemed to cloud his gaze, forming a frown on it. "Wait- it was in a good way, right?"

"In a good way, yeah." I couldn't help but laugh at the immediate relief that took over him, tilting my head to the side.

We spent the remaining stretch left to drive alternating between chitchatting and silence, filled only with the directions I gave him. Soon enough, Eddie found himself abruptly pulling up his van before the house I had signaled as my own.

He whistled, looking out of the window in amazement. "Now, that's a house." He then turned to me, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. "Do you want me to walk you to the door or something?"

I bent forward, trying in vain to discern whether my mother waited for me by the window or not. "Not today." I shook my head in the negative, unbuckling my belt. "Gotta build up the suspense before the grand reveal." I explained, opening the door.

"Shit, Y/l/n." A surprised chuckle escaped Eddie's mouth "You'd be one hell of a writer."

"Why, thank you." He dismissed me with a wave of his hand while I got off the vehicle. Whispering a quick 'thanks for the lift' —as if I hadn't agreed on paying him for it, amongst other things—, I shut the door and, with my backpack hanging from my shoulder, I circled the van in order to rush home, only for Eddie to shout out my name.

"Y/n!" I spun around, retracing my steps until I reached the driver's window, now rolled down. "You forgot about the date thingy."

Shit.

Before I could open my mouth, Eddie himself spoke. "Arcade. I'll pick you up at 8."

"My curfew is at 8:30." I halfheartedly responded out of habit, completely forgetting that following my curfew —or rather my parents' curfew— defeated the whole purpose of my scheme.

"Even better." Eddie limited himself to respond with a troublesome tone. "later!"

With that, and after rolling up the window, he recklessly maneuvered his way out of the suburban street, and I was left at the start of the front sidewalk leading to my house, finally taking in what I had gotten myself into for the sole reason of angering my parents.

Was I actually going on a fake date with Eddie Munson past my curfew? Where did my self preservation instinct go? I didn't even hang out at my friends' places past my curfew.

I tightened the grip on the backpack's strap as I made my way to the front door with a weird feeling growing in my chest.

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

I preened in front of my mirror, trying to grasp a single thought without it entangling with another dozen.

Was this a date look? Was the lipstick too much? Should I take a jacket? Should I wait at the door? How do I greet him? Gosh, calling the situation stressful would be an understatement —and it wasn't even a real date.

My heart pounded —with... Fear? Anticipation? Anxiety? Excitement?—, threatening to leave my chest while I gave my look the final touches. Was it too late to call the whole thing off? My life wasn't all that bad; maybe a bit dull, yes, but not bad.

Thinking about it, I had made it to senior year without going through the whole high school experience, and I wasn't exactly mad about it. Why did I have to flip the switch now?

My hands had a barely noticeable shake to them while I put on my earrings.

The lipstick was too much. Wait, no, it looked good. I peeked at the alarm clock in my nightstand; 8:23.

I moved to my wardrobe to pull out a jacket, only to throw it onto the bed once I opened the window and noticed it was still hot outside.

A quick look at the mirror from the windowsill; fuck, the lipstick was definitely too much.

8:28. No time to remove it, but plenty to grab the jacket again.

No. no jacket, maybe a different shirt—

Ding-dong!

"Fuck!" Taking my handbag, I ran out of the room, practically leaping downstairs, but I was still not fast enough to the door.

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

How did I even end up in this situation? I thought to myself, driving the van to the same fancy house I had stopped by in the afternoon.

Ah, yes, because I was fucking stupid. Zero impulse control. I had found it utterly hilarious that someone like Y/n Y/l/n had willingly asked me to drag her reputation through the dirt, and then she had added money to the equation.

Even then a part of me knew that this wasn't a situation I would want to find myself into. So, what the fuck was I doing?

I stopped the van by her place and pondered what my options were. Getting out and ringing the bell, praying for her to open the door; waiting outside until 8:30 for her to exit the house; honking.

Ugh, no.

With a groan, I got out of the van, taking the keys with me. I didn't walk towards the front door just yet. In all honesty, I wasn't exactly eager to enter that kind of house, nor to make any contact with the kind of people you'd find there.

My eyes landed on my wristwatch; 8:26.

"C'mon..." I muttered, tapping my heel on the sidewalk.

The sound of a window opening made my gaze shot up at the second story. Y/n's appearance was a flash, too quick for me to call out for her.

8:29.

"Okay, fuck it." I pushed myself off the side of the van and strolled to the entrance, gathering as much courage as I could before ringing the bell.

Ding-dong!

Fuck, that was loud.

Soon enough the door was open. To my dismay, not by Y/n.

"Oh. Uhh, good evening—" I began, trying to brush off the way the short woman who had opened the door bore holes into my form.

"Who are you? And what do you want."

"Eddie!"

Never in my life would it have occurred to me that I would ever be thankful to see someone like Y/n Y/l/n at any point; yet, there I was, a relieved smile growing on my face while a visibly distressed Y/n sprinted down the stairs.

"Aunt Mary, this is Eddie. Eddie, aunt Mary. I'm going out, byee!" Words spilled from her mouth faster than I thought possible while she pushed her so-called aunt Mary aside and took my hand, stalking to the van with the woman yelling for niece to come back inside. "Openthevanopenthe vanopenthevan!" Y/n rushed me, only letting go of my hand to run around our ride.

"Okayokayokay!" I did as I was told, just in time for her to open the passenger's door. "Fucking—" I cursed, mimicking her movements in order to start the engine as soon as possible and rush off. "I thought I was meant to scare them!" I recalled, trying to calm my nerves as we drove to the arcade. "Not the other way around!"

"Aunt Mary's... A scary woman." Y/n noted, accommodating herself before pulling down the sun visor. "I forgot she was home."

I was about to ask how could she even forget someone was at her place, but then again, her house seemed as big as the trailer park.

I puffed, leaning back on my seat, stress leaving my body. Finally able to relax, I took a moment to steal a glance at Y/n, who seemed to be checking her makeup in the vanity mirror with distress.

"What's wrong?"

She winced, scrunching her nose. "The lipstick."

"What's with the lipstick?" I inquired, double checking her frame just as she rotated to face me.

Holy shit.

"I like it."

As soon as I made that comment, I limited myself to stare at the road, refusing to accept the fact that she had knocked the air out of my lungs.

"Isn't it too much?" I nonchalantly shook my head no, thanking the universe for getting us safely to the arcade, because it surely wasn't thanks to me paying attention to the road.

"I think it looks good." I reassured her, deciding to exit the van without sparing my fake date another look just yet.

"I guess I'm just not used to wearing this shade." She followed my lead; this time, it was me who had to circle our mean of transport, and by god that I wasn't ready to see how beautiful she looked.

"Wow, okay," I cleared my throat, trying to be as casual as possible about it. "You look great."

"I tried. Gotta make it believable, huh?" She smoothed her shirt before letting her eyes roam my figure. "You look really good too."

"I put on my best vest for this." I joked, offering her a hand, which she instantly took, before leading her into the arcade room. "I hope you're ready to see some friends of yours here."

"Oh, I am." She snorted, falling into step with me. "Are you?"

"I better be." I clicked my tongue, tilting my head to the side with a scorn as we ventured into Y/n's second step of the plan. "This is gonna earn me a lot of shit."

Three Days Later

READER'S P. O. V.

"Soooo," Linda leaned against the lockers, dragging the 'o' with curious eyes. "How was it?"

"Uh..." I shrugged, shutting the door after picking up my English books. "Fun? for the most part." I began walking, thinking Linda would follow my lead, but soon enough I found myself turning back to see her still against the lockers, lips pursed in a tight line. "Why the face?"

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, tilting her head to the side in suspicion before pushing herself off her resting place. "Are you two, like, actually dating?"

I took a subtle look around before giving my best friend a nearly unnoticeable shake of my head. "Why?"

"There's a rumor running around already." She whispered, coming to me so I could resume my walk, this time with her. "I think Carol started it, but I wouldn't bet on it." Linda leaned on, keeping her eyes ahead of us, as if whatever she was about to say was forbidden. "Friday night. You and Munson. Kissing at the Arcade."

I was about to laugh and deny the lie when someone appeared in my peripheral vision, pushing Linda and me away to make room.

"Wouldn't you love to know what I heard." George singsonged with amusement.

"Surprise me."

"Rumor has it, you were stoned at the Arcade."

I came to a halt, causing both my friends to leave my behind for a second. "Excuse me?" I tried not to sound outraged, but it turned out to be a difficult task. "I would never do that willingly."

"There's another version that implies... exactly that." George hinted, making me go livid. I had certainly underestimated the gravity of the rumors that could go around.

"Are we talking about the rumors going around?" Lizzy inquired, walking to us from the Library's entrance. " 'Cause I got a good one."

"Enlighten me, please." I seethed, tightening the grip on my books.

"Did Eddie punch Lewenski?" There was certain anticipation in Liz's tone, almost like she hoped for it to be true.

"No. Why the hell would he punch—" my heart skipped a beat at the memory, and I made a mental note to check on Eddie as soon as possible. "Listen, you're gonna start hearing wild things about... This, so just remember, nothing is true until I confirm it. Understood?"

"What was that halt, though?" George questioned.

"What halt?"

"The 'why would he punch' halt." The boy tilted his head down, eyes staring at me with brows rised.

"He didn't punch anyone," I declared, pointing a menacing finger at every one of my friends. "let's get that out of the way."

The three of them stared at me in silence, with expectant eyes.

"Are you gonna tell us what really happened or...?"

I took a deep breath, my mind buzzing with both thoughts and memories. "Let's just—" I puffed, moving forward to lead our walk. "Let's just go to class."

"But what about—"

"At lunch, okay?" I nearly begged, rushing to our English classroom, as if there weren't at least ten minutes left for the lesson.

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technowoah · 4 years ago

Note

if you're taking asks for the prompts, can you do 11 and 17 from the angst list with george but have a fluffy ending? she/her pronouns pls

I Can Make It Right

SHSJS I HAVE SO MUCH ANGST IN MY INBOX YALL!

Thanks for the request babe! The way it came out was gender neutral i dont think I user she/her, but it still works trust me!

George x reader imagine (established)

11) "It's not important apparently"

17) "You already made me feel like shit so might as well finish me off"

⚠︎ angst with happy ending, unresolved issue but they're gonna fix it dont worry 😌, angry George, swearing

*** = flashback

Masterlist

You had stood infront of your bathroom mirror finishing up your makeup for the night. Your hair was already done and you had a nice outfit on, not to fancy and not too comfortable. While listening to a playlist George had made for you, you had put down the brushes you were using. It didnt really matter if you cleaned up your makeup that was littered all over the sink right now, but right now you were feeling good.

Today was your and George's 3rd year anniversary and you couldn't be happier about it. Today you two were going to dinner and doing something else which was supposed to be a surprise for you. It was a night on the town.

George and you met 4 years ago actually. You two started out as acquaintances, the slowly grew into friends and then one day he asked you to join him to dinner. At first you were oblivious to his actions, thinking he was just being a good friend, but turns out the more dates you two went on the more you caught on. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend 3 years ago today.

His friends keep on pressuring George to propose already, they think it's been long enough. The only thing close to marriage is a promise ring. He put the ring on your finger as a promise that one day he would marry you, everytime you doubt that he will propose you turn your attention to the cute ring on your finger.

You had turned off the bedroom lights and sat on your bed finally relaxing after struggling to find a decent enough outfit for tonight. George said that he was going to pick you up around 6:00 and now it is 5:47 so you had some time to spare.

You had found yourself scrolling through tiktok because you had nothing else better to do at this moment. It was a guilty pleasure of yours even though you and george both joked around about hating tiktok.

Time began to tick away so you had checked the clock on your phone which said 5:57 pm. You had grabbed shoes that you set up against your bed, slipped them on and grabbed all of your belongings for the night. You stationed yourself in the living room waiting till George came to the door.

Nervousness always came up before a date, it was the anticipation actually. You were excited and nervous about the date as you always were, but today for you was special. It was three years worth of beautiful love. You remembered the time he first said I love you too, it was just like it was yesterday.

***

"Hey y/n." George looked towards you. You both were sitting on a plaid, plush blanket with a brown woven basket ontop in between you two. It was just like the movies and that why you cringed because of how cheesy it was when George led you to it.

It was sweet, it was extremely sweet and you loved these dates that George always brung you too. You always felt special when you are sitting next to him.

You responded to George. "Yeah Gogy?" You laughed at the use of his nickname.

"Im trying to be serious right now and you call me Gogy." George smiled and shook his head. "Anyways, you know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do-"

"No I love you. I mean. I'm in love with you." George reached to rest his hand ontop of yours and repeated himself. "I'm in live with you y/n."

You wasted no time answering. "Im in love with you too."

***

6:03

George didnt show up yet, but there was no sweat. He was only 3 minutes late, maybe he ran into traffick. Your stomach was rumbling, but you didnt want to eat yet since you two we're planning to go to dinner. Patience is key, and it wasnt like he wasn't late before.

6:10

You started to get worried, it's been 10 minutes and still no sign of your boyfriend. You had gotton up several times to check outside of your door only to be met with no one. Your mind was jumping to conclusions about if he forgot your anniversary, but you shut those thoughts out for the time being.

6:19

Okay this is getting out of hand. You brung out our phone and began to text George, you couldn't believe that you had waited this long before texting the man.

Where are you? Ive been waiting for 29 minutes?!

[Sent: 6:20pm]

George what are you doing?

[Sent: 6:20pm]

You awaited his text message with your phone faced up on the coffee table infront of you. You didn't want to believe that George woukd forget, or overslept, but that was becoming truth the more minutes passed by with no call or text.

6:30

Calling him was useless, because he didn't answer. He didn't hang up on you he just wasn't picking up the phone, like he turned it off. You started to get worried if something happened to him, if he was in a situation where he couldn't call or text you. You wondered if he was safe at home and not out in the middle of the street.

In a flash all your worries subsided when your phone lit up with a notification.

ThisIsNotGeorgeNotFound is live:

Im Playing golf with my friends

That son of a bitch. Pissed off was an understatement, you were fuming. How could he end up streaming at home when you had constantly reminded him about this day, he knew damn well about this day too. How could he?

You ended up grabbing a jacket and your purse and ended up driving to George's place. It seemed like he was mocking you in a way, he knew you had notifications on for Twitch. You loved to support him and his career, but this was making a fool out of yourself.

