#even though you put on a brave face and pretend that you've moved on and it doesn't bother you
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pocketgalaxies · 2 years ago
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I've got my eye on you. I'm still here.
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stardust-and-snickerdoodles · 3 months ago
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tired and i'm awake
fandom: Chicago Med
pairing: Connor Rhodes x Reader
summary: You've kept your chronic pain a secret from Connor since you started dating. But fate has other plans for you, and an untimely accident leads to him finding out about your condition.
tags/warnings: angst, injury, burns, hurt/comfort, chronic pain/illness
word count: 3024
a/n: this one's for all my EDS/POTS combo girlies
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When you were young, the doctors said it was “growing pains.” That eventually it would go away, that it was only temporary, take an Advil.
Then you got older, and it was your period. Even though the pain was constant and all over, somehow every doctor put it down to your cycle. Sure, it was worse when you were menstruating, but it didn’t disappear when you weren’t.
Sometimes, you were “making it up” or “drug seeking.” ER visits, annual physicals, all proved fruitless. Eventually, it was all just too much to handle. The constant doctors’ visits, the unending questions with no answers. You’re tired.
Even when you lay on the bathroom floor, curled around yourself and sobbing, you refuse to go to the doctor. You know it won’t amount to anything, just another bill and insurance paperwork. You manage on your own with 3 extra strength Tylenol or a heating pad or just laying in bed until it mostly subsides. Then you can get up and pretend to be okay again.
So, it was a bit of a surprise to everyone who knows of your issues when you started dating a surgeon. Hell, you even surprised yourself. But Connor is… different. He’s kind and understanding and patient. Still, your previous negative experiences prevent you from telling him about the chronic pain you experience, or any of the other problems that come along with it.
You’ve been dating now for about six months and you couldn’t be happier. Connor’s hours are busy and long, but you look forward to the end of every day when you can see him. Even if it means putting on a brave face when your joints ache. You moved in together about a month ago, and it’s a little harder to hide the pain now, but you manage. You don’t want to be just another patient for him to deal with.
Today, you have a feeling it’s going to be a little more difficult to put on your façade. Your knees and hips have been acting up lately. Everything feels… a bit looser than usual, like the tissues between your joints are made of thin string, ready to break at any movement. Each movement feels as though you’re going to rip yourself apart, limb from limb. It’s all you can do not to cry out when you finally pry yourself out of bed in the morning. Connor is already gone, having left sometime in the middle of the night, off to work his shift at the ED. You hope beyond hope that the pain will have subsided by the time he gets home tonight.
You hope that maybe a warm bath with some Epsom salts will help, and take short, shuffling steps to the bathroom, walking near the wall just in case. Each footfall sends shooting pain up your legs. You grit your teeth and manage to make it to the toilet, sitting down and reaching to turn the tap on the bath. Breathing in and out slowly, you remind yourself that you have this under control. You will survive this, it’s just pain. It’s just pain.
You stare as the tub fills with water, trying your best to compartmentalize and clear the pain away. Mind over matter, that’s what your mother always says. Easy for her, when she’s not the one in pain.
Feeling as though you might break with any sudden moves, you lower yourself into the warm bath, closing your eyes as the water surrounds you. It’s calming and smells like eucalyptus.
You linger until the water is cooled and your joints begin to protest from staying in one position too long. You wrap a fluffy robe around yourself, a gift from Connor after he saw the old ratty one you’d been using for years. It’s luxurious and soft, and probably cost him the equivalent of an entire week’s salary for you. Perks of dating a surgeon, you suppose.
Just standing has you feeling lightheaded, and you can feel your heart beating in your ears. For a moment the room darkens as spots fill your vision, but you just breathe in deeply until it subsides. Then you continue to take small steps back out to the bedroom, before placing yourself gingerly on the comforter.
Once you’re still and laying down, the pain begins to creep back in with force. It just reminds you that as much as you want to, you can’t ignore it. You can compartmentalize and convince yourself all you want, but you’re stuck with this.
Now, along with your hips and knees, your back and neck have begun to ache from sitting upright in the tub. You sigh and curl onto your side, your wet hair clinging to your neck. Five minutes, you tell yourself. Then I’ll get up and get dressed and dry my hair and… God, it’s all so much. How are you ever supposed to get all of that done when you feel like this? Still, you reprimand yourself and promise only five minutes of rest. Just until the aching diminishes somewhat.
You wake to the sound of the door unlocking. Night has fallen outside the window, leaving the apartment bathed in darkness.
So much for five minutes.
Connor walks in, looking tired and worn out, but still wearing a smile when he spots you curled up on the bed. You smile back, still groggy from your extended nap.
“Hey sweetheart,” he murmurs, setting his bag down before taking a seat next to you. “How was your day?”
“Good,” you lie easily. “How was work?”
Connor smooths some errant hairs away from your forehead before placing a soft kiss there. “Busy. But good. Did you shower? Your hair’s still wet.”
A fierce blush makes its way up your cheeks as you avoid his eyes. “Took a bath. I guess I just passed out after. Baths always take it out of me,” you half-joke.
Connor’s brow furrows and you can immediately sense the switch into “doctor mode.” He places the back of his hand on your forehead again. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” you reassure, pulling his hand down to your lips to plant a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “Do you want dinner? I can make something.” The ache in your joints begins to make itself known again, but you want to do something nice for Connor. You know how tired he is after his shifts.
“Sure,” Connor replies, but he’s still looking at you with concern.
You slowly sit up, trying to school your expression as something pinches in your hip. “Spaghetti? I think we have some noodles leftover from the other night; I can just make a quick sauce.”
Connor nods and stands with you. “I’m gonna go shower,” he states while pulling you into a loose hug. “Do you need anything before I go?”
You shake your head and breathe him in. He smells like the hospital, but underneath that is the gentle scent of his cologne that always relaxes you. “No, you go. I can handle it.”
Connor releases you and makes his way to the bathroom while you head to the kitchen. You feel incrementally better than this morning, the pain in your back and neck thankfully lessened. Your hips are the worst now, and the right one especially feels tenuous. Each step is shaky, but you push through it.
You’re grateful for the distraction of cooking as you work on dinner, but it’s not enough to totally take away the pain. As you stand over the stove you can still feel the pulsing in your knees, the unsteadiness in your hips, and the ache in your back is returning. You barely suppress a groan as your right hip nearly gives out.
Seconds later, the door to the bathroom opens, and Connor exits with just a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. For a moment you’re tempted to stop cooking altogether and take him right back to bed. But then your right hip protests yet again, and the thought quickly flees. You shoot Connor a smile as he comes up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. His chin rests on your shoulder and you tense imperceptibly. Illogical as it may seem, you’re worried maybe he’ll… feel your pain or something, if he gets too close.
“Smells good,” Connor murmurs, kissing the side of your neck.
“Grab some plates,” you reply, stirring the spaghetti sauce one more time before turning off the heat.
Connor’s arms leave you and you let out a breath. You grab some potholders from a nearby cabinet and pull the sauce off the stove.
As you make your way over to the table, your hip begins to feel even more unsteady than before. Each step is agony as you grip the saucepot, praying that your leg doesn’t give out now. Connor’s back is to you when suddenly you step wrong. Instantly, you feel a popping sensation in your hip and you stumble.
The pot goes flying, splattering sauce all over you and the kitchen. You crumble to the floor, a short cry leaving your lips. The sauce burns your thighs, uncovered thanks to the robe you still wear, but all you can feel is the burning pain in your hip. It feels… wrong.
It’s not exactly a new experience. A few years ago – with no help from your doctors – you finally realized that this type of pain means something is dislocated. In this case, your hip. It’s one of the worst to dislocate, since you have trouble getting it back in place on your own.
Connor immediately rushes toward you, calling your name in panic. “Are you okay? Oh god, what happened?”
You grit your teeth to stop from crying out again as you right yourself with your leg out in front of you. Your hand grips your right thigh, the pain from your dislocated hip shooting down your leg and making your toes numb.
Connor’s already pulling out his phone to call 911, obviously only seeing the burns on your legs from the hot sauce.
You reach out to grab his wrist to stop him from dialing. “I’m fine,” you insist, tears brimming in your eyes.
Connor levels you with a glare that would make anyone give in. “You just spilled scalding sauce all over yourself. You’re at least getting checked out at the ED.”
“Okay, okay, but… Can’t you just drive me?”
He must hear the pleading tone in your voice because he sets his phone down with a sigh. “Fine,” he surrenders. “Let’s get you cleaned up first so I can take a look.”
You nod as he stands to retrieve towels. Once his back is turned, you take mental stock of your hip. It doesn’t feel too badly dislocated, but it certainly needs to be put back sooner rather than later. Before you get a chance to do it yourself, Connor returns with wet towels. He immediately gets to work gingerly cleaning your skin. You can tell that you’ve at least got first-degree burns, maybe even second in some places. But you can’t get past the pain in your hip. If you could just get a moment alone so you could reset it…
You notice that Connor’s movements have stopped and you look to see what he’s doing. His brows are furrowed as he looks at your right leg, now clean of the sauce. “Doesn’t look too bad, but I still want to go to Med just to be sure. And…” Suddenly his eyes widen and his hands rest delicately on either side of your leg. You can’t help but flinch at the touch. “It looks like your hip is dislocated… God, that must hurt. Did you hit it on the ground when you fell?”
You bite your lip and shake your head. “It’s nothing,” you insist.
“Y/N,” Connor’s voice is firm. “We need to get this reduced. I’m calling an ambulance,” he says, pulling out his phone once more.
“No!” you cry. “I can take care of it!” Before he can stop you, you bend your knee outward, making a half-butterfly shape with your legs, then push down on it with your hands. Your hip pops back into place with an audible click and the relief is instant.
Connor is silent for a long moment as he stares at you, mouth agape.
You speak before he can, blabbering without much sense. “It’s fine, it happens a lot. I’m okay, I promise.”
Your boyfriend’s eyes are wide with concern and empathy. “What do you mean?” he whispers.
You shrug and take the wet towel from his hand, continuing to wipe off the sauce from your other thigh. This one’s not as bad as your right, but it’s still painful. “Nothing, Connor. I just… It happens sometimes, okay? Dislocating things, it’s not new to me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Connor’s voice is so full of hurt that you immediately regret keeping this from him.
“I don’t know,” you murmur, meeting his eyes. The tears in your own begin to fall down your cheeks. “I just… I’ve always dealt with it on my own. I didn’t want you to have to deal with it too. And I didn’t know if you’d believe me, no one ever believes me, and I didn’t want to lose you because of my broken body…” You’re rambling now, the adrenaline and pain making your words come out jumbled.
Connor scoots over to sit next to you, uncaring of the sauce that’s getting on his jeans. His arm wraps around you gently, and already you can feel that he’s treating you differently. Touching you like you’re… fragile. “Y/N… I would never not believe you about something like this. Have you gone to the doctor about it?”
A sob leaves your lips and you smile sarcastically. “Of course, I have, Connor. I’ve been to so many doctors and none of them have any answers. It’s always growing pains, or my period, or I’m faking it. Eventually I just gave up because, like I said, I can deal with it on my own.”
Connor is silent for a long while. Finally, he lifts your chin with his finger so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to deal with it on your own now. We’re together, and that means we tell each other these things. I won’t leave you because of something you can’t control, sweetheart. And I want you to find answers. We can find them together. Okay?”
You nod and Connor goes to dial 911 again. As he’s on the phone with the operator, you let the tears fall. The pain of the burns is finally hitting you, only adding to the existing pain you already feel. Connor’s words mean everything to you, but right now that’s all they are – words. How can you know he’ll stay with you after he finds out what this really is like? The constant pain, the days spent in bed, the agony of it all? How could anyone – how could Connor – ever want someone like you?
You don’t realize that Connor is done on the phone until his hand lands on your shoulder. “Babe?” his voice is a little louder than necessary, which tells you that he’s been trying to get your attention for a while.
“Sorry,” you mutter, using the back of your hand to wipe away errant tears.
Connor takes a deep breath, and you worry about what he’s going to say. “You can talk to me, you know?”
You nod, avoiding his eyes. “I know. But this… I don’t want to be just another person you have to take care of.” The sound of sirens grows loud outside the apartment building.
“Honey. Look at me,” Connor urges, lifting your chin again. “You are not just another patient to me. You never will be. Okay?”
“You don’t know,” you whisper, your voice suddenly hoarse. “Once you know what it’s like, how much help I’ll need… I don’t know what my life will be like in 10 years, hell, even in a year. I’m in pain all the time, and I don’t know if it will get worse, and I don’t want you to be burdened with that.”
Before Connor can answer, the intercom buzzes as the paramedics request entrance. Connor stands to let them in, and you bring your sore legs up so you can bury your head in your knees. The embarrassment of it all is starting to hit you as you realize that soon you’ll be at Med, surrounded by Connor’s colleagues. No doubt he’ll want to run a myriad of tests to figure out your underlying condition, and you’re not sure you have the energy for that right now.
You hear the door opening, followed by a couple pairs of footsteps and Connor’s voice getting closer. “Female, 27, post-fall and contact with hot liquid. Superficial partial thickness burns on the thighs. Right hip dislocated but already reduced.” You hold in a snort at his medical jargon describing your silly accident.
The paramedics aren’t anyone you know, but they’re nice enough as they examine the burns and apply saline-soaked gauze. You’re embarrassed by your lack of proper clothing, but they don’t seem to mind. You’re sure they’ve seen worse than a nearly-naked woman anyway.
They ask various questions while Connor watches nearby, eyes slightly narrowed as if to make sure they don’t hurt you further. Once you’re finally loaded up onto a stretcher, he returns to your side and holds your hand in a crushing grip.
“This is really unnecessary,” you mutter at him, squeezing his hand.
Connor looks down at you with a soft smile. “Doctor knows best, sweetheart.” He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay if you don’t want. As long as you get that hip x-rayed and those burns checked, I’ll be satisfied. We can figure out the rest later.”
You smile back, tears pricking your eyes again. “Thank you, Connor. For being here.”
He snorts out a laugh. “You really have to raise your standards, baby.”
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heich0e · 3 years ago
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first of all. I love the way you write makki. that piece was ughh, a stab to the chest. beautifully written :( I got another prompt for him if you don’t mind. the …
“you were always there when i needed you. let me repay the favor.“
lets pretend that this ask is not from three weeks ago <3
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highs and lows - part II of pieces hanamaki takahiro/reader (haikyuu!) word count: 3k tags: angst, hurt/comfort, pining, mentions of mental illness, alternatively titled pining hiro's redemption arc
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For as long as Takahiro can remember, his life has been marked by highs and lows.
His last year of middle school was a low, without question.
His best friend moved to another prefecture before the start of the year; his mom gave him a terrible haircut the day before classes resumed that haunted him for months; he didn't understand anything about polynomials, which made his math mark tank so badly he was worried he was going to be held back; and to top it all off, he found out that he was the only one of his friends who would be moving on to Aoba Johsai the next school year, so he'd have to build up his entire friend group from scratch.
Dragging himself out of bed every morning was a chore; he would put off his homework and assignments until the last minute until they could no longer be avoided; he ate scarcely; slept terribly; and sank well over 1000 hours into his favourite video game.
But his first year of high school, much to his own surprise, was a high.
He made the volleyball team; he built up his friend group again, arguably better than it had ever been; he grew into that haircut his mom gave him (and continued to give him); and he figured out how the hell to divide a polynomial.
He rode this high all the way into second year, and then eventually to third.
He had his friends, his kouhai, you; life as an upperclassman was great.
Until it wasn’t.
The volleyball team lost their shot at nationals in a devastating blow.
He didn't get into any of the universities to which he'd applied (not that he'd been expecting to, because he was pretty sure he’d tanked every entrance exam he sat.)
