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hyukakisses · 22 days ago

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We got beomie and hyuka as ghostface individually but what would happen when our sweet little reader ends up being ghostface with him????

I was binging the franchise and pondered on the idea since there’s typically more than one behind the mask OOooOoOoOoOo

I love spooky szn hahaha not as much as I love you!!!

- 🙂‍↕️

aww omg i love you too :D

-ghostface emo txt dating ghostface reader! (request!)

pairings: emo ghostface txt x ghostface reader

plot: random separate ghostface txt x ghostface reader headcanons

warnings: gore, smut, fluff, plot twist, txt infantilizing reader, cursing, death, heavily inspired by different ghostfaces’ from the scream franchise, bottom reader x top txt, takes place in university, established relationship between txt and reader, fan x celebrity dynamic between beomgyu and reader, (reader is jill roberts and beomgyu is charlie walker), crybaby reader

yeonjun as amber freeman ㅤׄㅤ 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•when a second ghostface was back in town you were more paranoid than usual, resulting in giving yeonjun your sliver heart locket necklace as a form of protection. “w-wait jjunnie” a small squeak falls from your pouty lips as you lay beneath your boyfriend on your pretty back. yeonjun pulls away from your mouth with a whine of protest. “what is it baby? am i going too fast?” you shake your head at that question, “i-i just don’t know what i’d do if anything happened to you” your shaky hands reach up to take off the sliver chain around your neck and you cursed at yourself for sparing yeonjun. what makes him so different from the friends in your life? you hated them and you hate your boyfriend too right?

•with a flushed face, your hands wrap around yeonjun’s neck clipping on the heart locker necklace you always wore. “i just wanna make sure you’re okay.. with ghostface running around again im really scared of losing you” you cringed at yourself, hating how you just said how you felt out loud.

•yeonjun only smiles at your scared state, you really think he needs protection from the masked killer running around town? if only you knew. “thanks baby” yeonjuns brown eyes pierce down at your pretty skirt, “you have condoms right?”

•yeonjun loved how stupid you’d get from his cock each time he’d fuck you, smiling menacingly as the emo boy imagined how cute you’d look struggling to breathe with his hands wrapped around your airway- “jjunnie?” you call out weakly, yeonjun’s eyes open. “i wanna cum jjunnie” you’d whine at his fingers pinching and pull at your swollen bud. the cold metal from yeonjun’s rings making you shiver

•yeonjun always threw the best parties in campus, which annoyed you since you hated parties but whatever tonight can be the night you finally kill your boyfriend right? “why are you watching this?” you stand behind the couch yeonjun laid on watching the texas chainsaw massacre. “it helps calms me down” the black haired male finishes his drink, “hey baby can you please get me some more beer?” you sighed and nodded going into the basement. closing the fridge you jump at yeonjun standing in front of you with a grin, “that was a test and you failed!” “what? you said to get more beer!” “yeah and you should have asked me to come to the basement with you!” you scoffed contemplating if you should just kill yeonjun right here right now “look baby you can’t just go around in scary places alone with a masked killer around it just makes you look suspicious” “what? what do you mean i look suspicious?” yeonjun steps closer “it makes me think maybe you’re the killer running around woodsboro” you froze your eyes wide and yeonjun laughs at your petrified state “im kidding baby i know you’re not the killer” you narrowed your eyes confused now. “and how do you know that i’m not the killer?” yeonjun chuckles again walking so close to you that you felt his breath on your lips “because im the killer” you squeak falling to the ground below your feet “im kidding baby! jeez!” his strong arms lift you up to your feet again “no but seriously i know you’re not the killer because look at you, you’re such a crybaby i think even killing as something as little as a bug will have you confessing in shame. now come on let’s go i wanna play beer bong”

•you blinked confused at why you were being dragged in a closet, “jjunnie? what are you doing?” “baby just be quiet yeah? it’s hard to explain just- just don’t come out until you i come get you alright?” your eyes widen at yeonjun bonding your wrists together with a rope “i promise baby i’ll explain everything later just be a good girl and be quiet for me yeah?” and that’s when you knew yeonjun was the other ghostface running around town. “can you say ‘yes jjunnie i understand’ for me baby? i just wanna make sure you’re not going to leave” you were paralyzed with fear “y-yes jjunnie i understand”

•you felt like you were about to have a heart attack watching yeonjun clean his bloody arms with a rag, grabbing a huge stash of cash and stuffing it in a duffel bag. the sound of police cars coming from outside. you couldn’t lie you felt extremely turned on by watching your boyfriend slaughter people with his bare hands and a single knife but still you couldn’t believe yeonjun was the second masked killer all along. “you scream and ill silt your throat” yeonjun grabs you out of the closet whispering in your ear “or better yet i’ll tell the cops outside that you did this which wouldn’t be a lie considering you are the other killer” “how did you know?” your blood runs cold staring at the knife yeonjun had poking by your airway “oh come on baby you’re so fucking obvious you really think i’m that dumb? i mean you’re good with your killings i’ll give you that but you’re sloppy leaving pieces of the pretty ribbons you wear behind? you’re so lucky i was there to clean up your messes now be quiet and come with me” you felt an arm tug you by the back door as police officers burst through the front door.

soobin as ethan landry 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•am i gonna die a virgin? was all soobin could think about as he tries to listen to his classmates talk about a masked killer going around campus slaughtering everybody. i mean soobin was one of the killers but who could the other killer be? he was nervously picking at his nails because of this. his mind immediately going to how badly you’re gonna flip at this

•soft whines and whimpers echo the walls on your bedroom when soobin’s tongue swirls around your right nipple while his large hand kneaded your left tit “binnie?” you call out making soobin whimper at you tugging his face up to meet yours “yeah?” his eyes bore into yours “i think i’m ready now” you were referring to losing your virginity. soobin’s face squints into a smile, “yeah?” he moves the hand from your tit and drags it underneath your short skirt. “you want me to pop your pretty little cherry? really baby?” you nod making your boyfriend excitedly kiss your lips

•soobin moans deeply his hands gripping onto your hips with an iron grip, fucking your smaller body onto his cock scared you’ll squirm away. “s-soobinnie!” you wail hugging onto your boyfriend tighter when you felt soobins cock reach your sensitive spot. his globes smacking against your ass making you whine at the burning sensation. “w-wanna cum! wanna cum” you babbled with tears welling at your pretty eyes. this action going straight for soobin’s dick making his hips stutter as he pulls you flush to his body. “yeah?” he drags you closer to his weeping cock, his hand rubbing tight circles on your puffy clit making you weep pathetically, your cunt twitching uncontrollably when you cum all over soobin’s cock triggering his long awaited release. the emo boy sighing dreamily when he shoots in load in your pussy, —this is way better than getting off to hentai

•you constantly tease soobin after that night, giggling about how you both weren’t going to die as a virgins and how you told your friends and they high fived you. which normally could have set soobin off but he let that slide. soobin pretty much let anything slide, even your cute habit of calling him ‘bunny!’ each time you see him in public. soobin just thought you were too cute to kill anybody. so that definitely rules you out on his ghostface suspicions…

•“binnie?” you break the makeout session you were currently in with the secret masked killer. “you won’t let ghostface hurt me right?” your faux eyes in fear bore into soobins as he huffs at the loss of contact from your lips. “i-i won’t, i-ll fucking kill him you hear me?” soobin chants yanking you into another kiss, a large hand presses against your throat, hard enough for you to feel but not hard enough to choke you. “promise?” you breathed smiling holding out your pinky. soobin chuckles wrapping his pinky around, yours kissing your hand before kissing you again. “i won’t i swear i won’t- i promise” you felt yourself melt at the reassurance. “i love you bunny” you flush watching your boyfriend play with your hand. “your hand is so small” “look at how big my hand looks compared to yours” you thought soobin randomly comparing your hand sizes was cute

•when soobin asked you to get his pierce the veil cd you were more than willing to do so! reaching in his top drawer and when you felt something shiny you just assumed it was the said cd, before you let out a wince in pain at a stabbing sensation. “what the-“ your eyes widen at the familiar knife you mistaken for the cd. you couldn’t believe your boyfriend who reminded you of a bunny could be a crazed serial killer. without saying anything you tuck the knife away and start to look elsewhere for the requested item

•watching soobin slice open a boy’s throat from under your bed definitely wasn’t on your bingo card. you shook in fear and your hands cling on your mouth in attempt of silencing your whimpers, not so sure if you were whimpering in fear or arousal. you just couldn’t believe soobin went as far as killing some guy for you just out of his own jealously- maybe you can come clean about being ghostface too? you yelp when you felt your leg being pulled. okay fuck that! you were definitely too scared maybe you won’t tell him until you’re certain he won’t cut you up too

beomgyu as charlie walker ㅤׄㅤ 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•beomgyu was absolutely obsessed with horror films, the boy even ran a club for it. so he was definitely caught up with the ghostface lore, even as going far as making documentaries his victims that loved around woodsboro.

•you thought this was annoying, how beomgyu followed you around like a lost puppy with a stupid camera in your face because he thought you were pretty. or how beomgyu would invite himself over your house to watch a scary movie and forced you to download letterboxd for him

•beomgyu was pathetic, you never talked to him around campus yet he has this huge crush on you and he knows everything about you. from your favorite color to the fact that you’re not this moody girl you painted yourself to be, but instead you were a huge crybaby who talked to your stuffed teddy bears out of loneliness.

•beomgyu began watching you through binoculars each time you left your window open. his cock weeping with pre cum in his pants as he snaps photos of you pleasuring yourself with your adorable little plushies. praying to god you’d stop being a bitch and let him fuck you

•beomgyu’s heart filled up with joy when you randomly asked him out. you claimed you’ve always had a thing for him and his nerdy interests but really you just wanted help in your ghostface scheme. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t say no.