Your hand tightly gripped the steering wheel as you tried not to run every red light you cane across. You finally came across George's home, you found a place to park and quickly got out of your car and sped walked your way to George's residence. Finally making up to George's door you knocked harshly on the door probably making more noise than what you intended too. You continuously banged on his door until you got fed up.

Remembering that George had given you a key to his house you dig through your purse to get your set of keys out anr unlock his door. You stomped inside his house and closed the door behind you.

"GEORGE! GEORGE!" You yelled through the house. You were being reckless and annoying, but you didnt care at this point you were fuming and needed to tell George how you feel.

You had made your way to George's recording room where he was talking to his friends on discord. George looked towards you in shock clearly not hearing the sounds you were making throughout his house.

"Y/N?!" George yelled and muted his microphone.

"What the hell are you doing?" You exclaimed back.

"Im streaming thats what Im doing!" George sassed back at you, not paying attention to his screen and the chat.

"Dont get smart with me. End the stream."

"What?! No!"

"You heard me, we need to talk." You crossed your arms across your chest. Your heart was beating too fast for your liking and you tried to calm yourself down, but George's comments were getting to you.

George was about to unmute himself and get back to the game. "No we dont-"

"GEORGE END THE FUCKING STREAM! This is embarrassing! Talk to me cause you have some explaining to do." You snapped at him.

A silence tell upon you two and he glared at you before turning to his stream and closing it out.

"Okay guys! Go watch the other boys streams I need to go now! Bye!" George quickly ended and turned off everything.

He turned around to you still sitting in his chair. "What? What do you want?"

"Do you know what today is?" You asked.

"April 30th." George answered bluntly.

"Thats all you have to say?" You asked in shock. "It's our anniversary dickhead!"

"I fucking know that." George said.

"You do? So why did you start streaming and we had dinner plans?!"

"I told you we were streaming! You weren't listening to me!" George stood up from his chair when he said that.

"When the fuck did you tell me this?!"

"A couple days ago! You didn't listen!"

"But you knew that was our anniversary! And we made dinnerr plans-"

George yelled over you. "A month ago! We made those plans a month ago so excuse me for forgetting!"

"So all these other years you remembered our anniversary and went out of your fucking way to cancel other plans around that date, but today you didnt because why?!" Tears were threatening to fall down you cheeks, but you wouldnt let him see you like that.

"Because I planned this already with the boys! And AGAIN you werent listening to me when I said that-"

"There were several other times that you could've told me too! But you didn't!" You sniffed trying to keep the frustrated tears inside.

"I already planned this and I cant go back on my promise-"

"But you can with me?!" You yelled and George stopped talking. He's just studying your face at this point and you hated this silence.

"Its not important apparently." You said while walking out of the recording room.

"You're being a bitch." He mumbled.

"Excuse me?! That is so disrespectful!" You spun around yelled at him.

"You already made me feel like shit so might as well finish me off." George said in a annoying tone.

"Yeah you should feel like shit! I feel like shit too so-!" You threw your hands up in exasperation and stormed out the room. You had made it to the door before George called out to you again.

"Y/n! Y/n! Please!"

"No! Just..." You paused before opening the door and ushering your way out. "Call me when you get your shit together.

You were currently curled up on your couch eating leftovers that you had in the refrigerator. That had satisfied your hunger for the night because the dinner was canceled that night. Your anger and sadness had subsided and you were only left with an unusual feeling in your heart. Your relationship felt incomplete, this fight felt incomplete. You didnt break up with him, but you were waiting for closure.

The TV was the only light in the room. It illuminated what it wanted to, you didnt care if it was too dark. Usually you would be cuddled up with George at this ungoldy hour, but you weren't and that made you tear up.

Your sadness was still there, your anger towards George turned into pity. You were sad about the actions he took, but somewhere in your heart you could forgive him. You could forgive and move on if he would come to you.

Speaking of, you had a knock on your door. You didn't have the strength to get up, but you did. Shuffling your way to the door you sluggishly opened it to find George standing there with his hands in his hoodie. The person you wanted to see, but at the same time you wanted to slam that door in his face.

"Hey." George spoke and you gave him a small smile, nothing more.

You turned around to find your seat back on the couch where you were comfortable, but also giving him a silent invitation to come inside. You had sat down on the couch not paying attention to George, but you knew he closed the door, took off his shoes by yours, and put his keys on the table by the door like he always did. It was like a routine to him.

George ended up awkwardly standing beside the couch as you ignored him.

"You know, if you didnt open the door I would've used my keys like you did." George tried to spark up a conversation, but you only hummed in response. You were scared that if you spoke, you would cry.

George ended up making his way to the couch sitting beside you and pulling you into his embrace. Your head was on his chest and you began to sob. You missed this it's only been a few hours, but you had felt that in those few hours you had lost everything. You continued to sob into his hoodie as he rubbed your back and shushed you, whispering sweet nothings into the air only for you to hear.

"Im here, and Im sorry. Im so fucking sorry that I did this to you and I only hope that you can forgive me." George said, his voice cracking a little when he said that. You kept crying.

That's what you wanted to hear all along, that's what you needed. You could forgive him in due time, you always will because you love him, you will always love him. You both can always make it right.

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mochegato · 3 years ago

Text

Heroic Deeds

Thanks to @boldlyanxious and @ive-fallen-down-the-rabbithole for the idea

Marinette was going to kill her roommate. Because that’s why she was in this situation in the first place, her roommate was too busy to pick up his own damn paperwork. And she was just too “nice” to say no. And puppy dog eyes should be illegal. In fact, that was the next house rule. No puppy dog eyes. She has never in her life been able to say no to puppy dog eyes and mean it. Manon, Etta, Ella, Adrien… no more! Hence forth they were banned. It was already a rule with the kwami. It would just have to be instituted as a rule with humans as well.

But until then, she had to deal with this ridiculousness. This thief that sounded like he was bored out of his mind, like she was inconveniencing him by being held hostage. Is it too much to ask for him to be more invested in this than she is? I mean, she may be the one with the gun pointed at her, but he’s the one that’s pointing it and he’s the one that broke into the office to steal whatever documents he was halfheartedly looking for during the day instead of at night when NOBODY WOULD BE THERE.

But noooo, this jackass had to do it during the day and at the exact moment when she would be there. Really, what was her luck? Was this punishment for not wearing Tikki constantly anymore? She was only supposed to be in this office for a total of a whole ninety seconds. Walk in, grab the documents that were supposed to be ready and waiting for her, and walk out. But instead she was stuck here critiquing this idiot’s ransacking skills, because that ninety seconds is exactly when this blasé thief decided to strike.

At least Kate was safe, she huffed to herself. Kate had been lucky enough to have gone to the backroom for the documents just a few seconds before Idiot Man came in. Hopefully, she had escaped through the backdoor and had contacted the police already. Because apparently Kate hadn’t pissed off the kwami of luck like Marinette somehow had. She and Tikki were going to have a very long, very hissy discussion when she got back home.

And this guy wasn’t. Even. Paying. Attention. To. Her. The gun was pointed in her general direction, but it was like she was the furthest thing from his mind, like she held the same threat level as a kitten. But that was his mistake, underestimating her, because this kitten had claws. God, she’s been hanging out with Adrien too much. She’s beginning to think like him. She let out a breath and banged her head against the back of the chair she was sitting in out of frustration and disappointment in herself.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he was ignoring her to focus on his search, but he wasn’t really paying attention to that either. She would think he was high on something if there were any other signs of it. No, this just was just bored, like he was wasting time, waiting for the police to show up. Maybe it’s the ski mask he was wearing that was annoying him. Who wears a ski mask in the summer? And… did he just check his phone! Oh, Hell no! That was the final straw.

She moved before she could overthink it, sliding over the desk she had moved behind when he came in. She plowed into his chest with both feet, catching him completely off guard and knocking him back into the filing cabinet.

“Hey, get off me!” he yelled, sounding more affronted than worried.

She twisted around and kicked the gun out of his hand with one leg, following it up with a punch that would have broken his nose if he hadn’t blocked it with his forearm, redirecting her hit. She stopped her momentum before breaking her hand on the filing cabinet. She pulled her arm back instead striking her elbow directly into his cheek.

“What the fuck!” he yelled, holding his cheek and looking up at her like she was crazy.

He reached for his gun, but she kicked his arm and raced for it herself, kicking it under a nearby cabinet. “That was my gun!” he gritted out, rounding on her. At least he finally looked invested in this.

“I noticed,” she smirked at him, delivering a roundhouse kick to the face. He dodged at the last second and shoved her leg, changing her momentum and sending her flying toward the edge of the table. She squeezed her eyes shut as she braced herself for the impact. If she timed this right, she could use the table as a springboard to go back at him. The table was solidly built from thick, heavy wood and metal. It had to weigh several hundred pounds. It would be able to take her weight without moving even a centimeter. She took a breath to prepare, but the impact was significantly softer than she had anticipated and didn’t give her the bounce back she expected, causing her to end up sprawled on the floor instead of springing back at the thief.

Before she had even registered what happened, she heard a grunt in front of her and the sound of the table scraping against the floor as it moved. She looked up to a red helmet looking back at her. Her eyes flicked down quickly to his chest as if she needed the confirmation the bright red bat there gave her. He stood up quickly, rubbing his shoulder as he approached her. He knelt down in front of her. “You okay?” His voice was considerably softer than she would have anticipated from the vigilante considered to be the most dangerous of the bats.

She stared at him for a few seconds, shocked by the tone and to see him there in the first place. She had been expecting the police not a bat. It was daytime, everyone knew they didn’t come out during the day. The bat signal didn’t work during the day. “Miss,” he tried again, his voice taking on a concerned edge.

“Oh! Yes. Yeah. I’m fine.” She nodded rapidly and reached down to rub her leg where the thief had pushed her, more to relieve anxiety than because it actually hurt.

“You’re hurt.” It was a comment, not a question.

“It’s okay, really,” she tried to assure him, but he was already up and stalking toward the thief who had started edging toward the door. Marinette mentally scoffed at his stupidity. She understood underestimating her, she was an unknown and looked tiny. But Red Hood was a known entity. His threat level was well established. Why on Earth wouldn’t the thief have run as soon as he appeared?

“Hood…” he started nervously, holding up his hands as though trying to placate him.

Whatever other argument he was going to try to make died on his lips as Hood picked him up and threw him through the large, plate glass, front window. He stood at the window for a few seconds, watching the thief run away. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned back to her. “How badly are you hurt?” He approached her slowly. He rolled his shoulder a few times, almost imperceptibly. If she hadn’t been familiar with trying to hide an injury, she might have missed it.

Marinette smiled at him. “I’m not. Are you? Did I hurt your shoulder when I slammed into you?”

“Are you sure?” He stopped a respectable distance from her. He seemed to eye her leg suspiciously, but backed off questioning it. “I mean emotionally too. An incident like that can be stressful for some people.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Please, that wasn’t stressful. That was annoying. And you didn’t answer my question. How is your shoulder?”

Red Hood paused for a few seconds watching her. “It’s fine. You weren’t afraid?”

Marinette scoffed. “No. The most stressful part of this is I’m supposed to be picking up some important documents for my roommate and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get them now.”

“If you didn’t feel afraid of what he would do, why did you attack him? You could have provoked him into doing something he wasn’t going to do before,” he gently chided her.

Marinette let out an annoyed sigh. “You sound like my roommate.”

“Sounds like a wise man. Why didn't you listen?” He cocked his head to the side.

She mumbled something into her feet, not making eye contact with him.

He arched his head closer to her. “What was that?” She mumbled something again, slightly louder this time, but still not loud enough for him to understand what she said. “What?”

“Because he pissed me off. Okay?” she finally yelled in exasperation.

“What did he do to piss you off?” he asked carefully, because if the guy did anything to hurt her, he was going to hunt the asshole down and kill him.

“He was bored,” she growled. “He was holding me at gunpoint and acting like I was the one that forced him into the situation and it pissed me off, okay. I mean the audacity!” Red Hood fought laughing at the adorable scrunched up face she made as she talked. She waved her arms around agitatedly as she spoke. “You don't want to be here? Newsflash, asshole! Neither do I! I mean, if you’re going to threaten me, put some effort into it, you know? Am I not worth the effort?”

“You are.” Red Hood answered instantly. “I mean, you seem like you are… from what I can tell.”

“It’s just disrespectful,” she groused, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting as she leaned against the table.

“Extremely,” he agreed absently, staring at her pouting lips. “Lucky for you though. Seems like he underestimated you. I don’t even think you needed this knight in shining leather to rescue you.”

She huffed out a laugh. “I already have a knight in shining leather. Two, actually, if you count my roommate, which I do. I don’t really need another.”

He motioned like he wanted to take his helmet off but stopped himself. He positioned his arm on the table she was leaning on, supporting his weight as he leaned closer to her. “But are they heroes?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “I mean… to me,” she added quickly. She didn’t need anyone making any kind of a connection between her and Chat.

He seemed to contemplate her for a moment before responding. “You must be quite something to have so many knights willing to fight for you. But, maybe you can use another, after all they’re not here right now and I am. I can be your knight in shining Kevlar instead.”

She chuckled, looking down shyly. When she looked back up, it was through her eyelashes. “Yes, you are here and during the day too,” she smirked at him. “I didn’t think you guys could come out during the day. I thought sun repelled you.”

“You’re thinking of vampires.”

She pretended to study him carefully. “So you’re stating for the official record that you are not, in fact, vampires then? Just regular bats. Interesting.” She looked away nodding as if in thought. “I’ll have to let my friend know you’re refuting that theory. She runs a superhero blog. The vampire Bats theory is one of the more popular posts.”

He chuckled and she could hear the smile through his words. “We aren’t. Well, I’m not. Can’t vouch for Robin though. He’s definitely some kind of cryptid.”

Her face was starting to hurt from trying to contain her smile. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. “Although… you could be lying. After all, you are entirely covered right now… in the middle of the day… in the summer. That’s a lot of leather for a hot day. It kind of looks like you’re hiding from the sun.” She shrugged her shoulders innocently.

Red Hood stared at her a few more seconds and she was cursing the helmet for an entirely different reason than she usually did. Right now she was dying to know what kind of face he was making. Was he smirking? Was he frowning? Was he blushing? Did she make Red Hood blush! Was he enjoying the interaction or was she annoying him? He moved over to the window he had thrown the thief through earlier and stopped a few feet from it. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal his forearm and exposed it to the sun. “Happy?”