He watched Iwa prepare to go to Tokyo where he'd be studying kinesiology, already talking about the possibility of studying abroad in a few years' time; envied Mattsun as he geared up to start college in Sendai, leaving on the weekends to look at apartments in the city with his parents; and saw Oikawa finalize his plans to start fresh in Argentina, living a reality that Hiro couldn't even dream of for himself.
He felt like he was falling behind.
Being left behind.
When these swings inevitably come around, Hiro copes as best he's able—though his idea of dealing with his problems has generally always been to ignore them until hopefully they just go away. He puts on a brave face and ignores the inky blackness lingering in the periphery of his vision, curling towards him ominously and threatening to drag him down into that low low low place he doesn't like to go.
But sometimes he can't fight it.
Mattsun had once told Makki that he knows when something is up with him because he "goes dark.”
Impossible to get ahold of where usually his texts are answered in seconds (minutes at most); unable to nail down plans with on the off-chance someone does manage to get ahold of him; even his spotify activity bar goes empty--which is by far the most unusual, because Makki perpetually has one headphone in with something playing through it.
He avoids everyone and everything when he gets like this.
Except for you—you've always been the exception to the rule.
Life after high school kept moving forward; highs and lows coming and going like the years that slipped past him. He got out of the funk that had clouded over his graduation, started working part-time at a local company and saving up to hopefully move to Tokyo eventually, spent his weekends with you—who was still devastated over Oikawa’s departure to Argentina and sought your comfort in him.
It gave him something else to focus on.
Someone else to worry about.
He put your problems before his, and before he knew it his own spirits seemed to be lifting through the process of trying to improve yours.
But he’s not immune to those clouds that occasionally creep in, blocking out the light no matter how brightly it tries to shine.
Makki hasn’t eaten in two days.
He knows it’s been two days because the last thing he ate was a bento that was about to go off that he picked up half price at the konbini down the road from his place, and it’s still sitting half-eaten in his fridge with a best-by date two days past. He’s drank a bit of water, and some tea (whose mugs still sit half-full around his studio apartment), but he hasn’t been able to stomach anything beyond a handful of crackers and a half-packet of microwave rice in the time since then.
He’s miserable.
He’s exhausted.
He’s spent more hours in the past three days asleep than he has conscious. His phone’s been dead for at least the past 24 hours—but that’s just when he’d noticed, it might have been off for even longer.
He could plug it in. He should plug it in. His charger is right next to his bed where he’s laying, dangling from an outlet by his bedside table. But the simple task of reaching over and slotting the cord into the charging port of his powered-down device requires too much energy to accomplish, so instead he stares up at the ceiling and tries to find patterns in the flat, dingy beige paint where there are none.
He doesn’t know exactly when he falls into another fitful sleep, only that the sound of a fist landing violently against his front door startles him awake an unknowable amount of time later.
He stumbles out of bed, only half-conscious and ignoring the way the room spins around him as he makes his way to the front door—where the aggressive knocking has only gotten louder.
When he pulls open the door, he sees you standing in his doorway.
Your expression is concerned and irritated, and you don’t even bother to greet him properly once he’s pulled open the door to reveal his tired face from the other side.
“You haven’t answered my calls for five days.”
Has it really been that long?
“Ah,“ Hiro’s voice is hoarse when he speaks, and he realizes it’s the first time his vocal chords have seen any use in nearly a week. He dips his head. “Sorry, sorry. Must have lost track of time.”
“Hiro—” the way you say his name is too gentle, too starkly different to the tone you’d first greeted him with. It makes him feel nauseated.
“I’m fine,” Hiro tries to make it sound like he means it. “Really, I am.”
A moment of silence passes as you stand in the doorway, Takahiro’s front door still only half opened. He can hear the distant sound of children playing in the park across the street, and the television in his elderly neighbour’s apartment that’s always just a little bit too loud.
“You look terrible.”
“Ouch,” the boy in front of you hisses, smiling a little though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He ruffles his messy hair, suddenly exceedingly glad that he’d dragged his ass to the shower that morning for the first time in longer than he cares to admit.
There’s another moment of quiet that teeters just beyond the boundary of being comfortable.
“So…” you trail off, peeking up at Hiro with a little furrow in your brow. “Can I come in?”
Hiro’s empty stomach twists in on itself.
“I dunno, I was j-just about to—“ he panics, floundering in his haste to decline, knowing the state of his apartment. The state of his life.
“Hiro,” you say his name quietly, supplicatory—all pretence of your earlier irritation gone from your tone. “You’re always there when I need you. Let me repay the favour. Please.“
One glimpse of the desperate, determined look on your face has Hiro crumbling. Weak-kneed and weak-willed as ever to your every whim and plea.
He sighs, opening up the door a little further, just wide enough for you to step through.
It’s embarrassing. Letting you see how he’s been living, the space that he’s been living in, the mess.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been over,” you say, your tone light and casual as you step over a half-filled bag of trash to set your tote bag down on the kitchen counter.
It has been a while. Weeks have passed since the last time you’d shown up at Makki’s door like this.
Since before the last time Oikawa had visited home.
You and Tooru had talked, or so you’d told Makki after the fact over a mediocre feed of late-night sushi. The two of you had settled things. Gotten closure. You’ve been doing much better since then. Holding yourself a little taller, like something had been lifted from you that no could see you’d even been carrying.
But he had.
Takahiro had helped you bear the weight when it was too much for you to shoulder alone, and now that it was no longer there it was like the one thing that had kept him linked to you—kept him necessary in your life—was gone. He didn’t know where he fit into your life now that you didn’t need that piece of him anymore.
He was worried he was going to lose you now, and that worry—that fear—had been gripping him since the moment you’d told him the news with a piece of fatty tuna poised halfway to your ruefully curled lips.
“Hey, did you ever end up finding that blu-ray you were trying to get?”
Hiro blinks at you, startled by how normal you’re being—all things considered. He watches as you tie your hair back, sweeping some trash off the counter in front of you and into the garbage bag at your feet.
You look up when he doesn’t reply to your question.
“Earth to Makki,” you say, a brow quirked. “Did you get it? The…what was it again? Zombie something of the uh—” he sees the way you wrack your brain for the title of the indie horror movie he’d been obsessed with getting his hands on only a few weeks prior.
“Zombie Slayers of the Red Planet,” he supplies the title quietly, eyes flickering over to the shelf below his TV on the other side of his tiny apartment where the recently acquired blu-ray sits.
“Right, right,” you nod, tapping your hands against the edge of his sink. You reach in and pull out a stack of the unwashed dishes he’d allowed to accumulate, setting them aside before turning on the tap. You giggle a little. “Aliens and zombies, it’s like it was made for you.”
You crouch down and retrieve a fresh sponge and some cleaning product from the cabinet underneath the sink, squeezing some into the stainless steel basin once you return to your full height.
“Was it any good?” you ask him, scrubbing at some of the grime clinging to the inside of the sink, your voice rising a little to be heard over the sound of running water.
Hiro braces himself against the edge of the kitchen counter, at a loss for words.
“Yeah,” he affirms once he finds his tongue, nodding a little though you’re not looking his way to see it. He swallows hard over the sudden swell of his throat, sticky and painful. “We… could watch it later if you want.”
You turn to look at him over your shoulder, smiling so brightly it makes Hiro’s heart stutter in his chest.
“Sounds good!”
You clean his kitchen, chattering on about what you’ve been up lately as you go. You sustain the conversation even though it’s almost entirely one-sided, but Makki is happy to just listen to the lilt of your voice as you tell a funny story about something that had happened to you at work last week. Once the dishes have been left to dry on the rack and the counters wiped down, you unpack the groceries you’d brought with you from your tote-bag and start putting them away—promptly throwing out the two-day-old bento from inside Hiro’s fridge.
You make him food. It’s nothing elaborate, considering your cooking skills are even more abysmal than his, but it’s something warm and edible.
You work to tidy the rest of his one room apartment a little bit while he eats, humming a wordless tune to yourself as you pick up trash and organize stacks of magazines and video games that had been left haplessly strewn about. By the time Hiro’s plate is empty, his home looks a little more like what he’s used to, and you come up behind where he’s seated at the kitchen counter and rest your chin on his shoulder.
“Full?” you ask, eying his plate.
He grunts affirmatively. He’d forced himself to eat every single bite, but his stomach feels tight and uncomfortable after going empty for so long.
“Wanna lay down?” you ask him, tilting your face to resting your temple against his ear, fingers toying with the fraying edge of his t-shirt sleeve.
He nods.
And so the two of you find yourselves in his bed, watching the trashy zombie/alien horror movie that Hiro’s already seen 15 times. His head rests on your stomach, his knees curled into his chest as you rake your hands idly through his hair.
“Hiro,” you say gently, halfway through the movie that the boy laying atop you hasn’t paid any attention to. Your voice is guarded, hesitant and a little hurt. Like you’re not sure how to say the words, or if you should be saying them at all, but you still can’t stop yourself. “Why were you avoiding me?”
Takahiro sucks in a sharp breath, a pang in his too-full belly as it tightens with anxiety. He draws his knees a little further into himself, wrapping his arms around them.
He draws in a shuddering, suffering breath.
“Being near you is hard for me right now.”
“Why?” Your fingers pause, strands of his strawberry-hued hair tickling your knuckles.
He doesn’t dare move a muscle.
“It hurts.” Makki’s eyes squeeze shut, a hot tear forcing its way out that he hopes to god you can’t see. “Being around you hurts right now.”
“I’m sorry,” your voice is strained as you reply, anguish winding itself around your throat and into your words.
His heart wrenches with guilt that’s already eaten away at the better part of him.
“It’s nothing you did. It’s me. It’s my fault. I just-“ Takahiro fights back a sob that’s swelling too fast and too fierce in his chest. “I just can’t deal with all of these things I’m feeling.”
He sits up, wrenching himself away from you—leaving you to stare helplessly at his back as he slouches forward and struggles to even his quickening breaths.
“What are you feeling?” you ask him, quiet but desperate. “Can you tell me?”
He turns towards you, blinking tears from his bloodshot eyes.
“I love you,” his voice cracks when he says it. Finally says it. “Really fucking love you. Not like a friend, either.”
Your lips part in shock, but he doesn’t leave you room to reply, too desperate to get the confession that has been festering inside of him for the better part of a decade out before he loses his momentary nerve.
“And I have, for a while. Forever.” He barks out a hollow, joyless laugh, though the situation is anything but comical. “And I know it’s not fair for me to say this to you right now, but I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Hiro—”
“Listen, I get it if you hate me,” he shakes his head, pinching his eyes closed as his face screws up with disgust. “I’d hate me. But I swear that I never meant to—“
“Takahiro.”
Makki pauses, eyes popping open as you take his face in your soft, warm hands.
You’re so close to him, eyes desperately searching his as though looking for an answer to a question you never posed.
No, not a question.
Permission.
You inch forward, your lips catching just the edge of his. It’s soft, sweet—everything he's ever wanted and more. Better than he'd ever hoped it might be.
Suddenly it doesn’t matter that his apartment is a mess. Doesn’t matter that his stomach hurts. Doesn’t matter that the movie in the background is at probably the least romantic moment it could possibly be as a zombie has its head violently ripped off—the spatter of gore the soundtrack to the gentle brush of your lips.
You pull back, resting your forehead against his as a tear drips off the end of his nose—your hands are still gently cradling Makki’s burning cheeks.
“This isn’t the right time, but we’re gonna talk about this when you feel better. When things are a little bit less overwhelming, okay?” you say the words so quietly, so tenderly, as your eyes bore into his.
He nods, because he doesn’t know what else he can do.
“But right now,” you say, shuffling back a little so you’re resting up against the pillows again, “we’re just gonna take a nap.”
Makki follows you up to the head of the bed, drawn to you like the pull of gravity or the tides are to the moon, nestling down beside you as you pull the comforter up around both of your bodies.
He curls into your side, his heart beating so loudly it’s all that he can hear. Your eyes flutter closed after a while, but he can’t help but watch you.
“You can’t fall asleep if you don’t shut your eyes, Hiro,” you say with a breathy giggle, not even needing to look at him to know he hasn't even tried to rest his eyes.
Something warm and syrupy squirms in Makki’s chest, and he cranes up, nosing gently against the edge of your jaw.
“Can I have one more?” he whispers.
You crack an eye open, peering down at him as you quirk your brow.
Your second kiss is as sweet as the first, and just as chaste, but it tastes unmistakably like the promise of more.
Takahiro is not stupid enough to think that his problems are solved, even if he did fail all of his college entrance exams. He’s not foolish enough to believe that he’ll never have another low, or even a low worse than this one.
But it’s a little more bearable—a little more tolerable—knowing that there’s something to look forward to ahead.
Takahiro closes his eyes, buries his face into the warm crook of your neck, and sleeps better than he has in years.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago
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Hello! Could i request headcanons for Karl Heisenberg and reader with low self-esteem? They very often think in a bad way about themselves and feel like a burden. They believe they are not beautiful enough, not good enough, not smart enough and in their opinion Karl deserves a far better partner than them. Thank you very much!
Of course darling! Enjoy the headcanons 💕
Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Reader (Gender Neutral) [Resident Evil Village]
Warnings: Self Esteem Issues, Insecurities, Swearing, Minor SPOILERS for Resident Evil Village
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff
- You've always had a tough time with yourself
- You can't remember a single time you've looked in the mirror and seen nothing wrong
- There was always something
- A birth mark that bothered you
- The shape of your nose
- The size of your forehead
- The look of your body in general
- You aren't a shallow person, by any means
- You find practically everyone beautiful
- Unfortunately, everyone but yourself
- Your disliking for yourself goes beyond just the outside appearance, it delves deeper into your personality and character
- You believe you're too emotional for your or your partner's good
- You think you fall head over heels too quickly and then become clingy in fear of losing the person
- And why might you lose them, or why you think you might lose them?
- For all your aforementioned insecurities
- Karl hadn't noticed the way you looked at the mirror's reflection in utter distaste
- The ugly comments you so casually dropped about yourself flew over his head as self-deprecating jokes
- He was right about the first part, but they certainly weren't jokes
- Just lines upon lines of self-deprecation
- One day, he seemed to have caught onto the seriousness of the insults you aimed at yourself all the time
- "Y/N, why do you keep saying that nasty crap about yourself?" He asked you, surprising you
- All your life you'd gotten used to expressing minimal amount of your negative feelings and even when you did you'd laugh as though they were your stand-up comedy lines
- And no one ever questioned it, until now
- You shrugged, "I'm just pointing out the obvious. I'm aware of how I look, you don't have to play pretend with me, Karl."
- While you avoided eye contact to the best of your ability, Karl was staring at you with mighty confusion that would've probably burnt holes through his sunglasses if he had been wearing them
- "What's obvious to me is that you put yourself down on accounts that aren't even true. You underestimate yourself and undermine all your amazing qualities, choosing to instead focus on your lesser ones. I mean, we all have bad qualities, bad habits, whatever, but you...." he trailed off with a sigh
- It was clear he had fallen deep in thought but you didn't want to disturb him, so you let him think it out and after a minute or so, he spoke up again, "I..-I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes."
- You may not be able to do that, but you were definitely looking at him through your teary eyes and that did quite a number on your perspective
- "Since that's impossible, let me tell you what I see instead..." he closed the gap between you, placing the rough palms of his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks gently
- "I see an incredibly smart, brave and righteous person. Someone who isn't afraid to speak up or make a move when nobody else will. Someone who'd jump in the line of fire without a second thought to save a practical stranger. I see someone who deserves all the world has to offer and all the love I could give them. I see someone who has found it in them to love someone like me. Someone as beautiful, incredible, amazing, intelligent, someone like that, falling for me? I can still hardly believe it..." He chuckled, going astray with his sentence again before regaining the trail
- "And lastly, I see someone who needs to love themself more. Someone who needs to love themself as much as I love them. And you may not be able to see yourself through my eyes, but I will, from now on, tell you exactly what I see every day. I'll never let those negative thoughts invade your head again."
