#saw this on the live stream and instantly lost my brains

[calkestis]

PADOVA vs. PERUGIA 2-3 Lega Pallavolo Serie A | 06.10.2024

[akaashislover1]

Part 2 (Cop NanamiXwife reader

If you haven’t read part one here it is💕:

‼️MENTIONS OF GUN VIOLENCE, MURDER, MAYBE SOME FOUL LANGUAGE‼️

Tears streamed down your husband’s face as you held him close. His head was buried deep into the crook of your neck. Quiet sobs and tears toppled over your skin. You stared ahead with a blank expression. You felt like crying yet nothing came out.

It has been a month since the incident. A month since you’ve lost your baby girl. A month since your family crumbled.

“Come on, y/n. Y-you gotta eat something. I know today is going to be difficult but remember we’re in this together. I love you.” Nanami whispered on the top of your head, ending it with a little smooch. He had placed a bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of you. Your brain instantly went to your daughter as you stared at the bowl. She always loved to crush crackers with her bare hands and sprinkle them into the soup. Every time she did that, she yelled that it was snowing.

Your eyes looked over to where she would normally sit. She loved sitting at the end of the table. It made her felt like she was royalty or something. She was always daddy’s little princess.

Nanami sat down in the chair across from you. He looked exhausted. His face also wore a blank expression. You could tell just by his eyes that he was ready to fall asleep. Ever since the incident he’s been working more and more. Working harder to find the scumbags that took your joy away. So far he’s had no luck. Mostly everyone that was there answered any questions they could. ‘Did you see anybody before the shootings that looked suspicious?’ Or ‘Did you happen to know or recognize any of the shooters?’

Nanami even got his partner to ask you to identify some recent criminals they caught in other shootings. He knew the toll that that took on you but he felt like it had to be done being as you were the only one that he knew of that saw them. Still, it didn’t make him feel any better when you teared up, shaking your head, none of the guys in the line up room matched what you remembered. It made Nanami sick to his stomach every time he would have to ask you questions about it. It would either end in an argument or both of you embracing each other covered in tears.

What Nanami hated the most though was almost every night you would wake up screaming. Nightmares and paralysis would haunt you. Images of your daughter’s dead body surged through your head every night. You would sometimes feel the tingles and chills as you remembered the feeling of blood on your skin or on your clothes. Nanami has long threw out the clothes all four of you wore that day. You wanted to keep your daughter’s shirt at least but the stained blood said otherwise.

Nanami cleared his throat and gripped your hand that was resting on the table.

“We have to be there in about two hours. Before the guests arrive too. Your mom called me and said her and your dad were going to stay for a couple days after.” Your eyes started to water and the hand that your husband didn’t have made its way to your mouth, trying to stop the whimpers. Before you could say anything, your baby boy started crying. He was lying in the portable crib you had in the living room. You had given him a bottle when Nanami woke you up. If you were being honest, Nanami and your son were the only things keeping you going right now.

You had the door to the bathroom open as you stepped into the shower. The lukewarm water began to drench your body. Your hair slowly fell into place when you looked down at your feet.

“You doing okay, my love?” Nanami’s voice startled you slightly.

“Y-Yeah I’m fine.” Before you could say or do anything else, you felt your husband’s cool hands on your waist. His lips pecked the top of your wet hair. When you turn around Nanami hovered over you. One of his hands stroked your hair out of your face. The water now covered both of you.

“I don’t understand how you take such cold showers.” He chuckled lightly. You gave a nervous smile. The thought of him thinking warm was cold amused you. Nanami reached behind you to turn the water temperature up. Nanami then reached for the shampoo, the scorching water temperature startled you. He squirted some on top of your head, the cool substance contrasted the hot water. His large hands began to message your head. The soap started to bubble as he lathered it all over your head. A light groan escaped your lips as your eyes closed. Nanami’s fingers scrubbed your scalp a little harder.

“I love you so so much y/n. I know with everything it’s been really hard but I am worried about you. You’re barely eating, you’re not getting enough sleep. You know, you could just stay home and I can handle the-”

“No. I-I want to go. I have to. I just. I just miss her so much.” Your eyes teared up. Your husband stroked his fingers through your soapy hair. Your arms instantly wrapped around him. It soothed you, the way he started to stroke the soap out of your hair. Right now was probably the first time in a while that you felt normal. You could hear Nanami’s heart beat against his bare chest. As much as you didn’t want this feeling to end, the both of you knew you had to get ready to leave.

Nanami got your son ready. He wore a little black tux that Nanami had bought for him before he was born so they could match. Your husband always joked about how thankful he is that your baby still fits it. Speaking of matching, Nanami wore a similar black suit but with a black dress shirt underneath. He finished it off with black dress pants and a pair of shiny black dress shoes.

You on the other hand had managed to fix your wet hair into a tight fishtail braid. You had on a multicoloured beaded necklace that your daughter had made for you when she was in kindergarten a few years back. It contrasted the black, skin tight A-line dress that you wore.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked Nanami, who had your son’s diaper bag strapped over his shoulder. He nodded and grabbed the keys to your shared vehicle.

Given the circumstances, it did brighten your mood a little bit that it was such a nice day outside. You and Nanami both would prefer it being sunny and warm as opposed to a cold and rainy day. Your son’s babbling and giggling also made you smile. You looked at the backseat to see the strap on mirror on the backseats headrest. In the mirror, your son was smiling and gripping his clothed feet. A chuckle escaped you as you pondered at how he always managed to get his little shoes off. Suddenly you felt a hand grip your thigh.

“It’s nice to see you smiling again, my love.” Nanami smiled, slipping glances between you and the rear view mirror all the while driving. He gave you a light squeeze as you noticed you were getting closer to the church. Your heart skipped a couple beats. The colour drained from your face as you saw all the different cars starting to arrive at the same time as you.

When you parked in the church’s lot, a group of people dressed in albs and robes, who you guessed worked there came and guided you into the church. The priest and a couple of funeral directors met with you in the back office. Nanami was the one mainly answering questions. You felt as if you were going to start bawling every time you opened your mouth. And if you thought that was tough, when you made it to the main part of the church you saw your mother and father greeting and talking to other relatives. When your mother saw you, you ran up to her and started crying. She embraced you with the tightest hug and you never wanted her to let go. You and Nanami have seen your parents multiple times since then but it didn’t feel real until now.

Nanami hugged your father and they said a few words. You watched still in your mother’s grasp. Your father’s eyes were red and puffy as he spoke. Your husband kept his composure, listening to every word he was saying. Come to think of it, this was a rare occasion, seeing the two most important men in your life on the verge of crumbling. You hated it.

“We’re going to get started soon, if that’s alright? It seems as though everyone is here” the main priest mentioned quietly. He had a look of empathy towards the four of you. You cleared your throat as you looked around. The church wasn’t packed but it wasn’t exactly empty either. A white haired man who you recognized to be Satoru Gojo, your husbands partner, conversed with other coworkers and guests. You remember he was the one who had asked you questions at the station about your daughter. He has known your husband before you two even got married, before you met even. Looking around more, you noticed even more friends and family seated across the church. Most were talking and hugging. Some were quietly conversing. Every second or so a few of that sum would be watching you and/or talking about you. They would have looks of sympathy plastered over their faces. Again, you hated it.

“Hey y/n, how’ve you been?” Gojo appeared out of nowhere. He wore his signature black round shades but it was the fully black suit he was wearing that threw you off. It was the complete opposite of his usual white dress button ups that he wears for work. He wrapped his arms around you. Nanami had warned you so many times of his no sense of personal space but today you found it a little less annoying. More comforting. You squeezed him tighter. Before you could say anything Nanami came and rubbed your back.

“I think everything is ready to go. Satoru, are you going to come sit with us? I think it would be best, especially if you plan on helping.” You moved to Nanami’s side. Gojo agreed only if it was okay with you which you had no problem with.

Nanami escorted you to the front of the church, where your parents were sitting. He gave you a quick kiss and then nodded for your father to join him and Gojo. Your father, Nanami, and Gojo and some other coworkers of your husband all walked towards the doors of the church. Some of them wore their police uniforms while the rest wore all black suits. It made you begin to cry as you saw them lift the small casket. You turned back towards the front of the church. Your mother who sat beside you wrapped her arm around you. Her head landed on your shoulder as the music started.

The tears really didn’t fall until the casket finally made its way to the front. All you could hear was sniffling when the music finally stopped and the casket got placed gently onto its stand.

After the indoor ceremony, you and all of your guests were asked to make your way outside to the cemetery for the burial. Nanami came and gave you a light squeeze and kiss on the cheek and gave your baby boy a little peck before heading back to help carry the casket.

As soon as you, your son and your mother got outside other guests that you haven’t greeted yet surrounded you. They were talking and mumbling at you all at once. Not one thing stuck out to you as you continued walking towards the cemetery. The only thing you noticed was that it was really sunny. The sun played peek a boo, hiding behind the bright fluffy white clouds. Your daughter loved it when it was sunny out. You smiled to yourself as you remembered every single time she would beg to be outside. She wouldn’t stop until she got her way of course. She never stopped. She always reminded you of Nanami in that way. They were both stubborn as hell when they really wanted to be.

Once your mother yelled politely told the people to back off, she yanked your son’s carrier out of your hands. You were too caught up in your thoughts to notice that she began to yank you as well. It took a couple minutes but once everyone made it outside the burial started. You noticed some people had left. You couldn’t care less who was here and who wasn’t at the moment. All that mattered was you and your family.

You saw that her grave was already dug and there was already the metal framework, waiting to be used. Soon enough her casket came. You got to take in the fine details of the woodwork that decorated the top. Once it was placed, your husband walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you. Your eyes closed and your arms went to wrap around his broad back.

Tears streamed down your husband’s face as you held him close. His head was buried deep into the crook of your neck. One of your hands rubbed the back of his neck. Quiet sobs and tears toppled over your skin. You stared ahead with a blank expression. You felt like crying yet nothing came out. He’s been holding it together this entire time. Other than the day it happened this was the only other time you’ve seen him cry about her. Now he was finally letting it all out.

You felt your lips quiver with every sob Nanami was letting out. One of your hands began to rub his back as you tried to squeeze him closer if it were possible. It drained you to hear the sobs and hiccups of your husband but you were more than relieved to see him finally letting it out.

“I’m here. You’re okay, my love. Just breathe.” You whispered into his ear. His arms tightened and he planted kisses on your neck and shoulder, reassuring his love and appreciation for you.

After the funeral, your parents took your baby boy back to your house so the two of you could stay with your daughter for a bit. Everyone had left, including the priest and ushers. Nanami laid his jacket on the ground so you could sit down. You laid your head on your husband’s shoulder as he sat with his legs crossed out and his long arms held up his body.

“It’s going to be so hard to get used to not seeing her around. It’s been so weird not being able to read her bedtime stories or play games with her. I know I have you and our son and I couldn’t be more grateful to have you both still. But I just can’t shake this guilty feeling.” Nanami finished as he took your hand in his. You scrunched your face, confused.

“Guilt? What are you talking about?” You asked worried. You squeezed his hand and looked him in the eyes. They were red and puffy but he still looked beautiful. Tears streamed down his face and when you focused more closely you could see that his lip would quiver every so often. It almost looked like he was reluctant to answer.

“I just. If I was quicker- if I had heard you yelling-”

“Hey, hey. Kento… Listen to me. You had no control over where those people were going to shoot. You can’t blame yourself for something you had no control over. As easy as it sounds I know it’s hard to accept it but we’re going to get better, okay? We’re going to be fine.” Your heart sank as those words flew out. That was probably the first time you have said that word and meant it. Even though you felt like crying, tears never came out. Nanami placed one of his hands over his eyes in attempt to shove his tears back into his eyes. You squeezed him into a hug.

Despite your husband’s feelings of guilt and sadness, for whatever reason after you said that your could feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. Like you needed to hear yourself say those five words out loud.

We’re going to be fine.

🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️🌧️

Omg I finally finished it. I am so sorry for the long wait. I have been working non stop even just rn as I write this I’m getting back from a 15hr shift. Gotta bring home the dough.

Anyways I hope you all enjoyed it, it is a little on the long side, but I think it’s good. 💕💕💕

[willtheweaver]

Writemas day 3

A happy day 3! And cheers for the tag @fantasy-things-and-such

Today’s prompt is: A dungeon

Night had caught Sigmund unawares. He had gotten lost on the way to town and was caught out in the open when the sun had set. This late in the season, the cold was a real killer. As the temperature dropped, he ran in search of any shelter. Luck seemed to be with him, for not far away was an abandoned fort. Sigmund dashed across the open plain. The great doors were unlocked and yielded without struggle.

Sigmund placed one foot over the threshold. The floor seemed sturdy enough. He then placed the second foot in front of the first. Nothing. On the third step, his foot broke through a rotted beam, and he fell through the floor and into the fort’s dungeon.

Sigmund cleared the rubble and brushed himself off. He could see that the dungeon was not entirely dark. One of the cells had been converted into a crude fireplace, and a fire was burning steadily. He barely had any time to ponder it all when a booming voice spoke.

“Well, well, another visitor had dropped by.”

Sigmund turned around and saw a grotesque troll in front of him. The great brute was twice as tall as he was.

“Uninvited, yet not unwelcome. No food have I tasted in many days.” Sigmund could see the troll smack his lips.

“Wait!” Sigmund screamed. “I have a proposition: a contest of riddles. Your wit against mine.”

Laughter like the crash of boulders echoed around the dungeon.

“Puny human, I’d like you to know that my own wit is a match for Loki himself. If I am to win, I will consume you, flesh and bone. Should you outwit me, I will let you live.”

“Deal.” Sigmund said without any hesitation. He knew that even the most untrustworthy trolls and dark elves were bound to unwritten laws of the game and would dare not cheat. Besides, he had played the game as a boy and he still remembered many riddles and brain teasers.

As the challenged, he was given the choice as to who would say the first riddle. As Sigmund couldn’t think of anything, he let the troll go first. This was his riddle:

What lies inside the horn of Thor, vast and unending. Though drunk every day, the mead always returns to the tankard’s rim.

Sigmund knew the answer immediately.

“The tides.” He said much to the disappointment of the troll. He then said his riddle.

As vast as the world serpent, yet smaller than dust. Measurable yet immeasurable. So worthless we waste it, yet so precious we give up anything for more of it.

The troll thought for a moment. He then let out a thunderous laugh.

“Time, the answer is.”

Back and forth the duel went. Sigmund lost track of time. He had just answered another riddle when he realized that he had gone through all the ones he knew. His head was blank. Nothing came to him.

“Have you got a riddle?” The troll’s voice was ominous. “If not, then I will take it that you forfeit, and I win this game.”

“A moment, if you please!” Sigmund was desperate to come up with a riddle. He racked his head until something came to him. Before the troll could even move, he blurted out the following:

Neither tinder nor flint does light this fire. Neither wood nor oil sustains it. Invisible, yet it is felt by all. It warms the heart, and makes even the meekest stand against all that faces him.

This was something the troll had not heard before. He growled and hissed, stamping his feet against the ground trying to find the answer.

“No…no…I never lose! I always know the answer!” The troll screamed. At that moment, the first light of dawn streamed through a high window and into the dank cellars. The troll had enough time for his anger to turn to fear before the light hit his skin, turning him to stone instantly.

Sigmund panted and sighed with relief. He walked up to the troll and let out a weary smile.

“The answer my friend, is Hope.”

Passing the torch to @wyked-ao3 @thatuselesshuman @an-indecisive-nerd @cowboybrunch @whatwewrotepodcast

@darkandstormydolls @thewritingautisticat @talesofsorrowandofruin @rivenantiqnerd @phoenixradiant and anyone who wants to join in!

[frogthane]

Okie, so it's been some time since I finished cyberpunk2077 - amazing game, loved it, perfect mix of story plus fuck around and find out - and the ending was... enlightening. Something crawled up from the depths of my foggy and paranoid brain and was released into the world. I knew instantly I was saving Johnny. It didn't matter to me that he had already lived his life, nor that there were people waiting for me back in the material world, nor that I was absolutely petrified of death. I looked up at Alt and a singular tear streamed down my face. I ignored Johnny's patronizing taunts aimed to sway me as I stepped towards the unknown.

I thought of Jackie, my closest choomba who's soul journeyed with me the entire way through his bike. Viktor, the person I had come to view as a father, I remembered the last time I saw him, how distraught and hopeless he'd seemed. Judy, a person who'd been buried underneath, secretly holding power over so many individuals who have yet to realize the full potential of braindances. River, the man so dedicated to saving his city he's willing to put his own needs aside. Panam, a woman willing to take the heat from allies if it means protecting her people, a brash human that harbours a sensitive soul. Kerry, a deeply broken individual who never learned to move on from his past and carries his story deep in his soul.

But then there was Johnny, still throwing nonchalant remarks in my direction, his voice still carrying to me. I hated placing that chip in my head, hated knowing I only had a mere few weeks left to live, hated that Johnny couldn't seem to give less of a fuck. Until he did. I had just lost Jackie, but Johnny unknowingly provided me with a new constant. He could be demeaning at times, he could be the embodiment (engram?) of peer pressure, lulling my body towards alcohol and cigarettes, but Johnny soon became necessary to my survival. He dragged me back to consciousness after a particularly bad bout. He helped think up plans, cautioned me against my idiotic tendencies. He spoke to me, a constant voice by my side, showing me a whole new world.

So yes, I crossed the bridge and stepped towards the metaverse. I didn't need this body anymore. Besides, even if I decided to go on, i would only have six months. Six months in a body that was no longer my own, but Johnny's. Not that that had any sway in my decision. No. Johnny had become the sole most important figure in my life, and I couldn't knowingly kill him. Despite it maybe just being a silly game, it was at that moment that I learned something about myself: I would gladly give up my own life if it meant saving someone I loved. Because yes, I loved Johnny.

Sure, it hurt hearing those messages from all my chooms from throughout the game, and walking down those carved walls of the cemetary were brutal, realizing I recognized a few of the names, but I stood by it. I left this world, and I witnessed those that mourned me. If Johnny had gone, nobody would have been left to miss him. No one but me. So now, I get to proudly watch him start a new life while giving chances to others along the way.

I couldn't be more at peace.

[peachycoreroo]

i was thinking, what about boys from haikyuu losing game and taking their anger on their s/o in bed to the point s/o is saying safe word, crying? if that's too much, just make them really angry, hurting s/o with words.

i was thinking about Suna, Kita and maybe Shirabu?

characters: suna rintarou, kita shinsuke, shirabu kenjirou

genre: smut, slight angst, fluff at the end

word count: 1.8k

warnings: fem!reader, angry boys, established relationships, spanking, one (1) face slap, choking, vaginal penetration, oral m!receiving, usage of ‘whore’, ‘bitch’ and ‘slut’, heavy degradation, semi-public sex, pretty harsh words are said, safe word is used

authors note: uuu this is my first darker piece for hq, but it does end in fluff!! i tweaked it so it fits the timeskip, but just a friendly reminder that this is pure fiction, your favs love you and would never hurt you<3 here's a link to my masterlist

pt.2: kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru, tsukishima kei

suna rintarou:

it wasn’t often that your boyfriend resorted to pounding the living shit out of you immediately when you had sex, usually opting for teasing you till you couldn’t take it anymore and begged him to fuck you or took the reins in your own hands and rode him till you were both shaking from overstimulation.

this time, was bad though.

the japanese national volleyball team just lost the finale of the olympics, resulting in them only getting the silver medal. no matter how amazing the second-place sounded, it still hit hard to miss the big gold by a hair.

just like how hard suna was currently hitting your ass, as he fucked into you in the empty changing room of the team. you only wanted to check on him when you saw how dejected he looked as he left the field with the team, when the tall brunet just ripped down your clothes and bent you over, fury dancing in his greenish eyes.

you knew how hard rintarou and his teammates worked for this. it was only natural they couldn’t celebrate. losing is still losing, no matter if you’re getting a medal.

“f-fuck, rin, it hurts”, you wailed, tears already streaming down your face from the full-force slaps that were delivered to your sore ass cheeks. being bent over with only the locker in front of you and sunas’ hands on your hips as a leverage to not fall face first on the floor, slowly took a troll on your tired body. it also didn’t help that your legs were barely able to keep you up with how powerful his thrusts were.

“shut the fuck up and take it, worthless whore”, he growled furiously, thrusts only increasing in speed, and a hand sneaking to your front, wrapping itself around your neck. the cruel comments that usually caused your cunt to flutter and eyes roll back, suddenly made your heart sink.

you knew he was angry at being defeated by the opposing team and not at you, but you couldn’t stop the heavy feeling in your chest, or the tears that seemed to multiply at his cold remark.

when the adjustment of his hips caused him to hammer his fat tip painfully against your cervix and his hand tightened harshly around your throat, your knees gave out and you tried to scream only for nothing to come out of your mouth.