•your heart pounds in your ears as you stare at the bloody portrait beomgyu placed behind your teddy bear. it was a boy you had math with, gutted all over a mattress and you really feared beomgyu at this moment, afraid of what he might do to you if he found out you were just using him

•“you’re not fucking serious? you’re backing out because you’re scared you’ll get caught?” beomgyu chuckles blowing another thrust at your sloppy cunt making you whimper loudly. “we’re not done with this ghostface shit until i say so you hear me? now stop fucking moving and make yourself useful and take my cum yeah?” beomgyu breathes yanking you up and down his member, using you as a fleshlight. “if you threaten me like that again i’ll fucking you kill you and behead your plushies” beomgyu laughs at your teary eyes. proceeding to kiss you deeply shoving his tongue down your pretty throat <3

taehyun as billy loomis 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•taehyun knew you were behind recent killings the second you expressed your jealously. “i’ll.. i’ll kill her if you don’t stop being her friend!” you told taehyun about how you hated his girl best friend. well you actually hated all of his friends but that’s not the point. taehyun was able to calm you down after swearing he’ll stop the friendship, but when he heard about the death of his beloved friend he knew it was you.

•taehyun asked you carefully, afraid he’d upset you if you had anything to do with the murder. “so what if i did? why are you asking? did you wanna fuck her or something!” you sob at the accusation. taehyun panicked and immediately dropped the conversation comforting you was more important

•taehyun also found your ghostface mask and black robe when he was doing your laundry, already imagining how baggy the piece of clothing looked on you. a smile crept onto his face when he should have been scared

•taehyun thought how blunt you were about something as serious as killing was cute the way you can babble about gutting any girl he ever talks to and then show him your collection of ribbons like if nothing happened really did throw him off

•“what’s your favorite scary movie?” you heard ghostface whisper in your as he stuffed his long fingers inside your wet cunt. smiling as he notices the tears down your chubby cheeks. “black.. black swan!” you cry holding onto taehyun’s wrist, scared he’d kill you right there despite you being ghostface yourself. taehyun lifts the ghostface mask off his face needing to kiss you, this reveal making you jump. “h-hyunnie?” your cunt squeezes taehyun’s digits as he spreads your folds apart. “shhh just relax and be a good girl for me yeah? lay down so i can have my meal.” he smacks a hand down your pretty clit. lightly tossing you back in your baby pink sheets ):

•when taehyun started killing along with you, you grew lazy on your killing spree. “you can do it hyunnie i just wanna play animal crossing” “you’ll take over for me right?” you smile handing him your ghostface mask and robe “you’re way stronger than i am hyunnie!” taehyun would take this role very seriously

•taehyun let you do whatever you wanted until you started spiraling. “i had to hyunnie! she was going to take you away from me!” you sob hysterically, soaked in your victim’s blood. “baby she was just delivering mail” taehyun sighed scared you’ll blow your cover, along with his. “how about you just let hyunnie deal with the killing from now on yeah? you just sit there and look pretty” he coos at your quivering lips, pulling you into the bathroom he’ll just clean up your mess later.

huening kai as stu mutcher 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚:

•huening kai didn’t have a serious bone in his body, he was always giggling at something despite being very fucking weird and awkward. i mean who has a collection of butterfly knives? and who gifts that to someone else else? nobody knew how he pulled you.

•the only time you’ve ever seen kai so serious was when you both were listening to tommy february and tommy heavenly 6 on his hello kitty cd player, aruging over who was better. you being team heavenly and him being team february.

•hyuka being one of the masked killers just didn’t make any sense to you. despite everyone on campus saying he gave off that vibe, you refused to believe that rumor. you knew huening kai better than anybody, this is the same guy who sung you lullabies when you needed sleep but couldn’t sleep on your own. the same guy who kissed your plushies goodnight before kissing you. the same guy who screams like a princess when he gets splashed by water. the same boy who watched magical shoujo girl anime with you and knew the soundtrack of each anime by heart. so seriously? why does everyone think he could be ghostface? because he owns black nail polish and wore black clothing? how stupid.

• your hands brace themselves on a teddy bear kai gave you for good measure as his pierced tongue swirls against your cute clit, the taste of the strawberry you were eating earlier lingering on your pretty pussy. you let out a quiet sob as you felt the cold piece of metal tug at your puffy bud, “n-ningie i-i can’t take it! wanna cum! need to cum!” your cries quickly turn to sobs as your heart thumps. you felt like you were going to burst if you didn’t cum any time soon. hyuka smiles against your heat, loving the stinging sensation of your gentle pulling at his long black hair. “yeah?” he pulls away from your cunt and replaces his mouth with his fingers, jabbing his pointer and middle finger at your sweet spot hovering over your smaller body. watching how you squirm at his touch. “is that it baby? is that your little princess spot? or should i aim higher?” kai teases his hair falling over his eyes. when you’re about to respond, the emo boy pulls away making your eyes wide in disbelief. “ningie!” you let out a wail “i wanna cum! please let me cum!” more tears fall down your face as you helplessly tug on kai’s shirt. eventually coaxing him to let you but on one condition. “okay baby i’ll let you cum but you’re cumming all over my cock understood?”

•when you hid underneath your friends bed sheets, you couldn’t help but flinch violently when you felt blood splash all over the blanket around you. you squeeze your eyes shut as an attempt to play dead thinking the killer currently slicing up your bestfriend would spare you. you felt bad but you did tell her to not go downstairs. when loud footsteps near the bed you were laying you shivered. covering your mouth to quiet your breathing. yelping when you felt a yank from the covers, you were about to get stabbed until ghostface studies your face. kai immediately covers you up again taking his leave, this confused you.. why did you get spared?

•when the coast was clear you shakily try to make a run back home, freezing in your tracks when you notice a cardcaptor sakura sealing wand charm on the ground. this immediately makes you realize that you were spared because huening kai was the man underneath the mask. you were scared at what he’ll do if he knew that you knew

•“where are you going?” you gave kai a pout, reaching up to bring the boy closer to your body. “i just have to go finish my homework” hyuka lies but you knew that wasn’t true “i know you’re ghostface” you blurt out like word vomit. “and? what are you going to do about it? throw on your ghostface mask and kill me too?” kai laughs unserious, you quickly shake your head no. “good girl now be quiet i’ll be back later”

a/n: wait happy halloween what the fuck there’s only a week left until halloween..

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elysiaheaven · 1 month ago

Text

"Pure Insatiablity"-[𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓-𝟏] 𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐆.𝐍 (Yandere) 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 (𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐓)

Words:6078

Genre: Yandere

Summary: It’s been almost eight months now, hasn’t it? Eight months of being wrapped in this obsession, this love that’s taken root so deep inside you. Eight months of loving him—so much it hurts, so much it feels like you're suffocating under the weight of it.

And when you stare at the screen, when you think about that character—the one your fans can’t get enough of—what you really see is him. Your love. Your darling. The one you’d do anything for.

( Reader is a g.n!)

TW: Obsessive behaviour, Lovesick, Blood, Violence, Crazy! Your daily dose of cringe! (He's crazy ><), (Reader is obsessive in love with him) Mentions of disturbing poetic lines?

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named Killer chat! Please play it! It's so good! I think I need to do more research on him, If what I wrote doesn't really scream him! I'm sorry! I'm still learning abt him! I KNOW IT'S BAD I'M SORRYY!!

I think you’re getting a little too in love...

C'mon! Tell me what you want. Do you hate me? Do you love me? Are you going to kill me? I've got a knife right here. Or are you kissing me, darling? How much do you feel?

Oh, you're so pretty when you're rotten and mine. I think you're divine.

Oh, Writer… How’s your relationship with the infamous butcher?

"Bad," you whisper under your breath, eyes glued to the blank page in front of you. The clock ticks, the hours pass, and nothing. Not a single word for days. And it stings, doesn’t it? Because your book—it’s your baby, your obsession—your masterpiece. It was an instant hit, loved, adored, and devoured by everyone who touched it. Fans left comments, raving about how perfect it was. Especially… him.

The e-emo killer. Your devil, wrapped in leather and shadows, blood-stained hands that still look so gentle. They called him cruel, twisted—yet oh, how they love him. Adored him. Fawned over him. The simps flooded your inbox, begging for more of him. That beautiful, wicked boy who haunted their dreams.

And let’s be honest—you love him too, don’t you?

After all, isn’t he just a reflection of someone else? Someone you know all too well?

Didn’t you mold the character from your darling’s essence? That man you can’t stop thinking about, the one who holds your heart in one hand and your throat in the other? The one you’d bleed for, die for—kill for?

Ah… you’re getting a little lovesick, aren’t you?

It’s been almost eight months now, hasn’t it? Eight months of being wrapped in this obsession, this love that’s taken root so deep inside you. Eight months of loving him—so much it hurts, so much it feels like you're suffocating under the weight of it.

And when you stare at the screen, when you think about that character—the one your fans can’t get enough of—what you really see is him. Your love. Your darling. The one you’d do anything for.

Isn’t that the truth? Isn’t that why your heart races, your fingers tremble when you write about the killer’s knife, the way it gleams in the dark? Because you imagine him—your love—doing the same to you, don’t you?

After all, isn't that why you can’t look away, can’t stop thinking, can’t breathe without feeling like you need him more than air?

Ah, calm yourself, love.

Eight months in, and look at you…

You want him. God, you want him so much it hurts. It’s like a sickness, spreading through your veins, consuming every inch of your soul. It’s the kind of need that claws at your heart, gnaws at your bones, turns your very breath into poison if he’s not near.

How did it get this bad? How did it go from quiet glances to full-blown obsession?

It started small, didn’t it? Little things—his voice in your ear, the calls, the games, the way his fingers brushed against your skin. The way he’d laugh, low and dark, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He’s always known, hasn’t he? How to bend you, break you, make you his.

But it’s more than that now. It’s an ache, deep in your chest, that never goes away. You crave him. You crave the way he looks at you like he sees every part of you—every ugly, twisted piece of your soul—and he loves it. You crave the way he owns you, how his presence alone makes you tremble, how just the thought of him drives you mad.

You can’t stop thinking about him. He’s there in every corner of your mind, lingering, waiting, watching. And you want him to watch. You want him to see every broken, desperate part of you. You want to lay yourself bare before him, beg for his touch, for his gaze, for his breath on your skin.

It’s pathetic, isn’t it? But oh, you’d fall to your knees for him. You’d give him everything. You already have.