- All you could do is nod, seeing him smile as his thumbs brushed the tears off your collarbones
- "There you go, darling. Badass as always."
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legends-mania · 2 years ago
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Losing your harnas
My second post! Forgot to post here, oops. I'll try to do it more regularly.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"How are you?"
"Peachy." Leonard answered with his typical snark.
"You weren't at the post-mission celebration," Sara commented.
"You've noticed. Congratulations."
"Come on, Leonard. Even though you deny that you like the team, you're always there after the mission. You never skip a free beer," Sara pushed, wanting to know what was going on with Leonard.
"First of all, I don't pretend anything. I can tolerate you and Mick and that's it." Leonard could see that Sara wasn't convinced by this, but he let it slide. "Second, I am not Mick and the beers are always free here. And last, I don't need to clarify myself to you."
"The last one is true, but we both know that those beers are not free. Rip has to pay for the food fabricator."
"Free for me then."
Sara just rolled her eyes, not wanting to pay attention to the wrong subject. "And about your third statement," she continued." You indeed don't have to, but we both know I'm not going to just let it go. So, Leonard, what is wrong?" Sara tried again. She pushed herself off the wall and walked over to where Leonard sat on his bed.
He followed her every move out of the corner of his eye. "Fine," he surrendered. Seeing no point in discussing this any further. He knew she was going to win, so why not get it over with. "On the mission I got thrown into that prison because of Raymond, right? Well, I wasn't the only Snart there." He didn't need to explain any further. Sara knew exactly what he ment.
"You saw your father." She let out a sight and sat on the side of Leonards bed. "Your father is gone," Sara said after a short silence. "You and your sister are safe."
"I know," Leonard answered.
"Do you? Then why are you wearing your harnas in your own bed?"
"My what?" Leonard asked, confused.
"Your harnas. The layers of clothes and your boots. You're even wearing your jacket.
"So what? It's my room, my bed, my rules. I do whatever I want."
Sara looked disapproving of Leonard's boots on his bed. "Your bed will get more dirty if you do that."
Leonard wanted to say something like that she isn't his mother, but she crawled to his feet and carefully took off his boots and put them beside his bed. Leonard just stared at her uncomfortably. He wasn't used to this. Other people care about his little habits.
And to Leonards discomfort, Sara came closer to him. He clenched his jaw and followed her every move with his eyes.
"It's okay, Leonard. It's just us. You can relax." He hadn't even noticed, but he was holding his knees tighter than he had before. He relaxed a little because Sara was right. It was just them.
Then it hit him. Since when does he not care about other people seeing him vulnerable. No. He did care, just not with her. But why?
Then he felt a sudden warmth. Sara was now so close…
"Are you okay? If you want me to leave, I'll go," she offered, afraid she was doing something wrong.
"It's okay, I was just… thinking," he said. He didn't want her to leave. Not yet.
"What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing."
After that it stayed quiet. Sara knew she had pushed him enough about this. And the silence was pretty comforting.
After a while Sara looked back at Leonard's face. "You're a brave man," she said while she gently brushed his cheek.
"I know," he said sarcastically.
"I know you know. You just need to hear it more often." Sara came even closer to Leonard now. And to his surprise she leaned into him. Immediately his body stiffened.
Sara noticed this and pushed away. "Sorry. I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries," she apologized.
"Well, you've been doing that all night, haven't you?" When Leonard saw Sara's guilty face he regretted that he said that. He quickly looked away and this time an uncomfortable silence fel.
"I should go," Sara said after a while. She stood up and wanted to walk away, but Leonard grabbed her hand.
"Don't," he said. "You don't have to, I mean." Leonard pulled Sara closer to the bed and she went to sit on the same spot she sat before.
After that Leonard refused to look her in the eye. It was stupid. He shouldn't have asked her to stay, or more accurately tell her to stay. It sounded desperate. But maybe he was. The last thing he wanted right now was to be alone.
"Leonard," Sara whispered. After Leonard looked back at her she continued. "You don't have to let me in, or lose your harnas around me, but you can. I'll always be here for you."
He didn't know what to say or do. He never had anyone who he could trust like that. Maybe Lisa, but not even Mick. And still he knew she was right.
Leonard closed his eyes. "I know." He made himself even smaller.
Sara had never seen him so vulnerable. He looked so lost in his own thoughts. "Let me help you with this. There is no way that this is comfortable." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her hands went to the zipper of his jacked and slowly opened it. She noticed how Leonard followed everything she did, but did not try to stop her. He even cooperated when she pulled his jacket off. She took that as a sign that she could continue.
After his jacket was off and was put over a chair Sara gently pushed Leonard back against his wall. He looked less vulnerable but still a little uncertain.
"Len, may I come closer?" Sara asked.
Leonard just nodded as he stared at his hands who were playing nervously in his lap.
With a little smile Sara laid her head on his chest. She placed herself half on Leonard half on his bed. She looked at her hand on Leonard's chest rising and falling with every breath. It was a little too fast for her liking, but luckily it started to slow down.
"Is this okay?" She asked.
Leonard started to nod, but after realizing that she couldn't see that he answered. "It's fine." And after he said that she snuggled even closer.
Leonard still couldn't believe that Sara, the deadly assassin, lay curled up in his side. And worst of all, he liked it. He could feel her heartbeat and he could smell the shampoo she had used. It was a strange kind of comfort he had never felt before.
He pulled his hand from under Sara and laid it on her back. "May I?" He asked tugging a little on Sara's shirt.
"Hmm," she hummed as confirmation, repositioning herself a little so he could reach her back better.
Leonard pulled her shirt a little up and started rubbing small circles on Sara's back.
Sara closed her eyes and just took everything in. The silence, Leonards presence and the warmth that came from him. Her eyes slowly closed when Leonards breathing became regular.
Leonard wanted to ask Sara if she would stay for the night, but when he saw her sleeping in his arms he realized she already answered his question.
He also realized something else. He liked this. He needed this. He needed her. And he didn't care how, but he would make damn sure he was going to get her. No matter what.
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rogue-durin-16 · 4 years ago
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YOU DRIVE ME MAD
Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Genre: angst-fluff
Tags:
Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa
Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)
A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
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Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.
"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.
"uhm... Nothing."
"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.
"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.
"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.
With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.
I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"
"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.
"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.
My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.
His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.
I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.
The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.
"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.
"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"
"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.
"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.
One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.
"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.
"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."
"... 'm trying..."
"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.
"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.
"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.
"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.
I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.
What the fuck had just happened?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.
As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.
Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.
"—already told you it wasn't for you!"
"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.
"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"
"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"
"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"
"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.
As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.
"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.
"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.
"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."
He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.
"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."
"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"
"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.
"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"
"Been better." I confessed.
Silence.
"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."
"No worries."
Silence again.
"Did you eat something?"
He scrunched his nose. "Not really."
"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.
"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."
More silence.
"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."
"Yours is too, surprisingly."
"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.
"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"
"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.
"No!"
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"Liar."
There we went again; the white flag was out.
"Fuck you."
"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."
"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."
"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.
"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."
"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."
"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"
He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.
"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.
"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"
He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.
"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
FRED'S P. O. V.
The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.
I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.
That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.
I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"
"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.
"In private?"
"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.
"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."
This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"
"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.
This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.
I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.
"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."
"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.
Finally.
Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.
"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.
"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.
Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.
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barnesandrogersfanfics · 4 years ago
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Ocean Eyes - Part 13
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A/N - OMG finally an update!!! I'm so sorry it has taken me so long but writers block is a bitch! Thank you all for sticking with me and being so patient 💕💕💕 Please like/comment/reblog.
"CHRIS EVANS HAS A SECRET FAMILY!"
Shit, shit. Shit! Oh my fuck this can't be happening!! I thought to myself as i clicked on the link Hannah had sent me, the page loaded showing photo's of Chris and I kissing, photo's of Chris and Mason...... my heart was racing and i could feel the panic setting in.
"Fucking Brian!" I mumbled, this was taken the day i saw his car outfront! I got up and made my way to Chris' office, i needed to let him know about this ASAP incase he was suddenly blind sided with a question while doing his interview.
As soon as i appeared in the doorway Chris looked up and gave me a little smile that soon fell when he saw the tears in my eyes.
"Im so sorry but can you just excuse me for two seconds..... i'll be right back" Chris said leaving Scott talking to Jimmy Fallon.
"Whats wrong?....." he asked quietly pulling the door closed behind him.
"Im so sorry Chris....." i shook my head.
"Why? Whats happened?...."
I passed him my phone showing him the headline and photo's "Everyone knows, I'm so sorry! This is all my fault...." i started to cry, this isn't how i wanted everyone to find out... we weren't ready for everyone to know yet!!
"Hey stop! This isn't your fault sweetheart!" Chris wrapped his arms around me "come on don't cry, i hate it when you cry".
"Im so mad Chris!...they have no right posting photo's of Mason!"
"Let me just go finish up this interview, i'll be two minutes" he kissed me before rushing back to finish up with Jimmy.
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After Chris had finished up his interview he was calling his publicist Megan, he already had missed calls from her so she had obviously heard what was going on. An hour later she was sat on the sofa across from us listening to the whole story.
"I want those photo's of my son taken down now! They can't post photo's of my 6 year old for everyone to see!" Chris was yelling as he paced the room.
"I've already put in a call and told them to take it down, but you know its gonna be out there now....you can't hide from this Chris"
"I know but.... fuck! We didn't want Mason in the public eye..... he's just a kid!"
"I get it, they should have at least blurred his face in the shots, most tabloids do nowadays unless the parents give consent but this particular tabloid that published the story, they're not one of the big names so they're more interested in their 5 minutes of fame with this exclusive"
"Brian did this. He did it to hurt me, its not even about the money! He could've sold the story to one of the big tabloids and got a payout..." i shook my head "the guy is crazy! I wasn't even dating him!"
"We're gonna try and do something about him too, leave it with me" Megan gave me a small smile while writing something in her notebook "So, you should probably post something on your socials.... clear up the gossip. Usually id say don't react to this but we need to do some damage control because right now, i guarantee all people are thinking is either you've been an absentee father with no interest in your son for the past six years" she said looking to Chris "or you'll be public enemy number one for keeping Chris's son from him" she looked over to me and i lowered my head in shame, i had done that..... i had my reasons but i did it all the same.
"So what do we say?" I asked quietly as Chris came and sat beside me taking my hand.
"We say that even though the two of you haven't been together romantically up until now, you have been raising your son together but chose to keep him out of the public eye"
"I'll put something together for you to look over, make sure you think its okay" Chris told her.
"I know this isn't great but we can handle this"
"Thank you Megan".
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Over the next couple of days things gradually calmed down, Chris had posted a simple statement which i was told to post too even though my accounts were private to friends only, he didn't go into much detail but confirmed that we do have a son together and asked for our privacy to be respected.
His fans had actually been amazing and so supportive, of course there were a few saying some not so nice things about me and Mason but we knew that would happen. The tabloid stories quickly disappeared regarding Mason when other celebrities started posting, calling the tabloids out for not respecting our privacy after we had made it clear we didn't want our son in the spotlight.
But i still had this constant pit in my stomach, a feeling that things would still get worse before they went back to normal.
I was currently laid on the bed next to a basket of laundry that needed folding and putting away, I had retreated upstairs with the excuse of doing laundry while Chris, Scott and Mason were out back playing some game. The truth was i just needed some alone time, i was tired of putting on a brave and happy face, pretending like everything was fine. My hands massaged my temples trying to shift the dull headache that seemed like a constant thing lately.
"Hey, you okay?" The sound of Chris's voice from the door way made me crack open an eye to look at him.
"Yeah, headache is all"
"You've been up here a while, i got worried"
"I was doing laundry i told you....."
"You mean the laundry still sitting next to you?" He teased with a raised eyebrow.
"Yep, i started then i got a headache. I just need a few minutes" i said quietly closing my eyes again.
"Sweetheart you know you can talk to me, you don't have to act like everything is fine....."
"Yes i do, if i don't I'm gonna loose it and i can't do that with Mason around".
I felt the bottom of the bed dip and opened my eyes to see Chris crawling up the bed towards me, he moved my legs so his upper body was resting between them as he pressed kisses to my T-shirt covered stomach.
"What are you doing?" I shook my head and chuckled at the playful look he had on his face.
"Trying to cheer you up, maybe help you forget for a while" he smirked pushing my T-shirt up more so he could kiss my bare skin this time.
"Is now really the time for that? Mason is awake downstairs...."
"Its the perfect time for that, Scott will keep Mason busy"
"You dont know that....."
Chris quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped quickly on the screen before tossing it aside.
"Done, no distractions" he laughed.
"Oh god please don't tell me you told Scott why?"
"Of course not but he's not stupid"
"This is a bad idea..... we said slow...."
"This is slow, i just wanna make you feel better. Plus you know orgasm's are supposed to help with headaches" he shrugged with that cocky grin.
"Oh really? Is that right?"
"100%" he nodded making us both laugh, he reached for my shorts and starting to pull the them down my legs...
"Wait!" I said suddenly sitting up to look at him making him groan as he looked back at me from between my legs.
"What?"
"Lock the door would ya?" I giggled throwing myself back down on the bed shaking my head as he leapt from the bed and flipped the lock.
"Now where were we?" He said before crawling back into position.....this was a bad idea.
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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago
Note
Please ignore this if you've gotten sick of this particular prompt, but may we please get another set of the Oxygen Deprivation scenarios, but this time with Ratchet and Megatron?? Regardless of if you do it or not, thank you for your hard work, I love everything you've written so far!
Thankfully I never tire of drama! I did the prompt for Megatron back in part three, but I've absolutely got some grumpy/caring medic for you! Thank you for taking the time to read my stuff and send in a request, it always makes my day!
Part One: Here!
Part Two: Here!
Part Three: Here!
Part Four: Here!
Part Five: You're Here!
Part Six: Here!
Part Seven: Here!
Part Eight: Here!
Part Nine: Here!
Part Ten: Here!
Part Eleven: Here!
Part Twelve: Here!
Ratchet
·You're in Swerve's with him for a nice evening off, something he enjoys a little more frequently than he used to thanks to the multitude of medics on board, but he appreciates every minute the two of you get to enjoy together regardless. There's hardly a lack of things to discuss, and you often find yourself listening to his stories until the bar closes and he has to carry you to berth. It's a little embarrassing for you, especially with every bot that knows thinking it's the cutest thing they've ever seen, but you admittedly enjoy being with Ratchet too much to care about how it looks. It doesn't hurt that he quite obviously enjoys it as well, especially when he's usually around those who only seek him out if they're sick, and he enjoys that he finally has an enthusiastic audience.
·The two of you are amongst the last of the patrons but still going strong one slow evening, with you perched atop a table whilst the older mech tells a story about a long ago incident in a medical lab where, upon being short staffed due to an ongoing battle, a patient had helpfully assisted with his own surgery. Though you're tired due to the hour, you're more than invested enough to keep your eyes open and listen along in fascination. It's not often he gets to go on like this, after all, and he looks absolutely adorable when he does.
·There's an unexpected flickering of the lights that stops everyone in their place, but it ends just quickly enough for the atmosphere to return to calm and for some bot to crack a joke about Swerve not paying his electric bill. You barely have time to chuckle before the whole ship is rocked like a boat on the open ocean, sending engex flying and glass shattering as everything not nailed down is tossed without a care, yourself included. Only the quick hands of an experienced medic save you from experiencing a not so gentle crash into the floor. Looking up once the dust settles to see Ratchet has you cupped safely in his palms, the two of you can't help but exchange a quick smile before the various bots around you start asking questions.