Marinette looked at his forearm for a few seconds, struck by the muscles that were so defined even in his forearms. The things that man could probably do with his hands… She walked closer and started to reach out to touch his forearm only to snap her hand back at the last second. Her cheeks blazed brightly. She cleared her throat lightly. “For now,” she nodded as casually as she could manage, looking everywhere but his eyes.

“Don’t feel shy, P… rincess,” he smirked at her. “Feel free to feel freely.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, as much to stop herself from reaching out to touch him as embarrassment. “Probably not a good idea to go around groping people you don’t know so….”

“So,” he started quietly, moving closer to her, “you’re saying you want to get to know me better and then you’ll grope me.” He quirked his head to the side as he took another step closer. “How well do we have to know each other for that? ‘Cuz, I’d let you do it now, so it’s all up to you.”

Marinette’s cheeks blazed a deep red. She looked away to collect herself. While this was fun and Red Hood’s body should be as illegal as his actions, she wasn’t looking to be another notch for him and considering the speed he was moving with someone he just met a few seconds ago, that’s all she would be. She took a breath and looked back up at him. “I’m saying… I should find the papers I was sent here for and get them back to my roommate.”

“Let me walk you home. Make sure the guy doesn’t come back. I can check the security of your place too to make sure you’re safe,” he offered in a tone that sounded sincere.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“Okay?” He sounded surprised at her answer. Most women must not say yes to him, which frankly she had a really hard time believing.

“To the walk, not the apartment check,” she corrected him firmly. “My apartment is safe.”

“Are you sure? I can…”

“My roommate made sure it’s safe and I trust my roommate more than I trust you,” she cut him off. “No offense.”

Red Hood was silent for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay.”

<><><><><>

Marinette laid down on the couch for a while after getting home replaying the events in her head. No matter how many times she ran through them, they still didn’t make any sense. The thief didn’t make sense. Red Hood being there during the day didn’t make sense. And Red Hood hitting on her… didn’t not make sense, but it definitely dampened the crush she had on him.

After a little while, her stomach reminded her she had planned to pick up something to eat after picking up the paperwork, which means she hadn’t eaten since the croissant she had at breakfast and it was now dinnertime. She let out a groan and forced herself up off the couch. Maybe chopping some vegetables would make her feel better anyway.

She had already started sautéing the onions when the puppy dog eyed man himself finally made it home. “That smells great, Mari. Were you able to get the paperwork?”

Marinette blinked at him a few times before narrowing her eyes and pointing the knife she was holding at him. “You’re not allowed to do puppy dog eyes anymore!”

“What? Why? I mean… I don’t… do that,” he trailed off quietly at the glare she was sending him.

“Yes, you do,” she glowered and went back to cutting vegetables for dinner a little more forcefully than she had originally.

“So what happened that was so bad?” he asked carefully. He moved to sit on the counter, but made sure to keep a fair distance between him and Marinette, or more specifically, her knife.

“The office got robbed!” she exclaimed loudly, waving the knife wildly. “While I was in it!”

He jumped down off the counter and ran to her. He grabbed her shoulders and looked her over carefully for any signs of injury. “Mari! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Marinette scoffed. “No. I just started trying to take him down when Red Hood interrupted.”

“Red Hood, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Yes, Red Hood,” she rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it quickly and took the knife from her hand first. Once he was fairly safe from getting stabbed, accidentally or on purpose, he continued. “Did you flirt with him?”

“What?” Her cheeks flared brightly. What the hell! Why was he asking her that? That was not a conversation she wanted to have. It was hard enough to have normal conversations with him and his tight shirts and charming smile and piercing eyes, but him encouraging her to flirt with other people was really not a conversation she wanted to have.

“Well you… you like him, right? You said he was your favorite and he was a dilf, even though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any kids,” he said nonchalantly as he swirled the onions in the pan.

“Yeah, because he could be my daddy,” Marinette muttered to herself, but apparently not as quietly as she thought she did, judging by the choking sounds next to her.

“What!”

“What?” The smug smirk making its way across his face told her that her denial didn’t come across as innocently as she had hoped. “Shut up, Jason.”

“So he made a good impression then?” He asked somewhat awkwardly, which was bizarre for him. “You might even want to see him again?”

She smacked him in the shoulder pausing when he flinched heavily. She stared at him, studying him closely. That was where Red Hood had been nursing earlier. Red Hood, who has the same dimensions as Jason. Red Hood, who had a still healing cut on his forearm in the exact same spot as the one Jason mysteriously showed up with a few days ago. Red Hood, who knew her roommate was a he. Red Hood, who reminded her so much of Jason, which is why she liked him so much in the first place. Red Hood, who was definitely flirting with her as he rescued her while she was the only one… in Jason’s aunt’s office… after saving her from someone who, thinking back, had the same dimensions and eye color as Roy…

“Oh he made an impression,” she said absentmindedly, still staring at his shoulder.

“A… um, a good one? He did save you, right? Heroic deeds and all? Women love a hero,” Jason added casually.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds, letting the pieces settle into place. Finally, her eyes widened in realization. “You set it up…”

Jason’s face went blank. “I… What?”

“You set it up,” Marinette repeated with more confidence. “You… Why?”

“What are you talking about?” Jason tried desperately.

She punched him hard in the shoulder. “Jesus! Fuck, Pixie. That hurt.” Jason cried out as he rubbed his aching shoulder.

“Good! What the fuck? Why would you do that? Were you trying to scare me?”

“No! I was… Because… because you liked Red Hood. I wanted you to meet him,” he said defensively. He looked away and took a breath. When he looked back, his voice was quieter, shakier. “You wanted Red Hood and… and I wanted you so…”

“You know, you could have just, I don’t know, popped up on the roof when I was there or showed up when I was walking home. You didn’t have to stage a robbery! Think about all that damage Kate has to deal with now!”

“She was remodeling anyway. She needed to demo the entire office so… two birds, you know?” He shrugged a little too casually to be casual and flipped the onions again.

“And one bat.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Or you could have just… said something”

“You weren’t interested in me. You were interested in Red Hood.”

Marinette let out a long sigh. “I was interested in Red Hood because he reminded me of you.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’. And liking him seemed less emotionally damaging than destroying my relationship with you by flirting.”

“You thought I wasn’t interested?” He looked at her incredulously. She looked down at her feet, shuffling them awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact, almost like she was afraid of what he was going to say. He couldn’t allow that to continue. He turned off the stove and walked up to her slowly, careful not to scare her, just like Red Hood had earlier that day. He gently cupped her face, softly enough that she could pull away if she wanted to. He stroked her cheeks tenderly.

When he finally spoke up again, his voice was loving and reverent. “Pix, I’m head over heels. I don’t think you even… no, I know you don’t know how much or you wouldn’t question why I tried talking to you as Red Hood instead. I love you, Pix. I love your heart and your humor and your sass and your passion… and your face. I love that too.

“And God, your smiles. I love your smile when you’re happy, which is different than your smile when you beat me at UMS, which is different than your smile when you see a little kitten, which is different than your smile when you’re thinking about home, which is different than your smile after you’ve completed a commission, which is different than your smile when I make an amazing joke that you hate. I love them all and I just want to see any of them, all of them, every day.”

He didn’t realize how close he had gotten to Marinette’s face until he realized the gasp she let out sounded like it was right next to him. She laid her hands over his wrists. “Jason…”

“And I really hope I didn’t…”

“Jason!” she interrupted. He looked at her wide eyed. She smiled reassuringly at him. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh God, Pixie, you can’t imagine how happy that would make me,” he smiled down at her, lowering himself so his lips were close enough for her to reach.

She grinned back up at him as she pushed herself up, her lips a few millimeters from his. “Oh, I think I have an idea,” she whispered before closing the distance.

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - heist

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Nothing

Part i of the Without You series: When Colson and Megan break up, the boys count on Y/N to piece Colson back together, which only leads to disaster.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Colson being kind of a dick, cursing, a little bit of aggression/ violence. This one’s definitely angsty.

A/N: This was supposed to be just a one part fic. Then that turned into 2 parts. And then 3. And then all of a sudden I had written 5 parts and over 10,000 words. Enjoy 😊 (also this is v unedited so if you see a mistake... mind ya business)

Word Count: 2084

| ii | iii | iv | v | vi |

masterlist

When you got the text from Rook, you knew it was probably gonna be bad.

Megan just left him, for good. Not gonna be pretty the next few days so maybe don’t come by anytime soon.

Your heart broke for your best friend. Colson had been really in love with Megan. And as much as you hated seeing them together for your own personal reasons, you could tell he was really happy.

Ok. Let me know if you guys need me. If it gets bad I can take Casie for a few days. Take care of him for me pls.

You and Colson had been friends for years now. You knew almost everything about each other, you told him everything. He let you crash at his place after your ex kicked you out, and you had spent many hours curled up with him, watching stupid movies to distract him from his most recent breakup or mental breakdown.

But this was different. Colson told you he wanted to marry her at some point, and you knew he wasn’t lying. And you couldn’t blame him. As much as you hated no longer being the only women (other than Casie) in his life, you couldn’t dislike Megan. She was just one of those people who everyone loved.

The thought of texting Colson crossed your mind, but you weren’t sure if it would hurt or help. From the sound of it, he was a wreck.

So, naturally, you texted Pete.

Have you talked to Cols yet?

With Colson came Pete, or came you, you weren’t really sure. Somewhere along the way you and Pete had become close friends. He was like the older brother you’d never asked for, and he would probably say something similar about you.

You couldn’t really explain it, Pete could read you like a book. And because of that, he knew everything. He was the only one to catch on to the way you sometimes looked at Colson for too long, or got irritated when he’d bring a new girl around.

I’m heading over there right now. You should talk to him.

You rolled your eyes.

Not sure that’s the best idea. You guys are better at handling... all that. Once he gets a little less angry then I’ll take him.

Pete texted you back a few minutes later.

Thanks for the support, kid. I’ll keep you updated. Just pulled in.

Good luck, Petey.

You tossed your phone on your bed, a sigh leaving your lips. You decided worrying was a problem for another day.

No more than 12 hours later you were getting a phone call from Rook.

“Dude it’s like 4 in the morning, why are you calling me.”

“Y/N, we’ve tried everything. He’s locked up in his room and every time one of us tries to talk to him he blows up. Literally he almost punched Slim a few hours ago.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning at the predicament. “So now you want me to come over?” You asked, “What do you think I’m gonna be able to do?”

“Well he’s not gonna try and hit you for one. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he’s significantly nicer to you than to anyone else.”

“What do I even say to him? “Sorry that the love of your life broke up with you but at least we can smoke pot and watch Spongebob?” I mean come on, man. I’m not good at this.”

“Please.” He pleaded, “We’re all out of options and I can’t stand to see him get any worse than he is.”

You moved off your bed and towards your dresser. “Fine, I’ll be there in 15.”

You threw on the first pair of sweatpants you could find and slipped on shoes, grabbing your key and heading out the door.

True to your word, you pulled up to the house 15 minutes later, parking on the side of the street and heading straight into the house. When the guys saw you, they visibly brightened up.

“You guys are such fucking wimps.” You rolled your eyes as you made your way towards the stairs.

Baze chuckled, “We love you Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and continued on your way, stopping by Casie’s room to see if she was asleep. To your surprise, she wasn’t.

“Hey sweet girl,” you whispered as you entered her room, “why are you still up?”

She smiled a little when she saw you. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m really worried about Dad.”

You leaned on her doorframe, sending her a sad smile. “I am too. But he’ll be okay. Your dad’s pretty tough.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but he really liked Megan.”

“Did you?” You ask, trying to gauge her emotions.

“I mean, I guess so. She was nice to me. Most of his girlfriends aren’t that nice to me.”

“That’s a pretty shitty way to measure if you like someone or not.” She giggles at that. “Don’t tell your dad I said that word in front of you.”

“Ok. She was nice. And she made him happy so, yeah, I guess I liked her. Not as much as I like you but...” Casie’s voice got higher as she dragged out the last word and you just rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

Casie had this fantasy of you and Colson getting married one day, but you always told her it would never happen.

“Ok kiddo, whatever you say.” You teased her, “try and get some sleep, okay?”

She nodded with a smile. “Are you gonna go talk to Dad?”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later, okay? If you need to come over and talk or stay the night or anything just call me, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” She said quietly.

“Love you too, Case.”

You shut the door to her room, moving down the hallway to Colson’s door. You took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and knocked.

“I told you guys to go the fuck away.” A muffled yet angry voice said from the opposite side of the door.

“It’s me, Cols. Y/N.” You said, hoping he could hear you.

When you got no response you asked, “Can I come in?”

A few more seconds of silence followed, and then the lock clicked and the door opened. You stood face-to-face with your best friend. His hair was a mess, falling in his face. The bags under his eyes were darker than ever, and the frown he wore made him look even more pathetic. You felt your heart breaking.

As you met his eyes, you gave him a sad smile. “Hey Cols.”

Instead of responding, he wrapped his arms around you, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair.

He started walking backwards, pulling you with him as he continued to hug you. One of his hands pushed the door shut and he sat on his bed, finally letting go of you.

You looked down at him, grabbing his hand and holding it in your own. It was something you had done before, you two were very touchy people and so half of your friendship was just you two cuddling or play fighting or holding hands.

“So we can do one of three things,” you started, “We can talk about it, we can cuddle and watch something stupid and pretend nothing’s wrong, or we can get high and do something stupid.”

For the first time in what you would imagine to be all night, Colson smiled. it was a very small smile, but you took it.

He looked up at you through his eyelashes. “And by stupid you mean...”

You rolled your eyes, “I mean we can go set off bottle rockets in the backyard or try to jump off your roof and into the pool.”

“Oh damn. I was hoping you were gonna say you would suck my dick.”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness and the implication. You shoved his shoulder, “Colson! That’s gross!” You giggled, but his expression was unwaveringly serious.

“I’m being serious.” He deadpanned and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Colson what the fuck?” Your mind was spinning trying to figure out if he was joking.

You got your answer when he stood up, grabbing your waist and leaning over you. “I thought you’d want to...”

You took in a breath at the sudden proximity, trying to back away from him but his grip remaining firmly on your waist. “Colson, stop. Please. This isn’t funny.”