You think about him late at night, when the world is quiet, and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart pounding, heavy and relentless. You imagine him with you, his hands on your neck, his lips hovering just inches from yours. You’d let him take you apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but his name carved into your bones, his scent burned into your skin.

You want him like fire. Like a storm. You want him with the kind of madness that doesn’t make sense, that drowns you, suffocates you in its wake. Every breath you take without him feels empty, incomplete.

He’s in your blood now, a part of you, and nothing will ever be enough. No touch, no kiss, no word will ever fill that void.

And the worst part? You love it. You love this sickness, this hunger, this desperate, gnawing ache. Because it’s him. Because it’s all for him.

He could ruin you, break you, destroy everything you are, and you’d thank him for it.

Isn’t that what you want? To be his? To be consumed by him, devoured until there’s nothing left of you but the pieces he chooses to keep?

It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? This love, this madness, this obsession. You, the writer, trying to put words to something that can’t be explained. Trying to capture this wild, violent need that swells inside you every time you think of him.

But how can you? How do you describe something so raw, so feral? How do you put into words the way your heart skips a beat every time you hear his name? The way your entire world tilts on its axis when he’s near?

You want him. Need him. More than you’ve ever needed anything in your life.

And you wonder… Does he know? Does he know how deep this goes? Does he understand that you’d do anything—everything—for him?

You think he does. You think he knows exactly how far you’ve fallen. And that’s what makes it so beautiful.

Because you’re not afraid of falling.

You understood him so much! Yet, you still...wanted him..?

The thing about Ronin is that his love is a poison wrapped in sugar, sweet to taste but deadly beneath the surface. He treats the same, as if they’re fragile toys in his hands, waiting to be bent, broken, and reshaped into something more. They’re not people to him—they’re puzzles to solve, games to play, and he plays them masterfully. Not out of cruelty, though. No, Ronin’s twisted mind justifies it as something deeper, something almost… noble.

He believes, with every fiber of his being, that he’s doing what’s best for them. That through the trials, the manipulation, the pain, they’ll emerge better—stronger. In his distorted way of thinking, he’s saving them, guiding them through the fire so they can burn away their weaknesses and be reborn into something new, something better. It’s not just a game to him—it’s a transformation. A test of endurance, of strength, of who they really are underneath it all.

This is how he shows his love. Not with tenderness, but with torment. He pulls at the strings of their souls, slowly unraveling them, watching them fall apart, believing—hoping—that by the time he’s done, they’ll thank him for it. That they’ll see what he sees: a person made whole again, remade into something that can survive in his world.

he’s doing the same with you, thinking that they’ll understand in the end, that this suffering is love in its purest form. To Ronin, it's not just affection—it's salvation.

It’s not enough for him to possess them; he has to break them. Only then can he feel secure in his love, believing they’re exactly who they’re supposed to be. That’s the only way he knows how to love. By tearing them down, by forcing them through the darkness… he thinks he’s giving them a gift.

A gift wrapped in shadows.

It’s been six days.

Six agonizing days without him. No messages, no calls, not even a single “Hey.” He’s not replying. He’s not talking. He’s … online tho. Why? Why is he doing this to you? You want to see him, you need to hear his voice again, but there’s nothing. The silence is eating at you, clawing at your insides, making your mind spiral.

Control it. Control yourself, you keep telling yourself. They don’t need to see it. They don’t need to know how much this is wrecking you. But it’s getting harder to hide. Everyone’s worried. Even they’ve started to notice how quiet you’ve become. How different you are without him.

Except for Ronin. He doesn’t care. He never does. In fact, with that stupid ego of his, he’s been trying to make you jealous these past few days. And you can feel it—every little jab, every smug comment—it’s uncanny how well he knows how to hit your nerves. But no matter how much Ronin gets under your skin, it’s not him you care about.

It’s him.

And it’s not just Ronin. V and Angel have been suggesting things, too. Methods to… fix things. One of them even had the audacity to suggest separating from him. A clean break. “Maybe it’s for the best,” they said, as if they understood. As if they could possibly know how much you need him.

But you hate the idea. You despise it. The thought of being separated from him—it’s like a knife twisting in your gut. You thought he wouldn’t want that either. He wouldn’t, right?

But to your shock—right there, in the middle of the voice chat, without any hesitation, he said it.

“Yeah, I can stay away for six weeks. That’s fine.”

Six weeks. You could barely process it. Your heart stopped. The number felt like it was mocking you, taunting you. Of all numbers, six? It was so… him. The devil’s number, the one he always played with. You almost smiled, almost thought it was cute—almost. But there was nothing cute about this. No, this was pure torture.

How could he say that so casually? Like it didn’t even matter. Like he wasn’t tearing you apart inside.

Because you need him. You really need him. And you thought—no, you were certain—he needed you too.

But here he is, agreeing to stay away. Six long, suffocating weeks without him. How are you supposed to survive that? How are you supposed to breathe, to think, to function without him? He’s your everything, your entire world, and now he’s just… gone?

You hate it. You hate every second of it. Every second without him feels like a lifetime, a slow, agonizing descent into madness. And you can’t help but wonder—what if he doesn’t miss you like you miss him? What if this is easier for him than it is for you?

But no—no. You know he feels the same way. You have to believe that. He’s just playing his part, the devilish role he always slips into so easily. After all, isn’t that what he is? Just a stupid guy who roleplays as the devil. That’s all, right?

But then why does it hurt so much? Why do you feel like you’re unraveling, coming apart at the seams without him?

And without him, you feel like you’re losing a part of yourself.

Six days. Six weeks. Six months. It doesn’t matter. Time feels meaningless when he’s not around, when you can’t feel him, can’t hear him, can’t touch him.

You miss him.

To help you cope, the entire server of serial killers—now your closest group of buddies—created a separate group chat. One without Ronin. It was for your own good, they said. To keep you distracted, keep you sane, while you waited for him.

Angel didn’t want to include Luca or Feli, though. You knew why. They’d just gotten into a relationship, and seeing them happy together might upset you even more. The jealousy would gnaw at you, and Angel, despite her sharp edges, was too considerate to do that to you.

So now it’s just you, Angel, Misaki, and V—the four besties. Well, they’re worried, no doubt about that. You can feel it in every message, every forced joke. Everyone’s trying to keep things light, but the concern bleeds through.

Just like Vince said… it’s destructive and toxic, right? This obsession you have with Ronin. But then again, Feli said it best—it’s not just toxic. It’s all three. Passionate, chill, horrific—a twisted cocktail of emotions that you can’t escape from. It’s suffocating, it’s addictive, and you know it.

But it’s so you, isn’t it?

Angel—the elegant femme fatale.... Some even say she’s a cannibal just for fun, and she plays along. She’s the type that captivates hearts effortlessly, pulls you in with a glance. If you were with her, maybe you could’ve seen the light, stepped away from this madness. Maybe you’d be happier, calmer… safe.

But no. Your heart is too far gone. Your ideals have shifted, haven’t they? Now you’re lost in the darkness, enthralled by your own version of the seven deadly sins.

Misaki, the cute, chaotic mess. The drunken assassin for hire, always too hyper for her own good. She kills with a smile, pays her rent with blood money, and somehow makes it seem so… effortless. But beneath all that bubbly energy, you know she’s just trying to survive, like the rest of you.

Then there’s V. Rigid. Just. Moral, in his own twisted way. The boomerang uncle who believes in his heart that his justice comes through killing. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t flinch, and somehow, that moral code of his feels strangely comforting. Like if you were ever to lose yourself completely, he’d be there to rein you back in. Or at least try to.

They’re all on the call now—talking, laughing, trying to pull you into the conversation. But you’re not really there. Your heart isn’t. You nod, give half-hearted replies, but all you can think about is him.

You just want Ronin. Already.

Their voices blur together in the background, but your mind keeps drifting back to him. That silence. Six days. Six weeks. Whatever. It’s driving you insane. You need him, need his voice, his presence. No matter what distractions they throw at you, nothing fills that void he left behind.

You sigh deeply, staring at the screen. They don’t understand. They can’t.

Everyone is talking at once, their voices flooding the call, trying to drown out the quiet chaos in your mind. Misaki’s high-pitched laughter cuts through the noise first, followed by V’s calm, grounding voice, and then Angel’s teasing but kind remarks, all woven together in an attempt to cheer you up.

V, always trying to keep things steady, eventually turns the conversation towards your writing. “How’s that new book coming along?” he asks, the one he’d helped inspire, no less. “The story about that ‘good man who kills for justice.’ I thought you had a pretty solid start.”

You blink, snapping back to reality. The new book. Right. The one with the protagonist who’s supposed to be a "good man" who kills for justice, fighting against corruption with a moral code as rigid as V’s. You want to write it, you really do. But every time you sit down to start... your thoughts drift. To him.

But you can’t help it—your mind wanders back to Ronin. The story might be about someone else, a character of pure moral code, someone who kills for justice like V had imagined. But all you see, all you feel as you try to write, is him. Ronin, with his smirk, his chaotic energy, how he gets under your skin and stays there. He’s nothing like the character in your new book, and yet, he’s the only thing you can think about.

He’s your muse, your obsession—your devil incarnate. And you almost laugh at the thought. Isn’t that just who Ronin is? A creator of chaos, a devil in your head, inspiring you even when he doesn’t mean to. A part of you is frustrated—he doesn’t even fit this new story, but somehow, he’s taken over anyway.

But you sigh, leaning back in your chair. "I... I just don’t feel inspired right now." You don’t want to admit it, but everything you want to write seems to tie back to Ronin, no matter how hard you try to focus on something else. He’s in everything you do, like an ever-present shadow.

Angel’s voice cuts through. "Of course, you’re not inspired. You’re too clingy right now, and it’s all because of him. You’ve gotta let it go for a bit; otherwise, it’ll just boost Ronin’s ego, and you know he lives for that."

You can’t help but chuckle weakly at that. She’s right—Ronin would love knowing he’s got you wrapped around his little finger, knowing you’re craving his attention this much. But you don’t care. You want to be wrapped up in him, and the thought doesn’t bother you one bit. Still, you don’t say that out loud. You don’t want to admit to everyone how deep your feelings run for him.