“useless, fucking bitch, can’t even stand upright. why do i even keep you around?” he aggressively huffed, not paying any attention to your comfort. you couldn’t take this anymore.

your body went completely limp, as you whispered a small, choked ‘silk’, not even being sure if he heard, when his mind was so clouded by rage.

but he did. and his heart painfully clenched when he recognized the hurt tone in your voice, instantly letting go of your bruised throat and ceasing his thrusts.

guilt filled him as he pulled out and finally looked at you to see you sobbing uncontrollably, arms wrapping protectively around your form as if you were afraid of him hurting you.

“hey… hey, y/n, sweetie, look at me.” suna’s gentle tone had you looking up at him, your vision blurry as your pained expression met his tender one.

“’m s-sorry i couldn’t help you, r-rin’. ‘m sorry y-you lost”, you stuttered out helplessly.

here you were, crying and in pain, but still thinking about him. the brunet was sure he didn’t deserve you.

“no, i’m sorry, pretty. i got carried away”, the tall volleyball player whispered softly, his large palms cupping your cheeks, “i love you and i never want to hurt you. please, forgive me.”

the guilt etched into his handsome face showed you just how bad he really felt, your lips lifting in a small smile. “’s ok, rin’. i love you too.”

the tall male breathed out a sigh of relief as he embraced you tightly and kissed your forehead. suna rintarou would never get carried away like this again. that, he promised himself.

kita shinsuke:

when kita got home, all dejected and upset because some assholes decided to trash grandma yumie’s precious crops in the darkness of the night, you opened your arms with love and understanding. what you didn’t expect however, as you asked how you could help, was to end up on your knees with your boyfriend abusing your throat for what felt like hours.

your knees were aching from the uncomfortable position on the hardwood floor, throat painfully contracting around his thick length as he pounded your mouth as if it were your cunt, jaw hurting from holding it open for so long.

you felt like you would pass out any minute, and while normally kita would immediately sense any of your slightest mood shifts when you were being intimate, he didn’t this time.

where there was usually a caring boyfriend who wouldn’t take his gaze of your face and always asked if you’re doing okay, was a guy who had a far away look on his frowning face, only using you as an outlet for his anger.

the white-black haired male was almost scarily quiet, only occasional grunts and growls escaping his lips. your gurgling and gagging sounds as he hit the back of your throat with every forceful thrust were painful to listen to, and you couldn’t wrap your head around your boyfriend not realizing what he was doing to you.

as tears streamed down your numb face, you weren’t able to stop your teeth from grazing his fat cock, your throbbing jaw not cooperating with your brain anymore.

kita let out an animalistic growl as he pulled out of your wet mouth at once, a sudden slap to your tender cheek startling you.

“you asked how to help and you’re doing exactly that, but can’t even do that for me, huh?���, he spat almost hostilely.

the hurtful words, the harsh slap and the rage painted on his usually calm and kind face made your heart ache, as you sobbed out a ‘peach! shin’, please! peach!’

kita suddenly felt as if he awoke from a hypnosis, when he heard you cry out your safe word. as his -now clear- gaze fell on you, he couldn’t help his chest from painfully tightening. you only offered to help, and he’s gone and hurt you like never before.

falling on his knees in front of you, he pulled you into his strong arms, rocking you both side to side as he apologetically murmured ‘i’m so sorry, angel’ and ‘i love you’ over and over again into your messy hair.

“m’ okay, shinsuke. just wanted to help", you sniffled against his chest, making kita close his eyes out of pure shame that he did that to you.

“let’s get you into the bathtub and i’ll cook your favorite, how does that sound love?”, he whispered softly, as if afraid that any of his next movements would make you break.

the next few weeks you barely got to do anything, kita shinsuke always glued to your side and immediately taking over any task that was thrown at you.

shirabu kenjirou:

being a med student was fucking exhausting. shirabu had spent months writing a very important thesis about certain brain tumors on newborns, only for his professor to give him a c. something about it not being detailed enough.

“fuck you”, shirabu spat as he was sitting in front of the fire place in your shared apartment, throwing all 80 pages of the “not detailed” dissertation into the fire.

“ken’? what are you doing?”

“burning this fucking nightmare. ’m gonna drop out, fuck this shit”, he almost growled furiously. coming up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, leaning down to ask lowly: “you want a better way to deal with your anger?”

that’s how you found yourself bent over his lap with your panties dangling at your ankles. the spanking wasn’t new, your boyfriend being super pissed while doing so, was.

the first few slaps went as usual with you clenching around nothing and enjoying the rubs to the tender flesh shirabu hit a few seconds prior. after, it suddenly went downhill.

all at once, the soft caresses ceased to a stop, his calloused palm from years of playing volleyball coming down on your ass with full force and the copper-haired man spewing some of the most degrading stuff you’ve ever heard.

“fucking slut, getting off to this. you like it when i use you to let out my anger? i’m having a hard time while you’re just being a horny, selfish fucktoy”.

at the last sentence, you froze. did he really think you were using him? you only wanted to help, but his cold words continued. “gonna beat your ass till it’s sore and aching, you won’t be able to sit without remembering what a useless fucking girlfriend you were while i needed support.”

the logical part of your brain knew, that your boyfriend didn’t mean it. the anger got the best of him, and he just threw around accusations like he wished he could do at his asshole of a prof.

but the bigger, sensitive part of your brain convinced you that he meant every single hurtful word. you weren’t even hearing what derogatory stuff was spilling from his lips anymore, vision blurry and ears ringing from the pain you felt in your chest as well as your ass cheeks.

was this your fault? was it wrong to try and help? maybe you should’ve given him some space.

a particularly hard spank brought you back to reality, suddenly tasting the salty wetness of your tears seeping into your mouth as you cried out a loud ‘pumpkin!”, trying to push yourself out of his lap and landing on the floor with a loud ‘thud’ as his hands instantly let you go.

shirabu could only look at you wide-eyed when he saw how you were choking on your sobs and crawling backwards, just to get away from him.

“please don’t hit me anymore!”, were the words, that would haunt kenjirou for the rest of his life. he could feel himself tear up when it hit him what he did to you, his precious girlfriend, just because he was angry at a prof.

“baby, i- please i would never hit you like that on purpose, i- “, the male felt his throat tighten up and with a quiet sniffle he embraced you tightly, craving the warmth of your body. “forgive me, i love you so much, please don’t go.”

as you started to calm down, your arms wrapped themselves around him, wanting to be close to him as well, because no matter what, he was your biggest comfort and you still loved him.

“’m not going anywhere, kenji’. just… please don’t do that ever again”, you murmured against his temple.

“never.”

[harleysarchive]

Among You and Me - Corpse Husband x reader oneshot

Fandom: Corpse Husband, youtubers Warning: Swearing, me being in a good mood when I wrote it so a happy, positive reader, alcohol, hangovers, comfidence boost Pairing: Corspe x reader Summary: You got some extra confidence after having a couple of drinks and write a message to Corpse during his live stream, he answeres you messages and everything continues from there.

Next >

A/N: I was in a super good mood when I started to write this and it shows, I’m sorry if it’s annoying and I don’t know if it’s shit but yeaah. Enjoy! :D

You were watching Corpse Husbands stream among us and was just having a good time. You had had a couple of drinks before the stream so you were in such a great mood. You melted every time he laughed because he couldn’t do the card swipe and just thought of how adorable he was. In your intoxicated mindset you got a confidence boost and opened the stream chat and also instagram. In the stream chat you donated 10$ and wrote “you are the most adorable person on this planet and you deserve the world! Thank you for exciting, love y/n” and hit enter, and also doing the same on Instagram on private messages.

He won’t see that, you thought to yourself and turned on some music to match your good mood and after a while forgetting about your stream that was on. Some days life is just great!

You had fallen asleep and woke up with a hangover, all the positive feelings you had yesterday were gone and now you just wanted to stay in bed all there with some aspirins. Looking at your phone seeing that nothing interesting had happened. You were scrolling through your feed on instagram and saw that you had an unanswered message. You opened it and saw that it was from Corpse.

You flew up in your bed and were staring at your phone.

I can’t believe he answered me, you said. Your hands were shaking and you were too nervous to open the message. Maybe he was annoyed with you for messaging him. Nooo he seems like a nice guy so I don’t think he is.

You opened the message and it read:

“Thank you for your kind words! I saw your donation and the message, means a lot 🖤”

You buried your face into the pillow and screamed for all that you were worth. He answered. You also felt ridiculous for reacting like this but there is no hindering the fangirl when she is out.

Your fingers were shaking but you wanted to reply so badly.

“Thank you! I can’t believe that you actually answered or noticed my message, it made my day honestly. Can’t wait for more content from you!” You hit send and left the bed. You had things to do today and if you were home you were only going to look at your phone all day to see if he would answer you. So to not get tempted you left your phone at home.

You came back to your apartment in the afternoon and we’re dying to check your messages. So you unlocked your phone and went straight to messages. Nothing. You felt a pang of disappointment but you tried to not dwell on it. He had probably many girls messaging him how much they love him and so on. You went to the kitchen and started to cook some dinner. But when you were preparing some vegetables you got a ding from your phone. You went over and saw that you had a message on Instagram. From Corpse. Your heart first stopped and then sped up like crazy. He answered you again! Wtf?!

“That's so kind of you to say, thank you! There will be a new stream tomorrow :)”

“Omg I’m gonna die” you said. Well if you died now you would be okay with it because you had been noticed by Corpse not once but twice.

“Yay can’t wait! I will be glued to the screen!” You answered and immediately felt embarrassed by your response.

Two days later you were waiting for the stream to begin. You had bought some of your favorite ice-cream in honor for tonight. The stream started and you heard Corpse say multiple times that he was super nervous and a shitty impostor. You felt your heart melt for him, he is so sweet and precious. You donated money to him and wrote “you don’t have to be nervous, you are doing great! It’s super entertaining! Love y/n” and hit send. You saw your donation in the chat.

“”you don’t have to be nervous, you are doing great! It’s super entertaining! Love (y/n)” thank you (y/n), that means a lot to hear right now. And I remember your picture from Instagram. Nice to see that you are watching the stream.”

The ice-cream you were about to eat dropped to the floor and you just sat there with an open mouth. He remembered your picture. HE FUCKING REMEMBERED YOUR PICTURE!

The rest of the stream was a fog in your memory because you were still stuck on the moment that he remembered you from your profile picture. Nothing could top that. Nothing. When the stream ended you turned of your computer and were of to bed. But there was no way in hell that you were going to fall alseep after something like that. Your phone lit up again and you saw that you had a new message from instagram. You opened up the app and it was from Corpse!

“I hope you liked the stream today :)” he wrote and again your heart raced like crazy. 

“I did it was super entertaining to watch! I think you are an incredible impostor.” you hit send. Not long after you got a reply.

“Thanks, I am very nervous during the streams and I hope that is not annoying or it bothering those who are watching it.”

“Not at all, well at least for me. I think it makes you more genuine when you confess that you can get nervous even though you are a big youtuber 😊”

 “Well I’m not a big youtuber... but it’s nice to read all your kind words in the chat. It makes me happy.”

“I’m glad that we can help you feel better, and I mean every word I’m sending you.”

You saw that he started to reply, but you had to go to sleep so you turn off the phone and closed your eyes. Surprisingly enough you fell asleep quite quickly, and woke up by the sun hitting your face. Fall has jsut begun and the leaves were turning every beautiful colour of red, yellow and orange. When you brain had woken up more you remembered that Corpse had started to reply to your message. You quickly grabbed your phone and went on instagram. A new message, 8 hours ago. 

Shit, you thought and opened it. It was just a smiley face and nothing else. A little disappointed but then you saw the conversation that the two of you had had. You actually talked to him and he had replied instantly. Your brain must’ve given you some weird confidence and stable fingers at that moment. You didn’t really know what to reply so you just let it be and you didn’t want to annoy him with spamming his dm’s either - but you really, really wanted to.

Corpse POV.

Another day and another sleepless night. That is just my life right now. But the streams helped them make it a little less agonizing. Especially the nice comments I get from everyone and the conversation I had with one of the fans. What was her name again? (Y/N). Right. I wonder if she has answered my message.

I opened up instagram and opened our conversation. Read but no answer. To be fair I only sent a smiley to her. But... Why am I feeling so anxious that she left me on read?

“Yooo, care to hang out today?” Dave sent a message. I answered with a sure and locked my phone and waited for Dave to arrive to my house. But my mind kept on going back to why she didn’t answer me back. Well I know why, but I didn’t like that the conversation were over so quick. 

Dave entered my house and we hung out for a while but he could sense that something was bothering me.

“Hey man, you okay?”

I snapped out of my thought and looked at him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Except from the usual shit.”

“You sure? You seem a little... lost in thoughts perhaps? Is something bothering you?”

I took a deep breath and shook my head.

“Not even the kind girl from your streams?” he asked with a knowing smirk on his face. I lost all the colour on my face. HOW DID HE KNOW?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Not even that you recognized her picture from instagram? Like that you haven’t talked to her there?”

Fuck...

“Who is she?”

“A fan that contacted me and were very kind with her words. And I replied to her and after that we have been messaging each other here and there... but she left me on read last night so I guess that’s over...”

“What did you say to her?”

“I sent a smiley because I was too nervous to say anything else.”

Dave made the biggest and loudest face palm. It must’ve hurt his head. 

“You idiot... You can’t expect a reply if you only send her a smiley...”

“I know, but I got nervous.”

“Are you following her?”

“No... Not yet at least.” I said and took up my phone again and went on her profile. It was private. Of course. I hoovered over the follow button but I didn’t dare to press it. Dave gave me a thumbs up and I pressed the follow button. 

Your POV.

You were watching a Among Us highlight video on youtube when your instagram told you that you had a notification. You opened it and saw that Corpse had requested an invite to follow your profile. CORPSE WANTED TO FOLLOW YOU. Holyshitholyshitholyshit. What is even happening?! Of course you accepted it and you started to type a message to him. 

“Welcome to my little boring world. Hope you like what you see 😅”

You could see him typing something.

“I very much do ;)”

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this and I couldn’t stop. It was difficult to get started but after that it was fun :D 

TAGS:

@fanworrior @wibblytimey

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 2)

(part 1)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 3k

chapter warnings: kinda smut? (male masturbation), stalking (not bucky lol), a bit a violence, angst

It had been a month.  Well, 29 days, to be exact; he’d been counting them.  29 days since he’d seen so much more than he was supposed to, and he was pretty sure you’d seen him too.  29 days of tense silence as he wondered if you were ever going to say anything about it.

It must have been that you hadn’t seen him, if you hadn’t said anything for so long.  But god, it really did feel like you were looking right into his eyes as you came that night.  He knew the reality was that it was a horrible mistake and he was a terrible person for looking at you like that, and that he was never going to be any closer to you than watching someone else pleasure you; he knew that truly.  But regardless, that moment had been playing on repeat in his mind for 29 days.

And now, as he took his shower, he prepared to finish off day 29 and start day 30.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, head falling back against the cool tile as his hand stroked slowly over his cock.  He’d dreamt about you (again) and woken up so hard that it actually hurt; so this wasn’t a continuation of his perversion, or his unhealthy obsession, no, it was pain relief.  It was medicine, really.

In his dream, like always, it had been him between your legs in the back of the car and not that other guy— who he’d seen on TV the other day, dying in the first five minutes of an episode of some awful CW drama, by the way.  It killed him that he couldn’t know how you really taste, or how you really would sound saying his name, but the best guess of his subconscious would have to do.  He tried to conjure in his mind how you sounded that night, each frame of the memory burned into his brain until it was what he saw every time it closed his eyes.

Baby.

That was what you’d said first, and it still made his heart stop every time it echoed in his head.  Baby.

The word itself was sort of innocuous, but it was the way you said it— just below your breath, deep but airy— and what it meant.  It was a plea: you were begging him to touch you, to make you feel good, to help you.  Bucky could listen to you beg for hours, it would be like music to his ears; like poetry, even.  

Later that night, when he’d given you the rest of his sandwich, he’d gotten the closest he ever would to hearing you moan his name.  What you’d said originally was just ‘oh my god, Bucky, this is so good’ and it was just generic enough that he could imagine it being a little more specific.  Sure, it was stupid to get off on memories of you praising a sandwich (that you ate while drunk in the shower) but it still did wonders for him as his hand pumped his length faster and faster.

Oh my god, Bucky, it feels so good— you feel so good.  You’re so good.  Oh my god, Bucky—

He bit down on his lip, already so close to the edge that there was no turning back, toes curling underneath the stream of hot water as his breathing moved just as quick as his thoughts— thoughts of you in the back of the car, or in the shower with your foggy silhouette just barely visible to him, or doing all sorts of things that he’d never seen you do but he’d love to pretend he had.  

“Oh my god, Bucky!” you yelled as you swung open the door, a choked moan jumping out of his throat in shock as his eyes shot open, come starting to spill down over his hand.

You couldn’t see him through his shower curtain, thank all that’s holy, but it was a sort of sensory overload as he tried to process what was going on mid-orgasm.

“What?!” he yelped, voice clearly rougher but hopefully not in a way you would find suspicious.

“Come quick,” you requested.

Already did, he thought to himself with a shudder of guilt.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s somebody in the yard,” you explained frantically, “it’s probably nothing, but I don’t know how they got past the gate—”

Your mitigation was lost to him as he was already turning off the flow of water, the evidence of his misdeed already washed away, leaving only the ringing in his ears and the burning in his cheeks as reminders.

You stepped out into the hall to give him just enough privacy to slip on a robe, which he was certain he looked ridiculous in but he really had no choice.  Storming out of the bathroom, he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront a potential threat while dripping wet and barefoot, but the whole point of him living here most of the week was so he could keep you safe at all times— apparently, shower time included.  

“Stay inside,” he instructed you quickly, “and stay out of the line of sight of any windows and doors, got it?” 

You nodded, and he could tell you were scared.  He hated that you had to worry about this sort of stuff.  He was glad to be there to help, yes, but he would rather this line of work didn’t need to exist at all even if it put him out of a job.  You waited for him there as he pushed past you and moved through the living room, considering whether or not he should grab a weapon from the safe he kept hidden in this room— but then he glanced to his left arm, drying quicker than the rest of him, and remembered he already had a weapon.

By the time he reached the door he could hear someone shouting your name outside.  As Bucky flipped on the damn-near-blinding security light on your porch and entered the yard, he saw a guy— smaller than him, but not exactly tiny— who seemed to ignore him and the light completely as he continued his desperate attempts to get your attention.  

“This is private property, you need to leave,” Bucky told the man in his best ‘stern but not quite yelling’ voice. 

“Is she home?” he asked him instead, totally unfazed by the warning.  As the fan looked back up and called your name again, Bucky shivered with the realization that he was looking up at your bedroom window.  Had he already seen you there?  Or, worse, did he have some other way of knowing which window was your bedroom?

“You need to get out of here before I call the police.  You’re trespassing,” Bucky continued, pushing the man back towards the gate.  Sadly, Bucky knew from experience the police weren’t that concerned about celebrity stalkers— you and him had both called to no avail once they learned the name of the homeowner.  It made his blood boil just to think about it.

“Hey, let go of me!” the man resisted, pushing Bucky back.  He seemed to sober up a bit when Bucky’s face changed, though, but it was too late.  He tried to duck but totally missed, and Bucky’s right fist made contact with his jaw.  “Ow!” he screeched, cowering and trying to cover his face.  “What the fuck?!  That’s assault— you just assaulted me!”

“And you’re trespassing.  And harassing.  And probably stalking,” Bucky listed, continuing to guide the man back towards the gate.  “Tell me how you got in here.  Did you hop the fence?”

He couldn’t go any further back as the man was pressed back against a stone column, squirming a bit but otherwise putting up little fight— or maybe he was actually trying his best, and it was just lost on someone as strong as Bucky.  

Unamused by his stammering and lack of an answer, Bucky brought his metal fist to the column right beside the man’s face, hitting hard enough to break off a sizable chunk of the stone.  “Tell me!” he demanded.

“There’s a tree out back, I climbed it!” he explained with a whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t come back here, you hear me?  Or this—” Bucky pointed to the dent in the column that he’d made— “will be your face!”

Letting him go and swinging open the gate a bit, the man ran away of his own volition, stumbling down the street and out of the glowing light of the streetlamps.  Bucky let out a low sigh, hoping it was the last of him but terrified that it wouldn’t be.  He made a mental note to call a landscaper about trimming this mysterious tree in the back, or maybe chopping it down altogether, as he made his way back inside.  He found you in the living room, chewing your nails nervously and watching him step closer with wide, watery eyes.

“He’s gone,” Bucky informed you quickly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

“Um, yeah,” you decided, but you didn’t seem so confident.  Even so, he wasn’t sure what more he could do.  

“Oh, I broke your pillar, by the way.  Sorry.”

“I saw that,” you smiled a little, but he frowned.

“I told you to stay out of sight of the windows,” he reminded you.

You sighed.   “I know, I know, I just…” you trailed off, lip quivering a little as you got emotional again.  “I know it’s stupid but—”

“No, don’t say that,” he interjected.