·Ratchet is quick to answer, keeping you in his hands to avoid the sea of broken glass as he stands. Any bot with decent battle experience on a ship like this recognizes what they all just felt, but being a bot who's seen more than his fair share of combat in space, he's able to explain that the size of the tremor indicates that they've been trapped by an enemy ship of smaller but not insignificant build. He gives them about five minutes before they're boarded, and instructs those gathered to head for emergency battle stations, as commands for defense will no doubt be incoming.
·Announcing his own intent to get to his post in the medical bay, the mech is quick to get going despite appearing outwardly calm, even promising Swerve he'll settle his tab when they get all this sorted. Holding you tight in one hand, he pulls up his communicator and tries to reach the bridge for specific instructions. To his frustration nothing comes through, and you find the same results when you make an attempt to establish communication with any top bot on your own communicator, prompting a few muttered swears from your partner. As usual, he's quick to get right to planning.
·Thankfully his designated task for any kind of emergency is exactly the same no matter the crisis; he heads to the medical bay and starts repairing the inevitable wounded. While you can't help with surgery, being that you're not much bigger than most of their tools, he posits that it makes sense for you to come with him. There's nothing more fortified than the medical bay, after all, so you can at least be somewhere safe. Though you're tempted to tease him about how obvious it is he wants you somewhere he can keep an optic on you, for now you decide to just settle in his hand and focus on what's ahead.
·Having been on many ships before this one, he's able to navigate with hardly a second thought, giving him a chance to keep his focus on you whilst he tries to keep figuring out the extent of the ship's difficulty. You can see him frown as he tries unsuccessfully to get his communicator working, and though you want to be stealthy for the sake of safety, you do want a better understanding of what's going on. Thankfully a human voice doesn't travel far through the hallways when spoken at conversational volume. Trying not to betray your anxiety, you ask if he can tell you anything about what to expect.
·Holding your tiny form a little closer, he hides the fact that he can see your apprehension clear as day, quite familiar with the brave face bots and humans alike will put on when in danger. Still, he certainly respects you enough to be honest. He explains that one ship latching on to another for an ambush these days is typically a pirate tactic, as they're more interested in selling the vessel afterwards or scrapping it for tech, unlike warring factions who will typically just blow each other up. There's probably already enemy forces on the ship, and they've certainly come well armed if they feel confident enough to take on Cybertronians.
·Your eyes dart around a little faster at that thought. Securing your hand against one of his digits, you remember they're sensitive enough to pick your heartbeat from just a touch, and the recollection stirs your affection whilst also making you think. If Cybertronians are so advanced, how can there be nothing working on this ship right now? Were there really no back up systems that could at least give you the basics? With the whole structure being the size of Manhattan, it'd be very nice to at least know if some areas might be safe, but then again bots tended to build things in a strange way. Nevertheless, your curiosity is so great you can't help asking a question.
·Ratchet pauses even as he keeps walking, his expression going distant in a way that initially makes you worry your query was taken with offense. But thankfully he speaks a second afterwards, looking inspired as he recalls a station of terminals not too far out of your path. It's more vulnerable, sure, but it also has physical connections to every part of the craft. He'd at least be able to conduct a system wide scan from there, and after that he'd have a much better idea of what they're up against. But he has to ask you first; are you comfortable with him taking the risk? Of course he'll always protect you, but there's a greater chance he'll need to do that if this path is chosen.
·You're smart enough to know exactly what he means. But there's a risk you'll bump into an enemy anyway, so wouldn't having a chance to get information like this be worth it? Oddly enough you seem more on board than he is with the plan, his friendly blue optics dimming with worry before you lay a comforting hand on his chest, smiling as you do so. This big mech cares so deeply for everyone, but you have a very special place in his loving spark, no matter how much he tries to pretend he's a grump. Your sentimental move seems to snap him back to hiding behind his mask, and he mutters something about feeling your heartbeat against his palm and how it's obvious you're nervous but if you say you're ready then he'll give this plan a try...
·For the sake of stealth he remains in bipedal mode, but he absolutely keeps you securely held to his chest, and you can't help but wish the circumstances were better because his spark humming beside you is impossibly soothing. Being held protectively by a Cybertronian is undoubtedly one of the most secure feelings in the world, you believe. Just being held by him in general though is enough to make you realize you're actually quite tired, enough so that you could absolutely fall asleep... Until he detects your slowing heartbeat and encourages you to stay awake.
·The terminal is in sight without a spot of trouble when Ratchet has to gently coax you awake for a second time, using a light nudge of his digit to encourage you to open your eyes once more. Though he knows the hour is late, your sudden sluggishness concerns him as a medic, enough so that he's now more intent than ever on getting some answers. Even without proof and a wealth of far more simple explanations, he's got a feeling something is wrong. A small part of his concentration is divided to keep a constant watch on your vitals.
·You're still alert enough to hear the incoming trouble just as he does; gunfire, shouts and general sounds of skirmish approaching rapidly down the hallway. Hearing him curse this unfortunate luck, you try to ascertain how long the two of you have until company arrives, but the noise is much too chaotic for you to gauge. Knowing Autobots will be amongst the fray is somehow far from comforting. Holding on tight to the hands cradling you so protectively, you look straight up just as the quick thinking doctor looks down at you, absolute trust in your eyes as you meet his optics. Whatever he decides to do next, you trust him with your life.
·The decision he makes isn't a spontaneous one, but it certainly feels like it as he barrels towards the terminals, holding his tiny partner to his chest as he runs. Knowing what's happening may well be the key to undoing any damage before it's too late. He can feel the heat of a few errant shots of blaster fire just as he gets his one spare hand on the keyboard, typing with speed he typically reserves for surgery as the world around him grows gradually more chaotic. Fortunately he only needs to hit a few buttons to bring up all the information he's looking for. Sharp optics start scanning whilst he uses his multitasking skills to keep track of everything else, listening for the threat and holding your little body close while he registers your pulse.
·The world around you feels like it's moving through water that thickens with every passing second, and neither the crackle of energy weapons nor the clanging of blades does anything to reverse the process. Even a shout from an Autobot warning Ratchet to move seems a million miles away. You know he told you to stay awake, but would he really mind if you got a quick nap in? After all, it's so late, and you're so tired, and you feel so safe in his sheltered grip... There isn't even a bit of worry in your mind regarding the fray. How could you be worried, here with the bot who would protect you always?
·Everything makes a terrifying amount of sense far too quickly. Ratchet is accustomed to the rapid responses his occupation requires of him, but for this singular instant he's frozen, optics locking on the atmosphere readout and hoping that he's simply misread it. A glancing but molten blow past his back forces him to accept what won't change, and he manages a combat roll just as the terminal is blasted by errant fire, the battle now within arms length as the same Autobot keeps encouraging him to move. He obliges only after sinking a fist into the face of an alien who wanders too close. After that, he's on the move without reservation, keeping you shielded with his entire frame as he runs.
·Your world spins without end even when the movement of everything beyond stabilizes, and you cling to the bot holding you for something to steady it all. God, what you wouldn't give to lie down and sleep... Ratchet is talking to you though, holding you so that you can see his face as he explains something about oxygen and taking deep breaths while focusing on him. It makes tragically little sense to you. Still, you feel bad as your eyelids grow heavy and your body turns to limp weight in his grip. Even your efforts to breathe as instructed feel like a failure. Of all the beings in the galaxy he's the one you want to dissapoint least, but his warm palms beneath you are so comfortable, and his spark humming in your ear is so soothing... You only hope he can forgive you for submitting to sleep.
·Ratchet knows he's powerless to wake you again, but that hardly keeps the agony from tearing at his spark. Seeing you go limp in his grasp, feeling your pulse weaken and grow irregular, hearing your breath stall... How long has it been since any medical emergency has reduced him to near panic like this? He's so invested in his task that his arrival to the medical bay only comes with orders. You're the human equivalent of a Fader, and so much of what he needs to save you isn't even ready to go! He needs to have a mask, a saline solution for dehydration, and oxygen of the exact content percentage you need to survive just to start... For the first time in eons he's terrified, even as it all comes together and he sees your vitals stabilize before his very optics, as all he can think of is how very close this came to ending tragically. As you're left recovering he quickly gets to work on other patients, throwing himself into the task so as not to worry, though his optics betray him on the regular with glances towards the berth supporting your tiny body.
·Wakefulness comes with a familiar digit resting in your palm, reading your vitals as you put together blurry pieces of a not so happy story. To your delight, a brightly colored chevron is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, and it's impossible not to smile when you roll your head over to look at the owner. Ratchet somehow looks more exhausted than you've ever seen him as he smiles back. He relays everything that happened in a way that paints him as an unimportant figure, up until you move your hand to rest atop his, your eyes filled with that same trust and admiration you'd given before he'd gone for the terminal. You want to communicate that you know how much you owe him. This brave, selfless medic who'd risked so much to give you his best and deserved the full credit for saving your life... Humility doesn't allow him to agree in full, but you're certain you can see peace in his optics, the kind he only seems to feel with you.
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dorindameddler · 3 years ago
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a braving light in a world so dark: a georgie/melanie playlist (spotify)
1. first love/late spring - mitski // 2. unforgiving girl (she's not an) - car seat headrest // 3. strange girl - laura marling // 4. reach out - sleater-kinney // 5. safe tonight - bat for lashes // 6. crying in public - chairlift // 7. don't delete the kisses - wolf alice // 8. it's not just me - let's eat grandma // 9. sick of spiraling - bachelor // 10. shut up kiss me - angel olsen // 11. marauders - thao & the get down stay down // 12. half colored hair - black belt eagle scout // 13. stay with me - margaret glaspy // 14. don't go puttin wishes in my head - torres // 15. walk with you - oceanator
selection of lyrics under the cut
first love/late spring
Wild women don't get the blues/But I find that lately, I've been crying like a tall child/So please, hurry, leave me, I can't breathe/Please don't say you love me/Mune ga hachikire-sōde/One word from you and I would/Jump off of this ledge I'm on, baby/Tell me, "Don't," so I can crawl back in
unforgiving girl (she's not an)
Well, everyone learns to live with themselves/And you're not the only one who's been through hell/So give me a sign that I'm not making love to myself/It's an unforgiving world/But she's not an unforgiving girl
strange girl
Woke up in a country who refused to hold your hand/Kept falling for narcissists who insist you call them 'man'/You work late for a job you hate that's never fit the plan/Stay low, keep brave/I love you, my strange girl/My lonely girl/My angry girl/My brave
reach out
Reach out, touch me, I'm stuck on the edge/Reach out, darkness is winning again/Reach out and see me, I'm losing my head/Reach out, I can't fight without you, my friend
safe tonight
Lying in the dark and I am out of time/There's a demon in my heart that I'm not sure we’ll survive/The shadows come around one too many times/Baby, I need you to tell me I'm safe tonight
crying in public
Take all my defenses in two words/And throw them away/ Tell me, what kind of monster/Have I been today?/But you smile and call me “tough guy”/To the opposite effect/It's a flower in the gun/And your tough guy's a wreck/Sorry I'm crying in public this way/I'm falling for you, I'm falling for you/I'm sorry I'm causing a scene on the train/I'm falling for you, I'm falling for you
don't delete the kisses
What if it's not meant for me?/Love/What if it's not meant for me?/Love/A few days pass since I last saw you/And you've taken over my mind/I'm retelling jokes you made that made me laugh/Pretending that they're mine/I wanna tell the whole world about you/I think that that's a sign/I'm losing self-control and it's you
it's not just me
Because the point is that I see it's not just me/The point is that you feel my company/You know I'll never be too far if you're looking for somebody/I'm here/It's not just me/I know you're feeling the same way/And I can't fail to believe/When you're feeling the same way/It's not just me
sick of spiraling
Walking alone at night/Clutching a cheap gas station knife/Love, the danger is in the car/Who couldn't see me it was too dark/As the brakes slam to the floor/Missing me just inches short/I thought, "If I can't have my own back/How the fuck can I have yours?"/You are a braving light in a world so dark/And I'm sick of spiraling out and I need your touch to stop/You are a braving light in a world so dark/And I'm scared out of my mind and I need your love
shut up kiss me
I could make it all go away/Tell me what you’re thinking, don't delay/We could still be having some sweet memories/This heart still beats for you, why can't you see?/Shut up, kiss me, hold me tight/Shut up, kiss me, hold me tight/Stop your crying, it's alright/Shut up, kiss me, hold me tight
marauders
My darlin', your patience, rain it on me/I know daughters of marauders are just so hard to please/I got that poison, carve it on out/Barely served me then/Only hurts me now/But you look like I could stay/Let all my intentions fall away/Kill all my defenses where they lay/Say all that's left to say
half colored hair
How you look at me/In the brightness of your room/Imagine the lightness of my fingers on your face/Run through your hair/Across your neck/Light breaks across your room/I never knew I'd like half colored hair so much/But in the light
stay with me
I've had nothing but trouble/And bad news on the line for such a long time/The only break I get is laughing 'tiI my eyes are wet/With you, you/Won't you stay with me?/I'll be on my best behavior/When it all shakes down—/Who's the clown, and who's the savior?
don't go puttin wishes in my head
I know promising forever's not your thing/But now if you don't want me to go dreaming/Don't spend your mornings and your evenings in my bed/If you don't want me believing that/You're never gonna leave me, darling/Don't go putting wishes in my head/So if we're calling off the funeral/Then I'm calling for a hitching/For a while, I was sinking/But from here on out, I swear I'm swimming
walk with you
When you were depressed and/You put your head on my chest and you told me/That you were tired of being tough/I took you by the hand and/Told you I understand and you told me/That could never be enough/But I will walk with you down the avenue though the streets are made of glass/And we will tread lightly on our heavy feet and avoid all of the cracks/It's a fragile place that we've ended in and one wrong move could shatter/But in the end will it matter?
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suganovakawa · 4 years ago
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i have been holding this idea to myself for an entire MONTH AHAHA but here we are , i’m a big gorl now and i really wanted to share the angst — along with finally starting a blog on tumblr . so yeah ! i’m new , pls be kind to me , i have food 👉🏼👈🏼 i hope you enjoy my first story !
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𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .
PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader
GENRE : angst , romance
TRIGGERS : bits of cursing here n there , ig ?
SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .
[ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 .
the beginning of a storm ; why was tooru at seijoh so late ?
word count : 1.9k .
saudade masterlist.
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SAUDADE
( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”
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⠀"tooru? i've tried calling you for almost an hour now... what are you still doing here?" the janitor had allowed you an entrance inside seijoh, your light jacket pressed against your body as you scuffled through the gym doors, your tongue clicking as you eyed a certain brunette captain serving his god-knows-how-many time of deadly top-spin serves.
⠀his eyes darted in your direction the moment your voice filled the echoey gym walls, your concerned tone ringing back and forth as his brown irises glared at you through narrow eyelids. a nervous lump grew in your throat, your stomach understanding the regret in the decision you made. oikawa was in one of his moods again; you should've known better than to barge in during his serving practice.
⠀still, even with your boyfriend acting the way he was - without saying a single word - there was no use in just leaving aoba johsai as quickly as you arrived. you came to check on tooru, and that was exactly what you were going to do. "it's late, tooru. we still have school tomorrow! you need your rest, please give yourself a break, it'll do more harm than good for you."
⠀"you say that every time, y/n." oikawa rolled his eyes as he bent down to grab a nearby volleyball rolling at his feet, palming it in his right hand and pointing it at the net. his focus was intent - you knew exactly what he was doing. for the past couple of weeks, the captain focused his practice on serving, locking in and applying all of his power to one spot on the court only. it was a feat not many could accomplish, but tooru was scarily coming close to mastering such a challenge. it required extra practice, of course, but certainly not to this extent.
⠀"as your girlfriend and as the manager of the aoba johsai volleyball team, i'm worried about you, you know?" taking a deep, brave breath, you stepped further into the gym, your footsteps creating more echoes for the two of you to listen to as you approached the sweat-covered third year, who had paused his serving practice to watch you come to him. his lips were pursed - and not in a way that sent your heart aflutter. oikawa hated when you disturbed him and tried talking him out of practicing; he'd give any reason and excuse to avoid it.
⠀"just one more serve, alright? then you can drag me out, whatever. i don't really want to listen to your self-health lectures right now." his free hand rested on his hips, the volleyball now resting between his waist and underneath his arm, interrupting you as your mouth opened to say something more. you had grown accustomed to tooru's mood swings as time went on; he didn't mean much by it, and you understood his position. his passion towards the sport was what originally captivated you towards the captain in the first place. you weren't exactly part of his fanclub, per se, but you sure as hell were close enough as a member. the only difference between you and the other girls was that you were lucky enough to snag the job as the volleyball club manager.
⠀"one serve, tooru." your arms crossed as you bit back his nasty glare with one of your own. most of the time, it worked. "push your luck and i'll call iwaizumi here to drag you out of the gym himself." you and hajime were always a tag team whenever it came to putting an iron fist down on tooru, though the stubborn male usually only listened to iwa, since he was the one who packed a nasty punch. oikawa did listen to you occasionally, just not as much as you would've liked.
⠀he rolled his eyes and turned away from you in place of a reply, holding the ball out in front of him. he was silent, and so were you. this was his routine for practice, all of his dirty talk could wait for the matches. you moved to his sports bag, sighing to yourself as you saw his cellphone plopped on top of his club jacket like a cherry on top. he must've had his ringer off, which would explain why he didn't pick up any of your calls. crossing your arms lightly over your chest, you watched with intent eyes as your boyfriend tossed his ball into the air, his gaze directly focused on nothing else but the flying object. he began his standard approach, your breath held as the gym exploded with the sound of his palm coming in contact with the volleyball. your eyes could hardly follow its path; you blinked once, and the ball was already bouncing against the wall.
⠀"damn, another fluke." you were about to compliment tooru's killer serve before you listened to him reprimand himself - you could tell this wasn't the first time he scolded himself for a mistake only he could identify. you noticed him walking to grab another ball, but you ran out to him, kicking his targeted ball out of reach before looking up at him and pressing a finger to his chest lightly.
⠀"enough, tooru. you promised me only one more serve. you've done that already, pack up so we can leave already. you have tomorrow to continue."
⠀"what the hell, y/n? i was just going to-"
⠀you knew him way too well to believe his next lie. "don't even try and say you were going to start picking up volleyballs. i see that look in your eyes, as clear as a cloudless day. you were intent on serving again, tooru; you can't lie to me. you-"
⠀"could you just stop already? who are you, my mother?" he clenched his jaw as he swatted your finger away from his chest, storming away from you as he bent down to pick up another ball, just right behind the boundary line. "i know you care, y/n. you make that very clear. but i can take care of myself, okay? just go home."
⠀"tooru-"
⠀"go, y/n."
⠀oh hell no you weren't.
⠀not without him leaving too.
⠀you turned the corner and pretended to leave seijoh, your face faking its exasperation. leaning against the wall right outside of the gym doors, you reached into your front pocket, your phone warm in your hand. unlocking the screen and searching through your contacts, you tapped the call button for the one person that had the ability to drag oikawa out of the gymnasium.
⠀"hello?"
⠀"iwa! thank goodness you answered."
⠀"it's so late, y/n. do you need help burying a body or something?"
⠀"i wish. i hope this isn't too much to ask, but could you please come to seijoh? tooru refuses to stop practicing, and he won't listen to me."
⠀"god, again?" a sigh could be heard from the other line. "yeah, i'll be right there. open the door for me, will you?"
⠀"thank you so much, iwa. i'll be at the door."
⠀you hung up the call, your eyes gazing at the doors as you waited for your friend to appear. you bit down on the side of your cheek and listened to every sound of contact tooru made with every serve. nothing could get him out of his moods - at least, not anything verbal. you'd need physical force to actually get him to step out of the gym doors. hence, why you needed hajime here.
⠀you heard a knock at the door a few minutes later, and you just about sprinted, a gracious smile stretched upon your lips as you allowed iwaizumi into the school. he looked like he rolled out of bed, his mouth in his natrual scowl. when his eyes laid upon you, his glare softened when he looked at your smile. "alright, where is he?"
⠀"in the gym, where he always is."
⠀"allow me." rolling up his own sleeves, the spiky-haired ace marched through the gym doors with you in line behind him, peering over him to look at oikawa's face the moment he was in the setter's line of vision.
⠀"oh, it's iwa. i'm not surprised, y/n is too stubborn to listen to me."
⠀"you're one to talk, shittykawa. don't you know what time it is?" taking out his phone and shaking it to make a point, he wasted no time in walking towards the brunette. you were nervous; usually oikawa would falter at the sight of hajime alone, but tonight seemed to be different. instead of giving in, he merely gave his new company a dirty glare. "go home already. it's late, we have school tomorrow, and the playoffs are soon. you're just going to tire yourself out, and i'll beat your ass if we don't face the other teams at our best." he then chuckled. "i've pulled you out of here myself multiple times, don't think i won't do it again."
⠀oikawa turned his icy stare at you, before glancing back at hajime with a bored yawn. "fine, fine," he retorted, throwing his calloused hands up in mock surrender, "you win, y/n. happy? i'm leaving the gym now, so don't be any more pushy than you have been tonight. it's giving me a headache."
⠀those words hurt more than you thought they would, tooru antagonizing the fact that you were only trying to care for him. your eyes rested at your feet, letting your hair rest in front of your face as you listened to tooru's volleyball shoes walk across the gym. you could hear iwa's as well; the two of them were picking up the volleyballs around the court, but your legs were in no position to help, not with how fragile they felt.
⠀you looked up on time to see oikawa slinging his bag over his shoulder, his nasty little glare plastered all over his face as he began to walk out of the gym. "goodnight," was the only thing he muttered as he brushed against your shoulder with his own on his way out. your head whirled around as you watched your boyfriend walk away without another word. you didn't have it in you to reply.
⠀"are you sure you two are in a relationship?" you jumped at iwa's voice, just noticing him standing beside you. "he didn't even bother asking to drive you home. some boyfriend he is."
⠀"ah, don't be like that, iwa." you forced yourself to laugh at the situation in a desperate attempt to make light of it, but the effort was futile, and utterly pathetic. "tooru's a good boyfriend! he just gets in his moods sometimes, but it happens to the best of us. nothing i can't handle. after a good night's rest, i'm sure he'll be back to normal in no time."
⠀"i hope you're right." he turned to face you, peering down at you before placing both of his hands in his pockets. "do you need a ride home? i know you live close by, but it's gotten colder now, and we can't have our manager catching a cold on us."
⠀this time a real laugh left your system, shrugging your shoulders as you looked to the outside, before back at hajime. he looked pretty serious, despite looking fatigued. "are you sure, iwa? i don't want to bother you with it."
⠀"nonsense." he shook his head. "since your boyfriend couldn't do his job in taking care of you, i'll just drive you home tonight. okay?"
⠀your heart dropped at his words.
⠀your boyfriend couldn't do his job in taking care of you.
⠀"... yeah, okay."
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a / n : JFJSJFJFJF i wrote just a wee bit much , usually i’ll aim for around 1k , maybe a lil less on lazy days . anywho ! ty for reading , i hope you enjoyed part one 🥺
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jafndaegur · 3 years ago
Note
Happy Monday!!! And Happy start to your week!! I hope it’s going well so far?? It’s time for your fluffy ask of the week?? Out of you and Jumin whose the more protective of the other?? ♥️
Hey Lea^^ happy Monday 💕 sorry I haven't answered last week's yet, I just moved and now I have my own place *w*
So the short answer is I think I'm probably more visibly protective of Jumin (but he probably has more influence when protecting me). Not a lot of people know but I can be very aggressive and physical when it comes to my loved ones😅 I have gotten into fights for them sooooo I have a fun drabble that I thought of for this prompt!
TW: brief strong language
"Three hours," Jumin promises and pats my arm as we make it through the foyer attached to the ballroom. "Three hours and then we may return home. This is only a courtesy appearance. Once I'm done greeting the hosts and VIPs, we'll be free for the night."
"Don't worry about me, Juju," I chirp with a weak smile. "It's a free open bar tonight."
He snorts softly. "Of course you looked into that."
"Expect nothing else from me," I giggle.
A gentle smile eases on his face and he gives a slow stroke to my cheek after he glances me over with an appraising look. "You look rather dashing tonight, my dear. I fear you've stolen the breath from my chest."
I shake my head and give him a quick kiss to the cheek. Recently I had started wearing more and more suits, not because I disliked dresses or skirts but because I felt more comfortable in a suit. There's a sensation of power and dominance that came with a pair of slacks and matching jacket-vest set. And that made me more comfortable in my own skin. This would be my first debut at a gala in a suit though. And as nervous as I was, the small triumphant knowledge that Jumin had picked out my three-piece set to match his made me feel as I could conquer this party. Even if it was for a tedious three hours.
"Well, my very loving husband picked this outfit out for me," I grin.
"His taste is impeccable," Jumin pokes back before straightening out his cuff links and then mine. Of course those are matching too.
"Into the fray?" I ask, teetering back on my heels for a moment.
"I'm afraid so," he feigns fear. "Put on your best battle mask, Jaf."
I laugh before following him arm-and-arm into the ballroom.
There's twangy swing being played by a live music group, and the lighting is warm and ambient. Our presence is immediately picked up and announced to the hosts. I give a quick and polite greeting while Jumin dons a placid and neutral business expression. Once it has been hinted that I may leave, I excuse myself from his world.
Making a beeline for the bar, I fully intend to make use of the free liquid courage before going off to socialize. While I'd prefer to avoid conversing with people like the plague, I know it's good for Jumin's image—or ours—if I pretend to take some interest as well. And I want what's best for us, so I'll brave the Janis-faced and sweet snakes for a bit if it'll be good PR.
The bar tender takes my order quickly, a whiskey on the rocks, and passes my drink over.
I take my time to enjoy the woody notes and the fragrant musk of the liquor.
"Did you see what Director Han walked in with?" A voice whispered from beside me at the bar, it sounded as though we were sitting back to back.
I lifted a brow, my cheeks flushing hot. Talking about someone at a party? Classy.
A second voice chimed in. "Tch. That woman's infuriating."
"The fact that he's tied himself to her is absolutely idiotic." The first voice nearly growls, nails tapping along the wood of the bar.
Well thank you, I allow a small smirk over the rim of my glass before ordering a double.
They move on from the subject, momentarily, which gives me more time to enjoy my drink. Regrettably the respite doesn't last long as the two decided Jumin and I were optimum gossip. They continue.
"It certainly does nothing for him." The second agrees. "I'd go as far as to say he's less desirable now—as any sort of partner."
Now wait just one minute. I grip my glass tight.
"He needs someone elegant and pristine, like him. Someone who can sweep through a room with ease," the first complained in exasperation. "Instead what did he get? A masculine broad trying to walk side by side with him. His choice isn't just disrespectful to the people around him but to his family as well."
"Has he no respect for himsel—"
"I wonder if you two have any self-respect, gabbing in the open like this." I push myself away from the bar, having had enough of their conversation.
There's sharp intakes of breath as the two women turn to look at me. They're both wearing typical and gaudy cocktail dresses, with overly done hair and make-up to boot. Their expressions are mixed between incredulous and outraged.
"How rude!" The first snaps. "Eavesdropping on a private conversation, have you any manners?"
There's a swell of conflict that rushes my chest, a fight between my social anxiety and my sense to punch the daylights out of her plastic nose.
"Oh, only a few manners," I step closer. "But that's certainly more than you."
She garbles out an incoherent string of words while her friend butts-in.
"You!" The second squawks like a bird. "You're just going to keep soiling Director Han's public image aren't you?"
There's a snap in my head, like a wire being cut or a fuse being short-circuited. Before I know it, I grab her by the front of her dress and pull her forward. A growl tears past my throat.
"Now you listen here," my voice is low and furious, snarling through grit teeth. "My deeds have ruined only my own fucking appearance, kay? Nothing, not a goddamn thing, about Jumin has been ruined. My own flaws and problems are my own. Not his."
She stutters, taken aback. And her friend gawks with words dying on her tongue. Their silence morphs into squawky panic. I smirk.
A hand slides across the small of my back and I nearly stumble back as Jumin draws me against his side. I release the woman quickly, allowing myself to be herded to his warmth with only a half hearted protest.
"Darling, I see you've acquainted yourself with the Gim sisters. Their father owns the textile company C&R works closely with." He states very matter-of-factly.
"We were just introducing ourselves," I grumble, wondering why it sounds like I'm the one getting scolded.
The other two women seem equally enthused about our supposed introductions.
Jumin continued. "Yes well, since both sisters are here, it's a phenomenal opportunity to let you two know C&R will diverging from our partnership with Gim Textiles."
The woman again were rendered speechless, mouths open like fish gasping for water.
"After all, I would hate that such an undesirable partner like myself and my company be partnered with yours," he smiles sweetly and I feel myself practically preen with glee. "Consider this an extension of generosity and consideration."
Jumin guides us away from them with a call over his shoulder. "I do hope you two enjoy the party. Let your father know he'll hear from my secretary concerning the contract nullification process."
I giggle, trying to hide the laughs behind my hand. "Oh my God, Jumin!"
"Hush," his lips quirk up even as he tries to maintain his cool exterior.
"You're just as bad as me!" I squeak in delight.
He lifts a brow. "I overheard the last bits of the conversation. I could not abide them talking ill of you."
"They were talking shitty about you first," I grumble. "Me nearly throttling her doesn't really help disprove what she said about me."
He's quiet for a moment before he smiles genuinely. "I disagree. How heroic it was for you to come and defend me when I could not."
"Okay, now you're exaggerating," I laugh as we walk aimlessly through the party.
"Hardly." The timbre of his voice is tender and proud. "It was quite attractive, seeing you so...passionate."
"I think the word you're looking for is agressive," I huff, before resting my head against his arm. "But I'm glad you liked it."
He gives my waist a light squeeze. I know we won't leave the party yet, we both have obligations to fill. But as far as anymore rude chatter about Jumin's choice of partner, that was left well enough alone. We'd both made our stances on the matter well known.
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devinescribe · 3 years ago
Text
Ruin Us
Chapter 14 to '100 Promises'
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, mentions of rape, death threats, panic attacks and I think that's about it
You hoped you didn't have nightmares.
But hoping for such a thing was wishful thinking.
"No... nonononono, silly girl! He's not here. You should check down there, I heard his father called for him," the voice taunted. You hated that voice. "Oh! Or maybe he's up there! Where you found his note! Maybe he really did it this time!"  You stood in a dark room. The walls, floor, ceiling were pitch black. There was only light was a dim light where you stood.
You didn't know where the voice was coming from. All you knew was that it was taunting you.
"He's fine," you said, your hands shaking even though your voice sounded brave. "Is he?" The voice laughed. "Nonononononono! I think you're mistaken! He's over here!" The voice said, getting distorted with every 'no' it said. In the room, a screen in front of you lit up. It showed a video of you two being on the roof, and suddenly him falling off. You gasped. Another screen lit up. Another, another, another. And which each one, a new way of him dying.