Instead, you steer the conversation somewhere else, tossing around random comments and joking with them. Misaki pipes up, practically bouncing in her seat as she talks about her latest commission. “So, get this—I nailed the shot perfectly. One kill, clean. And with that, rent’s paid for this month!” She laughs, but you can hear the relief in her voice.

You can’t help but tease her. “Next month’s going to come around quicker than you think, though,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

She whines dramatically, clutching her head. “Noooo! Don’t remind me! I’ll need another commission soon or I’m doomed!” Her pout is cute, and you laugh despite yourself. Misaki’s a mess, but she’s your mess (friend!).

Angel snorts. “I feel that. Work’s been tight, but I’m okay for now. Barely.”

Then there’s V,. “I’ve been busy taking care of my birds lately. They’re a handful,” he says, the warmth in his voice clear. He pauses for a moment before adding, “Still... I respect you. Always have. You’ve got this pure heart. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Ronin mess that up for you. Him trying to make you feel like this—it pisses me off.”

You smile at that, appreciating his words. But deep down, you can’t help but think, Pure? Is that really what you are anymore? After everything with Ronin, after letting yourself fall so deep into this twisted, all-consuming love, are you still that pure-hearted person V thinks you are?

Because honestly... haven’t you already started slipping? Saving parts of yourself just for Ronin?

Angel’s voice breaks through the light banter, her usual teasing tone softened with concern. “I’m worried about you,” she says, her words pointed, cutting through the surface-level chat. “This thing with Ronin… it’s not good for you.”

You don’t respond, just sit there silently, staring at the screen, your mind lost somewhere far from the conversation. V, ever the protective one, comes to your defense as usual. “Come on, Angel. They wouldn’t hurt a fly,” he says with a sigh, glancing at you. “Right?”

You don’t say anything, and V’s expression darkens just slightly. The silence weighs heavier than your words could. “Look,” V adds, more serious now. “If you ever killed anyone for Ronin, if you ever did it for some guilty pleasure, it’d be your first and last. Because I would kill you myself.” His voice is firm but caring, like a friend! trying to protect you from something you might not even see coming.

You snap out of your daze for a moment, glancing at V. “I just won’t let you,” you reply quietly, a ghost of a smile playing on your lips. There’s a defiance in your voice, but it’s laced with that lovesick longing. You’d do anything for Ronin. And V knows it.

Misaki, sensing the tension, tries to shift the conversation. “So! Uh, anyway, I’ve been thinking about getting a new place, but the rent’s—”

You cut her off, your mind too focused, too fixated on one thing. “What’s Ronin doing?”

Angel sighs heavily, her frustration barely hidden now. “He’s fine.”

But it’s V who answers. “He’s fine without you,” he says bluntly, though there’s a softness in his tone like he’s trying to prepare you for a blow. You flinch inwardly, but you manage to keep your face blank, pretending it doesn’t cut as deep as it does.

You sit there, frozen, but V doesn’t stop. “He’s… happy. I think he’s gone off to kill someone again.” His voice is cold, almost detached, like he’s telling you a fact that doesn’t matter. “Maybe you’re the only one who’s serious and clingy in this relationship.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and you can feel your heart breaking, shattering into tiny, irreparable pieces. But you force a smile, the kind that barely reaches your eyes. “It’s fine,” you say, your voice trembling just a little. “It’s perfect. He’s perfect the way he is.”

But your eyes betray you. They’re wide, filled with that twisted, lovesick devotion, like you’re drowning in your feelings and don’t even care. In your head, all you can think about is sinking deeper into Ronin’s world, letting him consume you completely, until there’s nothing left of who you used to be. You want it. You want him. You want to lose yourself in him, no matter how much it destroys you.

You sit there after the call, the silence enveloping you, but your thoughts still swirling around Ronin like a storm you can't escape. You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you open your laptop, telling yourself you’ll work on your book, like they told you. But your fingers hover over the keys, your mind already somewhere else.

“I just feel… fuzzy about him,” you had told Angel earlier, trying to explain this maddening, obsessive feeling in the pit of your stomach. But she’d only laughed, though not unkindly.

“Even I wasn’t this bad,” she’d said, smirking like she was trying to make light of it. “Maybe your love is just too strong.” Her attempt to cheer you up had actually worked, even if just a little. You had smiled, a tiny flicker of warmth in your chest.

“Cheer up,” she’d added. “And get back to your story."

“Yeah,” you had murmured, not really listening, already thinking about Ronin. Already missing him.

Now, sitting alone with your laptop open, you try to follow her advice. You start typing, the title of your story staring back at you, but… it’s not the story you’re supposed to be writing, is it?

You start typing, but the words don’t match the character V had wanted—the noble killer with a rigid moral code. No, the character that comes alive under your fingers is someone else entirely.

He’s dark, dangerous, with a wicked grin that sends shivers down your spine. His eyes are sharp, burning with mischief, and his laugh… God, his laugh. It’s him. It’s Ronin. You can’t stop yourself from writing him into the story, from turning him into the devilish figure you can’t tear your eyes away from.

And you? You slip into the story, too. Not as a secondary character. Not as an observer. No. You’re his love interest. The one who falls into his arms, who sinks into his darkness willingly. You let him consume you, wrap you up in his world of danger and chaos because you crave it. You crave him.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing at first. The words just flow out of you, like a love letter disguised as a story. A love note for Ronin. Each sentence is a confession, each scene a reflection of how deeply he’s burrowed into your mind, into your heart. It’s raw, it’s messy, it’s everything you feel but can’t say out loud.

You type and type, not caring that you’ve completely derailed from the plot you were supposed to follow. The good man who kills for justice? He doesn’t exist in your world right now. There’s only Ronin. The devil. The one who owns every corner of your heart, no matter how much he tries to push you away.

Hours pass, and by the time you stop typing, you realize you’ve written pages—an entire chapter, maybe more. But it’s not the story you were meant to write. It’s yours. It’s your obsession, your madness, poured out into words.

You sit back and stare at the screen, feeling both exhilarated and exhausted. You know you should be working on your real book, but part of you can’t help but smile at what you’ve created. It’s a mess, but it’s yours.

Angel sighed, pushing her hair back as she leaned over her phone, eyes narrowing. "V, why didn’t you tell them about how Ronin’s been acting? He’s not even talking to me, and you're just… brushing it off?"

V, sitting , didn’t answer right away. Instead, he smiled—actually smiled—something he rarely did, the corner of his lips curling in amusement. "I wanted to see how they were," he said with a shrug, his voice calm. "And you know what? They’re fine. I’ve been keeping an eye."

Angel didn’t seem convinced. She crossed her arms, a frown pulling at her features. "I’m worried, V. I mean… did you see them? They seemed slightly crazy—like, lovesick, obsessed. I’m telling you, I'm worried about them, I don't know...Suddenly I don't want to become whatever the hell we are."

V’s smile faded slightly, but his expression remained soft. "They’re not that type, Angel. You know them. Yeah, they’re obsessed with Ronin, but they haven’t done anything reckless yet." His tone grew more serious, though. "Ronin hasn’t corrupted them… at least, not completely."

Angel chewed her lip, her fingers fidgeting over her phone before she made a decision. "I’m just gonna text him, just to make sure he’s there," she muttered, quickly typing out a message to Ronin.

Moments passed before her phone buzzed, and Ronin’s reply popped up: Devil’s here!

She sighed in mild relief, rolling her eyes at his theatrics. "Of course… that’s typical Ronin."

But before she could relax, V picked up , sending a message to Ronin with a more pointed tone. "I’m not as patient as Angel," he said as he typed. "If you don’t start talking, there’s going to be consequences." He hit send, leaning back, expecting some sarcastic response.

A few seconds later, his phone buzzed with the exact same reply: Devil’s here!

V blinked, his brow furrowing as he stared at the screen. Angel glanced over, her own phone vibrating with a second, identical message from Ronin. "Wait…" she muttered, frowning. "Isn’t that…?"

Misaki, who’d been quietly sipping a drink, glanced at her phone too and snickered. "Guys, that’s his automated reply prank! He’s done this before!"

For a brief moment, the group shared a collective groan and laughed it off, realizing they’d all fallen for one of Ronin’s infamous tricks. He had a habit of setting up automated responses, just to mess with them.

But then the laughter died down as the realization settled in.

Angel glanced at her phone again. "Wait… if it’s just an auto-reply…" Her voice trailed off as her stomach dropped.

Misaki, the first to speak, sounded nervous now. "Uh, so, where’s Ronin?"

V realized. "Well, I guess he's just as clingy as them. God, I'm gonna kill him."

Your thoughts too clouded by the constant, gnawing ache inside you. You can’t shake it, can’t stop thinking about him. Ronin. The only thing that occupies your mind as you walk out the door, moving through the streets like you're in a trance.

It doesn’t take long before you find yourself wandering Uptown, your steps naturally pulling you toward that one alley—the one they call Purgatory. It’s notorious, the kind of place everyone avoids, where even whispers of its name send shivers down spines. The Butcher’s territory. People have seen the aftermath here—limbs and pieces of flesh strewn like discarded trash, blood painting the graffiti-splattered walls. It’s grotesque, macabre.

But to you? It’s something else entirely.

You call it your love birth!

It’s twisted, isn’t it? You can’t help the smile creeping up on your face as you step into the dark, narrow space. This is where it all began. Where you had your first kiss with Ronin, right here in the heart of chaos. The same place where bodies had been ripped apart, left to rot. That’s where you became his fallen angel.

The memory washes over you like a wave—his hands on your face, his lips crushing against yours with that devilish intensity. You still remember the taste of copper in the air, the blood that stained his hands… and the way it didn’t matter. Not in the slightest. That was the moment you knew—there was no going back. You were his, no matter what.

Your heart races as you walk deeper into the alley, your eyes scanning the area with that lovesick expression. Every corner, every shadow, you search with a strange kind of yearning. Maybe he left something behind. Maybe some small trace of him remains, something he forgot—something you can cling to.

You know it’s irrational, but your mind can’t help it. You want him. You need him. Every thought, every breath, is consumed by him. You’ve become addicted to the way he makes you feel—alive, wild, free. And now, without him, you feel like you’re floating, untethered, falling further and further into the abyss.

