#sorry this took a couple days to answer i just got hit with the illness bat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hotchswifey · 1 year ago

Text

a little bit shy - rafael barba x reader smut

i wrote this like a year ago and never posted it???????? oml i kept thinking it was unfinished but like it’s 2700 words 😭 😭 😭 😭

anyways i’m not rewriting it or even rereading it so!!! anyways, this is shitty but it’s mine so it’s fine

warnings: shy!reader, smut, vaginal fingering, reader is a virgin (par hand stuff she’s done with rafael), reader owns a bookstore/cafe, written with an age gap in mind (rafael is like ?? 40?? 45??? reader is like 23/24), rafael is a babe and i love him, your honour, also rafael is a brief man and nobody can convince me otherwise, also like the office spoilers ig??? but nothing major, daddy/papi kink, the reader may have a slight humiliation kink (it’s self-projection babes), also the translation is through google so sorry if it is incorrect!

(word count: 2740)

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

You sat on the counter of your café, reading one of Stephen King’s books. You had closed up at 19:00 like you did every day (par Sundays where you closed up at 17:00); however, you had stayed behind in your store, deciding that you would leave when the rain cleared up - which, it hadn’t. You looked at the grandfather clock standing up against the wall - quarter past nine. The time had flown by as you were too engrossed in your book to notice the world outside and join the world written on the pages. You sighed as you jumped off the counter, folding the corner of (what was now) your personal copy of Doctor Sleep, realising that the weather would not get better anytime soon. Grabbing your hoodie (while cursing your past self for not bringing a coat to work), you turned off the lights, ensuring the ovens and such were also turned off. You grabbed your keys, preparing for the harsh weather, before stepping outside (albeit reluctantly). The rain hit your face harshly, the wind almost making breathing impossible, as you made your way quickly (or as quick as the wind would let your body move) down the sidewalk. You should have probably just called an Uber as you got to the corner of the street. But, then again, you had money to return to the shop. You halted on the corner, debating it but rejecting the idea. You were already soaking from being outside for a few minutes, so what were another... 20... to your apartment. It took you about ten seconds to go to Rafael’s apartment. You had only been dating for a couple months, but his place was, at most, ten minutes away from your shop, and you were freezing. You rushed down the sidewalk until you got to his building, standing underneath a roof; you quickly texted him with trembling fingers, asking if he could let you in, figuring he wouldn’t hear your voice on the intercom system due to the wind. The door buzzed open within seconds, which you were highly thankful for, and you made your way to the elevator, which you took to the top floor. Rafael answered the door after you knocked, still in his suit (confirming your suspicion that he had not stopped working even now; you were pretty surprised he was even home, as he was usually spending all his free time in his office). His eyes went wide immediately, taking in your wet form. “Hermosa, wha-” he cut himself off (something you didn’t know he was even capable of doing) as he opened the door wider for you to come in. “You’re soaking,” he said as he reached for the zipper of your hoodie. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you quipped back as you slapped his hands away, grabbing the zipper to try to pull it down, but you couldn’t quite do it with your trembling hands (which were a dangerously dark red). Rafael grabbed it again, slapping your hands away this time, pulling the zipper down and peeling the fabric off your skin as it stuck to you. “What were you thinking?” he looked down at you sternly, causing you to roll your eyes. “Calm down, I’m fine-” “You’re going to get ill,” he interrupted, taking your phone from you and placing it on the coffee table face down (which seemed to be his way of telling you I’m taking this because you are almost vibrating from how cold you are, not because I’m going to look through your phone, Hermosa). “you need a shower.” “I’m fine!” you argued, and Rafael looked at you with a deadpan look. You stared at each other for about ten seconds before you gave in, mumbling quickly, “Fine.” He walked you towards the bathroom as if you didn’t know where it was and opened the door for you. A quick “thank you” later, and you were peeling off the rest of your clothes before figuring out how to turn on the shower. After about a minute (which felt like an eternity, considering you were feeling hypothermic), you grabbed a towel before heading back out to find Rafael putting your hoodie in a washing basket. “Rafael?” he turned around at that, his eyebrows furrowing - he was cute when he was overly concerned. You suddenly became aware that you were naked and blushed heavily, “How- how do you, um, turn the... shower on?” Once he showed you and left the room, you basked in the water, feeling your previously numb fingers returning to life. You were highly aware of how long you were in the shower, not wanting to waste water or heat or anything. As well as the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were only one wall away from Rafael - totally naked. You took his (very expensive looking) shampoo and soap, cleaning yourself and your hair, before turning off the shower and leaving. Only then did you realise that you had no clothes - unless you would put on cold, wet ones. You wrapped the same towel around yourself before sheepishly entering the bathroom. Rafael smiled at you from his seat on his couch, his work abandoned on the dining table, his suit jacket on the back of one of the chairs and his tie looser than when he had answered the door, and a glass of scotch in one hand and the tv playing Netflix. “I don’t- um, I- I don’t have any... clothes,” you stuttered, looking down at your feet and fiddling with the towel. “You can borrow one of my shirts,” he said, as if it was the most casual thing ever, like you two always did this. he got up, pausing (in what looked like) the office (which you had convinced him to watch after it came to your knowledge that he had never watched it), and began to pull out a shirt from his drawer in his bedroom, handing it to you, which you thanked him for, still blushing from your current predicament. He went to leave before you spoke again. “I- I don’t have any-” you stopped talking, blushing too much before you could say ‘panties’. “You don’t mind wearing mine, would you? Because, you see, I don’t have any panties,” You blushed at his bluntness but shook your head to say, “No, I don’t mind. When, in actuality, you did mind, but only because the thought made you feel hot. Like everything else had once you had made your way into his apartment. You were naked. And, now, you were going to wear Rafael’s clothes. He left for you to get dressed; you shut the door, making sure it was locked, before you dropped the towel, pulling on his briefs and shirt. His shirt was white, and as you looked in the mirror, you realised that, yes, he could definitely see your nipples through the shirt. You buttoned three buttons before turning around and checking how much of your ass it covered. Thankfully, it fell to your mid-thigh, and even more, it smelt like him. You exited the bedroom, turning to close the door behind you softly to not disturb Rafael’s Netflix. What you didn’t see, with your back turned, was Rafael staring at you (specifically, your ass) and licking his lips. As you turned back around, you saw him sit forward and place his free hand (the one without scotch in it) on his knee - unbeknownst to you, he was trying to hide his growing member. You smiled at him, which he returned, and joined him on the couch, sitting about a foot away. You were right when you thought he was watching the office. He was currently watching Jim fax Dwight messages from future Dwight. You brought your legs up to your chest, sitting back on the couch. I watched as Jan told Michael that the branch was closing. “Would you like a drink, cariño?” he asked, making his way (very quickly, you noticed) behind the couch, as you watched the TV. You looked up at him, smiling, asking him for some coffee. He kissed you on the forehead, causing you to giggle, and then started on your coffee. But you swore as he turned around that he was... hard? Your eyes widened, and your cheeks grew hot as your head flew forward to stare at the TV. A smile grew on your face, and you tried to hide it multiple times, but you just couldn’t; it was... cute. Rafael was unbelievably cute right now - plus, his ears were pink, which made him look... well, adorable. You made sure he couldn’t see your face as you smiled widely, but you realised you were failing when he said; “What’s happening?” “What?” you turned to him, still smiling. “In Scranton,” he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was, but you weren’t focused on the TV. You were focused on what was going on behind the kitchen counter he was standing behind. “Oh, right, there,” you said, although you were sure you sounded teasing, which you must have because Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean, ángel?” he asked, coming back to join you on the couch, handing you the coffee. He sat closer to you than you had previously sat next to him, not that you minded - you wanted to sit on his lap, not next to him, but you’d settle for this. “Nothing,” you smirked as you glanced at him - his trousers were still tight. Your eyes went wide momentarily, but it was enough for Rafael to notice. “What?” “What?” you sipped your coffee, covering your smile as you looked at him. he narrowed his eyes at you before putting his arm around you, bringing you into his chest. He put the coffee on the table for you, looking down at you as you turned your head completely to look him in the eye. “You’re hiding something.” “Am I, counsellor?” You moved your legs over him, and he pulled you onto his lap, causing you to yelp and him to chuckle, burying his face in your neck, nipping and kissing at your skin. Your cheeks began to burn again as your smile and teasing attitude disappeared, replaced with whimpers and gripping onto the hem of your (or, rather, his) shirt. You did notice, however, that you weren’t exactly on his lap but on his legs. Which meant he thought you hadn’t noticed his... situation. “What are you hiding, cariño?” he began to kiss further down, kissing at your collarbone. You reached down to palm at his slacks, the office still playing in the background. You heard his breath hitch, and his head flew up to look you in the eye. “What are you hiding, counsellor?” you grinned at him, blinking through your lashes. His ears burned, as well as his cheeks, and he looked pretty shocked, too. However, he quickly recovered. He smirked at you, gripping your wrist, causing you to pout. His lips found yours, and you whimpered into his mouth, causing him to smirk again. “I’m not hiding a thing, cariño,” he said against your mouth, moving your hand back down to his bulge. He hummed against your mouth as you squeezed him lightly. His hand gripped your thigh, the other resting on your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You whined into his lips, putting your hand, not playing with his bulge, on top of the one on your thigh. “Please, Rafael,” you whimpered. His hand on your thigh began to creep up your leg, coming up to the waistband of your briefs before slipping inside. That was new. Sure, you had done things with Raf before, but he was always very... slow. He just wanted to ensure you were completely comfortable with what was happening, but now? Seeing you in his shirt? His fingers teased your entrance momentarily before he gathered your slick and began rubbing at your clit with steady circles. Your hand immediately gripped his wrist, your fingers not even managing to close around his arm. Your back arched, your tits pressed against him, and pathetic whines fell from your lips. His lips were attacking your neck and collarbone, marking you. “Oh, god,” you whimpered out, his fingers beginning to speed up, his other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you against him. Your fingers, the ones not around his arm, gripped his waistcoat. His rubbing sent impulses up and down your body, your vocal cords working on their own accord and your limbs twitching. “Please, oh, god,” his fingers and mouth were the only things you could focus on, and the rest of the world fell away. You were becoming incoherent with your words, that much you were aware of, as you mumbled out, ‘please’s and ‘fuck’s. You were pretty amazed you had stayed coherent for that long, considering that you were usually a mumbling mess of a woman who couldn’t make eye contact or stop blushing when he touched any part of your skin. You brought his face up from your neck, wanting to kiss his scotch-flavoured lips. The passionate kiss did not stop you from whimpering against him or prevent you from moving his hand away from your clit and towards your entrance. "estás tan necesitado, ¿no es así, cariño?" his tone was teasing, though you had no idea what he was saying. You moaned as his fingers edged around your entrance, and you dropped your head into his neck to hide the growing blush, your eyes fluttering shut. Your hips bucked as best they could in the position you were in. You whined when he took his fingers away from you; however, after he had moved you onto his lap (and, therefore, on top of his hard-on), his fingers continued their previous actions. He sunk one finger into your heat, causing your hold on his vest to tighten and your other to clench as you lifted it, trying to decide what to do. Your legs fell wider as Rafael curled his fingers into your sweet spot (and, of course, he knew exactly where that was, despite only having done this a couple of times). “Please, Rafael,” your voice was heavily muffled by the fact that you were pressing your face against his neck. Still, he must have heard you because he added another finger into you, rubbing against your sweet spot with two fingers whilst his palm ground against your clit. “please, papi,” you mumbled out, causing Rafael to stutter in his pleasing ministrations and his cock to twitch. You immediately seized up, your eyes flying open against his neck. However, Rafael’s fingers continued without hesitation, his other hand moving to your ass and squeezing it, pulling you more towards him. He hummed against the side of your head. “Papi, cariño?” your cheeks flushed, the embarrassment of the situation catching up on you. Your hold on his vest tightened, and you were sure you were seconds away from tearing it. You whimpered against his skin, the humiliation only contributing to your impending orgasm. Rafael smirked down at you, loving how you looked, squirming and whimpering on his lap. he loved that you were shy. You were adorable when you were blushing and stumbling over your words whilst you looked everywhere but him. When you called him Papa? he almost groaned aloud. He could feel you pulsing around his fingers, your legs spasming and back arching. Taking his hand away from your ass (and slightly lifting one of his legs to not make you fall), he unbuttoned your shirt, kneading one of your breasts. Your whimpers turned into moans, gradually increasing in volume and frequency. “That’s it, Hermosa, cum on papi’s fingers."

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #law and order svu #svu #rafael barba smut

573 notes · View notes

raibebe · 1 year ago

Text

Genre: angst, horror(?), lots of hurt and a little comfort Words: 6.101 Prompt: freshly turned vampire Chenle

Warnings: undefined illness, vampires (duh), graphic descriptions of burns, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, literal murder, semi-graphic(?) descriptions of murder, Chenle is going batshit crazy, he’ll be okay I swear

A/N: Uhm... Hi! A Chenle fic... That's new... I just want to say that he is my baby and I'm sorry for what he's been put through but he's a baby vamp and in my book, they need tragic backstories... In case you have noticed, I may or may not have accidentally created another universe, please excuse me, I just love world- and character-building...

In case you feel like there are any more warnings missing, please tell me! Also as always, huge thanks to @wooahaeproductions who makes sense of my long ass sentences! 🤍 And to @starlitmark for being awesome and supportive! 💕

Chenle was sick. He had been sick for a long time. Ever since he could remember, his mother would make him drink bitter liquids and swallow pills the size of small bird eggs. He was seldom allowed to play outside like his younger siblings. His father always said it was so he would have more time to read and study, so he could be a better king in the future but Chenle was sure it was to keep him from the outside and whatever harm there was. The physicians never told him what was wrong with him when they would whisper amongst themselves and by the time he had grown into his sharp features, he had stopped asking what was wrong when their frowns deepened. He let himself be pricked by needles and his body folded into different positions without a single word of complaint.

“He is very sick,” he had overheard the head physician tell his mother one night when he had snuck out of bed to watch the blood moon from the gardens and not through his tinted windows. “Have you found a cure yet?” “I’m afraid there is none, your Majesty.” A deafening clap had resounded through the empty corridor after that, making the young prince flinch. He knew that sound. His mother had hit the man who was trying to heal her son. “Find one,” the Queen spat, venom dripping from her words, “He is the crown prince. And he will take his throne. He will wear his crown.”

That night had burned itself into Chenle’s young mind. On one hand, he knew that he was doomed to die young. On the other hand he had his mother on his side, who brought in physicians from all over their lands and even beyond to examine and heal her only son.

As a child, he had never understood why the physicians said that he was sick. He never felt sick. But the older he got, the more he could feel the toll the sickness took on his body. When he was twirling his sisters around in the ballroom to the sweet melodies the musicians were playing, he would often get dizzy and call for breaks after only a couple of songs. He had to stop his walks through the elaborate rose garden his mother curated soon after he started because his legs just wouldn’t listen to his commands on the way back. And that autumn, he found himself bedridden, a fever tinting his pale skin pink despite how cold he felt. Chenle was lucid for the first weeks but as the days became shorter and shorter, he would slip in and out of consciousness, often waking up to the pinpricks of pain from another needle. The physicians had started to not only make him drink their increasingly worse concoctions but also inject him with things. He wasn’t sure if this was a good or a bad thing.

One night, beneath the light of the full moon, he woke up from his delirium to the Queen sitting next to him. She was clad in her bedrobes and patting his face with a cool cloth. “My sweet child,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his damp forehead. “I am going to die,” Chenle had answered, his voice hoarse from not speaking for days. “No,” his mother had choked out, tears filling her eyes, “I will not let that happen.” Weakly, he reached for her delicate hands, using all his strength to squeeze her hand. “Let me go.” “I can’t,” the Queen mouthed, holding her son’s bony hand up to her lips as tears streamed down her face, “You’re my everything, Lele. My little star.”

Chenle’s mother had cried that night until the prince had fallen under again, his grip becoming even weaker. Once her tears had dried, she looked at the sunken-in face of her son who used to have the most adorable chubby cheeks when he was just a child. And with that in mind, she made a decision. She called for her personal messenger and swore him to secrecy before she told him to bring in the man she had vowed to only ever send for as her very last resort. The man wasn’t a physician. She wasn’t even sure if he was a man. He was a myth. A miracle healer so to speak. But she was ready to pray for a miracle right about now. Chenle was her everything and she was not going to lose him.

On a rainy night a couple of days later, the Queen was spending each waking hour watching over her son’s fever dreams when a man hidden beneath a thick coat with a big hood was banging at the castle’s doors, claiming that the Queen had sent for him: The miracle healer. The queen rushed down the stairs to personally guide him to her son’s sleeping quarters, telling the man all about her son’s condition but he silenced her with just a wave of his hand at the sight of the Prince. The man - his figure still hidden beneath the thick coat - bent over Chenle, examining the condition he was in and feeling his burning skin. “I can heal him,” he concluded with a deep, raspy voice, “But it comes with a price.” “Anything,” the Queen immediately complied, “You will get anything you need to save my son.” “Oh, the price is for him to pay,” the healer clarified. “Will he be healthy again? So he can play with his siblings and take his rightful place on the throne?” “Yes, my Queen. He will be stronger than he has ever been.” “Heal him,” the Queen ordered, “At any price.” “So shall it be,” he bowed his head, “Can I request for some privacy to perform my craft?” With a heavy heart, the Queen nodded and let the heavy wooden door fall into the lock behind her.

The Queen wasn’t sure how long the man was left alone with her son. She had counted three nearby lightning strikes before the man walked through the door again. “He needs rest,” the man told her, “When the moon kisses the top of the trees for the second time tomorrow night, he will wake up.” “And he will be healed?” “If he’s left alone until then, his body will overcome everything,” he promised and with another bow, he excused himself to walk down the corridor. The Queen’s heart longed to see her son again after he had been left alone in the man’s company for so long but if his healing was disturbed by her presence, she was not willing to risk it.

The next day felt like it was several moons long to the Queen and she found herself walking past her son’s bedroom door over and over again. When the night had fallen, the Queen couldn’t fall asleep next to her snoring husband who had always taken their son’s sickness a lot better than she had. In the end, she got up to go to her sunroom where she was watching the moon make its way along the night sky until it was barely meeting the trees. Jumping out of her seat, she all but ran to her son’s chambers where she briefly collected herself and softly opened the door.

Chenle was lying in bed just as she had left him yesterday, unmoving and pale, but his cheeks weren’t pink with fever anymore and his hair was dry. With a smile on her lips, she rushed over to his side to cup his face, to feel the swell of his cheeks in her palms. When her palm met his skin, the Queen flinched back. Her son’s skin was cold. Colder than she had ever felt him or any of his siblings after they had played outside in the snow. “No, no, no,” she mumbled, frantically peeling back the thick layers of blankets to feel the rest of his body which beneath his light blouse and trousers was just as cold as his face. Throughout the whole disturbance, he didn’t move a muscle and could be moved like a doll. With tears blinding the Queen’s sight, she squeezed her son’s wrist to look for a pulse. But it never came. Her son had died.

With a toe-curling scream, she laid her body over Chenle’s, wetting his blouse with her tears and rattling his unmoving body with her sobs. “Mother?” The first time the Queen heard her son’s voice, she was sure she was hallucinating. She could feel his cold body beneath her. He was no more. “Why are you crying, mother?” It was almost like she could feel his voice resounding in his chest. “I’m feeling all better, you don’t need to cry.” When she felt hands stroking through her hair, she shot upright. And like a miracle, her son was looking right back at her, a smile on his full lips. “I’m feeling better,” he repeated himself, “I’m hungry.” “Lele,” the Queen gasped, cupping his face again. But just like the first time, his skin was as cold as ice. “I’m fine, mother,” he reassured her. With trembling hands, the Queen reached over to the nightstand to lift the candle she had brought in. And to her horror, her son’s beautiful deep brown eyes were no more. Instead, she was looking into the bright red eyes of a predator.

“What’s wrong, mother?” Chenle didn’t understand why his mother’s eyes were so wide and why she wouldn’t answer him. Was he having another fever dream? But he felt better. Better than he had ever felt. Like he could uproot trees. Sitting up, he reached out for his mother who only flinched back. “I’m well. I’m healed.” “Stay away from me,” she pressed out, sliding off of the bed and slowly walking towards the door. “What is happening, mother? I don’t understand. I’m so hungry.” “You are a monster. I should have never gone this far.” His mother’s words cut through the young prince like a knife. And they hurt even more than the sound of the door falling back into the lock and the key turning to lock him inside.