You could smell the alcohol on his breath and you had to keep reminding yourself of that fact. He’s drunk, and sad, and doesn’t know what he’s saying.

“I thought you’d want to, cause it’ll make me happy. And you’ll do anything to make me happy.” One of his hands reached up and grabbed your jaw, making sure you couldn’t look away.

“Colson you’re being a fucking weirdo, let me go.” You raised your voice. Your heart was racing at this point and the thoughts flowing around your head were not pretty.

You were always anxious for the day he’d figure you out. When he’d finally realize how you felt for him. But this was worse than anything you’d thought of.

“You’ll do anything to make me happy because you love me, right?”

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, wanting nothing more but to look away from his sinister expression. The way he was looking at you made it very clear that he was enjoying your discomfort, your embarrassment.

“Colso-”

He walked forwards, pushing you gently against the wall. His arms went to either side of you, his face inches from yours. You tried to look away, but his hand on your jaw forced you to face him.

Any other time you would have loved for Colson to pin you against his wall, but this was wrong.

“Just say it. Say you’re in love with me, and I’ll drop it.”

“Colson, what the fuck are you on right now?” You tried to steer the topic away from you, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Say it.”

You reached up to try and push his chest away from you, but he was much taller and stronger than you, so you did nothing.

“Just tell me!” He yelled at your silence. A tear slipped down your cheek as you trembled under him. His face was red and his eyes were watering.

“Why are you doing this?” You whispered. This all felt like a bad dream, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

“Because I need to know if she was right.” His voice got a little quieter, but he still wouldn’t move away from you. “I need to know if the reason the love of my fucking life just left me is true.”

You were shaking, your breaths getting shorter. “What are you talking about.” Your words were choked. The grip on your jaw started to get a little too tight.

“I defended you!” He yelled, tears falling from his face. “She told me that you were in love with me and I defended you.”

“Colson you’re hurting me.” You whined, trying to wriggle your way out of his grasp. He ignored your statement and continued talking, but his grip loosened slightly.

“And then she told me that she thinks I’m in love with you.” His voice was getting darker. “And that’s why she left. So I want to make it very clear to you.” He paused, leaning closer to your ear. “I will never love you. Ever. Not now, not in a million lifetimes. You mean nothing to me.”

Your vision was blurry from your tears, so you blindly reached out to push him away from you. His body seemed to have given up, as he moved backwards out of your way, stumbling slightly. Through your tears you could make out a smug smile on the man before you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

You ran down the stairs, the guys waiting for you to give them good news, but their hope turned to concern once they saw you. You walked straight past them towards the door, not trusting yourself to say anything without breaking completely.

As you reached for the door handle you heard a faint yell from upstairs, followed by loud banging, and then silence. You sniffled, turning the handle and leaving the house, much to the protest of your friends.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker angst #est #xx

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 15

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,365ish

Summary: The divorce papers are still an issue. (Grey’s Anatomy 2x05) [Finally! I know. Thank you for being patient with me!]

You grabbed your things and rushed out of the bar. Steve quickly did the same.

“Y/N,” Steve called.

“No. I don’t want to talk about this,” you replied, heading down the street. “Not now. Not with you.”

“Y/N…”

“You didn’t sign the divorce papers. Fine. I get it. End of discussion.”

“Y/N.”

“What?!?” You finally spun around to face him.

“Oh… I usually just say ‘Y/N’ and then you yell at me. I haven’t really thought past that point.” You scowled and shook your head. “I actually didn’t have anything planned.” You hit him with your bag. “Hey!” He rubbed his arm. “What is with that?” You did it a few more times. “Hey stop it. Ow.”

“Seriously?! Seriously?! You know what, just leave me alone.”

Steve reached for you. “Y/N—“

“Stop it! I said leave me alone! I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

You stormed off, heading to find your car so that you could go back home. You were pissed at Steve and, mostly, yourself. How could you let yourself believe that he would be so willing to sign those divorce papers to be with you?

~~~

All you interns had just finished rounds and Gamora had you all in the hallway for assignments. Before she could call them out, Peggy interrupted.

“Has anyone seen Dr. Rogers this morning?” She wondered.

“His name is on the OR board,” Gamora answered. “He should be here somewhere.”

“Thank you.” Peggy swiftly walked off.

“Quill, Lang, you’re in the pit today. Val, there’s a cardiac patient waiting up for you on 2. Barton, they need help in peds. Romanoff, keep an eye on the Longs. And L/N, you’re with Rogers. I don’t want any problems. Go.”

Everyone hurried away while you stayed put. “Rogers?” You whispered. “Uh, I guess, which one?”

“Steve.”

“Uh, I don’t think—“

“Hey, life is short. Times are hard. The road is long with many a winding turn,” Gamora sassed. “He actually asked for you. Take it up with him.” Gamora walked away.

“Shit.”

“Shit? Oh no,” Tony showed up beside you. “It’s only morning. What’s wrong already?”

“Steve didn’t sign the divorce papers.”

“Oh,” Tony grimaced.

“And now he’s asked for me to be on his service today.”

“Well, maybe he will sign them. He just has to think about it.”

“But I don’t want him to think about it. I want it… I want…”

“You want to be the obvious choice. I get it.”

“Yeah… how’s trying to get Pepper going?”

“I think I almost have her. I’ve been in on all her surgeries that I can be. Fury and Hill are even making it work.”

“Wow. I wish I had everyone on my side. But… I don’t and it doesn’t matter anymore. It has to be his choice, not mine, not me pleading or begging. It needs to be all him.”

“Wise,” Tony nodded. “I still think he’ll choose you.”

“We will see… we will see…”

~~~

“Y/N,” Steve greeted when you found him.

“Your wife is looking for you,” you responded.

“Oh, my gosh,” he sighed. “This is hard for me, Y/N.”

“Well, let me make it easy then. I’m not gonna be that woman. The one who breaks up a marriage or begs you to want me. You can sign the papers or you cannot. The choice is yours. Either way, when it comes to this relationship, I’m out.” Steve’s eyes widened and he went to speak but you quickly cut him off. “Nope. We aren’t getting into it anymore. Now, where’s this patient I’m supposed to be helping with.”

Steve pointed behind him. “Down there. But, Y/N—“

“No.” You walked away, Steve following.

“Y/N—“

“No.”

Finally letting it go, Steve sighed and followed you into the patient’s room. There was a young woman on the bed.

“Good morning,” Steve greeted.

“Morning Dr. Rogers,” she responded.

“This is Dr. L/N.”

“Hello,” you greeted. “Can you tell us about your pain?”

“I’ve had a twinge in my back for a little while,” the young woman explained. “I thought it would go away, but then last night my legs went numb. And this morning my back… the pain is just too much.”

“Miss Yang, we’re going to put you on a PCA pump,” Steve said, “give you some morphine which should help control the pain.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, but there is a bigger problem here. I’ve just take a look at your MRI—“

“Cris!” A man exclaimed, him and a woman rushing into the room and to the young woman’s bedside. “Why didn’t you call us before coming down here?”

“I’m sorry,” Cris said. She turned to look at you and Steve. “These are my parents.”

“What’s going on?”

“I was just about to explain that Cris’s MRI has shown that she has myxopapillary ependymoma,” Steve answered. “It’s a tumor in her spinal canal. But the good news is that we can operate. You have a 95% chance of fully if we get you into surgery as soon as possible. We can’t wait another moment. With a tumor this aggressive even waiting another day puts you at risk of permanent paralysis.”

“Father?” Cris questioned, looking to the man.

Mr. Yang shook his head. “No,” he said. “No surgery.”

“Mr. Yang, without surgery Cris will be paralyzed, probably within the next 24 hours,” Steve said.

“There will be no surgery today. We’re taking her home.”

“Cris needs the surgery,” you pressed.

“And she can have it at another time.”

“Look,” Steve tried again, “Mr. Yang—“

“We are taking our daughter home.”

Steve looked at Cris. “Cris, you are over 18. You don’t need your father’s consent.”

“I am Hmong, and my father is the elder,” Cris explained. “He says I go home, I go home.”

You could tell that Steve was holding back from a harsh reply. He gave Mr. Yang a nod before leaving the room, you following after him.

“Hmong? Let’s find out what that means,” Steve said.

“Do I continue to process her discharge?” You wondered.

“Yeah we have to. It’s insane, but we have to. It reminds me of this case I had one time and this woman came to the office and—“

“Look, do you need me for anything else work related?”

Steve looked around the hallway before pulling you into an on-call room with him.

“Look, I was married for 11 years,” Steve began. “Peggy is my family. That is 11 Thanksgivings, 11 birthdays and 11 Christmases. And in one day, I’m supposed to sign a piece of paper and end my family? A person doesn’t do that. Not without a little hesitation. I’m entitled to a little uncertainty here! At least a moment to understand the magnitude to what it means to cut somebody out of my life. I’m entitled to at least one moment of painful doubt. And a little understanding from you would be nice.”

“I am not fighting you on this,” you responded, opening the door. “Not anymore.”

You stormed away. Leaving both you and Steve in an confused state of anger.

~~~

Bruce was walking down the hall when he noticed Peggy.

“Dr. Rogers,” he greeted. “Still here, I see.”

“I couldn’t leave you,” she responded with a smile. “Have you seen the other Dr. Rogers by chance?”

“I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

“Thanks,” Peggy walked off and Natasha walked up.

“So, um, thanks for, uh, being there,” she said softly.

“No thanks needed,” Bruce responded.

“Okay.”

“So where are we?”

“Uh, the north-east corner of a medical center.” Bruce glared at her. “Oh, I’m, I’m getting back on my feet.”

“Fine.”

“That doesn’t mean that—“

“Natasha.”

“It’s my first day back, I’ve… I’ve got—“

“I’m not waiting forever.” The lights flickered, causing the two of them to glance up. “And, apparently, I’m not the only one.”

“Dr. Banner!” Nurse Vision jogged up. “There’s a problem with the elevator!”

“And?”

“Dr. Quill and Dr. Barton are stuck in it with your GSW patient that they were bringing up to the OR.”

“I should have fought harder for the pit,” Natasha grumbled.

~~~

“Lightning hit a sub station,” Maria Hill told Fury as they walked down the hall with Peggy. “We’re running on back up generators.” The medical center had lost its power. “One of them is down.”

Fury stopped, causing the others to do so as well. He rested his hands on his hips, annoyed.

“Breathe, Nick,” Peggy guided. “Breathe.”

“Don’t tell me to breathe, damn it!” He exclaimed. “The only direct means of transporting from the ER to the OR isn’t working. I’ll breathe if I wanna breathe.”

Fury huffed before making his way to the elevators. Gamora and Banner were there, watching some men pry open an elevator.

“How bad is it?” Fury asked.

“Two interns and a GSW to the chest,” Bruce explained.

Fury closed his eyes and put his hand to his forehead.

“Good air in,” Peggy coaxed, doing it herself. “Bad air out.”

Fury gave her a look before turning his attention back on the elevator. “Come on people! Get those doors open!”

The men working on the elevator doors, finally get the door partially open. Revealing that the elevator car was caught between floors. Peter and Clint were in there with their GSW patient.

“It’s jammed,” one of the workers said. “It won’t open anymore. This is as wide as it will go.”

“What did you two do?” Gamora asked the interns in the elevator, kneeling down to see them better.

“Nothing!” They both exclaimed.

“How’s the patient?” Bruce asked, getting down beside Gamora.

“He’s not looking so good,” Clint answered.

~~~

“Why do the lights keep flickering?” Cris asked.

“Something about a backup generator,” you answered, finishing up hooking the morphine up to her IV. “This pump will provide you with a morphine drip and should stop your pain.”

“I told you, I don’t need it. I’m going home.”

“You realize you’ll have to sign an AMA form stating that you’re leaving against medical advice.”

“Fine,” she nodded.

“I know this is new and confusing. I actually called a social worker, they’re willing to come down and talk to you—“

“Spare me the cultural divide, love. I grew up from the street down here. I play in a band. I get it. My father doesn’t. He says no, it’s no.”

“We’re talking about your ability to ever walk again.”

“That’s what you're talking about. I’m talking about my family. Have you ever even heard of the Hmong people?” You shook your head. “Our religion has got rules that are way old and way set in stone and way spiritual and you don’t mess with them.” She sighed. “You don’t anger the ancestors. Even if you pierce your tongue and play in a band.”

“What are the rules exactly?”

~~~

“Rogers!” Gamora shouted as she headed towards Steve. “You’re wife is looking for you.”

“I know,” he responded.

“Are you actively avoiding her?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

Gamora scoffed, shaking her head as she walked away. “You’ve got to deal with your problems before they all blow up in this medical center!”

“Steve,” you called, coming up beside him.

“Yes?” He replied, turning to look at you.

“You need to talk to Cris’s father. I’d do it myself but I guess having testicles is a requirement.”

Steve sighed. “Did you try social services?”

“They can’t help us. Mr. Yang believes that Cris is missing something that she needs for surgery.”

“Missing something? Missing what?”

“One of her souls. We don’t need someone from social services. We need a shaman.”

~~~

Peter and Clint were still stuck in the elevator with their patient, Tommy. The patient was getting delirious, trying to sit up and pull out the tubes and wires.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Peter asked, trying to stop him.

“I have to get home,” Tommy said.

“Tom, you’re in the hospital.”

He sat up. “Need to get home.” Clint and Peter quickly worked to restrain him. “No. Need to get home.”

Dr. Banner, hearing the commotion, peered through the small opening of the elevator doors. “What’s his blood pressure?” The attending asked.

“It’s not reading,” Clint informed. “He’s too agitated.”

“How’s his pulse?”

“Thready but it’s still there,” Peter answered.

“Do you have any instruments?”

“Uh, we have…” Peter quickly looked around. “Uh, just a code box and some gloves.”

“You didn’t bring an open chest tray?”

“No. We thought—“

“You don’t have time for excuses. Barton, blood pressure.”

“I’ve taken it 3 times,” Clint replied.

“And?”

“I can’t hear systolic over 50.” Clint looked down at Tommy, who is really pale and wheezing. “He’s gonna die.” Both interns look at each other, scared.

“Intubate him,” Bruce ordered. “I’ll be right back.” He went to push himself up off the floor.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“To get an instrument tray. You guys are going to have to open up his chest.”

Clint and Peter looked back at each, minds going a mile a minute as Banner stood up. Gamora was behind him, having heard the whole thing.

“Are you sure about having them open his chest?” Gamora asked.

“No,” he answered before he hurried away.

~~~

Chief Fury and Dr. Hill were walking down the hall together.

“This is incogitable,” Fury said. “There’s not enough power to move those elevators?”

“They’re doing what they can to replace the back up generator now,” Hill responded. “Fire department is standing by.”

“All critical patients?”

“Moved to the south wing.”

“Incoming trauma?”

“Re-routed to the other medical centers.”

“That damn back-up generator should’ve been replaced last year.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So why didn’t it happen? Dr. Hill, you know everything. Tell me whose ass I need to kick.”

“That would be your ass, Chief. You didn’t authorize the replacement generator to save money for the new MRI machine.”

Not wanting to show weakness, Fury walked away. Grumbling under his breath as he went.

~~~

It didn’t take long for Bruce to return to the elevator with the things the interns would need.

“This isn’t gonna be too sterile,” Bruce said as he got down to hand them the tools, “but we can still try. Prep and drape the patient.”

“On it,” Clint responded, quickly getting to work.

Peter stood there for a moment, nervously staring at Tommy. Eventually, he snapped out of it, shakily helping.

“Okay…” Peter breathed out once they were finished. “We’re really going to do this.”

Clint just looked at him, both interns feeling completely unprepared, as he kept squeezing air into the patient. Bruce stuck his hand back through with a pair of scissors and a scalpel in it. He hands them towards Peter, looking at him expectedly.

“Take these,” the attending said. Peter just looked at them, remaining still. “Quill, take the scalpel.” Peter just continued to stand frozen.

“Come on, Peter!” Clint exclaimed. “Take the damn scalpel!”

Dr. Banner looked at Peter, completely confused as to way the intern wasn’t moving. Bruce shook his hand to signal for Peter to take the instruments. But the intern looked away.

“Ventilate!” Clint demanded, annoyed at Peter as he shoved what he was holding into Peter’s hands. “I got it.” Clint swiped the instruments from Dr. Banner. He shot Peter an angry look. “Okay,” Clint looked to Dr. Banner. “What do I do?”

“Make a large anterior, lateral, mid-auxiliary incision in the 5th intercostal space,” Bruce directed.

“How—how large?”

“As long as possible. You need to get 2 hands in there. It needs to be long and deep. Use the scissors if you have to.” Peter then made eye contact with Bruce. “Quill, hold a light up for Barton while you’re ventilating. You can do that, right?”

Peter nodded, grabbing a flashlight from Banner. Clint took a deep breath. He was about to cut when Bruce startled him.

“Barton, be sure you don’t cut into the lobe of the heart,” Bruce warned.

“Uh… how—“ Clint paused to clear his throat. “How can I be sure of that?”

“You just have to be sure.”

“We’ll, uh, we’re definitely not in Kansas anymore,” Clint tried to joke before cutting into Pete’s chest.

~~~

You walked up to Cris’ room. Steve was standing outside, watching the patient and her father interact.

“Is the shaman here yet?” You asked.

“He’s late,” Steve replied. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “We need to get her into surgery right now.”

Before you really thought about it, you put a comforting hand on Steve’s arm. “It will work out.”

Steve looked down at your hand and then at you. You two stared at each other, lost in the others eyes. It was too long before you realized that you two were too close for your liking and that your hand was still on his arm.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, stepping back.

“Y/N, please just—“

You shook your head. “I’ll see how far our shaman’s out.” And you hurried away.

~~~

Bruce hadn’t moved from his viewpoint of inside the elevator. It had been a while now since Clint had cut into Tommy, but Bruce couldn’t see exactly what was going on.

“Barton, how are you doing down there?” He asked.

“Bruce,” Maria Hill said before Clint could answer. “The fire department’s here. They can get the doors open.”

“No!” Bruce turned to look at the crowd behind him. “Nobody moves. Nobody works not he elevator. I have an open chest and a very nervous intern in there. Keep them back until I give the word.” Dr. Hill nodded, motioning everyone back, before Bruce focused back on inside the elevator. “Clint.”

“I didn’t cut the heart or the lungs,” Clint answered, clearly surprised. “Dr. Banner, I didn’t cut the heart or the lungs!”

“Good, good. Very good. Now check for injuries and do a pericardiotomy.”

“Uh, I’ll need some lap pads, forceps, Metzenbaums and Satinksy clamps then.”

Bruce gave a light smile and a nod. “Yes, you will.”

Clint was quickly given the supplies and got to work.

“Okay… I’ve removed the small clot from the pericardium,” Clint informed Dr. Banner. “No obvious cardiac injuries.”

“Any change in the vitals?” Bruce wondered.

“BP’s still too low to register on the monitor,” Peter spoke up.

“We need to cross clamp the aorta.”

Clint grabbed the clamp from a tray next to him and put it through the opening.

“Stick your hand in and bluntly dissect down until you feel two tube-like structures,” Bruce guided. “The esophagus will be more medical and anterior.”

Clint stuck both his bands in the open chest. “Ah, I feel one tube that is easily collapsible and the other I store muscular, spongy. I can also feel the spine, just underneath it.”

“Yes, you’re touching the aorta.”

The intern grinned. “I’m touching the aorta.”

“Wrap the index finger of your left hand around it and apply a Satinsky clamp with your right hand.”

Clint put in the clamp. “Got it… Wait, I… I think I can localize the bleeding. I… Well… I think it’s coming from the inferior vena cava.”

“Can you find the lesion?”

“Yeah. Yeah… I think I can feel, ah—it’s too far in to repair.”

“Can you tell me how big it is?”

“Small, maybe… like, smaller than a dime.”

“Okay then Barton, I want you to take your finger and plug the hole.”

Clint nodded and did as directed. “I think I can feel his heart… it’s… it’s starting to fill more. It’s beating a little stronger.”

“Excellent. Keep your finger there.”

“Okay. Now what?”

“That’s it.”

“Really?” Bruce turned to lay on his back in relief. “I just stand here with my finger plugging the hole?”

“Yes. Until we can get you out of that elevator and into the OR.” Bruce lifted his head and looked at Dr. Hill. “Tell the fire department to get them out of there.”

“On it,” Hill responded.

Bruce rolled back over and looked at Clint. “Barton.”

“Yes, sir?” The intern replied.

“You just flew solo.”

~~~

“Okay, Cris. We’re going to shut off the PCA pump now,” you began explaining, “which means you will be in a lot of pain for the duration of the—“

“The healing ritual,” Cris interrupted.

“Are you going to be okay with that?”

“Yeah. I can’t find my soul if I’m medicated. No pain, no gain, right?”

“Just, tell me this… you believe in it all too, right? You’re not just doing this for your father.”

“I know it sounds like a load of crap but… just watch the ritual. You’ll see.”

“See what?”

“The moment it happens.” You nodded as the shaman came in with Cris’ family. She looked at them. “I’m ready.”

To give them some room, you and Steve watched and waiting from outside the room.

“How long do you think it takes to retrieve a lost soul?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” you replied.

You and Steve carefully watched the healing ritual. And you did see what Cris was talking about. The moment it happened. You didn’t have to believe in it, but you did find a new found respect for her beliefs.

~~~

During Cris’ surgery, you and Steve worked in tandem. You felt weighed down the whole time though. Peggy stood watch in the gallery, smiling down at Steve. He looked up every so often, always looking at his wife. You noticed each time.

You had already finished scrubbing out of surgery by the time Steve started himself. You were outside the scrub room, pacing. You couldn’t do this, this whole pretending to not care thing. It was too hard. You burst into the scrub room, Steve immediately looking at you.

“I lied,” you said. “I’m not out of this relationship. I’m in. I’m so in, it’s humiliating because here I am, going to beg—“

“Y/N,” Steve interrupted quietly.

“Just shut up. You say Y/N and I yell, remember?”

“Yeah.” He leaned away the sink, listening.

“Okay, here it is,” you took a deep breath. “Your choice. It’s simple.” You started to get emotional. Damn it, you loved this man too much. “Her or me. And I’m sure she’s really great. But, Steve… I love you… in a really, really big, “pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window”… unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me. Choose me. Love me.”

Steve was staring at you lovingly. He moved to touch you, but you pulled away.

“I’ll be at Happy’s tonight,” you continued. “So if you decide to sign the papers, meet me there.”

Then you walked out. Steve, distressed now, sighed. What was he going to do?

~~~

“Do you think he’ll show?” You asked, doing a tequila shot.

“He’ll show,” Happy said.

The door opened. You turned to the door hopefully, but it’s just Tony walking in. He came over, took off his suit coat and sat next to you at the bar.

“I got your message,” Tony said, motioning for Happy to get him a drink. “You gave him a choice, brave.” He nodded. “But he’s not stupid, though love does make you stupid sometimes. He’ll chose you.” Happy handed him a drink. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure?” You questioned. “I… I literally told him that I loved him. I’ve… I’ve never done that before.”

“He loves you too. He’s just an idiot.”

~~~

Steve was sitting in a doctor’s lounge at the hospital, fidgeting with a pen. The divorce papers were in a manila envelope on the table in front of him. Gamora entered the room, dressed up.

“How’s your patient?” Gamora asked as she put some things away. “The one who got her soul back?”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Steve responded. He looked up at took Gamora in. “Look at you. I’ve never seen you dressed up.”

“Yeah, well, I’m suppose to have a date tonight.”

“Yeah? Anyone I know?”

“Like I’d tell you.” Gamora noticed the pen in Steve’s hand and the envelope on the table. “You haven’t signed those divorce papers yet, have you?”

Steve shook his head. “Gamora.” He looked at her, pleading. “Tell me what to do.”

“Not a chance.”

“Why does this have to be so hard?”

“It’s not hard. It’s painful, but it’s not hard. You know what to do already. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be in this much pain.”

“I guess you’re right.” Steve sighed. “I shouldn’t keep you. Good luck on your date.”

~~~

Natasha found Bruce in the stairwell, as he went to find an on-call room.

“Hey,” Natasha stopped him, “I… So…” She sighed. “Here’s where we are. I work too much. I’m competitive. I’m always right. And I snore.”

Bruce looked at her confused. “What?”

“I’m trying here.”

Still looking confused, Bruce took a moment to think it out. “Oh! Ohhhh…”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“Okay. We’re a couple. Whatever. DOn’t make a big deal about it.”

She began walking away. Natasha quickly paused though and turned around. She hurried to Bruce, kissed him, and hurried down the stairs.

~~~

Peggy found Steve in the doctor’s lounge.

“There you are,” she said. “I’ve been looking, well, everywhere for you.”

“Well, you found me,” Steve responded.

“So?” She glanced down at the envelope. “Are you going to sign those divorce papers or not?”

~~~

You were still waiting at the bar. Tony was there, but so was Pepper. So as he flirted with her, he kept an eye on you. Val, Clint, and Scott had joined you.

“He’s not going to come,” you sighed. “You all don’t think he’s coming.”

“He might come,” Val said.

“Yeah, you never know,” Scott agreed.

“He’s definitely coming,” Clint said. Val quickly kicked him from under the bar. “Ow. What? Do you want her doing tequila shots all night? I’ll be the one cleaning up the vomit. Besides, I feel good. I touched a heart today.”

The bell on the door went off again. They all turned to look, but it wasn’t Steve. You sighed and turned back to Happy.

“Pour me another one.”

next chapter >

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moonknightly · 4 years ago

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and you keep me holding on : santiago garcia x reader (nine)

Word Count: 2.3k+

Excerpt: “He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.”

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, cursing, uhhh I think that’s it?

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

OCTOBER FIFTH — DAY TWO

Santi isn’t sure who calls her parents, but they’re in the waiting room the next morning and while he knows that they have every right to be there, he wishes that they would just go away. Her mother is already talking about taking her “home” the second she’s released from the hospital.

He doesn’t have the energy to fight with them yet, doesn’t know how to tell her grieving parents that her home is with him. She belongs with him, he’ll take care of her.

But then again, he’s already failed once.

Maybe she won’t feel safe with him anymore.

Maybe she won’t feel safe in the new apartment, she won’t recognize it. Sure, she’ll look around and see familiar furniture, some pictures and the duvet she’d picked out herself. Nevada. Maybe she’ll smell Santi’s cologne in the air or the stench from the cigarettes he smokes when things get just a little too hard, but it’ll all be in a space that’s entirely new.

Did he make the right decision? Should he have stayed at the last place?

No. No, he doesn’t think that would’ve been smart either.

Maybe she does need to go with her parents, back to the house she grew up in, where her room hasn’t been touched since she was in high school and everything is familiar.

But then she says his name in her sleep, and he knows that he’s not going to be able to let her go.

He knows he can take care of her. He’ll do it right this time, he’ll never let a damn thing happen to her ever again.

So Santi shuts it down the moment her mother brings it up again, and he’s surprised that her father actually sides with him on it. It doesn’t turn into an argument like he thought it would and he’s beyond thankful for that.

She stays asleep for most of the day, only waking up for a little while at a time, and when she does, she refuses to take her eyes off of Santi. It only serves as further confirmation that she needs him, he’s the right decision.

Jay offers to stay with them for a while, thinking maybe they’ll both feel better with another set of eyes, a little added protection, and at first Santi shakes his head — he feels guilty for some reason, he doesn’t know exactly why but he feels like it’s too much.

But then she has a nightmare, and he watches as Jay immediately reaches out and touches her cheeks to let her know she’s not alone, she’s safe and they’re right there. Santi’s positive that Jay has noticed that he hasn’t touched her yet, and he also knows that she probably needs someone who will be able to give her physical reassurance when she wants it.

So he caves, only if Jay will take his bed while he crashes on the couch and of course Jay says no.

But it’s not something they really have to worry or argue about right then.

She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

OCTOBER SIXTH — DAY THREE

Every single news channel has been covering her return just as much, if not more, as her disappearance. They’re still looking for Nathan, but Santi’s sure they’ll never find him. Not anytime soon, at least.

He didn’t know if he’d dumped her with the intention of her being found alive or dead, but either way he has to know she’s been found and that they’re looking for him again with the same amount of ferocity as they had been when she first went missing. He hates to think about that, how after just a few months everything just seemed to die down for everyone else but those in his little circle, and even then sometimes he felt like the only one who still cared.