You covered your ear. You couldn't stand it. All around you was noise. He was crying. He was screaming. He was begging you to help. You couldn't. You screamed, "Stop it! Make it stop!"  repeatedly as if it would. All the screens shut off. You were panting, and shaking, tears you didn't know had formed fell from your eyes. You dropped to the floor. "You're a liar! He's fine!" You screamed out into the darkness. You heard slow dragging footsteps getting close to you. "Is he? Or are you lying again?" The voice said. As it got closer, you started to recognize it. "You're a liar liar pants on fire!" The voice sounded younger this time. Even still, you knew who it was. "Liar! Why are you such a liar!" It shouted, going back to sounding like him. Just distorted. The footsteps got even closer, and you could finally see the body of the person. The face was covered by the shadows. "I'm not a liar! Not! I'm not I'm not I'm not!" You shouted. "You are! Liar!" It hissed. Why was it saying it in his voice? It hurt so much more coming from him. "I-i didn't lie to you, I promise!" You whimpered. "You promised you wouldn't lie... why would you lie to me? I trusted you," he asked. It sounded like he was crying. "I-i didn't! You can still trust me!" You cried. "Why did you lie to me?"
You woke up with a start, sitting up. You gasped, holding a hand to your chest. You looked besides you. Niragi was still there. You started crying quietly, curling up next to him. "Hngh... eh? What's wrong sweetheart?" You heard Niragi groan sleepily. "I-it was so scary!" You whimpered, hiding your face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly. "Are you mad at me? I'm sorry I lied to you, I was scared I'm sorry please don't hate me," you rambled, tears soaking through his shirt. " 'M not mad... we talked about this already. I'm just happy you're ok... did you have a nightmare?" He asked. You nodded.
You had been having a lot of nightmares recently. Most having to do with Niragi. This was one of the worst ones.
You had had nightmares since you were a kid. You had them when you met Niragi. You've kept having them into your adult life.
You woke up with a start. Without thinking, you wiped the tears from your eyes, and got up from bed. You went over to the balcony, and started to climb down the stairs you had made.
You were soon on the ground, and ran over to Niragis house. His light wasn't on like it usually was. Was he a sleep? Then you saw a sticky note on his window. ''I'm in the tree house working on something. If you need anything don't be afraid to go back there. There's a flashlight in the bush by my window since I know you're scared of being alone in the dark. Be safe (Y/N)," you read the note. You sniffled, and found the flashlight.
Walking through the path at night was terrifying. Anything or anyone could jump out at any moment.
But the safety of the lights on in the tree house, made you run to it. You found the ladder, held the flashlight in your mouth, and began climbing. Once you got up there, you saw Niragi working on something on the desk. Just like his note had said.  "Gi-gi..." you whispered. He turned around with a smile. Whatever he was working on on his desk, he hid from your view. "(Y/N), what's up?" He asked. You walked over, but he stopped you. "Here, let's go over there," he said, grabbing your hand. He lead you over to the beanbag chairs you had.
"So, what's up?" He asked once more. "Had a nightmare," you whispered. It must have been bad if you came out to look for him. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked. "It was really scary this time! I-i didn't know if it was a dream, or if... if it had really happened, so I came to look for you. You always make me feel better," you whimpered, hugging him. He hugged you back, knowing you were probably not feeling the best right now. If you were crying it must be bad. "It's ok... tell me if you want," he whispered. You nodded, and he got up, leading you with him. First, he grabbed some blankets, and then he turned off the light. You followed him around, till he pulled you down on the beanbags again. "And you made me get up why?" You asked with a small laugh. "Because. Anyways... you still want to talk about it?"
"Are you ok? Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, yawning after he finished. You looked over seeing it was 2 am. You had woken him up. It seemed like you couldn't do anything right this night. You felt so utterly guilty, helpless, and tired that you just started sobbing. "I- I'm sorry imsorryimsorryimsorry," you apologized through hiccuping sobs. He looked down through sleepy eyes, and gently rubbed your back. "It's alright... you didn't do anything wrong sweetheart," he whispered. That nickname... Why was it making you feel weird?
"Sweetheart-"
"My sweetheart-"
"- sweetheart"
That's why. It's the nickname he had had for his ex girlfriends. He was tired, he probably wasn't thinking straight. No way would he call you that nickname if he weren't so tired.
It was reserved for his lovers. You knew you weren't his lover. It made you feel ...
Sad?
Why would you be sad, you liked him as a friend, didn't you?
"C-can... can I tell you... why I hadn't told you about what happened?" You whispered. "Of course. Go ahead," he said softly.
"If you tell that fucking loser what happened here today, you're dead. And so is he. Got it?" They threatened, gripping onto your hair tightly, pulling you up by it. You tried nodding, tears falling from your eyes. "I can't fucking hear you, slut," one spat, pulling a knife from his pocket. You flinched. "Y-yes! I got it!" You shouted through sobs. He let you go, your body falling to the ground. "Good. Let's go."
You lay there, unable to move. Not because of them, but because you couldn't. Getting up meant having to face the reality of what happened. Getting up would mean going home, cleaning up, and pretending this hadn't happened. Getting up would mean not telling Niragi. Getting up to you, meant letting them win.
But you had to get up.
So you did. Picking yourself off from the floor, you leaned on the tree behind you for support. You found your backpack, and grabbed it quickly, not wanting to stay here for a minute longer. Then you remembered that your clothes must be stained. You looked down to see blood running down your leg. "This really fucking happened...." you whimpered as tears filled your eyes. You fell to your knees, clutching your chest. You let out a loud scream as sobs racked through your whole body. You were scared, dirty, and guilty. All you could think about was having to face Niragi. Having to look at him, reminding him of the promises you'd made, but breaking one of them without him knowing. For the rest of your life. You felt horrible. You wanted to go home, and fall asleep forever.
"(Y-y/N)... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I blew up at you about it sweetheart. I was being really fucking selfish darling. You... you've been through much more than I have. Yet you're still a better fucking person than I'll ever be. I... I had no right to be angry, upset, or disappointed in you. I didn't. It wasn't fair to you," he apologized, holding onto your tightly. You sniffled, snuggling into him further. '' S'ok... you didn't know," you whispered. "No. It's not. It's not ok at all. This is what I mean! You've only known people being cruel to you! Your father, the guys at school, people at work, goddammit people on the streets! And you've only ever been kind! Even when people don't deserve your forgiveness you give it to them! You might be cruel sometimes, but you've only been cruel to those who deserve it! My mother was kind! I had you! My grandmother! Your grandmother! I had a girlfriend in high school for a while! People have been kind to me, but I'm the worst fucking person! I don't... I don't deserve... your forgiveness," he yelled, sitting up, getting quieter at the end. He hated how he made this about himself. He didn't mean to, he really didn't. It just came out. "That's not true Suguru. You do deserve it. I've had people that were kind to me. I had you. I didn't need anything else. That was enough for me," you said, sitting up next to him. You put a hand on his shoulder, and smiled. "It's (Y/N) and Suguru against the world, forever and always right?" You giggled. "Yeah... (Y/N) and Suguru against the world... forever and always," he answered.
His thoughts were getting clouded over. You were there. You were so sweet. So nice. Adventurous, crazy, synical, caring, apathetic, confident, clever, funny. Everything at once. A contradiction of a woman. Perfect. That was another way to describe you. Everything he's ever wanted. He turned to face you, noticing how your eyes kept glancing at him.
You were also trapped in your thoughts. He had called you sweetheart and darling. While he was no longer tired. Two names reserved for lovers. What did that mean? Was he just overcome with emotion in that moment? He was your best friend. You did notice the butterflies in your stomach when he had said it. Each time seeming stronger than the last. A feeling of that's the way it was supposed to be. Like he was meant to call you those things. Like those words were made specifically for him to call you by them. You saw him staring at your face, trying to study you as well.
"Do you need something?" You asked with a smile. "Yeah, actually. You."
That was all he said, before pulling you into him. Your lips met with his own, and it felt like a puzzle was finally solved. A story getting it's happy ending. Magic. You kissed him back with just as much passion. It felt right. For his hands to be on you. For his lips to be on your own. For his skin to be on yours. It had felt right back then, and it still felt right now.
All the years that you had wondered why your relationships didn't work out were answered with this one kiss. Niragi. It was because you never loved them. You loved Niragi.
Niragi felt the same. Questions that were finally answered to him as well. He now knew his mother was right. He really did love you. That's why he never had interest in anyone. The girls he dated or slept with had never really been interesting to him. He only dated them to not make them feel bad. But really, it was you. You were the right choice...
And then he pulled away. Just as suddenly as the kiss had happened. "I... I need to go," he stated, getting off of your bed, out towards the door. "W-wait I-"
Before you could finish your sentence, he was gone. Out of the door, leaving you alone, confused, and sad. "Of course he regretted it... he doesn't like me that way. He was just in an emotional state that clouded his judgement... I... I am but a fool if I thought anything besides that," you whispered as tears filled your eyes.
As soon as he closed the door to your room, he ran into his.
"Fuck! Why did I do that? 15 years of friendship ruined. Gods I'm so dumb!" He yelled into his pillow. He didn't notice the tears that stained his pillow. He didn't care. 'Now you're truly alone. Great job. You're so good at ruining things Niragi. It should be your professional job! Niragi Suguru, professional opportunity ruiner! Niragi Suguru professional loner! You're so good at being alone, count that as the only thing you're good at!' The voice in his head taunted him. It taunted him for being so stupid to think a woman like you would ever love someone like him. For being alone. It brought up the fact he was alone so much, he felt his room grow smaller, and the breath in his lungs grow shorter. He couldn't see straight. His chest felt tight. The darkness in his room grew darker. Until he passed out.
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jkbabiey · 4 years ago
Text
{JJK} Say it ⤇ 1
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Pairing:  fuckboy!jungkook x student!reader
Word Count: ~2.88 K
Genre: actually... I don’t even know; some angst in the beginning, and then there’s that flirty smutty tension between the reader and kook; college!AU
Warnings: Jungkook seems to be a dick and Y/N can be kinda rude but it’s fine, she’s a sweetheart. There are some very soft mentions of sex and a very very annoying kook omg
YOU SHOULD PAY ATTENTION TO THE DATES IN THIS FANFIC
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22nd of August, 2023
It was about 3 am when you heard the doorbell. 
It was him.
Your irritation had nothing to do with sleepiness or with the late-night hour he chose to come by. You were awake, there’s no way you’d be able to sleep. You haven’t slept well since the night he let you go. Your irritation had to do with him; he wouldn’t be at your door if he wasn’t drunk or horny, and the fact that he didn’t understand this type of “meetings” wouldn’t be happening after that same night, pissed you off.
You were extremely pissed off.
Your anger was long gone as soon as you opened the door. He wasn’t drunk, and he sure as hell didn’t look horny, he was completely broken. His eyes were red and his face was puffy, he was a mess. If this had happened a month ago, you would have hugged him right away, trying to give him as much as a sense of comfort as you could and right now, you were trying to fight the urge to do exactly that. You had spent almost three weeks trying to convince yourself that he was a bad person and you weren't willing to give up all of your progress. Even though the look he was sending your way was yearning - almost begging - for some comfort coming from you.
His gaze was intense. He stared at you as if begging you to do something, he was lost, he had been for a long time now. He was begging you to let him in, and let him do whatever he wanted. He wanted you to do what you always did, he wanted to feel you. He wanted to feel as if he wasn’t as lost as he actually knew he was. You always made him feel like at least something in his life was worth it, and that something was you.
“Please let me in.” his voice was hoarse. 
You didn’t budge. You just stood there, looking at him dead in the eye. What the fuck were you supposed to do in this situation? You were so hopeless about anything that had to do with him at this point you couldn’t even speak. 
You didn’t say a word, but he understood just what was going through your mind. He knew how caught up in your thoughts you could get and how much of a rational person you were. But right now there was nothing minimally rational you could do. Nothing about your relationship was rational.
He stepped closer to you and closed the door behind him, not breaking the eye contact once. That has always been his way to get more intimate with you, to make you open up to him. 
His hand made its way to your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. His heart softened when he noticed the way you leaned into his touch.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as his face got closer to yours, you could see the guilt in his eyes, even though your vision was already blurred up by the tears that managed to well up in your eyes.
His free hand rested on your shoulder, trying to push you towards him, but you stayed still, refusing to give in.
“Please Y/N… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said that night, I just, I’ve never felt like this with anyone else before you, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do, or say, or how to deal with any of this- fuck” he paused, taking the hand that was previously resting on your shoulder to his face, rubbing it harshly. “ and I am sorry…” he finally finished.
Your tears were already running free, and your face was probably a mess, but you didn’t care.
“Say it,” You said sternly even though your voice was already wavering. He knew what you were referring to, of course he did. He was a very intelligent guy, even though he usually pretended no to be.
“I’m telling you what to do now, Jungkook, just say it,” you whispered, closing your eyes for a moment.
He looked at you, pain evident on his face, he didn’t want to say it. Not because he didn’t feel the same way you did, but because he wasn’t brave enough to admit that he feels, that he can feel something as dangerous as love.
He opened his mouth several times, just to close it again. He couldn’t say it, he was so afraid. 
Yeah… Jungkook was afraid. 
He was known by everyone around the city for being fearless. Because that was what he wanted people to think. He smokes, his body is embellished with tattoos, and he has fucked almost every girl in the town, forgetting their names the day after.
... But Jungkook was all talk.
He liked to be known, desired and even feared by some, but now, here he was, begging you to let him in.
Neither of you knew what to do. You were both scared. But then you understood he wasn’t able to cross that line, and ignoring all the urges to kiss him right there, take all of his worries and insecurities off his chest and the doubtful look off his eyes, you decided to put an end to that.
“Get out.” 
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11th of February, 2023
You were completely covered in work, sitting on your living room’s floor. Anatomy books all around you. This had already became a very typical Saturday night for you. Your house was a complete mess, you didn’t even manage to find time to eat, how would you have time to clean your small apartment? 
Med school wasn’t easy, it was far from easy. There was so much effort you had to put into it. You barely had a social life. Actually, all you had was your sister, your best friend, and a few friends from med school. You weren't particularly the social butterfly, and you couldn't really blame med school for that, you never liked to have many people around you. If you want to be a doctor, you have to forget having a life apart from the hospital, your full attention has to be directed to studying so you can save lives in the future. 
The thing is, you’ve wanted to be a doctor since you were 14 years old. You worked your ass off so that you could have the perfect grades, and get into med school without any problem. You knew it was going to be hard from the beginning, but you were a girl that like challenges, you loved being challenged; your competitive nature implied it. You have always liked to get things the hard way. Easy was boring.
You’ve always set your goals very high. You were an overachiever. And you were stubborn, you would never give up on your dreams. These were great characteristics for an aspiring doctor. You were sure you were on the right path.
Your studies were interrupted when Maggie, your sister, barged into your house. She had a spare key, you gave it to her when you moved into this apartment. She has always been your confidant, you told her every single thing that happened in your life. She knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything about her. Your relationship has always been awesome, you’ve always treated each other as best friends and not really as sisters. 
You had told her how stressed you were about med school the night prior, and you could hear in her voice how worried she got about your mental health, even though, the situation wasn’t that bad, she tended to exaggerate. So it wasn’t really surprising that she was in your apartment, all excited, telling you, you were going to a party tonight because you needed to get loose. 
And even though you could see how happy and full of good intentions she was, you almost laughed at her face, well... actually, you really did laugh, a lot. It was just a really funny and almost ridiculous idea. It was really stupid of her to even think you would waste a night of study, for a party. You didn't even like parties!
You hated parties, actually!
You've always been kind of an introvert. You liked to have your own space, you loved to be alone, you loved to read, and you didn't like having other people invading your personal space. 
"What are you even saying?" you asked, still laughing.
Your sister's expression fell the moment you said that, almost mocking her.
"We are going out, I already talked to Vicky, she's coming with us. Get ready, you have one hour, we are leaving at 9pm and we still have to pick Vicky up"
Vicky was your best friend, you were so surprised Maggie got her to leave her house. Vicky was also an introvert, she was even worse than you.
"Hurry up!" she screamed, already impatient.
You were left staring at her, completely dumbfounded, before she grabbed your arm and pushed you into the bathroom.