You walk slowly, your fingers brushing against the walls as you pass by, half-hoping you’ll stumble across something—anything that could be a sign from him. A discarded cigarette, a drop of blood, some trace of his presence that would prove he’s been here.

But the alley is silent. Empty.

Still, you don’t stop. Your heart beats faster the further you go, your mind racing with the memory of him. His voice. His laugh. The way he pulls you into his world, his darkness, and makes it feel like home.

By the time you reach the far end of the alley, your eyes have glazed over, filled with that lovesick haze that you can’t shake. You’re lost in it, drowning in the feeling. You want to see him, to feel him again, to fall deeper into that sinful connection.

You pause, standing still for a moment, the weight of the emptiness settling in around you.

He’s not here.

But God, you wish he was.

You freeze when you hear it—a faint, metallic scraping sound echoing through the alley. The unmistakable drag of a crowbar. Your heart skips a beat, and a rush of adrenaline floods your veins.

It’s him.

Ronin.

The sound makes your pulse quicken, your body tensing in anticipation as you spin around, trying to catch a glimpse of him. You begin to move, searching the shadows, desperately scanning every dark corner of the alley for any sign of him. Your heart pounds as your breath catches in your throat. He’s here. He has to be.

But then, the sound stops. Dead silence.

Before you can react, a sudden force slams into you, pushing you hard against the cold, graffiti-stained wall. Your breath is knocked out of you for a moment, and you barely register what’s happening before a strong arm wraps around your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground. You gasp, your heart racing, your body pinned between the rough brick and the figure in front of you.

And then… his lips crash into yours.

Ronin.

You melt instantly into the kiss, your body responding before your mind can even catch up. The intensity of it, the hunger—it’s like he’s claiming you all over again, pulling you back into his orbit. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you up, his body pressing hard against yours.

When he finally pulls away, his breath hot against your skin, his voice is low, teasing. “Seems like you were pathetically sniffing around for clues, weren’t you? Like a lost little puppy darling?… so desperate to know if I was here.”

Your eyes flutter open, your head still spinning, trying to gather your thoughts, but they slip away in the haze of his presence. You can’t think straight, not when he’s this close, not when his scent fills your lungs, and his lips are still so dangerously close to yours.

You try to speak, to explain, to say something, but your voice catches in your throat. The words never come. He smirks, seeing your struggle, and presses a finger to your lips, silencing you before you can even attempt to respond.

“Shh,” he whispers, his tone dripping with amusement. “No need to talk, Darling. I know exactly what you want.”

Your body trembles, love-sick and overwhelmed. It’s like your whole world is centered around him, every fiber of your being drawn to him in a way you can’t control. You’re drowning in him, in this moment, and you can’t help but feel exactly what he’s accusing you of.

Desperate.

You don’t care about anything else. You just want him.

Your fingers clutch at his jacket, and your body leans closer, your lips parting as if to say his name, but no sound escapes. You don’t need to speak—he can already see the longing in your eyes, the way you’re losing yourself in him.

“Haha...” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear as his lips hover near your neck. “So love-sick…I did it all Didn't I?"

Ronin sighed, leaning his head back slightly, his eyes narrowing in amusement. "That fucking V," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as a low laugh escaped his throat.

You blinked, still trying to catch up with the intensity of the moment. "What… what did V lie about?" you asked, your voice soft and shaky, still lost in the feeling of him so close, his presence overwhelming.

Ronin’s laughter deepened, the sound dark and teasing as he looked back down at you, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "He told me you were completely normal," he said, the grin spreading across his face. "That you didn’t even miss me." His fingers grazed your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart skipped a beat, a wave of exhilaration surging through you. "He told you that?!" you gasped, eyes wide. "He said the same thing to me! That you were fine without me, that you didn’t care!"

Ronin’s smirk grew more sinister, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. "So much for his precious 'justice.' Lying straight to both our faces," he said, his tone laced with mockery. "Maybe V thinks it’s all for the 'greater good.'" He rolled his eyes, clearly unamused by the thought.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Maybe," you teased with a grin, "he thought he was saving us or something." But before you could continue, Ronin’s hand shot up, gently pressing over your mouth.

His voice dropped lower, the playfulness fading from his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Stop talking about another guy when you’re with me."

You froze, instantly obeying, your hand instinctively covering your mouth, the playful teasing evaporating as you felt his gaze burning into you. The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrilling, electric charge through your entire body.

He chuckled at your reaction, clearly satisfied by the way you instantly silenced yourself for him. His other hand gripped your waist, pinning you harder against the wall as his eyes trailed over you, dark and hungry. "Now," he said, his tone softening into a more sinister purr, "how much did you miss me?"

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. "A lot," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I missed you so much… I couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. It even messed with my writing… I just kept thinking about you, obsessing over you—"

His grip tightened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Obsessing, huh? Sounds like you’ve been going full yandere on me." He chuckled, his fingers brushing through your hair as he leaned in closer, his lips barely an inch from yours. "Say it," he commanded, his voice dropping into that dangerous, addictive tone. "Say that you love me."

Your heart pounded as you looked into his eyes, the intensity of his gaze swallowing you whole. "I love you," you whispered, breathless, the words slipping out like a confession. "I love you… I love you…"

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing as you kept repeating it like a broken record, your voice desperate, lovesick. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Ronin let out a low, mocking laugh. "Pathetic," he teased, his voice dripping with amusement. "To think that I like this." He watched you, entertained, as you kept whispering the words over and over, your voice trembling with devotion.

He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke. "Keep your attention on me… forever. Don’t even think about anyone else. It’s me you belong to. Got it? Darling?

Your heart felt like it might burst as you nodded, utterly consumed by the intensity of his words.

Ronin chuckled darkly, his lips finally crashing against yours once again, sealing you completely in his world. There was no escape. There never would be.

#killer chat #killer chat ronin #ronin x reader #ronin beaufort #killer chat x reader #dating sim #visual novel #ronin beaufort x reader #Angel #Misaki #V #killer chat vn

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 3 months ago

Note

Hello!! Love your writing. Not sure if you are doing requests, but ANYTHING Logan Howlett x Plus Size reader would be awesome 💗🤩

fem!plus size reader, wc: 582.

a/n: THIS IS SICKENINGLY SWEET OH MY GOODNESS. maybe this may seem out of character to some people, but in my opinion, I think logan is a big ol' softie.

cw! mentions of knarly injuries and stitches + mentions of a needle.

Okay yes, Logan might be brooding, and emo and mysterious but God forbid that you actually get hurt, because this man would lose his shit (in less than dignified words).

Let’s say metaphorically you go out on a mission and when you come back, you’re a little worse for wear. You already know by the time you make it to the clinical room Logan would have raised hell on his path there.

You have a few seconds of silence as you sit down on the medical table before you cringe at the sound of Logan’s voice booming down the hall. Jean gives you a look and all you can do is sigh exasperatedly.

You love him, you really do, but your head hurts and so does your side, which has been gracefully exposed to the open air, a less than preferable gash ripped through your skin. You’re trying really hard not to look at it - or even think about it - rather focusing on the Wolverine who’s now glaring at you.

“The hell happened?”

“Wow Logan, I can really feel the love.”

He gives you a look that makes the next bite of sarcasm die in the back of your throat. Instead, you replace it with another fruitless sigh.

“Big nasty metal thing,” You say with a wave of your hand, “‘Was just throwing shit at people and I got hit with a nice piece of shrapnel, but I’m good.”

“Good? You call being cut up like that good?”

“I really don't want to fight right now, Wolvie.” You pinch the space between your eyes. He softens ever so slightly at the intimate nickname and it doesn't take a mutation to know that the extra presence of your peers wasn't needed.

“Just let me stitch you up and I'll leave you guys to talk.” Jean says, already tweeding the thread through the needle. You wince, sparing a glance at the redhead before reaching Logan's eyes once more.

“This is going to fucking suck.” You grimace.

Taking the hint, Logan walks and hops onto the bed as gently as he can so as to not jostle you. He doesn't speak when he takes your hand in his, squeezing it ever so slightly in a show of alliance.

When Jean gets started you force yourself not to look, turning your head to bury it in Logan’s burly shoulder, breathing in his cigar scent stained flannel. It’s comforting to say the least, and it’s the only thing keeping you from passing out. The worst part was the numbing needle really.

“Alright, I’m done.” She says, slipping the medical gloves off and throwing them away.

When you make eye contact with her, she gives you a knowing look. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The room is silent for a moment before he speaks. “What were you thinking?” It’s a petulant grumble, and you smile fondly. “It wasn’t like I actively tried to get myself hurt, you know.”

He sighs, and pulls away from you so he can cradle your cheek.

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day, you know that?”

You laugh out loud, leaning forward to rest your forehead on his. “I guess you’re just going to have to keep up with me then, old man.” You tease. He smirks, “Old man? Really?”

“Mhm.” You nod with a grin. Logan places a sweet, long peck onto your lips.

“Maybe I’ll just handcuff you to the bed.”

You snort, “I’d like to see you try.”

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finelinefae · 8 months ago

Text

everything with you

synopsis: a simple, true kind of love

word count: 7.1k

contains: fluff, angst, cancer, brief mentions of sexual assault, allusions to domestic violence and a toxic relationship, normal people/one day vibes, boyfriend harry

a/n: posting this here because i love it so much and i was feeling emo. also have been away for a week so haven't had much time to finish writing things I'm still working on (there will be a soft girl sunday post tomorrow don't worry and i am also working on a tattoo h blurb as well !!)

. . .

October 1st 2017

Harry and Y/N met during freshers week at University in 2017.

"Should we make out?"

They were standing in a closet now after meeting just ten minutes ago downstairs.

"M' names Harry," Harry spoke, sitting on the couch and looking down at his first drink of the night. He wasn't much of a drinker but also feared missing out or being seen as unordinary - at university, drinking felt like it was deemed ordinary.

Y/N blushed, her cheeks pink from the humidity in the room and the fact that a guy was talking to her. She pulled down the sleeves of her dress to hide her shaky hands. She noticed she stuck out like a sore thumb with how she decided to dress, her long sleeves and knee-length skirt juxtaposed with every other girl in the room.