Santi shakes his head and pushes those thoughts away.

Her. He just needs to focus on her.

They’d gotten her temperature up, and the cocktail of medicine they’d been pushing for the last three days seem to be doing their job. Her scans all came back clear, no damage to her heart or brain. All in all, she’s responding well to treatment.

She’s still confused though, still disorientated whenever she wakes up but the doctors assure Santi that it’s completely normal and to be expected. He’d asked them how long it would take for her to become lucid and coherent, and they hadn’t really been able to give him an answer.

Could be a few days, could be another week.

But it’s okay, she needs to rest. She needs to rest and Santi needs to get a fucking grip on himself so he can be there for her when she’s finally fully conscious again.

He thinks the nurses have started to notice that he’s keeping his distance, and that they’ve been setting him up to touch her in small ways that he can never really say no to.

“Can you fix her blanket for me?”

“Hold her hand up while I replace the bandage on her IV?”

“Help me slide her over?”

He always does what’s asked of him, but his fingers never linger and he’s managed to do it all without directly touching her skin so far. The sweatshirt she’s in is good for more than just keeping her warm.

But still, he doesn’t really count it as touching her. Direct contact with her body isn’t something he can even imagine right now because he still wants to cry every time he pulls away from her, and he’s only touching a fucking piece of clothing she’s wearing.

Santi needs to get his shit figured out.

It’s not fair to her, not in the least.

So at three in the morning, when he knows it’s going to be another hour before her morning labs are drawn, when he knows that there won’t be a single person in to bother them until then, he gets out of the chair he’s been living in and moves to sit on the end of her bed.

She stirs, and the panic in her eyes is immediate. Her fingers tighten around the blanket and she looks like she’s getting ready to scream or cry out.

He hates it. He hates causing it even though he knows that he’s not really the reason behind it.

He clears his throat and whispers her name, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering.

She blinks, his voice clearly registering in her head though she still looks confused and unsure, but the terror melts away. She knows this is someone safe, someone that she can trust and someone who isn’t going to hurt her. She’s safe.

“Stay.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes again. “You always leave.”

He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.

It breaks his heart.

“You’re not dreaming sweetheart. You’re okay.”

She shakes her head again.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, taking a deep breath before he reaches his hand out, but he stops when he’s only an inch away.

There’s no heat radiating from her, and if he wasn’t standing there watching her breathe he’d be thinking the worst.

It finally hits Santi just how small and fragile she is.

And now he feels like if he touches her, he’ll break her.

He pulls his hand back.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

OCTOBER SEVENTH — DAY FOUR

It’s cold and dark and his voice is coming from all around her. He’s calling her name, threatening her with things that she tries so hard to block out but they still creep into her mind, filling her with even more panic and dread as she’s left to think about what he’s going to do to her once he finds her.

Nathan calls it “The Game”.

He gives her a thirty second head start, tells her to run as far and as fast as she can, and if she can get away, she’s free. She can go home.

But if he catches her, his twisted words become a reality. He’ll keep her chained up for a few days, or maybe it’s a couple weeks or even a month, she’s never really sure but then the cycle repeats.

And he always catches her, always. No matter how sure she is that she’s finally escaped, he’s always right there to pin her to the ground and have his way with her. He’s always there to crush her hope and what little faith she’s able to gain back in those brief moments of thinking she’s free.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind enough to focus. She needs to get moving.

She looks down to figure out which way she had come and there’s snow. She hates snow. She used to love it, back when her and Santi would go for walks around Christmas time, hot cocoa in hand with their arms linked together. She wonders if he’s put the tree up this year. She wonders if Christmas has already passed.

But per usual, that happy thought of Santiago is ripped away from her when she hears Nathan’s voice again, this time only closer. Her skin crawls.

She has to start running. She knows she’s not as fast as she used to be, she’s too weak, but she has to try.

God, she hates snow.

She never stands a chance. It’s always so easy for Nathan to follow her tracks, and it always feels like there are tiny little needles stabbing into her bare feet with each step she takes, but she doesn’t allow herself to feel it in the moment, no. She never thinks about the pain until The Game is over, because of course she’ll take that moment of pain in trade for freedom. She’ll take those pins in needles if it means she’s just one step closer to getting away.

She thinks she might have it this time. Nathan’s voice is far off again, and she can see something in the distance. A road, maybe.

Yes, a road. That was definitely a car zooming past.

She runs faster, that familiar hope blossoming in her chest. She’s so close, so so close. Just a few more yards-

But then there’s crushing weight on top of her, and rough hands grabbing at her hips and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

He found her, of course he found her.

She immediately starts to cry, kicking herself because she should have expected it, she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes so high. All Nathan does is laugh and pull her closer, and then she feels his hand move into her hair. He holds her head up so she can keep her eyes on the road while he gets himself ready to do what he always does.

She tries to just lay there, begging her mind to drift off towards Santi, towards her safe place. When she thinks about him instead of what’s happening, it’s not so bad. Santi makes it all better.

But then another car drives by, and then another, and another and she can’t focus on anything but the fact that she’d been so close. There were people right there, maybe close enough to hear her if she’s loud enough.

She screams.

She wakes up screaming.

She’s screaming and kicking and Santi’s immediately by her side, calling her name, begging her to look at him but she doesn’t hear a thing, doesn’t register it.

He calls out for a nurse, starting to panic, afraid that she’s hurt and in pain but then he hears his name leave her lips in a broken, mangled sob and he knows she must’ve been dreaming.

He wants to cry with her. He hates seeing her like this.

Two nurses rush into the room, trying to get her attention as well but to no avail. They’re asking her what hurts, what happened, but all she can do is thrash around and call out for Santi again.

Hearing her like that, it’s the final push he needs to finally reach out to her.

Santi takes her hand, kissing each of her knuckles once he feels like she’s not going to punch him while he whispers that it’s okay, he’s right here and he’s not leaving her. She’s not with Nathan, she’s not in danger. She’s okay.

She doesn’t calm down, not really, so beyond terrified that Santiago’s voice is nothing but a trick her mind is playing on her, that he is the dream, one her brain had created to block it all out.

He repeats his words a second time, moving one of his hands up to her cheek, and it seems to break her out of it just a little bit more. He brings the second one up so that he’s cupping her face, and he watches as she immediately melts into him.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, it’s okay. It’s me, Santi.”

She doesn’t open her eyes. He wishes she would, but he doesn’t expect her to, not really. She’s so tired and he’s sure crying has left her completely exhausted.

He knows he’s right when her breathing evens out again.

But he doesn’t let go. Now that he’s touched her, he doesn’t want to stop, even though he knows that once she’s coherent it’ll probably be the last thing she wants.

He’ll take it while he can get it though.

He holds her hand all night long.

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier

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cherryyharryy · 4 years ago

Note

i have an idea for a request (it’s totally ok if you don’t want to do it) like an angst-> fluff where one of harry’s songs accidentally gets leaked bc of y/n like she has something on a flash drive and the song is on another and they get mixed up and obviously he’s really mad at y/n and they have a fight he’s super snappy with her but something happens to her like she gets into a really big accidental or something and he forgives her bc he cares about her more tha the leaked song

WC: 2.7k

***

Damage control wasn’t even an option.

Y/n sat there, staring at Harry’s laptop, numb to everything except the blaring desire to go back in time just two minutes. Two minutes is all she would need to undo possibly the biggest screwup of her life.

And the worst part is that this mistake ultimately doesn’t affect her. At least not in comparison to how it will affect Harry. And his band. And his team. Basically everyone involved with his career.

Her mind is equally begging for her to shut down and come up with a plan—an excuse—something, Is there anyway this wasn’t my fault?

She checks the time, her heart sinking to her stomach when she realizes Harry and his team will be back any minute. Any minute and she’s done for.

They’ve only been together for five months, officially. She’s still new to most everyone. She’s that girl Harry’s dating.

“I told you he played in that movie.” Jeff’s voice echoes outside the studio. Y/n closes the laptop and prays for strength.

“I have him confused with someone else.” Harry bustles through the door, a small crowd of people filing in behind him, back to the spots they left an hour ago. “Hey darling,” he greets, “finish your paper?”

Y/n’s frozen, morbidly wishing he had found out about his song leaking on his own so she wouldn’t have to tell him. “Uh, almost.”

He kisses the top of her head and hands her a cup of frozen yogurt. “Your favorite.”

“Thanks.” She sets it on the table she’s sat at while Harry pulls up a chair beside her. “Aren’t you guys still working?”

He waves in the direction of his band, “Mitch’s gotta fix his guitar.” He snickers, and slides his laptop out from under y/n’s hands. “Had a bit of an accident in the car.”

Y/n’s head tingles with what must be nerve damage, her place in this world, her place in this room, decreasing in value as Harry opens his computer.

“It’s gonna melt.” He nods to her yogurt.

“I’m not hungry.”

He furrows his brow. “You alright?”

“Mhm.” She looks around the room, everyone busy getting back to work, light chatter passing among them. “Uh, actually, I uh, I have to tell you something.” Y/n tries to swallow the lump in her throat with no luck.

“Okay…” He shuts the laptop and gives her his full attention.

“Okay, um—”

“What the fuck!?” The room freezes as everyone turns toward Jeff. “Harry someone’s got a hold of your song!”

Harry scrambles to his manager, complete shock on his face as they both stare down at Jeff’s phone. “Fuck.” They start to play a video, the sound of a girl screaming, with Harry’s unconsented voice playing in the background, fills the room. “How the hell did this happen?” He’s gritting through his teeth, neck red, veins bulging in his hands as he rips the phone out of Jeff’s hand. “HOW? Someone answer me!”

Y/N considers keeping quiet. Playing innocent. What good will it do to confess anyway? It’s not like it’ll undo what she’s done.

Sarah chimes in from across the room, “It looks like it happened half an hour ago. That’s when this video I’m looking at was posted.”

Y/n’s staring down at her lap, holding her head up with her fingers pressed into her temples when Harry slings himself back into the chair next to her.

“All that work, all that fucking work,” he nearly growls, “for some cunt to spread my unfinished song around for a buck.”

Y/n peers up to the room, a completely different picture compared to five minutes ago. Now there’s talk of lawyers and pressing charges while everyone shuffles around. Jeff slams the door as he steps out with his phone to his ear, and y/n knows she can’t claim denial, it’ll only make things worse.

“Uh, Harry?”

“What is it?” He doesn’t look at her, eyes glaring at his phone while another video plays of a group of people reacting to his song. “Glad they fucking like it.”

“Harry?”

“What, y/n?”

She shrinks under his gaze, mouth dry as she forces her confession out. “I uh, this is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m so, so sorry. And I’ll do anything—I know I can’t fix it—but...”

Harry’s tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing in on her as a morbid silence forms a little bubble around them. “Go on,” he whispers with grit, “finish what you were gonna say.”

She stutters, desperately trying to figure him out. “I’m just sorry. It was an accident.”

“An accident? How did you even manage to do this?”

“I—”

“Do you have any idea what this accident means, y/n?”

She reluctantly shakes her head no.

“How the fuck did you do this?”

“I—I don’t know...I was taking a break from my paper, and, I don’t know Harry.” She’s in tears now, warm and salty as they spill down her cheeks. Her mouth wobbles around another apology, but no sounds make it out.

“Fix it.”

“What?”

He stands up, yanking his laptop off the table, pausing to glare at her one last time. “I said, to fix it.” With that he storms across the room, slinging the door open just as Jeff reenters.

“Harry, your attorney—”

“Forget it.” He turns around and points his phone towards y/n silently sobbing in the corner. “She’s gonna handle it.” He takes one step out into the hall and stops, spinning on his heels to face the studio. “Don’t speak to me until you do.”

Mitch’s guitar that was fixed and propped against the wall, crashes to the floor when Harry slams the door.

Chatter passes around the room one more time, only now everyone seems to be in agreeance—that girl never should have been allowed in the studio, and maybe, Harry should break up with her.

***

Early morning rain fell outside Harry’s apartment. It was still dark, street lamps burning through the fog in the city below. His home fills with coffee as he pours his fifth cup; the prior four never offering more than a few sips before he had abandoned them somewhere, the counter, mantle, bookshelf, because he can’t talk without his hands.

Y/n sits on his couch. It’s velvet and pink and too big for one person. She hated it the first time he invited her over. If he breaks up with her, she’s going to tell him how ugly it is.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” She’s exhausted. She hadn’t hesitated to drive over when he finally responded to one of her hundreds of texts in the week since the mishap. But now she regrets it. They’ve been going in circles with the same argument for the past four hours. She’s convinced he invited her over just to be mean. She sighs, rubbing her temples. “I said I was sorry. You know that I’m sorry. And you know that I never, ever in a million years, would have done something like this on purpose.”

“I’m allowed to be angry with you. I have every right to be.”

“Do you, though?” She straightens up on his ugly couch and looks at him leaning against the doorframe that leads into the kitchen. “Aren’t you a little tired of hating me? God Harry, everyone else in the whole world has moved on except you.”

“It’s not everyone else’s song, is it? It’s not everyone else’s months and months of hard work. It’s not everyone else’s unfinished art? Nobody else is having to deal with a girlfriend that is so careless, so thoughtless, that she actually managed to leak my song!”

“Stop raising your voice at me!”

“You had no business snooping around my computer anyway! I told you you could work on your fucking paper, not to go prying around my personal shit!”

“You know what,” she scoffs, shooting up off the couch, “this argument is so pointless. You didn’t want me here so we could talk. You just wanted to torture me because you’re mad that people don’t love your stupid song.”

“What the fuck did you say?”

She brushes his shoulder as she passes by him, and a drip of his coffee spills onto his hand. He curses, and follows her into the kitchen where he lays his final cup down on the island.

“You’re being a baby because people aren’t fawning over you like they usually do.” She shrugs and slings her bag over her shoulder. “It’s not your best song, Harry.”

The veins in his neck strain against his flaming skin. His cheeks are sucked in, and if he bites down on the skin any harder he’ll puncture his face. “Get the fuck out.”

“I was already leaving, dumb ass.” She strides by him once more, practically feeling the heat steaming off his body. When she gets to the front door, she pauses with her hand on the knob. “Your couch is hideous, by the way. Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you have to buy shitty looking stuff.”

When she slams the door behind her, the apartment shakes, and cold coffee spills from each cup.