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You were already in Maggie's car. The tight black dress you were wearing was utterly and completely uncomfortable. The three of you were already on your way to the party, you couldn't be more panicked. You haven't come to a party since you were 15, you didn't even know how to act in a party, what were you supposed to do? You looked at Vicky, in the backseat, she was just as nervous as you were, you couldn't find her situation more relatable. Your eyes crossed and you both knew what each of you was feeling at that exact moment.
It had always been like this. You've always understood and known each other like the back of your hands. Your mothers were best friends, and when she was born, you were only one year old. You grew together and got used to each others' presence. Now you were almost inseparable. 
When you got to the party, the smell of smoke and the loud suggestive music invaded your senses. You weren't used to this kind of environment, and you didn't like it, not one bit.
In the middle of the party, Maggie was already on the dance floor, and she had already denied dancing with at least 5 different guys. Everyone was just so drawn to her, you couldn't blame them. Maggie was absolutely stunning, she had always been the pretty girl of the family. Vicky was seated beside you at the bar when Maggie came and basically pulled her to dance. She tried to do the same with you, but she gave up as soon as you sent her your most intimidating gaze.
"Sorry, can I get a cosmopolitan, please?" you asked the bartender. If your friends dragged you here, you should, at least, drink something, right?
The bartender gave you your drink a bit after matched with an apologetic look, probably used to seeing other people in the same situation you were. 
Sipping your drink you looked up to see all kind of people dancing and laughing at each other. This couldn't really be considered dancing, all everybody attempted to do was grinding on each other, exchanging partner if their rhythms of grinding weren’t similar. Disgusting. Purely disgusting.
Your discomfort only increased when your eyes locked with another pair of brown orbs, that were already fixed on yours. His gaze was intense, so intense that he got you shifting in your seat and adjusting your dress, so it would cover your legs properly - if that was even possible. He must have noticed your agitation because you swear to god, you saw him smirking. You tried looking somewhere else, but his gaze was fixed on you, and at some point, you forgot the nervousness you had felt some seconds before, giving up on keeping your eyes away and looking straight at him. All your confidence was long gone when he decided to stand up and started walking towards you, never breaking the eye contact.
You haven't really noticed how attractive that stranger was but now that his face was lightened up by the red neon lights of the pub you were in, you could see it perfectly. His face was flawless - his dark hair was pulled back as if he had just run his fingers through it, his gaze was sharp and intense, you could see he felt challenged, looking straight at your eyes, his lips were slightly parted, and apparently moisturized and you could clearly see how chiselled his jawline was. 
For your contentment, he looked away first, but kept his eyes on you, analyzing your body now. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt, but the muscles beneath it were definitely noticeable. His arms were also muscular and he had some tattoos covering them. The tight jeans he was wearing left you almost drooling at how muscular and defined his tights seemed to be. His steps were languid and slow. The tension between you two was palpable, and while you were focused on his eyes and the desire that they exuded, everyone else was gone, it was just the two of you.
What a fucking prick... 
"Hey princess," he said when he got to your side, sitting in one of the fancy stools that stood by the bar after pulling it closer to yours. 
If he thinks that with that little fuckboy talk he's going to take you to bed, he's wrong. So wrong...
"You should get back to your friends." he was taken aback by your words, it was obvious by the way he looked at you, but the surprised look didn't last long, quickly being replaced by that stupidly desirable smirk he'd been wearing since his eyes laid on your figure and a soft tilt os his head.
"You were so excited looking at me across the room... Acting all confident. Now that I'm finally here, you send me away... Am I making you nervous, baby?"
"God, you're so full of yourself... Is that your tactic to get girls to go home with you?" you looked at him, clearly annoyed. 
It was clear he wasn't liking how rude you were sounding, but you couldn't care less. 
He laughed a bit, low and hoarsely, amused by how feisty you were, getting even closer to you, after poking the inside of his cheek.
"You think I want to take you home?" he looked at your eyes defyingly, clearly mocking you. His face was so close to yours that you could see the rage he was feeling and hiding, almost flawlessly, through his eyes. "I wouldn't want to take you home." he stared, waiting for you to snap. God, he was so rude.
"Fuck off," you said with a neutral voice, daring to send him a little ironic smile.
"I'm not sayin' I'm not up to fuck you, but not necessarily in my house" he chuckled in a low tone and looked at you with the same challenging look he was wearing earlier. He was severely testing your patience, but you were determined to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your cool.
You looked at him. The disgust you were feeling was evident, he noticed it.
"When are you going to shut the fuck up?" you asked, almost losing your patience, which you'd been preserving for a long time now.
You stood up, ready to leave him there. 
He was ready to say something else but noticing you had already left he was left staring at your uncovered back and your hips that were adorned by your tight little black dress. 
You knew you were one hell of a woman. You've always had your insecurities just like everyone else, but you knew how beautiful you were on top of all those imperfections.
You looked back and smirked when you saw him staring at your ass, biting his bottom lip.
You sat in a velvety sofa in the bar, still holding your drink, but the thought of those lips and shiny eyes was still haunting you, and the fact that he was still persistently staring your way wasn't helping. You felt your body relax a bit when he finally stood up and stepped towards the dance floor.
A while later, Maggie and Vicky were walking towards the couch you were sitting on and threw themselves on it, completely wasted.
"Hey, I gave your number to a really hot guy. I think you're getting laid in the next week!" Vicky screamed at the top of her lungs excitedly and you wondered who she could be talking about, running your eyes through the unfamiliar faces that filled the bar.
“Finally!” Maggie added to Vicky’s exaggerated statement.
Your heart stopped the moment your eyes locked with the ones you've been dreadfully thinking about for the last hour. He was smirking as if he had heard your friends - which he probably did. 
He studied your expression falling as realization fell on you. He had won. And when you found yourself lost in his eyes from across the room, imagining what he could do to you, you were pretty sure you had lost.
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turnscote · 3 years ago
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Henlo I made a thing
愛言葉 (Love Words)
You've actually been Looking out for me since childhood You've always heard me out, so you Deserve a lot of my thanks.
しわ (Wrinkles)
Spending years with the person you love, I wonder how much time has passed like this “When either of us passes away, we’ll smile” That was our promise, do you remember?
オリオンの夢 (Dream of Orion)
Even if we become stars before we know it, And even if we don't have freakin' eternal lives, Let me have the dream of that one day. Our Orion.
Astronauts
I wish I lived alone and I wouldn't get you into my troubles. But then I would spend my life without knowing you.
夏恋花火 (Summer Love Fireworks)
The imprint of the firework which contained my wish was floating in the night sky I looked up to the fragile lights- like in a prayer I muttered with a voice nobody could hear "Please don't disappear" Softly, in the place where our hands met, a light came to live
スターマイン (Star Mine)
Rings of lights are spreading in the night sky They began to cover us You smiled, and I smiled back A love bloomed at the summer night
ドナーソング (Donor Song)
My heart, my liver, my kidneys, my pancreas, My cells, my lungs, my intestines, and my eyes, too. If it’s for someone else’s sake. It’s all fine by me. A world without you in it wouldn’t be worth anything.
Calc.
So every answer I calculated comes with one or two sacrifices, robbing me of the courage I need to take the next step.
fix
I fell in love with you over and over again, only to receive this heart-rending pain. When I came to my senses, my palms have turned so cold, as if to remind me of how far we’ve come apart.
bitter
Through the crevices of this town dyed in orange, I was thinking that I could walk alone And yet the voice of you who is here can still be heard Just that is enough to make me unable to move.
rain stops, good-bye
When I was running away from the truth, I almost fell And when I did fall, I could see the sky To you who doesn't hate the cold rain, It won't be delivered
drop
Within those fading memories, Quietly you remain deeply colored Though it hurts, I want to see you Even though right now I'm no longer needed
from Y to Y
I turned my back and walked away I had to go before I started to cry I pretended I hated being too happy, Put on a brave face, and let go of my ideal future And the wish I would never get back
kiss
Let's share a seemingly broken kiss Lips touching until even the sky itself begins to ache Burn this moment into your memories I'll leave behind these wounds that won't fade away
シザーハンズ (Scissorhands)
Everything I see through my eyes remains distorted. This hand of mine cannot even caress your cheek. If that's the case, just how can I protect your smile? Since the only thing I can do is wounding others, I'll just eliminate anyone who picks on you.
心拍数♯0822 (Heart Rate#0822)
As long as my heart is still beating, I want to protect you That's enough of a reason for me to live I wonder just how many times I can still say "I love you" So let me be grateful for the fact that I can be here Thank you, simply for the fact that I'm alive.
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bigilante · 5 years ago
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Jaded • Chapter ix
«fwb!au» «harrison osterfield x reader»
|| warnings: cursing. || word count: 2.4k ||
« previous • m a s t e r l i s t • next »
HARRISON FOUND HIMSELF CONFLICTED on whether or not he was taking advantage of the situation but he couldn't help himself, it just felt so right when y/n's mother had asked if they were together and the girl was quick to blurt out that they were. He knew she said it out of panic but he felt so good inside when the older woman asked him to stay and called him ‘The Boyfriend’ when she did, causing him to stumble on his words and thoughts to agree on staying with them even though he had planned on leaving them alone so they could have some girl time.
But in all honesty the last thing the boy wanted to do was leave y/n’s side while she was still feeling the late side effects of the pill she had to take. So in that aspect he was glad he stayed behind to make sure she was okay, and spend a quiet day in with her since he hadn't seen her since the morning after they've been to the pub.
“Will’s coming over.” She announced after her mother left, she was folding the throws and putting them back on their place rightful place on the backrest of the sofa. Harrison felt a weird feeling in his chest and his stomach sunk a little at the mention of another guy’s name, a name he wasn’t so familiar with.
“Want me to leave?”
“Hm.” She shrugged and slowly, almost shyly settled on his lap, tucking her face under his chin letting her arms wrap around him loosely. Harrison’s arms subconsciously wrapped equally loosely around her, his fingers caressing her exposed side scurrying to her back inside the hoodie she was wearing. He could feel her breathing in his neck, her nails gently scratching his ribs then she properly hugged him, squeezing him a little.
"Is there something you wanna say?" Harrison prompted, feeling as if she was holding back on something.
"Mmh, just sort of wanna make out until Will's here." Her hands moved up to his neck as she threw her head back to look at him better. "Can we?" She asked hopeful and Harrison pretended to be thinking about it, causing the girl to whimper. "Kiss me, you idiot." She chuckled cradling his face in her hands and bringing him close to hers, lips brushing while she smiled then she kissed him. Lips slotting together perfectly and moving in synch against each other.
Harrison's arms held her close, while her hands scurried through his hair, playing with it slowly and soothingly. At some point he leaned down to propped her on the cushions to be in a more comfortable position while they made out. The way she was kissing him was different, almost as if she meant it. As if it wasn't just a simple kiss, it was gentle and soft but deep and full of something Harrison wasn't brave enough to point out, just in case it wasn't that and would end up breaking his heart. The ringing of the doorbell shook them away from the beautiful trance they were in and the girl whined.
"Ugh, Will!" She groaned, but she just pulled Harrison in for a tight hug, her face buried in his shoulder until the bell rang again. "He's back in my life for a week and he's already annoying me." She huffed comically, reluctantly sitting up to go buzz him in but before she fully got up she kissed Harrison's cheek then his lips. The boy watched her pad to the front door unlocking it and pressing the intercom, "Doors unlock, babe." There was a sort of robotised response that Harrison couldn't understand but made the girl giggle.
"Should I... Go?"
"No." She said a little high pitched, her brows furrowed slightly, "You've never met Will, have you?" She asked, walking back to the living room with him.
"Mmh, no that I recall." The blonde mumbled. Just when she was about to speak the front door swung opened and a tall, mildly tanned guy with his hands occupied by a bottle of wine and a big Greggs bag stood with his arms up showing what he had brought.
"I've got wine and donuts!" He announced, closing the door with his foot. "Oh, you've got company." Will said more quietly, lowering his arms as he stood still by the front door.
"Yeah, I do." Y/n chuckled and walked towards the kitchen, Harrison gave the guy a half smile and a forced wave from the sofa. Will smiled back at him and nodded as he approached the living room.
"Hi, I'm Will." The dark-haired guy introduced himself once he put down the things he was carrying.
"Harrison."
“Uuhh. Are you y/n’s man?” Will asked, making Harrison open his mouth but he didn’t know what to say. Well, he knew he had to say that he wasn’t, he just didn’t want to.
“Shut up, William. He’s my best friend.” Y/n answered for him, the tone of her voice sounded so over Will’s comment it made the blonde look down at the wine bottle on the coffee table. She stood in front of him with two wine glasses in one hand, and a beer bottle on the other.
“Oh! The BRIT school best friend?” The guy inquired and y/n nodded her head. “Heard so much about you back in the day.”
“Good things, I hope.” 
“You literally don't have a speck of dust on you, Haz.” The girl handed him the beer and lovingly ruffled his curls.
“In her eyes you’ve always been a good guy. Don’t worry.” Will whispered, sending him a wink while a smirk tugged at the left corner of his full lips. Will and y/n got lost in conversation, Harrison could barely keep up with the speed they were going at so he switched off for a bit, absently sipping the beer y/n had given him until Will brought him back from his disassociation.
“Mmh?” He hummed, turning to look at the tanned guy next to him on the sofa. His brows lifting expectantly awaiting for him to keep talking.
“You’ll be y/n’s plus one for the wedding, right?” Will said and Harrison looked from him to y/n, who was looking at him over the brim of the wine glass as she sipped, rolling her eyes playfully.
“What wedding?” 
“Mine! Oh my god boy, focus!” Will groaned.
“Uh. Yeah, sure. If she wants me to be.” The boy adjusted his position on the sofa as he said it, his leg was numb from sitting on it for a bit too long.
“Of course she wants you to.” The guy lifted his phone and winced a little,  “Anyway, I’m gonna head out now. It’s quite late and my man must be home already.” Will sighed, getting up from the sofa. He stuffed his phone in his jeans and leaned down to kiss y/n’s cheek then he waved at Harrison. “See you.” With that he left, allowing the pair to be alone once more. 
“Do you really wanna go to the wedding with me?” She asked sweetly, getting up from the puff where she had been sitting for the past few hours and settled back on the sofa next Harrison. 
“Only if you really want me to go.” He offered, resting his temple on the backrest of the sofa, his gaze locked on hers. The girl’s face lit up with a big toothy smile and she nodded enthusiastically.
“Of course I want you to go with me, silly.” Y/n responded, grabbing his hand and starting to twist the silver ring he wore on his middle finger. Both remained quiet for a few seconds, enjoying the silence.
“So, Will and Matt.”
“Yeah.” She snickered knowing exactly what he meant to say but was too cautious to really say it, “Recent news for me too.”
“What?” The blonde furrowed his brows in confusion.
“Yeah. I met Will in my internship with the company. We became close really quickly, he was like my soulmate and you know, dumb me goes and falls in love with him because that’s what I do when someone shows me any type of affection ‘cause I’m that stupid.” She scoffed. “So, on his birthday I took him on a relaxing weekend to Chewton Glen Hotel. You know? The one with the treehouses?” She paused, waiting until he nodded to carry on. “And I was like ‘yeah, this is a great moment to jump on him and kiss him’ because, I repeat, I’m that stupid.” Her eyes rolled as her fingers began to run up and down his. “And well, he just didn’t reciprocate, obviously because he’s gay. But he was closeted then and naturally I didn't realise because I'm thick.”
“And what happened after? Why did I never met him. You never talked about him.”
“I ran out of the hotel, came back to London and ghosted him for two years.” She explained nonchalantly.
“Y/n/n!” 
“I was embarrassed and devastated! I’ve lived that twice. Twice!” She emphasised putting two of her digits up in his face. “Then I started to fuck around because what’s the point in looking for love right?” Her words made Harrison look sadly at her and she noticed. “Don’t look at me like that! You’ve never been rejected by the person you’re in love with.” She defended herself, letting go of his hand to run her fingers through her hair. “Anyway, we bumped into each other in Boots and he came out to me. Now we’re good again.” Y/n finished, leaving Harrison thinking on what to say next, ultimately deciding to try and lighten the mood.
“So he’s your soulmate, huh?” He pointed out, funnily feigning jealousy. But there was a hint of that feeling inside him when she referred to Will that way.
“Harrison Osterfield, is that jealousy?” She grinned, Harrison only scoffed and rolled his eyes at her, sending his gaze to the turned off TV keeping up his dignified act. “No one compares to you, H.” The girl murmured, causing the boy’s heart to suddenly speed up and beat in his ears. Blood rushing to his cheeks when he glanced back to her. “You’ve always been there for me. Even when you had no idea what I was going through.” Her fingers laced with his and he squeezed her hand gently. “You look adorable when you blush.” Y/n beamed at him then brought him in for a hug. “Besides, Will could never fuck me like you do.” She whispered in his ear in a mischievous tone.
“Oh god. You’ve ruined the moment.” Harrison groaned, her jokes were always so untimely. Maybe she was trying to destroy tender moments, maybe. She laughed against his shoulder prompting him to chuckle along until she went quiet then let out a long yawn. “Why don’t you go to bed?”
“I’m good.” Y/n mumbled, nuzzling further into him. Unbeknownst to him, her eyes were already closed. Harrison’s hand came up to caress the back of her head with his fingers, her hair tangling around them. The longer he did that the calmer and deeper her breathing turned, her body relaxing against his but her arms remained strongly wrapped around his back. He wasn’t sure how much time passed but it must’ve been a while because his arms were getting numb from supporting her weight. As slowly as he could, he straightened up from the weird position she had pulled him in and secured one of his arms under the girl’s thighs while the other held her back. He struggle to get off the deep dip in the sofa, grunting quietly to not disturb the sleeping girl and carried her to her bedroom, carefully tucking her under the duvet. 
He searched for the jacket he wore the night before and threw it over the flannel he had on already, getting ready to leave checking for his phone and wallet in the pockets of his jeans and making sure he locked the door behind him when he left. There were a bunch of mixed feelings battling inside the boy’s mind all that had happened was a little too much to process, first the situation with her mum, then Will and everything that had happened between her and the guy that he ignore for the longest time that had pushed her attitude change a while back. But the words she told him at the end were the ones that had gotten stuck with him, echoing and circling around his exhausted mind. He had no doubt she was being sincere, but what it meant for him, most likely didn’t mean the same for her. She truly said it in a friendship sort of way while he tried his best to think of it that way too but the boy couldn’t help the heart rush and the hope that settled in his chest.
Tom noticed his mood right away, he hadn't even make it properly inside the house when he was all over Harrison asking all sorts of questions, and at some level the blonde was grateful he had someone to talk about his feelings. "I'm her date for her friend's wedding as well." He finished, his hair all messy and knotted from running his fingers through it one too many times during his chat with his best mate.
"That's the least terrible thing that you've told me tonight." Tom pointed out causing Harrison to chuckle tiredly and shake his head. "For real, man. You've gotta talk things straight with her or stop this shit. It ain't good for you."
"But what if she doesn't feel the same and I fuck our friendship up?" The blue-eyed boy voiced his concern, picking anxiously at his cuticles as he stared into warm, wide eyes.
"The words she said to you tonight aren't just friendship words, Harrison. Believe me, she feels something, she's just... Scared, I'm guessing." Tom shrugged his shoulders. Harrison only stared at the wall behind Tom, thinking everything through ending up in the same place as before. What if he risked it and told her how he felt and she didn't react favourably? What if she disappeared from his life? What if he never got to be her friend ever again? There was too much at risk for him and he wasn't sure he was ready to face that loss.
thanks for reading ♡ don't forget to reblog and tell me what you thought of this chapter ♡
: jaded taglist : @lizzyosterfield • @strawberryaftns • @buckystolemyheart • @staringmoony • @stxfxniexreads • @spiderbibby • @shezzalocked • @underoosjae • @ghostspf • @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh • @inneedoftomholland • @crazyfreaker • @tiffy119 • @alwaysbenhardysgirl • @harringtonmyhusband • @fanficparker • @shanetoo • @darlingosterfield • : permanent taglist : @madzleigh01 • @marvelsangels • @angoilo-is-tired • @justasmisunderstoodasloki • @sexytholland • @miraclesoflove • @snowflakeparker • @definitely-not-black-cat • @where-art-thau-romeo • @allthesesvoicesinmyhead • @peterparkoure • @nokiaholland • @parker-holland-osterfield • @gioandreolli •
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beetlegoose01 · 4 years ago
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stolen whispers: chapter 1
AN: this fic isn’t a request, it’s a story i’ve been preparing for a lil while and I’m so excited to share this with you all <3
I’ll link it on my Archive if you prefer to read it there. Also warning, there’s quite a few OCs.
Time: 2028 (Scorbus have been married for two years)
Summary: When a new generation of Death Eaters kidnap Scorpius, Albus and Rose put aside their differences to rescue him.
TW: Kidnapping/Language/minor violence
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Two witches wearing shadowy black robes entered the tavern, finding a table near the back. They ordered their mead, waiting for their third partner impatiently. It was a crowded area, so thankfully there was a small chance they would be overheard.
"We don't want more mead." The first woman growled, tapping her long nails at the table. The bartender, a tall man with a mustache put the drinks down.
"I didn't think so." He lips curled into a grin as he morphed into a younger man with wild dusty brown hair, wearing matching robes. He was handsome, but had an eerie presence to him. Any reasonable person would have at least flinched at the transformation, though neither witch did. "Hello ladies." He grinned cheekily.
"Soren, enough playing games." The second woman said, though she was smirking.
Soren barked out a laugh. "It was funny, Mara. And you know it."
The first woman, Lilith narrowed her eyes. She pulled down her hood, revealing cascading inky black hair down her shoulders. A scar that showed no sign of mending was down her cheek. "Your skills are impressive, but useless if you don't use them for our own gain. Don't forget that." She pulled her hood back.
"Understood." He murmured, taking a seat.
"We have much to discuss," She continued, flicking her wand idly. "Our current plan in action. Our...act of revenge. It's been thirty years since The Tenebris was wrongfully killed. I am sick and tired of his name being tossed around in history like he was some monster. He was on the right side."
"Are you certain we want to call the Dark Lord that?" Mara asked suspiciously.
"Shh! You know if anyone hears us, they'll lock us up for good. For speaking our minds." Lilith said. "It's safer we call him by his code name."
Her companions nodded.
"Because of his loss, we have mudbloods in positions of power. Our siblings that fought for his cause are locked up. Or worse, dead."
Mara and Soren looked grim.
"If we had more allies, perhaps we would have had a chance." Soren noted. "We weren't even alive then but...I have a feeling if we were..."
"Just because we weren't alive then, doesn't mean we don't have opinions over the lives stolen!" Mara argued. "That damn Harry Potter."
"Correct. And Soren is right too. For once. If we had more allies, or better yet...certain allies didn't betray us. The Malfoys for instance." She took a sip of her drink.
"Are you suggesting something?" Mara asked.
"Of course I am, don't be so daft." Lilian said, deadly calm. "I want to make that family suffer for what they did. My uncle Vincent Crabbe died for their selfishness. Draco Malfoy had a chance to save him, and he refused like the coward he is. His mother Narcissa lied to Tenebris' face. They are backstabbing filth that besmirched the Sacred 28. No, it isn't just about their betrayal or avenging those we lost in the war. Think of the big picture. They have the capabilities to join our side. To...respawn a new generation of Death Eaters. But that's not all...
"The Malfoys have lots of gold." She drawled. "Surely, they'll spare a few for us in exchange for something important. Or rather...someone."
"Someone?" Soren paused. "What are you suggesting?"
"Regretfully, Astoria Malfoy has passed on." Mara didn't sound the least bit sympathetic, instead stated it blandly. "So using her as a ransom for Draco is a no go."
"Ah, but there is still someone left." Lillian said, removing a small photograph from her cloak, she slid it across the table.
A young man with platinum hair was pictured, beaming brightly in Healer Robes.
"Scorpius Malfoy."
Soren and Mara exchanged a look of satisfaction.
"Bring him to me."
~~~~~~~~~~
The best thing about mornings, at least to Albus, was waking up beside his husband. The sun's bright rays peaked through the window of their cream colored bedroom, slowly stirring them both awake. If it was up to him, he would stay in their warm bed, arms wrapped around Scorpius until noon.
Scorpius rolled over, so that they were facing each other. His eyes fluttered open, and Albus felt his heart melt at his sapphire eyes.
"Hi." He yawned. His voice was slightly croaky, no doubt from the morning.
Albus replied by nuzzling his nose, then kissed his cheek. "Hi honey."
Scorpius laughed lightly. "Let's get up then. Start the day? It's a Saturday. We have the whole weekend to spend together."
"I'd rather spend it here with you."
Bathilda mewed from the kitchen.
"But our child is hungry." Scorpius teased, stretching as he slid out of bed. Albus begrudgingly slumped after him, not eager to wake up before ten am. But his own stomach was growling too.
"Speaking of children," Albus said, starting to work on their breakfast as Scorpius poured Bathilda's food. "Iris is pregnant again. James told me through a Howler yesterday."
"Really?" Scorpius' eyes widened. "That's great news!"
"Yeah, not for my ears." He commented dryly, still traumatized by James' excited screeching in his ear. "Baby number three." He whistled. "Do you think they're trying to make an entire quidditch team? With Teddy and Vic's lot included, they're on their way."
Though he was joking, Scorpius noticed that Albus was glowing, happy for his brother and sister in law. That was one of the many reasons he loved Albus. His love for his siblings.
"Perhaps. When are they due?"
"September. Which means...that's where they scurried off to last Christmas party." Albus quipped. "To have a little fun."
"Albus!" Scorpius scolded. "Honestly, only you would make a beautiful moment gross."
"It's life, Scorp!" He chuckled. "You're a Healer, you should know these things."
"We'll have to visit. Maybe bring a gift basket to congratulate them." He mused, smiling fondly. "I can't wait to meet our new niece or nephew." There was a wistful look in his eye that Albus caught.
"You've got that look on your face." He noted, amused. He served the plates of bacon sandwiches on the table.
"What do you mean?"
"That Scorpius 'I want something but I'm not going to spell it out for you' face."
"Oh."
"Yes, oh." Albus said, forest green eyes brightening in amusement. "What's up?" He took a seat, tucking into breakfast.
"Well," Scorpius started, staring at his food. "I was thinking..." He stopped himself, hesitant to continue his train of thoughts.
"Yeah?" Albus nudged him gently.
"I want a child." He said, his voice quiet, but firm. "I love my nieces and nephews so much, but they aren't...ours. I want to start a family with you, Albus. Raise a little one of our own to be bright and wonderful and brave and..."
Albus' expression softened. "I do too. You know I do, Scorpius. It's just...difficult right now." He stared at his wedding band. "You know it's harder for us than any hetero couple." He waved his hand vaguely. "Adoption is hard, surrogacy is expensive. Maybe once we settled into our careers more, we can talk about it."
"I think we're ready to go beyond just talking about it, Al."
"We're still young. We've still got time. But...I definitely want to work it out. Somehow, we will. We always do."
Scorpius beamed, reaching to kiss Albus' knuckle. "Thank you." He sat up abruptly. "Oh, I almost forgot- it's the farmer's market today."
Albus snorted. "You're exactly like your dad, you know?"
"Yes yes yes, but we should go!" Scorpius said, levitating the plates to the sink and it automatically was clean due to the floating sponges.
"We? I've got some work to do. I'm not very fond of small talk with old people selling fruit."
"Al, it's really good fruit." Scorpius said seriously. "And it's not all old people. I've seen some of our old schoolmates there."
Albus cringed. "That's even worse."
"Don't be so dramatic. Are you still coming?"
"Mm, but I should really finish this article. Go on without me."
"If you're sure...do you want me to bring anything back?"
Albus thought for a moment. "Those strawberries Ms. Beaker sells. Please? Strawberries and cream sounds so good right now."
"Brilliant, I'm on it." Scorpius did a mock salute.
"Have fun." Al waved as Scorpius appatered, leaving the kitchen empty. Albus went straight to work on his article.
~•~
The market was lively and merry, despite the early hour. Scorpius had stopped by the strawberry stand first, in case he forgot.
Ever since they had moved two years ago, Scorpius had found himself drawn to the quaint farmer's market. Not because of the delicious, fresh food, but to socialize. He made quite a few friends with the muggles who lived around there...mostly old ladies. The early days of their marriage, Albus would join him. Before life got in the way, and work had to be done.
Not that he wasn't busy himself. He only had two days off as a Healer, sometimes less. He didn't know how they would manage childcare, but like Al had said, it was best not to dwell on the future.
"Scorpius? Is that you?"
He turned around, following the voice from behind him. "Polly ...Chapman?" He uttered blandly, praying he wasn't mistaken. He didn't have the best memory- even with old schoolmates who bullied him.
"Yep." Polly said, laughing lightly. "It's me. Been a while."
"It has." Scorpius shifted his weight. "How are things?"
"Great!" She smiled, swishing her blonde ponytail, the same air of confidence from when she was a teenager. "Yann and I are engaged."
"Oh! That's wonderful." Scorpius said, pretending to sound pleased. "Congratulations!"
"Thank you. I proposed to them last month. It was just as I had dreamed."
"How is...Yann?" Scorpius did not actually care how Yann was.
"They're good! Brilliant actually, since they passed Auror training." Polly looked genuinely proud of them, which he had to admit was adorable. "Are you and Albus still..."
"Yes, yes. We um, er- we've been married almost two years actually." He added.
"Aw, that's very sweet. You two were always very close, yeah?" Polly looked at him, and Scorpius nearly walked backwards, intimidated by her stance. She still was extremely scary, like a lioness but with a great sense of fashion. "I know...Yann, Karl and I weren't the best to you two but perhaps we could..." She trailed off. "I'd like you both to come. To the wedding. If you'd like."
That...wasn't what he was expecting. He half expected her to invite him to another Blood Ball.
"Pardon?" Scorpius asked, dumbfounded. "I mean- yeah, that sounds great! Fun! Yes. That sounds nice. I'll bring it up to Al."
Polly was glowing. "Brill! I've got to go, but we should all hang out sometime. Like old times."
Like old times? Scorpius thought. When did they ever hang out?
Nodding mutely, he walked away from Polly with a puzzled, but cheerful expression. He hadn't completely fucked up the conversation, which was always a plus. It still felt odd that Polly Chapman of all people was talking to him, let alone inviting him to her wedding. It was bizarre.
He passed the final vendor, and was surprised and amused to see a tiny girl, no more than seven standing behind it. She had a Brownie uniform on, bright rosy cheeks and pigtails included.
"Would you like a biscuit?" She squealed.
It had taken him a moment to respond, he was still thinking of Polly being kind to him "Oh erm- of course." It was impossible to say no to an adorable small child. He reached for some muggle money, handing her the pound notes. "Just the one box please."
"Okie dokie!" She said, handing him the box. She waited a moment, pouting. "Go on, try it." She urged.
"I really shouldn't I-"
"Please?" The little girl gave him the most pitiful expression. "It's for a good cause, mister. We're helping orphaned puppies find homes."
"Well, alright. For the puppies." He fumbled open the box, taking a polite bite out of the cookie. It was a classic lemon cookie with powdered sugar, one of his favorites. But the second he swallowed, he felt dizzy all of a sudden. "What..." He stumbled back. "Oh my," He gulped, the entire market swirling around him. Something wasn’t right. "is there something in..." 
He would be damned if he let this happen without some sort of fight. Throwing his basket aside, he collapsed, slipping into unconsciousness.
"We've got him."
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