“— but I was so scared,” you finished, voice wavering as you ran towards him, suddenly pulling him into a tight hug.  It took him by surprise, but he figured it was okay to hug you back.  He was only wearing a robe, he suddenly remembered, and your face was against the exposed portion of his bare chest.  If he hadn’t gotten off just minutes ago, he certainly would’ve gotten hard just from that (embarrassingly enough).

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed gently, indulging himself in resting his chin on top of your head as he stroked your hair.  

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his skin, pulling him even closer, “god, I don’t even know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here.”

A pang of guilt rattled in his chest; you trusted him so completely and he was crushing on you, spying on you (only the once, but still), taking advantage of your need for protection, staying in your guest bedroom and jerking off to you in your shower— when had he turned into an unstoppable pervert?

“Will you stay in my room tonight?” you asked him suddenly, looking up at him with those big shiny eyes and a pouty lip.

“Oh nonononono,” he shook his head, instantly recognizing that trap.

“No, Bucky, please,” you whimpered, “that guy might come back, I don’t want you all the way across the house.”

“I shouldn’t— I’d be overstepping—” he stammered.

“Please,” you sighed, and he sighed too, because when you said it like that, he couldn’t say no to you.

//

Bucky had insisted on staying on the floor as opposed to getting up on your bed, which was a drag but whatever.  At least you had a lot of good spare blankets and pillows to make him a comfy-looking pallet.  He seemed to agree when he appeared behind you in the doorway to find you on your knees on the floor, putting it all together.

“You didn’t need to do that, I’m pretty good at sleeping on floors as-is,” he dismissed.

“No, I’m happy to!” you beamed, turning around and choking a bit when you looked up at him in his pajamas.  Even though they were still pretty conservative, specifically sweats and a scoop neck sweater-y sort of top, it was probably more than you’d ever seen of him since his uniform was very concealing.  You were kind of hoping to catch a glimpse of his metal hand— you didn’t get to see it much because he wore driving gloves the vast majority of the time, and you hadn’t really been paying attention when it was exposed earlier by his just being in a robe— but he was noticeably leaning against the doorframe in such a way that you couldn’t see it.  The thing that really got a reaction out of you was his dog tags, though; you’d never seen him wear them before and there was something perfect about the way the silver chain dangled over the slight peek of collarbone visible above his neckline.  “Aren’t you warm wearing that much to bed?”

“No, it’s fine,” he dismissed.  You hoped he wasn’t wearing more just for your benefit.  Shirtlessness would’ve benefited you more, certainly.  In fact, now you felt kind of bad that you were just wearing a thin, silky short-and-tank set.  Hopefully it didn’t make him uncomfortable.

Getting up from the floor, you slipped under your covers and motioned for him to do the same.  He turned off your lamp first, stealing your last chance at a good view of the hand, and you heard him get comfortable on the floor.

“Thank you for this,” you mumbled quickly into the darkness.  “I don’t think I’d be able to fall asleep if you weren’t in here.

“Oh, of course,” he replied softly.  

“Goodnight,” you whispered.

“Goodnight,” he answered back, and his low, sleepy voice was somehow both soothing and energizing.

You weren’t sure if you even tried to fall asleep, or how long you laid staring out into the void of the darkness.  It was so dark in your room that you saw purple spots dancing in the corners like static as your eyes adjusted, incomprehensible shapes forming to make up for the lack of visual stimulation.  You wished that there was enough ambient light to be able to see Bucky’s shape on the floor and know he was there; instead, you settled for the subtle sound of his slow breathing.  When you heard him adjust slightly, you decided maybe just the breathing wasn’t enough to be sure it was really safe.

“Bucky?” you whispered under your breath.  “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” he answered, making you sigh with relief.

“I can’t sleep.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to sleep if I wasn’t here.”

“But I never said you being here would make me sleep,” you pointed out.

“Then I should go,” he decided.

“No, please,” you hissed, “don’t go.”

“Okay.”

You took a deep breath.  “Tell me something,” you requested.

“Tell you what?”

“I don’t know, anything.”

He paused for a moment.  “Will it help you sleep?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Bucky sighed, and you heard him turn on his side.  “Want me to tell you a bedtime story?” he asked, sarcasm noticeable even in a whisper.

“Yes,” you announced with a smile.

“Okay,” he pondered, “um… once upon a time—”

“Good start,” you rolled your eyes.

“No interrupting!” he scolded.

“Sorry…”

“Anyways, once upon a time there was a princess, who lived in a castle in the Isle of Manhattan.”

“A castle?” you asked excitedly.

“A somewhat modest castle, but yes.  One with big golden gates and marble columns.  The princess didn’t live all alone in her castle though— at least, not all the time.  She had many royal attendants, and servants, and plenty of friends of course.  But the problem with being a beautiful, kind, generous princess is that sometimes people get too friendly and want to visit her in the castle when she’d rather be alone.  Thankfully, the princess had a last line of defense—”

“Let me guess, a knight in shining armor?”  Or more like knight with shining arm.

“Wish I could say so,” he disagreed.  “No, this princess needed something a little fiercer, and that was why a dragon guarded the castle.”

“A dragon?!”

“Mhmm.  A big, scary dragon with sharp teeth and big wings, that breathed fire on anyone who got in his way.  The thing about knights is that they’re noble, and handsome, and righteous.  But righteousness prevents people from doing bad things, and sometimes bad things need to be done to protect good things.  So, knights can’t protect princesses like they should.  That’s what dragons are for.  They’re mean and nasty— it’s their nature, after all— and sometimes you need somebody burnt up, so you call a dragon and he’ll deal with it for you.  And this dragon was the meanest and nastiest of them all, and he’d burnt a lot of people in his time.  Oddly enough, the princess was still nice to him, but she had a lot of knights and princes and kings who wanted her hand.  Good thing the dragon was there to pick off the worst ones.”

You giggled a little, even though your heart was racing.

“The dragon watched over the castle every night— well, five nights a week… cause the princess wanted weekends to herself— but, still, he was very dedicated and did his best to keep her safe.  Sometimes he would take her to whatever lavish ball she had been invited to that week; she would ride on his back as he flew there, even though he was pretty scared she would fall off or something.  And sometimes…”

Your breath caught at the pause, waiting anxiously for what would come next.  

“Sometimes the dragon wished he wasn’t a monster.  But if he wasn’t a monster, then he couldn’t keep her safe.  So, he resigned himself to a life outside the castle, because at least he could be near her— even if she was impossibly far away.”

You swallowed as you tried to process it, finding yourself at a complete loss for words.

“The end,” he whispered gently, before giving you a goodnight and saying your name in a way that he’d never said it before— at least, you’d never heard him say it that way before.  But you really, really hoped you’d get to hear it again.  You did manage to fall asleep eventually, dreaming about flying and wishing you didn’t have to wake up.

[sincerelyella]

Everything Has Changed Chapter 9 - Butterflies

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Song Inspiration: Butterflies by MAX & Ali Gate

Pairings: past Liam x MC (Ella); Drake x OC

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

Summary: What if Liam was promised as a child to another kingdom’s princess?

A/N: Sorry for this taking forever guys, thanks for pestering me about this chapter!

Catch up here -> EHC masterlist

Thank you @ofpixelsandscribbles and @alyssalauren​ for prereading! Y’all know I get nervous before posting anything. Love you!

Warnings: Angst; fluff

Words: 1428

I won't stop getting butterflies, I get 'em every time I look into your eyes

You won't stop running through my mind, For the rest of both our lives

You give me butterflies

Liam, now 13 years old, was introduced to the court as the Prince of Cordonia. His father insisted that a ball needed to be thrown and whatever Constantine wanted, he got. Liam spoke with some of the court with his father and then sat in the corner of the ballroom and played a dice game with Tariq. Now and then, he would look up and try to find 10-year-old Ella in the crowded room. She was with her parents that night and wore a royal blue floor-length gown with tulle and a rhinestone belt that shone in the bright lights. She’s really pretty.

“Hello? Earth to Liam! It’s your turn,” Tariq pushed the dice into the young prince’s hand. “Who are you staring at?”

“Nobody,” he mumbled and tossed the dice against the wall. 

The boys played for a few moments until Liam heard a little voice.

“Prince Liam.”

He looked up and saw Ella smiling down at him. “Hello, Princess.”

Ella playfully curtsied. They both giggled.

“May I dance with the Prince of Cordonia tonight?”

“I suppose I have time,” he turned to Tariq. “See you later, my friend.”

Tariq waved at both of them and the two turned and walked towards the dance floor.

Ella’s little arm was curled through Liam’s. “So, are we doing the Flamingo?”

Liam let out a loud laugh. “Our parents would not find that appropriate.”

They turned to face each other, Liam putting his hand on the small of her back and holding her right hand in his left. As soon as the Prince and Princess began to glide across the dance floor, the entire court stepped back to watch them. Royalty was always expected to learn to perfect the art of dance at a young age, but these two held everyone’s attention. They danced like grown adults that had been doing this for years.

“Everyone is staring at us,” Ella whispered as she gazed into Liam’s eyes.

“No, they’re staring at you,” Liam had always noticed Ella’s almond-shaped, light brown eyes, how they lightened under the sun, how they darkened and turned almost grey when she cried. This time, however, her eyes were almost green. Liam felt a fluttering in his chest, then it moved to his stomach. Am I hungry? He had never felt this sensation before. “Did you know that your eyes change colors?”

Their movements were practiced and natural, elegant in every way. They didn’t even need to think about what came next, their bodies already in sync. Ella shook her head. “Nobody has stared at my eyeballs long enough to know.”

Liam chuckled softly. “Well, they do. They’re really pretty - you’re really pretty.”

Ella bit her bottom lip. “Thank you, Prince Liam.”

“I’m not telling you as a prince, El,” Liam swallowed nervously. “I mean, I am. I think you’re beautiful,” he stammered. “But I’m also telling you as a boy. As Liam.” The fluttering was back, this time he felt it everywhere, his chest, his stomach; he felt the tingling in his fingers as he held her hand, emptiness when she let go of him to twirl under his arm.

“You’re very sweet,” Ella’s cheeks turned a rosy pink color. “Thank you, you’re very handsome too.”

Present-day

Liam and Ella stared at each other - both trying to decide if this was real or just a dream. He felt the butterflies flutter in his chest just like he did the first time he danced with her all those years ago.

Liam was the first to break the reverie and took a tentative step forward. “Can we … talk?” He was overcome with emotion but kept his stoic facade in place.

Ella nodded, unable to form words.

Liam quickly took her hold of her arm and gently led her to the VIP area where it was darker and a bit quieter. Security let the two by and Liam slid towards the back of the booth, Ella following.

They turned to look at each other and began talking at once.

“Are you here?” “Oh my God, it’s you!”

Liam couldn’t help himself, he had to touch her. He still got butterflies when he looked at her. Even when they were kids, the love he felt never went away. If anything, it got stronger as the years went by. Liam gently cupped her cheek and he let out an audible gasp. “You’re real,” he whispered.

Ella leaned into his hand, relishing in how her feelings for him came back all at once; it hit her like a freight truck. When she locked eyes with him by the bar, her heart stopped for a moment. “I’m real,” she whispered back.

“Where … have you … been? I looked … for you,” Liam was crying now, a slow, steady stream of tears trickled down his cheeks. Four years. Four years of missing her, afraid for her, not knowing where she was. Almost believing that she had died with her family.

Ella’s cheeks were already wet with her tears; she could barely speak. “We … were attacked,” she closed her eyes to try to keep her breathing normal but she couldn’t.

“Shhh,” Liam whispered as he leaned in to kiss his long-lost love. The salt from their tears mixed when their lips met; it was like everything they both had endured in these four years apart was worth it. Liam pulled back and wiped her tears away with his thumb. “What happened, Ella?”

“They took … over our kingdom. Killed … my mom,” Ella cried. “My name is … different … for protection.”

Liam put his forehead against hers and they stayed that way for several minutes. Both crying, both trying to get their emotions under control, otherwise this conversation would never happen.

“What is your name now?”

Ella gave him a small smile. “My name is Ellie Wheeler.”

Liam sat back and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie, my name is Liam.”

Ella let out a giggle and put her hand in his. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Liam softly kissed her knuckles and took in her scent. The coconut and lavender instantly hit his brain and he felt drunk off of it. “So, Ellie, you’re here in L.A., what about your kingdom?”

“Hey!”

The two turned to see Riya staring at them with an arm in the air. “What are you doing in there, El? And who is that?!”

“Is that your friend?” Liam noted that he saw her at the bar, in her red jumper.

“Oh, yes that’s Riya,” Ella waved and Liam nodded to security that it was fine to let her in. Drake, who was still at the bar looking for Liam, heard what was going on and made his way to the VIP section.

Riya huffed and placed her hands on her hips. “You ditched me to hang out with” - she motioned to Liam - “this snack?!” She studied him intently, then her eyes widened in shock. “Oh my God, you’re Liam!”

“Brooks?!” Drake exclaimed from behind Riya as he stared in shock.

“Hey, Drake,” Ella grinned sheepishly.

“Why is he calling you Brooks?” Riya demanded.

“Who are you?” Riya and Drake had turned to face each other as they spoke at the same time.

Liam stood from his seat and waved his hands in the air. “Okay, timeout! There’s a lot of explaining to do. Can you both please sit down?” He gestured for them to join him “They have the same scowl and both are drinking whiskey,” Liam whispered to Ella quickly before their friends slid into the booth.

Ella clapped a hand over her mouth to stop her giggles.

“Okay,” Drake quipped as he set his tumbler down onto the table. “So, what’s going on?”

Ella explained what happened at the palace four years ago, how her father’s men had tried to kill her family, taken over the country, and that she fled to California with her dad.

“Damn, I’m so sorry about your mom, Brooks,” Drake lifted his glass in the air as a salute and knocked it back. “Alright, so is the arrangement off then?”

Ella’s nose crinkled. “Arrangement?”

Liam’s eyes showed remorse as he turned to look at Ella. “Ah, well … I have something I need to tell you.”

[malfoyheartsgranger]

Love You Through It

Summary: In which George Weasley tries to spare his lover.

A/N: I thought this fic was going to go in a very different direction, but as I wrote, I just . . . well, kept writing. And as I did, the story changed in my mind, and this is the product. Don’t even know what else to say.

Warnings: mentions of death, argument, food

Word Count: 3.7k

. . .

George Weasley had not been the same since the war.

This was to be expected, of course. His best friend, his twin brother, had been killed, and how could he possibly be the same with his other half missing?

The short answer was that he could not.

The long answer, however—the real answer,—was that he really did try. For weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, George Weasley thought for sure he would never be happy again. His joke shop was mere metres below his own feet at every moment, and yet he could never bring himself to down the flight of stairs leading to the shop. Instead, someone else took care of the logistics and cancelled the coming inventory when she realized Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes would not be back in business for quite a while. This was the same person who made sure George always had a glass of water on his bedside table and who checked in on him every hour or so just to see if he had found the energy to wake. Each morning, she slipped into George’s room from her temporary sleeping spot on the living room couch, and spread open the curtains that she had drawn the night before, just in case George awoke and reached for the sunlight. In the early days, she did not realize just how long it would be until he would do so.

. . .

It was May 29 of 1998, twenty-seven days after George had lost Fred, when he realized this wonderful woman, his beautiful Y/N, had lost people too. George fancied himself a relatively empathetic person, but in the pain of losing his brother, he had forgotten that his girlfriend deserved the same care she had gifted to him. She never had a chance to mourn: since day one, it was her providing for George, and he was too consumed with his own grief to see it. However, when George awoke on that morning near the end of such a terrible month, he saw the clothes laid out and the window cracked open for what they truly were: Y/N’s love.

She had known not to push him in the beginning. Perhaps just the suggestion of a shower here and there, or an offer of dinner. But recently things had been different. She knew what George needed—she knew better than anyone—and he could not have been more grateful in that moment for the sunlight streaming through the open blinds and the sounds of Diagon Alley slipping through the cracked open window. When he sat up in bed, he could have sworn his head spun around one thousand times.

Maybe it was during this momentary loss of consciousness that George Weasley’s brain opened wide enough to realize he would never deserve Y/N Y/L/N.

He had told her countless times before, of course, but always out of adoration and genuine confusion on how he landed such a perfect woman. She had been there through everything, and George knew that if he did not take action, she would continue to suffer for him. He had been a horrid partner up to this point, and he could not allow himself comfort at her expense. After all, he would never be the same, so what was the point of keeping her waiting around for her George to come back?

. . .

At the sound of creaking floorboards, Y/N instantly shot up from her spot at the kitchen table. She had just finished making breakfast and was enjoying her share of the eggs she made. Her share, George figured, because there was another plate of food sitting at the other end of the table. A brief moment of selfish panic crossed his mind at the thought of her lovingly preparing something for anyone other than himself.

He lifted his gaze from the plate of eggs and toast when Y/N cleared her throat.

“George,” she whispered. Her body seemed to unconsciously back up, sending her chair skidding across the wooden floor. She nearly moved to approach him but thought better of it, deciding to merely gesture toward the empty spot across from her. She knew him well. “There’s food,” she said.

“For me?” George asked with a hitch in his throat at the effort of speaking after so many weeks of silence.

“Of course. Who else?” Y/N replied, shaking her head. “Although I usually bring it into your room and just leave it there, and sometimes when I come back it’s gone, and other times you’ve hardly touched it, but obviously you know that. After all you’re the one that eats-”

George cut off her nervous rambling with a silent nod and took a seat, thinking even further about how he could never make up for what he had put her through. Y/N’s mouth snapped shut, and she stared as he lifted his fork. Apparently deciding he was not going to flee, she sat back down as well. As he took small, slow bites, George noticed that Y/N had not moved from her straight-backed, hands-on-her-lap position. He looked up to meet her eyes and was greeted with a hesitant smile.

George spoke suddenly. “You don’t have to be so tense, Y/N. I’m not going to go feral.”

Without knowing what her reaction should be, Y/N let out a timid laugh that made her lips quiver and moved her hands to the top of the table. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Yes, well, I figured there were some things I needed to talk to you about,” George explained. This was a shock to both of them, George jumping into things right away. Well, he had never been the kind to wait around for things to happen: he always made them happen. While Y/N was surely taken aback, only George knew the true gravity of his words. “After breakfast.”

“Certainly,” Y/N conceded, allowing George whatever time he wanted or needed to take to discuss what was on his mind, even if it was something as simple as wishing for an additional piece of toast or salt for his eggs. Y/N was not the best cook, but she definitely tried, especially for George. She made him the same breakfast she herself ate every morning, along with any other meal she prepared, and when he did not eat it worried her. She had been so incredibly relieved when she entered his room five days after the battle and noticed that he had taken a bite of his toast. It was a step up from eating nothing. And every day, she made him food that she hoped and prayed he would eat. She would do anything for him, just as she knew he would do the same for her.

She could not have known that in his own mind, George was doubting if he ever could have acted out of care for her in the same manner that she had for him. There was a small seed of doubt, and although George Weasley seemed the farthest thing from a worrier, when it came to Y/N, he was constantly and painfully aware of his inadequacies. And he would convince her of them, if it was the last thing he said to her.

. . .

Y/N had stared at him while he ate the rest of his meal, a feat she was both shocked and unsurprised that he could accomplish. He and his brothers had always been big eaters, but the past few weeks had proven just how little George could survive on. Y/N thought that his stomach had surely shrunk in the time since the war.

What had not diminished in even the slightest was Y/N’s complete and utter admiration for her lover. While he scolded himself for being so weak, she marveled at how strong he had remained through it all. Sure, he had taken some much needed time to recuperate, but not even one half of the infamous Weasley Twins could heal from such a heartbreak in a matter of days. And his healing would not be finished, but Y/N couldn’t help but hope that his actions today were a telling sign of what was to come.

Just as she began to smile to herself, George cleared his throat and pushed his now empty plate away, eliciting an ear-shattering screech as it ran along the wooden dining table. His sudden movement shocked Y/N back into reality, and she recalled George’s concerned tone when he had said they needed to discuss some things. Certainly nothing could be worse than what had already happened to them, so why should she worry?

And yet, as sure as she was that nothing could ever hurt her more than seeing her Georgie with a broken heart, his next words came near.

“You know I’m not one to dance around anything,” he began in a timid murmur. When Y/N moved her attention to George rather than his empty plate, she could not see his hands, and knowing him, she assumed they were under the table twiddling with each others’ thumbs, just as he did every time he seemed particularly anxious. What he could be anxious about, she could not know, but she had spent more than enough time around George Weasley to recognize his tells, and the fact that they were apparent led her to jump to the worst conclusions. “I especially don’t when it comes to you, because, well, I just think you always deserve honesty. And this is something I’ve been thinking about- well, not for a long time, I suppose, but for long enough in my mind-”

“George,” she cut him off, causing him to shift his attention from the top of the table to her eyes, which at this point were nervously flitting around the room. Before she spoke her next words, she focused again on the man seated across from her. “What is it?”