"'M Y/N." She responded. Harry nodded, sheepish and awkward as he tried to think about something to say.

They were sitting side by side, looking out at the other people dancing to the music that echoed through the house. "What do you study?" Y/N managed to ask and cringed at the question. Was it normal to talk about school at a house party?

"Music." He nodded as Y/N tried to think up another question despite already asking one. "What about you?"

"English." She said and an awkward silence fell between them.

Harry eventually turned to look at her, lips parting at the natural beauty even just from looking at her side profile. Her hair was in waves that fell down her back and he thought her dress was pretty too. She had a tiny bump on the bridge of her nose that led to her plump, cherry red lips.

She felt his gaze on him and turned her head, catching his eyes and looking down from embarrassment. He was beautiful like a living, breathing adonis. His eyes were a sea glass green and he had chestnut brown curls on his head.

"It's a little loud in here don't you think?" Harry spoke, his voice seemed closer to her now.

Y/N looked up and looked around at the crowd of people, "Just a little." She said,

"Do you want to go upstairs?" He wondered if maybe it would be easier to get to know her in a quieter setting.

Y/N followed him upstairs, wondering whether he knew where they were going and if he knew anyone else at the party. She had only just met him and despite his awkwardness, her trust issues were too much for her to just relax around him.

He opened the door and pulled her inside, "Um...Harry?"

He nodded, already guessing what she was about to say and looking down at her, "We're in a closet." He stated.

"Yeah." She whispered, her heart racing at the close proximity.

"I don't live here." He tried to hide his embarrassment.

Suddenly, Y/N burst out laughing, the entire situation was something she didn't see coming and she couldn't help but laugh at the predicament. It wasn't too long before Harry began to laugh along with her, the both of them standing in the closet in hysterics.

When their laughter quietened down, Harry looked down at Y/N. His demeanor changed as he admired her as she bit back a smile. "Should we make out?"

Her lips parted, "U-Um-I-I've never been kissed before."

"Me neither." He murmured, he wasn't even sure why he asked, he just felt like it was something he should be doing being at a freshers party.

Y/N thought about it for a second, she gulped down her nerves and looked at his lips before looking at him again. "O-okay." She nodded.

She'd never been kissed but neither had he, so neither of them could complain it was a bad kiss. She thought it'd be better to kiss him now to get the firsts out of the way.

"Okay." He released a shaky breath and slowly leaned forward.

Y/N stood on her toes the closer he got to her, their breaths echoed around the room as their hearts raced at the same time. The tension was thick as their lips were closer to touching. It seemed strange that the first person to touch her lips was a man she had met just ten minutes ago.

Harry reached for her hand, brushing his fingers against them and feeling how soft her skin was. Her eyes fluttered shut when he felt his fingers run up her arm, a path of goosebumps arising. Her nose rubbed against his and her eyes fluttered shut when his fingertips touched her waist.

She had the urge to press a kiss to his jawline as his fingers danced across the skin on her arm, "Harry," She whispered, her head resting on his shoulder.

Everything she was feeling right now was exactly how she thought she'd feel if someone kissed her and yet their lips hadn't even touched yet.

His lips brushed against hers and eventually, she leapt up into his arms and pressed her lips to his, arms wrapping around his neck. She whimpered at the sensation of his tongue tangled with hers, her entire body felt as though it was on fire as he continued to touch her. She tugged on his hair like her hands had a mind of their own and he released a guttural groan which made her tummy flutter with excitement.

If they were to continue, she was curious to see where things would go next but her curiosity was killed when the door opened and they pulled away from each other.

"My bad." Someone chuckled and closed the door again.

Harry was breathing erratically, looking down at the floor as his mind whirred.

"I should go." Y/N was the first to talk and before he could even reply, she opened the door and left.

February 20th 2018

Harry was late for class but he was in no rush to get there. In fact, he hoped the seminar would be over by the time he got there so he didn't have to answer any questions. He hated talking in front of people.

He decided to take a longer walk to his seminar, going in a direction he had never gone before and hoped he would get lost along the way.

As he pulled out his phone to change the song he was listening to, he ended up bumping into someone else. "I-I'm sorry," He immediately crouched down and picked up the books on the floor.

"I-It's fine, don't worry about it." A delicate hand touched his as they reached for the same book.

His head perked up when he registered who the person was, the voice was the last thing he heard before he went to sleep every night. "Y/N?" He spoke before he could stop himself.

She looked up at him, he noticed she looked different to when he had first met her. The light in her eyes looked dimmer and she seemed more on edge than when he had first met her.

"Harry?" She smiled, standing up.

"It's good to see you." Flashes of their first kiss came to mind and he quickly brushed them away.

"How's the first year treating you so far?" She tucked her hair behind her ear.

"It's been... good." He was lying but he wouldn't tell her that, not when he felt the need to impress her.

"Oh I'm glad, we should-"

"Y/N!" Y/N stilled, her head turning to look past Harry's shoulder. Her sudden change in expression made him turn to see the person who had caused it.

A man stood waving his hand in the air in the distance, he looked slightly older than both Harry and Y/N. "Who's that?" Harry looked at Y/N.

"T-That's Shaun." She muttered, holding her books tightly to her chest.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He hated how the question tasted when he asked it but wanted to know.

"Yes." She said, his heart was hurting but he tried his best not to show it. "I should get going."

She walked past him but he called her name before she managed to get away, "Here," He took out a pen and wrote on the front of the page of her notepad his number, "In case you need me."

She smiled but it didn't meet her eyes, "Thank you."

He watched her as she walked away and didn't start to walk again until she walked around the corner.

He couldn't help the gut feeling that was definitely going to need his number whether she wanted it or not.

May 15th 2018

Harry had finished his last music exam and stood in his dorm room, packing his room up since his mother would be picking him up tomorrow afternoon for the summer.

He knew other people were out partying and enjoying the fact that the first year was over but he was too keen to get home. University hadn't treated him nicely and that was just the way it was for him.

He hadn't made many friends besides a few in his music class, even then he wouldn't really consider them friends, mostly just people he spoke to now and then. He hadn't been to a party since the first week of freshers nor did he really want to.

"Fuck." He murmured to himself when he could hear the vibrations of his phone ringing. He rummaged through the piles of items he had created whilst packing and eventually found his phone under a pile of clothes.

The number was unknown but he picked it up anyway.

"Hello?" He frowned, waiting for a response from the unknown caller.

"H-Harry?" He stood straight and held his breath when the voice he hadn't heard in a while was talking to him on the phone. "I-It's Y/N."

I know. That was what he wanted to say but instead waited for her to carry on speaking. He wasn't sure as to why she was calling him now since he had given her his number three months ago. He spent the first few days waiting for a call from her but was always let down.

"U-Um, I know we haven't spoken in a while b-but I really need you to come g-get me." She was on the verge of tears as she held the phone to her ear, waiting for him to say something.

Harry cleared his throat, "Are you okay?" He asked, concern in his voice as he walked to the door.

He waited for a response, "No." She sobbed, "I'm at a party outside campus on Melville Street and I don't know anyone else."

He stumbled over his belongings as he pulled his shoes on and tugged on his jacket. "Hey, don't worry. I'm on my way and I promise I'll be there in five minutes."

"O-Okay," She whimpered, "Thank you...Harry."

He ended the call and raced down the steps to the front door, running out and making his way to Melville Street where he knew all the parties were held throughout the year. He could already see a mass of people at one particular house at the end of the road and could only assume it was the house Y/N had called him from.

He pushed his way past the other students, apologising as he did so but making no effort to stop himself from getting to Y/N. He ran up the stairs and opened the door to each room, ignoring the screeching from teenagers making out and wanting him to leave.

Eventually, he got to the end of the hallway and faced a closet door. He slowly put his ear to the door and heard the sniffles and cries of someone behind it. Carefully, he pulled the door open and looked down to see Y/N, crying into her knees as she curled up into herself.

He closed the door behind him and crouched down in front of her, "Hey," He whispered, not wanting to frighten her.

She looked up, cheeks tear stained and makeup smothered which she tried to wipe away with the back of her hand. "You're here." She whimpered and wasted no time in leaping forward and wrapping her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder.

This was the last thing he was expecting to happen tonight but he didn't stop from holding her tightly in an attempt to squeeze the pain out of her. Sometimes people just wanted a hug and he just so happened to be the only person who could give that to her right now.

"What happened Y/N?" He looked her in the eye and was brought back to the first time they were in a closet together. He wished he could go back to that time or at least be with her now under different circumstances.

"It's nothing." She wiped away her tears as best as she could.

"I don't think you would have called me of all people if it were nothing." He cupped the side of her cheek and noticed a bruise under her eye. His heart fell out of his chest when the worst-case scenario came to mind, "D-did Shaun do this to you?"

He didn't need an answer from her because the look on her face was clear enough to tell that he was right. Y/N began sobbing all over again, "How long Y/N?" Harry asked, firmly.

She didn't answer, "Y/N, how long?"

"Since February," She confessed in a whisper and hid herself away from him.

Harry felt an incredible urge to walk out to find Shaun and release every ounce of his rage onto him but he also knew that wouldn't do anything to help Y/N at this moment. So he took a deep breath and placed a gentle hand on Y/N's shoulder.

She looked up with wide, teary eyes and tried to crack a smile, "Let's get you out of here."

She laughed breathily, "What? You don't like being in a closet with me anymore?"

He couldn't seem to find it in himself to laugh with her, "Not when you're like this Y/N."

She loved the way his voice sounded, she had been thinking about it ever since she first kissed him in the closet. Maybe that's why Shaun treated her like he did because she was lying in bed with him and dreaming about someone else.

Harry walked out of the house with Y/N under his arm, shielding her away from the party. "Do you have anyone who can pick you up from your dorm?"

Y/N looked down at her shoes, embarrassment filling her, "I-I moved in with Shaun, he didn't want me living with the other girls and he's in his second year so..."

"Fuck." Harry said, eyes wide.

"Yeah," She laughed, pitifully. "Feel free to name me an idiot for the next few hours."

Harry sighs, "I'd never call you that Y/N. Sometimes we make mistakes when we're cast out into loneliness by others."

They carried on walking in silence. Y/N wasn't sure where they were going until they got to Harry's accommodation. "We'll have to sleep here for the night."

"A-Are you sure?" Y/N was nervous, wringing her hands together.

He didn't reply as he led her upstairs to his dorm where he knew everyone else was out getting drunk. She stepped into his room and was surprised to see the piles on the floor. It was amusing and sad to see. Each pile seemed to represent a different part of him, parts she knew nothing about, and yet he was the first person she thought about calling when she was in trouble. It felt like a cruel trick, she relied heavily upon strangers to lift her up because it was easier than being seen as weak by the people she deemed most important.

"I've been packing, m' mum's picking me up tomorrow. It's a bit of a mess." He begins picking up things from the floor, underwear and pages of sheet music.

"You play guitar?" She was still standing by the door.

"A bit, piano mostly." She notices the keyboard at his desk.

"You can take the bed, I don't mind sleeping on the floor." He stands, not sure how to act with a girl in the room, especially a girl he thought about before he went to sleep.

"Why can't we both sleep on the bed?" She wondered, kicking her shoes off.

"Y-Yeah," Harry gulped, "W-Whatever makes you comfortable."

Y/N and Harry sat side by side on the bed and were immediately brought back to their first interaction. Except this time they didn't have the noise of the party to fill the awkward silence.

"He didn't rape me, Harry." She whispers out of nowhere, she was crying again and he hated it.

"I never thought he did." He lied, he did think that.

"I-I'm not that desperate."

"I never said you were."

"Shaun was good to me and then... I've never been in a relationship before. I didn't know how it was supposed to go." She confessed.

"I know," He knew she needed to talk about it but he also knew she didn't particularly want to.

"Right." The sheets ruffled beside him and he looked over to see her lying on the bed with her back facing him. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried into his pillow.

Harry didn't know what to do. He wasn't good at comforting people or talking to people or being around people but he couldn't live with himself if he just sat there and watched her cry. He twisted his body and placed a hand on her shoulder. He noticed her flinch slightly but in a blink of an eye, she turned around and buried her face into his stomach, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his shirt.

Harry did nothing as he ran his fingers through her hair and just let her cry for the next hour.

"Harry," Y/N whispered in the dark, the both of them lying side by side flat on their backs.

"Yeah." He whispered back.

"I wish I didn't leave the first time." Her confession surprised him. He thought he was the only one who thought about their kiss daily. He often thought how they'd be today if she were to have stayed.

"Me too." He said and felt her pinkie hook around his.

They fell asleep after that.

June 20th 2018

It was summer and Harry was in Italy with his family.

"Harry! Lunch is ready." His mother called from the patio as he sat in a hammock with his guitar.

He lugged himself out of the hammock and felt a vibration in his back pocket.

Y/N: I hope you're having a good time x

He bit back a smile, feeling giddy with the fact that she had messaged him in the middle of the day even though they'd been texting on and off since the summer began.

Harry: Yeah it's been alright, too hot for my liking.

He held his breath as the dots began to appear as she typed out a reply.

Y/N: Why am I not surprised? x

Harry: I've been working on a few songs whilst I'm out here though

Y/N: I look forward to being the first to hear them x

Y/N smiled as she looked down at her phone whilst she sat in the back room on her break from working at the supermarket. He had told her once he'd never played a song before to anyone, not even his mother. She asked him if he'd ever play something to her and he immediately replied with three letters. 'Yes'.

Y/N worked for the rest of the day and finished her shift at three thirty. She had to pick up a few things before she went back to her house where she was living with her mother and grandmother.

She went to check the time on her phone but ended up seeing a message from Harry.

A gasp escaped her lips when she noticed it was a voice note. It was a long time since she had heard Harry's voice.

She reached into her bag for her headphones and pulled out the tangled mess. Suddenly a crackling sound and the heavy rain pouring in the background began to play. She waited until she could hear the gentle strum of a guitar and Harry's voice flooding her ears as he began to sing.

There was something so comforting about his voice and a part of her felt ignited by the pure vulnerability in his voice as he sang. "Sorry, okay bye." He mumbled at the end of the voice note.

She laughed and immediately began to type out a message.

Y/N: It's beautiful.

Harry: I miss you Y/N.

Her heart stuttered from the simple text message.

Y/N: I miss you too Harry.

July 20th 2018

"Here let me take that for you." Harry grabbed her bag and slung it over his shoulder, "I'll show you up to your room.”

"It's...big." Y/N looked at the home Harry had in Italy with his family.

He chuckled, "You could say that."

He was in awe that she was here with him in Italy. He had invited her out when she told him she'd never been abroad before despite having a passport. After asking his mother, he bought her a cheap flight over to the Amalfi Coast and set up the guest bedroom, buying her candles and things from the nearest grocery shop.

"Do you love her?" Anne smirked whilst she stood at the door with her arms crossed, watching her son put face masks into what would be Y/N's bathroom drawer.

"No," He shakes his head. "No, I don't."

"Okay." She said but wasn't assured by his answer.

Harry placed her bags on the double bed and gave her time to take in the house. "Is your mum home?" She wondered.

"No, she and Astrid went to the market," Harry said.

"I can see the sea." She looked past him, out the window.

"That's funny, since you arrived all I can see is you." He whispers, looking into her eyes. She didn't have to tell him she agreed because he already knew.

Things between them had changed over the last month and they both knew it. Since Harry sent the song over to her, things between them were different. They spent the majority of their nights sleeping late and having deep conversations over the phone. Harry now knew more about her than anyone ever did and she knew even more about him.

They hadn't kissed since the night they first met and Harry would be lying if he said he didn't think about it still.

"Harry, come down and help us with the groceries!" His mother called from the kitchen.

Y/N followed Harry down the steps where his mother and sister were. "Harry!" Astrid squealed, the six year old leaping into his arms.

"Hey, Astrid." He smiles, putting her down afterwards and walking over to his mother.

"Oh goodness, you must be Y/N! Harry has told us so much about you." Anne grins and goes over to hug Y/N.

"It's nice to meet you," Y/N spoke, shyly.

"Hi," Astrid grinned, one of her teeth missing.

"Hi Astrid, it's nice to meet you." Y/N grinned.

"You're pretty." Astrid hides behind Harry as she speaks.

Harry and Anne laugh, "Why don't you take Y/N down to our beach? It's a wonderful day outside."

"Sure," Harry nodded, putting the milk in the fridge.

Harry led Y/N back to her room so she could get dressed into her bathing suit. "You don't have to come with us if you don't want to. You're probably tired."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Y/N asked, pulling out her swimsuit from her backpack.

"I want you to be everywhere." He smiles softly.

She bites back a grin, "Give me a second."

Harry walks back in once he puts his swim shorts on and halts his movements when he notices Y/N standing in front of the mirror putting suncream on. Her hair was tied back and she had removed her makeup from her face. She was wearing a black, one piece swimming costume. He could see the curve of her hips and her breasts and watched as she applied sun cream to her bare arms and legs. He didn't want to stare too long but he couldn't help but revel in the beauty of her.

"I'm ready." She smiles, covering her body with a towel.

"Cool." Harry gulps.

. . .

"It's cold." Y/N shivers when she walks further into the ocean.

"It feels good." Harry smiles, walking out into the sea.

They stood facing each other in the middle of the ocean. "Your family seems nice,"

"They're alright," He couldn't stop looking at her.

I really want to kiss you right now. He thought but tried to contain himself.

"Have you written any more songs?" She asks.

"A few, I was inspired you could say."

"By who?" She wonders.

Before he could reply, a wave knocked into them both. Y/N lost her balance and slipped underwater but Harry just managed to grab her waist and hold her before she was able to drift away.

They both started laughing, Harry's hands were on her waist the entire time as they smiled at each other.

"Are you going to kiss me?" Y/N wonders, Harry's breath catching in his throat, "At the party you had the same look in your eye when we were in the closet."

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asks.

"I always want you to kiss me, Harry." She says.

He scoffs, smiling, "You can't say that you know."

"Why not?" She bites her lip.

"Because then I'll just have to kiss you all the time."

"I always want you to kiss me, Harry." She whispers again this time in his ear, arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

Harry shakily exhaled and leaned his head forward. He had thought of this moment for months since the first time they met and he didn't think it would happen for a while. Y/N had told him all the things Shaun had done to her during their short relationship and he knew it would affect her for a while once they had broken up.

She kissed his shoulder, the saltiness of the water on the tip of her tongue, before she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

Harry whimpered like he had been in desperate need of her this whole time and he was finally getting what he wanted. His hands were everywhere as he tried to hold her in the ocean, she pushed his wet hair back and cupped his cheeks.

"Y/N," He whispered over and over again, "I'd never be like him, I hope you know that."

She said nothing, just smiled and kissed him again and again and again and again.

August 3rd 2018

"Do you think I'm a good writer?" Y/N asked, her bare chest pressed against Harry's as she finally caught her breath from opening up to him in a way only he was allowed to see.

"I think you're a wonderful writer." He hums, releasing her hair from her messy ponytail so he could massage her scalp with his fingertips.

"Really?" She smiled up at him, he felt a tight feeling in his stomach at the sight of it.

"Yes." He kissed her sweaty forehead.

"I think you'd be a good musician." She played with his fingers.

"Thank you." He wasn't sure what to say besides that. He knew she had faith in him, sometimes too much.

"Harry," She started. She moved to sit up, she was naked and slouched over but it didn't phase him one bit, he liked seeing her naked, it was possibly one of his favourite things. "Y' know you're my best friend right?"

"I know that," He nods. "You tell me every day."

"I think I might be in love with you." She confesses, a sigh of relief escaping her.

"I know I'm in love with you." He admits, he'd never told anyone he loved them besides his mother and sister but with Y/N it felt different. He felt as though he was opening a part of himself that had always been locked and only she knew how to open it.

"So we love each other?" She crawls over to him, falling beside him and lying on her back, her head lolling to the side to look at him.

His hand goes to her tummy and he rubs his thumb up and down, "We love each other." His hand slowly creeps lower.

"Can we have sex again?" She asks, biting her lip.

He loved the way her cheeks flushed when she spoke about doing intimate things with her. Her eyes would turn a darker shade and the hairs on her arms would stand on end.

"Y'never have to ask." He murmured and kissed her everywhere.

January 30th 2022

Harry and Y/N moved in together when they graduated. It was an easy decision and they didn't regret it one bit.

"Morning baby," Harry hummed, kissing her shoulder and handing her a mug of coffee. She was wearing a shawl and a lace bra with his boxer shorts and he made sure to take a mental picture of her right this moment.

"Morning handsome." She whispered, tired and achy from being at her computer for a second day in a row.

Y/N was a writer or at least trying to be one. She was currently signed to a literary agent and was attempting to get a book published. She'd been spending the last few days going through the edits she'd been sent from her first draft.

He placed two hands on her shoulders and rubbed his thumbs into them, massaging her shoulders and easing some of the tension. "I'm going to the studio today, wrote a few songs last night."

"You did?" She grinned, her head turning to look up at him, "Will I get to hear them first?"

"You know you will. You always get to listen to them first you know that." He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her.

He rubbed his thumbs under her tired eyes as he cupped her cheeks, "Get some sleep darling, please."

"Can I have a kiss first?" She pouts, her eyes gazing up at him.

He snickered and kissed her the same way he did when he first met her, leaving her in a daze as he left her in the kitchen and walked out of the house to get to the studio.

"I think I want to marry her," Harry spoke aloud, his friend Mitch turning to him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I want to marry her."

"Good for you, man. She's good for you." He gives him a friendly pat on the back.

Harry drove home with a memory stick sitting in the passenger seat of his car. He also had an engagement ring in his back pocket that he picked up on his way home. It was cheap and fake, costing him just thirty pounds, but he planned on buying her a new one when he sold some of his demos to other artists.

When he walked through the door, he noticed Y/N was no longer at her computer. He walked into the lounge and saw her passed out on the sofa, a loaf of bread was on the coffee table with a tub of butter and a knife stuck into it.

He sat down beside her, and she stirred. "Hi baby," He stroked her hair out of her face.

"You're home." She hummed, grabbing his hand and holding it to her chest with her eyes still shut.

"Come to bed, my love." He keeps his voice down when he speaks to her.

"But I want to hear your music." Sleep weighed heavy in her voice.

"Y' can hear it tomorrow darling, let's go to bed." He picks her up and cradles her in his arms as he carries her up the stairs.

"Love you," She whispers as he lays her in bed and covers her in the blanket.

"Love you too." He grins, lazily and crawls into bed next to her, holding her tightly.

September 16th 2024

He's never felt pain like this.

"Where is she?" He gripped onto her mother's shoulders, looking at her with pleading eyes.

He had rushed to the hospital, cancelling his show last minute since he was touring with the band he had written songs for. They invited him at the last minute to be the opening act for their show and he accepted despite his homesickness and desire to stay with Y/N.

"Mr Styles?" A nurse approaches with a doctor beside her.

"Is she okay? What's going on?" He was tired before he got the phone call but now he was wide awake and wasn't planning on getting sleep anytime soon.

"Mr Styles, we're going to need you to take a seat." The Doctor places a hand on his shoulder but he brushes it off, growing frustrated.

"Please, just tell me what's going on."

A sigh leaves the doctor's lips, "Miss Y/L/N has had to have emergency brain surgery."

"W-What?" He froze, unsure how to process it all.

"We found a tumour in her brain that we've had to remove, the cancer is still there but-"

He blocked out the doctor's words after that, all he seemed to hear were the words 'surgery' and 'cancer'. Y/N had cancer.

"C-Can I see her?" He had tears rolling down his cheeks.

"She's asleep but you can go in and see her." The Doctor nods and turns to the nurse, giving her instructions.

Everything blurred and moved in slow motion as he walked down the corridors to Y/N's room. He couldn't believe what was happening and whether or not it was real but the pain coursing through him was enough to tell him that his life had taken a turn for the worst.

"We'll leave you alone." The nurse nods.

Harry saw Y/N lying in the hospital bed with wires coming out of her and a bandage wrapped around her head.

"No baby." He shook his head, "No, no, no." He walked forward and fell to his knees in front of her.

He gripped her hand and squeezed tight, sobbing as he tried to think up ways to help her, to trade places, to take all the pain she was feeling and consume it himself.

"You'll be fine," He whispered, kissing her cheek, "You'll be okay." All the while twisting the cheap engagement ring he had given to her before he left to tour.

It wasn't the most extravagant engagement but it was perfect for them. Harry had taken Y/N camping for the first time but they soon realised they both hated it. It didn't help that it was pouring with rain and the tent had a hole in it.

So, they ditched the tent and bought a cheap motel room. They had dinner at a restaurant opposite the petrol station where the food wasn't too good but they had to beat soft serve ice cream.

Harry asked the question after they had sex in their motel room. A tangled, sweaty mess and in a haze, he just blurted out the question to which she immediately said yes and broke down crying because she loved him so much.

Later on, Y/N woke up in the evening with Harry sitting awake beside her.

"H-Harry," She mumbled, her eyes fluttering open and close. She was very tired.

"Hey darling," He crouched down in front of her so he was eye level with her, "M right here."

His voice always soothed her, since the very first day they met, "I'm sick aren't I?" She tears up.

He slowly nods his head, "But you'll get better."

She wasn't so sure.

December 1st 2024

"Can we go to Italy to get married?" Y/N asked, sitting at the windowsill with a book. She was wearing a headscarf over her hairless head as the sun shone through the window.

Harry thought she looked beautiful.

"I thought you wanted to get married here at home?" He wondered, they both wanted something simple so planned their wedding reception to be at their house in the back garden.

She placed her book down and stood up on shaky legs. She was getting thinner the more they did chemotherapy, sometimes she could barely hold her head up from exhaustion but she was fighting her way through it all.

She climbed onto Harry's lap who was sitting at the table writing music. "I want to go to Italy for Christmas and get married."

Harry chuckles, "I don't think people will be happy if we do all that last minute, it'll cost a lot too."

She shakes her head, a cheeky grin on her face, "I just want it to be us two."

He thought about it. He knew how much their families meant to the both of them and how important it was for them to be there but he couldn't lie if he said the thought didn't tempt him.

"What about our parents?" He asked.

"Well I assume they'd be upset for a while but they'll get over it. We can have a party in the back garden just like we originally planned." She snaked her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, he could tell she was getting tired.

"When would you want to leave for Italy?" He wonders and she knew she had persuaded him.

"Tomorrow."

December 3rd 2024

They got married where they kissed on the beach.

Y/N was rushed to the hospital in the evening.

May 22nd 2025

Harry was alone.

He stood in front of the mirror adjusting his tie and tried his best not to get emotional.

He hadn't seen her in a while but he hoped she was giving him some reassurance wherever she was.

"My boy," Anne walked in, wearing a sleek dress, "You look so handsome."

She adjusted the lapels of his suit and cupped his cheeks, a bittersweet look on her face, "They're waiting for you."

He nodded, glanced one last time at the mirror and exhaled.

People were already standing in the pews of the church, some were already crying as he walked to the end of the aisle. He turned around and took a heavy breath, his hands shaky.

"You've got this," Mitch whispered, reassuringly.

Suddenly everyone stood up as the music began to play, waiting for the love of his life to turn the corner.

Y/N beat cancer on Harry's birthday this year.

He cried tears of joy and they celebrated by ordering two ice cream cakes and eating them both with just two spoons and Mamma Mia playing in the background.

They decided they wanted to get married again with a proper ceremony since their wedding in Italy was slightly tainted by the fact she had to go to hospital. Their mothers were also adamant they had another wedding they could actually attend.

He held his breath when she walked out in a beautiful, white dress. It was a tight fitted, mermaid dress with an open back. She was adamant about having a tight fitted dress so she could see how bloated her belly got with the buffet they had for the reception. With the chemo, she couldn't stomach a lot of food but now all she wanted to do was eat and Harry loved it.

His eyes began to water as she walked down the aisle on her own. She didn't want anyone to walk her down the aisle because she didn't like the idea of someone giving her away. No one was giving her away because she had always been Harry's right from the beginning.

"You may now kiss the bride!" Everyone cheered as the Officiant announced it.

Y/N leaned forward and smiled, tears down her face, "Should we make out?" She whispered.

"Most definitely." Harry smiled and it was the happiest he had ever been in his life.

October 1st 2027

Welcome to the world, little Matilda.

You came into this world with sun beams coming out of you and we haven't seen the rain since.

Your mother is currently asleep and I haven't got the heart to wake her up. She never ceases to amaze me with how strong she is and I've promised her months of rest since all you seemed to do was wake her up in the night with your tiny toes and little fingers pressing against her belly.

I've loved your mother for ten whole years now and it just adds to your perfection that you were born on the day we met.

On the day we met, I was awkward and shy and hated people which makes no sense since we were at a party. I had no intention of meeting your mother but she was there and I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

Don't worry Matilda, you are half your mother and will be just as pretty as she is.

She was my first kiss, the first person I opened up to and the only person I wanted to spend my life with.

Except now we have you and my world before these ten years seems non-existent.

I love you Matilda and no matter how much I say I love you, I will always love you more than that.

You have my green eyes and your mother's little nose. I can already tell you have the imagination of your mother because you were grabbing at my fingers last night and making noises with a smile on your face.

I promise to raise you with as much love as I have given your mother and I know your mother will love as hard as she loves me. Our house will be filled with nothing but love for you Matilda and I hope you hold onto that and carry it with you wherever you go.

You will always be the light in our lives from now on my sweet Matilda.

"Is she awake?" Y/N murmurs, eyes still shut.

"No, she's sleeping." Harry looks down at the little girl in his arms.

"I can't believe we made her Harry." She smiles, cheeks pink, reminding him of the time they first met.

It did amaze him how the person they created together was a product of their love. He didn't really think it possible to hold love in his hands until he held Matilda for the first time.

"I love you, Harry." She whispers, holding his hand.

"I love you too." He sighs, feeling utter bliss.

He would do it all again, he thought, the ups and downs and in-betweens, he'd do it all.

Everything with you.

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