***

It’s nearing five a.m. when y/n backs out of the complex. Her wipers race across the windshield, but do nothing against the downpour wreaking havoc in the city. She does her best to stay on what she assumes is her side of the road, swerving to the right each time headlights blind her.

“Shit.” Nothing is open, and she can’t even see where it would be safe to pull over to let the rain pass. But her home isn’t that far, and traffic isn’t too bad.

She comes to a stop at a red light, only to realize she missed a left turn she should’ve made a minute ago. “Damn it. Fucking hell.”

As soon as the light turns green, she spins the wheel to make a U-turn, and if it hadn’t been for the rain, and her own clouded mind, and Harry’s voice echoing in her ears, she might have seen the truck who didn’t even try to avoid her.

***

It’s the headache from hell that wakes her up. And it’s the sterile smell of hospital that jogs her memory. And it’s a nurse not much older than y/n that says something about you’re lucky to be alive.

She’s poked and prodded and asked a thousand questions before her IV is adjusted and a pill to ease one of the many pains scratching her body is handed to her in a small plastic cup. A police officer repeats half of this process, and somewhere in the mess of her reality, she learns that the other driver was sending a text to his wife when he plowed into her car. He’s at home and she’s here. Lucky to be alive.

She made calls to her mom and friends, and even managed to type out a decent email to her professors for her upcoming absence in class.

When she automatically pulled up Harry’s name on her phone, the last text he sent, the one inviting her over so he could make her more miserable than she already was, sat there in all its taunting glory.

What is she even supposed to say? Hey, I know you hate my existence right now, but I’m lying here in a hospital bed with bandages wrapped around my head. It’d be cool if you stopped by.

It’s not long before the sun pops up and reminds y/n of just how early it is. The clouds part, and it’s like it had never even rained, like it had never even been dark for hours, and if she closes her eyes, y/n can pretend that the past week hadn’t even happened.

***

“How are you feeling today?” The nurse checks y/n’s IV, humming after her question.

“Just sore. Ready to get out of here.”

“We’ve started the paperwork, so shouldn’t be too long. Who’s coming to get you?”

Y/n blinks, feeling stupid she hadn’t thought this far ahead. She doesn’t even have a car anymore. The nurse looks over the computer monitor, waiting for a response.

“Uh, my friend.”

“Awesome. Dr. Kirby has to come check on you one last time before you leave. I’ll go see if he can stop by now, if you want to let your friend know.”

As soon as the nurse is out the door, y/n scrambles to turn her phone back on, and once it is, her lock screen is filled with missed calls and unanswered texts.

She’ll respond later; gives her something to do in the car to occupy her in front of Harry.

She can’t call him. Harry’s not a monster, although the past week doesn’t exactly prove her case, but she knows he wouldn’t refuse to come get her. If anything, he’ll be annoyed she didn’t tell him about the accident sooner. But she’s too emotional to deal with hearing his voice.

She types out a text recounting her last 24 hours, along with the name of the hospital. He immediately reads it, and a moment later he’s trying to call.

To: Harry

I’m too tired to talk rn

She lies. And it works.

From: Harry

I’ll be there as fast as i can

***

“Baby?”

Y/n cracks her eyes open, irritated she never quite fell asleep. Confused as to why Harry’s calling her baby. Angry that she cares. And the next words out of his mouth are ones she’d been predicting.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve dropped everything. You’ve been here all alone, shit. Are you okay? What hurts?”

He’s hovering over her, fidgeting, unsure if he can touch her.

“I’m fine now. Just sore. And tired.”

“Fuck I can’t believe this, I—”

“The doctor already said I can go. I’m not allowed to walk out on my own, so, you need to let the nurse know you’re here. She’ll take me down in a wheelchair.”

“Baby I’m so sorry-”

“No, Harry. You would still be busy hating my guts right now—”

“Hate you? I don’t hate you?”

“Well you did a great job this week making me feel otherwise.”

Harry sighs, gripping the bed frame and dropping his chin to his chest. When he looks back up he has tears brimming his eyes. “I’m sorry,” his voice cracks. “I know I’ve been an ass this week. I—you were right. I took out my anger from no one lovin’ the song on you.”

“Well it’s not no one. A lot of people did. And it’s unfinished anyway. You wouldn’t enjoy a meal if it was only cooked halfway.”

He nods, but y/n knows he’s only accepting her words because of the situation.

“You mean so much more to me than a leaked song. I’m sorry I treated you like shit. And that I—I made you think I hated you. You have every right to hate me.”

“You annoy the hell out of me, but I don’t hate you.”

His lips twitch, but a few tears slide down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” She takes his hand off the rail and smoothes her thumb across his knuckles. “You can make it up to me by getting me out of here.”

“I can do that.” He kisses the top of her head and hits the remote to call for the nurse.

“You can really kiss me, y’know. I’m not gonna break.”

He’s hesitant, but slowly lowers his head to press his lips to hers. He’s timid, and his lips are still damp from tears, but it’s more relieving than either of them would ever admit.

The nurse ends their moment when she pops in the room, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. “Hi, you must be y/n’s friend.”

“Friend?” He peers down at y/n, suggestion lacing the word. “Care to explain?”

“Not really, I’m so tired.”

“Mhm.” He clicks his tongue, supporting her arm as she swings her legs off the bed. Once she’s standing and steady, he tucks her hair behind her ear and bends down so his mouth can graze her lobe. “Since we’re just friends, I guess you’ll have to sleep on my ugly couch.”

#requests #requested #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #cherryyharryy

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fiftyshadesgrl · 3 years ago

Text

I ALMOST DO PART 7

Part 6 here

My masterlist here

Tag list is open

Part 7

Jason's pov

I look at the clock on the waiting room wall, it's been three hours since I brought y/n's lifeless body into the emergency entrance. Three hours filled with worry, pacing, anger, sadness, you name it. Chuck still hadn't showed up and I tried calling him several times but it went straight to his voice mail. He must still be at the police station. I paced around the waiting room several more times until I heard "family for y/n y/n?"

I turned and saw a doctor in scrubs holding a clip board, I rushed towards him. "How is she? Is she okay?"

"Come, let's talk in a more private area." He motioned behind him, I followed him into a small area with two chairs. My heart was beating out of my chest, thoughts of the worst thing possible going through my mind. He sat down in front of me, set his clipboard down and sighed. "Ms. Y/n sustained alot of damage to her liver and spleen. There were several lacerations that needed surgery to repair. She has four broken ribs, her ankle will also need surgery to repair but that will have to happen after she's more stable. The one thing that concerns me is the swelling in her brain."

I balled my fists up and held them against my eyes fighting back the tears. "What does that mean?"

"Well, the swelling can cause a number of things. Seizures, brain damage, and in the worst case death. We have given her medicine to stop the swelling and she has to have a couple of units of blood. She is on a ventilator to keep her body from working so hard to breathe for her."

"Is she going to die?" I didnt want to ask but I had to know. I had to at least try to prepare for it.

He sighed and shook his head, "right now, If the swelling goes down in her brain then I think she will be okay. It's waiting game right now to see if her body responds to the medication."

I nod at him, my mouth so dry that I hardly could form words. "Can I see her?"

He nodded, "of course but just know she may or may not be able to hear you. She's in ICU, so only one visitor at a time just in case she has other family coming."

"It's just me." My voice was unrecognizable to myself.

My body was on robot mode as I stood and followed the doctor to the ICU, he stopped in front of a sliding glass door that was open but a curtain was halfway pulled. "A nurse will come by shortly to check on her."

I nodded but hesitated on walking past the curtain. When I finally did I wasn't prepared for the sight in front of me. I slowly made my way to her bedside, "Jesus y/n." A large tube protruded from her mouth that was attached to the breathing machine, a small one ran from her nose I don't know what for. She had multiple IV lines in both arms. Her eyes were swelled shut, her lip had stitches in it dried blood was also on the side of her mouth. Every exposed inch of her skin that I could see was bruised and had cuts or scrapes on it.

I pulled a chair right up beside her bed, I interlocked my fingers with hers and her hand was cold. The moment I touched her the dam inside me burst. Resting my forehead on her bed beside her arm I cried, hard. For the first time maybe in my whole life I sobbed, my entire body shaking as the wails spewed from my lips. If I had never broke her heart so many years ago, if I hadn't have lied, if I hadn't have been afraid of the future, this wouldn't have happened.

After what ever time had passed because I had no idea, I lifted my head to look at her lifeless body. "I'm, so fuckin sorry. This...this is all m-my fault." She never moved, never flinched at my words. "God damn it, if I wasn't such a coward you would've been safe. We would've been married, maybe have even had children by now. But I lied to you, and I'm so fuckin sorry. I don't know if you can hear me so I won't explain everything now but when you wake up, and you will wake up. I'll tell you everything. I will make this right." I kissed the back of her hand letting my lips linger for several seconds before whispering, "I love you, I never stopped and I'm not leaving your side ever again."

The slow hum and beeping of the machines kept me sane, I knew she was alive as long as they were still beeping and humming. A nurse walked in and began to check the tubes and lines connected to y/n, "There's a gentleman here to see her."

I was on high alert now, "who is it?"

"I don't know, I was just informed before I came in here that she had a visitor." She walked to the curtain, "ill send him in, then you'll have to leave."

I wasn't about to leave her side, if that son of a bitch had the nerve to show up here it would be a huge mistake. The curtain pulled back and I relaxed when Chuck came through. His face went pale and tears stood in his eyes. "My god." He whispered as he made his way slowly to stand beside me.

"I know. It's so hard to see her like this." I whispered back.

"I didn't know it was this bad." His eyes never left her face. I offered for him to sit but he refused. "I'm not staying long. The cops are gonna be watching the garage and their house in the city. They wanna talk to y/n to, if she wakes up."

"When." I corrected through gritted teeth, "when she wakes up."

"Son, we have to prepare...."

I shook his hand from my shoulder, "no, no we don't. Shes gonna wake up, she will. I gave up on her once, I'm not gonna make that mistake again." Chuck sighed beside me but said nothing, "it's my fault you know. All this is my fault."

"How in the hell is this your fault jason?" Chuck never used my real name unless he was serious. He always called me boy or son, my words hit a nerve I guess.

"I should've seen this coming. When we were talking in the office today, that bastard walked in and...the look on her face. Even when she was cleaning up her arm in the bathroom, I saw it in her eyes but I didn't put two and two together until they drove off."

Chuck shook his head, "you can't blame yourself for that. You didn't know."

"But that's the thing, I knew something wasn't right but I let her go anyways. I know her, better than anyone and I let her down again. It was right there in front of my face and I ignored it."

"Look son, just because you saw the signs but didn't put the pieces together, doesn't mean its your fault. Hell, if anyone is to blame its me. I knew he used to do this to her and I didn't say anything or put it together either."

His words sent fire through my veins, "he's done this to her before?"

He nodded, "I don't know to what extent but her dad used to say he hit her when he was drinking."

"Why am I just hearing about this now?"

He shrugged, "I made a promise to not mention it."

The nurse walked back in, "I'm sorry only one at a time is allowed back here."

Chuck smiled warmly at the young woman, "it's alright darlin, I'm leaving." He looked me in the eyes, "call me if anything changes."

I nodded, "same to you."

He walked to y/n's bedside and placed and gentle kiss on her forehead, "see ya kiddo." Then with that he left, leaving me to my thoughts and rage. The same nurse came back in a few minutes later, "visiting hours are over."

"I'm not.leaving her." I state matter of factly.

"Sir, it's protocol that visiting hours end at..."

"I don't care what the protocols are, I'm not leaving." I glare at the nurse.

She breathes deep, "I will have no choice but to call security."

I don't need this shit, "please, I let her down once. I promised her I wouldnt leave her. Don't make me break that promise again."

She seemed like a nice girl, she thought about my words for a couple of seconds and made her way into the room to check the monitors. "My shift ends at eight in the morning, I can't promise you the next nurse will be generous."

"Thank you." I breathed a sigh of relief knowing I would at least be able to stay until eight. After that I would have to come up with a new plan to convince the next nurse to let me stay.

@missamberv @an-unhealthy-obsession1993 @vicmc624 @tftumblin @justanotherwinchester @jesseswartzwelder @holylulusworld @fangirl199812 @emerloveskate

#jason momoa #jasonmomoa #jason momoa smut

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animereaderinsertwriter · 3 years ago

Text

Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part III

Part I

Part II

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

After that night, it became increasingly hard for (Y/N) to leave, and for Eren to let her do so.

Something between them had changed. There were moments— when Eren would press feather-light kisses against her forehead, when he would casually leave a cup of her favorite tea where she would find it— where (Y/N) felt as though her heart might burst. It was all the little things that baffled her, all the ways in which he seemed to understand exactly how she felt; it was as though he knew her more than she knew herself. On the mornings that she would wake in his bed, sleepy and sticky and wholly content, (Y/N) wondered what it would be like to have this life forever.

Other days— on days like today— she was reminded exactly why that could never be, and it broke her heart.

Today, they had planned a romantic dinner in the park, an evening under the stars. It was supposed to be something special, a little getaway just for the two of them; they had wanted to leave as soon as (Y/N) was relieved from her patrol, so Eren had moved her things to his place, hoping that they could leave together from there for their evening alone.

In and of itself, that was fine… but when (Y/N) came in, covered head-to-toe in viscous Creature blood, Eren was furious.

“And you call me a monster,” he growled, looking her up and down with hate in his eyes. “I can’t believe you.”

He stood from his seat on the sofa, and (Y/N) began to back away, still wary from the fight she had narrowly escaped from unscathed. Her every instinct told her that she should run, fire a round of silver bullets into his chest, but she steeled herself, doing neither.

“It’s not my fault— they were attacking a civilian,” she told him as he stalked towards her, his face twisted into a horrific scowl. “I tried to stop them— tried to find out what was going on— but then they came at me with their claws, and I was left with no choice.”

“There is always a choice,” he snarled, and it was then that anger filled (Y/N) from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. "They were probably terrified of you— how could you possibly blame them for lashing out?"

(Y/N) grit her teeth.

“This, from the man who thought genocide was his only option to the same problem?”

Eren made a low, warning sound in the back of his throat, but (Y/N) pressed on.

“You would rather me have died?” she demanded, stepping into his space. “Would it have pleased you more for my body to bleed out on the pavement, ripped to shreds by an aggressive werewolf? Would you even care, or would you just find the next blood bag and move on with your life?”