Why was she not happy to see him be better? Looking down at his body, he couldn’t see why his mother had called him a monster. His skin looked pale but he had been pale all his life, especially in the last years. But he had meat on his bones. His forearms were strong when he flexed the muscle. This was good. The same went for the rest of his body when he patted himself down. Everything was in order, his body had healed. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and getting up, he didn’t feel any dizziness or nausea, only hunger swirling in his gut.

Carefully, the Prince took a couple of steps. To his surprise, his knees didn’t buckle and his legs didn’t give out. With a wide grin, he walked over to the window and looked outside into the gardens. Oh, how he had missed seeing the green of the trees and the little bursts of colors telling him that it was way into the autumn season. Feeling like he was on top of the world, he looked over to his mirror and to his horror, all that he could see were his clothes standing in his room. Was this a dream after all? A nightmare? Slowly, the Prince waved his hand and the sleeve of his blouse followed suit. He frantically pulled the garment off and threw it to the ground. His torso still wasn’t visible in the mirror. Completely in shock, Chenle realized that he couldn’t hear his heartbeat hammer inside his skull or his blood rushing in his ears. Pressing his hands firmly to his chest, he tried to feel for a heartbeat. Even with his eyes pressed shut to concentrate, he couldn’t feel anything. Falling to his knees, he unseeingly stared at the intricate designs on his carpet. He had heard of this before. Read books about the condition. He hadn’t thought it to be true, that it was possible. But he was the living, or rather dead proof of it. He was a vampire. His mother had somehow turned him into a vampire.

Chenle wasn’t sure how long he kneeled there on the carpet, trying to make sense of his raging thoughts with nothing to keep him company but the sounds of the night and the occasional servant hurrying along the corridors. Why would his mother let him be turned into a vampire if she despised the creatures of the night? Why go this far if she was scared and disgusted of her only son now? Did his father know? His sisters? What would they do with him? Keep him locked up? Let him starve?

At that thought, the gnawing feeling of hunger punched him in the gut like a boxer. Gasping, he toppled over, his arms gripping his bare stomach as if they could shield him from the pain. When he tried to bite down on his lip to distract himself from the pain in his stomach, a piercing pain shot through him and dark droplets of blood fell onto the pristine carpet. Fangs. His fangs had dropped and punctured his lip. Bringing his hand up, Chenle gently felt the edge of the sharp teeth that were digging into his lower lip. And as if the gnawing feeling of hunger wasn’t enough, pain was also settling into his gums where his fangs sat.

With a groan, he lifted himself upright again, his hands clenched into fists. He needed to talk to his mother. There was just one other thing he hadn’t considered: His bedroom was facing east. So when he was moving his head up and out of the shadow that his window cast, a burning pain shot through the back of his head and with a blood-curdling scream, Chenle fell again, cradling his head and curling into a ball. But in the process, more of his body got exposed to the light of the rising sun, causing painful blisters to appear on the reddened skin of his back. With another scream, he threw his body in the direction of his bed, rolling beneath the heavy bed frame to shield his body from the scathing sun. Even if he didn’t need to anymore, his chest was heaving with heavy breaths as he stared at his skin healing itself: the blisters getting smaller and smaller until the skin had knit itself back together, the red, irritated color fading slowly until he was left with milky-white skin. Not even a single blemish showed what had just happened.

Fascinated by what his body could do, he experimentally grabbed onto one of the pieces of wood that were supporting his thick mattress. He slowly tightened his grip and sure enough, without even using much strength, the wood began to creak and splinter beneath his fingers but none of the wood was able to pierce through his skin.

He was truly invincible. Well- if you forgot about the incident with the sunlight. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Chenle realized that he had no other choice but to wait it out. Once the sun had set, he’d be able to talk to his mother so they could figure out what they could do about his…new condition. That was what it was, right? Just another sickness. One that made him incredibly strong and heal really fast but unable to see his own reflection or walk in the sunshine. But his people already knew that their Prince was sick. So they could just tell them that the Prince was never to leave the palace walls and put thicker curtains in the throne room to block out the sun. It could all be alright again.

Chenle wasn’t sure how long he was holding out beneath his bed already, the only thing to keep him company being the gnawing feeling of hunger inside his belly. He was sure he had heard the guards changing twice in front of his room, speaking with hushed voices about how none understood why the Prince was to be kept inside his room when he was bedridden. With a bitter snort, Chenle had thrown a punch against his bed frame that left the wood with a splintered indent of his fist and nothing more. He wasn’t sure where this sudden burst of anger came from, he usually wasn’t this hot-headed but the feeling of hunger was slowly driving him insane along with the pain in his jaw.

When the sun had almost completed its journey along the sky, the patches of sunlight coming through his windows stretched further and further. Chenle was all but vibrating out of his skin. Thoughts were hard to formulate and even harder to keep from flowing away when all he wanted to do was to sink his teeth into something or rather someone to quench both the ache in his jaw and the beast sitting where his stomach used to be.

Over the course of this day, which must have been the longest in his entire life, he had let the sun burn his skin over and over again, testing the limits of his body and how the strength of the sun would affect him and he was starting to regret it. It had only made him more hungry. Or thirsty, he should probably say. Briefly, he wondered if he could eat raw and bloody meat but as soon as the thought came, it got lost inside his head again.

But instead of his brain going in circles about how hungry he was and how he could almost taste the sweat of the guard standing in front of his room, a sudden pain seemed to split his skull in two, ripping a scream from Chenle’s parched throat. Gripping his hair tightly, he tried to understand what was happening. It made no sense. He had been hiding here all day and it had been fine.

The invisible knife that seemed to have lodged itself in his skull also appeared to be poisonous. A fire began flowing inside his veins, filling his chest with a sensation as if he was burning alive from the inside out, the pain far worse than when he had burned his back earlier.

Curling up into a ball, Chenle clawed at his own skin, digging his sharp nails into the skin until it broke but it did nothing to ease or distract him from the phantom pains. Screaming and crying, he convulsed on the floor, dripping what little blood he had left in his body onto his light carpet. Just as sudden as the pain had come, it was gone again, leaving Chenle feeling almost hollow. He wasn’t sure for how long he blankly stared at the drops of crimson that stained the pristine carpet but he simply didn’t have it in him to move. It almost felt like he was back in a feverous state, his consciousness floating somewhere above his body.

With another cry of agony, he came back to his body, his chest heaving and his head dizzy. He needed to get out from beneath the bed, the dark wood suddenly too close. Blinded by a sudden onslaught of panic, Chenle - not yet used to the new strength his body possessed - shoved against the underside of the bed, splintering the wood and breaking the frame. He wasn’t sure how exactly he got out from beneath the bed but when he finally stood at his window, the handle broken and the cool breeze of the evening fanning over his skin, his bed was nothing more than a pile of wood with a mattress on top and rogue feathers floating around the room. The presence of the moon helped to calm the young vampire and with controlled breaths, he got his chest to stop rattling with panic, only slightly cracking the windowsill with how tightly he had gripped onto it.

“Prince Chenle!” A voice called from the outside and he could hear several heavy footsteps outside of his door before the key turned in the lock. Several guards stepped inside his room and the moment the smell of their bodies hit Chenle’s nose, hell broke loose: He didn’t even process the words that left the first guard’s mouth, his head snapping around to see them reaching for their swords. They were here to kill him. His own mother had ordered his death. He couldn’t die. He had done nothing wrong.

With his face contorted in anger, he dashed towards the group. With a single punch to the guard’s side, Chenle was able to hear bones crack beneath his fist and the guard’s sword falling to the ground with a loud noise. When he cried out in pain, it made the veins in his neck stand out so temptingly, that Chenle couldn’t stop himself. With his fangs already dropped, he opened his jaws wide and buried his teeth in the guard’s neck, the flesh ripping easily as fresh blood flooded his tongue. It was heaven. He had never tasted anything quite like this. None of the expensive wines he had drank during banquets could even come close to the explosion of flavor on his tongue.

He needed more. More. Annoyed that his meal was moving, Chenle gripped the guard’s head and forced it further to the side. He felt something snap and the man went limp in his grip but he couldn’t care less when he buried his teeth again to swallow more of the crimson liquid that soothed the ache in his stomach and left his mind reeling with pleasure.

Sadly, the other guards must have snapped themselves out of their stupor and they unsheathed their swords as well. The sound of the mental scraping against the leather pulled Chenle’s attention from the corpse in his arms to the other guards. With a wicked grin on his lips, he let the corpse fall to the ground in a heap of their own blood and after he wiped the blood from his lips, he was delighted to see absolute fear in the guards’ eyes.

“You can’t run from me,” he drawled before he pounced, snapping the neck of the one closest to him and burying his teeth deep into the throat of the second one, letting him drop to the floor as well after he took another deep gulp of blood.

“My mother,” he spoke slowly as he approached the last guard, “Where is the Queen?” The guard didn’t answer, irritating Chenle to high heavens. His sword was trembling in his hand and his eyes were so wide, Chenle was afraid they’d just pop out of their sockets and roll over the stained floorboards like marbles. “I asked a question. Won’t you answer your Prince?” He tried again, gripping the sword between his fingers to point it down so he could step closer to the frozen guard, bringing his mouth up against his neck. “Tell me where the Queen is,” he whispered again, deliberately letting his teeth scrape the skin. “Sh- She- She is in her- her sunroom, my- my Prince,” the guard stuttered pathetically. “Thank you for your service,” Chenle chuckled darkly before he finally gave in to the urge to bite into his neck, already addicted to the taste of fresh blood.

With a satisfying thud, the vampire let the last body drop to the floor as well, eyeing the carnage left behind with a sick smile on his face. How had his mother ever thought that four measly guards were enough to take him down? On bare feet and with blood dripping down his chin onto his chest, Chenle stepped over the corpses and into the empty hallway, leaving bloody footprints behind on his way to his mother’s sunroom.

With his newly heightened senses, Chenle could easily tell that there were more people than just his mother near her sunroom. Just as he had assumed, in front of the room stood another three guards and to Chenle’s surprise the head of the guards was among them. “Move,” he growled as he stepped into view, baring his teeth to show his bloody fangs. “You’re alive,” the guard on the left gasped, reaching for his sword with a shaky hand. “Of course I am,” the Prince just laughed, “You didn’t really think four measly guards would be enough to kill me?” When no one dared to answer, the vampire barked out a laugh. “Oh, but you really did. How stupid of you.” “Where are my men?” The head of the guards demanded to know as if their blood on Chenle’s body wasn’t enough of a tell.

“In hell,” was Chenle’s dark answer and within a blink of an eye, he was at the man’s throat, his teeth easily ripping through cartilage and muscle tissue. A last pathetic gurgle left the dying man’s lips before he dropped to the ground and Chenle spit out the piece of flesh he had ripped out. The two other guards watched in shock, frozen in place. “What?” He cocked his head to the side, watching their commander twitch in a pool of his own blood. “Scared?” When they didn’t answer, he went on. “Dying is peaceful. I would know.” “Please,” one of the guards pleaded pathetically, his sword falling to the ground with a loud thud, “I- I have a wi- a wife and- and a son. He- he just started a walk an-“ Chenle didn’t let the guard finish, grabbing his head to smash it into the stone wall.

“That was annoying,” he sighed, delighted at the cracking he had felt in the skull. “Now what am I going to do with you?” Instead of answering, the last guard simply fell to his knees, his sword limply in his hand. “Pft,” the prince snorted, “I don’t know if that one was more or less pathetic.” To one up the previous performance, the guard bared his neck as well, presenting Chenle with the tempting thump of his carotid. “Oh, it’s definitely you,” he snickered, stepping over to the sweating man, “Thank you for the meal.” With a moan, Chenle buried his fangs in the man’s throat, blood rushing out of the wound and onto his tongue, the man’s fear making it that much sweeter.

Once the beast in his chest was satiated by the sweet blood, another body joined the two of his comrades on the floor. They did look pathetic even in their death. Maybe Chenle should close their eyes. But before he could bend down, a sound in his mother’s sunroom caught his attention: a quiet creak. The hidden door his mother thought he and his siblings didn’t know about. He would not let her get away. She needed to hear him out.

Bursting into the room with the big windows all along the side of it making it feel like they were actually sitting in the gardens, the door all but fell off the hinges from the force. Chenle found the Queen almost stepping into the secret pathway. “Don’t. Move,” he ordered, holding himself back from pouncing on the woman who had turned him into a monster. “Chenle don’t do this,” she spoke with a quivering voice, her eyes shaking as she took in her son, blood dripping from his bare chest. “Don’t do what, mother?” “You don’t want to kill me.” “But you wanted to kill me,” he shot back. “I never intended for this to happen to you,” the Queen pleaded, her knuckles turning white around the handle of her secret pathway. “I’m faster than you. Don’t do that,” Chenle coldly reminded her, watching with a sick delight at how his mother’s hand shook when she released the handle. “Chenle…” “No. You. You did this to me. You didn’t ask if I wanted this. And then you decide to just have me murdered because you can’t have your only son, your successor to the throne be a vampire,” he accused her. “Well I didn’t want this either,” she interrupted him with a loud scream that rang in his sensitive ears, “You were dying and the physicians had tried everything!” “I told you to let me die!”

That of all things seemed to make his mother shut up. “I told you to let me go. I made my peace with it,” he added with a more quiet voice, all but pleading. “I couldn’t, Chenle,” the Queen answered just as quietly, “I couldn’t just let you die like this.” “And yet, you killed me anyway.” “I didn’t know,” she choked out, tears filling her eyes as she opened her arms for him to fall into like he was back to being just a child. “Mother,” he sniffled, his body losing all tension as he stumbled into her familiar embrace, staining the silk of her gown with the blood that was sticking to his frame. It was so strange how quickly things had changed and it made the embrace feel both familiar and foreign at the same time. “I’m so sorry, my little star,” his mother breathed quietly, adjusting her grip around him.

“I forgi-“ Chenle couldn’t finish his sentence, pain bloomed in his flank and he couldn’t believe his own eyes when he looked down to see a dagger lodged deep inside his body. “Mother..?” “It’s better like this,” she whispered, gently stroking a strand of hair behind his ear. If Chenle still had a heartbeat, he was sure that his blood would be rushing through his ears so loudly that he wouldn’t be able to hear anything else. His chest started to heave with nonsense breaths, the pace erratic as a red veil seemed to fall over his vision. “You’re dead to me,” he snarled, watching in delight how his mother’s eyes widened before he felt his fangs drop and everything around him turned into a mess of blood and anger.

“Oh little one…” The softly spoken words were the first thing Chenle sensed consciously in a while. With great effort, he tried to focus his blurry vision. “What a mess you made,” the voice went on before Chenle heard footsteps. The man was coming closer. Finally, his vision seemed to clear and he could recognize the bloody corpse he held clutched to his chest, its face distorted in a mask of fear. The Queen was dead. With a wet thud, her body fell from his grip into the pool of blood on the floor. A whimper dared to slip past his lips but he held it in as he bit down hard. His fangs had retracted and the monster inside him seemed satiated.

The next thing Chenle felt was soft fabric slipping over his bare shoulders. Confused, he looked up from the carnage at his feet to look into the red eyes of a man he had never seen before. “Hello Prince Chenle,” the man smiled gently, his voice soft and non-threatening like he was trying to coax a wild animal out of hiding. Carefully, he uncurled Chenle’s blood-smeared hand and held it in his, seemingly not caring about getting himself dirty. “Let’s get you somewhere more safe.” “But my family,” he argued weakly but let himself be pulled up on his feet. With a meaningful look, the man took a glance around the room and with static filling his own mind, Chenle followed his example. He couldn’t begin to count the number of twisted corpses in the room, the Queen at the center of it all, her dress dyed red from all the blood. “Take me away,” the Prince asked, his voice cracking when he recognized the faces twisted with fear and horror, their unseeing eyes looking right at him.

With a squeeze of his hand, the man with the red eyes pulled the Prince away from the bloodbath, tucking him against his side when he felt him tremble. “It’s over now,” he reassured Chenle as he led him out of the castle where a dark carriage with heavy curtains in front of the windows and door awaited them. The carriage driver didn’t even bat an eye at the state Chenle was in and simply opened the door with a bow of his head for the two men.

Climbing in, Chenle wasn’t sure where he was supposed to sit. Opposite of the man or next to him? “Sit,” the man quirked one of his eyebrows at him, patting the blood-red cushion next to him. With a huff, Chenle let himself be swallowed by the seat, tightly wrapping himself in the man’s jacket.

With a snap of the whip, the carriage started moving and the castle got smaller and smaller. When it was nothing more than a shadow in the distance, Chenle focused on the man next to him instead. He was only wearing a thin blouse, expensive fabric and tailored specifically to fit his build, Chenle could tell. Tapered to show off his broad shoulders and his slim waist and with polished cufflinks at the sleeves. His pants were a simple, dark color and his shoes only had minimal blood splatters on the leather. The most striking thing about the man - who Chenle now was sure was of noble blood - had to be his bright red eyes though, telling on his true nature: a vampire like himself. His face was all angles and strong lines, his jawline prominent and his nose high. He briefly wondered if the beauty mark beneath his eyes was painted on. He’d seen his sisters do it.

His sisters… Chenle couldn’t remember if their faces had been among the corpses in the sunroom. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened after his mother had stabbed him until the stranger’s voice had broken him out of his stupor.

“What… What happened to me?” Chenle asked with a small voice, pulling the stranger’s jacket tighter around his frame, as if it could shield him from the harsh truth. “Fledglings have a very special bond to their sire. Especially right after their rebirth,” the man explained with a calm voice, his bright red eyes focused on the landscape passing by. “Sire?” “The man who created you,” he clarified, “And your mother had him executed, severing that bond. Losing their sire is traumatic, even for older vampires, so it’s a miracle I found you in such good shape.” That comment had Chenle snort bitterly. “I killed my entire family.” “You could have destroyed yourself,” the man said with an almost fond look in his eyes, “You’re very strong for enduring that kind of pain.” “Don’t feel like it,” the fledgling mumbled, scratching at the drying flakes of blood on his skin. “Believe me, I’ve seen more than one fledgling succumb to madness in my days.”

“And how old are you exactly?” That question made the man grin and shake his head. “Isn’t that a funny thing to ask? My body is not much older than yours.” “That doesn’t answer my question.” “You’re a curious one.” “At least tell me your name if you’re going to take care of me.” “Jeno,” the man spoke, “You can call me Jeno.” “Just Jeno?” “Family names don’t mean a thing when you’ve been alive for decades.” “Or dead.” “Or dead,” Jeno chuckled, shaking his head.

“Does- Does the..?” “Does the carriage driver know? Yes. Everyone does in my home.” “Home? Is that where we’re going?” “It can become your home if you wish to,” the older vampire smiled, “Even if it must not be much for a prince like you.” “I’m no prince any longer. I’m just Chenle.” “Then we can be just Jeno and just Chenle,” Jeno smiled, gently ruffling Chenle’s blood-sticky hair.

“Thank you,” the fledgling whispered so quietly, he could barely hear his own words but Jeno must have heard him anyway because he just wordlessly intertwined their fingers again to squeeze Chenle’s hand. “You’ll be okay,” he promised, “I’ll teach you about your new life and provide you with whatever you need.” “A bath would be nice.” “I’ll let my servants draw you a bath,” Jeno chuckled fondly, the warm sound making Chenle smile as well. “I’m tired but not sleepy…” “You’ve been through a lot, little one,” Jeno spoke softly, adjusting in his seat so Chenle could rest against his shoulder more comfortably, “Rest while your mind will let you. We still have quite the journey ahead of us.” “Thank you,” Chenle mumbled again, the tension immediately leaving his body as he rested against Jeno.

#chenle #zhong chenle #nct #nct dream #chenle fic #chenle angst #chenle imagines #chenle scenarios #nct dream fic #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #chenle vampire

74 notes · View notes

jenny-from-the-bau · 5 months ago

Note

okay sorry this is a lot but 1, 5, 12, 19, 24, 25, and 34 for the ask game pls!!

-🐙

1: What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

I only write in Garamond, and I care very much. I write in Garamond pt12 with a 0.5 indentation on the left, single spacing, and 0 before/8 after paragraph spacing. Every time.

5: already answered

12: If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? BTW if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ispum, I don't make the rules

I never mix up tenses

I always know how to end a story

There is always someone around to give me notes

19: Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

Yeah! So, my mom really wanted to be a writer (or at least write for fun), so she took random online writing classes, and I always took them with her. I also wrote random short stories just for fun. In high school, I had an actual book that I was working on and I had SO much detail and planning, but it was all just so cringe lol I wrote a lot of (bad) poetry, too.

I started writing fanfic in high school. It started as Sweeney Todd fanfic where my ideas were WAY too big for my skills lol I completed my first multichap in 2013! it was a grey's anatomy mafia au. It was... fine haha

I was really easily discouraged, and I'd stop writing at like one mean comment. I didn't have a writing community or other writing friends, so I just wrote for me, and it wasn't great. I got some good feedback on a few swan queen oneshots, but my writing really took off when I watched Person of Interest. I was getting my Master's and working in theatre and I just wrote so so so much. I was literally posting once a day. It was a lot of fun to talk about writing with people and exploring fandom.

I ended up watching Criminal Minds on a whim and it really hit me. I had a great writing community, posted like 50 fics in a year, and just really hit my stride. Some life stuff happened and I got VERY mentally ill and it took away my motivation to write. I had stories that were tangled up in people I was no longer friends with, etc. I also lost my writing voice for a while. I was writing for other people, but like... I was writing what they wanted and exactly how they wanted and it just wasn't me. I eventually hit a point where I stopped writing for almost a year.

Now, I feel like I'm in a much better headspace and I have better friends who understand me and who I am and what my voice is. I feel like I'm finally getting into my stride as a writer and finally figuring out what kind of stories I want to be writing.

I'm considering going back to writing original fiction. I have a few ideas. It's just scary and hard and I'm not quite sure how to do it lol We'll get there!

24: How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

So much prep work! I outline almost all my fics, and even if I don't do a full outline, I do at least a couple paragraphs. I had all 26 chapters of Born Into Bad Choices planned before I started. I'm doing like a few chapters ahead for What It Takes, but still. I have so so much outlined. I really like planning because it gives me a sense of direction and that makes me feel less lost. Without a plan, I flounder.

25: What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

Hmm... This one is hard lol Maybe pick a story and I'll tell you!

34: Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

Necessary, Mandatory, and Wonderful.

#ask #🐙 anon #that last one is a little joke #the girls who get it get it lmao #ask game

2 notes · View notes

soletlunasims · 2 years ago

Text

Continuing, practically, where we left off, Ares is struggling with coming to terms with the new reality she has set for herself.

She spent the next week locked in her room, sobbing for the majority of the time. She didn't even let the butler in to do their daily bedroom cleaning. Instead, the butler sensed that Ares was having a hard time and rather than prying into it, they prepped her tons of food and kept the rest of the house straight while turning away unwarranted guests. Ares told her professors that she had to be home for a family emergency for an extended period of time. Most of them were understanding. Others weren't as much. But all of her professors granted her temporary 'Work from home' basically making her classes online classes until further notice. It was the university's policy to grant their students this privilege at least once in case of emergencies. Ares took full advantage of this by taking the entire semesters classes fully online. The baby would be born in between semesters so she would be able to hide her pregnancy the entire time. As for when the baby arrived, she didn't know what she was going to do.

(side note: In my saves, all babies for the most part are born regardless of if it's a wanted pregnancy or not. This is for two reasons.

I play without mods because I am on console so, even if I wanted to do a story line that involved aborting a baby, it would be incredibly time consuming to do it. I have only done it once as an experiment and you really have to try.

Not to get political, but while I believe in 'my body my choice' a lot of the Sims I play with are Sims that are carrying the next gen of my family so when a sim gets pregnant, it's with purpose. Most Sims that don't want kids only have one. The one I need to continue. Sims that want families and children usually have at least 2. There are cases where I have both parent Sims unwilling to accept the baby and when that happens, the send them off to be adopted and they get played in a foster house or with an adopted family.

Maybe when I play with mods, one day, I will change that standard bit of lore across my saves but I also fear that might be too far for some readers.)

Ares was always in her head about things. But everything she worried about until now seemed so ridiculous in retrospect. There was only one thing she could rationalize about this entire situation:

She would not raise this baby.

But she also knew she couldn't just keep this a secret to herself, find a family that wanted it, and pretend like it never happened. She may have been trying to push Gunnar away up until now, but he deserved to know this. He was the father, after all and even though Ares was trying to move on and leave Gunnar behind, she realized that he had always been on her side, by her side and he would die for her. A pang of guilt hit her and she started to cry once again. This time she thought about how Gunnar would react. What if he got angry and told everyone? She didn't want anyone to know the baby was hers but she also realized how terrible of a person she had been to the one person who truly cared about her. She deserved this.

For the first time in a very long time, Ares reacted without thinking. She wiped the tears from her eyes but it didn't hide the fact that she was crying. She video called Gunnar who picked it up almost immediately. He sounded a bit cold when he answered "Ares. What's up? How's school? Tried to call you myself a couple times but I assume you were busy. I didn't want to bother you if that was the case."

Ares eyes noticably welled up with tears but she tried to force a smile. "Uh... Yeah... Um... Heh... I'm sorry about that. Yeah, no. I have actually not been feeling so well lately."

Gunnar's face softened. Maybe he wasn't being ignored the past 3 weeks if that was really the case. Maybe she had travellers flu or some other illness. He felt bad for thinking the worst "Oh, Ares..... I'm sorry. I hope it didn't affect the begining of your semester too much."

Tears streamed down Ares face. She didn't know what to say to Gunnar. How was she supposed to tell him?

Gunnar broke the silence by asking her a question. He didn't notice her crying at first because he was preoccupied with something he was doing before she called. "Oh! Hey!.... My black button up isn't anywhere here. Did you happen to accidentally pack it with your stuff, by chance?"

Ares perked up for a second. She was sitting on her bed and the suitcase was in the corner of the room, still packed up. She had been so eager for school that she didn't even bother to unpack. She rushed over to her bag, leaving her phone on the bed giving Gunnar a great view of the ceiling. That caught Gunnar's attention and he stopped what he was doing. He laughed "Don't worry about it, it's not that serious. I'll get it from you eventually."

Ares picked her phone back up. "I have it."

Gunnar then noticed something wasn't right. "Ares?.... Hey. Are you crying? What's wrong?"

Ares started bawling. Gunnar tried everything to console her but she kept crying for a good 10 minutes before Gunnar could actually get a word in to her. "Whatever it is, it'll be alright. You know I'll be here for you."

Ares stopped crying and just stared at Gunnar's face on the phone. It started to freak Gunnar out but he was afraid to say something that would trigger her to start crying again. After an uncomfortably long time Ares found the courage to tell Gunnar what she had to say.

With a dead stare into the phone, she proceeded to speak. "I'm pregnant."

Gunnar just kept looking at her. Eventually he put his head in his hands and he just sat there for a while. They were both silent. Suddenly, Gunnar piped up. "It is mine, right?"

Ares scoffed. "Who else, Gunnar?"

Gunnar: "Well. I don't know.... I don't know who you have been seeing while at school. How am I supposed to know?"

Ares looked down and started fidgeting with her nails. "Yes... It's yours. I have never been with anyone else..."

While the circumstances were less than pleasant, Gunnar felt a sense of relief wash over him when he heard that.

Ares ruined that sense of relief with what she said next. "I'm going to find a nice family for this baby. Don't worry."

Gunnar's heart sank. "What?...."

Ares: "I can't raise this baby. And if it got out that I had a baby while still in university, it would ruin my career. There's no way I would be taken seriously as a candidate for local office let alone for president. I can't keep it, Gunnar."

Gunnar started to get mad. "What, and you didn't even consider, I don't know... Asking the father if he would raise it? I kind of know the guy personally! I'd say chances are pretty fuckin' high that he would!"

Ares got defensive. "No way! Imagine if I let you do that? You would have solid proof that it's my kid. I want no ties to it!"

Gunnar: "You really think that little of me, Ares?! You would be willing to give up MY child to save your career, huh?"

Ares remained silent. Gunnar noded his head a few times before he ended the call.

Ares sighed. "That went not as expected....". She looked over at the black shirt she grabbed from the suitcase. Gunnar's black button up. She picked it up and held it to her face, inhaling his scent. For a moment she felt at peace.

Ares decided to put Gunnar's shirt on before she got in bed for the night and drifted off to sleep. It was unclear weather she was exhausted from crying, growing a human or whatever else but she had the best night's sleep she's had in a long time. So much so that she was awakened by 1 in the afternoon the next day to a loud sound from the living room.

" LET ME IN, OLD MAN!"

Ares couldn't make out what was going on at first as she pressed her ear to the door. She feared she might be getting robbed. She heard the butler "Ms. Palette is not feeling well and requires time to rest. She is not taking visitors at this time. I will not repeat myself. Do not make me call the cops."

Another voice permeated through the door. "Why don't you ask her for yourself if I'm just some guest? We have business that needs to be had, as soon as possible... Please. Just tell her I'm here. See what she says."

There was no mistaking that voice. Ares opened the bedroom door to see the butler with a sheepish look on his face and his hand up as if he was about to knock on the door. He cleared his throat.

Ares nodded at him "Can you give us some privacy?"

The butler bowed and left the room. Ares darted her eyes toward her houseguest. "Why are you here, Gunnar?"

"why are you in my shirt?", Gunnar shot back.

Ares clicked her tongue. "Unbelievable. You actually made the trip out here for this? Why?!"

Gunnar gritted his teeth. "I took the first plane out here. As soon as I hung up, I got myself a ticket. I'm angry, Ares."

Ares: "Okay and? What the fuck am I supposed to do about it? You ruined my life."

Gunnar's eyes grew wide: "I did what now? Did you forget how it all went down? You came on to me."

Ares rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You have been trying to get in my pants for the past two years, Gunnar."

Gunnar waved his hands in front of his face and turned away from her. " Go get clothes on. We'll talk about this when you're decent."

-To Gunnar's Surprise-

Ares actually listened to him. She put on jeans and a top. Immediately after, she felt the urge to get sick. She ran back through the house to the bathroom, leaving Gunnar feeling helpless as he waited for her to come out. After a few minutes, she returned, her head slightly tilted downward as if she was ashamed that anyone saw her in such a state.

Gunnar desperately wanted to hold her. To make her feel better. But he was bitter. He just looked at her, hands in his pockets. He nodded toward the door. "Wanna get some fresh air?"

They headed outside where they continued their conversation.

Gunnar kept his hands in his pockets, and stared at Ares. She felt the penetrative gaze from Gunnar but she could not find the courage to look him in the eye. After a few minutes, Gunnar came up with something to say. "You really mean what you said?"

Ares played ignorant. "About what?"

Gunnar chuckled slightly, tears welling in his eyes. He was saddened at Ares behavior and, above all else, pissed off. "You were seriously going to give my baby up? Without consulting me? That's really fucked up, Ares."

Ares was also pissed now. " Who gives you the right to tell me what to do with the baby the I'M growing. ME. I'm the one who has to go through it. NOT YOU!"

Gunnar, for the first time since Ares has known him, raised his voice at her. "THE BABY WE MADE TOGETHER! OUR BABY! YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO IT ALONE....". Gunnar checked himself once he saw Ares reel at his sudden outburst. ".... You don't have to do it at all. I want to raise our kid! Ares.... Look at me!"

Ares kept her head away from him but darted her eyes to meet his for a brief second before looking at the ground near his feet.

Gunnar choked back tears. "Christ, Ares. I can't even have a conversation with you about it? For someone who prides themselves on their confidence and social skills, you're really having a tough time of it right now. Are we adults or are we not?"

Ares stood there for a moment. Gunnar waited for her response, his usual patience showing up to take the place of the beast that shocked them moments ago. Eventually, she let down her guard and turned to face Gunnar.

She found the courage to speak her mind. "Gunnar. This was a mistake. This parasite growing inside me? A mistake. Sleeping with you? Mistake. Letting you get so close...... Being your friend for so long..... I should have known better. You could never match my energy. You're way too different. I'm gonna be something big one day. I'm going to make changes. I don't see a future where you and I are still even friends. You're better off without me. Pretend you never knew me. Pretend none of this ever happened."

Gunnar started to feel sick. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. " So that's it, huh? 10 years of friendship down the drain? You never want to see me again? And you want me to pretend like I didn't father a kid and hope it all goes back to normal?! Am I understanding you correctly?!"

Ares started to lose patience. " Yup."

Gunnar shook his head. "You're fucking unbelievable, Ares. I'm truly disgusted by how you are dealing with all of this. I ruined your life? If you get rid of my child, I will never be the same. But you don't care about that do you? No.... You only ever care about yourself."

Ares: "That's not fair, Gunnar!"

Gunnar: "The truth isn't fair? Doesn't part of your history degree involve studying law? Maybe you aren't as smart as you perceive yourself."

Ares: "I don't need this! Get off of my property! I don't want to talk anymore. Please leave."

Gunnar sighed and put his hands back in his pockets. He shrugged. "Guess this is goodbye, then."

Gunnar turned to walk down the drive. Ares watched him as he disappeared into the distance. She went inside and slammed the door. Her butler stood in the living room. "Is everything alright, Madam?"

Ares noded but she had a furious look in her eyes. "Pour me a glass of that Von Houte vintage red, would you?"

Her butler bowed to her and did just that.

#the sims 4 #not so berry #The Palette Legacy

0 notes

herofics · 3 years ago

Note

I thought of another one. Izuku, Ejiro, and Mirio (seperatly) with an s/o who they know has depression. When they are called on some task that would last for the day or more, s/o is pushed to far down by their thoughts. S/o overdoses, fear, pain, everything, thinking they would finally die. When the boys come back they see s/o on ground with pills everywhere, s/o slowly starts coming to, and the boys realize, they weren't there. They could've lost s/o. They got so scared.

I didn’t do Mirio this time because I wanted to get the post out, but I’ll try to remember to write this for him some other time. I have some other scenarios on a similar situation for Dabi and Todoroki. This has happened to me a couple of times. I had just taken way too many meds and my dad barely got me to talk in the morning when he tried to wake me up, so this is very much based on my own experience. No one should ever overdose on purpose and I’m not glorifying it in any way and if it happens, always get them to a hospital/ER. I guess this is again in their twenties and living together. I would also like to mention that while some mentally ill people might need a lot of help in everyday life, I don’t mean this to come off like we all need a babysitter all the time, or we’ll do something stupid. Decided to put this under the keep reading thing, because they’re so long

~Midoriya Izuku~

Being the number one hero wasn’t easy, but Midoriya had always found it to be very fulfilling work, even if it sometimes kept him away from home for days. He knew you were always waiting for him and that he always had you to come back to. He wasn’t going to make it home tonight, so he decided to give you a call.

“Hey” you answered as you picked up the phone.

“Hey, I just wanted to check in, let you know I’m still alive an all” he said.

“Good to know, are you gonna be home tonight?”

“Sorry, but no, I can’t make it until maybe early tomorrow morning. Are you doing okay? You sound a bit off”

“I’m fine, I promise” you tried to reassure him.

“Good, I have to go now” Midoriya said, and took the phone off ihs ear.

“I lo-” you said into the phone, but the line disconnected before you could finish your sentence.

That’s how you had been feeling lately too, disconnected. Disconnected from everything, especially from Izuku. He had been working so hard lately, trying to keep the peace, making the world a better place, the things he’d always wanted to do. You just felt like you’d been left behind, Izuku was fulfilling all his dreams and ambitions and you felt like you were doing nothing, like you had achieved nothing

You didn’t want to live like that, you didn’t want to live doing nothing, achieving nothing. You didn’t want to feel useless, you didn’t want to be useless. So you decided you wouldn’t be anything.

You set down the phone and looked at the sight in front of you. You had three bottles of different medications on the edge of the sink. You filled your glass with water and downed the first handful, and then a second one, and then a third one. You leaned against the sink and looked in the mirror. Your vision was going blurry and your hand slipped off the edge of the sink, hitting the glass that still had a little water in it. It dropped on the tile floor of the bathroom and shattered.

You staggered backwards and slid down to the floor, leaning your back against the wall. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying when you looked in the mirror, but you could feel the tears streaming down your cheeks. You hit the floor next to you, and your fist made contact with one of the shards from the broken glass. You didn’t care about the pain, you just kept hitting the floor.

At some point you passed out. You weren’t really sure when it happened, since you just kind of drifted off gradually. you didn’t know how much time had passed when you awoke to someone shaking you. Well you weren’t fully awake, more like barely conscious.

Midoriya had come home to find you slumped against the wall next to the bathroom door, with your hand bloody and you not responding to his pleas to wake up.

“Oh god, nononononono” he muttered before he checked for your pulse. It was there, a bit weak but there. “Thank goodness” he sighed.

Midoriya called an ambulance and you were transported to the hospital. He was sitting in the back of the ambulance with you, holding your hand while you drifted in and out of consciousness.

You remembered Izuku picking you up and carrying you outside. It was a bit chilly, but his warm arms were wrapped around you. He laid you down somewhere, probably an ambulance since you could hear a siren. You passed out again a little bit after the ambulance stopped.

You were taken away by the nurses and Midoriya was left just standing on the hallway, totally lost for what he should do.

“Sir, you can follow me to the waiting area” a nurse said, and he did as he was told.

Midoriya sat down in the waiting room, and he waited, and waited, and waited. After some hours a nurse came to tell him that you had had to have your stomach pumped, but you were going to be okay. The amount of pills you had taken wasn’t lethal, but it was still dangerous. You were wheeled into one of the patient rooms and Midoriya pulled a chair next to your bed and once again he waited.

When you woke up, you were in bed. For a moment you thought you were sleeping at home so you instinctively reached for Izuku who usually slept on your right side, but there was no one there, just the edge of the bed.

“(Name), are you awake?” you heard Izuku ask from the other side of you.

“Mmmmhhmm” you mumbled in the affirmative and sat up stretching your arms towards the ceiling.

The motion made your hand hurt, so you checked why. Your hand was wrapped in bandages, and the side opposite to your thumb hurt the most.

“They had to give you some stitches, your hand was a bloody mess when I found you” Midoriya said quietly.

You finally looked at him. He had been crying, his eyes were puffy and his cheeks red.

“I’m sorry” you whispered.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked, with a serious tone, ignoring your apology.

“Not much, I know I took some pills, but I don’t know how much, or how I hurt my hand, let alone how much time has passed between then and now”

“The assumption is you took them last night, I found you early in the morning, and you were brought here. So it’s probably been almost 24 hours”

“I was out for quite a while then, huh” you said.

“Yeah” Midoriya said and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of himself

“You’re disappointed with me, aren’t you?” you had to force yourself to ask.

“No, I’m just really worried” he sighed.

“I think… we should break up” you said.

You didn’t actually want to break up with him, but you couldn’t bear to see him in so much pain because of something you did.

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want you to have to deal with this, you don’t deserve it” you sniffled.

Midoriya wasn’t sure if he could get you to change your mind. He knew you were the kind of person that didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially him, but this suggestion was just plain stupid.

“Do you really think that I’m the kind of person who would just leave you alone with this?”

“I know you’re not, but-”

“No buts, you’re not getting rid of me that easily”

“I don’t want to be a cause of pain for you, Izuku. I don’t want you to cry because of me or sit in the hospital because I couldn’t deal and did something to hurt myself”

“Hey” he grabbed your hand. “I’m in this for all of it, all of you. It doesn’t matter what we’ll have to go through, we’ll survive it together”

“I love you so much” you started sobbing and squeezed his hand.

“It’s gonna be okay” Midoriya said and kissed you on the forehead.

~Kirishima Eijirou~

You didn’t know what came over you again. It wasn’t like things had been going too well for you lately, but suddenly it seemed to increase tenfold. You felt so incredibly overwhelmed and exhausted. You had barely slept at all during the last week, and had called sick into work. They would probably fire you soon, but at that moment, you couldn’t care less.

You walked into the bedroom, and sat on your side of the bed. You opened the top drawer in your nightstand. There they were, all your medications in their little bottles and boxes. You took out the two strongest ones and set the bottles on the nightstand. You just looked at them for a while, not touching them, but you knew what you were going to do, what you very strongly felt like you had to do.

You took the first bottle and screwed off the child safety cap. You moved closer to the middle of the bed and poured the contents of the bottle in front of you on the bed. You reached for the other bottle and almost dropped it, but managed to keep your grip. You opened that one too and poured it next to the other pile of pills.

The medications were a bit different in color but almost identical in shape. Again you paused to just look at them and take in what you had decided to do. You just sat there on the bed for like ten minutes, before you scooped up the first handful of pills. You grabbed your water bottle from the nightstand and downed the pills with no hesitation. You couldn’t swallow them all at once so there was a bitter taste in your mouth, before you took another mouthful of water.

When you had downed what was probably half of the amount of pills you had poured on the bed, you started to feel woozy and weak. You accidentally dropped the water bottle onto the floor, but you couldn’t be bothered to pick it up. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing did, everything was about to be gone for you.

Kirishima had been away for the last day. He had been doing a big sting on a gang of villains with some other pro heroes, and the whole thing had stretched way longer than he thought. He had to debrief with the police afterwards of course and give a status report at the agency he was working at. So when he finally got home, it was early the next morning.

He snuck into the apartment quietly, figuring you were still asleep. Kirishima decided to take a look in the bedroom, but you didn’t seem to be in bed. He was a bit confused now, where were you if not still in bed?

Kirishima was about to leave the room when he noticed something weird on the bed. Something white and round, multiple of those actually. He rounded the bed, and found you laying on the floor next to the bed.

“(Name)?” he whispered as he hurried to you.

You weren’t moving. He took you into his arms and sat down on the bed. Maybe you had just hit your head when falling off the bed, maybe the pills had nothing to do with this.

“(Name)?” he said louder this time.

It was like you were underwater. You heard someone calling your name, but it sounded like it was coming from very far away, too far away. Why couldn’t you just sink in peace? Why couldn’t whoever it was just let you drift deeper?

Kirishima knew you hated hospitals, but he didn’t see any other choice than calling an ambulance. He hated feeling so useless.

“Hang in there, okay (Name)? I’m getting you help” he said, tearing up.

Suddenly you didn’t feel like you were underwater anymore. You heard Eijirou’s voice and your eyes fluttered open.

“(Name)!”

You reached your hand to touch his cheek, but you didn’t have the strength to lift your arm all the way. Kirishima grabbed your hand and placed it on his cheek, holding it there and placing a kiss on your palm.

“Hey beautiful” he said with a smile, tears streaming down his face. “I was so scared for you”

“Eiji” you said weakly.

“I know you don’t want to, but I should really get you to a hospital” he said.

“No” you argued.

“You’re in a bad way and you need help”

“I’m fine” you muttered.

You couldn’t really get your thoughts together. It was like you couldn’t grab onto them and make them stick together. You just knew the last thing you wanted to do was to go to the hospital. You’d been through this before, last time you had been alone but you had been through this. With the amount of pills you had managed to take you weren’t in a life threatening situation, but you were sure to be pretty out of it for quite a while

“You’re not fine babe” he wiped his cheeks dry with his sleeve.

“No hopstial” you mumbled.

Kirishima didn’t really know what to do. He wanted to respect your wishes, but he also wanted to make sure you were okay. It might have been unwise but he decided not to take you to the hospital after all. He was terrified of what could’ve happened to you, of what you could’ve done to yourself, and quite honestly he wasn’t entirely sure how he could help you, but he would try his best.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #deku #kirishima eijirou #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha angst #bnha angst #comfort #bnha x reader #mha x reader #overdose tw #drugs tw #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction

146 notes · View notes

nymphiria · 3 years ago

Note

Kakucho work is amazing!

Can i request him being in love with prostitute,who work in Bonten owned brothel/club if you are ok with that topic?

Like she was newbie there due some problems or her clients were mean,while kaku is sweet? ( you can chose👉🏻👈🏻)

"save your tears for another day..."

hitto kakucho

tw: prostitution, mean client ew punch him, reader being a slight bimbo, bonten nightclub do be nasty, kakucho pulling a gun

the air in the club reeked of bourbon and cigarettes. the sound of women giggling at men's stupid flirtations was coupled by the soft music in the background. drinks clinked and "lovers" flitted about. all of these things to distract him, and yet, kakucho couldn't take his eyes off you. out of all the prostitutes in the club, you were the only one he took an interest in.

you were perched on the lap of some sleezy bastard smoking a cigar. concentrating on your client, you sweetly flirted and laughed with him. you looked like a fish out of water even in this setting, no, especially in this setting. you looked too...pure. if you weren't in this club, he never would've guessed you slept with men for money. hell, in regular clothes he would've thought you were the wife of some boring office worker. he was a little glad, though, that you weren't in regular clothes. the dress you were wearing barely covered what it was supposed to. one wrong move and your tits would pop out of the top of the dress.

your client was too busy drunkenly joking with other men in the club to even pay attention to you. "if i had her on my lap i wouldn't be able to focus on anything else" kakucho grimaced at the old man. you looked desperate for his attention. so needy and pliant. it was obvious you were new to this. you picked up the bottle of bourbon and tried to pour it into the glass he was holding. you were shaking like a newborn deer. it was so cute. you were just so adorable-

"fuck! you stupid slut you can't even pour a drink, right?!"

"i-i'm so sorry sir i didn't mean to!"

you frantically apologized to the man, but it was too late. his hand had already come up and slapped you straight across the face. the man had thrown you off his lap and onto the hard marble floor. kakucho didn't know what came over him but before he knew it he was grabbing the man and holding his gun in his face.

"if you ever hit her again, ill blow your brains out all over this fucking floor got it?!"

"who the fuck are you?? let go of me you skinny bitch."

"i own this fucking club." kakucho waved security over. "take this piece of shit out of my club. make sure he learns his lesson."

you stared up at him in disbelief. after making sure the client was sent away, kakucho offered you his hand and smiled kindly at you. you were so confused. why would this handsome stranger help you? he helped you up and led you to a room in the back. it was far more comfortable than the stuffy room at the front of the club. sitting down on the couch, he motioned for you to sit.

"what's your name, sweetheart?"

you shyly murmured your name. he chuckled at your timidity and leaned forward. he looked you up and down before pulling a cigarette out of his pocket.

"um, sir?" with the cigarette between his teeth, he hummed an acknowledging response. "why did you help me? i-i don't have much to give you in return."

he took a deep inhale before answering, "well, i guess i just don't like seeing pretty girls like you all bruised up. as for repaying me, it's not necessary. however, as a thanks, you could stay here and have a drink with me." for the first time ever, you were eager to accompany a strange man in a shady club. and for the first time, you felt safe with him.

#[ ᜊ ᭡ ] - writings #» kakucho #kakucho thirst #» tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers thirst #tokrev x reader #kakucho hitto #kakucho fluff #tokrev #tokyo revengers fluff

164 notes · View notes

oshicakes · 4 years ago

Text

fetching them when they're drunk

pairings. ushijima wakatoshi x reader, haiba lev x reader, kageyama tobio x reader

warnings. alcohol, drunk (always drink moderately guys)

genre. fluff, aged up

an. i hope you're all doing good and enjoying this day! love lots. 💖

Ushijima Wakatoshi

you got a call from him asking you to come and fetch him at the bar they've been drinking with his former highschool teammates in volleyball.

he was the only one who's not talking. and when he spotted you, he instantly stood up and called you.

both of you bid goodbye to them. the trip was silent and it's just a short drive since it's pretty late and not that much car are on the street.

when both of you got inside the house, he instantly wrapped his arms around your shoulder. "hm. you smell so nice."

"toshi, you're heavy."

"no im not. i feel like im floating actually. it's like im light as a feather now." yup, he's drunk.

you led him to his bedroom and make him lay down on the bed and let you change his clothes.

he grabbed your wrist when he saw that you're done. "cuddle with me, please."

did i say that he's clingy when he's drunk? cuz he is. he just seemed calm and quiet at first but when the two of you are alone he's starting to get clingy.

"ill just grab a water and ibuprofen for you."

"no, you'll leave me and go home. sleep with me, please." he wobbly get up from laying on his bed and sit up while he wrapped his arms around you.

you sighed and caress his hair. "okay, but let me change into a comfy clothes." he then nodded like a child.

as soon as you lay beside him, he automatically envelop you with a hug almost hovering you.

"toshi, you're squeezing me." you said then lightly pats his back.

he just hummed and it went silent. not long after he changed the position, now you're on top of him. it made you squeal but he doesn't seemed bothered by it, not one bit.

"why don't you just live with me? it sucks seeing you walk the other path whenever our day ends. i always miss the warmth that you gave me. but if you don't want to, it's alright. i respect your decision."

you didnt expect that he's actually thinking about living together. all this time you never thought of him opening up this topic.

drunk people do say honest stuffs and blurts out what their heart says.

"okay, let's start moving my things on my day off. but for now, let's sleep."

Haiba Lev

you got a call from yaku telling you how drunk your boyfriend is and that if you want you can fetch him which you agreed.

he's a mess. he's loud and couldn't walk straight anymore.

thankfully kuroo and yaku helped you getting him inside the backseat. you thanked them and bid goodbye.

along the car ride, his eyes are closed, head's resting on the car seat and both arms and legs are open.

"hm.. are you taking me home?" he suddenly said.

"yes."

"really? did y/n sent you to fetch me?"

"i'm y/n, lev."

"oh no! i'm dead! don't tell this to y/n, okay? i made a promise to not get drunk." he even put his index finger on his lips and made a shh sound.

he opened his eyes, still not moving, and stare at you at the rear view mirror. "do you know, y/n?"

"lev, im y/n."

"you look like y/n. but im sure that you're not y/n." you just sighed. it went silent for a minute when he spoke again but this time he's serious and smiling.

"did you know that i love y/n so much? my s/o's the best person in the whole wide world and nothing compares to y/n. y/n was there from the beginning, y/n stayed and never leave my side even though it's getting hard day by day being with me. y/n understands me, forgives me with my shortcomings and loves me despite everything. i hope someday when i asked the magic question, y/n would say yes."

you had to stop and pull over because you started to cry.

"eh??? y/n???!!" he was so surprise to see and more importantly seeing you cry. he abruptly transferred to the shotgun seat.

"why are you crying? is this because i broke our promise to not get drunk? im sorry. i always made you cry." you shook your head and dried your tears away then finally smiling at him.

"lev?" he tilts his head and hummed. "it's a yes." he tried asking you what was that for but you didn't give him any answers leaving him thinking about it for a couple of days.

Kageyama Tobio

"y/n, thank you for coming." daichi greeted you along with the remaining sober karasuno vbc alumni.

kageyama's almost half asleep now while holding onto his drink. "tobio, let's go home." you said as you help him get up from his chair.

kiyoko offered to drive the both of you which you accepted since you didn't know that kageyama didn't brought his car.

you carefully guide him inside the passenger's seat then sat next to him. while kiyoko also took care of his tipsy husband tanaka.

"noooo! don't touch me!" he shoved your hands away from him as you tried to make him sit properly.

"tobio, why did you do that?" again, you tried to touch him but this time he hit you hard on your hands.

it stings! one thing's for sure it will leave a bruise on you tomorrow.

"nooo! stop touching me, you stupid!"

"tobio, it's me y/n."

"stop pretending to be y/n! y/n can't be here. im with my former karasuno teammates we had a drink and y/n's not there."

"well now im here because daichi called me because you are drunk."

"no, im not drunk just tipsy. wait, you're swerving our topic! don't touch me okay? i have an s/o already." he said as he tried to move closer to the car door.

you were about to say something when he cut you off.

"i have an s/o, okay? l/n y/n is the name and y/n's the only person i love. so don't touch me again. im a loyal man to my lover."

after that he never talked again and went sleeping. you thanked both kiyoko and tanaka for offering a ride home.

you were panting when you lay your boyfriend down on his bed. you were confused when he crossed his arms on his chest and started murmuring.

you got close to him and geard him say, "no, please. go away. im married! im a married man! i may not have a ring but i tell im married. don't touch me, i'll tell this to y/n and that will make y/n mad at you. i swear you won't like it when y/n's angry."

"oh god, tobio. what will i do to you." after saying those you decided to just sleep on the couch for his peace of mind.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima headcanons #haiba lev x reader #lev x reader #lev headcanons #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x reader #kageyama headcanons

845 notes · View notes

arvinsescape · 3 years ago

Text

Attention.

A/N: I’m back! Felt ready to post something, I’m not sure on a schedule yet but I’m going to try and start posting a few things again! Things are looking better at the minute and I’m in a better head space.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of smut.

W/C: 5.1K.

Your chest tightened the longer you sat there, glass of wine in your hand as you slouched in your chair. The tears you felt building behind your eyes burning your eyeballs as you blinked rapidly to hold them back. You knew he’d been distant recently, spending less time with you over the last couple of weeks but you hoped tonight that’d change, apparently not. You’d been sat here now for forty-five minutes waiting for Tom to show up and so far? Nothing.

The looks you were receiving from the waitress were beginning to annoy you, you hated pity, you really did. She knew who you were and who you were waiting for, she’d served you many times before in this restaurant, she was lovely and probably didn’t mean anything by her pitiful looks. You reached for the bottle of wine as you refilled your glass, the waitress making her way over.

“Are you ready to order?” She asked and you looked up at her with a sad smile receiving one in return.

“I’ll just take the bill please.” You said in defeat as she nodded in understanding and disappeared. You almost jumped in your seat as the one across from you scraped across the floor, Tom making an appearance.

“I’m so sorry darling, I got held up.” He said as he reached for your hand across the table, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and allowed him to place his hand over yours. Not wanting to cause a scene. “You look beautiful.” He said as he ran his thumb along the back of your hand and you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” You sighed out and he furrowed his brows.

“Are you okay?” He asked and you nodded. “You sure? I’m sorry I was fifteen minutes late baby.” Baby it made your heart flip in your chest, he hadn’t called you that in almost three weeks, it was always your favourite pet name he gave you. That and Princess had the ability to make you crumble at his feet but not right now, the ache in your chest intensifying.

“Forty-five.” You corrected quietly and his furrow deepened as the waitress returned, bill in hand. She looked almost as surprised as you had to see Tom sat across from you.

“Do you still want the bill?” She asked and before you could speak Tom interrupted.

“No, sorry to mess you around but I got my times mixed up. I think we’re good to eat now?” Tom asked you and you shrugged in response. Tom and the waitress both looking at you for a straight answer. You felt bad holding her up and messing her around, it was a busy night for her, you could see that.

“Yeah, we’re good. I’m sorry for messing you around.” You smiled apologetically and she smiled in response, dismissing your panic and taking Tom’s drinks order and yours for a second bottle of wine.

“Darling- “

“Don’t Tom, I’m not in the mood.” You interrupted and he nodded slightly in response, neither of you a fan of making a scene in public. “How was your day?” You asked as you took in a deep breath, ready to make this as civil as possible. Tom sensed it, he knew this was going to be short lived, the civility between the two of you would end as soon as you stepped foot through the door to your home.

“It was, yeah, it was good, nothing to report.” He shrugged and your anger brewed, he was late, got held up but didn’t have anything to report? “Yours?”

“Yeah, was good, busy day in the office but other than that it was fine.” You said with a small smile.

This continued on, the dinner being far from what you’d been hopeful for. You ate, made small talk, finished your drinks, paid the bill and walked home. It was cold on the walk home, your arms covered in goosebumps, silently cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. You rubbed your hands along your arms to try and create friction and warm your cold arms.

“Here.” Tom said as he handed you his blazer, you were feeling stubborn, wanting to give him the cold shoulder.

“I’m good.” You said.

“Y/N,” he warned, he knew he was in the wrong, but that didn’t stop him worrying about you and being his usual protective self. “I know you’re angry with me and we’re gonna talk about it but you’re cold, please don’t be so stubborn, I don’t want you to get ill.” He said as he placed the blazer around your shoulders.

Your heart lifted as you became encased in his warmth, became encased in his scent you’d missed over the last couple of weeks. You pulled the blazer on properly, hands digging into the pockets to try and warm them up, it was working, slowly, nothing like when it was in Tom’s but that wasn’t an option right now. The feeling of dread hit you as you made your way up the driveway and into the house, the inevitable argument you were about to have settling in your chest.

You made your way into the living room, Tom following carefully behind as you took your heels off and greeted Tess, bag finding its way to the floor. You took in the living room, the TV in standby but the orange light of his PlayStation catching your eye. It was in rest mode, a sign he’d been on it before heading out to meet you and showed his intention of firing it back up when he returned. It made your blood boil, that’s why he was late.

“Darling..” he trailed off as he watched the realisation set in on your face.

“Were you late because you were gaming with the boys?” You asked and watched as Tom cringed at how awful it sounded.

“I swear I lost track of time.” He defended and you nodded as you walked passed him and into the kitchen. “Princess, I’m sorry.” He said as he followed you, your eyes moving to the calendar on the fridge. Your hand writing catching your eye, you had written the correct time, you’d reminded him that morning as well. “Y/N/N?” He asked carefully and you spun on your heel to look at him.

“You’re an arsehole.” You stated simply and he let out a sigh as he nodded.

“I know. I swear I thought you said half seven, not seven.”

“You would still have been late.”

“I lost track of time.”

“Thought you got caught up?” You fired back and his face fell.

“Come on, I’m trying here.”

“Really hard, I noticed.” You spat out sarcastically and you saw the flash of confusion behind his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m just used to it at the minute.” You shrugged as you walked passed him again and up the stairs, Tom hot on your heels.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter, go back and play with the boys, I’m sure that was how you wanted this evening to turn out.” You said, voice far more stern than you’d expected considering the heart ache and tears that were starting to take over at the situation.

“I’m confused here, I know I was late today but I feel like I’m missing something else.” He said as you walked into the bathroom.

“Just me.” You mumbled out in hopes he wouldn’t hear you but he did. Your hand moving to the shower to turn it on and let it warm up.

“What?” He asked, a hint of anger to his tone.

“Nothing, just leave me alone.” You snapped.

“I don’t want to, you’re obviously upset with me and I want to know what’s going on.” He said, arms crossed over his chest.

“Makes a change.” You spat at him and his face turned to one of anger, you were both growing more and more irritated with one another.

“You gonna tell me what you mean by that? Or are we gonna continue with the riddles?” He asked, voice stern. Although he knew he’d fucked up, he hated when you got into one of these moods when you were either too angry or too upset to be straight with him.

“Can you just leave me alone while I shower?” You asked and he huffed before making his way out of the bathroom and you slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure. You needed to get your thoughts straight, pull yourself together and allow yourself to cry, you’d wanted to all evening.

You took your dress off throwing it into the basket as you undressed and got into the shower, letting the warm water raise your temperature, the walk home had left you cold. You let the tears fall as you let the heart ache set in, a part of you wondered if he didn’t know he was doing it, but then wouldn’t he miss you too? Wouldn’t he miss the closeness you’d not had for a couple of weeks.

Another, more insecure part of you wondered if he’d met someone else, he hadn’t touched you in a good few weeks, not in that way. It was unusual for you not to be all over each other, not when he was home, so it left you wondering if he just wasn’t interested anymore. It wasn’t that you hadn’t tried, you had, wearing things around the house that usually got him going but recently his eyes would flick from the TV and then back to it. The tears fell faster at the thought, you loved him, god you loved him more than you could bare at times.

You finished up your shower as you tried to compose yourself, letting the anger set in because you couldn’t focus on the heart ache right now. You’d just cry in front of him and you didn’t want to do that right now. You got changed into your pajama pants, they felt strange to wear because you barely wore them, a hoody was pulled over your head as you placed your hands into the pocket.

You made your way back into the living room where Tom was, the TV still off which surprised you. Tom’s head snapped in your direction, his eyebrows raised at your attire, it was unusual for him to see you in pajama pants, you usually wore them when you were ill and trying to cling to any warmth that you could. You couldn’t shift your thoughts from your head, the thought that he just wasn’t attracted to you anymore.

“Tom,” you let out in an almost pleading way, the anger you wanted to hold onto slipping. His eyes found yours and softened at the clear sadness and heart break in them. He moved carefully from the couch, making his way over to you, standing in front of you as you found his feet suddenly interesting.

“Hey,” he said as he placed a hand under your chin and tilted your face to look at him. Your eyes were red and rimmed with tears threatening to spill. “Talk to me.” He almost pleaded, voice soft.

“I” you started before a sob choked your throat. “I miss you.” You said as you fell into his chest and cried into it, your hands fisting his shirt as your tears stained it. One of his hands found your back whilst the other found your hair, massaging your scalp slowly.

“I’m right here princess.” He said as he stroked your hair. Your anger rose at that, he had no idea how distant he’d been.

“You haven’t been.” You said sternly as you pushed back from his chest and took a step back, his hands falling from your frame.

“What? I’ve literally been home for a month.” He said, confusion evident.

“Not really, your precious boys have been more important than me.” You spat, that anger you wanted to hold onto was back and you didn’t want to let go of it.

“What do you mean?”

“Your fucking PlayStation Tom. Your golf dates with them. Your complete lack of any sort of interest in me.” You shouted at him and he huffed, his own anger taking over.

“I think you’re being a little dramatic. I’ve been here, I’ve been with you. I miss the boys too you know.” He said, voice colder than you was expecting.

“I get that, I do.” You acknowledged. “But you don’t come to bed with me anymore, in fact you come to bed when I’ve fallen asleep these days. You fail to tell me when you’re going to play golf with the boys, I find out in the morning when you’re already set to go. I asked you to give me your sole attention tonight and you couldn’t, the boys coming first.”

“I have apologized for tonight, I don’t know what more you want. I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve been prioritizing the boys, I haven’t meant to.” He said that coldness still in his voice.

“It’s not just that. You’re dismissive, if you’re not online with the boys you’re playing some shite and that takes all your attention.” You said, you’d created a distance between the two of you, your arms now folded across your chest, mirroring him.

“So you want attention?” He spat out.

“Don’t patronize me.” You spat back as you pointed a finger at him. “You don’t call me anything other than my name at the moment, the last couple of hours have been rare in the past couple of weeks. You haven’t touched me.” You said, anger faltering slightly in the last sentence.

“What are you talking about? That’s not true. Not touched you? I distinctly remember you straddling my lap the other day.” He shouted at you.

“To try and get your attention Tom.” You said, anger falling from your voice. “To try and get you to notice I’m still here. We didn’t exactly do anything, you didn’t even turn your fucking console off. Tom, you haven’t slept with me in almost three weeks.”

“You know, if you wanted me to come off my console, you could’ve asked.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” You said sadly and his face fell, the anger was disappearing for the both of you now.

“Look, I’m sorry…” He started as you interrupted him, a question that had the room falling to silence.

“Is there someone else?” You voiced your insecurity, your true fear of why he was so distant. He’d been back a month, you’d slept together once and he barely made time for you, what if he had found someone whilst he was away. You knew he hadn’t cheated, he wouldn’t, you knew that but that didn’t mean he couldn’t become attracted to someone that wasn’t you.

“I haven’t cheated on you.” He said softly after a while, stepping towards you carefully.

“That wasn’t what I asked.” You said as the tears started again, your hand that was wrapped in the sleeve of your hoody coming to wipe at your face. It wasn’t long before Tom’s hand encased it and pulled it from your face, his eyes finding your own, the heartbreak in them was so evident you regretted ever asking the question.

“Baby, no. There isn’t anyone else, not for me. I would never, I couldn’t, you’re perfect princess.” He spoke and it was so honest that it pushed that insecurity way into the back of your mind again. “I’m sorry.” He spoke, your hands in his as a tear made its way down his face.

“I just want your attention Tom. Not all the time, I understand you miss the boys, I do. But I miss you too Tom, I didn’t say anything because I thought tonight would fix everything but it just made it worse.” You spoke more to yourself than him. “I just feel like you haven’t missed me half as much as I’ve missed you.” You finished and with that you took your hands from his and made your way upstairs, leaving Tom with his own thoughts.

You went into the bedroom, closing and locking the door as you made your way into bed, pulling the covers over your frame as you cried into your pillow. It was almost half an hour later when you heard Tom try the door, you could almost imagine his face when he realised it was locked, this wasn’t something you’d done even in your worst shouting matches.

“Baby,” he called and you heard his forehead make contact with the wood of the door. “Can you open the door for me? I just wanna hold you, I’m so sorry.” You heard the sadness in his voice, the pure heart break with himself.

“Tom, I just wanna be on my own right now.” You said, it felt contradictory to the argument you’d had but you just wanted to be by yourself at the minute.

“Okay, you know where I am if you need me.” You heard him sigh as he disappeared. It took a while but eventually sleep took over.

You woke up to an alarm blaring and Tess barking furiously, it startled you awake as you bolted out of bed, unlocked the door and flew down the stairs. You had to stifle a laugh as you took in the sight in the kitchen, Tom was batting a tea towel across the fire alarm as Tess barked and ran in circles around his feet.

You quickly made your way over to the kitchen door, opening it as Tess shot out, you made your way to the window and opened those too. Tom looked at you with an embarrassed smile gracing his lips as the smoke made its way from the kitchen and outside.

“Sorry.” He said once the alarm had stopped blaring. You laughed as you looked around the kitchen, it looked as though a bomb had gone off.

“What were you doing?” You asked amused.

“Making you breakfast.” He said shyly as he bit his lip.

“That was never gonna be a good idea, unless it was cold.” You teased and he laughed, it was no secret he wasn’t the best cook in the house.

“I’m sorry, I was just, I don’t know.” He concluded as he watched you begin to clean the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to wake you up so abruptly either.”

“It’s okay.” Your heart warmed, you know what he was trying to do and it felt like a small step in the right direction. “I know what you were trying to do.” You said as you made your way in front of him and kissed his cheek. “I appreciate it.” The atmosphere was way better than last night but there was still a sadness in the air.

“You locked me out.” Tom said, voice laced in nothing other than sadness, you felt guilty but you needed to be alone last night.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just, I needed to be alone.” You said, hand on his cheek as you swiped your thumb over it. He nodded, his hand finding your hip as he squeezed it slightly.

“I get it. I’m sorry.” He said as he carefully leant forward and caught your lips in his own, you smiled into the kiss, it felt nice to have everything out in the open, a weight lifted. “I love you.” He murmured as he pulled back, forehead resting against your own.

“I love you.” You smiled before taking a deep breath and looking around the kitchen, lightly patting his cheek with your hand. “We should clean this place up.” You laughed and he nodded.

Almost twenty minutes later and the kitchen looked normal again, your laughs filling the kitchen as you tried to work out how he’d done half of the things he’d done.

“Do you wanna go and grab something instead? I don’t think I should try cooking again.” Tom teased and you grinned.

“I’d love to.” You said as you made your way back upstairs to get changed, Tom joining you.

“I’m sorry.” He said and you looked at him, ready to respond before his phone rang. “Hey mate.” Tom said as he placed the phone against his ear, you busied yourself with fixing your hair. “Not today.” He said, you knew he was talking to one of the boys and your heart hammered in your chest, was he gonna ditch you for them again? “Taking Y/N/N out.” He said, happiness lacing his tone. “Maybe mate, I’ll see what she wants to do.” He said, phone between his ear and shoulder as he fixed his belt.

“Been a bit of a shit boyfriend recently.” Tom said and you heard the laugh that filled the speakers, Harrison. “Shh.” You suddenly heard Tom interrupt his friend, “she’s literally right here.” He said and you felt your chest tighten, what could Harrison have to say that you couldn’t maybe overhear? “I will, cheers mate, bye.” Tom said as he put the phone down and placed it in his pocket, you shook your thoughts away as your eyes met his in the mirror. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” You said as he held his hand out for you and you took it as he interlaced your fingers.

You made your way towards your local café, a place you absolutely loved and Tom found endearing, a lovely old lady ran it and it was cheap and cheerful. A stark contrast to the usual places you and Tom would eat, but you loved it here.

“Y/N.” Mary said as you both walked through the door, a warm smile on her face. “You brought Tom too, I feel underdressed for an A-list celebrity to be here.” She said and you giggled.

“You know he doesn’t care.” You said as you hugged her, she was like a grandmother to almost everyone who stepped through the door.

“Thank you by the way, my grandson was over the moon when I took him your autograph.” She said to Tom who smiled, a small blush creeping up his cheeks, he may have been famous but he was forever humble.

You ate your usual and drank your coffee as Tom focused his attention on making you laugh. It worked as he placed some icing sugar on your nose that was on the tip of his finger. You shook your head as you wiped your nose with a laugh. You’d really missed him over the last couple of weeks and you couldn’t be more thankful you’d finally said something last night.

“Tom, I’ve told you before, you don’t need to tip me so much.” Mary said as she watched Tom place a ten-pound note in her tip jar.

“The service was exceptional as always.” Tom shrugged as he placed a kiss to her cheek in goodbye. He used to tip a lot more but Mary had in return started not charging for the two of you to come in, the ten-pound tip seemed like the most she’d accept without throwing in freebies.

“You are a charmer Mr Holland.” She smiled as she hugged you.

“Is he?” You teased and Mary laughed.

“He is, however, he’s lucky to have you.” She smiled as she pinched your cheek. “About time he got down on one knee.” Mary teased and you saw Tom tense slightly, your heart sinking at his reaction, was that not something he wanted?

“Don’t scare the poor boy.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood in your heart.

“Not scared.” Tom said with a smile as he took your hand in his and laced your fingers together.

You had an amazing day, went for a walk and talked to each other, it felt nice, normal. You still had a heavy feeling in your heart, thoughts of what Harrison had said that had caused him to quieten him so quickly invading your mind. You tried your best to shrug it off, it could be anything, your insecurities getting the better of you. You were cuddling on the couch watching a film when he suddenly got up.

“Where are you going?” You asked.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He waved off as he made his way out of the room.

It wasn’t long before he placed himself next to you, envelope in his hand. You furrowed your brows as he handed it to you.

“I know I’m a few days early but here.” He said and you opened the envelope, pulling out two tickets to the Maldives.

“Tom, what?”

“Happy birthday.” He said as he kissed your cheek and you smiled, looking at the date on your ticket, you were set to go on your birthday, a ridiculously early flight time stamped on the ticket. “I know how much you love it there and I wanted to get you something nice.” Tom said and you smiled at him.

“Nice is a bottle of perfume. Tom, this is so expensive.” You scalded and he laughed as he pulled you into his chest.

“Nothing’s too expensive when it comes to you.”

“You cheesy fucker.” You laughed as you kissed his t shirt covered chest. “Thank you. Is that the surprise Harrison wasn’t supposed to ruin?” You asked and Tom laughed.

“Yeah.” Tom lied through his teeth, the actual surprise was currently in his office drawer. The black box hidden beneath scripts he’d been reading over. He was glad that you hadn’t asked about his golf trip last week, it was never a golf trip in the first place, he’d gone to your parents to ask permission, Harry promising to cover if you asked if they’d been together.

“It’s gorgeous.” You said as you sat on the decking outside your hut, feet in the clear water below. Tom sat next to you, taking your hand in his.

“Yeah, it is.” He agreed as he played with your fingers. “That’s why I was so caught up with the boys, I wanted to make sure this trip was perfect, we were running through ideas.” Tom suddenly said and you turned to look at him.

“How much planning can one holiday take?” You teased and he shrugged as he placed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“You know me.” He said and you laughed. “The lack of sex though, there was no excuse for that, I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere.” He said with a small smile and you placed your free hand on his chest as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’ve made up for that.” You bit your lip, your legs still aching from the activities that had taken place no less than ten minutes ago. Your thighs, neck and chest covered in marks he’d left, you bit your lip thinking about it as you removed your hand from his chest and traced the marks on your thighs.

“I suppose I should let you in on a little secret.” He said and you furrowed your brows looking up at him. He smiled before standing and bringing you with him. “I’ve been distant because I’ve been planning something.” He said, both of your hands in his. You gasped as he got down on one knee in front of you. “I wanted it to be perfect.” He said as he fished around in his pocket. He pulled the black box from them.

“Tom.” You gasped, heart soaring, you were at a loss for words.

“When you asked me the other day if there was someone else, I was so heart broken. Princess, I’m sorry, I’ve been so stressed about asking you this question, so scared I’ll get it wrong that it sort of took over. I love you more than anything, you are the only woman I’m interested in, I’ve never in my life felt more at home than I do when I’m with you. I have never met someone who understands me the way you do, who’s as supportive as you are. I want to give you everything you deserve and more, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Y/N L/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” He asked and you were both crying, both letting happiness consume you as he opened the box.

The ring was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, it was all too much, the happiness you felt was too much and you fell onto your knees in front of him, hands grasping his back as you pulled him into you. Head finding his shoulder as you cried into it. He held you close as he too cried into your hair.

You pulled back after a while, looking into his eyes and you swear you couldn’t be happier. That’s what Harrison had mentioned that he didn’t want you to hear, that’s why he tensed in the café, he was probably worrying you’d mention you didn’t want that.

“You gonna keep me hanging?” Tom asked as he wiped at your eyes. It dawned on you that you hadn’t given him an answer.

“Of course I’ll marry you.” You said and he released a breath he’d clearly been holding. He took the ring and slipped it onto your finger, the sun catching it and making it sparkle in the most brilliant way.

He lifted you both to your feet, hand finding your cheek as he pulled you in for a kiss, your hand slipping into his hair as your other held his bicep. He deepened this kiss as he slipped his hand to cup your neck, his other finding the curve of your bum as he squeezed. You giggled as you pulled back slightly.

“Wanna go for a swim?” You asked and he raised a brow.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged and he laughed.

“Okay darling.” He said as he stepped back slightly, he was so close to the edge of the decking that you couldn’t help it. You bit your lip mischievously as you placed your hands on his chest, he looked down at you and his eyes widened, he was too late to act as you pushed against his chest. He lost balance but not before grasping your hands which meant you fell with him, both your bodies hitting the water which made for a large and loud splash.

You both resurfaced, your body gravitating towards his own as you wrapped your legs around his waist, arms loosely hanging from his shoulders. His hands finding your thighs, your hands making their way into his now wet hair, he smiled up at you and pulled you in for a kiss.

“I love you.” You both said in unison, pure happiness filling both of your hearts.

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine

299 notes · View notes

dontworrysunflower · 4 years ago

Text

You Make It Better | h.s.

warnings: DEPRESSION, i apologize if i do not portray it correctly, i wrote what i could figure out from the internet. if this triggers you PLEASE DO NOT READ OR READ WITH CAUTION, nudity (? idk they shower together), very cheesy sorry

a/n: this is something i wish i had rn because even thought i’m not diagnosed and definitely think am depressed so ig that is where this came from. please, if you ever need someone to talk to, my messages are always open and i have no life so i’ll answer as soon as i can, asks (anonymous too) are always open. also i’m bad at endings so excuse that. (and writing his accent but we’ll ignore that)

word count: 2.9k

feedbacks/reblogs appreciated

masterlist

It was a late Saturday morning when you realized it was going to be a really hard day with your depression. You had woken up earlier than Harry, which was very rare. His arm was tucked between your neck and the pillow, hand laying softly on your arm, your head just below the right swallow tattoo on his chest, the inked butterfly on his stomach stretching with every even breath he took in his sleep.

It wasn’t much longer until he eventually woke up, his fingers suddenly grazing your arm as he fully opened his eyes to look at you. He lets out a guttural groan, stretching his legs under the blanket.

“G’mornin’ lovie,” he said groggily, voice rough as he bends down to press a light kiss to your hair. You don’t move, only your nail lightly scratching his side. His face scrunches up in confusion, and you knew if you were to look up at him you would burst out in tears just from how cute he is. “(y/n)?” He asked, moving down on the bed to be face to face with you. “You okay, baby?” His nose nudged yours, but again, you don’t react. You don’t even look him in the eyes.

All you do is shrug to his question, a little hum falling past your lips.

Then it struck him, and you see the exact moment when it does. But his face doesn’t change to a sympathetic look, he doesn’t frown at you with a sorry look.

Instead, he gives you a small and sleepy smile and pushes a strand of your hair away from your face. He scoots closer to you, moving you to sit on his lap, his boxers laying low on his hips, his inked fern leaves peeking through.

“Another one of those days?” He asked quietly as he moved to put his head right next to yours, his eyes looking up at you.

“Yeah.” You mumble, reaching over to grab the pendant of his necklace, rubbing the green cross with your soft finger.

“How bad?”

You continue to drag your finger over his cross pendant, eyes fixated his chest hairs. You sigh heavily before parting to answer. “Nine.”

“Hmm.” He kissed your forehead. “What made it a little betta’?”

You finally looked up at him, his emerald eyes still had a glassy look, still not fully awake. You’re hesitate to speak, your mouth opening and closing, thinking whether or not you should say what’s on your mind.

Very early in your relationship, you told Harry that it was hard for you to open up to people. You told him your illness made you feel like a burden towards everyone you know, you told him that there may be days where you wouldn’t want to see him because you’d feel like you're getting in the way.

But unlike the other people you’ve been with, he understood and was patient with you. And even though there were days that got really bad, he stayed by your side.

“You can talk to me, baby.” Harry took your hand that was holding his pendant, his finger grazing the skin of your thumb.

Your lips slightly quirk up, but not enough to really show that you were happy. But he could see it.

“You make it better.” You maneuver your hand that was in his to now hold his hand, bringing it closer to your chest and play with his ringless fingers.

When he doesn’t say anything, you look up at him worriedly, scared you’ve said the wrong thing.

But when you do, his face was the definition of happy. He was smiling so wide, his dimples were showing. There was a light hue on his cheeks, bringing his face to life.

You wish you could be that happy right now.

He brought you closer to his chest and pressed his lips to your matted hair. “Wanna just stay in bed all day?” You nod against his chest. “Whatever you want, love.” His arms tightened around you, bringing you impossibly closer, giving you a silent message of I’m here for you.

“Do you want something to eat? Some tea, maybe?” He asked sweetly as he started to pull away, his feet hitting the wooden flooring on your shared bedroom.

You looked up at him, hesitating to answer, but his fingers scratch your scalp in encouragement, his green eyes looking down at you sweetly. “Could-” you hesitate. “Could I just have some tea, please? Peppermint, if we have any.”

He nodded, bending down to press to place a kiss to your nose. “Anything to eat?”

You shake your head and bring the duvet to your face.

Before he can get too far, you grab his hand, getting his attention as he starts to walk away. “What’s up, baby?”

“Can I have a kiss?” you asked shyly, afraid he’ll reject you.

Instead of answering, he just leans down to peck your lips, but you hold his jaw and keep his close.

You give him one last peck before you pull away slightly, lips bruised to a pink color, faces still close.

You peck him one last time then back away, bringing the duvet to your chin.

“Don’t be too long.” You mumble.

He chuckled and kissed your head before walking out of the room.

•••

He comes back a couple minutes later, two mugs in his hands, a banana in between his lips.

You sit up against the headboard, the duvet just under your stomach that’s covered in one of Harry's old striped shirts.

“Thank you.” You mumble as you take the pastel orange mug from Harry’s hand.

You both sit quiet as you sip at your hot beverage, Harry offering you a bite of his banana after a while, but you decline.

Harry takes your empty cup and leaves it on his side table, the banana peel hanging from the rim of his mug.

“Do you wanna do anything?” He asked beside you, taking your hand in his.

“Ca-” You hesitate, scared he’ll say no or you feel like you're being selfish for what you're about to ask. “Can we just cuddle?” You asked with a pout, looking down at your lap.

He lets out a little giggle, getting under the white duvet. “I’d never say no to your cuddles.”

He pulls you close to his chest, the hair on his legs tickling your silky ones. His tattooed arm comes to lay over your stomach.

After a while, your eyes begin to sting, your sight becoming blurry, tears falling down your cheeks.

Harry seems to feel your salty tears fall on his chest. He plays with the ends of your hair and then rubs your arm. “Let it out, baby.”

Your shoulders shake as you sob, uncontrollable tears falling down your cheeks.

Harry held you tighter as you hiccuped, breath evening, eyes shutting as you fall asleep.

•••

When you woke up, the room was drastically darker. Harry’s side lamp was the only source of light.

Harry’s torso was against the headboard, one hand tangled in your hair, the other holding up a book as his eyes scan every word on the page.

When you shuffle under his touch, he closes his book and lays it by his side. “Hi.” He leans down to kiss your head, his hand now by your waist, playing with the hem of your (his) shirt you’re wearing that has risen up.

“What were you reading?” you asked meekly after you yawn, moving your arm across his fern tattoos.

“Love is a mixtape.”

“You love that book.” Your head moves up and down with his chest as he laughs. “Can you read some to me?”

“Sure, baby.”

•••

He had read a chapter or two when you realized, a small gasp leaving your lips. “Weren’t you supposed to go to the studio today?” You held up your weight against your arm, your hand digging into the mattress under you.

Your face scrunched up in guilt, your mind racing with the thought of getting in the way of Harry’s music, never wanting to be the reason he stopped working.

He just hums and and folders the corner of the page he was on before closing the book and leaving it on his side table. “I called Jeff when I was making the tea that I wasn’t going to make it today.”

“But why? You were excited to-”

“No one that matters, baby. There was no way I would’ve left you here by yourself.”

“I would’ve been fi-”

“No, you wouldn’t have and you know it.” His voice changed completely, more firm and stern than how he was talking earlier today. “Baby,” he started, he shifted in his spot on the mattress, turning completely towards you, taking your hands in his. You’ve always loved when you held hands. Loved to feel the comparison in size from your to his and your thumb always grazed his cross tattoo. You always get butterflies when he touches you, and that hasn’t changed since the beginning of your relationship that felt like so long ago.

“It’s okay to not be okay. I know it’s a struggle and everyday I wish I could take this pain from you, but I can’t. The best I can do is be there for you and hold you. And you may feel like you don’t deserve it, but you do. You deserve happiness and more. You may feel like every little thing you do bothers me and others but you don’t. I love you with my entire being, (y/n), and I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me.”

You scoff through foggy eyes, but his dimples and freckles are still prominent in your vision.

“In the rare times that we’re not together and I’m with other people, the first thing people ask me is how you’re doing. Shit, I even get asked about you in interviews and fans I meet on the street ask about you.”

You’re full on sobbing now, his pretty words too much to handle, an overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude and happiness filling your chest.

“You’re not a burden, baby.” He said softly as he pulled you into his lap, his rough fingertips sipping the salty tears from under your eyes. “Say it, please.”

You take in a shaky breath, but an even, firm breath comes out, the ache in your chest a lot lighter, less painful. You lick your chapped lips before speaking, “I’m not a burden.”

His lips press to your temple, the warm skin. You both cry, holding each other tighter than what you thought was possible. You nuzzle your face into his neck, breathing his warmth and scent.

He sighs and gingerly kisses your forehead, his finger twirling the ends of your hair.

“Wanna go take a shower?” Harry asked, your legs tangled with his under the comforter. “We can watch a movie or something after, yeah?” He pushed back the stray hairs that had fallen out of your ponytail, the tie loosening its grip on your hair as you moved around the bed throughout the day.

“Yeah.” you mumble, eyes droopy again, energy slowly fading as the sun faded from the sky.

“C’mon, baby.” He wiggles away from you, standing on the side of the bed, his hand out for you to grab.

You move the duvet off you, goosebumps forming on your exposed legs and arms because you were only wearing one of Harry’s old shirts.

He takes your hand as you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, your feet softly landing on the wooden flooring of your bedroom.

Harry raises your intertwined hands and tenderly pressed his lips to the back of your hand, his dimples smile forming when he sees a blush form on your cheeks. “C’mon, love.” He leads you towards the bathroom, quickly turning on the light.

You walk behind him as he makes his way further in, opening the glass door of the shower to turn on the water, letting it get warm before he turns around to you.

He lifts his own shirt up, exposing his tattooed chest. “You too, love.” He chuckled at you as you just stood there in front of him.

He drops his shirt before tugging at the hem of yours, his eyes looking into yours for approval. You give him a small nod before he brings it up your torso.

He helps you undress the rest of the way, which was quick because you only had your underwear left.

You stayed close as Harry quickly undressed. The butterfly on his stomach expanded as he took in a deep breath, his hand reaching towards you again to lead you to the spraying shower.

The foggy glass door springs open and Harry steps aside for you. “Ladies first.”

Harry’s hand leaves yours to lay it on your back as you step into the steaming shower.

•••

Harry just finished washing your hair, his fingers raking through your wet strands, his chin resting on top of your head. Your hands mindlessly run up and down his back, your cheek against the swallow tattoo on his chest.

His thumb rubs against the side of your face, catching your attention. You look up to his green eyes looking down at you already, his dimples lightly denting his cheeks. “You’re pretty.” He spoke softly, his eyes shifting around your face.

You sheepishly look down at his chest, lightly tracing the butterfly tattoo on his stomach.

He chuckles at your shyness and kisses your forehead. Even though you can’t see it, he looks at you like you hung the moon, he looks at you like a goddess even though you have demons on your shoulders. “Which one’s your favorite?” He whispered in your ear before pressing his lips to it.

You hummed as you leaned back, Harry’s hands on your hips still keeping you close. Your eyes scanned his body, your mind at battle.

You suddenly lift yourself up on your toes, holding on to his shoulders for leverage as you look at the tattoos that cross over, inching close to his back muscles.

“The little guitar doodle, thing.” You said before you unknowingly let out a little giggle, you finger lightly grazing the darkened skin.

“There’s that laugh.” He spoke softly, a small grin widening on his face. His emerald eyes shining in adoration. “I missed it.” His fingers curl the ends of your hair. Your hands move to his face, delicately holding his gorgeous face against yours.

“I love you. Thank you.” You said quietly, tears fogging your sight.

He shakes his head without hesitation, wet curls falling between you. “Nothing to thank me for.” He lifted his head to press a hard kiss on your nose, making a small giggle leave your lips. “There’s that beautiful sound again.” He roughly kissed under your eye, your giggles getting louder. He pecks the corner of your lips before migrating slightly to nip at your pink lips.

Your shoulders relax as you sigh into the kiss, your fingers lightly grazing the skin on Harry's shoulder, his around your waist, giving you a small squeeze.

The warm water cascades behind you, flowing through your hair and falling down to your feet.

He slowly pulls away, so slow that it seemed like he didn’t really want to pull away. Wet strands of his hair fall into his face, your fingers quickly leaving his shoulder to rake them back. “Wanna finish up and get to bed?” He asked quietly, his chipped fingernails faintly grazing the skin of your hip.

You nod, backing up as Harry moved closer to turn off the water behind you. The steamy glass door opens with a pop, Harry’s feet stepping onto the white floor mat to grab towels hanging on the wall. He quickly wraps one around his waist, droplets of water descending down his inked frame, some falling down from his hair onto his shoulder.

You slowly step out of the shower beside Harry, grabbing the towel from his hands and unfolding it to dry your hair and body before wrapping it around yourself.

“Do you want one of my shirts, love?” He asked as he walked out to the bathroom (still completely wet with a water trail behind him) to his dresser, looking through his casual wardrobe.

“If it’s okay with you.” You stayed in the bathroom, watching him move around the bedroom.

“Of course, lovie. That’s why I offered.” He comes in front of you to hand you some clothes, just a pair of his boxers and his old ‘Hot n Hard’ shirt. “Always want you in my clothes. He pecks your nose and pulls away, a small dimple piercing his cheek as he smirked. “Also like you with no clothes.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and pushed at his shoulder, shaking your head at him.

By the time you slid on the shirt he gave you, he was leaning against the doorframe, pink boxers hanging loosely under the fern tattoos. “Can I help with your skincare?” He asked shyly, his cheeks turning the same color as his boxers.

You don’t hesitate to nod, stepping farther into the bathroom to let him in.

He pats the counter, his other hand going to your back. “Sit for me, baby.”

You jumped onto the counter, silently watching him as he gathered your different products, you had too many to count (and didn’t need).

You sat quietly as you watched his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out of his lips. His rough fingers gingerly patting stuff on your face, laughing at your whines when he was dragging down your face instead of smoothing up. “It’ll give me wrinkles!” You groaned.

So now he’ll do the same with his skin.

What? He doesn’t want wrinkles either.

•••

yay!!!

@chillingonlife @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @letsgoparty-ah-ah-ah-yeah @tom-hollands-wife @acciosiriusblack (i know some of you probably only meant the instagram things but i hope this is okay)

(lmk if you want to be added/taken off taglist)

906 notes · View notes

stylesberries · 4 years ago

Text

Vegan Cupcakes

Summary: You and Harry have been quarantined together and he needs space.

Genre(s): angst (happy ending)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning(s): angsty stuff, ~foul language~

You and Harry have been quarantined together for several months now and, despite the difficulty and the severity of the situation, you as a couple are having the time of your lives.

Harry was definitely disappointed and upset about not being able to go touring with Fine Line, but the second he heard the news he thought of you.

He has been donating a lot of money and supplies for those in need of it or unemployed while you took your university classes online.

Spending most of the spring together didn’t feel as suffocating for Harry as summer did. Your classes were over and you didn’t take a summer semester, so your time fully revolved around him. Which he liked.

In the beginning.

Until you clung on him like a koala for days and made him cuddle you all the time, which he enjoyed a lot until it became a routine. Harry couldn’t even tell you how he felt because it would hurt your feelings, so he didn’t say anything at all, keeping it all to himself.

“Baby?” You call for him from the kitchen.

Harry rolls his eyes as you, once again, interrupted his flow of thoughts. He gets up from the couch he was laying on peacefully before and walks towards the kitchen, where you are standing holding up a paper so big it covers your whole face.

“Yes?” Harry asks, trying his best not to come out too rough. You placed the paper on the kitchen island in front of you to look up at Harry. You didn’t pay close attention to his annoyance; you were too busy brainstorming what proportion of flour to sugar to take for your vegan cupcakes.

“Harry, do you think I should take 1:2? Like twice as much flour? Or do you want the cupcakes to be sweeter?” Harry watched you ramble, crossing his arms, feeling ~this~ close to bursting. “Or do you think the cupcakes shouldn’t be that sweet because they’ll have sweet icing on top?” You ket throwing question after question at your fuming boyfriend, still oblivious of his irritation.

“Or maybe we should make them both mildly sweet?” Shut up.

“They will be chocolate anyway, right?” Shut up.

“Would you prefer dark chocola-”

“Y/N, shut up already! Can you stop fucking rambling? My head is going to explode from your talking.” Harry explodes, not letting you finish your question, the excited smile leaving your face.

You felt your head being squeezed from sides, pressure increasing at your temples.

“What?” You ask, hoping that you misheard him, knowing deep down that you didn’t because the Harry you knew and loved would never say such a hurtful thing.

“I said shut up. My brain is buzzing from your talking. Do whatever you fucking want.” Harry said and walked out of the kitchen before you could say something to him.

Thinking that he probably isn’t in a good mood and certainly needs space from your rambling you stay back in the kitchen and go back to your recipe with a broken heart and wet eyes. Your hands shake as you brought the paper back up to your face, failing to read any of the words and measurements through a layer of tears that were collected in your eyes.

Even when you were fighting he had never said anything so mean to you before, especially after he found out that your whole life people have been discouraging you from talking, so you closed off and spoke up only when you were directly called out for not saying anything. It took Harry a couple of months to finally get you to open up to him and talk to him without feeling guilty for it. He used to love it when you rambled on and on about things you’re passionate about. At least that’s what you thought.

You spend the next hour making the batter for your cupcakes and baking them, which only took about fifteen minutes. You felt encouraged to go up to Harry when you smelled the chocolate cupcakes fresh out of the oven.

“I’ll put a couple on a plate.” You spoke to yourself placing the freshly baked cupcakes on Harry’s favorite flower plate. “Just like that.”

Talking to yourself was a way you brushed your nervousness and anxiety away. Harry would catch you talking to your reflection millions of times, just standing and secretly watching you sometimes with a wide smile plastered on his face.

You placed the plate on the tray you brought from your trip to Italy and poured Harry some black coffee, placing it next to the warm plate. You picked the tray up and walked out of the kitchen, making sure to watch your elbows at the doorway.

Making your way towards the living room, where you expected Harry to be, you spotted no grumpy boyfriends there.

“He’s probably in the studio.” You spoke to yourself, refusing to let Harry’s bad mood discourage you.

Harry would rarely hide from you in the studio when you’re fighting, usually he would face you and solve the issue before it grows and hurts you even more, so it was unusual for him to run off there.

You brushed the thought off and watched towards the studio door. As you walked closer you could hear Harry talking to someone, but knowing that there is no one home except you two, you understood that he’s talking on the phone with someone. You stood at the door, turning to the side to place the tray on the floor, freeing your hands to turn back to the door and knock, as you didn’t want to interrupt any important calls or interviews that Harry could have with your talking.

Before your knuckles hit the door, you heard Harry’s voice.

“Man, I mean she’s always next to me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t wait for her to go back to uni for me to get some air.” Harry whines. Your heart stops before going back to beating at a higher rate, full of anxiety.

“Yeah, right! It just feels as if she’s been dreaming of being touchy-feely with someone and now that I’m finally home she can’t get herself off of me.” Harry kept stabbing your heart and laughed at something the person on the phone said.

With every word, you felt more and more empty. You started walking away from the door, bending over to take the tray with yourself not to leave any traces behind.

How could he say something like that?

I thought he loved me.

You didn’t know what you were doing. Your legs moved on their own and you just followed along, tears leaking from your eyes’ inner corners, tracing a way down to your chin. The salty trail wasn’t getting a chance to dry as new tears followed the same path as the ones before did.

When your body reached the kitchen your shaking hands placed the tray on the counter, Harry’s coffee slightly spilling on the tray.

Pain.

Never before have you thought than sadness could physically hurt so much; it hurt like a bitch.

You placed the tray on the table for Harry to find later and walked out of the kitchen to go back to your bedroom to cry in your pillow while he keeps complaining about you to his friend.

Harry came to bed in a couple of hours closer to the evening after looking for you all over the house to apologize for his rough words. When he saw you laying on your side of the bed, your knees pushed up to your chest, the duvet hardly doing its job keeping you covered and warm, he felt guilt running through his veins.

Walking up to his side, pressing a knee on the mattress first, Harry scooted over to you and pulled the duvet to cover you up. He let his arm stay on the duvet wrapping around your fragile form. He moved his upper body closer to yours, his chest pressing against your duvet-covered back.

“Baby?” Harry spoke softly, cautious not to wake you up. When no answer followed he frowned and positioned his face into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses on your neck.

“I’m sorry about earlier, baby. I was very mean to you.” He spoke against your soft skin. “I shouldn’t have exploded like that. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Harry’s apologies kept following one after another and you stayed silent, keeping your act on. You would’ve believed every word of his if only you haven’t heard him say the things he said about you to someone else.

You kept your eyes closed. Harry’s apologies subsided as he slowly fell asleep cuddled into your back. You stayed up that night, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. You wished for the pain inside to leave with your tears but it stayed, eating you from inside, until sunrise when you fell asleep from the emotional exhaustion.

When you woke up, Harry was no longer lying next to you and you were thankful for it. You really hoped that he wouldn’t bring yesterday up, even though you knew he would because he never got to apologize to you awake.

Your stomach growled and you remember that you never got to have dinner the day before, falling asleep drowning in your own sadness.

You quickly got up to sneakily walk down to the kitchen, but you were disappointed to have smelled Harry’s signature chocolate waffles in the air. With your shoulders slumped in defeat you walked down the stairs towards your kitchen.

As you walked through the doorway of the kitchen you saw Harry placing the brown waffles onto serving plates and adding sliced strawberries on top. You stopped your heart from fluttering because you, unfortunately, knew more than you’d prefer to know about how your boyfriend actually feels about you.

Harry felt someone’s eyes on him and turned around to be greeted by your indifferent self. He felt his heart sink as he read the hurt from the day before engraved on the surface of your face. Harry kept fidgeting about the table trying to let you pass to sit in your place next to him and placed the plate of waffles in front of you.

“I made you your favorite, baby.” He spoke unsure of how you would react to any words that left his mouth.

You fought the desire to bite into the warm chocolate waffles that your belly was craving after crying all night long and being left hungry for so many hours and walked up to the counter to get yourself a couple of your ill-fated cupcakes.

You couldn’t see Harry’s head lowering as you dashed his hopes to make it better. Little did Harry know you weren’t upset about his outburst about the cupcakes yesterday, so a couple of waffles won’t help to glue together the ruins of your heart that he shattered.

As you bit into the cupcakes, you stood at the counter facing away from the table, Harry took no bites of his breakfast, staring at your back helplessly. Suddenly he felt small and didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, Y/N. I acted like a piece of shit. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” His lips moved as his eyes watched your back for any reaction coming from you, his voice coming out soft and weak.

You stood there, your eyes glossy and your lips curving down in a frown, as you fought back the tears. Harry doesn’t have a single idea of how much pain he’s caused you and how none of these stupid apologies will ever fix the cracks that he left in your heart. You looked over your shoulder at Harry’s similar-to-yours state and hesitated whether or not to open up to him. Harry looked into your eyes with his and held a breath, hoping that you would figure things out. Your eyes broke the eye contact by looking down and speaking up.

“It’s okay.” You spoke and abandoned your plate, walking out of the kitchen, Harry’s eyes observing your every movement.

For the next couple of days, you stayed away from Harry and things were pretty cold between you. Harry would come up to you every day trying to apologize but you wouldn’t let him finish any of those times, leaving the room right away. Hurt was eating you from inside and you didn’t care what he had to say. Harry chose to sleep in the guest bedroom not to make you uncomfortable and you thanked him for it.

As time went by, you cooled down and felt better yourself. Harry gave you all the space you needed and it helped your healing process. You still hurt but you could talk to him now at least. Things went back to normal in most ways except one: you would stop yourself from expressing any kind of affection to Harry and he wouldn’t say anything but it drove him insane. He didn’t know why you wouldn’t kiss or snuggle him like you used to. You also started talking less because of your fight and Harry noticed every single change in your behavior and beat himself up for it.

“Y/N.” Harry walked into the bedroom with an i-can’t-do-this-anymore face on. Your eyes had to abandon the indulging book you were reading as Harry closed the door behind him, which meant he was determined to finally face the difficulty of the situation. Noticing the mood in the room change to a serious one, you placed the book on the bedside table and crossed your legs under the duvet, focusing all of your attention on your restless boyfriend with arms crossed.

“Mhm?” You ask, waiting for him to spit out whatever he’s been putting aside for almost two weeks.

“I’m sorry for that fight, okay? I really am, sweetheart. You haven’t been the same since then and it scares me. I didn’t mean to go off at you like that. You didn’t deserve it at all. I was exhausted and felt shitty myself and took it out on you. It’s not an excuse to yell at you and be so mean, I understand and I’m sorry, beautiful. It was a mistake and it won’t happen again, I promise. Please forgive me, Y/N.” Harry spoke so desperately, his emotions all over the place. He started gesticulating, which you knew meant that he was anxious and frustrated.

“I’m not mad at that, Harry. I forgave you.” You spoke the truth; Harry looked at you with even more frustration behind his now-glossy eyes.

“But you don’t even touch me anymore! You don’t kiss me! You don’t even want to be near-” Harry lets all of his insecurities out, oblivious to the flow of your own that you prepare to pour on him. You couldn’t sit there and listen to him accuse you of being neglectful towards him so you broke in to speak yourself.

“You don’t want me to be around you anymore! You said that yourself! You-you said-” Your voice cracks as tears build up in the corners of your eyes. It became hard to talk. “-said I’m always next to you and you need some space from me always being there.”

The tears that were collecting in your eyes were streaming down your cheeks, Harry’s glance reflecting off of them. Harry couldn't understand what you were referring to but kept listening to you.

“And you didn’t even have the guts to tell me yourself. You whined about how annoying I am to your friend, embarrassing me. It’s supposed to be something kept between us two, not discussed with your friends.” Every word stabbed his heart in same places as it did yours.

Harry’s mind went straight to the call you were talking about. He felt his intestines turn into a knot inside of him, causing him to feel nauseous. He felt like an asshole. It was fair because he was one indeed.

I hurt her.

You don’t want to be around me anymore.

Does she really think that?

You need space from me.

My baby. My angel.

What a fucking piece of shit am I to hurt my precious love like this.

You saw right through Harry’s sudden self-hatred despite the two layers of salty tears between your eyes and his.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry’s apologies filled the room, as pain continued to fill his soul.

“I hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry. It was so wrong to share something so personal with anyone except you. I didn’t even know what I was saying. I can’t live without you.” Harry’s cries became louder and louder as his regret first doubled and then tripled in size. “Your hands, your lips, your beautiful eyes - I can’t live without those things on me constantly. I was such a fool to think that I needed space from you. You’re the love of my life! I love you so fucking much. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I-” Harry's voice was cut by him having to take deep breaths to keep himself together. He placed a hand over his chest breathing in deeply.

You ripped the blanket off of yourself watching Harry closely, getting ready to sprint to his inhaler in case he needs it. Harry saw your reaction to his heavy breathing and rose his hand to gesture that he’s okay. You let out a relieved sign and scooted closer to the end of the bed where Harry stood. When he caught up with his breathing he looked down at you, moving to get on his knees in front of the bed. Harry’s hands flew up to cup your cheeks softly, giving you time to stop him if you wanted to.

“I love you so much, baby. I can’t express how sorry I am to hurt you so much. I don’t need any space from you. I can’t function properly without you on me all the time, without you wrapped in my arms.” Harry spoke and tears kept running down his face. You watched his eyes jump from one side of your face to the other, trying to absorb every single line and curve of your face.

“Fuck, I’ve missed looking at you so fucking much,” Harry speaks up, his face frowning as new tears start flowing out of his eyes. The frown on Harry’s face became more prominent as he understood the severity of the pain he had caused you.

”It’s all my fault.” Harry cries, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, your arms wrapping around him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Harry kept apologizing the whole night and many days after, not letting you walk further than an arm length away from him. It took him a lot of effort to kick the insecurities that he birthed out of your head, but he kept proving himself to you over and over again.

He is an arrogant son of a bitch, but nonetheless he loves you more than himself.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurbs #harry styles angst

3K notes · View notes

alj4890 · 3 years ago

Note

I have an ask? What if Liam got Riley pregnant when they first met in New York? Would he still have to go through the social season? Would she have to raise a baby on her own would Liam find a way to help?

Ooooohhhh. Interesting. That would be quite the conundrum for them, wouldn't it? Especially since the social season starts the very next day after he visited her bar. Hmmm. Let's see what I can do with that time frame. I'm going on the assumption that the social season lasts at least three months with all the parties and traveling they do. Which will help out with the pregnancy part 😉 I think she would still go and take part in the social season since she wouldn’t know she was pregnant yet, but it would definitely alter how things end in book 1.

Masterlist

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @twinkleallnight @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305

Aftereffects

Three months earlier...

"Well?" Riley tilted her head to study Liam's profile. "What do you think?"

He cleared his throat. Lips parted, yet no words were formed. Liam had so many emotions hitting him all at once that a mere stranger had made his one wish come true.

His eyes went from the Statue of Liberty to the woman responsible for him being able to see it.

"I'm speechless." He lowered his head, lips curving in a shy smile. "I've never been so moved in my life than I am in this moment with you."

She smiled and turned her attention toward the iconic monument. "She's really something, isn't she?"

He turned toward Riley. His eyes traveled down her beautiful face softly lit by the dull light coming from the ferry they were on and the sliver of moonlight from above.

"Yes," he moved closer to her. "She really is."

Riley looked up at him. Her heart raced at the tender longing she saw in his eyes. He seemed so lonely. So in need of encouragement. So in need of affection.

Before he could step away, she snagged his lips in a tender kiss.

He froze for two seconds before crushing her to him. He allowed all the feelings he kept to himself pour out as a fuel to draw moans from her. The desperation he had been feeling since his brother abdicated didn't seem to exist around this woman.

His kisses traveled down her neck.

"Liam." She sighed when he returned to her mouth.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as he pressed her back against the railing.

"I don't want this night to end." He murmured.

It took a physical effort to stop.

"Neither do I." She cupped his cheek. "I know you leave tomorrow."

He nodded, already feeling the heavy yoke that was about to be thrust upon his shoulders.

"It's not quite tomorrow though." She kissed along his jaw as she whispered. "We can still enjoy the rest of tonight."

"Riley, I--you know I must choose--I couldn't do that and simply leave you to search for a bride." He felt guilty just thinking about it.

He would be the worst sort of cad possible if he were to spend the night in her arms.

He shouldn't have pursued her. The moment she had turned around and greeted him in the bar, he had thought of nothing else except getting to know more about her.

"I want you." She whispered. "If tonight is all we have, then let's make the most of it."

"You have no idea how much I want you." He kissed her once more, completely unable to resist her.

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

Two and a half months later...

Maxwell winced when he heard the noises coming from Riley's bathroom. Bracing himself, he timidly knocked upon the door.

"You okay in there, blossom?"

"What--" she heaved into the toilet, "do you think?"

"Maxwell!" Bertrand snapped. "What is the hold up. She should have been downstairs fifteen minutes ago."

His eyes widened at the sounds of vomiting.

"Is she ill?" He whispered.

Maxwell shrugged.

"She seemed fine last night." Bertrand thought over the past few days.

"She has been more tired than usual." Maxwell narrowed his eyes in concern. "And this isn't the first time I've heard her throwing up."

Bertrand's stern demeanor turned to worry. "You don't think she's..."

"Think she's what?" Maxwell asked.

"We have been pressuring her to wear the right clothes. I hope we haven't caused her to think she needs to lose weight." Bertrand explained.

Maxwell's eyes widened. He would never be able to forgive himself if he had made Riley think less of her natural beauty.

"Riley!" He anxiously knocked again when they heard nothing but silence. "Can we come in?"

"Sure." Her weak response was followed by her unlocking the door.

The brothers walked inside and saw her sitting in the floor.

Maxwell wet a rag and crouched beside her. He gently cleaned the sweat off her brow, his worry was now off the charts at the half hearted smile she gave him.

"Thanks." She lifted her eyes to Bertrand. "I'm sorry. I know I'm supposed to be outside for the--"

"Don't concern yourself with that." He tempered his usual gruff tone. "We must take care of you first."

Tears filled her eyes at how kind he was being. He wasn't berating her or telling her that House Beaumont needed her to win Liam. She wondered where this Bertrand had been hiding. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks as the brothers discussed ways to help her feel better.

He ordered Maxwell to pick her up and carry her to her bed.

As she settled back against her pillows, he called down to the kitchen and ordered a tray of soup, crackers, and tea to be brought up.

By the time he was finished, she was crying in full force.

"Riley!" Maxwell sat down on her bed and tried to hug her. "Please tell us what's wrong."

Bertrand reached for her hand. "You do know how lovely you are, right?"

Her eyes widened at that odd question.

"We think you shouldn't change at all." Maxwell added.

"Indeed. Many of the dresses in the boutique are," Bertrand's frown firmed as he tried to think of a way to keep her from thinking her body was at fault, "they aren't properly made. One can never go by sizes there."

"And you're size is perfect. Liam can't keep his eyes off you." Maxwell added. "In fact, you could probably add on some weight and be even more beautiful."

"Indeed." Bertrand latched on to that. "Size does not matter. It is what is on the inside that counts."

Riley lifted her head. "What are you talking about?"

"You're," Maxwell mimed vomiting.

"You must stop." Bertrand added. "You do not need to lose weight."

"I'm not doing it on purpose." She shook her head.

It touched her heart though that they wouldn't want her developing an eating disorder.

"I don't know what's caused this." She explained. "The weirdest smells and motions seem to set it off. Like yesterday, the smell of tomatoes had me running for a bathroom and I've always loved tomatoes."

"Could it possibly be your nerves?" Bertrand sat down at the foot of the bed. "The social season can take a toll on even the most seasoned noble."

"I don't think so." Riley mumbled. "It's like my energy has suddenly been depleted. Of course that could be because of the vomiting."

"So what caused it to start?" Maxwell asked.

"How long has it been going on?" Bertrand added.

"I don't know what set it off. It's been going on for a couple of weeks, but it is getting worse."

"Hmm." Bertrand and Maxwell shared a glance.

"Riley, I hope you don't think badly of me for asking," Bertrand struggled to inquire into something so personal. "But, have you, er...did you..."

She lifted her eyebrows in silent question.

"Before you joined us, were you involved with anyone?" He closed his eyes in embarrassment.

"Involved?"

"Any previous boyfriends or hookups before Liam?" Maxwell clarified.

"Oh!" Her cheeks heated with color. "No. I actually haven't been in a relationship for almost a year now." She lowered her eyes. "I had a bad relationship with a guy and decided to focus on myself once I got out of it."

Bertrand relaxed some. "A wise decision."

"So no one night stands?" Maxwell prodded.

"I've never been that type of..." Her eyes widened. She had been that type for one incredible night.

It was the driving force in making her decision to come to Cordonia in the first place.

"Oh no." She breathed. "The night I met you," her eyes held Maxwell's shocked gaze, "Liam and I sneaked away and..."

Bertrand shot up off the bed. "Wait here."

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

"We must be certain." Bertrand stressed. "The bloodwork must confirm what the test showed." His frown was fierce as he stood before the physician. "Discretion is a must in this situation."

"I'll have the results by this evening." The doctor replied. "And only I will run the lab work for Ms. Brooks."

"Here's my number." Riley scribbled it out quickly. "If I don't answer, please send a text and voicemail."

Once he was gone, she sagged back on the bed.

"What do we do now?" Maxwell asked.

"We have a ball to prepare for." Bertrand held up a silk dress. "We missed today's events, but we must make an appearance tonight. Everyone will begin to talk if we don't."

Riley nodded. Her mind though was whirling with the knowledge that she was pregnant.

How will Liam react? Will he be upset? Will he hate me for allowing it to happen? Will he think I'm trying to trap him?

How do I tell him?

Taking the dress, she forced herself to get ready.

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

"Have you seen Riley any today?"

Drake shook his head. "No. Why?"

"That's strange." Liam folded his arms.

He wondered if something was wrong. He hated that he couldn't spend every single moment with her. What if she had reached the end of her patience with this suitor situation?

He shook his head when Drake offered him a drink.

"You've got it bad." Drake teased.

"Got what?"

"Love."

"I do?"

"Are you saying you aren't in love with Brooks?" Drake smirked. "I've seen you with her. Ever since she showed up at the masquerade ball, you haven't looked at any of the other ladies trying to win you."

Liam couldn't help but smile over that. It was true. His night with Riley in New York had been the most magical of his life. Each moment he had spent with her since then all but reaffirmed that she was the only one for him.

He was thrilled at how the people of Cordonia had fallen for her. The press had only positive things to say about The American that had come to win his hand.

He could picture her smile when she approached him at the masquerade ball.

"I think we both know we have something special. One night together will never be enough for me." Riley whispered as he kissed her hand.

"I agree." He held her hand a moment longer than was deemed appropriate. "It isn't enough." His bright blue eyes shined against the silver demi mask. "Are you certain I'm worth going through these next few months? What if--"

"We end up with our happily ever after?" She finished for him.

He knew he had completely lost his heart in that moment. Our happily ever after. Her optimism that they could have that helped him through every step of this social season. She was the prize he knew he could claim once he passed the final hurdle to be king.

He spent his time in dull conversations daydreaming about their future. How beautiful she would be as a bride. How comforting she would be as they dealt with his father's illness and troubles of their small nation.

Then he dreamed of the family they would have. He hoped they had many children, each with her infectious smile and kindness.

He hoped she would say yes when he asked her to marry him. Even if they never had all these other dreams of the future, he would at least have her and her love.

Then all of this would be well worth it.

He did worry about his father's reaction to the time he spent in her company. Whenever Liam attempted to discuss his feelings about Riley, Constantine would point out another lady of the court. He wouldn't allow his son to go ahead and make a decision.

"You better head downstairs." Drake finished off his drink. "Can't have a ball around here without the prince."

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

"Any word yet?" Bertrand whispered.

Riley shook her head.

He softly cursed, causing her to burst into laughter.

"I'm sorry." She giggled when he shushed her. "But I would have bet a lot of money that you would never say that word."

He rolled his eyes. "Be that as it may, you should go mingle."

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

"Lady Riley?" Liam gently tapped her shoulder. "May I have this dance?"

She turned around with a start. "I'd love to."

He took her hand and placed it within the bend of his arm. "You look beautiful tonight."

She gently squeezed his arm. "Thank you." Her eyes lifted to his. "And you're as handsome as always."

"I don't know about that." He winked at her. "But as long as you think so, then I'm content."

He took her in his arms as a waltz began.

"Let's not spin as much as we normally do." She pleaded when he twirled her.

His brow furrowed. "Is something wrong?"

"No!" She said quickly. "Just, um, a little motion sickness from time to time."

"I see." He kept his gaze upon her face. "I missed you today."

"You did?"

"I always do whenever you're not around." He admitted with a sheepish grin.

"That's so--" she felt the vibration of her phone.

She stopped dancing, causing Liam to nearly trip

"Riley, is something--"

"Excuse me, I have to--that is--this is from--" she ducked out a nearby door before all her revelations came tumbling out.

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

She plopped down on the edge of a small couch and read the message from the doctor.

Hitting the link, she read the results of her bloodwork.

Her breaths came in and out in short gasps.

I'm really pregnant.

"Riley?"

All the color drained from her face as she looked up at Liam.

He shut the door to the ballroom and knelt before her.

"What is it?" He took her icy hand in his. "Is something wrong?"

She licked her dry lips and tried to tell him.

"Yes. No. I'm not sure."

He pressed a kiss to her hand. "Whatever it is, I will do all that I can to help you."

She blinked back tears. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything." He laced his fingers with hers.

"Do you," she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "do you love me?"

"I do." He admitted. "I had planned on telling you during the Coronation Ball."

"Really?" Her eyes narrowed. "I need you to be completely honest with me right now."

"I am." He lowered his gaze to their clasped hands. His thumb brushed against her skin. "I know I'm not supposed to say anything until then, but you are the one I will pick to marry," he looked up at her, "if you want to."

She bit down on her bottom lip. "Do you want children?"

"Yes, and not just for the continuation of the Rhys holding the crown." His smile gentled. "I want a family with you, selfishly for myself. I want all the holiday memories spent with them, watching them see the world with wonder, and seeing our traits passed on, especially yours." He chuckled. "Heaven help me if we have a daughter like you. I will be completely wrapped around her little finger."

Riley couldn't believe she was hearing all she needed to from him.

He really is Prince Charming. My Prince Charming.

"Do you remember the night we met?" She asked.

"How could I forget?"

She grimaced at the worry that still gnawed at her mind.

"My love," Liam sat down beside her. "Please tell me what troubles you."

"I had not been with anyone in a long time." She began. "I mean, no one for months when we spent the night together."

Liam merely listened, wondering where she was going with this.

"I didn't think in the heat of the moment. I should have. It was irresponsible, but I was so swept off my feet..." She took a deep breath. "And I found out today that I'm pregnant."

His fingers tightened around hers.

"I'm sorry. I know with the--"

"Pregnant?" Liam interrupted her. "You're certain?"

"The doctor just sent me the results of my blood work. That with the test I took and the physical exam confirms it." Her eyes widened when he suddenly stood up and took her into his arms.

The kiss he gave her weakened her knees. His arms held her as if she was the most delicate piece of porcelain.

"Marry me." He said between kisses.

"That kinda was the whole point of me coming here." She teased, once she saw how happy he was.

He smiled against her lips. "Is that a yes?"

"It is."

He stepped back and took hold of her hand. With quick strides he had them back in the ballroom.

Waving the conductor to stop the music, he held his hand up. "May I have your attention please!"

The court stilled as all eyes turned toward him.

Ignoring the hushed questions coming from his father, he settled his arm around Riley's waist.

"Lady Riley has made me the happiest man this evening. She has accepted my proposal of marriage and has told me that within a few months or so," he turned his adoring gaze upon her, "we will have an heir to the throne."

Constantine staggered back at this announcement. He had no idea the couple had become that close.

Regina called for champagne to be brought to all the guests as she embraced the young couple.

Liam held his glass up. He decided to force his parent to officially accept Riley in front of the entire court. He suspected that if he had not announced the fact they were expecting, that Constantine would find a way to break their engagement. He didn't know why he felt such unease with his father when it concerned Riley, but he wasn't going to leave anything to chance when it concerned her.

"Father? Would you like to give the toast?"

Constantine cleared his throat. Seeing no way around it, he stepped forward and lifted his glass. He hoped for Liam's sake that this woman would not be detrimental to his rule.

"To my son and the lady he has chosen. May they have all the happiness that I have found with my own queen and may their new family continue to serve Cordonia with grace and honor." He turned toward them. "To Liam and Riley!"

#choices the royal romance #liam x riley #choices the stories you play #choices fan fiction #trr liam

148 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 3 years ago

Text

fever - sokka x reader

this has been sitting in my drafts half finished for 3 weeks so i thot it was prime time i actually finished it

this is kinda based off the song w dua lipa and angele so you can listen to that if you want

summary: sokka's convinced there's a mystery illness keeping you from focusing, but somehow he's completely oblivious that the only 'sick' you are is lovesick, and he's the reason you can't focus.

a/n: i have never written a sickfic. but this is like. a fake sick fic. its an idiots in love fic. i mean this is coming from mr "is he taller than me? is he better looking?" himself so. it makes sense. as usual, this is not proofread bc im a lazy mf

also im sorry for being vague with the calc but i was NOT about to do math during summer who do you think i am? ??

wc: 1.7k

warning(s): mentions of being sick and 🤢calculus 🤮 but otherwise tooth rotting fluff

How could the smartest man you knew be so, so incredibly stupid?

You thought that you were being obvious, so obviously that you were sure he knew. It was embarrassing how obvious you were.

You had met Sokka in your calculus class at the start of the new semester after you ended up sitting next to each other, and it wasn’t a stretch to say that you were immediately smitten. With eyes like the ocean and a face that had to have been crafted by the gods, you were almost too distracted to respond when he asked you for a pencil. But when he winked at you after giving his thanks, it only solidified what you had already suspected: you had known this man for all of five minutes, and you already had a crush on him.

Little did you know, it was going to turn into the most infuriating crush you had ever experienced.

You and Sokka became fast friends even though calculus was the only class you had together. Unfortunately, it was also something that you completely sucked at. Bad news, it was required for your major. Good news, Sokka was some sort of genius and offered to tutor you — Wednesdays in the library turned into a weekly occasion, and served as an opening for your calculus skills, your feelings for Sokka, and your exasperation to all grow stronger.

You normally weren’t someone to beat around the bush. If you started to like someone, you told them and dealt with whatever happened after, but something about Sokka just kept you from spilling your feelings outright. You knew that if he didn’t feel the same way, your relationship likely wouldn’t change, but there was still that tiny voice that said it’s better to stay like this in case things do go wrong — and this was the first time you listened to that voice. You simply valued your friendship too much.

But that didn’t mean you were going to be completely quiet about it — you hoped that if you did enough, he would be able to realize you liked him and do the whole process for you. A bit of a dim hope, but crushes make people do stupid things.

Things like bringing an extra coffee to every session, laughing at all his jokes (even the bad ones), sitting a little closer to him than usual, not dropping out of this wretched class so you could spend time together (it might’ve been required, but you still counted it). He didn’t make a point to object to anything, so you knew you weren’t making him uncomfortable — but you had concluded after nearly a whole semester of working and studying together that he was the most oblivious person in all of Ba Sing Se. He could teach you all kinds of formulas, but had no idea that you liked him. Grand.

Today was arguably the most important session out of any of them, seeing as your next class was the final, so it was only fitting that Sokka unknowingly made himself more interesting than any material you could’ve been working with. His arms were going to be the death of both you and your calc grade. You swore that the heat rushing to your cheeks was actually emanating off of you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sokka grinned as he saw you and raised a hand in greeting, a sentiment you would’ve returned had it not been for the coffee cups in your hands. You settled for mirroring his grin and settled down in the seat across from him. You slid his coffee cup over, set your own down, then shrugged your bag off all before taking a seat.

“You ready to study ‘till your eyes bleed?” he asked, prompting a nervous laugh from you.

“You jest, but my eyes might actually start bleeding depending on how long we go,” you sighed. “There’s a reason I got an extra shot of espresso today.”

“Come on — by now you should know that you have nothing to worry about! I am the best teacher there is, and you got me all to yourself.”

Your eyes widened momentarily and you coughed, purposefully averting your gaze to give yourself some time to recover. Okay, he was going to make it really hard to focus today. “Let’s just get into it.”

He nodded and flipped open his notebook, beginning to talk as he rifled through his bag for a few extra things. “Okay, we’re just gonna start with going over the basics, then we’ll work our way up. There’s a couple practice problems on that page, so you can go ahead and answer those as a warmup.

You slid the notebook over in front of you and after approximately five seconds of looking at the first problem, found yourself studying Sokka rather than the material. Who could blame you? In the battle of cute tutor boy versus calculus, he was going to win every time.

He turned around and you immediately averted your eyes once again, trying to appear extremely involved, but you found that your mind was empty on anything to do with math. “Hey, uh— how do you do this first one? I’m totally blanking here.”

“We use limits in everything — this is actually something you’re really good at!” He studied you intensely and frowned. “Are you okay? Like, you’re not sick or anything, are you? You seem kinda out of it.”

You choked out a laugh and shook your head. “No, no — I’m fine. I guess I’m just a little tired.” As if to demonstrate your lie, you took a sip from your coffee and cringed internally. Love had turned you into an idiot.

He seemed to buy it as he nodded and picked up the pencil, scribbling a couple of notes as he explained the first problem to you. “Does that make sense?” You nodded and he handed the pencil back to you. “Okay — the other ones follow the same kind of process. It should be easy enough.”

You managed to get a little further in the second problem, but your lovestruck mind would not stop focusing back on Sokka every time you tried to do, well, anything. Curse him and his perfect arms, and eyes, and hairstyle, and everything.

You shook your head and set the pencil down once more, letting loose a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Yes, you did. “I just can’t focus at all.” Because of you. You picked up your cup once more and took a sip, hoping it would do something to get you back into the math state of mind.

Sokka frowned once more as he put the back of his hand against your forehead. “God, you’re hot.” You nearly choked on your coffee as your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets — he had to know what he was doing by now — how could he not? “Like, you’re completely burning up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I swear— I just…” you set your cup down on the table and heaved a sigh that was a touch more exasperated than necessary. “Are you telling me you seriously haven’t noticed? Like, not a single thing this whole year?”

“I’ve noticed a lot of things this year,” he chuckled. “It’s kind of our whole job, so you’re gonna have to be a lot more specific.”

You finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Sokka, I’m not— I’m not sick! Haven’t you noticed that I’m only ever flustered, or running into things, or forgetting info, or— or just a complete idiot when I’m around you? I like you, like, a lot, and I have for an embarrassingly long time! The reason I can’t focus is because I am hopelessly attracted to you in every single way.”

His brows creased for a moment and you clamped your mouth shut, worried that you had just ruined everything. It was only after a pause that felt like a century that he finally responded, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Well, why didn’t you just say something?”

You stared at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in pure surprise before the annoyance set in. You set your jaw as your brows furrowed and you hit him lightly on the side of his arm with the back of your palm. “You can’t be serious! You— you’ve gotta be messing with me by now. I really can’t believe that you can be that smart but this oblivious!”

He finally let the grin play across his lips in full force and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I don’t know how you don’t expect me to mess with you when you scrunch up your face all cute like that every time you get mad. Besides, I started liking you after that fifth class; I offered to help you out so I could spend more time with you! I didn’t realize you felt the same way. I kinda just enjoyed the free coffee and getting to look at you all the time.”

“I can’t believe you!” you cried as you hit his other arm. “You’re telling me that I had to deal with this- this mental turmoil about whether you liked me back, while you were just enjoying the free eye candy and coffee the whole time?”

“You have nothing to worry about! I enjoyed the company far more than the coffee,” he joked, a certain twinkle in his eye. “But, you are probably out a couple twenties after all of that. So, what do you say about this Saturday, the cafe by the shoe store? My treat.”

“Damn right it’s your treat,” you shot back, though you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your face. “You owe me a lot — you have to make up for those coffees and all the emotional distress you caused.”

“Oh, I think I’ll have plenty of time to make up for lost time. After all, we do have a lot of coffee dates to get through.” And when he winked at you just like that first day, you remembered just how impossible it was to be angry at Sokka. “But first, we kinda have to get through this study date. The final’s still happening tomorrow.”

You responded with a raised brow. “This is a study date?”

Sokka shrugged and grinned. “They’ve all been study dates. You just didn’t know it.”

idiots in love idiots in love idiots In LOVe

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla: @marianne1806

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka fic #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender fic #avatar x reader #reader insert #sadie writes

273 notes · View notes

batsandbugs · 4 years ago

Text

A Kiss With a Fist

AN: Hey everyone another fic coming at you! This is for the Maribat Drabble Exchange hosted by @eat0crow I’m so excited to be participating! My fic was for @pixiebuggiewrites who wanted a Daminette soulmate fic. Sorry I couldn’t squeeze anybody else in here it was already getting pretty long! I hope you all enjoy! You can also read it here on ao3! (Pictures are NOT mine)

Damian stormed away from the hotel, aggressively zipping his coat. He didn’t care where he was going, only that it was away from here.

He didn’t want to be in Paris. He didn’t want to watch out for incompetent amateurs. He didn’t want to ‘control your anger, Damian’. He wanted to be sent home.

The calm night taunted him, the Parisian streets were too bight and too clean, resembling nothing like his dark city. He missed patrolling, he missed his animals, hell, a part of him (a small, barely negligible part he would never admit to) even missed his siblings. But no, he was stuck here, under his father’s orders until the situation in Paris drew to a conclusion.

Considering it took five years for outside help to be even called in, he had no clue how long the mission would last. He still hadn’t met the so-called-heroes of Paris, but the research he conducted showed they were ill-trained, undisciplined, and relying on so much luck it was a fucking miracle their city wasn’t a smoking ruin by now.

He sighed, sticking his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He regretted not grabbing his gloves in his storm out. He’d been so irritated at his father that even though the man was on the other side of a screen, half-way across an ocean, Damian needed to physically leave to calm his anger. It left him little time to grab essentials for a chilly winter night like a hat, or gloves. He considered himself lucky for remembering to grab a coat at all.

He wandered for a solid hour, the cold sinking into his bones chilling the raging inferno that always seemed to bubble inside him. By the time he no longer wanted to scream at anyone, he was sufficiently lost, considering he hadn’t taken his phone with him either.

Coming to rest on a bridge he took a seat on a small bench. He puffed a warm breath of air into his chilly hands rubbing them together. Nighttime in Paris was so… different compared to Gotham. While big cities never truly slept, this was positively peaceful in comparison to what he was used to. He hadn’t even heard a single sound of ruckus or distress, which seemed strange considering the city was currently besieged by a magical butterfly terrorist.

Damian inwardly scoffed. Butterfly terrorist. True, being a Gothamite meant no room to judge, but he found it hard to think of a stranger string of words.

He sighed; Damian didn’t even know what his father wanted him to do here. Sure, he knew French and was a proficient fighter, but what could that even lend to the situation? They needed a detective, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Drake would have been the better option in that department. Unfortunately, he was off-world. Grayson was dealing with a problem in Hong Kong with Cass. Brown was paired with the rest of the Sirens taking care of Gotham along with Batman, and Todd…

Well, even he recognized what an awful choice Todd would be against a villain who literally used strong negative emotions as his weapon of choice. Damian had a temper; Todd was a ticking-time-bomb.

A high-pitched screech cut through the night air, before being noticeably muffled. Damian was on his feet and running before he even mentally acknowledged it. The thud of his boots on the cobblestone bridge sent small shocks through his legs. Another large clatter directed him off to a side street a couple of feet away. Three men had cornered a tiny slip of a woman, who held her purse like a weapon.

Damian saw red. “Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” he yelled in French. There was one benefit to being in a foreign city, Damian did not have to play the part of a clueless rich kid who couldn’t hold his own in a fight.

The brutes turned to him and grinned mean smiles. One guy stepped forward. “Come on man, we’re just having a little fun. You can join if you-” Damian cut off the disgusting words with a jab to the nose. Then he spun around, sweeping the second guy’s feet from underneath him, hitting him with a punch to the face to knock him out cold. The first guy hadn’t lost consciousness, but he was doubled over which allowed Damian to knee him in the stomach. Another punch to the face and he was out cold too.

He turned to finish off the last guy, only to see the woman roundhouse kicking him to the head. The burly man fell with a thud. The alley turned eerily silent, the only sounds coming from the sharp breaths of both Damian and the girl. His pulse fluttered fast; the heat of the battle warmed his chilled limbs.

A red purse laid on the ground near his feet. Picking it up he walked over to the small woman, no teen she looked about his age, who was still sharply breathing.

“Here, this is-” a blur is all he saw before a sharp pain spread across his nose.

Did she-

Did she just punch him in the face?

The shock of it sent him sprawling onto the ground, and he blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. Damian cradled his throbbing nose, anger bubbled once more under his skin before-

*Zing*

The connection hit him like a train. A deep well of rightness spreading through him. He looked up through bleary eyes to find the woman staring at him in similar shock.

“You’re my soulmate,” they sputtered at each other.

Damian inwardly groaned. The League made initiates kill their soulmate should they ever find them to prove their loyalty. He grew up never wanting to find his soulmate, knowing they would serve as nothing but a distraction and weakness. Even when he joined his father, the idea seemed an unneeded liability. Sure, his brothers found their soulmates within the superhero community, but what were the chances he would too?

A small whimper escaped the mouth of the guy lying unconscious on the ground, knocked out by the woman the universe thought would be the perfect match for him. Damian tilted his head. She might not be a superhero, but maybe the universe knew him better than he first imagined.

“OhmygoshIamsosorry!” the flood of words spilled from his soulmate’s mouth, her face a deep shade of red. “I was just-”

“Acting on instinct and adrenaline? Appropriate, considering the threat you just faced,” he said without anger. “Your right hook is sufficiently adequate.”

“Um… thanks? Are you alright though?” She extended a hand to help him off the ground. He took it, his larger hand enveloped hers, but she showed a surprising amount of strength as she pulled him up. The contact sent another *zing* through his body, smaller and more subdued though. Damian found himself reluctant to let go.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He suffered worse in training before. With the initial pain dissipated, all that was left was a dull throbbing that would be gone by morning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said with a bright smile. He took the chance to finally observe his soulmate. She was small, couldn’t be more than 5’2, which meant at 6’1 he towered over her. She was of mixed descent, with dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and bright blue eyes. Her arms and legs were toned with muscle, and she held herself with grace and confidence. She wore a face of tasteful makeup and was clothed in a short red dress and a pair of strappy heels with no jacket in sight. He had no clue how she wasn’t freezing to death.

Her smile dimmed a bit. “Actually, no, I’ve had better days. Today has kinda been a perfect disaster; first I’m late for school, then I forgot my homework, and my class bully decided it was a pick-on-Marinette day. There’s a three-hour Akuma fight, involving mind-control, which is always a total drag. I finally get home to find my parents worried sick about me because I hadn’t answered my phone which got destroyed at the beginning of the fight. I go to my class’s senior Valentine’s day dance hoping to finally confess to the guy I’ve had a crush on for years, only to get humiliated because he already has a girlfriend, and everyone else in my class knew and decided not to tell me. When I get away not to cause a scene, not only do I forget my jacket, but I also get attacked by three bumbling idiots with more mouths than brains.” She chuckled, hollow and verging on manic.

Damian stood there, unsure how to take all of that. He filed away the fact she was being bullied, and that she commonly dealt with Akuma attacks. Both equally important, as far as he was concerned.

“Now, here I am, standing in front of my gorgeous soulmate I punched in the face, after beating up said earlier idiots, rambling my mouth off because I don’t know the meaning of the word chill. Yep! I’ve certainly had better days. Ohmygoshimatotalmesskillmenow.” She muttered the last part into her hands, but Damian understood her all the same.

He would come back to the gorgeous thing later.

“…Do you want my jacket? You look cold.” It wasn’t the smoothest thing he could have said, nor the most appropriate considering the mess of a day she’d had. However, the manners Alfred drilled into his brain came knocking and if he was cold with a turtle-neck long-sleeved shirt and a jacket, she must be freezing in all that… nothingness. He averted his eyes from her exposed skin, looking at her face instead.

His soulmate looked at him for a long moment, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“You know what, yeah, a jacket would be nice,” she said in a tired voice. Damian shed his coat quickly, not minding the sharp sting of cold that hit him. He helped his soulmate into the sleeves and took an odd little pleasure in seeing how tiny she looked in the folds of his jacket.

“I’m Marinette, by the way, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She wrapped the jacket closer cuddling into the heat. “Sorry for kinda freaking out on you there.”

“The kind of day you’ve had has surely broken lesser mortals. Any coping method is your due. I’m Damian, Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you Marinette.” He smiles, although the gesture feels odd, trying to appear non-threatening. While his soulmate (and maybe he was coming around to this faster than he thought possible) was obviously skilled at dealing with a variety of stressors, he didn’t want to add any more and risk her being akumatized.

“You as well Damian.” She shivered despite the added protection of his coat, as a gust of wind swept through the alleyway. “As much fun as this conversation has been, it might be best for us to get out of the cold.”

“Indeed. What will we do with these inconveniences?” he asked, poking one of the guys with the tip of his boot.

She sighed, picking her purse from the ground where he’d dropped it. “We’ll call the police to come pick them up. They’ll be cold, but fine.”

Damian scowled, “It’s better than they deserve.” He sneered at the guy who offered for Damian to join them. Join them in assaulting this tiny, bright girl, who’d been through enough. His soulmate. The bubbling rage began anew, and he wished he’d done more than just knock them unconscious, they deserved far worse for thinking, daring, to touch-

A small hand rested on his arm, dragging him out of his violent thoughts. “I’m fine Damian. Even if you hadn’t arrived, I would have been fine. I can hold my own in a fight. This is Paris after all.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “Fine. We’ll leave them to their fates.” And if their fates happened to involve complete ruination of their online lives, credit scores, and secure information? Well, that was hardly his fault, now was it?

“There’s a good café opened late around the corner. Would you- would you like to go there?” Marinette asked.

Damian smiled at the tentative offer. “I would very much enjoy that, yes. I’ve been out for longer than I should, coffee would be great right about now.” She giggled and he felt his stomach flutter. Funny, giggling always annoyed him, but that bright clear sound... he could grow used to that.

Walking out of the dark alley, listening to Marinette talk to the police on her phone, Damian sighed. The streets no longer felt too clean, or the lights too bright. Yes, he was colder, and yes this was a complication, but for some reason, Damian could not bring himself to care.

Maybe Paris wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#fanfiction #damian x marinette #daminette #damianette #maribat writing exchange #maribat #marinette dupain Cheng x Damian wayne #maridami #damimari #marinette x damian

415 notes · View notes

let-me-luve-you · 4 years ago

Text

Cancer Battle

Tom Holland x Sister (with the whole Holland clan)

Summary: The reader is diagnosed with cancer, but decides to keep it from her brothers.

Warnings: angst, cancer treatment, cancer diagnosis, brothers being rude, somewhat of a fluff ending

A/N: I did research on this. I hope I did the correct research. So I apologize if I’m wrong.

MASTERLIST

This has been the toughest two months of your life. Right when you were due to go over to America with your brothers to visit Tom, you noticed swelling in your neck. So did your mum. She set you up a doctors appointment, and two days later, you found out you had Hodgkin Lymphoma.

After talking with your doctor, you found you were in the early stages. It was still treatable and your chances of beating the cancer were very high. That helped you relax a little, but you were still in shock at hearing the words, “you have cancer.”

You wanted to start treatment right away so you told your brothers to go without you. They weren’t happy with you since you wouldn’t give them the real reason as to why you were staying behind. Every Wednesday morning for the next month, you would go with your mum or dad to the doctors office to do your antibody therapy treatment. You really didn’t want to do chemo or radiation unless it got worse, so you decided this was the next best option.

After four weeks of treatment, all of your brothers came home. Tom was disappointed you didn’t come see him, but he knew you probably had a good reason. He decided to come over to your parents house to hangout with you today. Except today wasn’t a good day. You were sick due to the side effects of the treatment. To those who didn’t know about your treatment, they would just think you had the flu. So when you walked back into your room from the bathroom, you groaned when you saw Tom sitting on the end of your bed.

“Good to see you too, Y/N.” Tom said with an eye roll.

“Hi Tom. Sorry. You might want to leave, I’m sick.” You said trying to keep your distance but you were wanting to lie down so bad.

“Mum told me. Can I get you anything?” He asked sweetly.

“I’m okay for now. Dad went to the store this morning.” You replied and motioned with your finger for him to move. He understood and moved toward your door as you went to lie down. You sighed, content when your body hit the mattress.

“I’m going to go downstairs. Text me if you need anything.” You smiled at him. “Get better soon.”

The next few days, you started feeling better. This is how it was every week. Stuck in bed on Thursday and Friday. Moving around more on Saturday and fully back to your normal self on Sunday. Then you would repeat the process again.

This Wednesday though, you weren’t feeling good. It felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. You had a fever and you could tell you had lost at least twenty pounds since your diagnosis. You got up earlier than normal to talk to your mum. When you walked into the living room, you found all four brothers.

“Hey Y/N. You okay?” Sam asked.

Ignoring his question, you looked around the room. “Where’s mum and dad?”

“Dad has a meeting at ten and mum ran to the store really quick. Said she would be back soon.” Paddy said not looking up from his phone. You nodded and turned to go back to your room to lay down until you had to go to your appointment.

“It’s a good thing you're up though. I have a press tour coming up and we are going to Bali. The three of them are going and I wanted to see if you wanted to come. You didn’t get to go last time so I thought you would enjoy it.” Tom said.

“I would but uh..” You looked around trying to think of an excuse as to why you can’t go. “I’m still getting over this sickness. Wouldn’t be good for me to go.”

“Well good thing it isn’t until next month then.” Harry said with a laugh before he turned serious. “Why are you always bailing on us? You missed the last Bali trip. You skipped last minute to go to America. Now you’re trying to get out of going to Bali again. What’s up with that?”

“I just have a lot going on. It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t.” You said.

“Harry has a point though Y/N. It’s like you don’t like us or something. You never go out with us when we are in town either and you won’t let us post photos of you.” Paddy said.

You stood shocked. You didn’t know how to respond, but it didn’t matter since it didn’t seem that your brothers were done.

“Can you tell us if we did something to you so we can fix it?” Tom said trying to be the nice brother like always.

“Come on mate. We didn’t do anything and she knows it. She just hates us.” Harry said with a snarl.

“Must be embarrassed by us. I don’t know why. People love us.” Paddy said. Sam agreed with Paddy and Harry. Tom just didn’t know what to do so he just stayed quiet. He wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, but he did feel rejected by you lately.

“I love you guys and I would never be embarrassed of you. I just have a lot going on.” You said. You were getting worked up and it was making it harder to breathe. You turned and started to leave the room. “Tell mum to come to my room when she gets home.” You started to walk up the stairs and ignored the hateful comments your brothers were whispering about you.

An hour later. Your mum came into the room and saw you laying there asleep. She went to push your hair out of your face and felt how hot you were. She immediately started to panic and tried to wake you up. Thankfully you opened your eyes halfway and saw your mum.

“Mum, somethings not right. I don’t feel good.” You whispered.

“Get up honey. We are going to the doctor.” Nikki said in a rush. She went to help you stand when you fell on the ground. Nikki was worried because you couldn’t hold yourself up. “DOM!” She yelled. “DOM HURRY UP! COME HERE!”

Tom thought he heard his mum call for him and he heard the worry in her voice so he sprinted to where he heard her trying to talk to Y/N. He was shocked when he saw you on the floor.

“Tom I need your help. We have to get her to the hospital now. Help me get her to the car.” Nikki said. Tom stayed staring at your almost lifeless body “TOM!” Nikki snapped to get his attention. Tom immediately went into protective brother mode and ran to you and easily picked you up bridal style and carried you down to Nikki’s car. He laid you in the backseat and then he joined you by putting your head into his lap. Nikki ran to the driver's seat and rushed to the hospital.

“Mum, what’s wrong with her?” He asked.

“I’m not sure.” Nikki answered honestly. If it hadn't been for the swollen glands, Nikki would have thought you were healthy as a horse. