#it’s one of those days where you’re constantly struggling with thoughts of ending it

[dualityvn]

Keith would turn to hypnosis or brainwashing to make us love him if he’s fully snapped…?

Could I maybe please request a drabble about that por favor 🥹

Sweet Vacation

CW: kidnapping, brainwashing, fork harassment

Word count: 1345

You ignored the first signs that Keith wasn’t doing well mentally. When he’d turn his back to you at night and sob silently, you’d pretend not to hear it. When he’d spend his evenings staring out the window for hours on end, eyes glazed over, you’d find things to busy yourself with. 

It did annoy you when he put a tracker on you. The fight that followed only made things worse. He became constantly paranoid, asking to hear your voice every hour you weren’t home, having breakdowns when you so much as left the room he was in. 

There was no doubt that he wouldn’t accept it if you tried to break up with him. You never bothered to start the conversation. You simply packed your things one day, blocked his number and left. 

Unfortunately, he’d used more than one tracker. 

- - -

You awaken to an unfamiliar hardwood floor, head pounding and limbs stiff. So stiff, in fact, that you aren’t able to move them. Your eyes shoot open as you tug on the ropes tying your limbs to the chair you're sitting in. 

The room you’re in is unfamiliar, a lavish living room with wooden walls and a large fireplace. A sweet, mind-numbing fragrance catches your attention. Possibly, the herbs burning in a bowl on the coffee table before you. All the curtains are drawn, so you fail to see anything outside. You can’t remember how or when you got here. 

The sound of footsteps approaching brings your attention to the closed door. Keith appears from behind it, looking much more frazzled and unkept than usual. His hair is a bit messy, he’s not wearing the usual concealer under his eyes and his collar is askew. 

“My love! You're awake!” He rushes over to you. 

“Keith! What the hell did you do to me? Where am I?!” 

He shushes you as he caresses your cheek. You want to scream at him, fight against your restraints, yank yourself away from his touch. But for some reason, as soon as those thoughts enter your mind, they fade away. 

“Everything's alright, dear. You're safe now. I'm sorry about the ropes, but there was no other way. I'll take them off once they're not needed anymore.” 

There is nothing sane in his gaze. His eyes are big and alert and his smile is too wide for comfort. 

“Where are we?” you ask, much calmer than you'd like. 

“Somewhere where nobody will bother us! Don't worry, it's just the two of us.” 

You don't know what he's done to you, but your fear, anger and alarm are all much too mild. 

“Oh! I've made you lunch! Let me grab it for you before it gets cold.” 

He rushes off through the door, then returns with a plate of food and a fork. The sight and smell of it makes your stomach grumble. For how long were you out? 

“I hope you like it! Open wide!” Keith holds some of it out in front of you. 

Thoughts of turning away or refusing the food pass through your mind, then leave just as fast. You reluctantly open your mouth. 

Even when he's crazy, he manages to make infuriatingly good food. You do not complain about being fed the entire plate. If you want to try to get out of this situation, you'll need the energy anyway.

“You ate everything! Good job!” he praises you cheerfully. 

Then, he looks down at the fork in his hand. His eyes flicker between it and your mouth for a moment. Until they eventually settle on you as he brings the fork near his face and licks the part that's been in your mouth. Once his tongue reaches the tips of the tines, he sticks them entirely in his mouth. 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. Before you can say anything about it, he sets the fork back on the plate and turns to leave. 

“I'll bring you a glass of water! Can't let you get dehydrated!” 

What the hell was that? How far gone is he? 

You finally get your brain to cooperate and attempt to struggle against your bindings. Unfortunately, they're tight and secure. Looking around, you can't spot anything sharp enough to cut them. 

When Keith returns, he's brought back not only your glass of water but also a small satchel. You eye it curiously as he helps you drink. 

And once it's done, he sets down the glass and opens up the satchel. It's full of herbs, some of which he places in the bowl with the others. That mind number scent hits you again. Any thought you'd had of escaping is beginning to blur.

As if reading your thoughts, Keith answers. “Just a little something to help you relax! I know you're probably quite stressed.” 

He puts the satchel away and picks up a book instead. “How about I read you something? That way you won't be bored!” 

You want to say no, you want to reason with him, ask him to let you go, convince him none of this is necessary. But none of it leaves your lips. 

“Okay,” you say instead. 

- - -

It's been two days since Keith locked you up in this house. He's fed you and kept you hydrated. When he's not been taking care of you, he's been keeping you entertained or simply chatted with you. 

Perhaps it's your fault you've ended up this way. You ignored the signs that he wasn't doing well. You weren't a very good partner overall. 

This morning he made you heart shaped pancakes with strawberries. It was kind of cute. 

Perhaps you don't need to escape, perhaps he will snap back to reality and release you himself. The two of you aren't good for each other. 

- - -

Four days have passed since Keith brought you here. He untied you from the chair but kept your wrist handcuffed to his to make sure you don't run away. 

It's a pretty nice vacation home. Apparently you're in the mountains. The view from the balcony is stunning. Although it gave you a bit of a fright when you woke up here four days ago, it isn't so bad. 

Keith still insists that you let him prepare meals, despite you being able to help now. You can't believe you treated him so coldly before. When he discovered you had bruises on your wrists from the rope, he cried and kissed them better. 

At night, when you get ready for bed, he asks if he can cuddle you. If you say no, he keeps his distance. When you do give him permission, he holds you tight and whispers that he loves you. He smells sweet, a bit like burnt herbs. 

- - -

It's been a week since the start of your little vacation. You took a walk through the forest this morning, hand in hand with your beloved boyfriend. He told you about the plants that grow here and which ones are safe to eat. He's so smart! 

When you got back, you made lunch together. He’s been a bit down and anxious the past few days, but today he was in good spirits. Though he still won't tell you where he got the new perfume he's been wearing. It's so sweet, it makes you want to hold him close constantly. 

Now that it's evening, you're both sitting on the couch, cuddling as you watch TV. Keith holds you against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. You feel safe here. 

“I love you,” you murmur. 

He stiffens at once. Thinking there must be something wrong, you pull away to look at him. A mixture of shock and joy battles on his features. 

“I love you too!” Tears are spilling from his eyes. 

You laugh and cup his face, holding it still so you can kiss away his tears. Your boyfriend is so sentimental. His hand brushes over your chin, silently asking you to lean down. His lips quiver against yours, soft and uncertain. You press in lovingly. 

Even the taste of his lips is sweet.

[harmonizewithechoes]

.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

you’re not sorry - m.s.

part one of avery’s playlist series

summary: could’ve loved you all my life if you hadn’t left me in the cold

warnings: angst, sensitive topics, no happy ending.

{read with caution}

wc: 3k+

Another night.

Another night waiting up for your boyfriend who could never be bothered to let you know when he’d be home; if he’d even be coming home that night.

It was like this for months at this point. Day after day of you waiting up just for him to stumble inside smelling like alcohol and weed, clothes disheveled as he plows through your front door. You didn’t even know what had changed, but it had.

Things were so good, beyond good, to the point where you guys were considering marriage, considering a family. Maybe it was all too much for him, but that wasn’t your burden to bear.

Your perfect, loving boyfriend had turned into someone you barely recognized, having to look so hard to find pieces of the man you fell for in the man you no longer knew.

You were about to give up and head to bed when you heard keys jingling at the front door, the man outside clearly struggling to unlock it. You stayed planted on the couch, waiting for him to finally come crashing in and make up some excuse about what he was doing out so late. You never believed him anymore.

When the door swung open and your boyfriend stumbled through it, his eyes met yours almost instantly, a small, forced smile appearing on his face. “Hey, baby,” he calls out, shutting the door behind him and kicking his shoes off before he made his way towards you, tripping over his own feet once or twice until he sat down next to you.

You let out an aggravated sigh, standing up and walking away from the couch, not wanting to sit next to him and smell the alcohol leeching off of his breath. It was beyond disgusting and if the smell didn’t make you sick, the thought of everything would. The thought of your life crumbling in a matter of months was enough to make you cry so hard you threw up on multiple occasions, the depression caused by this man that swore he loved you being the culprit of so many breakdowns you couldn’t even count anymore.

“You’re drunk, Matt,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

His eyes trail up to you, shaking his head quickly. “I’m not drunk, just tipsy, I swear. I stopped drinking a few hours ago.”

Your heart dropped. A few hours ago?

“And where have you been in those last few hours, hm?” You question, not really knowing if you wanted to know the answer.

Matt groans, throwing his head back on the couch. “Here we fucking go. All you do is nag on me fucking constantly, why do you think I’m gone all the time? I’ll tell you. Because you can’t fucking shut the fuck up and let me live for two minutes. You’re always up my ass asking me what I’m doing or who I’m with.”

Your heart starts to race in your chest, knowing you’re about to get in another fight with the man you used to never argue with. You used to have perfect communication, always able to work through your issues and things that bothered you, but now it was like a flip switched and he wanted to argue about everything, sober or not.

“I never see you anymore, Matt! You’re never home to just spend time with me! All I fucking want is to lay in bed and watch a movie with my boyfriend who cuddles with me and tells me he loves me! You act like I don’t exist and it hurts and I’m trying to stay but sometimes I wonder why I do.” Your voice is shaky as you speak, the adrenaline and emotions quickly getting to you. You never were good at fighting without crying.

“Why?” Matt questions quietly, dropping his gaze to his lap.

You’re confused. “Why what?” You ask him dryly, arms still crossed in an attempt to protect yourself, almost like you were protecting your heart.

He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks. “Why try to stay? If I’m so awful?”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was this it? Was this the fight you’ve been fearing for the last few weeks? Has everything you both have worked towards finally hit a wall?

“Because… because I keep hoping this is just a phase and you’ll snap out of it and love me again,” you choke out, tears filling your eyes. “I don’t understand what I did to make you not love me anymore and every day that I sit here by myself and think about it, I can’t come up with an answer and you won’t tell me. I would do fucking anything for you and you can’t even tell me you love me anymore.”

Matt let out a big sigh, picking at a rip in his jeans absentmindedly. “I do love you, I just… I need some time to myself.”

You scoff, crying now and not trying to stop it. “You don’t think I would’ve given you time? Space? Matt, all you had to say was that you were getting overwhelmed and needed time think about what you wanted, I would’ve understood that. Do you understand the fucking weight behind that? You have a woman who would let you take a step back from a relationship just because she knows how much you value your own space and time and your own autonomy. You will never fucking find a woman that will treat you the way I treat you. You will never find someone who loves you unconditionally through everything, including this. I swear to god, Matt, you better get your act together before you come home to fucking nothing.”

“Maybe that’s what I want!” Matt yells suddenly, getting up from the couch to walk over to you. You weren’t afraid, you knew he’d never hit you, but he’s also never yelled in your face like this either. “Maybe every fucking night I come home hoping you’ve packed up all of your shit and left. Hell, you could pack my shit and I’d be happy, I don’t fucking care, I just want to come home and know that you’ve finally given up on me. Don’t you get it? I’m trying to make it easy for you. I’m trying to be the worst boyfriend I could possibly be and you still won’t leave!”

The moment he’s done speaking you swear you could hear a pin drop. You felt like your world had completely stopped spinning on its axis.

You’re lightheaded as you stare at Matt, tears flowing freely down your face. He really was completely unrecognizable.

“What did I do?” You cried, still wanting nothing more than to feel your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he wouldn’t, and it wasn’t. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Matt listened to your cries with a straight face, barely even seeming like he cared. “I just… don’t want to be with you anymore. Our relationship has run its course.”

You drop your head and let out a broken sob, reaching a hand up to try to wipe away your tears, but it was to no avail, they would just keep coming. “I love you with everything I have, I… I need you, Matt, how could you do this?”

Matt is silent, feeling like he’s already said all he needed to say. If he cared at all, he really didn’t show it.

You pick your head back up and look at Matt, your own eyes red and puffy, when you see it. You think it’s a shadow at first, but the more you stare, the more you realize your eyes aren’t deceiving you. You take a step forward and reach towards Matt, pulling the hood off his head and tugging the collar down, another choked cry falling from your lips.

“Is that a fucking hickey?” You accuse, looking up to meet his eyes. “You’re fucking cheating on me, too?!”

Matt grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him, throwing your arm back towards yourself before pulling his hood back up. “Back the fuck up, dude, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You laugh in his face, shaking your head in disbelief. “You are so fucking pathetic, Matt,” you spit at him. “You are so much of a pussy that you couldn’t even be a man and break up with me, you needed me to do it for you. Do you feel good about yourself? Knowing you cheated on someone who would literally give you the world? God, I can’t believe I almost gave you a fucking kid, you’re a joke of a partner. I feel bad for anyone that has to deal with you for the rest of their life.”

Matt clenches his jaw tightly at your words, hating how you knew exactly how to strike a nerve with him. “You think I feel good about this? I fucking don’t but I didn’t know what else to do, you would’ve never listened if I tried to leave you, you would’ve talked me into staying and I would’ve been miserable for the rest of my life!”

“You are the one that said you wanted a family! The one that said you wanted to marry me and buy our own farm and live in the middle of fucking nowhere! You said all of those things, not me!” You wanted to hit him so bad. To shake him, to kick him, to do anything to make him see how none of this made sense to you. How could he say all of those things and turn on you so quickly?

You two were laid in bed under the blankets, neither of you ready to get out of bed for the day just yet. The sun shone through the blinds, illuminating Matt’s face perfectly, his blue eyes reflecting the light in a way that had you damn near in a trance, unable to pull your own eyes away from him. “I hope our babies have your eyes,” you tell him quietly, both of you laying on your sides to face each other.

He smiled shyly at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “Stop admiring me, it makes me awkward.” He mumbled, making you laugh.

“I’m your girlfriend, I’m supposed to admire you. Plus, it helps that you’re really hot and easy to admire.” You reach up and brush your hands through his hair that definitely needs a trim, pulling it back from his face to get a better view. “I’m serious, though. Your eyes are so pretty compared to mine.”

Matt opens his eyes and shoots you an annoyed look. “Stop it, our kids would be lucky to have any of your features, you’re fucking stunning.”

You giggle and roll over onto your back, staring at the ceiling for a few moments before speaking. “Do you ever think about that? Like what our kids will look like? I think about it all the time. Especially like… a little girl, running around with your bright blue eyes and your big smile. I just know if we had a little girl she’d be so beautiful, Matt.” You turn your head towards your boyfriend to see him already smiling at you.

“I think about it all the time,” he starts, reaching a hand out to rest on your stomach that had been exposed by your shirt riding up, softly trailing his thumb back and forth. “I think about how protective I’d be if we had a daughter, or daughters. I think about how much of an honor it would be to raise a son with you. I think about what would happen if you got pregnant with twins or, god forbid, triplets.” You laugh at this, knowing it would be an absolute shit show. “I think about our kids, sure, but a lot of times I think to myself, ‘wow, if I love her so much now, I can’t imagine how much I’ll love her when she’s the mother of my children.’ That’s what I think.”

Your eyes become glossy and your vision goes slightly blurry as you stare at Matt, seeing the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke to you. “I love you,” you tell him and his face lights up, leaning in to place a small kiss on your lips.

“I love you more.”

“I did,” Matt shrugs his shoulders like it was no big deal. “But feelings change. People change.”

You shake your head angrily, not believing him. “No, not like that. Feelings don’t change like that, Matt. You met somebody else, didn’t you? All this time you’ve been seeing someone else.”

Matt groans, rubbing his eyes harshly. “So what?! It doesn’t matter, we’re over now, right? I’ll sleep on the couch and pack my shit tomorrow, can we just go to bed?”

You sniffle, the truth finally setting in that he’s completely given up and there was no getting him back. The Matt you once loved was gone forever and there was nothing you could do about it.

So you decided to land the final blow and make him realize how stupid he really was.

You grab his right hand with your left, facing it palm up as you reach your free hand into your pocket, grabbing the strip of paper you had kept in there, waiting for the perfect moment to drop this bomb on him. You slap the paper into his open hand before taking a step away, crossing your arms again.

“What is this?” Matt asks, staring down at the photos in front of him, panic setting in his chest. “Babe… babe, what is this?” He looks up at you, eyes wide. You swear you could almost hear his heart pounding.

“It’s an ultrasound, jackass.” You snap at him, completely over his shit.

Matt’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, eyes snapping between you and the photos. “You’re… pregnant?” He chokes out. Despite all the alcohol he’s consumed tonight, he feels the most sober he has in weeks, the reality of the situation crashing into him like a truck.

You laugh at his reaction, hating how he suddenly cared about you again. “Was,” you tell him bluntly, shrugging your shoulders like nothing you said mattered. “Turns out never getting any sleep and stressing out over your loser, lowlife boyfriend isn’t good for a baby.”

Matt lets out a huff of air like his lungs had collapsed in on him, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. “You… you were pregnant, and now you’re not?” He asks quietly, his own voice now shaking.

“Yes, Matthew, I was and now I’m not. That’s how that fucking works.” You walk over and snatch the pictures from him, ignoring his pleas of denial. “While you were out doing whatever the fuck or whoever the fuck you wanted, I was here throwing up every day by my fucking self, barely even able to eat oatmeal without getting sick. I was here reading up on how to get through pregnancy or how to be a good mother. I was here shopping for fucking baby clothes and decorations. And I was the one here miscarrying in our bed, by myself!” You have no idea when you started crying again, but you were, and there was no stopping it this time. “I was the one going to doctors appointments and listening to our baby’s teeny tiny heart beating. I was here looking at pictures of her tiny feet and tiny toes, wondering if she’d look like you or like me. I was here picking up the pieces when I found out her teeny tiny heart had stopped.”

Matt’s eyes had filled with tears now, too, his bright blue eyes only made brighter by the reflection of the lamp lit in the corner of the room. “Her?” He croaked, voice failing him. “It was a girl?”

You let out a sob, nodding your head weakly. “I found out the day I found out she was gone,” you cry, voice entering a higher pitch from your throat tightening. “I wanted her so bad, Matt, and I was just waiting for you to come around so I could tell you, and… you just never did and now we’re over. I went from a girl who wanted nothing more than a family with the man she loves to being a girl who’s oddly grateful she lost a baby so she doesn’t have to deal with looking at her daughter that reminds her of the man that broke her heart.”

Matt reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, releasing a shaky breath out. “I’m sorry,” he whimpers, looking you dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry, if I had known-.”

“If you had known then what? You wouldn’t have treated me like shit? You wouldn’t have cheated? That should’ve been the bare fucking minimum, Matt, and now you’ve let down who was supposed to be the two most important girls in your life.” You point your finger at him as you speak, wanting to drive your point home and let him know how badly he had fucked up. “I would’ve done fucking anything for you, including growing your baby, and you threw that away, not me.”

“I was just scared, it was all happening so fast!” Matt wails, reaching out for you. “I got overwhelmed with the thought of settling down and I freaked out, I’m sorry.”

You push his hands away, ignoring his pleas. “You said it yourself, Matt. It’s over. Besides, I can’t bring her back. I’m always going to look at you and remember how you treated me when I had your baby inside me, and how you treated me when I dealt with the loss of our baby.”

Matt sobbed, placing his head in his hands as his shoulder shook. “I didn’t know!”

“You shouldn’t have to know!” You cried, hands flailing in front of you as you spoke, or more yelled. “You shouldn’t have to know I’m pregnant just to treat me like your fucking girlfriend! I would’ve done anything for you, including give up my body for nine months to give you a family, and you couldn’t even be loyal, and you have to live with that for the rest of your fucking life.”

Matt sunk to his knees in front of you, head resting on your stomach as he wraps his arms around your hips. You just stare down at him, your tears dripping into his hair. “I’m so sorry, please let me fix this,” he sobs into your sweater, hands gripping the back of it. “I fucked up so bad, I see that now.”

The sight of him made you want to crumble. You wanted to give in, to comfort him, to forget these last few months and go back to being the perfect happy couple you used to be. You didn’t know how you were supposed to live without him after all this time.

But you deserved better.

“Get up,” you tell him quietly and he turns his head up to look at you, cheeks soaked with his own tears. You reach down and cup his cheek, thumb swiping under his eyes to wipe new tears that fell. “Get up, Matt.”

He sniffles and obliges, standing in front of you once again, closer this time.

“You’re not sorry you hurt me,” you start, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re just sorry it backfired so badly.”

Matt grabs your hand that still rested on his face, holding it close and leaning into it. “Please,” he says, voice raspy. “Can we spend one more night together?”

You break eye contact to drop your eyes to the floor, shoulders shaking with the sob that ripped through your body.

“Yes,” you croak out, immediately melting into the arms that wrapped themselves around you like you’d disappear if he let go, your face tucking into his neck that smelled like cheap, floral perfume, the scent feeling like a dagger to your heart.

You ignored it, though. Anything for one more night with the love of your life.

-

taglist

[blackenedsnow]

Hey! Could I request a Shadow the hedgehog x fem reader where she’s super depressed and always has been, but she means everything to Shadow? He’s constantly trying to protect her, even from herself (self harm), because he sees so much of Maria in her. It makes him a bit obsessive, like he can’t bear to lose her. Lots of angst but maybe a hopeful ending?"

is this what i have become?

WARNING: Depression, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts, obsessive tendencies

PAIRING: Shadow The Hedgehog x (Fem) Depressed! Reader

NOTE: Please read with care. I hope you can find some catharsis in the story, and remember that help is always available if you need it. Take care of yourselves.

SUMMARY: Shadow the Hedgehog has always been by your side, a silent protector. But the more he tries to shield you, the deeper you fall into your own despair.

It was another late evening, the room dim and quiet except for the soft hum of the outside world, which felt too far away to reach. You sat on the edge of your bed, an open book in your lap, though the words were just a blur at this point. It was hard to focus. Your mind was always drifting, weighed down by the ever-present heaviness that never seemed to lift.

Shadow was nearby, as he often was. His presence was constant, lingering like a dark guardian at the edge of your thoughts, protective yet heavy with unspoken tension. You knew why. He saw something in you—something that reminded him of her. Maria.

You’d never brought it up. You didn’t need to. It was clear in the way he looked at you, the way he stayed by your side, never leaving for too long, as though he was afraid that if he did, you’d disappear, just like she had. He wasn’t just trying to protect you; he was trying to save you.

But that was the problem. You didn’t feel like you could be saved.

The book in your lap was one you’d picked up in a vain attempt to distract yourself, to focus on something other than the numbness that had become your constant companion. You flipped another page, not really reading. One passage caught your eye, though, standing out in the blur of words:

The fragility of the species was not just a testament to evolution but a symbol of overdevelopment to the point of self-destruction.

When you closed the book, your gaze drifted toward Shadow. He stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed, watching you with that unreadable expression he always wore. You wondered if he thought the same of you. You often feel like those creatures—too fragile for this world, collapsing under the slightest pressure. Your body, your mind—both seem to be breaking down, unable to withstand the forces around you, yet here you were, still standing, much like the last surviving member of an endangered species, teetering on the edge of extinction.

Shadow didn’t say anything. His silence was telling. He didn’t need to speak to make his point. He was there to protect you, not to offer philosophical musings. But it made you wonder if, one day, he would see that his protection was futile—that, like those fragile creatures, you were destined to break, no matter how hard he tried to save you.

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. You looked away, the weight of everything pressing harder against your chest. How could you explain to him that you weren’t strong like him? That the very act of existing felt like too much sometimes?

“You’re quiet tonight.” His voice cut through the stillness, low and controlled, like always. Shadow rarely broke his calm demeanor, even when the situation called for it. He didn’t need to raise his voice to make himself heard.

“I’m just tired,” you replied, though that was only half the truth.

Shadow didn’t move, his red eyes piercing through the dimness, watching you closely. “You’re always tired,” he murmured, his voice soft but edged with concern. He knew, of course. He always knew when you were struggling more than usual, but tonight, the weight was unbearable.

You stood abruptly, the book falling off your lap as you moved toward the window, needing space, needing air, but finding none. The room felt too small. You felt too trapped. It had been like this for days now—no, for years, ever since you could remember. The depression had always been there, gnawing at you from the inside, and despite Shadow’s constant presence, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were slowly crumbling away.

And then, before you realized what you were doing, your fingers found the cold handle of the blade you kept tucked away in a drawer. Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, of an end to the pain that had haunted you for so long. You were going to bring it to the other room with you, but before you could do anything, Shadow was there. He moved like a shadow himself, quick and deliberate, positioning himself between you and the door, blocking any way out.

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, like he was sizing up the situation. Maybe he is, you thought. Maybe he’s calculating the precise force it would take to disarm you without causing injury, or the fastest way to get the blade out of your hand.

You looked at him, tears threatening to spill, and for a moment, you wondered if Shadow—this strong, quiet being who had been through more than most could even comprehend—could understand desperation.

“Put it down,” he said, his voice calm but firm, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t need that.”

Your knuckles are changing color as you grip the handle, the steel biting into your skin as if it too understands the pain clawing inside you. Shadow’s crimson eyes don’t waver. His gaze is a heavy, constant pressure—he’s assessing, strategizing, always in control. And yet... something flickers in those eyes. Fear? No, not fear. Desperation.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he says, voice as calm and measured as ever, but there’s an underlying current, a tension he can’t quite mask. He’s trying to stay composed, but you know him better than that. He’s scared.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought clearly,” you whisper, your voice sounding alien to your own ears. The room feels too small, like the walls are closing in. You can feel the air between you both, thick and suffocating.

You hesitated. The ache inside you screamed for release, for a way out, but Shadow’s presence, his unwavering strength, kept you grounded. He was always there, always watching, always ready to intervene. And in this moment, he was the only thing tethering you to the world.

“I’m not… like you,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I’m not strong. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

He stepped closer, his movements careful, deliberate. “You are strong,” he said quietly. “You’ve survived this long. That’s more strength than you realize.”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks now. “But I’m not. I’m nothing. You… You’re strong, Shadow. You’ve been through so much, and you’re still standing. I can barely make it through a day.”

Shadow’s eyes softened in a way that made your heart ache. He didn’t often show vulnerability, but here, now, you could see the cracks beneath his stoic facade.

“I’m not as strong as you think,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “I’m not invincible. I’ve lost people I care about. I’ve failed before… But I won’t fail you. I won’t lose you.”

When you’d first met Shadow, you hadn’t understood why he was drawn to you, why he stayed, despite the darkness that clung to you. But over time, you’d realized it wasn’t about you, not really. It was about something deeper in him, something broken. You reminded him of her—Maria.

You hated that. Hated that you were a stand-in for a ghost, someone he could never save. It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to you.

But that didn’t stop the connection from forming, binding you two in ways neither of you could explain. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t right. But it was real, and that’s all you had.

“I’m not her,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “I’m not Maria.”

Shadow’s eyes softened, the faintest flicker of pain crossing his features. He knew that, of course he did. But knowing didn’t change the way he looked at you sometimes, like you were his last chance to fix something broken deep inside himself.

You could see the pain in his eyes, the weight of his past bearing down on him just as much as your own struggles weighed on you. He wasn’t just trying to protect you from the world—he was trying to protect you from yourself, from the darkness that had consumed so much of his life.

“Shadow… I…” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence, how to explain the turmoil inside you. It wasn’t just the depression. It was the constant feeling of being not enough, of being broken beyond repair.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he says finally, the words almost a growl, like they’re ripped from him against his will. He doesn’t say things like this—he doesn’t need to. His actions have always spoken louder than words. But now, faced with the possibility of losing you, he’s breaking his own rules.

“You don’t even like me,” you retort, your voice shaking, barely more than a whisper. “You don’t like yourself.”

His expression doesn’t change, but you can tell the words hit him. They hang in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. He’s never been good at hiding his disdain for himself, for the creature he believes himself to be. He knows he’s broken too, and maybe he is. But he’s strong. So much stronger than you.

“You’re wrong.” His voice is lower now, almost pleading. “You mean everything to me.”

He reached out, gently taking the blade from your hand, his touch firm but careful, never letting go of you. He tossed the knife aside and pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his grip strong but not suffocating. He’s not just trying to protect you—he’s holding on, desperately. Like if he lets go, even for a second, you’ll slip away, just like Maria did.

You swallow hard, tears burning at the edges of your eyes. You don’t want to hurt him. You don’t.

You buried your face in his fluffy chest, the tears coming harder now, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to cry. Allowed yourself to feel the pain that had been building up for so long.

“I won’t let you break,” he whispered, his voice low and fierce. “Not like this. You mean everything to me.” He repeated.

His words hung heavy in the air, and despite the darkness inside you, there was something in his voice that made you believe him, even if just for a moment. Maybe you weren’t as strong as him, but in his arms, you felt like you could be. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

[bluelavendre]

Title: "Strength in the Ranks"

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: RM (Kim Namjoon) x reader

Genre: Military Romance to Angst..

During his military enlistment, Kim Namjoon found himself facing challenges he hadn’t prepared for. The early days were tough—the drills, the exhaustion, the feeling of being constantly on edge. But there was one thing that caught him off guard more than anything: her.

Her name was [Y/N], and she was part of a female platoon, standing tall and commanding with a presence that seemed to overshadow everyone around her. Namjoon noticed her immediately, not just because of her position, but because of the way she moved, the way she commanded attention without ever needing to raise her voice. She was a leader, every inch of her disciplined and focused, but there was something about her that made Namjoon uneasy. It wasn’t her skill or experience—it was her strength, her confidence, and the way she held herself with such authority. It intimidated him in a way he hadn’t expected.

The first time they interacted, Namjoon had been struggling during a particularly grueling morning drill. His body was already aching, his muscles burning, and his mind was screaming for him to stop. He was clearly not keeping up, and she had noticed. Without hesitation, she called him out, her voice sharp and unyielding.

“Namjoon! Why are you lagging behind?” she asked, stepping up beside him.

“I’m... I’m just trying to adjust, ma’am,” he replied, out of breath and feeling small under her gaze.

Her eyes scanned him carefully before she nodded. “You’re not here to try. You’re here to do. You’ll push through it, or you’ll be left behind.”

It was a simple command, but the weight of it settled on his chest. She wasn’t just training recruits—she was shaping them, molding them into something more. Something stronger.

The next day, she was there again, her voice always cutting through the noise of the training field, directing her platoon with ease. Namjoon couldn’t help but watch her, his admiration growing with every interaction. But it wasn’t just her leadership that captivated him—it was the way she carried herself, like she had a deep, unshakable understanding of what it meant to be strong. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally. She was relentless, pushing herself and those around her to their limits.

One afternoon, after a particularly brutal set of drills, she came to him, offering a hand to help him up as he lay on the ground, gasping for air. “You’re not done yet,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “We have one more set.”

Namjoon blinked, exhaustion clouding his vision, but something in her gaze made him push through. He wasn’t sure what it was—her confidence, the way she believed in him when he didn’t believe in himself—but something stirred in him, and he pushed himself to his feet. She didn’t need to say anything else; her presence alone was enough to inspire him.

As the days went by, Namjoon felt himself changing. His body grew stronger, but it was his mind that was shifting the most. He began to see the world through a different lens—one where determination and resilience were just as important as skill. And he owed a lot of that to her.

One evening, after the day’s drills had ended, they found themselves standing alone on the training grounds, the stars just beginning to appear above them. Namjoon had been quiet all night, his thoughts swirling around everything he had learned so far, and about the woman who had helped him get to this point.

“You’ve come a long way, Namjoon,” she said, her voice softening for the first time since they had met. Her usual tough exterior was still there, but there was a small crack in it now.

He looked at her, feeling a strange warmth spreading through him. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he admitted, his words coming out more sincere than he had intended.

She gave him a small smile, her eyes softening just a fraction. “I didn’t do it for you. You did it for yourself. You just needed to see it.”

The air between them felt different now, charged with something unspoken. Namjoon had never thought he could admire someone so much, but there was something about her—her strength, her confidence, her ability to lead—that had drawn him in. It wasn’t just the way she commanded respect; it was the way she made him believe in his own potential.

For the first time, he wasn’t intimidated by her. Instead, he felt a deep respect, one that went beyond admiration. She had become more than just a mentor to him—she had become someone he looked up to, someone who made him want to be better, not just in the military, but in life.

As the silence stretched between them, Namjoon felt something shift. Maybe it was the shared experience of struggle, of pushing each other to be better. Or maybe it was just the simple fact that they had spent so much time together, testing each other’s limits. But whatever it was, he knew that she had become an important part of his life.

And as he looked at her, standing tall and unyielding, he realized that this—this connection between them—wasn’t something he could ignore. There was something there, something he couldn’t quite name, but it was undeniable.

“You’re stronger than you think,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Namjoon nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. “I think I’m starting to believe that,” he murmured.

She gave him a look that was both challenging and encouraging, her eyes locking with his for a moment that felt like eternity. And in that moment, he knew—he wasn’t just growing stronger as a soldier. He was growing stronger because of her.

Strength in the Ranks (Post-Enlistment)

The day had finally come. Namjoon had completed his military enlistment. The long months of rigorous training, sweat, and exhaustion had come to an end, and he was officially a civilian again. He stood at the gates of the military base, watching as the other recruits began to make their way home. There was a sense of relief in the air, but also a deep, lingering sadness that Namjoon couldn't shake.

He had made it. He had survived. But it was more than that—he had grown. He had learned what true strength was, and he owed so much of that to her. The woman who had been there every step of the way, pushing him when he couldn’t push himself, guiding him when he was lost. And now, as he stood there, watching the gates open before him, he realized something he hadn’t expected: he didn’t want to leave her behind.

The thought of never seeing her again was enough to make his chest ache. It wasn’t just the mentorship or the training—though that had been important. It was something deeper. His feelings for her had grown over the course of those months, though he had kept them hidden beneath a facade of respect and camaraderie. But now that he was leaving, he couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

He missed her already.

For the next few weeks, Namjoon adjusted to his life as a civilian again, but the sense of emptiness never fully left him. He would go out with his friends, try to keep busy, but his thoughts often wandered back to her. Her steady gaze, her leadership, the way her voice had always been the perfect balance of command and care. He hadn’t realized just how much he had come to rely on her presence until it was gone.

One evening, as Namjoon sat in his apartment, feeling the weight of his solitude, an idea began to form in his mind. He missed her. And though he wasn’t sure if she would even want to see him, he couldn’t shake the urge to at least try. So, he did something impulsive.

He went to the local restaurant, the one she always mentioned during training, the one she loved for its comforting dishes. He picked up a few of her favorite meals, just to bring them to her. He figured flowers were too cliché—she had never been the type to get swept up in romance or flowers. No, she would appreciate food, something practical, something she could enjoy.

Namjoon didn’t expect much. He didn’t know what he was hoping for—maybe just a smile, a moment to say thank you. But most of all, he just wanted to see her again.

When he arrived at the military base, he hesitated at the gates. The familiar surroundings, the old barracks, the drills—everything felt so far behind him now. Yet, here he was, standing with a bag of food in his hands like some kind of silly admirer.

He finally walked to the familiar barracks where she had stayed, the ones with the quiet hallway and the faint smell of training gear lingering in the air. He knocked softly on her door.

It took a moment, but the door creaked open. When she saw him, there was a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but quickly replaced by a warm smile. "Namjoon?" she asked, her voice friendly but curious. "What are you doing here?"

He held up the bag of food, smiling sheepishly. "I, uh... I thought you might like something to eat. It’s your favorite from the restaurant down the road. I didn’t know what to bring you, so... I figured this would work."

Her eyes softened, and she stepped back, gesturing for him to come in. “That’s very sweet of you,” she said, her tone warm and genuine. “I didn’t expect a visit from you, but I’m glad you came.”

As they sat down together, sharing the food, Namjoon couldn’t help but notice the way she laughed, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about the old days at the base. It was so easy to be around her, like nothing had changed.

But deep down, his heart was growing heavier. There was something he hadn’t expected in this simple reunion: the realization that his feelings for her had grown stronger over time. They were no longer just admiration or respect. They were deeper—more personal.

But what he didn’t know was that she still saw him as nothing more than a friend.

A few days later, Namjoon found himself back at the military base, walking through the familiar halls, still reflecting on his visit with her. He didn’t know what he was expecting to find, but he felt this lingering desire to see her again, to hear her voice and laugh.

As he passed a corner, he overheard voices from a nearby room. One of them was hers. He paused, his hand on the doorframe, unsure if he should continue listening. But something in him made him stay, drawn to the conversation unfolding behind the door.

“She said yes,” the voice on the other side of the door said. It was a male voice, deep and familiar. Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat. “We’re getting married. I can’t wait to start our life together.”

Namjoon’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak.

But then her voice followed, calm and steady. “I’m glad. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

The words were like a punch to his gut, the air in his lungs completely disappearing. She was engaged. She was already planning a future with someone else.

It wasn’t just a blow to his heart—it was a revelation he hadn’t prepared for. For all the moments they had shared, for all the time he had spent thinking about her, there was someone else in her life. Someone she had chosen. Someone who would get to stand by her side, someone who would be there in a way he never could.

Namjoon turned slowly, his heart heavy with the weight of what he had just overheard. It wasn’t anger or jealousy, but a deep sadness. He had known, on some level, that this might happen. But hearing it out loud felt like a final blow.

He walked away quietly, the bag of food he had brought now feeling useless in his hands. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to face her the same way again. His feelings had been laid bare in that moment, and now, he had to let them go.

-------

Hey Blubs, hehe I didn't mean to hurt joonie🥲

-Bluelle💙🩵

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Take A Fucking Hint

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

Steve is incredibly oblivious to the big hints that his girlfriend drops whenever they kiss and it takes his best friends knocking some sense into him for him to get it.

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, Steve is a naive baby, lots of kissing

WC: 1.5k

Minors DNI

Steve Rogers had his first kiss in 1931. It had been his 13th birthday and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember the girl’s name. But when the fireworks went off, she shyly asked him if he would like a kiss in lieu of a birthday gift. Her lips were chapped and tasted like the cotton candy she had just eaten, it was barely even a peck but Steve thought it was magical.

The next time Steve kissed someone was right above Howard Stark’s lab with an officer who yanked him into a corner, eager to have her way with him. The kiss was tinged with a lust he couldn’t comprehend. He didn’t hate it but he also didn’t like it, it felt wrong to him. A kiss should be an expression of love, he thought, not some desire for someone based only on their body.

Peggy Carter kissed him next. It was in the middle of a battle as they chased down a plane loaded with bombs. It was fuelled with adrenaline and desperation, like they knew they would never see each other again. 

Natasha Romanoff was his next kiss. She teased him relentlessly about it. It was sloppy and unpracticed and very weird considering he thought of the former assassin as a sister. Then, it was Peggy’s great niece Sharon.

But nothing compared to the way you kissed him. You kissed Steve like it was the only thing keeping you alive. You hadn’t been together long, just two months but it was more than enough time for him to fall utterly in love with you. You taught him how to love, how to ask for affection and attention.

But mainly, you taught him how to kiss. Quick pecks when you woke up, both of you still half asleep and with morning breath. Affectionate, have a good day kisses when you left for work. ‘I’m glad you’re alive’ kisses when he returned from missions. And finally, his favourite ones; the ‘I need to feel your body against mine right now’, when your tongues tangled, your breath mingled together as you tried to swallow each other whole, but those always ended as quickly as they started.

You were at the compound with him today, Tony needed your help with engineering a new AI system for the jet. “I don’t know when we’ll finish up tonight so how about you come steal me away for lunch today?” Your hands tugged on the labels of his leather jacket, pulling his body closer to your own. Steve smiled wildly as he looked down at you, so utterly enamoured by your presence.

“Now that is the best idea I’ve heard today.” His hands hovered over your wide hips, not yet touching you. He still struggled with PDA, especially when he was so conflicted as to whether he deserved your touch and wanted to throw you down and have his way with you constantly. Your arms moved up his strong chest to wrap around his neck.

Your eyes were hooded, heavy with desire that sent a shiver through him. “Well then Cap, how about you reward me for having such a good idea.” His lips met your with a practiced ease, a warm feeling filling his gut. Your lips felt like coming home, like a safe place where he could just be. He tilted his head, eager to deepen the kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, your grip on him tightening as the air ignited with a white hot passion. “Hey suckerfish! Break it up! I need my assistant to actually be able to breathe without a geriatric man sucking on her face.” Steve groaned as you pulled away to glare at the billionaire. Tony stood several feet away with his arms crossed over his chest like a disappointed father.

“First off Stark, I am not your assistant. Second, I will kiss my insanely hot boyfriend whenever I want as is my right.” Steve chuckled, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before stepping back and giving you a gentle shove towards the lab doors.

You looked at him clearly offended. “I’ll find you for lunch. Try not to kill Tony.” 

“I’ll kill him if I wanna kill him.” You muttered but walked away anyway, the cutest frown on your face. He chuckled and turned as the doors slid closed behind you, and came face to face with a smug looking Bucky and a disgusted Sam.

“You two are nasty. Why don’t you just fuck at home before work like normal people.” Steve’s face went beat red at Sam’s comment. Bucky guffawed, shoving him with his shoulder.

“Don’t you know they haven’t done the deed yet. Apparently, they’re ‘taking it slow’. Which is just code for Steve has a girlfriend way out of his league and he doesn’t know how to handle it.” 

“Hey!” He objected. “That is our business, not yours. Besides, how do you know we haven’t.” Bucky rolled his eyes at his best friend’s childish retort.

He clapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder. “Oh you poor dumb man, it is incredibly obvious.” Sam joined him on his other side, taking his other shoulder.

“We have so much to teach you.” They guided him away from the lab, intending on educating their lost friend. 

——————

Steve felt like he was in sex ed again, except this was so much worse. They were in one of the many conference rooms on the compound, a white board had been dragged in from a storage room and was now covered in crude drawings that were borderline lewd.

“Now that we have the basics down, you need to understand the nuances of women’s hints.” Sam started but Steve sighed, resting his head in his hands.

“She would have told me if she wanted to have… sex. And she hasn’t so I haven’t gone any further than kissing.” Both men groaned in aggravation. They had been at this for an hour now, trying to get it into Steve’s head that you just wanted to get laid but he wasn’t listening.

“All right, look. What does she do every time you kiss?” The office chair creaked as Steve leaned back in it. His hand scrubbed down his jaw, running over the smooth skin.

“She always pulls me closer to her like she doesn’t want me running away and then puts her arms around my neck.” Bucky nodded thoughtfully, a slightly proud glint in his grey eyes.

“Just as I thought.” Sam muttered, taking a seat right in front of the Captain. “When a woman or whoever does that with the person they are kissing, it’s a signal for the other person to touch them.” Steve’s head tilted questioningly.

“But I do touch her.” 

“Yes but how?” Bucky picked up where Sam left off. “Just her hips?” Steve gave a curt nod. “Ok, next time she kisses you, hold her by the small of her back, or even better, one hand at the base of her neck and the other on her ass. Just trust me.” He patted Steve’s back and walked out of the room like he had just told him the meaning of like.

Sam scoffed but followed him out, yelling down the hall about how much of a drama queen he was being. Bucky retorted but Steve was too lost in his thoughts to consciously hear what they were saying to each other. Maybe he should try it.

——————

As usual with your ‘lunch breaks’ with Steve, he had dragged you into an empty office to make out for a while before you both had to get back to work. And as usual, your arms were around his neck, fingers buried in his short blonde hair as he lightly gripped your hips.

You could live in Steve’s lips. They were always so soft, like he was constantly using chapstick. He tasted like coffee and jam pastries. You let him guide your chin upwards so he could kiss along your soft jaw. But then, he did something new.

His hands moved slowly to the base of your spine, his warm touch making goosebumps erupt all over your body. You moaned quietly into the still air of the office, the sound barely covered by the hum of the air conditioner. 

Apparently the noises you were making gave him an ego boost because suddenly he was holding the back of your neck tightly, keeping your head still as he took what he wanted from you. “Steve!” You gasped and felt him smirk against the skin of your throat. His other hand was placed firmly on your plump ass, something he never dared to try.

Your body thrummed with an arousal you had never felt before. This was an entirely new Steve and you were loving it. “What’s gotten into you, Stevie?” You asked breathlessly. His head lifted from where he had been nibbling on your collarbone, his blue eyes black with desire.

“I learned how to take a hint.” Safe to say that lunch went well into the night.

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lovers to exes to lovers, smut, breeding kink, name calling, possessive behavior, and more yk.

Loving Gojo Satoru had always come with its challenges. He was a Jujutsu Sorcerer, an unstoppable force, and his unwavering devotion to his duty often left you feeling like an afterthought. Lately, however, something had shifted, and the cracks in your relationship had grown wider. His once frequent messages had become rare, and the days between your meetings felt like an eternity– It was as though Gojo had become a ghost, lost in the relentless warfare against the curses that plagued the world.

"Gojo, we need to talk," you started, your tone dripping with resentment.

He raised an eyebrow– the use of his last name instead of his name or any nicknames making the air thickening with tension. "Alright, what's eating you up babycakes?" His teasing attitude never leaves him, someway always making you feel comforted by it.

You took a deep breath, struggling to keep your emotions in check. "I can't do this, Gojo. I can't be in a relationship where I'm constantly fighting for your attention, where I feel like I'm not enough." 

"What do you mean by that?" He scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "I have responsibilities, you know that."  He couldn’t believe you’re being serious, you always knew how important work is for him in these moments. "Come on, it's not that big of a deal."

Your anger flared, and your voice rose. "Not that big of a deal? It's been weeks since we had a decent conversation, and I haven't seen you in ages! Do you even care about us anymore?"

He crossed his arms, frustration etching his features. "You're overreacting, as usual. I'm doing my job, protecting people from curses. It's not personal."

You clenched your fists, feeling like you were about to explode. "It is personal, Gojo- We- Shit.. Our relationship is personal, and you're treating it like it's nothing! I can't do this anymore."

The tension hung heavily in the air as Gojo stared at you, his expression a mixture of frustration and disbelief. The love that once united you now felt like a distant memory, replaced by the searing anger of a relationship on the brink of collapse.

Gojo's expression hardened, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering dangerously. "You don't understand the dangers I face every day, the lives at stake. You're being selfish, demanding my attention when I have more important things to worry about."

Your anger flared, and you stepped forward to meet him. "Selfish? You're the one who's being selfish, Gojo! You're using your duty as an excuse to push me away, to avoid dealing with our problems."

He clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes blazing. "Maybe you're right, maybe we should just end this."

Weeks turned into months, and life without Gojo Satoru had become a strangely bittersweet existence. The initial days were a whirlwind of emotions, a mixture of relief and sorrow. You no longer felt the weight of his absence, but the void he left behind was undeniable.

At first, you struggled with the solitude, the quiet nights where his laughter used to fill the space, and the empty side of the bed that seemed to taunt you with memories. It was as if you had lost a part of yourself, and the healing process felt agonizingly slow. You tried meeting new people, but everything fell into broken pieces.

Shoko decided to invite you to a party to close those wounds, never expecting they’ll be fixed up in another way.  The second you lay eyes on him your heart sinks. His bright blue eyes behind those small black glasses forming little crescents, his pouty lips curled up in an amused smile, his moles sitting on the side of his face. After that long, you would have thought that you had forgotten such details about him but you didn’t.

His smile faded when he noticed how long you stared. You locked eyes with him and somehow it felt different… Somehow you felt like you were going to be alright… Somehow you felt at home…

"You want something to drink?"

The sudden voice of your best friend woke you up from the staring fight between the handsome guy seated at the couch and your broken heart coming alive again. "Uh- Wha?- Yeah… Vodka is okay." Everything felt unreal, like it was a dream.

Shoko came back but couldn’t find you anywhere to be found. You thought that it would have been awkward that you wouldn’t know what to say but… The truth was that you didn’t need to say anything. You already spent hours speaking already. It was like you already said all the words in the world. And no words could ever make it right anyway. What was done was done and reality can’t be sugar coated anymore.

"I know you would come back for more baby-"

"No-" you lifted your hand to stop him. "Don’t. All I know is if I walk out that door again, I would be coming back for more again and again… So let this be the last time."  But before you can open your mouth to say anything he crashes his trembling lips on yours. Trying so hard not to cry too. But the truth is that he missed you just as much.

You found yourself at his bed again.. at his mercy again. "I’m so sorry babycakes, please, let me show you how much you mean to be." When he pulls away to look at you, his eyes translate a thousand emotions. Guilt, sadness, remorse and maybe, just maybe, even love. Or maybe you only want to see that in his eyes.

This was against his life plans, against his priorities. But Gojo himself just knew that he wanted you. And that he didn’t want to let you go ever again, especially not to another guy. It was then when he realized that letting you go was probably the biggest mistake he had made in his young life so far. He realized you were his more important prioritie, he would kill the higher-ups if he needed to fuck- the entire world if you asked him too, all to have you in his arms again.

His hands vanished under your shirt, making their way up with the light fabric between his fingers, then taking it off entirely. You wouldn’t ask anything anymore. Even if this was only a one time thing, if it made you that happy only for a few moments after sorrowful past weeks, then you were willing to take everything that came after.

"I missed… this… so much…" he murmured against our skin when he kissed down to your cleavage.

Taking off your bra with one fluid motion, Gojo wanted to work on your breasts when he suddenly stopped.

You got scared that he’d interrupt everything he had just begun and just walk out of the door, but the thought was pushed aside quickly when he laid his mouth on your left nipple, cupping it with his wet lips.

"You had another man kiss your body?..." Gojo suddenly asked, pulling on your sensitive tip with his teeth.

"Ah!” you yelped. "Wha—" What is he talking about?

"Apparently no. Good."

He grinned before he left butterfly kisses on the breast he had just bruised like he wanted to apologize, making you shiver in pleasure. Rubbing his thumb around the right peak, he was grinding against your hips. You quickly got wet all over before he suddenly grabbed your other breast tightly, crushing his lips onto it like he had just discovered something he had never seen before.

"Gojo–!" You squealed. 

It wasn’t painful at all for you, it was only surprising. But he just smirked against your skin, moving his tongue around your nipple, sucking and licking on it.

"Who am I?" he suddenly asked, bringing his head back up to your face again.

"What?" you breathed.

"What’s my name?"

"Sa…toru…?" It was more of a question than a confident answer.

"Yes, and I am the one who is doing this to you. The only one. Don’t you dare to forget it."

" ‘Toru, what are you…?!"

He unbuttoned your pants, removing them along with your panties before undressing himself entirely and tossing all clothes aside. Gojo  then pressed his length against your entrance as he laid himself back on top of you, sliding his hard-on up and down your folds. A grin appeared on his face as he felt you dripping wet from his movements.

"I’m not even in you yet," he teased.

"Shut up."

He played with streaks of your hair, making sure every inch of your face was touched by his lips before he went down to your neck, his hips still rocking with yours as quiet moans fell from between your lips, but he was reluctant to fill you all up.

"God… I missed this pussy s’much"

But Gojo’s whining was cut off when he felt the sudden change of position– by the feeling of wetness and tightness around his length. You sunk down on him, slowly adjusting to his girth after such a long time. He held onto your hips with both hands, grabbing them tightly as you began to rock your hips back and forth, your upper body following wavy movements.

Gojo had almost forgotten how hot sex with you had always been during your time apart in the past weeks. He had almost forgotten how much pleasure you gave him just by looking at you, and above all, he had almost forgotten how beautiful you were. And he didn’t mean it in the content of sex only.

Why had his eyes just opened now? Why hadn’t he seen earlier what was right in front of him the whole time? He didn’t need anyone else. No matter how many girls he fucked, he would always only want and need you.

You leaned back, bringing yourself up just to slide down on him again and again while Gojo simultaneously thrusted upwards into you, but not with his full strength yet, and you knew it. He was still teasing you.

You cried out his name, desperately bouncing up and down on him, searching for the pleasure which was slowly turning you impatient.

"Kiss me now," he demanded.

When you didn’t make a move to, he stood his knees up, letting you fall on top of him with a little squeal. Chest on chest, body on body, he made sure that you wouldn’t withdraw again.

He grabbed the back of your head and crushed his lips back onto yours after having pulled you down to him. While you were occupied with kissing, Gojo brought his hips up with a hard thrust, causing you to gasp against his lips, and he smiled into the next kiss.

With another strong thrust which filled you up to the brim, he knocked the air out of your lungs and your face landed on his right shoulder, desperately breathing for air. He did it several times more, and every time, your voice would get a little higher and your breathing a little faster.

Your mouth was formed to a silent scream as you dug your nails into his skin when the overwhelming feeling shot through your body. You were soaking and pressed your opened mouth on Gojo’s shoulder, keeping your eyes shut when the pleasurable spasms took control of your body.

Gojo was holding you tightly during your climax, your walls tightening around him and nearly pushing him out of you. His arms rested on your back, giving you a reassuring feeling while he kissed your temple, your head still dizzy.

Gojo smiled at you and rolled on top without pulling out. Well, it was his turn now.

His length plunges inside your sopping center and his warmth pulls a small gasp from your lips. Finally reunited at last. 

He seizes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. Both of your body match up a coordinated and pleasurable rythme. His rough and hungry hands convey how much he missed you and even after all this time, he still knows you by heart… Of course he does… and you do too because the truth is that… You and him… You could never forget each other. Forever damned to be together, forever cursed to be apart.

Your hands roughly pull on his hair as he thrusts up inside you, making you moan his name in a shaky whisper. He whimpers into the deep and messy kiss. Your hands run on his warm skin, desperate to find under your finger the soft sensation you used to know.

"Fuck baby you’re so tight" he moans "You’re gonna make me cum" He says pushing his hip up fucking you back while you both sync up, fucking each other and at a beatiful matching pace.

"Say you love me" you plead, desperately wanting to believe him.

"I love you. I love you y/n" his hoarse voice whistles in your ear.

"I love you too"

You feel him let go, huge amounts of thick cum rush inside of you, filling you up to the brink, reaching the deepest part of you, doubting how you’re not going to get pregnant to the amount of his seed feeling you up.

You throw your head back, toes curled up and eyes rolled back as you bite hard on your bottom lip, fully enjoying the delicious full sensation spreading to your body as your heat uncontrollable twitches in a powerful orgasm. 

"I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ll make sure you never leave my side again, i’ll make youre I never leave yours."

[frvnkcastles]

May I have something where it dort of explores past sh? Where the reader is cutting mango or avocado I the palm of her hand and cuts through the shin into her hand and she just stands there for ages just staring as she's bleeding weighing up how much she can get away with on accident without frank bringing in Matt the Human Lie Detector, and she goes in for a second swipe when frank comes back from the shower and she tries playing it off like she just cut her hand and hea right up in there wanting to help but he notices the partal deeper in the top end so its been done over again? Right over the crease over her palm fluff and comfort please?

THE WAY I HELD YOUR HAND ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You give in to the urges and Frank helps you with the aftermath.

Warnings: SELF-HARM, hurt/comfort, feminine nicknames, language

Word count: 1.2k

Author’s note: This is a heavy one, so read with caution (or skip entirely if you feel like it might be too much!) I’m sending you so much love anon, I know from experience what a struggle it can be to stay sober but I believe in you! Stay strong, you deserve to heal <3

With Frank’s support, you had managed to abstain from harming yourself for a while now. He gave all the credit to you — he was just along for the ride, and you were the one who did all the work. Nevertheless, he had been a massive comfort, always distracting you when you felt the urge and encouraging you to try again if you fell back into the cycle. You wanted to get rid of the habit of hurting yourself, anyway, but he gave you extra motivation to do it, as you really wanted to prove to him that you could do it and make him proud in the process. Of course, he was proud of you no matter what, but whatever it took to give you the boost you needed, he was okay with.

So, with him constantly by your side, you started to unlearn the knee-jerk reaction of hurting yourself and grow out of it. It had been a long while since you had succumbed to the compulsion, and you didn’t think you would lose yourself to it anytime soon.

That was why you were surprised yourself with how quickly you changed your mind. It had been a long, tiring day and maybe that explained your struggle to slice through the mango you had grabbed in the need of a snack — either way, the knife slipped and in the blink of an eye, you had cut your palm open. Blood began seeping out and you froze on the spot, unable to move or react in any way.

You stood there, staring at the wound that painted your skin redder by the second. You dropped the mango on the kitchen counter and swallowed hard, your thoughts laser-focused on what had been an accident but suddenly felt so fateful. Instead of trying to stifle the bleeding, your first instinct was to watch it dribble down your wrist and wonder how long you could drag this out. You were thrown right back into that old state of mind where you let the pain linger, where it felt like you were punishing yourself, and deservedly so.

You knew Frank would worry. And you also knew that he wouldn’t buy any flimsy stories about it being an accident — which it was, at first, but before you fully even processed what you were doing, you were swiping the knife across your skin once more. All those old feelings came rushing back, causing you to lose track of your surroundings. You couldn’t focus on anything else except the mixture of relief and regret pounding at your head and heart, and you let the moment go on for longer than you should have.

”Sweetheart, what happened?” Frank’s worried voice broke through your trance, his large hand coming to cradle yours with his eyes wide and alert. You hadn’t noticed him getting out of the shower, and immediately, you felt embarrassed about being caught, but you couldn’t get a single word out. ”Darlin’, you’re bleedin’. Shit”, he went on, his usually calm voice trembling with panic. You didn’t blame him, there was a lot of blood dripping onto the counters, after all.

”It—it was an accident”, you stammered out, shaking off your daze as you watched Frank grab the kitchen towel and wrap it around your hand to apply pressure and stop the bleeding.

”Gotta be more careful, sweetheart. This ain’t just a small cut”, he acknowledged with a heavy heart, his protectiveness kicking in as he kept squeezing the towel against your palm. The burning pain made you grimace, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in, and you felt horrible guilt blossom in your chest as you realized you had undone all your progress within moments.

You fell into silence, fearing how Frank would react if you admitted you had deliberately hurt yourself, but he figured it out even without your admission. He gently removed the towel after a couple of minutes of pressure, and above the bigger cut, he could see the second one you had made on impulse. He frowned, inspecting your hand before looking up at you, only to instantly pick up on your troubled expression.

”Baby, I don’t think this was an accident”, he probed gently, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable than you already were, but he also couldn’t leave it unmentioned. His heart raced in his chest, concern for you coursing through his veins as he watched you look away from him. ”Hey, hey, hey. Talk to me, sweet girl, what’s goin’ on? You haven’t been’ doin’ this for a while now. Did somethin’ happen?” he went on, tilting his head to catch your stare but you were too ashamed to face him.

”It really was an accident at first. But then I… I just got reminded of what it was like and I couldn’t control the urge and—and I just…”, you rambled, not even entirely sure what had come over you, what would be good enough justification. A tear slipped from your eye and you sniffled, wishing you could undo what you had done, but at the same time feeling like you deserved further pain for your mistake.

Nodding in understanding, Frank reached with one hand to wipe your cheeks while supporting your palm in the other. ”Alright, sweetheart. I’m real sorry I wasn’t here to help you through it. But I’m here now and I’mma make sure we get this all cleaned up and we can keep talkin’ about it, yeah?” he promised, not a hint of judgment in his voice as he calmly reassured you.

”I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did it. I was doing so well”, you spoke shakily, so upset that you would have to start all over again. But Frank didn’t see it that way.

”Oh, baby, you’re still doin’ well. It’s a setback, but it ain’t the end of everything you worked so hard for. Givin’ in once doesn’t mean you’re a lost cause. You can always stop again. You’re incredibly strong, hear me?” he insisted, having complete faith in you, and it soothed your thumping heart a little to hear it from him.

”I feel like I let you down”, you confessed quietly, finally looking him in the eye, and his heart ached at your words. He understood that he played a big part in your recovery, but he hadn’t realized just how much you valued his opinion and support.

”You could never. Never, got that? I’m always in awe of you, sweet darlin’, and nothin’ will ever change that. I can’t even imagine how tough it gotta be to fight the urge but you do it, anyway. That’s fuckin’ amazing”, Frank swore, meaning every word. He cupped your face with his free hand and leaned in to kiss your forehead, staying connected to you for a moment before pulling back and locking eyes with you.

”I love you, yeah? I know you can do this”, he added, and with a careful nod, you promised to at least try. He gave you the smallest of smiles, almost impossible to even notice, but you knew just how much care and affection it contained for you.

”Thanks, Frankie”, you returned the smile, warming his heart.

”There’s my girl”, he praised before turning back to your hand. ”Think we gotta pay a visit to the emergency room, sweetheart. Might need stitches”, he declared, and sighing, you supposed he was right.

But with him by your side, it would be okay, and you would bravely fight the urge next time it would dawn on you.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔖𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔰s

Mike schmidt x gn reader

Summary: Mike is determined to propose to the love of his life, but his attempts are constantly interrupted by nerves and unforeseen events. His younger sister Abby discovers his intentions and convinces him in a plan to make his proposal unforgettable.

Warnings: gender neutral pronouns for the reader so everyone can read. Marriage proposal. Abby acting like every little sibling would. Super fluff. Make-out session.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Words count: almost 4000

Mike sat alone in the slimby lit break room of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, moving from one hand to the other the small, worn out box in his hand. He flicked it open and gazed at the cheap simple ring inside. It wasn't much, but it was all he could afford.

The ring's silver band reflected the harsh fluorescent lights, and Mike couldn't help but feel a pang of inadequacy. Could you truly want to marry someone like him, with a life as complicated and broken as his?

His mind raced filled with doubts and fears. The tragedies of his past, the constant struggle to make ends meet. The responsibility of taking care of Abby weighed heavily on him.

How could he ask you to share in his burdens as your own?

He sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. Every time he thought he had mustered the courage, those nagging thoughts pulled him back down.

He thought about Garret, his little brother, who has been taken purely because of his mistakes. Mike had failed Garret, and he couldn't shake the fear that he would fail you too.

The sound of heavy and clunky footsteps echoed from the arcade, a stark contrast to the turmoil in his heart. He closed the box with a snap, shoving it back into his pocket. Maybe it was foolish, maybe you deserve someone better, someone who could give you more than just a cheap ring and a troubled life.

Hours passed, and soon Mike found himself back home. He slipped inside the bed where you were sleeping peacefully, observing how you would wake up instantly every time.

The mattress creaked under his weight.

The lines of fatigue etched on your face softened, and he marveled at the delicate curve of your cheekbone.

Your brows furrow, creating deep lines across your forehead. The corners of your mouth pull downward, forming a slight grimace and your nose wrinkled as if reacting to an unpleasant sensation. All this while your eyelids remain shut, shielding your eyes from the morning light.

“Hey,” You murmured, your voice a raspy whisper. “You’re back.”

“Missed you,” he confessed, his fingers brushing against your hips.

You shifted closer towards him, snuggling with him and putting your face on his neck. The stubble on his jaw scratched against your skin, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Just a minute and I’ll take Abby to school” You mumbled against his skin, the gesture and your closeness deleting all the negative thoughts that haunted him the whole night.

“Take all the time that you need” he mumbled, your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment. The scent of your hair, the gentle rise and fall of your chest: it all felt like a lifeline.

‘Today,’ he thought as he was falling asleep with the warmth you provided to his body and heart.

‘Today, I’ll do it.’

ꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄ

Mike had been on edge all day, the weight of his thoughts pressing heavily on him. You noticed the slight tremor in his hands and the distant look in his eyes as he tried to make conversation. It wasn't like him to be this distracted, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Despite his tough exterior, you knew Mike well enough to see the vulnerability hidden underneath.

That evening, you both found a rare moment of quiet in the living room. Mike had been fiddling with something in his pocket. The air was thick with unspoken words, and your curiosity grew with each passing second.

Mike took a deep breath and walked over to where you were sitting, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Hey," Mike finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can we talk?"

"Of course," you replied, your concern deepening as you saw the anxiety etched on his face.

You tried to catch his eye, but he wouldn't meet your gaze. Instead, he stared at the floor.

"Mike, what's wrong?" you asked softly leaning closer. You reached out, touching his arm lightly.

His eyes darted around, avoiding your gaze.

"I've been thinking a lot about us. About our future." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "You know, my life has been one hell of a ride. It's been tough, messy, and full of mistakes. I never imagined it would turn out like this, taking care of Abby on my own, working night shifts just to keep us afloat. But then you came into my life."

He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting yours briefly before looking away.

"I know I don't have much to offer. But...I can't imagine my future without you.”

Mike's voice wavered as he tried to continue, but his anxiety got the best of him.

He’d spent years building walls, keeping people at arm’s length. You have chipped away at those walls, brick by brick, until there was nothing left but vulnerability. And now, he feared losing it all.

He reached into his pocket, taking hold of the small box. His hands trembled, and he found himself unable to continue. The weight of his fears and insecurities bore down on him, making it impossible to speak. He felt the familiar grip of panic tightening around his chest. His breath quickened, and he stared at the floor, defeated. The memories of his past failures, especially with Garret, loomed large in his mind. He felt like he was trapped in a cycle of disappointment, unable to break free.

As Mike sat there, unable to find the words, a flood of memories washed over him. He recalled the first time he met you, the way your smile had lit up the room. He remembered the late night conversations where you both shared your dreams and fears, the quiet moments of comfort you provided when he felt like the world was falling apart. He thought about the times you had been there for Abby, treating her with kindness and love, making her laugh when she was down

He remembered the look in your eyes when you told him you believed in him, that you saw the good in him even when he couldn't see it himself. Those memories were a lifeline, pulling him out of the depths of his despair. They reminded him of the strength and resilience he had found through your support.

Just as he seemed completely overwhelmed. Abby burst into the room, her timing impeccable as always, "Hey, can I get some new papers to draw on?" she asked, her eyes wide and innocent

You looked at Mike, secing the desperation in his eves. "I'll go get them," you said softly.

As you left the room, Mike slumped back into the couch, the open box now in his hand as he stared up at the ceiling. In a swift motion, Abby snatched the box and dashed away from him.

"Abby!" Mike shouted, scrambling to his feet. He chased her through the hallway, his heart pounding not just from the chase but from the fear of losing the ring.

"Abby come on, give it back!" Mike pleaded as he cornered her in her room, trying to keep his voice calm.

Abby giggled, holding the box behind her back. "Why do you want it so bad?"

Mike knelt down to her level, his eyes softening. "It's important. Really important. It's for-" He paused, unsure of how much to reveal.

Abby's expression changed, curiosity turning to concern. "YOU WANNA MARRY-" her scream of pure joy was interrupted by Mike’s hand on her mouth. He shushed her after taking a quick glance in your direction. Mike nodded, swallowing hard "Yes, please don’t say a word."

Abby's face lit up with excitement, she nodded eagerly and Mike decided to trust his little sister and softly moved his head away. "Really? We’ll be a family now!"

Mike's heart ached at her words. He hugged her tightly drawing strength from her innocent faith in him.

Abby pulled back and gave him a stern look. "I want to help you, pleaseeee! I want to see too!" Mike laughed, a genuine, relieved laugh that seemed to lift some of the weight off his shoulders, "Deal. Tomorrow morning"

☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎

The house was draped in the peaceful silence of the night, the kind that wraps around you like a comforting blanket. You were already tucked into bed, a worn novel in your hands, its pages illuminated by the soft, amber light of the bedside lamp. The quiet creaking of the old house was the only sound until you heard the faint, muffled whispers from down the hall.

Mike was putting Abby to bed, and their voices floated through the hallway, indistinct but filled with a warmth that made you smile. You turned your head slightly, straining to catch snippets of their conversation. You couldn't make out the words, but the gentle tones of their exchange and the occasional giggles of Abby made your heart swell with affection for both of them.

As you lay there, your eyes drifted upwards to the ceiling. The torn poster of Nebraska, which Mike had tried to remove some time ago, caught your attention. Its ragged edges and the remnants of adhesive clinging to the plaster served as a poignant reminder of the past struggles and unresolved pain he carried with him.

This evening they are talking much more than usual, their voices reduced to a barely perceptible murmur.

You strained your ears, trying to catch every single word. You squint your eyes, as if you could trade your sight for superhuman hearing ability. Every muscle in your body was tense in the effort to grasp those whispered secrets.

You sighed softly, contemplating whether to get up and use the excuse of needing the bathroom to sneak a peek at their conversation.

You debated the idea, curiosity gnawing at you, but ultimately, the warmth of the bed and the soothing comfort of the blankets won out.

Laziness, or perhaps a desire to give them their privacy, kept you nestled where you were. You turned back to your book, though your mind was no longer on the story.

The door creaked open, and Mike stepped into the room, his expression softening as he saw you lying there. He closed the door quietly, moving with the careful, deliberate grace of someone who had long since learned to tread lightly in the presence of those he loved. He crossed the room and slipped under the covers beside you.

Without a word, he reached out and gently pulled you closer by the waist, his strong arms encircling you and causing you to abandon your book. Your head came to rest on his pillow, just inches away from his face.

Mike's gaze was intense, almost as if he were trying to memorize every detail of your face. His eyes roamed over your features, taking in the curve of your lips, the line of your jaw, the way your hair frames your face. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

"Is everything okay, Mike?" you asked softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He nodded, but his gaze never wavered. The silence between you was charged with unspoken words and emotions.

You reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering on his skin. "You know you can talk to me about anything," you murmured.

Mike simply nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours. And then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you. It started gently, almost tentatively, but quickly deepened into something more fervent and passionate. His hand found its way into your hair, pulling you even closer as his lips moved against yours with a desperate intensity.

Time seemed to blur as you lost yourself in the sensation of his kiss. The world outside your bedroom ceased to exist and all that mattered was the feel of his body against yours, the warmth of his touch, the way his kiss spoke volumes where words failed him. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his other hand roamed over your back, holding you tightly as if he were afraid to let go.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, and you could feel your resolve melting away under the onslaught of his affection. His kiss was filled with everything he couldn't say-his fears, his hopes, his unwavering love for you. It was a silent promise, a plead for a future together that he desperately wanted but was afraid to believe he deserved.

Eventually, the need for air forced you to break apart, but Mike's hold on you never loosened. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in soft, ragged gasps. His eyes were closed, as if he were savoring the moment, committing every detail to memory.

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him again if everything was alright, but the look on his face stopped you. His expression was one of pure contentment, his features relaxed in a way you rarely saw.

As exhaustion finally caught up with you both, you snuggled closer into his embrace, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body and the protective circle of his arms around you lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

Mike lay awake for a while longer, watching you sleep, his mind filled with thoughts of the life you could have together. He thought about the ring hidden in his pocket and the promise it held.

‘Tomorrow,’ he thought.

‘Tomorrow, I’ll do it.’

☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎☭︎

You wake up to the faint sound of whispering drifting in from the kitchen. Groggy, you blink against the morning light filtering through the curtains. The whispers grow a little louder interspersed with occasional giggles, you strain to make out the words.

“...what if they choke on it?” Abby’s voice, barely suppressed by her laughter, reaches your ears.

“Shh, keep your voice down” Mike’s urgent whisper follows. You hear the clink of plates being set on the table.

Curiosity gets the better of you. You slide out of bed and quietly pad towards the kitchen, peeking around the corner. There, you see Mike and Abby huddled together, their heads bent in front of the pots.

Abby is already dressed, an unusual sight this early in the morning. Today she has no school. You can’t help but smile at the sibling duo.

They seem to be plotting something.

As you step into the room, they both straighten up abruptly, their faces a picture of innocence.

“Good morning!” Abby chirps, her tone overly cheerful. She flashes you a broad smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mike, caught mid-turn at the stove, gives you a nervous grin. “Morning,” he says, his voice slightly strained. There’s an edge to his movements, as if he’s trying too hard to appear casual.

You raise an eyebrow, taking in the scene. “What’s going on here? Abby, you’re up early.”

Abby just giggles, glancing at Mike, who is now meticulously flipping pancakes, his back rigid with tension. You can’t shake the feeling that something is definitely up. The more you observe their behavior, the more suspicious you become. Why are they acting so strangely?

“Nothing, just thought I’d help Mike with breakfast” Abby says, her voice a tad too innocent. You sit down at the table, still watching them closely. “Okay,” you say slowly, “this is a nice change of pace.”

Mike brings over a plate stacked with pancakes and sets it in front of you. “Dig in,” he says, his voice wavering slightly. He sits down, but you notice he barely touches his own plate, his eyes darting between you and Abby.

You cut into the fluffy pancake, your suspicion mounting. Mike’s anxiety is almost palpable now, and Abby’s wide-eyed gaze is fixed on you, barely blinking as she watches you chew.

They both seem way too invested in your breakfast experience.

“So, did you two plan this breakfast together?” you ask, trying to sound casual while you scrutinize their reactions. Abby nods enthusiastically “Yep! We thought it would be a nice surprise for you.”

“That’s sweet,” you say taking another bite. “It’s just... you both are acting a bit strange.”

Mike looks down at his plate awkwardly “We’re just... happy to have breakfast together.”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his face and the untouched food in his plate. “Mike, you’re not eating.”

“I’m just not that hungry,” he says quickly his eyes flicking nervously to Abby.

“Uh-huh,” you say eyeing him suspiciously “And Abby you’re unusually quiet.”

Abby stifles a giggle, her eyes darting to Mike. “I’m just excited! Aren’t you excited, Mike?”

Mike forces a smile. “Yeah, very excited.”

You can’t help but laugh inwardly at their antics. What on earth are they up to? Your mind begins to wander.

Did they put something in the food?

They didn’t poisoned your pancake...right??

It’s something stupid to think about but Mike’s tensed behavior and Abby’s incessant staring were way too strange for your taste. You navigated inside your thoughts, searching for any possible reason as to why the Schmidt siblings would possible want you dead.

Why are you even thinking about this option? It’s been minutes since your first bite. If your first hypothesis was correct, right now you would already be in a garbage bag ready to be hidden. You feel perfectly fine.

For now.

Your thoughts get increasingly outlandish. Maybe it’s a prank. Maybe they saw a funny video online about tricking someone with breakfast and decided to try it. You almost chuckle out loud at the absurdity of it all.

Mike keeps stealing glances at you while you eat, his face a mixture of hope and anxiety. Abby, on the other hand, is trying her best to maintain a straight face but failing miserably. Every time you look at her, she bursts into a fit of giggles.

“Alright, what’s going on?” you finally ask, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

Mike’s eyes widen slightly. “Nothing’s going on.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really? Because it seems like you’re both hiding something.”

Abby bites her lip, trying to suppress another giggle. “We’re not hiding anything. Just enjoy your pancakes.”

You take another bite, savoring the warm, fluffy texture and delicious taste, all the while wondering what on earth they could be hiding.

Then, you bite down on something hard. The yelp of surprise was muffled by your mouth closed but both Mike and Abby turned their head at 90 degrees to stare again at you. One had a pale face while the other was grinning from ear to ear.

Your heart skips a beat. You hide your mouth with one of your hands to discreetly remove the foreign object from your mouth with the other, your fingers trembling slightly.

It’s a ring. A simple, elegant ring.

Wait, what?

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Mike is out of his chair and kneeling beside you, his face a mix of terror and hope. “Will you marry me?” he blurts out, his voice cracking with emotion.

Abby beams at you, her excitement barely contained. She clasps her hands together, her eyes shining with delight as she watches the scene unfold.

You stare at Mike, your heart pounding, the room around you blurring as tears well up in your eyes. The realization of his nervousness, his stolen glances, and Abby’s strange behavior all click into place.

Mike reaches for your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “I know it’s been tough, and I haven’t always been the best at showing it, but I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

His vulnerability, usually hidden beneath a tough exterior, is laid bare before you. You can see the fear in his eyes, the fear of rejection, but also the unwavering determination to make you happy.

Abby, unable to contain herself any longer, jumps up from her seat and hugs you both. “Say yes! Say yes!” she chants, her joy infectious.

You laugh through your tears, overwhelmed by the love and the absurdity of the moment. “Yes,” you say, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”

The room erupts in cheers. Abby bouncing around with glee, and Mike pulling you into a tight embrace. The weight of the world lifts off his shoulders as he kisses you, his relief and happiness evident.

As you sit back down, the ring now securely on your finger, Mike finally relaxes, and the three of you share the rest of the pancakes, laughter and love filling the room. The awkwardness and tension of the morning dissolve into a memory you’ll cherish forever.

You can’t help but chuckle at your earlier thoughts. Poison? Really? You mentally scold yourself for letting your imagination run wild, but you also appreciate how deeply this moment has etched itself into your heart.

Mike, still holding your hand, looks at you with a mixture of relief and adoration. “Sorry for the secrecy. I wanted it to be a surprise, and Abby was adamant about helping.”

Abby nods vigorously “I told him it would be perfect! And it was, right?”

You nod, smiling. “It was perfect. I totally didn’t suspected anything.” Mike chuckles, finally taking a bite of his now cold pancake. “Yeah, I probably should have kept my cool better. I was so nervous”

You squeeze his hand. “It was adorable. And perfect.”

The morning continues with laughter and joy. Mike’s initial anxiety melts away, replaced by a profound sense of contentment. He keeps his hand in yours, occasionally glancing at the ring on your finger with a smile that speaks volumes.

Abby chatters excitedly about the planning, her ideas for the wedding, and how she knew all along that you would say yes. Her enthusiasm is contagious, filling the room with warmth and laughter. Mike listens, his eyes filled with affection and gratitude, his usual stoic demeanor softened by the moment.

The ring on your finger feels both familiar and new, a promise of the future you and Mike will share. The morning, with all its quirks and surprises, will be a story you'll both tell for years to come, a perfect blend of love, laughter, and a touch of mischief, thanks to Abby's enthusiastic participation.

Mike stands up, pulling you into another hug. "I love you," he whispers, his voice steady and sure. "Thank you for saving yes.”

You smile, resting your head against his chest. "I love you too, Mike. Always."

Abby, unable to contain her excitement any longer, joins the hug, wrapping her arms around both of you. "We're going to be the best family ever!" she declares, her voice filled with the certainty only a child can have.

She was so right.

Note: I'll admit, I'm a bit skeptical about this one but I honestly couldn't stop thinking about this idea, so sorry if this was bad :)

[frankenkyle19]

🌼Touched By A Zombie🌼

Request

word count: 878

warnings: a bit of suggestive touching (Kyle doesn’t understand the difference)

Kyle had many different ways he showed his affection. Especially towards you. Grabbing, squeezing, holding and even biting. When he couldn’t find words, his hands told you exactly what they wanted. You. Comfort. He was constantly touching you in one way or another because he needed to feel that security. To know you were right there.

The first day he bit down on your neck you were very very surprised. You were holding his hand, carefully rubbing your thumb across his knuckles when he leaned into you, letting his lips trail across your neck before they bite down. He did bite hard enough to leave a mark, but not too hard that it drew blood. 

It had scared you for a moment before you realized that he was doing it for affection. He had so much love inside of him for you that this was the only way (he thought) to get it out. 

He also always had to have his hands on you. On your waist, around your neck, on your shoulder, even sometimes your bum. Kyle had no ulterior motive for these touches even if some would see them as sexual. Sure, he did enjoy those special times he got to spend with you, but he truly could not tell the difference it made where he put his hands. 

He always liked to hook his thumbs into the loops on your jeans and stay close to you, following like a small child following their mother in a grocery store.

Wherever you were, Kyle was too.

It had been quite hard to teach Kyle boundaries. That sometimes you needed a break. He did learn though, you taught him that when you needed space he could go outside or even play a game on the tablet. 

Kyle always made sure it was known that you were his. He didn’t share you with anyone. If someone looked at you even a bit too long, he was pulling you closer and pressing kisses across the expanse of your shoulders.

He also loves to squeeze your hips and any fat you had there. The more the better in his opinion. He loved having your body to knead in his hands. He literally spends hours just holding you.

You’d been trying to teach him when and where he was allowed to touch you. That sometimes it wasn’t exactly appropriate. He’d whine and huff, mumbling out a complaint. Why couldn’t he touch his girl? 

“Mnghh- h-h-holdddd” he’d groan, hands reaching for you. You’d end up giving up and letting him do as he pleased but over time, he did manage to learn some decency.

Another thing he loved was for you to sit in his lap. He loved holding you and if you were even thinking of sitting down, it better be in his lap. The weight of you against him instantly relaxed him. Like a human shaped weighted blanket. He’d play with your hair as you sat atop his lap, a low hum coming from his chest, which he did when he was very happy.

You did practically everything together. Eat. Sleep. Shower (because Kyle is scared of showers and the water pressure, you found out,) if you’re doing something, Kyle is going to find a way to be included in it. 

While at times he could be so rough, and his fine motor skills struggled, hands a bit rougher than they might normally be. The more used to his new body he got, the better his motor skills got. Soon enough he was playing with your hair and trying to make elaborate hairstyles. (Which turned out quite bad but you wore them anyway because your sweet Kyle had done it)

He also always wanted to wash your hair whenever you two would shower together. Unlike some people, Kyle acted no different around you clothed or nude. You could be stark naked in front of him and he would just smile and hug you. He didn’t mind nor care at all. 

Now one of the things he did that was a bit more risky than the rest of his touches was when he would squeeze your bum or your breasts. They were basically his stress balls. Why were they there if he wasn’t allowed to squeeze them? This was more reserved for when you two are alone, but he always tries to sneak and squeeze your butt when you’re in public. You never have it in you to scold him, his face gets him out of trouble all the time.

Overall, once he is more accustomed to being alive again, he’s perfect. Sometimes he has the occasional outbursts, but he’s so sweet every other second of the day. He was everything you could ever ask for. He thought the same about you. How was he so lucky to end up with you? That’s what went through his foggy brain whenever he laid eyes on you (when does he ever take them off of you to begin with?) His.

His his his. Like a mantra stuck in his head. Yours and no one else’s. And the same went for him. He never ever thought of anyone else the way he thought of you. He loved you more than any words could ever explain.

[sincerely-sofie]

Do you have any particular headcanons about the Ultra Beasts?

Technically every Ultra Beast is an entire species, but I’m going to refer to specific members of each species who have fallen through Ultra Wormholes at one point or another and formed a found family of sorts together.

Novelette the Nihilego

A mad scientist type of individual. Knowledge-hungry and a bit callous in the questions she may ask, but is ultimately kind. She just doesn’t understand many social customs from her home world, let alone the new one she finds herself in.

Physically weak. Prone to hiding behind others when startled— uses people as living shields.

She is OBSESSED with mystery dungeons. Those don’t exist back home, and she’s desperate to figure out how they work.

Glows slightly in the dark. Glows brighter when she blushes.

Basil the Buzzwole

This man is a brick wall of muscle and friendship.

He and Novelette (whom he calls Novi) are very close. He doesn’t understand many of her discoveries or the research that leads to them, but he does his best to be supportive and help her with any experiments. Chemical reactions are a favorite topic of study for them.

Extremely emotive in his body language. He has a hard time reading people who aren’t very expressive physically. Doesn’t matter how much emotion is in your voice— of you’re not striking a pose alongside what you said, he’s gonna struggle to know whether you’re being sarcastic or not.

He makes the best fruit salads. No one knows how. You can follow the same process as he does when making a fruit salad and it won’t taste half as good as one he prepared.

Alabaster the Pheromosa

Despite her cool, unaffected demeanor, she’s extremely caring and a bit of a worry wart.

Where she’s from, pheromosas are the only form of intelligent life because they were the only sentient species that was capable of surviving in the aftermath of a massive explosion of unknown origins which turned the entire landscape into a massive desert filled with a strange energy.

She HATES feeling dirty / seeing dirty objects. Keeping yourself, your belongings, and your loved ones clean was a big deal for survival in her world, and while she understands that it’s not as critical in this new world, she still shows her concern for others by cleaning their things for them and nagging them to wash up before meals.

She frequently confuses pokemon of similar body types for each other.

She can instantly reach 120 miles per hour / 200 kilometers per hour from a dead stop. This results in her practically teleporting up to people at times and scaring the life out of them. She’s constantly reminding herself to walk very slowly and match others’ strides.

Watcher the Xurkitree

Spends a lot of time rooted into the ground for days on end, completely unresponsive. Whenever a storm rolls into the area, she rushes over to gather energy from any subsequent lightning strikes.

Quiet and stoic. Rarely talks about herself or her thoughts and opinions. Spends most of her time silently observing the people around her.

She’s pretty zany once she opens up to others. Make no mistake, she’s still stoic as ever, but she’ll say the most out-there things with deadpan delivery.

Can’t eat food and is confused by how people get energy from unmoving solids. Has a lot of opinions on the ways different types of electricity feel to absorb.

Enjoys swimming and being submerged in water.

Etta the Celesteela

Unlike the other Ultra Beasts, she has no mixed feelings about the thought of returning to her world. She’s getting back there ASAP, and she’s never looking back.

Communicates psychically with others. She was confused when people asked her how far she could communicate with people from. There’s no known limit to this ability.

She also has a lot of similarities with grass-types, getting energy over the course of centuries while buried in soil. She doesn’t spend much time in dirt in this new world, however, because she’s found that sitting in large bodies of water helps her gather energy much more efficiently. She might be able to return home even without an Ultra Wormhole if she spends the next decade in water.

She enjoys Watcher’s company whenever she visits Etta’s lake.

Coda the Kartana

A noble warrior-type who believes strongly in chivalry and intense moral codes.

Boasts about his strength and skill in battle, but is a bit of a coward who refuses to fight without another person on his side and will flee the second he catches a glimpse of fire or moisture.

At one point, Bud folds a piece of paper into a shape vaguely resembling him, and he became her self-assigned sworn protector.

Is affected by Alabaster’s pheromones more than any other ultra beast or pokemon. Thankfully, they’re not too much of a problem unless she’s very angry, which isn’t a common occurrence— but if she’s in an argument with someone and he’s remotely in the same area, he’s going to end up barely conscious and very emotional.

King the Guzzlord

Prickly and irritable, though he’s not intentionally cruel.

Constantly starving. It’s a miserable thing, and causes him a lot of pain. He tries to focus on various intellectual endeavors instead of how hungry he is.

If a field of study exists, he’s researched everything about it that he physically could.

Etta is almost constantly chatting with him telepathically. He really appreciates her company.

Pipo the Poipole

She’d get along great with Celebi if they ever met.

Strongly admires Deoxys.

Is technically capable of evolving, and has been for a very long time, but prefers being a poipole much more to the thought of becoming a naganadel.

Despite how different they are, King is her best friend, and she’s always secretly pestering Novelette and Basil about finding some way to make people feel full so that she can help ease her friend’s misery.

Chorus the Stakataka

Each brick is technically its own being— but they all form a single, unified consciousness that calls himself Chorus.

Absolutely loves music, which apparently doesn’t exist in his world, which is largely silent. He identifies strongly with songs being made up of multiple measures, melodies, and instruments— hence the name he chose for himself after entering this world.

He’s capable of removing individual bricks from his structure and placing them in different locations to observe the area. He’s not capable of remotely accessing the senses of any removed bricks, but gains the memories collected by the bricks when they’re reincorporated into his structure.

Ferryman the Blacephalon

A gadfly-type character who is always prodding people for reactions. Is constantly looking to make Watcher’s stoic demeanor falter.

He has a rather cruel sense of humor, and no topic of joke is off the table for him. Bud dislikes him greatly for this reason.

Gets his energy by feeding off of others’ emotions. The stronger the emotion, the better the fuel, so he likes to scare the life out of people by sneaking up behind them and making his head explode.

Has hidden depths that he refuses to acknowledge due to something unpleasant about his past.

Haven the Deoxys

Though he’s not your typical ultra beast, he has enough similarities with them to be considered an ultra beast native to this world.

An amnesiac who recalls very little from before he crash-landed on earth in a meteorite. He’s fascinated by the world around him— especially auroras, which he claims make noises like someone speaking nonsensical sentences.

Very fond of Bud. Despite his unfamiliarity with the concept of bonds developed past the depth of simple acquaintances, he considers her family. He’d give anything to make her smile.

Enjoys writing. He’s not very good at it (according to him) but he likes creating short story collections especially.

Necrozma the Necrozma

The best grandpa in the world.

Bud the Human

While she’s not an ultra beast, she’s been absorbed into their found family after Deoxys encountered her while she was lost and concluded that, as a creature that isn’t a Pokémon, she obviously must be an ultra beast.

As much as she loves her family in the main TPiaG cast, she finds it very freeing to be in a new group outside of them. Even after returning to live amongst humans in the Future, she makes sure to visit the long-lived ultra beasts she befriended in the Present.

She gets a lot of individual nicknames from the ultra beasts— pretty much every one of them has a unique way to address her.

This girl is collecting adopted parents like they’re trading cards. Someone stop her. She’s too powerful.

[irwinsblender]

inner demons

a/n: i’ve written this over the span of a few weeks bc my mental health has been down the drain recently and i needed an outlet. i wasn’t sure about uploading this, but here it is anyway

also used these pictures of ashton bc that’s how i imagine he’d look when listening to you rant about how you’re feeling

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: your mental health has been getting worse again and ashton is there to try and help you through it

warnings: depression, self harm, reference to suicide - and please, if you find any of these triggering, don’t read this fic

word count: 3k

✩ ✩ ✩

winter was one of the worst times of year for you. specifically, for your mental health. the dreary, rainy and cloudy weather, days becoming dark hours earlier than in the summer was always hard on you.

your mental health was bad already. you’d been suffering with depression for quite a long time now. it first started at school when you couldn’t deal with exams along with certain horrible people in your classes, that seemed to linger for a few years after you graduated.

just when you thought things were getting better, the pandemic hit, causing you to relapse and become worse than before. you didn’t know how to deal with all of the terrible thoughts that were constantly going around your head, including thoughts telling you to hurt yourself.

and you did, you turned to that to help you cope with feeling so exhausted. in the end, it didn’t really help. but you had nothing else to help you.

until you met ashton irwin. your now boyfriend.

you’d never met anyone as caring as him. he always listened to anything you had to say, he was there for you when you needed to rant; most of all, he didn’t leave after you told him about your struggles.

in fact, he empathised with you. telling you about his struggles and ways he tried to get through them. he promised then and there that he would always be there to support you and would never judge you for any of your thoughts or emotions.

you always appreciated ashton, but you found it hard to tell him when you were beginning to struggle more again. you felt pathetic not being able to cope on your own, you felt like a burden in his life every time you had to involve him in your problems.

this was one of those times.

it had been a long day, or at least it felt like it had been. it was raining all day, something you hated. you hadn’t been able to get out of bed, you hadn’t eaten, only had a drink of water which ashton brought to you before he left the house earlier in the day.

you’d been sitting in the bathroom for the past hour with the door locked. you’d told ashton you were going to have a shower, but, you never got that far. ashton would’ve noticed that the noise of the shower never started, but he’s always been respectful to leave you to whatever you need to do.

it was different this time though. it was too quiet. he was sat in the living room, planning on cooking you both a nice dinner. however, you’d been acting different today. you’d been quiet, not as cheerful as usual when he arrived home from being elsewhere.

you were sat on the closed toilet, leaning against the counter as tears fell down your face. deciding if you were going to do what your mind had been telling you to do. you didn’t want to hurt yourself again, but what choice did you have? nothing else helped. it was practically staring you in the face from where you’d placed the sharp object on the counter.

you looked down at your arms, marks from a couple of weeks ago that were starting to heal properly. marks you hadn’t told ashton about. ashton knew you struggled more at this time of year; he’d been busy recently with work, he hadn’t had time to notice things going even more downhill.

while you were contemplating your choices, ashton had been making his way upstairs. he decided that maybe you needed some company with showering. you told him previously that you find it comforting showering together, so that’s what he’d do.

he entered the bedroom, still hearing no movement. he tried to go into the bathroom, met with the door not budging. just the handle twisting. he couldn’t open the door. you’d locked it.

“sweetheart?” he called out, sudden worry washing over him. “you okay in there?”

you’d jumped at the sound of him trying to open the door, you don’t usually lock it, but it was necessary this time. you didn’t answer him, trying to muffle your cries.

“baby? please answer me,” you could hear the frustration and fear in his tone. “i’m here for you, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i’m fine, ash,” you sniffled. “just leave me alone.”

it came out harsher than you meant it to. your emotions playing a part. you never ask him to leave you alone. that only happened when you were in this kind of situation.

“i’m not leaving,” ashton replied. “talk to me, please, i’m here, whatever you need.”

you let out an accidental loud cry, placing your head in your hands as you couldn’t hold back your cries any longer. you were in so much pain it was hard to handle.

ashton’s heart broke hearing the way you were crying. why hadn’t he noticed you weren’t as happy as normal, why hadn’t he noticed your depression taking a toll again. he should’ve noticed.

“can you open the door, baby?” he asked, trying his luck before he’d have to figure something else out.

“no,” you said with a gasp, your crying almost uncontrollable as you moved to pick the object up from the counter.

your shaky hands weren’t helping, causing you to drop it, making a clanging noise as it hit the floor. you knew ashton would’ve heard it, he would’ve put two and two together. you couldn’t pick it up, crying even harder.

ashton was going through his nightstand already, trying to find the outside key for the bathroom door. he was panicking by now, frantically trying to find it, worried when he didn’t come upon it instantly. until, a light caught his eye on the dresser.

the light reflecting on the key, he quickly picked it up, going back to the bathroom door. he slid the key into the lock, twisting it two times until he heard it click.

he pushed it open, causing you to quickly try and turn away, rushing to pull the sleeves of your hoodie down before he could see anything. you wiped your eyes on your sleeves instead, only glancing over to him for a second.

ashton looked to you first, he couldn’t miss the way you pulled at your sleeves, he looked to the ground, seeing the razor there, but it was clean which gave him slight relief.

he moved it out of the way, walking to you slowly, crouching down beside you. he placed one hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth, the other on your waist.

“i’m here, baby, i’m here now,” he tried to reassure. “what do you need?”

you shook your head, you couldn’t even look at him. you felt pathetic, like a disgrace. you couldn’t look your own boyfriend in the eye because you were embarrassed about how badly you were handling things.

ashton saw the expression on your face, it was too familiar. the same a couple of years ago, when you were struggling, when you had been harming yourself. he knew what was going on now.

“it’s okay if you’re not doing okay, love,” he said, cupping your cheek in one of his hands, wiping away your tears.

“i’m fine,” you bluntly responded. “i’m always fine, everything is always just fine.”

your hurt started turning into slight anger. angry with yourself, angry with the way you kept going around in circles with your mental health. you got a little better, and then things always became worse. it’s the same thing over and over and over.

“baby—“

“just leave me alone,” you folded your arms, pushing his hands away from you. not thinking straight with the other thoughts clouding your mind.

“i don’t want you to be alone,” ashton softly replied, trying to keep calm in this situation. “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i’m handling it,” you tried to get a subtle look behind ashton, trying to find where the razor was. if you could just get him to leave—

“angel,” he got your attention. knowing that nickname would stop you from whatever else you’re thinking about. “you know it’s okay if you aren’t doing good, this isn’t something that will instantly go away, there are ups and downs and that’s okay. wherever you’re at now, i’m here to help you through it.”

you cried harder at that. everything was hurting. you were exhausted with life. you didn’t want to keep living like this.

“i’m sorry,” you cried, holding your hands over your face. “i’m so sorry.”

“hey, hey, it’s okay, why are you sorry?” ashton asked, standing himself up as he took your hands in his.

“i— i did it again,” you blubbered. taking a breath to try and control your crying. ashton didn’t know what you were talking about. “i know i said i’d talk to you if i felt that bad again, but i just— i couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”

then it clicked. he knew what you meant. locking yourself in the bathroom, the razor you’d dropped on the floor. you’d been self harming again.

“you don’t have to apologise for that, baby,” he sighed. “it’s not something easy to talk about, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry to me.”

you were quiet after he said that. trying not to keep crying the way you were while also trying to figure out what to say next. his hands were still in yours, not planning on letting go any time soon.

“i thought things were getting better,” you complained honestly. “i was happy travelling with you the last two months, and as soon as we got home everything started crashing down on me.”

“being on tour was a big distraction for you, a new city every night, seeing places you’ve never been before, you didn’t have time to think about anything else,” ashton reminded. “now we’re home, there’s days where we have nothing going on, it gives your mind time to overthink and for those bad thoughts to come back.”

you didn’t say anything after that, ashton could tell it wasn’t helping with you sitting in the bathroom, the razor behind him on the floor. he pulled at your hands softly, urging you to stand with him. thankfully you did, walking with him as he lead you through to the bedroom. he took you over to the bed, only letting go of your hands so he could sit back against the headboard.

“come here, love,” he held one arm out, waiting for you to get comfortable.

you sat down, shuffling over to him. your head resting against his shoulder, his arm around you to keep you close. he pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek, causing you to look up at him.

“i don’t know what to do,” you suddenly spoke. ashton allowing you to get your thoughts out. “this feels never ending, it feels like there’s no way out apart from—“

“baby,” he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. he knew what you were going to say, but he didn’t want to hear it come out of your mouth. “i know it’s hard, and i hate that you’re feeling like this again. you deserve so much happiness and i wish there was more i could do to take your pain away.”

“it hurts, ash,” you started to cry again, tears dropping down your cheeks continuously. “everything hurts so bad.”

he pulled you tighter against his chest, one hand on the back of your head, slowly running through your hair. he pressed soft kisses to your forehead every few moments, trying to let you know how much he loved you and that he was right there with you through this.

as your crying started to calm down, ashton took one of your hands in his, stretching out your arm slightly. you looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“can i see?” he asked.

you weren’t sure at first, but eventually nodded your head. he gently pulled up your sleeve, each mark, scar and any new cuts revealing themselves to him. you sighed seeing the upset look on his face.

“they’re horrible,” you sniffled. tugging your arm away from him. “i’m sorry.”

“they aren’t horrible, baby,” ashton held your hand. he ran his thumb over a couple of old scars, then he lifted your arm up, pressing kisses along the length of it. “they show strength. it shows you’ve been strong enough to fight to stay in this world.”

you didn’t know how he could see it like that. in your own head, it showed how weak you were, how bad you were at coping with life.

“you’re the strongest person i know,” ashton continued, pulling your sleeve back down as he kept your hand in his. “it takes strength to admit you aren’t doing good, so i’m proud of you for telling me.”

“i don’t know what to do, ash,” you slouched further into his grip, cheek pressed against his chest. “nothing’s getting better, i don’t know what to do to get better. this cycle is becoming too much to deal with.”

ashton could’ve cried hearing you say that. knowing the person he loved is feeling so defeated broke his heart. he would do anything it takes to make you feel better, to try and help you.

“i’m here for you, baby,” he stroked his hand softly through your hair. “anything you need me to do, just say the word, i promise i will always be here for you.”

“i don’t know what else will help,” you sniffled. “therapy didn’t work, the meds made me feel worse, there’s nothing else. i have nothing else.”

“you have me,” ashton cupped your cheek in his hand, lifting your head to look at him. “if you want me to listen, if you need advice, if you want me to distract you, or if you just want me to hold you while you cry, i'll be here. no matter what.”

he leaned down, kissing your forehead before pecking your lips a few times in a row. finally getting a small smile out of you. if he could see your smile every day, his life would be complete. that’s all he wanted. for you to be happy.

“i’m sorry for being like this again,” you sighed. not holding eye contact. “i don’t know how you put up with me.”

“i’m not putting up with this,” ashton shook his head. “i care about you, more than anything, i’ll do whatever it takes to make this a little easier for you to get through, because you can get through it.”

you shuffle down, your head resting on his stomach as you close your eyes. tired out from the chaos of your own mind.

“we could take a few trips,” ashton suggested. “you love travelling. i know you still have that list of places you want to visit.”

“i do, but…” you paused, opening your eyes as you squeezed ashton’s hand in yours. “what happens when we come home? i’ll just be like this again.”

“we’ll try and find other things for you to enjoy,�� ashton was determined to stay positive in this situation. “you love to draw, you love to create art, and i’ve seen the way you watch me play the drums and guitar. i could teach you, give you something else to put your mind to.”

you thought for a moment, wiping your sleeves over your eyes one last time. you couldn’t believe ashton still wanted to bother with trying after how difficult and negative you always were in this situation.

“okay,” you mumbled. ashton was surprised to hear that you’ll do this. “i don’t know if it’ll help, but i’ll try.”

“that’s a start,” ashton smiled. “the best thing you can do is try. even if it takes time.”

you nodded. finally looking up at him. you shuffled yourself upwards, capturing his lips in a unexpected but loving kiss. placing your hand on his cheek softly as you pull away.

“how would you feel about getting a guitar?” he asked, hands on your waist pulling you to straddle him. “i know how much you love painting, we could buy some paint for it so you can make it your own.”

“i could paint little flowers on it,” you excitedly suggested. “and maybe some butterflies too, that would look pretty.”

ashton nodded in agreement, just happy that you were willing to do this to see if it’ll help having your mind preoccupied with something like learning how to play an instrument. he hoped this would help, hating seeing you hurting like this.

“well, the band has no plans on making new music just yet,” ashton tucked your hair behind your ears. “we could take a trip soon… italy maybe?”

“really? you want go to italy before going back to australia?” you asked, one of your bucket list places, knowing how much he wanted to head back to australia after tour ended.

“australia can wait, i want to make sure you’re okay first.”

you let out a long breath, leaning towards him to wrap your arms around his neck, his arms around your back as he hugged you as close to him as he could get you. he kissed your cheek, making sure you knew he would always be there for moments like this.

“i love you,” he said quietly. “remember i’ll always be here, for anything you need. you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you held him tighter. “i love you, ash.”

a few more tears threatened to leave your eyes as you hugged. you truly didn’t think you’d be here anymore if ashton hadn’t come into your life when he did. and now he can be your anchor that grounds you and gives you a reason to try and live this life, no matter how tough it might be.

✩ ✩ ✩

taglist: @hexsdexs @conspiracy-ash @oliviah-25 @superbloomrry | if you would like to join my taglist, please comment here or see this post

[justmeinadaze]

"I'm Just a F**ked Up Girl Looking For Her Own Peace of Mind"

I'm currently experience this and struggling with it so I wrote a little thing here. *sighs*

TW: Mental health (anxiety and depression), child abuse, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Reader has a breakdown and the guys help her through.

Eddie firmly barreled open the front door as he powerwalked into the house. Steve had texted those two words he dreaded every time he got a text from the former jock. 

“Bad day.”

When they started dating you, you told them about your past. About the hospital stay and medication… the depressive lows and manic anxiety episodes… the thoughts that pushed through your head from time to time even though your life was so much better now than where it had been. 

“I’m not…easy…to be with.”

“That’s ok, honey, neither are we.”

You three had laughed at that at the time. 

The first time they experienced it broke their hearts for you. People always mentioned “feeling depressed” or “oh I’m so anxious about this thing!” but they discovered the true meaning of those words during your first break in front of them.

They hadn’t moved in with you yet so you were able to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. Your mind constantly reminding you of things that needed to be done and how you were a failure for not doing them. Nightmares plagued your dreams at all hours so you just gave up, scrolling through your phone instead as the mental illness continued to whisper.

“Do better. You’re lazy. May as well just get it over with and end the burden you put on people.”

That following evening you had a date night with them at their place and you couldn’t cancel. You genuinely wanted to see them but you were so tired…

“A good girlfriend goes out on dates. Go ahead. Cancel. Let’s see how quick they leave you for someone better.”

Through the first half of the movie they put on, your leg never stopped moving. Steve watched as your eyes never stayed focus in one place. Eddie felt your erratic energy radiate off you as you switched from holding his hand to letting go every few minutes. 

“Baby? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.”, you responded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just a bit tired. It’s ok. I’ll get over it.”

Steve paused the film and as his hand petted your head you broke down. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I be normal?! I’m ruining everything. You should just leave me and find someone better.”

“Hey, hey. No. Sweetheart, no one is better than you.”

“Talk to us, honey. What’s going on?”

You sobbed as you told them what had been happening over the last few days. The listened intently, comforting you anyway they could think of in that moment. 

“They don’t go away, Steve. Those thoughts never go away. Most days I can manage them but they are always there. W-Who can I tell? If I tell a therapist or a doctor they will put me back in the hospital even though I’m not going to do anything… I can’t tell my friends because I feel like I’m burdening them or they just don’t care. I can’t tell people in general because then I’m being ‘overdramatic’. I can’t take time to heal because I’m supposed to ‘suck it up’. So I do… Eddie, I want my brain to just stop telling me I want to die because I really don’t. Some days, though, on bad days…it’s so loud…”

The metalhead yanked you to his chest as you cried, crying with you as he tightened his grip as if he could squeeze all your broken pieces back together. He’d give anything to take your pain away, they both would. 

Today was a manic day and Steve picked up on it fast. Today was his day off and as soon as you woke up, you barely said a word. He asked you if you wanted breakfast and you shot him an angry look as you walked away. Turning on the tv, he put on the game but after a few minutes you came around the corner snapping at him to turn the noise down. Even when he muted the sound, he could hear you growling and swearing under your breath as you moved around the bedroom. 

Other people would see it as you being a brat; causing drama for the sake of drama. 

You wished you could make the world understand that was the opposite of what you wanted. In an episode like this everything was just…amplified…and for some reason your brain insisted it was on purpose. Steve was purposely turning up the volume to get under skin. The birds chirping outside knew you were on the edge so they gathered outside your window with intent. Even the clock on the bed side table was mocking you. 

Both men tried to handle days like this by themselves but when it got to a certain point, they knew they needed to come together to help you. That point came when you abruptly screamed and threw something hard against the wall. 

When Eddie entered the bedroom, Steve was off to the side watching you as you angrily paced, fluttering your fingers with eyes squeezed tightly closed. 

“What happened?”

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice as you shrugged and threw your hands in the air. 

“What happened? What the fuck happened?! Oh, I don’t know. Where do we start, Eddie?! This house is a fucking mess. I tell you guys all the time I need fucking help! I’m not a maid! I’m your girlfriend! But who fucking cares right?! We can just live in trash and be unhappy!”

They knew better than to respond. Before you three moved in together, you had suggested they come to therapy with you and they were surprised with some of the things they learned. They and even you knew they were more than accommodating when it came to housework and splitting household chores. When you were growing up, however, it was never enough.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, look at this mess! Did you do anything today?!”

Little you looked around at the immaculate living room wondering what else you could have missed. 

“I work and I slave all day at a job I hate so you can have food and a roof! The least you could do is fucking get off your ass and clean a bit!”

“I-I’m sorry, mama.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job! We’re a team remember? I need you to pull your weight.”

They could almost see interactions like that replaying through your eyes and it killed them. They also saw how fast the logic brain took over as you realized what you were doing before the depressive brain abruptly took over.

“I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to… I know I’m being crazy…I just…” You lean your back against the wall and slide to the floor with your hands over your ears. 

Both men descend with you, crawling closer to you and as soon as Steve’s hand touches your bicep you head shoots up with eyes full of tears. 

“I’m sorry. You two don’t deserve this. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“No, baby, you’re not terrible. Everything’s ok.”

“I-I-I appreciate…e-e-every…everything you guys do. Fuck. Everything is so loud, Eddie. I can’t… I couldn’t…I just wanted to scream…”

“Then scream.” You laughed at his response as you wiped your eyes but he insisted. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Just let go.”

“What about…about the neighbors?”

“Like they don’t get an earful almost every night.”, he jokes, grinning when you laugh again. “Go ahead. Just lean back and let loose.”

You roll your eyes as you do what he says but it’s a small shout that barely echoes in the room. 

“Wow. That was both adorable and pathetic. Come on now. Steve, why don’t you try?”

Chuckling, he struggles to stop smiling making you giggle harder before finally closing his eyes and letting out a good scream that makes the metalhead clap. 

“That’s the king of Hawkins right there! Now try again princess.”

Sighing at his antics, you do as he says actually letting go while they scrunch their face and cover their ears. 

“Woo! That was like Banshee from X-Men! Way to go!”

“What about you, nerd?”, you ask as he smirks.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate as he leans his head back and howls loudly like a wolf. 

“I love you both.”, you softly grin as you reach for both boy’s hands. “I’m sorry for being…me.”

Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Steve tilts you closer to him and kisses the top of your head. 

“Don’t ever apologize for being you, honey. We love you. Every part of you.”

“We know everyday you’re trying, baby. Unlike your mother who insists on being an evil little gremlin.” You giggle at Eddie’s interpretation. “Like your wizard of a therapist said, healing takes time and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Jesus, Munson, you ARE a nerd.”, Steve jests. “But the other stuff he said I agree with.”

“Oh please! Tell me her doctor doesn’t sound like Gandalf from time to time.”

“I still have no idea who that is.”

After rising to his feet, the metalhead grabs your hands and pulls you off the floor. 

“Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”, he announces with a mischievous smirk before kissing your lips and running back towards the living room. 

“I’ll make dinner.”, Steve murmurs as he leans down to kiss your lips as well. 

“Oh, you know he won’t allow that. He’s going to want you in front of the tv so you don’t miss anything.”

“True. Hm. How about Enzos delivered?”

When you nod, he caresses your cheek before disappearing after his friend. 

As your eyes glance around the room again everything seems different than it did before. Instead of seeing a mess ridden, dark empty area, you saw a bright room filled with memories of the men you loved making you laugh and feel loved unconditionally. 

“But for how long? It’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it’s not.”, you whisper. 

Taking a deep breath, you head towards the living room where Eddie and Steve greet you with a comforting smile. 

[thatgayoctopus]

Wrote a quick thingy about Otto dealing with Chronic Pain from the accident!! This takes place during his redemption arc, just before or at the very beginning of the goblin war arc.

1.1k words, no warnings as far as I'm aware.

Enjory!

~•~ ~•~ ~•~

Otto had hoped that once those wretched mechanical arms were detached from his body, that would be the end of it. The knee pain, the cramping, the aching that the odd distribution of weight caused. That heavy piece of machinery was stuck to him for months on end. By the time he used the power of the neural cortex to separate it from him, he’d grown sick of only being able to lie on his side and stomach, constantly standing with a shifting center of balance, not to mention the way the melted metal tugged on his skin where the mechanism was fused to his back and neck. Now it was months later. He’d been through a lot since then: trapped in a robot, spending time as Spider-man, remaining comatose for several days after returning Peter's body, turning a new page and trying his best to fight on the side of “good.” 

Now he sat sulking in the Spider’s nest like usual, however when normally he would be fiddling with some of his or Spider-man’s gear, he was instead resting his head on the counter, face buried in his crossed arms, and biting back the pain in his lower body. The sharp throbbing originated in his back and spread down through his legs, flaring up on days where he was more physically active. He mumbled a quiet curse under his breath, remembering how he’d worked on the new surveillance center longer than he knew he should’ve. He was so distracted by the shooting pain and his own thoughts that he hadn’t really registered when the door to the lab opened, and a familiar set of footsteps made their way into the main room.

“Otto? Are you here?”

Anna Maria’s voice called out near the front as she switched on a light. Otto, who had originally turned them off to help fight his growing headache, let out a complaining groan, squeezing his eyes shut. While he normally relished her company, he was… rather embarrassed to be in such a state, not to mention unable to socialize properly with the looming threat of a migraine. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you in the dark. You alright, slick?” She set down her purse as she approached him, tentatively setting a concerned hand on his upper back. He flinched slightly, letting out a hiss of pain when he moved, and struggled to relax once more afterwards.

“Y- yes, I am just fine Anna Maria, thank you…” He lied, voice obviously strained and laced with irritation. He would much rather blatantly deny the truth than admit defeat to something he’d been putting up with for months now. Anna Maria eyed him skeptically, taking her hand off his back after noticing his uncomfortable reaction.

“Really..? You don’t seem to be doing too well. Is something wrong?” She leaned over the counter, tilting her head to try and get a look at his face. He refused to reciprocate, sensing her presence there and turning his head away just slightly, nose buried in the crook of his elbow.

“No, Anna Maria. I am fine.” He warned, shifting in his seat slightly to try and dispel the pins and needles feeling in his legs. She pursed her lips, furrowing her brow. 

“I don’t believe you. Look me in the eye and tell me that you’re feeling okay, then I’ll leave you alone.” Crossing her arms, she waited expectantly for a response from the young man, who’d fallen silent. He finally heaved out a sigh, sitting up slowly with a look of pain drawn tight across his face. He refused to look her in the eye as he quietly spoke.

“... I am simply dealing with some… joint pain. That is all.” Otto’s gaze remained trained to one of his many projects on the counter nearest him, distracting himself as he crossed his arms and leaned back. Despite his desperate attempt to look casual and unaffected by the woman’s commanding presence, he still sat stiffly and winced with each miniscule twist and lean of his torso. Her face softened when she could see his expressions, and while she would never say it out loud, she was proud of the way she managed to make him open up so consistently. 

“Seems pretty intense for your average aches and pains. Can you tell me what's wrong…? I might be able to help.” She asked gently, reaching up and putting a hand on his forearm. He finally looked her way, glancing between her hand and her eyes as he debated on whether or not he should be honest. Eventually he caved with an indignant growl, rolling his eyes. 

“I have been dealing with this pain since I first had my mechanical arms fused to my nervous system. Apparently having several kilograms permanently attached to your back for a year is not beneficial for your skeletal structure.” He gave a rushed, sarcastic answer, as per usual when he was upset about whatever situation he currently found himself in. It's funny, as much as Anna Maria felt she understood Otto, she often forgot about his criminal past, and had never stopped to think about the physical effect it may have had on him. 

“Have you seen a doctor about it?” She asked, tilting her head.

“You know as well as I how sick of hospitals I have become… not to mention-” he cut himself off before entering his usual spiel about “medical professionals” being clueless dolts, since Anna Maria had already scolded him on that sentiment. She'd made him aware that when he felt powerless his first instinct was to blame everyone else for their shortcomings, and now any time he resorted to that mentality he noticed right away, attempting to redirect as per her instruction. He eyed Anna Maria, carefully resuming his sentence after restructuring the thoughts in his head.

“... Not to mention I have deduced that the injury and associated pain is not severe, as well as easily avoidable.” He finished cautiously.

She scoffed, a little dumbfounded by his belittlement of the situation.

“Not severe? Otto, you can't even stand up. Please take this seriously. I won't make you go to the doctor, I suppose, but I'll be damned if I don't do anything at all to help. Excuse my language. What can I do to help?”

“Anna Maria, I don't-”

“What can I do to help, Otto?"

She repeated, much more insistently. He pressed his mouth into a line, chewing on his lips as he regarded her. His eyes lowered, and he drew in a hesitant breath.

“... I keep a few ice packs in the freezer. You will find them in the room adjacent to this one.” He finally mumbled, giving up trying to fight her. She gave a content smile, and patted his arm appreciatively, if not a little smugly. 

“Thank you, Otto. Would you like some painkillers?” He went quiet, refusing to give her more ammunition against him. 

“Otto.” She restated sternly, to which he grumbled with frustration. 

“... Third cabinet from the right.”

[triz-costa]

Young Royals Fic Recs

YOUNG ROYALS (AO3)

5 times the students of Hillerska didn’t realize Wille and Simon were together + 1 time they definitely did by Piebingo/@piebingo

"5 times the students of Hillerska didn't realize Wille and Simon were together + 1 time they definitely did"

It’s not punishment (but why does it feel like it is) by starvalisedham (Chapters 5/6)

"three times crown prince Wilhelm did his duty, two times he refused, and one time where duty gave way for privilege. a.k.a. five times Wilhelm struggled to balance his duty as future monarch with his personal life, and the one time he learned to accept his lot in life (it helps that Simon has been there the entire time, helping him along) or: that ridiculously ham-handed fic where Hillerska students are constantly baffled by the dynamic between our two lovebirds"

Two Princes for the Price of One by Safr2n (Erik lives)

"Wilhelm spending time with Simon in Bjärstad leads to Erik discovering who his "crush" is. Turns out it comes in handy when he outs himself in front of the boys of Forest Bridge to defend Simon."

We’re In This Together by CaithyCat (Erik lives)

"Wilhelm and Simon try to cope with the aftermath of the video. Erik does everything he can to help."

Brothers, Brownies, and Brevity by NerdGirl07 (Erik lives)

"Written for the young royals secret santa exchange 2021 for the prompt: Erik lives! I'd love to see how the relationship between Erik and Simon could have been, if Erik had been alive. Erik being a great big brother, supporting Wilhelm and guiding him. Get ready for Erik being the greatest big brother ever, a dessert tower, a demonstration from the Hilerska rowing team, and an act of bravery."

You’re Simply the Best by cloudymilk (Chapters 27/27) (Erik lives)

“Hey Little brother,” Erik greeted. “Excited for your romantic rendezvous?” “Shut up,” Wille groaned, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Just making sure you didn’t chicken out,” Erik laughed. “Since August seems to be under the impression that you are coming home this weekend.” “Fucking August,” Wille muttered. “He’s staying back and I just- didn’t want to deal with him.” “So if you’re not staying there, and you’re not coming here…” Erik began, pausing for Willie to answer and giving another laugh when Wille didn’t fill in the blanks. “Pray tell Wilhelm, where exactly is my little brother spending the weekend? I thought your crush went to Hillerska?” or Erik lives"

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings by cloudymilk

"He’d always known Simon was beautiful, to him, it was a universal constant. But now, getting to see him in person, looking up at Wille so openly - eagerly - he was radiant. Following Wille's speech, he and Simon finally get some time alone together. Post S2 E6"

If hurting wounds would mend (never left that place inside my head) by Lire_Casander (Chapters 36/36)

"when a car accident when coming back to the palace after the last day of the term ends up with wilhelm in a coma, there’s a fracture in time. wilhelm’s subconscious provides him with a whole, happy life where he gets to be with simon and erik never died. meanwhile, in the real world, queen kristina is faced with an impossible decision about family, duty and love. what will happen when both worlds - wilhelm’s dream world and the real world - clash together?"

Get it off your chest, get it off my desk by cloudymilk

"Vincent hasn’t called him to stand since the time with Felice, although there have been multiple nights where Simon has slept over. He supposes that while one can assume, it’s not actually evident that he and Simon had sex during those times (even though they definitely have). There was no mistaking the way they’d left early the night before, however. No mistaking the darkened bruise on Wille’s neck. They’ve already received some smirks from the boys around them, cheekily asking them if they’d had a goodnight."

Ace of Hearts by Whiterabbit11 (Chapters 6/6)

"Eventually, Kristina realises that Wille is a mama's boy. An outsider POV of Wille and Simon through their years at Hillerska."

Yes, Your Highness by Osseus (Part 1)

"Simon is still as sure as he ever was that there is no need to have a Queen, or a King, or anything of the sort, but there is the slight problem—that the crown prince is fucking hot and there is a part of Simon that truly does want to worship the boy, get on his knees and let him use that power that was so unceremoniously given to him on Simon, for Simon. So yeah, maybe he has taken his ‘fuck the monarchy’ stance a bit too seriously. Simon maybe gets off on using Willes title and Wille gets off on Simon using it, that's it, that's the fic."

Kneel by Osseus (Part 2)

"Getting hit with the full force of the prince’s attention is addicting and Simon absolutely loves that he is the only person who gets that Wille, everyone gets the Crown Prince, but he is the only one who gets to have the prince, to be wrapped in that intensity and to be had by him. And this is a problem for Simon—because every time he sees his boyfriend walking around in all of his commanding, silently demanding, princely glory, he can’t get his mind out of the gutter. — Or, Simon is loosing his mind over how hot he finds Wille’s newfound confidence."

Undo me, unravel me by Osseus (Part 3)

"Simon can barely keep his eyes off his boyfriend, standing tall and proud under the attentive gaze of those in the room. Wille commands the space with nothing more than a cough and a gaze and it is fucking addicting watching him do it. Simon already knows that he is going to be a mess by the end of the night. — Or, Simon is obsessed with how good Wille looks when he is all dressed up and the Crown Prince knows it."

Nothing to Fear by HeartStaaahp (Chapters 35/?)

“But it was me.” A collection of different POVs taking place after season 2 of Young Royals. Basically random headcanons from what I think/hope could happen in season 3 and beyond, way into the future. Nothing but happy endings for my royal babies."

Screwed by fandom_commitment_issues (Chapters 26/26)

"Erik lived, but things are still Royally screwed up."

Love Bites by fandom_commitment_issues

"Wilhelm came out on live television a week ago. Spectacularly, and unexpectedly, and – in classic Wille fashion – stupidly. Simon gets a little handsy. The students of Hillerska are curious by nature. Or The Hickey Crack Fic no one asked for."

[xreaderbooks]

All I breathe (2)

Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of abuse, trauma, and torture

Summary: Could a mission to Y/n’s childhood home, the Autumn Court, spark a friendship between the night courts spymaster and the newest emissary? Or will they let their hatred come between, what could be, a strong bond?

A/N: I made Nuan from ACOWAR heavily OC in this, I haven't read the books in so long so please forgive any reference mistakes. I haven't read ACOSF either so keep that in mind, I did try to do my research for storyline purposes when it comes to the first 4 books. I also do not know how to describe dresses very well lol. Send me a message or comment if you want to be tagged in future parts.

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

An Illyrian bastard! you could not stand him. He was a contemptuous brute as you knew most Illyrians were. Cassian and Rhysand were just fine, if only he turned out more like his brothers. Although the comment the former had made had you reeling. In no world do you see yourself sharing a bed with the Shadowsinger. What was worse was knowing the days to come were going to be filled with hours of what had just occurred. In the safety of your room, you had released the flames that begged for freedom, letting them kindle on your hands, careful not to get too close to the furniture.