George inhaled a deep breath, which, if even possible, made Y/N more nervous, recognizing that he was steeling himself for something. “This past month, you have been so good to me, Y/N,” he said, looking down once more. “So good. And I will never be able to completely express how grateful I am for you. I never would have thought I could be sitting here at a dining table having a conversation only weeks after . . .” George drifted off and threw his arms onto the table, crossing them to create a pillow for his head which quickly followed suit. Y/N had known this situation was too good to be true: of course George would not magically wake up one day and be able to discuss the war. But no matter how long she had cared for him at his worst, she would never feel any less heartbroken at seeing him in a state of devastation. With his hands now in sight, Y/N reached across the table and gently laid one of hers on top of his, and at this, he peeked up at her through his lashes and sighed. George parted his lips and shut them again, and Y/N could see his mind working through his own thoughts. With another exhale, George continued, this time maintaining eye contact.

She deserves at least that, he figured.

With a somewhat stinging smile, George shook his head. “See now this is exactly what I mean. Here I am working up to tell you to leave me, and your priority is-”

“What?”

George ceased his speech immediately, realizing his mistake. He shut his eyes for a moment. “Y/N,” he began.

“No,” she interrupted again. “What the hell are you on about, George?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N. If you would just-”

Y/N rose from her chair, sending it sliding across the floor, just as she had earlier, although this time her shock came from a drastically different place than when she had seen George for what seemed like the first time in months. The harsh sound silenced them both, and Y/N stood with a seething stare. How dare George come back to her just to try and get rid of her moments later? He was absolutely unbelievable, and she would stand for no such thing.

During an eternal minute of silence in which both parties considered their next move, Y/N’s brain ventured across a horrible thought. The most horrible one she had ever encountered, to be quite honest. And in a moment of vulnerability, she voiced it.

“Do you . . .” she whispered. Cleared her voice. Tried again. “Do you not love me anymore?”

“No!” George replied, shouting out his answer before Y/N could even finish her question. “No, no, of course it’s not that, darling. It’s anything but that.”

Her anger returned. “Then what could possibly be the issue? What more could we ever need?”

George at least granted her a sympathetic look, tilting his head to the side, perhaps attempting to shake around his thoughts in the hopes that they would come together to form a sentence. But when it came to Y/N, George Weasley’s brain was always mush.

“I just can’t be the man you need me to be anymore,” he decided to respond.

“George, you must know I don’t expect you to go back to normal right away,” Y/N reasoned, with much more compassion in her voice and demeanor than before.

George stood abruptly. “No, Y/N, I mean ever. I’ll never be the same, and that’s not fair to you in the slightest. If I can spare you any more pain than I’ve already caused . . . Well, I have to. I owe that to you.”

Without responding, Y/N collected her and George’s dishes from the table and brought them around to the sink. George stood still, simply watching her movements, completely mesmerized as he was by everything she did. Even in this moment, when he knew that although he was trying to do the right thing and was failing miserably, Y/N still responded with just the right amount of grace and fire.

After dropping the plates and silverware into the sink and allowing them to clatter for a moment, Y/N gripped the edge of the porcelain, and even from across the room, George could see how the bumps of her knuckles turned white. She sniffed once and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling of their flat.

“You once told me you’ve loved me since third year,” she whispered. But George could still hear her. He always heard her.

The redheaded man nodded, not disagreeing at all with her statement. “And I have.”

“And do you think I haven’t changed since then?” With a deep breath, Y/N twirled around and crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you think I’m the same as I was when we met?”

George gave a slight shake of his head, yet still replied, “It’s not the same.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows and let out a mirthless bark. “It’s not the same?” she asked. “Of course it’s not the same, George, but what could be? Do you forget that Cedric Diggory and I were friends? That I told him to ask Cho to the Yule Ball because I knew them both so well? That I cheered him on during every Triwizard event? Do you not remember that yourself and Fr-” she paused, trying not to let her passion outweigh her empathy for George’s condition. “When yourself and your brother had to distract me with pranks because his death took such a toll on me, and not even gifting the nastiest batch of Puking Pastilles to Draco Malfoy could cheer me up?” Y/N looked down at the floor, recalling just how difficult that time had been for her, when Harry Potter had returned with the corpse of one of her best friends, and the world seemed to move on while everything around her came to a standstill. When she introduced herself to young Harry, simply because they shared such a horrible similarity. When she convinced her friends that Voldemort was back, for how could anyone else have defeated someone as powerful and just as the brave Cedric Diggory? When her broken heart was healed by the mischievous George Weasley, and she realized that perhaps her love for him went a bit past that of a friend. “Nothing could compare to what you’ve gone through, George, to the loss that you’ve suffered, but how dare you pretend I know nothing of the heartbreak that comes with losing someone you love.”

George felt horrible. Of course he remembered that. As awful as what happened to Diggory was, it brought him and Y/N together, and a part of him would always hold some twisted sort of gratitude for it. “Of course that’s-”

“That’s not what you meant, I know.” She waved him away. “But my point is, George, I have changed. Not just because of Cedric, but because of so many other things. And you have loved me through all of them.” Y/N brushed her hair behind her shoulder and stepped away from the kitchen sink to approach George. Taking both of his hands in hers, she begged him, “Let me love you through this.”

As George’s eyes brimmed with tears, he could not help but think of how his brother—how Fred—would smirk at him in the moment, but later, in private, admit that he was glad he found Y/N.

“Even if she was best friends with both of us and chose the worse twin,” he would say with a cheeky wink from across the counter of their joke shop, probably while he restocked love potions or some other form of hijinx, “I still think she’s good for you. Amazing, really.”

And then he would spike George’s drink with a crushed up hiccough sweet for him to drink right before his date with Y/N, and George would curse him and love him for it all the same. It would be irritating, but he and Y/N would laugh about it, and that was always Fred’s way.

And in that moment, perhaps only that one, George realized that as hesitant as she was to say it, Y/N missed Fred, too. After all, they had once been a trio, and she had lost him just as much as George had. George had grasped earlier that morning that she lost people in the war but had been too focused on his own pain to understand that they had lost the same people.

When George looked up at Y/N from his previous gaze on their linked hands, he noticed that she was looking at him with tears in her own eyes. She had been thinking the same thing, that while her world had been revolving around George’s wellbeing, she had not been as kind to herself as she deserved. Fred and George would always have a relationship unique to themselves, but that didn’t mean Y/N wasn’t a part of their friendship. In fact, she was a big part, and therefore she was missing a big part of herself. So at the same time George exited his nightmarish reverie, Y/N too reentered reality. And their hands were still linked. As they had been through this all, even if they had not known it.

“I couldn’t leave you, Georgie,” Y/N murmured. “Even if you pushed me right out the door and down the staircase.”

George laughed for what seemed like the first time in years, and he was surprised at how genuine it sounded to his own ears. Standing in the kitchen of the flat he used to share with his best friend in the whole world, George was reminded of Fred in the best way possible: laughter.

Y/N seemed to think the same thing, for despite the wetness pooling in her eyes, she smiled up at her lover and gave him a small nod. “You’re going to be okay, George,” she assured him, only because she knew so herself.

“We’re going to be okay,” George corrected her. He squeezed her hands and spun them around so that Y/N could sit on the kitchen chair while George kneeled on the ground. He lowered her down with his hands and then placed them on the top of her legs. As he traced small shapes on the knobs of her knees, George muttered, “I’m never trying to do the noble thing again.”

Y/N laughed, this time with real humor. “Promise?”

“Pinky swear,” George said, hooking his pinky finger around hers.

She cupped his face in her hands. “And even if it’s the evil thing to do, never try to get rid of me again, okay? Nothing could ever make me leave you. Nothing could ever make me stop loving you.”

“And if something dreadful happens in the future?” George asked with a serious tone.

“I’ll stay. I’ll never leave.”

With a much lighter voice, George wondered, “What if fifty years from now, when we’re old and grey, our favorite cat runs away and we find out some nasty little boy found it and kept it for himself? Or maybe a dog, I haven’t thought that far ahead, to be completely honest with you. I’d even be fine with a hamster if that’s what you wanted-”

“George,” Y/N said. “Even if something as foul as that were to happen to us, we could figure it out. Together this time. No more making decisions by yourself.”

Pushing his joke aside, George leant forward as hastily as he could to place a lingering kiss on Y/N’s lips. He poured every ounce of love he possibly could into that kiss, and as Y/N sighed into him with the relief of his mouth on hers once again, George Weasley knew he was the luckiest man alive. Because he knew that in the coming years, they would each face more heartbreak. It was inevitable. But neither of them would be alone. And they would always have someone to love them through it.

. . .

my stories

[streetlight11]

Less of you

Summary: He lost the love of his life 4 years ago in a car accident. If he had stopped her from going to that party with her friend, maybe she would still be with him till this day. He tried hooking up with other girls but none of them could fill his void. All until he met you. A girl who worked at a café to pay for your school and house bills. You were completely the opposite of his late girlfriend but you look exactly like her. Who are you and would he have the courage to get to know you?

Theme: doppelganger au, strangers to lovers 

Genre: fluff

Warning: death, accident (please don't drink and drive people!)

WC: 3.9k

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

a/n: I write when I’m bored so I may not be good. I hope you like it. I didn’t intend to copy anyone if this storyline has been written before! Also, the words in italics are a flashback! :)

“Hey babe, is it okay if I go to the party with Jiyeon?”

“I don’t know babe, I have a bad feeling about this.” Chan said.

“What? Why?”

“I… I’m not sure. I think you should stay home.”

“But babe, it’s Seori’s birthday party. I’m sure she would want me there.” She tried convincing him.

“Lucy-”

“I’ll just be there for a while, I promise I’ll text you when I’m heading home okay?” She smiled, cupping his cheek softly before disappearing down the hall to go to their shared bedroom.

Hours later, Chan was growing tensed and anxious. There was an unexplainable feeling of discomfort settling in the pit of his stomach which he doesn’t know why. He had already texted his close friends about this. All of them said the same thing. And that was to go fetch Lucy from the party. However, before he could leave the comforts of his shared apartment with his girlfriend, his cell phone began to ring obnoxiously on the kitchen island top.

It was from an unknown number but he decided to pick up the call anyway in hopes that he would hear Lucy’s voice. But what he heard next, wasn’t exactly something he thought he would hear. 

“Hello? Is this Mr Bang Chan?” The female voice spoke up on the other line.

“Uhh, yes? Who is this?”

“This is Lee Haneul speaking. I’m calling from Seoul's National Police Station. Can I confirm with you if you are related to Miss Lucy Hale?”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

“I’m really sorry to inform you that your girlfriend was met in a fatal car crash. We are still investigating the accident to find out what’s the cause. But in the meantime, we will need you to come down to the hospital and identify if the victim is indeed Miss Lucy. Will that be okay?”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.” Chan said, letting the woman give out the address of the hospital he needed to go before hanging up the call.

Right after he clicked the red button, he instantly collapsed to the ground unable to feel his legs. Chan could feel the tears streaming down his face as he hugged his frame tightly. He couldn’t believe he just received that call. He wanted it to be a prank so badly. He didn’t want all of that to be true. 

Nevertheless, he went to the said hospital in search of the love of his life.

The nurse brought him to a female officer who was standing outside a closed hallway with a doctor, where Chan clarified himself to them. The three individuals soon entered the closed doors, letting the doctor lead them straight down to the basement where the mortuary was located.

Once inside, the doctor walked up to one of the silver units. After reading the name on the side of the unit, he opened the unit door only to pull out the metal stretcher that had a covered body in it. Chan had to close his eyes for a second, too afraid to look forward.

He carefully made his way to the doctor. The man proceeds to unzip the top part of the bag. The moment he pulled the bag apart, Chan immediately covered his mouth with one hand desperately as he gripped onto the metal stretcher. He broke down in a matter of seconds, enough proof to the officer that it was indeed who the victim was said to be. She carefully placed a hand on top of Chan’s shoulder while the doctor pressed his lips in a straight line.

“I’m so sorry Lucy… I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to stop you from going… I’m so sorry…” Chan whispered as he stared at the pale, blood covered female body that he used to call his girlfriend.

With that being said, the doctor proceeded to zip the bag while the officer and Chan left the mortuary. She let out a silent sigh, knowing exactly how he felt at the moment.

“Thank you for being strong and seeing her for the last time. I hope you’ll feel better soon. She’s in a better place now.” She gave him words of comfort. Even though his mind wasn’t really there with him at the moment, he appreciated the officer’s kind words.

He went home that night feeling nothing but utter loss and grief. It took him at least 4 hours to accept the fact that she’s gone and that there was no way of seeing her again.

He broke the news to his close friends, all of which shock and sympathy was mixed together.

They went to her funeral but Chan felt empty.

He thought his life was going to be dull and miserable now that he lost her. He wasn’t sure if he could continue to live but his friends made it a point to let him go on his days without feeling at a loss. They were truly the friends anyone could ask for.

4 years went by where Chan still tends to miss her presence. But instead of grieving about it, he finally accepts the fact that she was no longer on this earth. Despite meeting new people, new potential partners in his life, none of them could seem to fill the void that has been eating him alive for the past few years.

There were some who he had genuine interest in. But somehow, that relationship never worked out and he wasn’t one to dwell on things for too long. For he just simply moves on with his life and goes about his daily routine.

It was a bright Saturday morning, Chan had already promised Changbin and Jisung to have a morning workout session together.

“So… Hyung, are you contacting anyone?” Jisung asked as he turned to Chan who was currently lifting weights.

“No. I haven’t contacted anyone in months…” Chan sighed. Dropping the barbell onto the ground.

“Why not?” Changbin asked out of curiosity.

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel like anyone’s of my interest.” Chan shrugged his shoulders. The two boys looked at each other only to exchange a knowing look which Chan couldn’t bother to even notice. After they were done with the workout session, the boys left the gym to make their way to a nearby café that they had been going to every time they ended their workout.

They had just entered the café, strong coffee bean aroma filling their nostrils as they walked up to the counter. Only for Chan to halt in his steps when he saw just who was standing behind the counter, taking orders. Both Changbin and Jisung also came to a stop when they saw who Chan was staring at.

“No way…” Chan whispered under his breath. Jisung desperately clinged onto Chan’s arms only to ask in a confused tone.

“Umm… Hyung, is that…?”

“No… It can’t be.” Chan said as they carefully made their way closer to the cashier. The three of them queued up behind the rest of the customers but their eyes couldn’t seem to leave her.

After the customer in front of them walked away, the person standing behind the counter finally locked eyes with all three of them before flashing them a warm smile.

“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” She said. Chan was too dumbfounded that he couldn’t even speak so Changbin did it first.

“Hi, can I get one Iced Americano.” She keyed in his order before turning back to the remaining two.

“Anything else?” She asked with a smile.

“Umm, can I get one Iced Tropical Passion Tea?” She nodded as she entered his order into the machine. Just then, the minute she looked up, Chan had the most prominent frown on his face and she wondered why.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” However, when she received no particular reply from him, she decided to joke around.

“You know, if your order is written on my face, I would so gladly take them down for you.” With that, Chan finally snapped out of his trance. He shook his head, letting his brown locks shift from side to side.

“Uhh… right. S-Sorry. I’ll just have a regular Iced Strawberry Lemonade Green Tea.” She smiled and proceeded to key in his order, only for Changbin to hold his card out. After he was done paying, she asked him for his name or initial. Telling him that she will call out to him once the drinks are made.

The guys went over to a table right next to the window but Chan’s eyes were glued on her. Watching as she made their drinks while she joked around with her co-worker.

“She might look like her but she’s definitely not like her.” 

Changbin commented softly before Jisung hummed in agreement. But Chan still couldn’t seem to let this new information digest into his brain. This girl looked exactly like Lucy except maybe her style and her hair colour but her face was like a copy paste of Lucy.

Lucy was slightly girly and definitely more fashionable in terms of the things she wore. She always loved branded items. She wore mostly dresses or skirts everyday, with designer clothes. She normally wore heels and tends to look richer than she really was. However, Lucy can be very arrogant towards people she doesn’t like or doesn’t know. She would never openly smile to just anyone, nor would she talk to anyone aside from Chan and her close friends. 

Unlike Lucy, this girl was nothing like Lucy and Chan could see the vast difference.

Lucy would never work at a café shop because to her, these kinds of jobs are for people who are not able to support themselves financially. This girl not only works as a barista at a café, her sense of fashion is definitely more laid back compared to Lucy.

She wore a plain white shirt with denim skinny jeans and a pair of Nikes with her café apron on. She had her hair in a low messy bun to keep her hair from falling into customer’s drinks while making them. Character wise, she was a lot more friendlier than Lucy. She had quite a bubbly side to her when she greeted new customers at the cashier.

Chan was just too absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear her calling out to Changbin. The latter went back to the collection point, not forgetting to get a glimpse of her name on her nametag.

“Thanks… (Y/N).” Changbin smiled, making her return the favour with a small nod.

Chan knew he shouldn’t do it but he wanted to. He wanted to get to know her a little better. Which is why he decided to come visit her again the following week. She was currently leaning against the counter top, facing the café entrance while her co-worker and close friend, Moonbin was fooling around with her since the café was sort of empty with only 6 tables max being occupied.

She had just punched his abdomen softly when he threw a balled tissue onto the top of her head.

Just then, the sound of doorbell chiming caught their attention. She turned towards the door, only to see Chan enter the café. She immediately smiled after remembering his face from last weekend.

Moonbin went to go hide behind the coffee machine, pretending to be busy.

“Hi, welcome to Daisies Café. What can I get for you today?” She greeted Chan with a smile, making him mimic her expression.

“Umm, hey. I think I’ll just have an Iced Berry Mint Tea.” She keyed in his order before asking him if there was anything else he wanted. When he said no, she nodded and proceeded to charge him for it. After she was done, she took the cup and asked him for his name or initial.

“Chan.” She let his name roll off her tongue quietly before smiling at him. She went over to Moonbin only to see the boy grinning like an idiot.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” She asked her same aged colleague.

“Nothing… He’s kinda your type, no?”

To that, she glanced over to Chan who was seated near the window. He had his laptop on the table with a headphone on his head. A smile graced onto her lips, ignoring Moonbin’s comment and instead, focusing on making Chan’s drink. She knew if she called his name, he wouldn’t be able to hear so she opted to bring his drink over to him instead.

She brought him his drink only for Chan to smile at her, his cute dimples coming to view.

“Oh! Sorry!” 

He apologized before taking the glass from her, feeling her fingers brushing lightly over hers. She got visibly flustered as she pulled her hands back a little too quickly. Chan simply let out a soft chuckle when she excused herself to continue working when he gently gripped her wrist to stop her.

“Hey, umm, are you free later?” He asked.

“I… yeah. Why?”

“Do you… maybe wanna grab dinner with me?” She got quiet for a moment, making him feel bad.

“Uhh, you don’t have to agree! It’s okay.” He reassured her. But there was just something about him that made her smile, a warm feeling blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

“I finish at 5.” She said with a small smile on her face.

“Oh… uhh, great. I’ll come pick you up then.”

“Okay.” She giggled before leaving his table.

7 months was definitely longer than what he had in mind about being friends with her. All the girls that he has dated or contacted ever since Lucy passed wouldn’t last for more than a month. During the last few months, Chan got to know about her background a little better.

Although he does know that (Y/N) can never be Lucy, he slowly started to like (Y/N) for who she is and not just because she looked like Lucy.

In fact, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he actually likes (Y/N)’s personality slightly better.

It was a sunny Saturday evening and she was having a day off. She was just mopping her living room when her phone began to ring. She placed her mop on the bucket only to go to the desk right beside the hallway where her phone was sitting.

It was Chan’s caller ID.

“Hello?” She said.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was just cleaning my apartment.”

“Do you need an extra hand?” She could hear him chuckle on the other side of the line.

“If you don’t mind getting down and dirty.” She laughed.

“Sure. Then afterwards, I was wondering if you’d wanna meet my friends and hang out with them?” Chan asked softly, making her pause.

For the past few months, (Y/N) had gotten closer to Chan when he kept coming back to the café only to become a regular customer there. However, she has never met Chan’s friends properly simply because she was shy and slightly nervous around a huge crowd.

Chan seemed to read her concerns through the silence. Hence, the reason why he was telling her that she didn’t have to agree to it if she didn’t want to. But she didn’t want to keep rejecting his kind offer of meeting his close friends. She wouldn’t want him to feel bad for asking her so she decided to go with it. About an hour later, Chan came to her place as promised before, only to help her with her spring cleaning.

They joked around with each other a few times, earning soft laughs from them both.

They were just moving their legs back and forth on the ground, dancing along to the music she played in the background when she accidentally slipped. She lost her balance and almost fell backwards but he caught her in time.

Chan wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back up against him. A soft gasp left her lips as he asked her if she was okay. But all she did was laugh out loud from her clumsiness. 

He smiled down at her, letting her press her forehead against his shoulder.

After her laughter had died down, she pulled away from him when she felt his arms still securely wrapped around her body. She glanced up, tilting her head to meet his. What she wasn’t ready for was the close proximity of their faces. She could feel his warm breath hit her lips. 

Chan’s eyes naturally fell down to her lips, letting it linger there for a second too long. Before anyone could do anything, Chan’s phone rang in his back pocket. He pulled away not forgetting to apologize to her. 

“Hey. Yeah. I’m at (Y/N)’s house. Yeah. Yeah sure, I’ll be there. Bye Minie.”

Chan hung up the call only for (Y/N) to ask who it was. He said it was Seungmin asking if he was coming to Hyunjin’s apartment later to hangout. She gave him a small smile. About 2 hours later, they were both making their way to Hyunjin’s apartment in Chan’s jeep. She changed into a slightly more casual outfit which was just a fitted shirt, a large flannel, denim skinny jeans and a pair of her favourite sneakers.

When they arrived at Hyunjin’s apartment, Chan walked with her beside him the whole time. They were talking about school projects when he stopped in front of the wooden door.

He gave it a few knocks only to turn to her with a slight frown.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asked again to make sure she was really okay. But when he received a nod and a smile, Chan’s shoulders relaxed for a bit before the door swung open to reveal a tall blonde boy whom she had never met before.

“Hey hyung!” Hyunjin’s eyes then met hers. She noticed the way his mouth hung open slightly as he took in her features.

“Woah.” He whispered under his breath before he quickly shook his head and welcomed them in. She saw the amount of shoes by the doorstep, making her feel slightly anxious and Chan seemed to notice this. Hyunjin had already re-joined his other friends in the living room when she felt Chan’s hand on her back.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked.

“H-Huh? Oh… Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry… I just… I tend to get anxious when there’s too many guys around me. I’m not used to it.” She said in a hushed whisper.

“We can go home if you want?”

“No! No, please. I’d love to meet your friends, I just need… a little time to get used to this.”

With that, Chan smiled as he cupped her face with one hand only to whisper a soft ‘okay’ before leading her into the living room. That’s when she finally met his friends in person properly. All 7 pairs of eyes were now staring at her with bright expressions but she seemed to feel small under their gazes.

Chan giggled when he felt her gently grip his forearm with both hands, making him speak up to his friends.

“Guys. This is (Y/N). (Y/N), these are my friends.” Chan introduced, only for her to smile to them shyly, partially hiding behind Chan’s larger frame. Some of them couldn’t help but chuckle. They found her quite adorable to say the least.

It took her about an hour or two to warm up to them but eventually, she did. This only made Chan even more proud of her. They were all gathered in Hyunjin’s living room, currently watching a Marvel movie. She was seated on the couch in between Chan and Jeongin, with Changbin right beside her feet on the floor.

They were watching the movie, Jisung and Felix occasionally making comments during the show. Minho was starting to drift off to Lalaland at the side. Hyunjin, Jeongin and Changbin were playing a game on their phones and Seungmin was busy reading an online book.

(Y/N) and Chan were watching the movie in silence but he did notice her getting closer to his side every time she shifts or adjusts herself on the couch. Not that he was complaining.

Just then, Jeongin suddenly flinched harshly beside her.

This was enough to make her jump. However, this caused her to accidentally lean against Chan who had his arm around her waist.

She blushed at this sudden contact. Jeongin apologized to her for scaring her but she simply laughed it off and told him it was fine. But the minute she turned back to Chan, she could feel her breath hitch in her throat with how close his face was to her.

Unfortunately, he was close enough to hear it but he didn’t mock her for it. In fact, he actually giggled thinking it was cute. 

“You okay, love?” His soft voice sultry to her ears.

She hummed in response, only to look forward to the tv screen. Chan chuckled beside her but she ignored it, knowing he probably saw the pink tint on her cheeks. A few hours later, they finally called it a night where Chan sent her back home.

Once they were outside her apartment door, she turned to him to speak up.

“Thanks Chan, for bringing me to meet your friends. They’re really genuine people.”

“No worries. I knew you’d love them.” He chuckled. Suddenly, the air became hot as she struggled to find the right words.

“Chan…”

“Yeah?”

The room fell silent for a moment as they both just stared at each other. Trying to decipher what the other would do next. But she was one step faster than him when the next thing she did was literally what he planned on doing. In one swift movement, she leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his soft full lips. Chan stood there completely bewildered, unable to take in the fact that that really just happened.

She wasn’t sure how long he would stay like that so she took this chance to hide from him. Wanting to avoid any awkward situations if he doesn’t feel the same way for her. Right when she was about to say goodbye to him and enter her apartment, Chan quickly caught her wrist. She turned around to him with a slightly baffled look. But Chan was cheeky. He used his other hand to pull her closer by her waist only to press his lips on hers again. 

This time, letting his lips stay there slightly longer than before.

She melted into the kiss as soon as he kissed her, making him smile against her lips. She slid her hand up his chest, tangling her fingers in his soft brown locks.

Chan guides her gently back until she is pressed against the door, hugging her waist securely in his arms. She pulled away for air, feeling him press his forehead against hers softly. A few seconds later, Chan whispered softly just loud enough for her to hear.

“I’m really happy to have met you.”

She could feel the butterflies erupting in her stomach at his words. She smiled as he continued.

“I thought my life was over after losing who I thought would be with me forever. But I was wrong. And I realised it when I first saw you at the café that day. Thank you for being there (Y/N). I honestly don't know how my life would have turned out if I didn’t meet you that day.” 

With that being said, she smiled. Cupping his face with both hands gently only to speak up.

“I’m glad I could be the source of happiness for you, Chan.”

Chan kissed her again sweetly before pulling back to say the 3 words he had been wanting to say to her. Only for her to return the favour.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too Chan.”

[rreyie]

Fight for Us

Chapter ii- A Field

summary- after getting a rather ominous statement from reiner, you figure out exactly what it means.

warnings- major triggers- attempted suicide, guilt, mentions of figurative violence, dark thoughts. read with caution if you are sensitive to those issues.

a/n- this chapter was definitely a hard one to write, but i mean i don’t think it came out terrible? i promise all this angst is temporary and i’ll make it get fluffier :( 

Reiner and you sat on the curb of the street, looking up into the midnight sky that hung over the two of you. The moon was at half tonight, and you could see the craters on it even though it was millions of miles away.

A cool breeze came along through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. Reiner could see you shaking out of the corner of his golden eyes, shimmering bright in the pale moonlight.

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” He asked. “You should get home before you catch a cold.”

“I-is that okay?” You ask, body trembling in a weak attempt to stay warm. “I don’t w-wanna leave you here.”

Reiner chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. We’ll catch up in the morning if that’s okay with you.”

You nod, and get yourself up off of the cold pavement. Reiner stays there looking up at the moon, a content expression on his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Reiner”, you say, and wave. Turning the opposite direction, you head home to go to sleep for the night.

Before you head too far off, Reiner clears his throat loud enough to make you hear him and turn your attention back to him, a puzzled expression on your face.

“Y/n?” He asks, still not turning away from you.

“What?”

“...I’m sorry.”

You arch a brow at this, not knowing exactly what he meant by this. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything. What are you apologizing to me for, anyway?”

Reiner sighed, one that was barely audible. “You’ll know in the morning.”

———

After heading home confused and partly concerned, you tucked yourself into bed after reading a part of a romance novel you borrowed off your parents bookshelf.

At one point, the two main lovers in the story were frolicking in a field after running away from their disapproving parents. When trying to visualize this, you swore you might have accidentally saw you and Reiner instead of those two lovers.

If only the world was as complicated as that field of flowers.

When you woke up the next morning, it took you a moment to remember your conversation that you and Reiner had last night. His last words before you

left echoed through your head.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, what could that mean? You ask yourself, pondering on this question while slipping out of your nightgown and into your normal day clothes. You shrugged off the question for now, it couldn’t mean anything too deep.

Today you had plans to go into town just for the hell of it. Perhaps a nice shopping day in downtown Marley would be nice, maybe stopping for some coffee or tea afterwards. And of course, you had to pop into the warriors dorms to say hello to Reiner again. He did say he wanted to finish catching up with you.

After getting the rest of your clothing on, you headed out the door to the busy streets of Marley, already crowded with people and merchants. It was like everyone in this country had collectively decided to come out and buy groceries this very hour.

The walk to the headquarters wasn’t long, perhaps fifteen minutes or so from your apartment. Once you got there, you saw two men with blonde hair and a woman with black hair that was rather messy. You could recognize them easily, since they still flaunted some of the features they had when they were children. One was Porco Galliard, another Zeke Yeager, the woman was Pieck Finger.

The first one to notice your presence from across the cobblestone street was Porco. His head instantly turned, and a wide smile formed on his lips.

“Hey, y/n!” He shouted, throwing a hand up in the air and waving it.

You smile, and cross the street to meet the other warriors. Eventually Zeke notices you after lighting a cigarette, followed by Pieck.

“How are you?” Pieck asks, wrapping you in a warm hug. Her demeanor was always soft and comforting, making you feel safe every time you were around her. “You got tall, it feels like the last time I saw you, you were only this high!” She gestures her hand to somewhere around her chest.

“Yeah”, you giggle. “Puberty does wonders I guess. I heard about your victory in Fort Slava, that was pretty cool if I do say so myself.”

“It was, but it was a little terrifying to see a canon being pointed at me every five minutes. But nonetheless it was still cool.” Porco chuckled, and you saw the faintest shade of pink spread across his cheeks. He reached a hand to smooth back his blonde hair, even though he must’ve had a gallon of hair gel on him.

“So um, have you seen Reiner?” You asked them. Porcos face instantly dropped upon hearing his name. “I figured he would be here, since the whole titan shifter thing.”

“He uh, hasn’t showed up to the meeting this morning”, Zeke added, breathing out a puff of grey smoke. You coughed as your nose picked up the scent of ash. “You could probably find him in the dormitories.”

“Thank you Zeke”, you say. “I’d better go find him. He said we would catch up today since we didn’t have the time yesterday. I’ll see you guys later!”

You wave goodbye to them, Zeke and Pieck waving back while Porco just stood there.

Porco didn’t want to admit it, but hearing Reiners name come out of your mouth like that made his blood boil. He saw yesterday the way your eyes lit up when you looked at him, how you hugged him so tightly. And the worst part was that you liked to hang around that asshole, the one who had the chance to make things better, but didn’t. He swore he could do better than him in every way possible.

You walked down the halls to where all the dorms were, all the doors open except one. You assumed Reiner was probably in the occupied room, so you made your way down the hall to that closed door.

Your footsteps echoed in the near empty hallway, boots clacking on the polished floor. Once you came to the door, you gulped down your nervousness and placed three knocks on the wooden door.

There was no reply. You waited patiently for another thirty seconds or so, but soon grew impatient and decided to just open the door.

“Reiner, I was wondering where you wer-“

Your breath was practically stolen from you because of the sight laid out in front of you. Reiner sat on his desk chair, a locked and loaded rifle sitting in his throat. His eyes were dull, hair a mess and skin pale.

You were frozen. You couldn’t comprehend why that rifle was in his mouth. He was always so lively, what the hell was he doing?

Then it clicked.

“...I’m sorry. You’ll understand in the morning.”

He was going to shoot himself.

You ran to his side, trying to hold back an outburst of tears from streaming down your cheeks, you could feel them building up in your eyes. Reiner swiftly pulled out the rifle, a gob of spit coating the head. He let out a few strained coughs, letting you know exactly how deep that rifle was inside his mouth.

“Reiner, what the hell are you doing?” You ask, voice cracking. “Don’t tell me...”

“It’s what it looks like y/n, i know. I just don’t- I can’t- fuck, this is hard to explain...”

Before he could let out another word, you found your arms enveloping his cold body, wrapping around both of his broad shoulders and around his upper back.

“Don’t say anything”, you whisper in his ear. “Just... just sit with me.”

Reiner could feel his tears start to come up too, clumping up at his lashline and threatening to come down.

“I’m s-sorry I’m useless”, he hiccuped. “I-I’m so tired...”

His grip tightened around your back, and he soon found himself clinging to you, the tears rolling down his puffy cheeks. He sniffled, and let out a broken sob. His tears began to soak through your shirt, creating a temporarily stained spot on your shirt. But that was the least of your concern right now.

“You’re- you’re not useless, Reiner”, you say. “You’re everything that this country needs.”

“I’m just holding them back, y-y/n...” he said, almost whispering in a voice you’ve never heard come out from him. “I’m the reason t-that we lost Bertholdt and the others. I would be better with my brains blown out right now.”

You slightly gasp at his statement, but don’t dare to pull away in the state he’s in right now. “Don’t you say that ever again, Reiner. You were chosen for a reason-“

Reiner pulled away from you, tears still rolling down his cheeks. “R-remember what I told you last night? Marcel swayed the decisions to protect Porco. It wasn’t supposed to be me. It shouldn’t have been me, ever.”

“Look at me”, you say, taking ahold of his face, holding his head between your two palms. “You’ve done everything you could- in fact, you’ve done more than I ever could! You’re brilliant, Reiner, you hear me?”

Reiner was trembling at this point, shaking like a nervous puppy at the vet. His eyes were wide with panic, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. You didn’t know what else to say.

Your mind wanders to a darker place for a moment, if you had shown up a minute too late to see his cold body on the floor. What would you have done? How would you have forgiven yourself? You were going to pray tonight for getting the chance to talk him out of it.

His eyes clenched shut, and he buried his head in your shoulder. You could physically feel your heart shatter for Reiner, being in a condition like this. You couldn’t help but cry along with him, not knowing what else to say. Muffled groans and sobs escaped his mouth, quieted by your shirt you were wearing. Each cry felt like somebody was stabbing you repeatedly, the vibrations from his wails shaking you to your core.

“Im sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He wailed. “I’m just so fucking tired of this planet!”

“S-stop apologizing, R-Reiner...” you say, a knot forming in your throat. “L-let’s just go over here, okay? R-Relax.”

You take his hand and guide him up a few steps to lead him to his bed, where he quickly sits down, unable to stand because of the intense emotions. You sit down with him, in fear of what he would do if you left. You reached out a hand, which he quickly started to hold, squeezing your palm.

Reiners cries start to calm, not entirely, but the volume has certainly gone down. He hiccuped twice before speaking clearly.

“Y-you shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“I’ll take this over your blood all over the floor any day”, you reply, wiping a tear from your cheek. You notice a few staining his, so you quickly reach out a thumb to his cheek and wipe away a salty tear or two.

“Thanks”, he said.

You could hear some yelling outside, the distant chatter of children audible through the wall. You guessed the warrior candidates were out to play during one of the rare breaks they had.

“If Gabi saw me like that”, Reiner began. “I would be screwed. And my mother? Dear god...”

“I’ll keep this a secret if you want to”, you quickly say. “Just make sure you put that rifle somewhere else. It makes me uneasy thinking that you could... you know.”

“I’ll do that”, he adds.

“Good”, you say. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. It’s out of protection.”

Reiner nods. “I get it.”

After sitting in comfortable silence for a moment, Reiners mouth opens, as if he was going to say something. But nothing came out.

You turn to him, confused about what he was trying to do. “Something wrong?”

“It’s nothing”, he said. “I’ve just been thinking about... about how you’ve been here all this time. When we were kids you cleaned me up after Porco beat the shit out of me. You even brought me stuff to eat when we couldn’t afford much. And now you’re here... after all of this. Why? Why are you here?”

Now that you thought about it, why were you here? What had compelled you to stick with him? Was there something more than platonic feelings towards him, No, no. That couldn’t be right, you thought. You’re only feeling these things because you missed him.

“Because... you’re my friend”, you quickly answer. “This is what friends do.”

A minuscule smile curved on Reiners pale lips, indicating he was content with your answer. “Huh.”

After sitting in a few more seconds of utter quietness, Reiner looks at the clock and quickly gets up, smoothing out the folds on his uniform. “Fuck. I told the others we would go out for drinks tonight. Plus the festival is tomorrow. Uh, wanna come with us? I’m positive the others won’t mind.”

“I don’t see why not”, you reply.

“Alright”, he says. “I’ll go shower. We’re going to the pub at 7.”

“So it’s a date?” You ask.

Reiners brow arches. “What?”

You cover your mouth, shocked at what you just said. “I-it’s a saying. Like i’ll be there. Not an actual date, of course not-“

“Oh. That’s okay”, he cuts you off. “I’ll um, see you at eight then?”

“Perfect”, you say, heading to the door, heat rising to your cheeks. “See you then!”

As you close the door, you immediately face palm yourself and sigh. Why the hell did that come out of you? Now Reiner was totally going to suspect that you felt something that is definitely not platonic, and he might leave you!

After realizing how much overthinking you were doing, that finally tore it. You felt something different for Reiner Braun. But you were going to have to hide it for a while now.

[lazysublimeengineer]

August

Summary:

August slipped away into a moment in time.

'Cause it was never mine.

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets.

August sipped away like a bottle of wine.

'Cause you were never mine.

Characters: Manjiro "Mikey" Sano & Hanagaki "Takemitchy" Takemichi

Salt air, and the rust on your door

I never needed anything more

Whispers of "Are you sure?"

"Never have I ever before"

Mikey found himself standing in front of Takemichi’s house and knocking on his doorstep.

He knew that the blond will just laze around on a morning weekend inside his house since his girlfriend and her family were on a vacation trip to their relatives in Hokkaido this summer.

This means that he can take up the time of Takemichi for himself.

He knew that it was wrong but in the back of Mikey’s mind he tried to rationalize it that he wanted to hang out with Takemichi because he’s one of his closest friends and he enjoyed his company.

And nothing more.

But upon settling his dark gaze to the warm smile and bright blue eyes that were the epitome of the clear skies and sunshine, he knew that his heart was in trouble.

But at this moment he never needed anything more aside from the radiant hope standing in front of him in the form of Hanagaki Takemichi.

“Mikey-kun?” His voice had the usual lilt of innocent curiosity and light airiness that’s akin to the soft, harmonic sounds of the chimes against the salt air of autumn skies.

“Hello, Takemitchy. Better prepare your helmet cause we’re going to test out your knowledge and skills on driving the bike just like I taught you the last time!” Mikey smiled at him cheerfully and willfully ignored the surprised look on his face and sputtering some nonsense.

The more he looked at the blond’s rosy cheeks and innocent gaze on his eyes, the more he could be lost into them.

And again, it’s not good for his fragile heart.

But I can see us lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

'Cause it was never mine

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

'Cause you were never mine

He heaved a deep breath as he watched the stream of light from the setting sun grazed softly along with the soft and peaceful features of a sleeping Takemichi beside him on the grass.

Mikey could watch on his face forever and tucked it away on the deep recesses of his mind, making it a faint memory inside his head that he would replay over and over again when he’s gone.

He knew that Takemichi didn’t belong here and he needed to go back soon into the future where he belongs.

And embraced the optimistic future that waits for him in the loving arms of his girlfriend, Hinata.

That thought sent a pang into his heart. But Mikey decided to ignore it as always.

He knew that Takemichi isn’t his, to begin with, but in the limited time they have together, he could be selfish and shut down any reason his brain was screaming at him. He scooted closer and leaned down on his lips, capturing it in a fluttering kiss.

Takemichi stayed asleep.

He didn’t know whether to be thankful or feel wretched about it afterward.

Your back beneath the sun

Wishin' I could write my name on it

Will you call when you're back at school?

I remember thinkin' I had you

That day was memorable to him.

Mikey’s gaze was on Takemichi’s back under the glistening rays of the sun on that fighting ring when he first met him. He was dressed in a uniform similar to the middle schoolers. But his back was bigger than anyone else present there. Takemichi was an old soul trapped in a teenager’s body because of the burdens he’s carrying that day.

And now he finally understood why.

Takemichi would look at him with that electrifying blue eyes of his, an all-knowing gaze that made Mikey want to imprint on his memory forever.

That desperate yet glimmering smile of hope was thrown over his direction. Takemichi had seen all the terrible deeds he had done not only to himself but to the others as well. Yet Takemichi continued to believe in him.

Continued to save him from the bleak future that waits for him.

And all Mikey wanted to do was to scream out his name and plead for him to stay right beside him.

Because he doesn’t know if he can handle things alone when Takemichi was not on his side anymore.

He’s the sunshine to the lagoon of the darkness of his life.

But Mikey knew that’s not right. He can’t monopolize and depend on Takemichi like this.

He needed to do his part and save everyone too. Even if he has to erase himself from the lives of the people that matter to him.

But I can see us lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

'Cause it was never mine

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

'Cause you were never mine

Mikey had watched Takemichi’s sleeping figure beside him in silence. The blond was pretty damn exhausted after his bloody fight with Taiju at the church and his emotional confession to Hina afterward. He tried not to dwell on the last part as it brought a certain pang to his chest at seeing them get back together again.

But overall, the young blond had passed out on him again as they traversed through the city with his CB250T motorcycle. He studied his bruised face and mottled arms with the usual blank expression on his face. Despite the numerous cuts and wounds on his face, it didn’t take away the breathtaking innocence of his face. It was more magnified when he was in a deep slumber and unconscious state since he was free away from the burdens and hardships that he carried throughout his life. His hand had unconsciously drifted towards his flaxen locks, caressing idly the soft strands that fell through the side of his face.

The urge to kiss him on his lips was strong and achingly bittersweet.

Mikey had leaned closer until his face is a few inches away from the other, almost feeling his calm breathing and the steady beat of his heart.

How he wished that they could stay like this forever.

But that is wishful thinking that got lost in the depths of the ocean a long time ago.

It will remain unfulfilled till the very end.

And all he could do is to kiss his forehead and left him in stone silence despite the growing numbness inside his heart.

Back when we were still changin' for the better

Wanting was enough

For me, it was enough

To live for the hope of it all

Cancel plans just in case you'd call

And say, "Meet me behind the mall"

So much for summer love and saying "us"

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

You weren't mine to lose, no

It’s no question how Takemichi would drop almost everything when Mikey called for his presence and asked him to stay by his side when they strolled aimlessly outside the city or just lounging lazily around the grassy area of the park near the lake.

However, Mikey had begun realizing within himself that he’d do the same for the blond when he was in need even if Takemichi wasn’t pushy as him and still provide him of a leeway to decline as not to impose himself too much on him or on to the others.

The blond would show up in the most unexpected of ways.

Bringing him some home-cooked meals on the weekends and just hang out with him if he doesn’t have any dates with Hina or a busy schedule or just asking him to hang out around the city to stroll in the arcade center or the mall randomly.

And of course, he can’t decline. He can’t outright reject Takemichi. Even if he has plans or somewhere to go on that day, the priority would lose its essence and be pushed back at the far recesses of his mind when Takemichi calls and requested his presence by his side.

It didn’t occur to him that it wasn’t cemented.

That it was just a temporary form of happiness.

Because Takemichi can still cancel his plans unexpectedly when something happens or when someone rather calls for his attention and time back.

And that’s with Hina. Or with the other people closest to him.

A bittersweet smile curved on his lips as he stared despondently at the calm sea on the pier in front of him.

But I can see us lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

'Cause it was never mine

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

'Cause you were never mine

'Cause you were never mine, never mine

But do you remember?

Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car"

And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?

Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all

"Meet me behind the mall"

His short, raven locks danced against the wind as he stared numbly at the ruins of the dilapidated edifice in front of him.

Mikey was getting used to the sweltering heat and tropical climate here in the Philippines that the blazing heat of the sun and the humidity of the weather didn’t faze him a bit. It’s been a while since he last felt the cold breeze of the autumn wind or the faint, droplets of snow back in Japan.

Also…

It’s been a while…

Since he last saw…

His sunshine… and his last ray of hope.

Mikey still remembered back then how Takemichi’s smile and comforting words would calm him down and reassure him of everything.

But then Takemichi left and everything seemed dull and monotonous.

He should’ve killed Chifuyu instantly when he saw him back then and not let his words messed up his mind further by listening to his hopeful words and staring at his promising smile that was etched on his face before he shot him to death.

Because hope was a fine conception of a man that brought out the best in every individual.

Ironically, it also brought out the wretchedness and misery in every person when it was dashed out in despair.

Because Takemichi was his own hope and his own lingering despair at the same time.

Takemichi had the power to build him up only to destroy him once again with that fleeting yet hopeful smile on his face.

“Mikey-kun!”

“Some things never changed Takemitchy.”

Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car"

And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?

Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all (For the hope of it all)

For the hope of it all

For the hope of it all

(For the hope of it all)

(For the hope of it all)

(A/N: I don’t own any of the characters from the franchise nor the song August from Taylor Swift’s Folklore album. If there is one thing that the song and Taylor got it right, it’s the lyrics of, “August slipped away into a moment in time.” Because we’re only a few moments away until we hit September, I’d like to get this done and published this fic before August ends within a few days. This was greatly inspired by the song August and Takemikey just screams of angst, unrequited love, and longingness. Reviews are fascinating. So, let me hear them from you.)

[cosmic-goddess-leo]

Special Stream

AgedUp! Kuroo x Reader Roommate AU

Summary: Kuroo discovers his roommate is a cam-girl.

Warnings: SMUT!!! 

Author’s Note: I figured we were due for some Kuroo smut since we didn’t get any in First Love / Late Spring

Taglist: @caxsthetic​ @vventure​ @ardorwrites-hq-mha​ @cmllnc​

Kuroo never saw any issue with having a female roommate.

He had known (Y/n) for years, he trusted her and was comfortable enough to approach her about being roommates after he learned they would both be attending the same college.

She didn’t seem phased by the proposal at all. She was excited more than shocked.

Their families gave them some grief at first, insisting if they were ever to live with someone of the opposite gender, they should be engaged. No, the two didn’t pretend to be engaged to get their parents’ blessing to live together, it just took a lot of convincing.

Now here they were, living together now almost two years, and without any awkward incidents. They were good about respecting each other’s privacy and knocking before they entered bedrooms.

Everything was perfect until Kuroo decided to try something new and check out a NSFW livestreaming website when he got home from class.

(Y/n) had been home for a few hours now, her Friday schedule ensured she would be home by noon.

He didn’t feel the need to announce he was home, she knew his schedule. Plus, he was sure she was still in the middle of her afternoon nap. 

Kuroo settled into his bed once he made sure his bedroom door was locked. He  clicked onto the site as a guest, not fully committed to the idea of creating an account and subscribing to someone. 

He began looking through the different feeds for the tags he took interest in, but nothing was really catching his eye until he recognized something in the thumbnail for a livestream.

The streamer’s bedroom looked oddly familiar. Maybe it was the placement of the furniture, or the posters on the wall. Kuroo couldn’t shake the feeling he had been there before.

He clicked onto the stream, immediately a banner popped up saying he could only watch a couple minutes of the stream without a subscription. He clicked past it and began watching the video.

A cam-girl sat on her bed, a see-through, lace slip just barely covering her body as she reached somewhere out of the camera’s view for something.

“I have a few toys here we can use today,” something about that voice was so familiar... what was happening? “But I wanted to use something new for my subscribers today!”

She settled back into her spot, a few of the users in the comments section now complaining that they didn’t have a good view of her ass anymore. Kuroo’s jaw almost dropped to the floor as he covered his mouth and screamed into his palm.

The cam-girl was wearing a mask, but Kuroo recognized her instantly as his roommate.

“This came in the mail yesterday!” she smiled, holding up a vibrator. Kuroo remembered taking a package to her room yesterday... was that what was inside? “We all know my old one broke, and I haven’t been able to cum the same without it! Should I use it?”

Kuroo watched, mortified as the comments section blew up. (Y/n) giggled before leaning closer to her camera, giving the viewers a nice look at her cleavage.

“You’re all so eager today! I’ll have to put you in slow-mode!”

Kuroo felt ashamed at his staring, ripping his eyes off her chest to look at the comments instead. He couldn’t stop himself from watching her sit back and take off her lace panties, leaving them to rest on her ankle. She spread her legs, and Kuroo almost flinched away. Almost.

HIs masked roommate turned the vibrator on, and leaned back against the wall her bed rested against. She pressed the toy to her clit and sighed shakily, closing her eyes in bliss.

Just as she tilted her head back and moaned, the stream paused. Kuroo groaned, glaring at the banner that popped up over (Y/n)’s body.

Want to keep watching? Create an account and subscribe to this Streamer! 

Kuroo’s fingers were like lightning as he created his account and submitted his card information. It was 15 bucks a month to subscribe to (Y/n)’s channel, no wonder she could afford to get takeout all the time.

He clicked back onto the screen, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding once the stream resumed.

It felt so wrong watching his roommate play with herself, but hey, at least he was supporting her work!

She slowly rocked her hips against the vibrator, her moans like a symphony. (Y/n) bit her lip and began teasing her vibrator against her slit, moaning louder at the sensation.

Kuroo didn’t know when he began rocking his hips against the laptop rested atop the bulge in his sweatpants, but he soon started moaning in sync with his roommate.

(Y/n) eyes shifted over her screen and she sighed shakily, grinding against the vibrator faster. Kuroo curiously looked away from her and at the comments section, freezing in place when he saw the red text that caught (Y/n)’s eye.

Getting a little loud, doll. Won’t your roommate hear you?

Kuroo gulped at the thought of that comment turning her on. He had to be wrong. His fingers twitched, feeling a sudden urge to type out his own message. He would never know unless he tried...

HIs fingers flew across the keyboard, his hormones doing the typing for him and hitting the ‘enter’ button.

It would be such a shame if your roommate walked in on you, kitten. What if he likes what he sees?

(Y/n) was very obviously staring at the comments section now, her moans sounding less staged and more genuine by the second. Kuroo felt his lips twitch into a smirk and he continued typing.

What if he climbs on top of you and fucks your brains out right in front of us, kitten? Takes you as his without a second thought? That would be such a shame...

(Y/n) moaned louder, this time he heard her through the wall, and she turned up the speed on her vibrator. Kuroo moved the laptop onto his bed and shoved his hand down his sweats, pumping at his hard length while typing with his free hand.

Kitten doesn’t have any other toys to play with for us?

(Y/n) panted hard and reached for something out of the camera’s view. In her free hand, she now held a slim, curved vibrator. She turned it on and began teasing it against her slit while the other worked her clit.

The rest of the comments section were either ignoring Kuroo’s comments or egging him on. He wrote out another comment, rubbing himself faster.

That’s it, kitten. Your roommate’s teasing his cock inside you. He wants you bad but he just wont let you have it.

(Y/n) shook slightly as she prodded the tip of the toy inside herself. Kuroo felt his cock twitch at the sight of her wetness. He continued to watch her tease herself for another few minutes, unable to keep this up once he felt his orgasm approaching.

He typed out one last message, hoping it would push her over the edge.

Yes, kitten. Take that cock. Your roommate’s about to cum, cum with him.

(Y/n) squealed and shut her eyes, finally pushing the vibrator inside herself and cumming hard with a loud moan. The sight of her squirting onto her toys had Kuroo cumming in his sweatpants, his own deep moan bubbling from his chest as he stared at (Y/n)’s flush body.

The two laid on their beds, panting hard as they came down from their orgasms. Kuroo didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until the sound of (Y/n) sitting up and speaking brought him back down from his high. He opened his eyes and watched her set her toys aside.

“Sorry guys, I kind of lost myself there.” she smiled shyly, reading through all the comments being left for her.

He decided to leave her one last comment before leaving the site and taking a shower.

You did so good kitten.

(Y/n) giggled softly and thanked him, then bid the viewers goodbye before ending the stream.

Kuroo quickly left his room and made his way into the bathroom. He threw his dirty clothes in the hamper and took a hot shower.

He left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and began the trek to his bedroom, only to run into (Y/n) on his way there.

“Hey Kuroo! How was class?” she asked, sipping on a juice-box at the kitchen counter. She was wearing sweatpants and a tank-top, her typical relaxing clothes.

Kuroo felt his cheeks burning as he tightened his towel around himself. She had seen him in a towel before, but it was a different experience now that he had masturbated to her.

“I-it was good! Slow as usual but oh well! Just glad to be home!” He was about to retreat to his bedroom when he opted to join her in the kitchen instead. “How was your nap...?”

(Y/n) shrugged, watching him retrieve his own juice-box from the fridge. “It was fine. Usual nap stuff, y’know?”

Kuroo took a sip of his juice, sighing happily as the cool liquid ran down his throat. “I thought I heard your voice earlier, were you up?”

He noticed (Y/n) shift in her seat. “I dunno, I might’ve woken up and yelled to see if you were home. I woke up when I heard you get in the shower.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at her before finishing off his juice and tossing the box in the trash. “Well, I’m gonna get dressed and go meet the guys for some drinks! See you later tonight!”

“See ya! Tell Kenma I say hey!” she called after him, relaxing into her chair as he left.

Kuroo shut the door to his room, breathing a sigh of relief once he was in the privacy of his own bedroom. If things weren’t awkward before, they would be now.

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

Kuroo went straight to bed when he had arrived home from his night out. He hadn’t seen (Y/n) in the livingroom, so he assumed she had gone to sleep early that night.

The next morning, he woke up to a knocking at his door. He dragged himself out of the warmth of his bed and opened the door to meet the icy daggers (Y/n) was glaring at him.

“Morning...?”

“Are you KittenMaster204?”

Kuroo froze at the mention of the account name he set for the streaming website.

“Uhhh... no?”

(Y/n) crossed her arms and tightened her jaw. “I have a subscriber who’s good with computers. I got curious yesterday and had him trace the IP for that username and this address came up!”

Kuroo couldn’t keep his cheeks from turning a deep shade of red. “Okay, yes. Im KittenMaster204...”

“Ugh! You were watching me yesterday?!” she shrieked, tightening her robe around herself.

Kuroo bit his lip, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “I-I couldn’t help it! I clicked on cuz I saw your room looked familiar and then I couldn’t stop watching! It was only yesterday, I swear!”

(Y/n) groaned and blushed darkly, turning away from him. “God! You could have totally not watched!”

“I’m sorry,” he frowned, “Im a weak man... and you’re a beautiful woman. I thought since I paid the full 15 dollar subscription it wouldn’t be too skeevy but it was...”

(Y/n) seemed to perk up for a second and she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Well... it kinda was...”

“Only kinda? I watched you masturbate...”

(Y/n) turned to fully face him, avoiding eye-contact with him. “You did... but you also gave me an idea...”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at her, looking her over as the played with the tie on her silk robe. “Forrrr...?”

“An idea for my 2,000 subscriber special...”

“You have 2,000 subscribers?!”

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

(Y/n) had been moaning away in her room for a while now while Kuroo watched on his laptop in his bedroom. He struggled to keep himself from touching his erection through his sweatpants while he studied the way her chest heaved and her hips jutted while she played with herself.

Then she looked at the camera and licked her lips.

Kuroo sighed deeply before setting the laptop aside and leaving his room. He got over his nerves, took a deep breath, and opened the door to (Y/n)’s room, trying to hold back a laugh as (Y/n) shrieked.

“Toshi! Oh my god!”

Kuroo had made fun of her when she suggested the fake name for him, but he would be lying if he said the roleplaying wasn’t a turnon.

“Ai! What the hell?!” He shouted from his side of the room, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Toshi, out!” she huffed, covering herself with her sheet. 

Kuroo took the mask she had left on her dresser and put it on. “What are you doing!” he insisted, moving to the edge of the bed.

(Y/n) squirmed, biting her lip and glancing between him and her webcam. “I’m livestreaming...”

Kuroo looked deep into her eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation, but found none.

“You don’t need any help?” He pressed, pushing off his pants and kicking them aside.

(Y/n) looked him over, pressing her thighs together at the sight of his naked body. “N-No...I can manage...”

Kuroo climbed onto the bed and slowly crawled towards her like a predator stalking his prey. Once he was in view of the webcam, Kuroo grabbed (Y/n) by her ankles and pulled her towards him.

He saw her lips quirk up into a smile for a moment before she pouted at him. “Toshiiii!” she whined, looking at the webcam, “at least let me turn it oooff!”

‘Toshi’ shook his head and took hold of ‘Ai’s’ wrist as she reached for the laptop. He pinned her wrist above her head and steadily ground his hips against hers.

“They get to watch, Ai. You can’t let your fans miss out on the show, can you?” 

(Y/n) whined softly and squirmed against him, biting her lip and batting her eyes at him in a plea to continue.

Kuroo slowly leaned down and dragged his tongue up her neck towards her lips, which he captured in a heated kiss. (Y/n) stopped squirming and moaned against his lips, arching into him so the lace of her lingerie brushed against his bare chest.

Kuroo nipped her lip before slowly pulling away, smirking down at her as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Why don’t you show me what you were doing kitten?” he cooed, releasing her wrists and sitting back on his haunches. 

(Y/n) shivered at the pet-name while reaching for her long-forgotten vibrator. She turned it on the lowest setting and pressed it to her clit only for Kuroo to snap his fingers in her face.

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, “It was higher than that, kitten.” His stern tone sent a jolt of electricity to her clit.

She reluctantly turned up the speed, moaning shakily at the sudden vibrations. Kuroo smirked down at her and slowly ran his slender fingers up her calves and over her thighs, resting them on her hips.

“That’s it, good kitty... Keep working that pussy...” he murmured, his fingers trailing down to her slit.

(Y/n) gasped at the feeling of his fingertips teasing her lips open. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t fantasized about Kuroo touching her like this. But she never imagined doing it in front of an audience.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Kuroo pressed the tip of his finger inside of her, drawing a soft gasp from her lips. He slowly eased his finger inside of her, then a second finger.

(Y/n) bit her lip to suppress her moans, but Kuroo was having none of that. He took hold of her chin with his free hand and roughly tilted her head to look up at him. “Hide your moans from me again and you’ll get the belt. Got it?”

(Y/n)’s cheeks were on fire. This was heaven. She had died and gone to heaven. That’s what happened.

She moaned at his words, hotter than she had ever moaned on camera. Kuroo brushed his thumb over her lip, pleased with her obedience. He began pumping his fingers into her faster to reward her. “Good kitty...”

(Y/n) moaned louder and began rocking her hips to meet his fingers. Kuroo traced his fingers down her throat and cupped her breast through the thin lace of her lingerie. His fingers teased at her nipple, only pulling away to push the sleeve of her slip down her shoulder to expose her breast. 

He leaned down and captured her nipple between his lips, eagerly suckling on her delicate skin and drawing more wild moans from her.

“T-Toshi, I’m so close...” she whined, arching her back and closing her eyes.

Kuroo traced his tongue up her chest, along her throat, and to the shell of her ear. “Master.” He corrected.

“Master...” she sighed, “I’m so close...”

Kuroo gripped her shoulder, holding her in place as he pumped his fingers into her harder. He glanced down at her legs, making sure the webcam had an adequate angle of her pussy.

“You’ve been so good,” he cooed, brushing the tip of his nose against hers and teasing her lips with his. “You have my permission to cum...”

(Y/n)’s eyes flew shut as she came on his fingers, moaning loudly at the feeling of squirting onto his fingers. Kuroo peppered gentle kisses along the curve of her jaw, whispering soft praises only she could hear against her skin.

“Awww, I make my kitten squirt so much. I bet I’m the only man to do that to you, huh?” he purred, laying her on her side.

(Y/n) whined softly and watched as Kuroo grabbed her legs and pulled her against his thighs. He lifted her leg and bent it at the knee, giving him adequate access to her pussy.

He teased his cock against her entrance, sighing at the feeling of her wetness.

“Master pleaaaase go gentle. I’m still sensitive...” she mewled, batting her eyes at him.

Kuroo licked his lips and eased his length into her, earning a long, deep moan from her that was cut off when he had pushed in to his hilt. Kuroo moaned at her tightness and rolled his hips against her, glancing towards the laptop. He smirked at the comments, groaning as (Y/n) seemed to tighten around him once she realized what he was doing.

“They don’t like that I’m doing this to you, kitten.” Kuroo chuckled, slowly rocking in and out of her, his words almost drowned out by (Y/n)’s moans. “Do you like it, kitty?”

(Y/n) gasped as Kuroo gave a solitary snap of his hips, urging her to answer. “F-fuck, I love it! God, no one ever fucks me like this!”

Kuroo smiled evily towards the webcam, happy that the screen cut off the upper half of his head. He looked more threatening that way, in his eyes. “Say it to the camera, kitten.”

(Y/n) looked into the webcam, opening her mouth to speak only to be cut off as Kuroo thrusted into her harder. “F-Fuck! Fuuck! Uuugh! I love it! Fuck! I love it when my roommate fucks me like this!” 

Kuroo growled softly, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“Fuck this...”

He pulled out and flipped (Y/n) onto her stomach, then roughly pushed back into her heat.

(Y/n) shrieked and clung to her sheets tightly, arching her back at the feeling of Kuroo filling her pussy completely. Kuroo took hold of her hips and pulled her to meet his hard thrusts, his moans harmonizing with (Y/n)’s.

“Kitten’s so fucking tight... Kitten’s gonna make me cum inside of her...” Kuroo said, earning something between a whine, a moan, and a scream from (Y/n). She buried her head in the covers and screamed shakily. 

He smirked and slowed down his thrusts, opting to thrust into her deeper and hit her g-spot. “Ooooo, does kitten want me to cum inside her?” he teased, punctuating every other word with a deep thrust. “Does kitten want master’s cum?”

Kuroo grabbed a fistful of (Y/n)’s hair and lifted her head so she could speak. “If kitten doesn’t speak up, she won’t get master’s cum...” he tsked.

(Y/n) whined shakily, her voice hoarse as she begged. “Pleaaaase, master! Pleaaase! Cum inside meee!”

Kuroo released her head and took hold of her shoulder, digging his fingers into her as he sped up his thrusts. He pulled her to sit up straight, her back flush against his bare chest. Spit dripped past her lips as he took hold of her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks.

Kuroo pressed a kiss to the shoulder the webcam had no view of. He peppered kisses on her earlobe and whispered against her flesh. “Let go, (Y/n)... I have you...”

(Y/n) let out one more scream as she came on Kuroo’s cock. She gripped his arms and shook hard, whining loudly as he continued thrusting into her.

Kuroo felt his dick twitch inside (Y/n) before he buried himself deep inside her heat and came. He moaned, growled, and cursed as he pulled her body flush against his, emptying himself inside her pussy.

They both sat there, winding down from their orgasms together as the comments section blew up. (Y/n) grew tired of the notification noises and turned off the stream before shutting her laptop.

Kuroo took off her mask before taking off his own. He peppered gentle kisses on her shoulders and the back of her neck before hugging her waist and pulling her to lay down beside him.

“Holy fuck...” he murmured, closing his eyes as (Y/n) cuddled into his side.

“Yeah...” she sighed, “holy fuck...”

Kuroo pulled her into a lazy kiss, tangling his fingers in her hair as he moaned against her lips.

When the two parted, (Y/n) had a coy smile playing on her lips, despite her fatigue. “Can you be a regular on my stream...?”

Kuroo chuckled before planting another kiss on her lips. “Anything for my kitten...”

[aka-indulgence]

Feliz Naga-dad

Hello AKA! :3

So, after I saw the post with the snake climbing the tree and read your tags, I was inspiried to write a Naga Sans x Reader one-shot based on your idea. I then added a little Christmas spin to it for the holidays. I hope you enjoy my little Christmas gift to you, and thank you so much for all the amazing content you make throughout the year!

Merry Christmas! - Cal

__________________________________________________

You could still hear them.

The shrill laugh of your aunt who may or may not have had too much eggnog. Your mom’s sweet but stern voice calling your dad to come help her in the kitchen. Your tiny cousin’s squealing as one races to catch the other. Even the blaring Christmas music is audible through the house’s thin suburban walls. Sure it’s muffled, but as much as the wind tries to drown the merriment out with it’s howling, you could still hear it clearly from your old tire swing. You felt as if you were inside with them.

But you aren't.

No. You were outside, in the dim moonlight, in your parent’s backyard, alone. Why? Because you felt better being alone outside with just you and the moon, than alone inside with your parents and relatives. Not that you hated your family or Christmas or anything like that. You just . . . didn’t feel as happy as the rest of them. You didn’t have the same “holiday spirit”. So feeling left out and guilty for not having fun like everyone else, you slipped outside for some fresh air and silence.

Only the air isn’t fresh or silent. The low babble of noise is a constant reminder of what you’re missing out on, and the bitter wind makes you feel as cold and empty as you do within. Tightening your grip on your childhood swing, you rock back and forth, grazing your feet against the ground. You stare blankly at the forest beyond the old fence a few feet away, wallowing in your self-inflicted misery.

There isn't even any snow.

It always snowed in time for Christmas. But tonight is Christmas eve and there’s not so much as a flurry. In fact, it had been unusually warm right up until a week ago. Then all of the cold that this area had expected since October suddenly poured over the mountain peaks surrounding it. But still, not a single snowfall. Logically you know it’s because of abnormal weather patterns and such, but you feel the real reason is because even the snow knows that this Christmas is different.

It's different because this is your first Christmas coming home from university. Having arrived just yesterday, you had missed doing so much. You’d missed helping your mom with the community cookie drive. You’d missed decorating the tree and drinking eggnog with dad. You’d missed watching your little cousin’s school pageant. And instead of spending tonight watching your favorite Christmas movies until 1 a.m, your mom decided to host a family party since you’re in town, effectively ruining the last Christmas tradition you hadn’t missed.

You sniffled, barely able to feel the tears streaming down your numb cheeks.

You know you should be inside enjoying the holiday with the people you love . . . but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Not when it all felt so wrong- so unlike Christmas. You wish you could feel happy like them. You wish Christmas had stayed the same and nothing had changed. You wish you weren’t crying outside in the cold darkness, freezing your bare fingers off, and spending your Christmas eve feeling so utterly alone-

CRACK

You jolt in your seat. Blinking back to reality, you squint in the direction of the sound. That direction being directly in front of you. You wonder if maybe it was just a blustery wind snapping a dead branch. But as you look, you think you see one of the bushes jostling like it was being tugged at by an animal. It could be a neighbor’s dog or cat that got stuck, or maybe a woodland creature from the nearby mountain. In case it was the former, you stiffly stood up and walked a few steps toward it. 

“Hello?” you call out softly. You don’t expect a response, but you hope if it really is an animal, that it would react to your voice. 

Nothing.

You wait a few more seconds, staring hard at the bush, when you finally spot the creature. At least, you think that’s an animal you’re looking at. You can’t see it’s silhouette, but you can make out two white dots. Probably the moon reflecting off the dark pupils of a lost puppy or a scared doe. You ignore how intensely they stare back and smile at it, hunching over so that you wouldn’t frighten it away.

“Hey . . . it’s okay. Come‘ere. I won’t hurt you, I promise,” you say, holding out your hand.

If it’s a deer, then your approach will probably frighten it away, but if it’s a dog like you hope, then your calm voice and outstretched hand should be enough to coax it to come to you.  

But the creature doesn’t move toward either the forest or you. It just keeps staring. It was so still that you wonder if it’s just the moonlight tricking your eyes. But you wouldn’t give up yet. Maybe it really was stuck inside the bush somehow. If so, you had to help it- otherwise it’ll freeze to death in this cold.

Taking another step forward, you try again.

“Are you stuck? Just hang on and I’ll . . . help . . . y-you . . .”

You falter as the two white dots slowly rise into the air, never breaking eye contact with you. You stand up straight, but the dots keep going higher, forcing you to tilt your head up to look at it. It slipped from out of the shadows and stood underneath the pale light, letting you see what kind of creature stood before you.

It was a skeleton.

It towered over the fence, over you. The bones of its body looked thicker than any human skeleton you’d seen and it’s large head was rounder too. It’s teeth glistened as it smiled at you, but the smile felt fake and not-so-friendly. And the white dots staring at you weren’t reflecting off it’s eyes- they were its eyes. At least, they seemed to function like pupils within it’s hollow sockets. They stared right through you.

Your own eyes widen with terror as you slowly stumble backwards. Your brain wasn’t convinced the skeleton was real, but your gut told you that it was and your body acted accordingly, trying to put as much distance between you and the threat. It occurs to you to scream for help, but your voice is stuck in your throat. With a thud, your back hits the tree behind you, stopping your steady retreat.

The entire time the skeleton stayed still. It’s gaze never left yours, but it hadn’t reacted to you since it moved. You felt a small spark of hope. Maybe it wasn’t going to harm you? Maybe it's just curious? But even if that's true, you didn’t want to spend another moment outside with it. Sprinting the twenty feet to the house was your safest bet, but also your biggest gamble. That left you with only one other choice: your old, dilapidated tree house.

Maneuvering your hands behind you, you felt the wooden blocks that made up the ladder to the fort above. They were nailed into the tree itself, so they would be able to support your weight, right? You’re pretty thin as it is. And while the tree house isn't the best escape route, it is the closest. You remain rooted to the spot with indecision, your shallows breaths creating a barely visible vapour in the air.

The crackling of leaves and twigs break the tense silence as the skeleton starts moving towards you. 

Instantly you spin around and start climbing. The bark catches on your coat and the splintering wood scratches up your hands, but you don’t care. You’re just desperate to get away from the creature. Even if it isn’t real and you aren’t in any danger, you are driven by pure fear now. Fortunately or unfortunately the tree house isn't that high and you reach the top in a matter of seconds. Pulling yourself up through the hole above you and onto the creaky floor, you sit on your knees and pant heavily. 

You made it.

But as safe as you feel in the darkness of your old tree house, you know you aren’t truly safe. Not yet. The skeleton is still down there, and it knows where you are.  ̶Y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶s̶c̶r̶e̶w̶e̶d̶.̶  As much as you want to curl up and close your eyes in the vain hope that doing so would make it go away, you have to check. You have to make sure it’s gone. So lying flat on your stomach, you grip the edge of the opening and peer down.

You gasp sharply.

The skeleton is still down there alright. It stands directly below you, looking up with its unblinking stare. But that isn’t why you gasped. The reason for your shock started at its hips and extended far beyond, looping several times around the base of the tree. A tail. It's massive- much wider than you and covered in glimmering blue scales that seemed to dip in between shades when it moved. 

It was the snake from the mountain.

The one you grew up hearing rumors about. A giant snake monster that no one had seen, but somehow everyone knew existed. The one that was always blamed for the disappearance of daring hikers who never returned. The one you thought about as a kid when looking at the mountain through your bedroom window. The skeleton half is a surprise, but you know without a doubt that this is the snake.

You feel a chill colder than the wintery air shiver through your entire body.  

Why is it in town? It had never come this close before, and you have lived your entire short life here and you're gonna die here too. Maybe hunger drove it to seek food outside its territory? If so, you were the perfect snack for it, just sitting all alone in the cold night. Then in a blind panic, you’d trapped yourself in your small, defenseless tree house, allowing it to easily climb up and eat you. You feel your throat tighten.

Please don’t come up here. Please don’t come up here. Please. Just leave. Don’t climb up here, please. Please!

Finally, the monster breaks eye contact with you and looks at the tree.

Please . . . please just leave. Please go away!

It slowly moves around to the other side of the trunk and out of your line of sight. Your breathing quickens.

Yes! Yes, that’s it! Leave. Go back home and-

The monster suddenly slithered back into view, only this time it was higher. 

It stares up at you, locking you in place with it’s gaze as it grips the tree with its boney hands. Meanwhile its tail circles the tree, loop after loop, until all of it is tightly secured around the trunk. Then its skeleton half moved again, before disappearing and reappearing a moment later, now much higher than before- at least half way up the tree.

It was climbing.

You want to scream. You want your parents, your family, anybody, to come rushing outside and save you. But you can’t scream. You can’t even look away as the monster continues to climb higher and higher, its snake tail slowly coiling around the trunk one loop at a time. 

It was kinda . . . mesmerizing to watch.

In fact, if you didn't feel so horrified by the reality that every time his  tail looped higher up the tree, you were another second closer to your inevitable death, you’d be intrigued by the sight. You can’t help it. You’ve always been fascinated with snakes ever since you were young enough to beg for a pet one. It’s probably why you were so curious about the snake-monster as a child. Now that curiosity is literally about to kill you.  

The skeleton half disappears around the tree again, breaking you out of your hypnotic stupor. When it comes back, it’s so close that if you reached out, you could easily touch its skull. The thought sends you scrambling away from the hole. You toss the debris aside and huddle into one of the corners, hugging your knees to your chest. You take one last look at the opening before squeezing your eyes shut. You’re too scared to cry.

This is it.

This is how you will die. At the hands of a creature that up until two minutes ago you didn’t believe really existed. On Christmas Eve. Alone. And it’s all your fault. If only you’d stayed indoors and tried to enjoy the party, instead of stupidly hosting your own little pity-party outside, then your parents wouldn’t have lost their only child on Christmas. You wish you could see them one last time and tell them goodbye, and that you’re sorry you-

“hello.”   

Your eyes fly open and flit over to where you heard the deep, whispery voice. Your heart skips a beat as you see the skeleton in the opening. Its hands grasp the edge of the floor while its skull and shoulders protrude out into the room, blocking almost all light from below. But you don’t need light to see its two burning, white eyes staring at you with the same intensity as before. Only now, the bone above its sockets is slightly furrowed like actual eyebrows.

“what’ssss wrong?”

You gawk at the skeleton-snake monster.

It can talk!?

It . . or he (at least, it sounds like a he) is not only sentient, but can actually communicate with you? With english words? Of course, him being not only a snake-skeleton monster, but a talking snake-skeleton monster isn't the craziest part of your situation. But why is he talking? Why hasn’t he just eaten you already? Why is he just staring and . . . and . . .

 . . . did he just ask what’s wrong?

You blink, realise you haven’t answered him, and fumble for a response. But words keep slipping past your tongue like a wet bar of soap. How are you even supposed to respond to a question like that!? “Oh, nothing’s wrong Mr. Snake-skeleton, except for the fact that you climbed up here to eat me.” Yeah, that'd go over real swell. Your frazzled mind settles for your automatic response to that question.

“N-nothing’s wr-wrong. I-I’m fine,” you croak.

The skeleton’s eyebrows(?) furrow even more and while he’s still smiling, it feels more like a frown.

Oops. Wrong answer.

“tearssss. why?” he hisses, pointing to his cheek.

You lift your fingertips to your face. It’s still damp from earlier. 

He saw you cry? How long had he been there watching you?

As disturbing as that question is, you’re more focused on the monster’s question. More specifically, the way he said it. He sounded curious  ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶k̶i̶n̶d̶a̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶c̶e̶r̶n̶e̶d̶?̶  Maybe . . . maybe he isn’t here to eat you. Maybe if you satisfy his curiosity, he’ll go away? It couldn’t hurt to try. Licking your dry lips, you give him the truth.    

“I, uh . . I cried b-because I was sad. My . . my family, they’re having f-fun without me, and- and I felt left out and alone . . so I came outside to cry.”

It sounds really stupid now that you say it outloud. Like something an angsty teen instead of a mentally-developed adult would do. You should have told him something more believable- like you had injured yourself. But you’re too overwhelmed trying to process what’s happening to think up a lie. 

Fortunately for you, the monster appears to believe you, as his expression changes from  ̶c̶o̶n̶c̶e̶r̶n̶  curiosity to a look of . . . understanding? It’s too dark to tell for certain, but you swear you see his eye, uh, lights, soften for a moment. Maybe it’s just your desperation to live, but he looks less like he’s about to eat you the longer you stare at him.  

“want to sssstay alone?”

You rub your wet nose on your coat sleeve and look away.

“N-no, I don’t really wanna be alone, but I . . . I d-don’t want to make them feel bad, with me being down ‘n all. It’s better if I just stay out here.”

It’s silent for a few moments. You fiddle with your coat sleeve, hoping your answers were enough to get the monster to leave. But he doesn’t move. You rack your brain for something to say but the skeleton speaks first.

“can i ssssstay?”

You stare at him in disbelief.

Did this ginormous, man-eating monster just ask if he could stay with you?

He was 3 times your size. He could break your neck with just two of his fingers. You have no way of stopping him from killing you, much less to stop him from getting inside the tree house. Yet here he is, asking you permission? You eye him suspiciously and wonder if this was some kind of trick- like how vampires can’t enter a house without being invited in. You choose your next words carefully.

“You . . . you just wanna come in here and . . . sit with me? That’s it? You’re not gonna- kill me and swallow me whole -do anything else?” 

The skeleton nods affirmatively. 

It’s so deliberate and solemn, that even though you have no reason to, you believe him. You believe that, for whatever odd and bizarre reason, this sentient snake-skeleton monster just wants to sit with you in your decaying old tree house. 

You should say no. You should take your chance and tell him to leave. Even if he comes in anyway, at least you tried. You have nothing to lose.  

“. . .  o-okay.”

Maybe it’s your own curiosity, or your desire to not be completely alone on Christmas eve. Or maybe you just have a death wish. Regardless of whatever forced that one little word past your blue lips, there’s no going back now. You curl your knees tighter to your chest and watch the monster with bated breath.

Like his nod, he’s slow and deliberate as he heaves the rest of his skeleton half through the opening. How he’s able to fit his broad skeleton shoulders through that square hole is a mystery. Your eyes follow him as he drags his way over to the opposite corner. He sitatues himself, placing his hands-claws-in his ‘lap’ and bending his head over despite it still touching the wooden ceiling. 

You look over at the opening just as his tail starts to slither in. It spills into the tiny tree house like a tube of toothpaste being squeezed. Only instead of toothpaste, it’s thick coils of shining- no, glowing blue scales. You couldn’t tell before in the moonlight, but in the near darkness of the tree house, you see that the tail itself is glowing and pulsating with a soft azure light. It’s hypnotising to look at, and you feel somewhat disappointed when the tip of the tail finally emerges and settles a few inches away from you. 

He’s completely inside now- his enormous tail piling on top of itself in the cramped tree house. You push down your panic as you see that your only escape route is now blocked by his appendage. Despite  feeling somewhat claustrophobic and suffocated, you do your best to ignore them and direct your focus to the skeleton.

Just like he said, he’s not . . . doing anything. He’s just sitting and staring at you. He doesn’t even look like he’s breathing. His unwavering stare pierces through you in the darkness, making you feel a bit uncomfortable. Still, he’s not crushing your windpipes and devouring you, so you suppose you’re alright for now.

Yeah . . . you’re fine.

This is fine.

This is . . . .

. . . . awkward.

You glance down at the floor. Should you say something? The monster knows english, but he doesn't seem like much of a conversationalist. What do you even say to a snake-skeleton-monster  ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶w̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶e̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶C̶h̶r̶i̶s̶t̶m̶a̶s̶ ̶d̶i̶n̶n̶e̶r̶? Small talk seems kinda pointless. Maybe you could ask if he is-

“cold?”

Your eyes snap back to the monster, only to see he’s no longer looking at your face, but at your hands. They’re trembling. Whether from fear-shot nerves or the cold, you’re not sure. But you are cold if the quiet chatter of your teeth is anything to go by. You glance sheepishly up at the skeleton and nod.

He pats the only space left in the room between your feet and his skeletal body.

“ssssssit.”

Your body tenses up, but the softness in his voice makes you feel as though he doesn’t have any bad intentions. And it’s not like moving out your corner is putting yourself in more danger than you’re already in. After a second or two, curiosity overcomes your caution and you scoot the few inches over to the spot.

Immediately, his tail begins to move. You freeze as fear shoots through you like electricity, leaving you to helplessly watch as his appendage circles around you. It loops twice around your legs before coiling up to your waist. It finally stops with the tip resting in your lap. You wait for it to squeeze you, but it doesn’t. It’s not even that restricting- feeling more like a weighted blanket tucked around you than the deadly grip of a predator trapping its prey.

You gently lower your hands onto his tail, a little bit excited to finally feel his scales. To your surprise, they’re soft and squishy and warm. Like, really warm. The heat radiating from his tail not only seeps into your numb fingers, but your entire body. And is it just your eyes getting used to the dark, or is his tail glowing even brighter all of a sudden? You look up at the skeleton to see him genuinely smiling.

“warm?”

Your eyes widen a bit. He’s attempting to warm you up with his tail! You’re not sure how, since snakes are supposed to be cold-blooded, but you chalk it up to him being a snake-skeleton monster. But as fascinated as you are by this display of his unique biology, you’re more touched by the gesture itself. You let yourself relax and smile back.

“Y-yes, I’m much warmer now, thank you, um . . .”

You falter, realising you don’t know his name. Does he even have one? You decide you could at least give him yours.

“. . I’m (y/n), by the way.”

The lids of his sockets droop, leaving you baffled at how that even works.

“ssssssans. sssssans the sssssskeleton.”

You giggle. You can’t help it. Not only is it a weird name, but he chooses to introduce himself as a skeleton, when at the same time he hisses his ‘s’ like a snake. It just caught you off guard. 

“what’ssss sssso funny?”

You stop laughing and cough.

“N-nothing. I just . . . t-this has been a really strange Christmas, that’s all,” you lie, not wanting to insult him for laughing at him.

Sans tilts his skull to the side.

“chrisssstmassss?”

“Y-yeah, Christmas. It’s um, it’s a holiday we humans celebrate. Family and friends get together and exchange gifts in the morning, bake cookies, watch Christmas movies, sing carols, and do lots of other fun stuff,” you explain, hoping you don’t sound condescending. 

“carolssss?”

“That’s just a word for Christmas songs. People a long time ago used to stand outside and sing them together and that’s called ‘caroling’. But it’s not very popular to do that anymore. Although . . .”

You trail off, a smile growing on your face as a favorite memory of yours surfaces in your mind. 

“. . . when I was a kid, I loved the idea of caroling and wanted to do it, but none of my friends would go with me. So it ended up just being me and my dad. We went to every house on the street and I would go up and sing to them. I only knew two songs by heart and I wasn’t very good at singing. My poor dad had to listen to me squeakily sing the same songs over and over for an hour to our neighbors. But my dad wasn't mortified. He was actually proud of me for spreading Christmas cheer and said that we could do it again next Christmas. So we did, on every single Christmas eve after that. I think we did it until I turned 16. That’s when we started watching Christmas movies instead.”

You finish your story, forgetting all about Sans as you reminisce over your past Christmases. You realise just how much they’ve changed as you’ve grown up. How the old traditions were switched out for new, more age-appropriate ones as the years passed. The changes never made your Christmas any less like a Christmas, just a different kind  . . . of . . . one . . . 

“can you sssssing?” 

His gentle hiss jolts you back to the present.

“Oh . . . u-um . . . you want me to sing a Christmas song for you?”

Sans nods, his fuzzy white lights expanding ever so slightly.

“Uh, okay. Um, let’s see . . .”

You absent-mindedly pick at one of his pliable scales as you try to think of a song you know all the words to. A few come to mind, but “Grandma got run over by a reindeer” doesn't feel very fitting at the moment. Your mind drifts back to your caroling days and you remember singing “Carol of the bells”. You still know all the words to that, right? Probably.

Clearing your throat, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away, Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold . . .”

Your voice is a bit scratchy at first, but it smoothes out as you continue. Even though you’re singing softly, your voice still sounds loud in the still darkness. You feel self-conscious at first, but that quickly wears off. After all, you’ve sung in front of complete strangers before. If you ignore the fact that this particular stranger is a 20 foot snake monster, then it’s not so different. Actually, you’re quite enjoying yourself. Singing always makes you happy, and as you sit comfortably in the warm coils of this gentle beast, you feel your mood improving. 

“. . .merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas . . .”

Your voice fades as you finish singing and the silence returns, feeling even emptier now. You look up at Sans to see his reaction and it’s . . . not what you expected. His eye-socket lids are even lower than before and the white lights in his eyes are the brightest you’ve seen yet. And his smile- it looks so affectionate. You think you see a blue-colored blush on his cheeks, but that could just be the glow from his scales reflecting off his face.

“pretty,” he hums fondly. 

Your cheeks suddenly feel warm, and it’s not from the heat his tail is radiating.

“Thank you,” you mumble bashfully. “I . . . it’s my favorite Christmas song. Do you like it? T-the song, I mean?” 

“yesssss.” He says, but those eyes tell you he’s not talking about the song. 

Sans suddenly raises one of his hands toward your face. Plucking a few strands of wind-blown hair from behind your ear, he runs his boney fingers across it. He’s caressing it so gently that you barely feel anything.

Weirdly enough, you don't feel scared or nervous. Mostly just confused and . . . oddly touched? Against your better judgment, you’re starting to like Sans. He acts more like a curious, docile cat that just wants some company than a fearsome, blood-thirsty predator. He even seemed to like  ̶y̶o̶u̶  your singing.

Your hands move on their own and grab his, pulling it into your lap. It dwarfs both your hands and the bone feels unnatural to touch, but you can feel a faint warmth coming from it. You feel like one of those people in cat videos who hold their cat's paw. It could scratch you, but you trust it won’t. And it doesn’t. 

The skeleton continues smiling at you, and you smile back- this time sincerely. 

“Sans . . . do you-”

  SLAM

  You jump at the sound and stop speaking, letting go of his hand. Your head swivels towards the wall closest to the house and you hold your breath, as if you are afraid of getting caught. Then out of the darkness, you hear your mother’s muffled voice calling for you. 

“(y/n)! (y/n), it’s time for dinner! . . . (y/n)!”

You don’t answer her. You’re not sure why. You could scream now and get rescued by your family. But you don’t need rescuing anymore. So you  stay silent and listen. 

After a moment, you hear the backdoor slam a second time. Now the only thing you hear is your own heavy breathing. You turn back to Sans. The white lights are thin pricks now. They shift their focus from the wall you looked at back to your face. His smile is tight and sharp, giving you the impression he’s on edge. You gently rub his tail, hoping to put him at ease.

“Sorry Sans, but . . . I have to leave now. I uh . . . I need to eat.”

Sans doesn’t respond, his eyelights still razor thin. Instead, you feel his tail squeeze ever so slightly. Not enough to restrict your breathing or anything, but enough to make your heart rate pick up. He . .  he isn’t going to make you stay, is he? He’d let you go if you asked him to, right? 

You swallow thickly and try to keep your smile from faltering.

“Sans . . . I need to go. P-please let go of me now.”

For a second, he doesn’t react. Then he blinks, slowly, and lets out a hiss-y sigh. When he opens his eyes again, the lights are round and fuzzy again. His tail starts to move away until the hole in the floor is exposed, the light from below now pouring in. You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the sight. 

You wait for his tail to start uncoiling itself from around you, only for it to suddenly tighten and travel past your waist and up under your arms. You grip the tail now on your chest, too lost in your confusion to panic. It then picks you and drags you toward the hole. You look frantically to Sans for some explanation, but he just keeps smiling, not at all bothered by your distress. 

The floor suddenly gives out and your legs fall through. You whimper and shut your eyes, expecting to drop the 15 feet to the ground. But you don’t, thanks to Sans’ secure grip on your upper body. You keep your eyes closed until your dangling legs land on solid earth. As you stand, his warm tail slithers up and over you, the tip lingering just a second within your hair. Now that it’s gone, you feel cold again and shiver.

Looking up, you see Sans looking down at you, his blue glow outlining the silhouette of his skull. He’s smiling his neutral perma smile, but his eyelights still look softly at you. You grin and lift a hand to wave goodbye.

“Thanks for keeping me company Sans. I feel much better now. Take care and Merry Christmas!”

He doesn’t say anything back. He doesn’t even wave. Oh well, it’s fine. You're used to his lack of a reaction. You give him one more warm smile before turning on your heels and trudging toward the house. 

Just a few minutes ago, you were ready to run for your life in this direction, but now you don’t even bother to look behind you. And while you’re eager to spend the rest of your night enjoying Christmas with your family, you can’t help but feel a little sad that you have to leave Sans. You’ve just made friends with the snake of the mountain, who as it turns out, is more than just a hungry beast people painted him out to be. And while you don’t live in this area anymore, you hope you can see him again next time you visit.

You stop with your hand on the door knob and turn to look back at the tree house. 

“Until next Christmas, Sans.”

-------

Submitted by @calcium-cat

aWWWWWWW OH WOW THIS WAS SO SWEET AND WARM AND NICE,,, ;A;;;

AWW,, Im,, so happy! Sorry it took long to reading this since Im a little busy but!!! Gah,, this is so sweet... I love it, he just looks scary but he's so gentle... aa,, I wonder how long Sans knew you...and wish you'd have more time with him ahu,,,

Thank you so much for this Cal, it's such a wonderful gift ;w;; Im late but I hope you had a Merry Christmas and have a nice holiday!! ♡♡♡

[writingwife-83]

#35, Reylo

35. "Whoa. Easy, easy. I've got you."

Ok so this idea hit me hard and fast (and then @thisisartbylexie also got excited and that hyped me up even more lol) so I went a bit beyond the bounds of drabble and into a more legit one shot hehe. Hope you enjoy this anon! 🥰

I’ve Got You

Rey pulled on the reins, pleading, yelling for the horse to slow and relax, but to no avail. Poor Deo, he tended to be far too skittish, and she should have known not to ride him by the stream where she’d seen snakes more than once.

Rey let out a little yelp as Deo leapt over a log, barely clearing it. She was far enough out on the property that if she was thrown or if Deo lost his footing she couldn’t be certain anyone would hear her cries for help or be able to find her. At least, not for quite some time.

Suddenly, something sped by her and she wasn’t fully aware of what it was until Deo came to a halt, rearing up and neighing as she continued to try and calm him. It wasn’t until she felt someone else taking hold of the reins that she realized what was happening.

“Whoa! Easy, easy. I’ve got you.”

Rey stared down, agape, processing the fact that it was Ben Solo who had apparently come to her aid.

Of course it was him, she thought with a groan.

“Get down,” he said, offering his free hand.

Rey huffed at that command. “I’m sure Deo will be fine now.”

“He’s obviously not,” Ben countered, still holding the reins along with her as Deo attempted to rear out of the grasp, proving his point. “He needs to calm down before you keep riding, unless you’re hoping to get thrown.”

Ben offered his hand again, and Rey attempted to bypass it completely and hop down on her own. But her attempt was poorly executed and thanks to her haste and already wobbly legs, the move propelled her directly into Ben’s chest.

His free arm wrapped instantly around her, holding her steady before assisting in lowering her feet to the ground. Rey was more than a little flustered, and no doubt red in the face by the time she shoved herself away from him, smoothing down her skirts and tucking some of the many unruly tendrils of hair behind her ears.

“This really isn’t necessary!” she called after him as he tied Deo to a nearby tree and then did the same for his own horse.

Ben laughed dryly, shaking his head as he walked back over to her. “‘Thank you, Ben. I appreciate your help.’ I think those are the words you're actually searching for.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “I don’t need your kind of help.”

He frowned. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everything comes at a price!” Rey bit back. “Just like with my grandfather! Always scheming and selfish. You don’t help people because you care, you help people who can give you something! It’s no wonder you’ve become his precious apprentice.”

He’d been living on the estate for nearly a year, and she’d done her best to have as little dealing with him as she could. It seemed to Rey that he’d latched onto her grandfather like a leech, the older man all too pleased to have a young and eager man to train in the business. Grandfather Palpatine had been disappointed in having only a granddaughter to carry on the name, disappointed she wasn’t meek and obedient and willing to marry the first rich man who looked her way, and disappointed that she cared nothing for the family name and money.

Ben stared at her for a moment, statuesque aside from the slightest twitch of his lips before finally replying. His words were quiet and calm. “You don’t know me.”

“I know everything I need to know about you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against a tree. “Do you?”

“I know you want my grandfather’s money and his business,” she stated bitterly, picking little bits of dirt from her blouse which had flown up as Deo charged through the mud. “You want all that power.”

He barely looked up, a single laugh escaping his lips. “Oh, is that what I want?”

“It is!” Rey was swept up in the adrenaline of her wild ride and the fact that he’d shown up at the same moment. She’d needed to get all this off her chest for a while and this was an easy way to let it happen. “And you’re willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want. You’re not exactly a man who’s burdened with scruples. You’ll no doubt win Grandfather’s admiration and do his bidding until he finally decides to put you in the will. And if all that doesn’t work, you’d surely even be willing to stoop so low as to-“

Rey stopped mid thought as she suddenly found herself face to face with words that she’d never even been consciously aware of and didn’t want to speak aloud. And that wasn’t all she was also suddenly face to face with.

Ben had quickly closed the distance between them and was staring her down, his stance almost challenging. She wasn’t afraid though, and she met his burning gaze without faltering.

“What? What would I stoop to?” he pushed, his voice low like distant thunder. “Say it.”

Rey swallowed thickly, squaring her shoulders and refusing to back down. “You would force your way into this family one way or another,” she replied coolly, opting for diplomatic wording.

When Ben lifted his hand she jumped ever so slightly, making him pause, and for a split second she thought she saw genuine hurt in his eyes. His hand moved more slowly then, and then she felt his fingers touch some of the badly rumpled hair at the side of her head. With a quirk of his brow, he finally produced a little twig, holding it up for her to see before tossing it aside.

“I don’t force my way into anything,” he said firmly. “But you wouldn’t know that, would you? Because like I said before, you don’t know me. And you certainly don’t know what I want.”

Rey nearly swayed on her feet as Ben turned and walked away from her, as if they’d been physically connected for those brief moments, and the separation that followed had upset her very balance.

She watched him walk over to Deo, the wind admittedly out of her sails and feeling lost for words. She reluctantly noted the way Deo accepted Ben’s touch with absolute calm, despite his usual skittish nature. His large but gentle hands smoothed down the horse’s face and neck, speaking soft words that Rey couldn’t quite make out.

“I can ride back with you.”

It was more a statement than an offer, and Rey was sure that if it had come only minutes earlier she’d have thrown it back in his face along with a string of angry words. But she couldn’t find it in herself to do that now.

“You don’t have to do that,” she instead replied quietly as he untied Deo, holding him steady as she approached and prepared to mount.

“I know,” Ben replied, but mounted his own horse once she was settled, nudging him over to walk with Deo. “I’m still riding back to the stables with you.”

Rey said nothing, no fight left in her as both their horses set off slowly. They both stayed silent all the way back, forcing Rey to do nothing but replay every strange and confusing moment of this encounter.

As they eventually neared the stables, Rey found that a million new and unanswered questions were now darting around in her brain, and she couldn’t quite let them rest.

“What do you want?” she blurted out, making him tug back on the reins to stop next to her. “You said I don’t know what you want. So what is it really? What do you want?”

Ben stared back at her for a moment, as if contemplating his answer, before he simply said, “Change.”

The little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, as if she could feel all the weight of meaning behind that one word. As if she could foresee the hazy shape of the way it could turn her entire world upside down.

“At least,” he added. “That’s part of what I want.”

“And…what else?” Rey questioned softly, her throat feeling parched.

She thought she saw the slightest tug at the corner of his lips, but then he pressed them together, as if they needed steadying before parting again to answer.

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

And with those cryptic words, Ben continued the rest of the short distance to the stables, leaving Rey once again dumbfounded and also wondering if he was right. Perhaps she didn’t really know Ben Solo.

Far more surprising was the realization that for the first time…she wanted to.

[yunhowhoitiss]

𝐜𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐮𝐦

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐞𝐦)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k+

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, fantasy au (?), slow burn, angst if you squint, ft co-worker jongho :)

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You’re finally starting to make ends meet when you start working at your school’s local café, but the world is so full of surprises.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader panics a bit(?)

𝐚/𝐧: I came up with this at 4am a couple days ago so it’s not my proudest, but I felt bad just letting it sit in my drafts so here you go :) enjoy!

masterlist

The gentle smell of freshly baked pastries, accompanied by the stronger aroma of ground coffee beans, wafted through the comfy café. There was a constant chatter as customers scattered around the joint whilst waiting, disguising the soft hum coming from behind the coffee machine. Your face was out of sight, except your hair peeked out above the espresso machine where you were pouring a latté, entertaining yourself by decorating a small heart in the foam. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your eyes turned to soft crescents when soft wisps of your hair had fallen out of your bun and across the sides of your forehead. The steam floating from the cup caressed your hands as you picked up the mug along with an assortment of macaroons. 

“Order for Julie: four macaroons, a chai latté, and an espresso affogato, extra dry!” You announced through the coffee shop, turning a few heads. 

You made your way back to the station to continue other orders but stopped as you noticed something missing; you had run out of cinnamon to top off drinks. Your coworker ought to know where another carton would be, so you turned towards the kitchen to find him wrist-deep in bread dough. 

“Jongho, where are the extra containers of cinnamon again?”

“Oh, those are in the grey cabinet below the pastry display,” he smiled back, all the while kneading the dough. 

Flashing him an ‘ok’ sign, you headed back to the front of the shop. You hadn’t been working at the Crescent Café very long, but you happened to be a pretty fast learner, according to Jongho; you could make latte art before other trainees could even make a latte. Quickly getting back to work, you served a customer until something caught you eye whilst jotting down an order on your notepad; had the writing been on your wrist all day? It must just be something I wrote down earlier, you thought.

As the sun made its way towards the horizon, you returned to the comfort of your small apartment to freshen up, eat dinner, and momentarily forget your academic responsibilities— homework, ugh-- before heading to school again the next day. You entered you apartment with a relived sigh and threw your keys onto a nearby dresser, mumbling "I'm home" to nobody in particular. Too lazy to go to your room, you simply undressed as you walked towards the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind you. Note to self: clean that up later. 

The moment you stepped into the shower, your shoulders loosened as the hot water washed away your tension. The writing on your wrist caught your eye again. Scrutinizing the messy handwriting, you saw what seemed to be a shopping list. 

“Eggs, lucky charms, and aftershave,” you read aloud. 

Aftershave? I don’t use that. Could it be… you were lost thought, not noticing the warm steam filling the bathroom. You rubbed at your soapy skin frantically in an attempt to wash off the pen, to no avail. Lately, although rarely, you’d started to notice small bruises or random marks on your skin; you’d never seen writing, though. You briefly wondered if there was possibly another person causing this, but you only saw such things in movies or books... right? 

Your heart rate started to pick up, and a heavy sensation built up in your chest. It isn’t possible, it can’t be. The cramped space of your shower started to feel suffocating. Nearly slipping, you jumped out of the shower and dried yourself off. You got dressed in whatever shirt and sweats you found hanging around your bedroom. Was something wrong with you? Am I imagining things? I’m not going crazy, right?  Worrisome thoughts flooded your mind as you spiralled deeper into a panic. Calm down. Don’t skip to conclusions. You threw yourself onto the bed. In and out. It’s that simple, you consoled yourself. Slowly but surely, you felt your heart come to a rest. 

When you lifted your hand up above your head the writing was still there, unchanged. So you weren’t losing your mind. Could somebody else be the cause of this? Was someone else somehow writing on your skin? No, you felt stupid for even considering the thought; otherworldly things like that only happened in comics or movies. Nevertheless, it was the only possibility that made sense to you in the moment. You let your curiosity get the best of you, and paced towards the living room to grab a pen off the coffee table. On your right hand, you simply wrote "Hi," in hopes of eliciting some sort of response.

The following day proved to be a rather sunny, warm Monday, but you had to spend your time in a closed lecture hall. The cold-toned ceiling lights were much too bright for your liking, and the monotonous professor spouted information maybe only a handful of people were genuinely listening to. That morning, you had woken up to find the list on your wrist gone, leaving only your own message from the night before. You started to think you'd really had a hallucination of some sort. 

Half an hour into the lecture, you were already bored out of your mind and absentmindedly sketching intricate doodles on your notebook. I should just give up on biochemistry and become an artist, you mused to yourself. You remained focused on your art, while marks started to take shape on the back of your hand. Your soft eyes widened almost comically at the sight, and you shot a brief look to the people around you to make sure they hadn’t seen anything. Whipping your head back to your hand, you saw that the words stopped writing themselves, leaving a short message saying “Am I going nuts?” 

Wondering the same thing yourself, you jotted down a response below it: “I dunno, you tell me,” followed by a cheeky smiley face. If this really was real, you might as well make a good first impression. 

Weeks trickled into months as you made short exchanges with your newly discovered friend. Some nights you would write “good night” followed by a drawn heart, earning a sweet “sleep well” in return. You would frequently wake up to thoughtful words written on the palm of your hand, or you'd kindly ask your companion how they were doing when you had a quiet day at work. Even so, all you had learned about this person was their name, age, and that they were a student as well. Yunho was a twenty-one-year-old elementary education major with a minor in physiology-- he also worked as a dance teacher on weekends. You still didn’t know much about each other, so the messages never went further than greetings and simple conversations. 

Be that as it may, you liked it like that. Your relationship wasn’t complex; it felt comfortable and pure, and you didn’t want to change it.

Mellow spring afternoons at the café had always been your favourite. The wispy clouds in the sky were painted a buttery yellow by the slowly setting sun, and a steady stream of nearby students stopped by for coffee. Your new friend had sweetly noted "It's golden hour. Made me think of you," on your palm, leaving you in a bubbly mood. You had started your shift by drawing a heart on your wrist, hoping your secret companion would see it. 

You worked by the espresso machine as usual, humming to yourself as always. The bell rang, indicating that customers had arrived; it was a group of what seemed to be three guys and a girl. 

“We’ll be right with you!” you called. You turned towards the kitchen.  “Jongho, can you take their orders?” Silence. “Pretty please? I need to clean up my station.” you persisted. 

“Fine, yeah,” you heard your colleague grumble. 

As you tidied up behind the machine, you felt as though someone was watching you from the counter. You lifted your head curiously, meeting a pair of inquisitive doe eyes coloured a soft hazelnut brown. The warm eyes instantly turned into friendly half-moons as the boy smiled shyly upon being caught staring. You hurried back to cleaning up your station, hoping to hide the pink tint of your cheeks, but the red shade consuming your ears gave you away. 

Jongho handed you the cups for their orders and walked over to the pastry display. You got started on a hot chocolate and three iced americanos, getting back into your “barista brain,” as you liked to call it. After finishing the drinks, you called out "Three iced americanos, a hot chocolate, and two blueberry muffins!” 

You turned around to grab straws, and you overheard one of the guys say “I’ll grab ‘em, you guys can stay here.” You made your way back to the counter, looking up only to be met with the boy from earlier. Butterflies littered your stomach, fluttering up into your chest. “Oh, um, here are some straws,” you smiled gingerly.

“Thanks. Could I please get a sleeve as well?” he asked, “For my hot chocolate.”

“Of course!”

As you handed him the cardboard sleeve, his hands caught your eye. Not only were they the most beautiful hands you'd ever laid eyes on, but the boy had a heart drawn on the valley of skin between his left thumb and wrist, exactly where you had drawn one on your own hand just a while earlier. He seemed to recognize the message on your palm as well; a confused expression ghosted over his face. Gathering all your courage, you nodded towards his hand and did your best to form a coherent sentence. “That’s—”

“Your heart,” he interrupted, “Right?” 

You giggled softly in response, barely containing your excitement.

“Right,” you smiled down at your feet in an attempt to hide the bashful grin that pulled at your lips. A hand popped up in front of you.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. My name’s Yunho-- Oh, but you know that already, don’t you?” Yunho chuckled sheepishly. You looked up and slipped your hand into his, shaking it gently. His hands were warm, fingertips ever so soft.

“Nice to meet you too.”