“Maybe so,” he shot back, “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your insufferable mouth.”

That stung— but if there was one thing (Y/N) knew how to do, it was to strike back twice as hard as she had been struck.

“Fine then,” she said, turning on her heel. “I won’t bother you any longer. I’ll go out and find someone who actually wants my company, someone who’ll fuck me good and proper over the counter at some hole-in-the-wall bar over on Easy Street, someone younger, with a nicer cock and less fucking baggage— ”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence, or even walk a single step further— Eren grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to him, his fist painfully tight against her scalp.

“Wanna say that again, to my face?” he asked, tilting her head back.

“I’ll go find someone else to fuck me,” she spat, struggling in vain against him. “I’ll spread my legs for the next available schmuck in the closest bar I can find, so you can hear me scream his name and not yours.”

It was a low blow, to threaten a vampire’s claim on something they had previously assumed had belonged to them, but (Y/N) didn’t care. She had almost died today, and she’d be damned if she was going to take shit from anyone about what she had to do to survive. If Eren wanted a fight, she would damn sure give him one.

“Like hell you will,” he told her, pulling her head back so that she had to strain to remain standing. “You’re mine. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood— you are my Companion.”

"I belong to no one!"

Those words ripped from her throat and echoed throughout the empty house, and it was then that Eren stopped, looking at her with calculation in his gaze.

"You're right," he said, releasing her hair. "No mortal can serve two masters, lest they love one and despise the other; an archaic religious concept, but an accurate one nonetheless. You've made it abundantly clear where your loyalty lies. I was a fool for thinking otherwise."

(Y/N) began to tremble. "Eren, what are you saying?"

"I release you from our pact," he replied coldly, his eyes so dull and lifeless that it sent a chill down her spine. "No longer are you bound to be my wine-press— I free you from me."

"Eren—"

"Go," he commanded, and (Y/N) felt terribly, horribly empty.

Once, he would have told her to come freely, go safely, and leave something of the happiness she brought him; now, he gave her a cold dismissal, and it frightened her more than she was willing to admit. Still, she went, feeling hollow and used, and she didn't bother to shut the door behind her as she turned to walk home, weary from the day and sick from fighting.

***

Armin had lived for a very long time, but even so, he had yet to meet anyone so foul of temper as Eren when the Hunger was on him.

"Eren, you have to feed."

The vampire, as ill in health as in temper, glared weakly at him. "I'm not hungry."

"But you are Hungry, and don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. Look, if this is about that girl—"

"I told you not to speak of her!"

Ah, so it was about her. By the looks of him, it had been two weeks since Eren had fed; Armin would bet that he hadn't seen her in the same amount of time.

"If I need to, I'll drag her here to make up with you myself," said Armin testily, "I refuse to watch my best friend starve himself because he refuses to feed on anyone else."

"You will not touch her."

Armin rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything further. He just patted Eren's arm in farewell and set about finding the little lady who was the root cause of his current consternation.

It took longer than Armin had anticipated to find the young woman who had, for all intents and purposes, completely unraveled Eren's composure; her scent, while thick and memorable in Eren's apartment, was hard to track otherwise. Armin spent two hours just wandering the city while trying to catch a breath of it here or there, and when he finally did manage to catch a whiff of her scent and follow it to her, he understood exactly why it had been so hard to track her down.

The girl was a Hunter, of all things.

When Armin found her, she was knee-deep in sewage, her knife embedded to the hilt in the skull of what appeared to be some species of winged reptile. Armin, having been a tad desperate and not actually having been expecting to find anything when he lifted the lid to the man-hole on 32nd and Main, was surprised to say the least— and when (Y/N) ripped her knife free and readjusted her stance into a defensive one directed at him, his surprise turned to intrigue.

“Er, hello there,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t suppose you’ll take my word for it that I just want to chat, will you?”

Curiously, the words gave the woman pause. She relaxed her stance ever-so-slightly, and then her eyes lit up with recognition.

“Armin Arlert?” she queried, craning her neck up to see him. “Is that you?”

This one grows curiouser and curiouser, he thought, but responded affirmatively.

“Can you give me a bit, then?” she asked, kicking the corpse of the Creature she’d just killed. “I’m not exactly fit for company. Perhaps we could meet later for a discussion over tea?”

“I’m afraid it’s urgent,” he said as she knelt to decapitate her prey— likely for proof of victory. “I think you know why I’m here, so you understand that time is of the essence.”

She didn’t look up at him as she replied.

“If this is about Eren, then I don’t have time to talk.”

Her tone was hard, bitter, and matter-of-fact, and it reminded Armin so much of Jean that it hurt… but just like Jean, Armin would bet that she could be won over by appealing to her inherent sense of human decency

“He’s suffering (Y/N),” he said, awkwardly crouching above the manhole so that she could better see the truth written in his eyes. “He won’t feed.”

“That’s hardly my problem.”

And oh, how well Armin knew that state of mind. If there was one thing Eren Jaeger knew how to do, it was push away the people who loved him most. Armin had dealt with that particularly lovely quirk of his for centuries, and it never got easier to deal with no matter how much time passed. If anything, it got more difficult the older they both got.

“When you’re the solution to a problem, you become a part of it whether you like it or not,” Armin replied, patient and understanding. “He cares for you.”

(Y/N) looked up at him then, fury in her eyes.

“He hurt me.”

Armin shrugged. “He hurts everyone he cares about. It’s just who he is. Nothing comes for free— least of all the love and loyalty of someone as old and as powerful as Eren.”

“Your heart may be toughened to his meanness,” she told him, the head of the creature she’d slain in her hands, “But mine is not, and I don’t like him well enough to willfully remain for him to use as an emotional punching bag.”

At that, Armin couldn’t help but let loose a wry grin.

“No,” he said, “I should think not; but I do think you love him well enough to make sure he doesn’t starve himself to death because he can’t have you.”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment, then she crossed her arms.

“I won’t come crawling to him. He’s going to have to come to me.”

Armin grimaced. He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

“Is that at all negotiable?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

Well, there was nothing for it.

“And you will let him feed if he comes to you?”

(Y/N) thought, then nodded. “If he proves himself deserving.”

Armin couldn't help himself; he laughed. Eren might have met his match in this one.

"Very well. I'll work my magic, and you work yours."

She nodded and bade him farewell, but before Armin left, he paused.

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

With that, he left her, ready to take Eren by the ear and throw him at her if he had to.

***

(Y/N)'s heart was racing as she opened the door, knowing good and well who would be behind it.

After her little talk with Armin— and the near heart attack he had given her in the process— she had called in to Zeke and told him she needed to go home to deal with an emergency. A replacement for her patrols had been sent, and she had come home to wash the grim from her skin, making herself as presentable as possible with the time she had. (Y/N) was worried, so worried, that the filth she had been wading in earlier would have left a lingering stench, or even that it had affected the taste of her; she had scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was raw, hoping to erase every last remnant of her day from her skin…but as it turned out, she needn't have bothered.

Two, three, four hours later, and Eren hadn't shown— it was only now, right at the six hour mark, that he had decided to come to her.

Needless to say, (Y/N) was… less than pleased, but when she opened the door to find Eren pale and drawn, with dark circles beneath his eyes, her heart softened ever-so-slightly. It seemed that Armin was right; he had been suffering.

"You look like shit," she told him quietly, opening her door widely to let him in.

"I assure you, I feel worse," Eren grumbled, but stepped in as she closed the door behind him.

For a long, awkward moment, they just looked at each other, silent and unsure. It was unsettling how unlike himself Eren seemed; he was almost soft when he looked at her, and (Y/N) didn't know how to feel about it. Eventually, though, like two opposite ends of a magnet, they were drawn together, and Eren brushed a piece of hair back from her face.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and rough. (Y/N) caught his hand in hers before it could fall from her hair, and she pressed it against her chest, keeping it trapped there, touching the skin above her beating heart.

"Hey."

They watched each other a moment more before the dam broke between them, and they both spoke at once.

"I'm sorry."

A shared grin, a shy laugh— and then (Y/N) said what they both were thinking.

"You need to feed first, and talk later," she told him, her hand still clasped in his. "You're not off the hook, but I doubt we can have any real conversation with you like this."

Eren nodded gratefully, tugging at her wrist— his usual biting spot— but (Y/N) shook her head, indicating her neck. The thickest, richest blood, she knew, would come from there; and if there was ever a time to be generous with the placement of Eren's bite, she figured that it would be now.

The worst of it was over quickly. There was a brief sting at the intrusion of razor-sharp fangs, and then the vaguely uncomfortable feeling of having something poking down into places that decidedly should not be poked at all, but then (Y/N) quickly eased into the rhythm of the act, focusing wholly on the way Eren's lips felt against her skin. In a few moments, she would become pleasantly light-headed, and then Eren would pull away and look at her like she'd hung the stars. Oh, how she'd missed that look! (Y/N) found herself longing for it even before she quite realized it.

And then, without warning, a vision came, and (Y/N) was swept into another world entirely.

The evening sky rolled endlessly out towards the horizon; it seemed to go on forever, sparkling with more stars than (Y/N) had ever seen before. The full moon was so bright that it cast the whole world in what seemed like silver sunlight, and (Y/N) wondered how anyone could sleep on a night such as this. It was far too beautiful an experience to miss.

Alongside her— alongside Eren, through whose eyes she saw the world— strode Armin and two older-looking cadets who she recognized from previous memories as Reiner and Berthold. Eren was feeling anxious over something, and Reiner and Berthold were… well, they were kind. Reiner especially seemed to be like an older brother, and Eren admired him.

"You'll do just fine tomorrow," said Reiner, placing a large, warm hand on Eren's shoulder. "I'm certain of it."

The memory ended, and (Y/N) came back to herself as Eren's tongue laved over the wounds his fangs had left in her neck, sealing them.

"See anything?" he asked, his breath warm against her skin, and (Y/N) nodded.

"You loved them, too," she said softly, remembering the fondness Eren had felt as though it had been her own. "You loved the Hunters that tried to take everything from you, and— and I think they loved you, too."

Eren pulled away from her, and it was then that she saw the tears shining in his eyes.

"Yes," he replied, his voice broken. "We were children. How could we not love each other as God intended? Hate was never in our nature; it was an inheritance that we couldn't escape."

He paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he told her, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I lost my temper. I forget— I forget that you're not them."

And (Y/N) understood. She understood that no matter how many centuries passed, there would be wounds that just wouldn't heal for Eren. He would lash out at things that wouldn't make sense to anyone who hadn't experienced the horrors of war as he had. Suddenly, she felt petty for having lashed out as she had, and guilt threatened to rise up and choke her.

"You're forgiven," she replied, leaning into his touch. "It takes two to tango— I shouldn't have baited you like I did. I knew how badly that would hurt you, and that's exactly why I said it."

At that, Eren cracked a grin.

"I expect nothing less from a Kirschtein. Your grandfather would have punched me square in the jaw— and as big as that bastard got when we were older, he probably would have put me on my ass."

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh, and Eren joined her, their combined joy swelling until there was nothing else in the world but their happiness.

How they started kissing, neither one of them would be able to say afterwards, but in the grand scheme of things, it hardly mattered. Their love was too large to contain, too much to hold back— and it was love, (Y/N) realized, though she hadn't quite put words to it yet. She loved Eren Jaeger, a Creature, a monster, as much as her grandfather before her had and more. She loved him with a desperation that felt like being knocked over by an ocean wave and plunged into depths where her feet no longer touched the sand. She loved him more than she had ever loved anyone before.

And, as he placed her gently on her bed that was barely big enough for two, divesting himself of his shirt above her, (Y/N) thought that maybe she didn't mind it so much as long as he loved her in return.

"I missed you," said Eren, dropping kisses by her ear as he unhooked her bra. "I missed this."

"Me too," she gasped as his mouth wandered to her nipple, her hands fisting in his hair. "Oh, God, I missed you too."

The time for words was soon gone, however; Eren's sinful, sinful mouth traveled lower and lower until he was kissing at the insides of her thighs, parting them to access what lay between, and (Y/N) threw her head back as he spread her open with his hands and sucked brazenly at her clit.

How long he spent there, worshipping her sex, (Y/N) had no idea; all she knew was that she came once from his mouth on her and a second time from his fingers inside her, and when he finally, mercifully withdrew, she was broken down to the simplest parts of herself; there was nothing left but an affection so deep that it threatened to overtake her if she didn't let it out, and she did the only thing she knew to do to release the overwhelming pressure that was building in her chest as Eren pushed his big, veiny cock into her.

She told him what she should have said a long time ago.

"Oh, Eren," she gasped as his cockhead shoved deep inside her. "I love you."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Eren went unnaturally still. He looked at her with pupils blown wide inside emerald eyes, and his fangs slightly distended; in any other situation, (Y/N) might have laughed at how surprised he seemed, but it seemed as though she were frozen in time, unable to do anything but stare earnestly up at them, hoping he understood how much she cared for him.

"You… what?"

"I love you," she repeated, her body moving without her permission to roll her hips up into him, moving his cock even further inside her. "Please, Eren, I need—"

He cut her off with a forceful, bruising kiss, and his hips started making slow, deep thrusts inside her, her legs hiked up over his shoulders.

"Again," he said against her lips."Say it again."

"I love you."

Another thrust or two, a hand circling her wounded throat.

"Again."

"I love you, Eren."

"Again."

This time, it was only a whisper.

"I love you," she said, and Eren began fucking her in earnest.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he told her as he thrust hard and deep inside her. "You're every man's dream, a nirvana the damned such as myself were never meant to reach. (Y/N), you are everything, and I—"

He seemed to choke on the words, and (Y/N) kissed him as he tried to regain his composure.

"I don't deserve you," he said, shaking with the force of their passion. "I don't deserve your love."

It's not about deserving, she wanted to say, It never was, but then she was coming again, her climax contracting her walls around her lover, and it was all she could do to remain conscious as Eren fucked her relentlessly through it all, chasing his own high.

It was only later, after a shower and something to eat that they finally spoke again. They were back in bed, and Eren's arm was wrapped around her, as though he were afraid to let her go for even a moment; truthfully, (Y/N) thought he was asleep, but then his breath tickled her ear as he said,

"I love you, angel."

And that, (Y/N) thought, had been worth it all, in the end.

#aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot #aot fanfiction #eren x reader #vampire!eren jaeger #aot smut

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