The power you and your twin had shared assuming it had come from your mother's distant bloodline. Your mother was another factor that you had thought of constantly during your stay at this new court. While you dealt with your own struggles mentally, you and Lucien had a better life here in Velaris, you were free from all the males who once dominated your life. You couldn’t say the same for your poor mother. She was the one person you looked forward to seeing.

“He’s not right you know?” A smooth casual familiar voice echoed from behind you. Your power jolted, letting out a blast of controlled flames in your hands.

“I could have burned you, you idiot!” You shoved your brother away from you once you recovered from the shock.

“No, you really couldn’t have.” He chuckled. There Lucien stood a few feet behind you, he just left yesterday morning, there was no reason for him to be back so early.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You crossed your arms and shuffled closer to your bed, sitting on the edge.

“I heard Rhysand gave you a tough assignment, with an even tougher partner.”

“Do not call him my partner and he’s weaker than any of you give him credit for,” You snarked back.

Lucien put his hands up in surrender, “Relax I’m just here to ease the tension.”

“Like you ever,” You glared at him playfully.

“He has a way of making you tense so easily, Sister.” Lucien sits beside you on the edge of the end of your bed. “Despite your hatred for him, you need to place your trust in him fully while you’re there.”

“Why can’t you come with me?” You put on your best puppy dog-like pleading eyes, Lucien stopped falling for it once you both came to an age where life was not so easily bought by a sweet smile or those perfect doe eyes you were able to mimic.

“I would if I could, I have business elsewhere” He ruffled your hair pushing your head away lightly when you scowled at him. “Important business in the mortal realms of all places.”

“Oh please, you can feign annoyance all you want but you’ve found an interest there.”

“I don’t have much keeping me here anyway Y/n, better to keep busy.” A sad disposition had formed within him whenever he was near Elain, he couldn’t do more than he was already doing to make Elain comfortable around him.

The words stung, and suddenly the statement Azriel made didn’t seem so far off the truth. You knew you could make yourself useful enough to be of value but what did any of that mean when your own twin couldn’t find your company worthy. Obviously, he did have places to go and people to meet but you did too and if he ever needed you, you would drop everything to be there for him. The scar on your left cheek was a testament to that.

You sat there side-by-side for a couple of minutes, enjoying each other's company in silence. Lucien tapped your knee twice before declaring he walk you out before your journey. He wrapped a loose arm around your shoulders, “I will be here when you get back.” He squeezed you into his side.

Reaching the last step Azriel was there waiting for you, he gave Lucien a nod before looking away to give you and your brother privacy. You squeezed his middle, “You better.”

He gave you a kiss on your forehead, “Stay safe, sister.”

“Goodbye brother,” You whispered back to him before he disappeared into thin air. Cassian came out of the kitchen and nodded for you to come to him.

Once in the kitchen Cassian peeked out of the door and spoke in a hushed tone, “Listen, I know it’s gonna be hard but the only way this plan will work is if you both find a way to set aside your differences and learn how to communicate.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair giving him an exasperated look, you thought he was going to give you some advice or something more useful than a lecture. “Unlike him, I believe I can be civilized. Besides we’re about to have plenty of bonding time.”

You caught him wince at the word bonding, “Let’s hope so.”

“Was that it?” You asked. Cassian hummed in response and with a finger flicked your head up by your chin.

“Remember Y/n, don’t hesitate. Hesitate and you're dead.” The same advice he gave you throughout training, a feat you had consistent trouble with; hesitation. You were decent, despite being out of shape with the lack of training and with what little you knew of combat. Illyrian training was different than what you were used to but it was better and you learned enough to be of use if you were needed. Maybe a little clumsy and lacked some confidence in your skills but in a life-or-death situation you expected your survival instincts would kick in.

He guided you to where Azriel was sitting on the couch, fiddling with his knife.

~~~

Winnowing to the dawn court went smoothly. You and Azriel winnowed separately, neither of you willing to touch each other, opting to travel alone rather than conserve energy to save time. The first big jump had you stopping for a break at the Day Court, you felt your power falter, the surge of fire from earlier draining you a little. The law of your power, where one of your powers is strong the others weaken.

You stopped by a lake for water, careful of your surroundings. A quick minute stop and when you had winnowed away to the point on the other side of the border where you knew to meet Azriel, he had given you an earful.

“Where were you?” His tone was nothing short of accusatory.

“I felt like I needed a short break so I stopped for some water,” You spoke casually so as not to alarm the always-on-edge spymaster. It took a toll on your patience but you needed him to be calm.

His eyes were narrow as he stared you down, “Where?”

“Near Day Court border Azriel, Where else?”

“Specifically where did you stop for water?” He pushed, “Shocking there were no sentries nearby.”

“I assure you whatever your mind conjured up about my whereabouts, is not true.”

“I just find it curious how you were not intercepted,” He crossed his arms and tilted his head “unless there is something that you’re not telling me.”

You were beginning to feel anxious by his interrogation, you didn’t have anything to hide but this felt familiar in the ways your brothers would question you after a night out or worse when you were on your little missions for them. Tamlin would do the same, jealous even though you knew he never truly loved you. Even when he had Feyre.

“I told you all there is to know,” You grit your teeth. “We’re wasting time on this useless topic when we would have been at Dawn already.”

“I don’t trust you.” He begins to walk in the direction of the border of the Dawn Court.

“Oh really?” Your voice is frivolous as you follow him, “I hadn’t gathered that. I can feel your shadows, they are not as obscure as you think they are. Even so, I have nothing to prove to you Shadowsinger.”

His jaw clenches, “You somehow have fooled everyone in my court that you are innocent but I will find a way to break you Firewielder.”

“And you will fail,” You stop walking when you step in front of him, blocking his way. “You think of me as some villain Azriel when I am just someone who is trying to get by in whatever way, whatever place I can. That is all I have been trying to do, all I have ever done. Gods, if your High Lady could forgive me, why can’t you?”

“You have caused my High Lady enough harm,” He says simply and starts to walk again but you block his path. “You do not deserve the forgiveness, Rhysand and Feyre have so graciously granted you.”

“I have paid for my sins just as I’m sure you have and will continue to do so, I do not need a constant reminder of my fuckups any more than you do.” Your words were like venom, you may not know all of what the Shadowsinger was made of but the whispers throughout the world of what he does to people, rumor or no- you knew would haunt him til the end of his days. “You are no better than I am Spymaster, you should do well to remember that next time you sink that knife into someone’s flesh.”

An astonished look featured on his chiseled face, you’d wager no one but his brothers dared to speak to him in such a way. You weren’t one to speak so flippantly, but Azriel brought out a side of you that you had to admit you reveled in. You hadn’t felt as strong as when you let all your anger out on him. Your brothers, your father, and Tamlin had made you cower into yourself so much so that you didn’t dare argue. Azriel lit a fire within you that fueled you to shed the weaker parts of your soul and fight back.

~~~

You were within the walls of the Dawn Court castle only minutes after your discussion with Azriel. Not a word was spoken after you said your peace, you stood next to each other with a generous amount of space between you as you waited for someone to attend to you at the front steps of the palace.

A friendly face appeared from behind the doors urging you both to come inside, the healer of the Dawn Court was a long-time friend of yours. You hadn’t seen or spoken to her in years yet her countenance was still the same. She hugged you in greeting and gave the Shadowsinger a nod.

“The High Lord is otherwise engaged unfortunately but he sends his regards and me of course,” Nuan clutched your arm that was already looped around hers. “I’ll be showing you to your rooms.”

“Thank you,” You smiled. Azriel repeated what you had said and followed close behind you. She guides you through a series of hallways with large pillars framing the view of the mountains.

“It’s not a problem, though I do ask that you join me for dinner tonight.” She pauses in front of a door, she’s still holding your arm so you assume this is Azriels room. “Both of you, it’ll be at that restaurant in town that we used to go to Y/n, you know the one.”

You nodded with pursed lips, “Yes, I do but I’m sure Azriel has other ideas on how he’d like to spend his night.” You tried to hint at her to leave him alone, you needed a break from him and his attitude.

“I’ll be there.” Was all Azriel said before bowing his head at her and closing himself in his room for the night.

Nuan raised her brows at you with a slightly agape mouth, dragging you through the long corridor lined with near-opalescent golden stone pillars. Once she had shown you your room a couple of doors down from Azriels, she shut the door behind her. “I had to give you this room so that I can talk to you without him hearing, Cauldron that male is astonishingly gorgeous.”

You snorted, “For a bat.”

She placed her hands on her hips, “Now I know damn well you have taste, Y/n and I know that you wholeheartedly agree with me.”

“I might have once upon a time, I’ve changed.” You smirked and strolled around the room, taking it all in. Your room had a balcony overlooking one of the many gardens, you would have chosen to stay at the Dawn Court if given the opportunity.

“Surely not because of the husband!” Nuan gasped. She reminded you of the one you were fake married to, Fae cannot lie but when one is desperate, the loopholes you find are wild.

You raised an eyebrow at her dramatics, “No, of course not.”

She walked toward you and reached out with her mechanical hand tracing the scar on your face, “Do you think he is that superficial? I have seen the scars on his hands Y/n, he is beautiful but not completely unmarred.”

“I forget how forward you are Nu,” You stepped out of her reach. “Have you heard the news of the faebane? It’s traveling all across the lands, the reason why we’re here.”

She nodded grimly, “Yes, I have heard but my information is limited. And you’re deflecting but that’s no matter, we shall continue that topic at dinner.”

“For an alchemist, you sure do like to gossip.” You teased, “You should seek out Azriel before dinner to discuss the faebane situation.”

“Why do you think I’m friends with an emissary? you make the most pleasant company for gossip.” She reached for the door handle and slipped out of the room.

~~~

You forgot how free-flowing Dawn Court fashion is, as you dressed you felt yourself grow self-conscious. The dress exposed your thighs, arms, and stomach with shibari-like knots around the torso and neck with layered sheer nude material covering. A huge difference from what you were wearing before. You reminded yourself of the fact that the fae of the Dawn Court were not judgmental people and they made dresses like this for all shapes and sizes and they saw every being as radiant. They were peaceful and kind and as you walked into the restaurant, you and Nuan had found one night, Azriel was sitting there in conversation with the dark-haired beauty.

Her dress was similar to yours, and her upturned eyes and olive-toned skin were complimented by the lavender color she was wearing. Azriel was talking intently, the loud chattering of everyone around you clouded your ability to hear what he was saying. Nuan was right, he was gorgeous. Beautiful in a way you could not compare to a male or female, he was otherwordly.

You scolded yourself mentally, as beautiful as he may be, his personality was not. His calculated, smooth-toned, encapsulating speech- your mind wandered again. You could not catch a break from him. Mentally or physically and you were sick of it. With a huff, you lifted the hem of your dress so that it would not catch onto your heel and strutted over to the table where Azriel was out of his chair and holding it out for you to take his place.

In the time you took to admire him from the entrance, you failed to see that they were sitting at a table for two. There was room for two more but you’d have to steal a chair from another table and he had given his chair to you. Your eyes flickered from the chair to him and hesitantly took a seat, he tucked you into the table, and you didn’t miss the way Nuan’s lips turned up on one side.

He pulled up a chair and sat. A Cheshire grin spread upon Nuan’s face, immediately nerves took over you.

“Now that we’re done exchanging information,” She nodded once to Azriel and directed her attention to you. “Y/n about that husband, how is he?”

Your jaw ticked, “I wouldn’t know, I don’t speak to him.”

She hummed, “Interesting. And your brother is he well?”

“Yes, he is, though I suspect you know that considering he visits you often.”

Her laugh came out in a bark, Azriel's eyes and shadows watched you two in a dance, silently observing your postures and hidden messages. He wouldn’t understand the game you and Nuan played, especially not the one Nuan was playing right now, you were beginning to lose track of yourself.

“So Tamlin is completely out of the picture now?” She went back to her original target. You coughed a little bit of the water you sipped a second before she asked. “No, Nuan.” You cursed. “I live in the night court now, everything's changed.”

“Just curious, Y/n/n-” She said lightheartedly. “Do you live there with him?” She glanced at the male sitting next to you. So this is what she wanted to know.

Azriels eyes widened, “Absolutely not!” You both exclaimed at the same time, creating looks coming from nearby tables.

“Apologies, really I thought you two were together, possibly in secret. I got a sense that you both were involved, please forgive me.” Nuan’s cheeks reddened as she stammered her apology.

You were entirely upset knowing that she was embarrassed by her display. You switch the topic as smoothly as you could, asking about how the faebane works and if there was any way she could create an antidote without knowing the exact ingredients in the newer version. She answered each question with ease, Azriel asked a few of his own and finished up the conversation they were having earlier about the theories on who could have made it. At that time your dinner was cleared, and the three of you lingered to pay for your meal.

“Excuse me, I believe I see a patient of mine who isn’t doing what he’s supposed to-” Nuan rushed out of her seat to an older-looking male.

You caught Azriels stare when you turned back into your chair. He looked pensive as he opened his mouth to speak, “How did you and Nuan…”

“Meet? Under the mountain.” You responded though you weren’t so sure why considering you still wanted to be petty for his interrogation. “She healed and made Lucien's eye, also helped me heal when I got the scar.”

A few moments of silence.

“I’d like to-” He cleared his throat “I’d like to apologize for earlier.”

Your eyes search his in suspicion, he continues. “I should have believed you. My shadows told me that you were speaking the truth and I didn’t believe you.”

“I have had enough overbearing males in my life dictating my life and questioning my every move without you being added to the list.”

“I’m trying Y/n,” He sighed clenching the table napkin.

“By telling me that your shadows tried to plead my case and even then you wouldn’t believe me?”

“When you put it that way.” He breathed out a laugh, the closest one you’ve ever heard from him that was meant for your ears. It was a small gesture, one that did not go unnoticed by you. Around you, he was always so tense.

“What is it then?” You inquire, “Do you hate me or could we call a truce?”

“As if you could hold your tongue for long enough for me not to hate you.”

You allowed yourself a small smile, “You are truly unrelenting, if this is how you are with me I wonder how are with the people you bring to your chamber.”

“You talk of my work with so much ease,” He grimaced. “You wouldn’t be able to actually stomach it.”

The humor that hung in the air was gone, you sensed a challenge. “I can’t do what you do but I am not afraid of you Shadowsinger.”

His hazel eyes beheld yours, exploring them, you weren’t sure what he was searching for but the intensity with which he stared unnerved you. “If you weren’t the sister of the male I despise the most and if you weren’t once married to the one who caused my lady so much grief, I could be inclined to like you.” His smooth low toned voice was hypnotic.

You reached for your glass of wine, the energy too much for you to take sober taking a sip before replying “If you weren’t such an insufferable bastard, I could be inclined to say the same.”

“I still don’t trust you,” Azriel said slyly.

You rolled your eyes, “Do you have mind healers in Velaris? Cause you desperately need one, you all do.”

That brought out a deep laugh from him, you looked at him in awe at the melody that came from his mouth and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time. Your stare fixed upon his smile, bright and angelic made your heart jump. He was suddenly aware of you and the wall he had when he was around you built up again.

Your mind felt the need to know if what he said earlier was true, “Is that really why you hate me?”

“You can’t just let a moment be, can you Firewielder?” He no longer carried that sharp grin that had you melting for a second.

“I am not my brother, Eris I mean, what he’s done. I have no part in it.”

He nodded slowly, “Now tell me why you hate me.”

You picked at your cuticle as you spoke- a nervous human habit that you picked up throughout your years. “I don’t. I don’t particularly like you but you have done nothing but make my life miserable since the moment you rescued us from the ice and every moment after that.”

You were being chased by your brothers along with Feyre and Lucien when Cassian and Azriel had come to Feyre's aid. That was when you had found out that Feyre was the High Lady of the Night Court when you and Lucien had been brought to Velaris and saw the city you’ve grown to love. It was the start of everything. Before and after the war.

You and Lucien were appointed as emissaries to the night court, Lucien had his assignments and you had yours. You served as both emissary and spy (occasionally), while Lucien had to send bi-weekly reports to Azriel, you had to report to him for every single assignment unless specified otherwise by the High Lord. This is the cause of the clash you had with the Spymaster.

That day was the only day you had peace from him, if only because nobody in the inner circle had warmed to your presence yet.

“My whole life I’ve heard of the monstrous fae who served the Night Court, the Court of Nightmares was real to me but I was never afraid of the stories- of you. All you did was prove that the stories were true, like the act you all put on when you go there, is real.”

“You should know that I do not find it easy to be around you Y/n.” You were about to ask him what he meant when Nuan’s figure came into view, pulling a lesser fae male along with her.

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Damian- Damian this is the friend I told you about.” Nuan shoved him your way as you stood, you stumbled into him and he steadied you by your elbows. “I took care of the bill by the way, I told Damian he should walk you to the palace. Azriel and I still have loads to discuss.”

You smiled shyly at the blond-haired guy in front of you and turned your head to where Azriel was once sitting, you were about to protest but Nuan was already dragging Azriel out the door. You appreciated your friend's efforts to set you up with the attractive male that was nothing short of a gentleman as he made easy conversation during the walk to the palace, but after dinner with Azriel, this guy wasn’t going to cut it. It would be too easy for you to bring him up to your room and spend the night with him but you were on a job and you were not going to give Azriel another to scold you. 

~~~

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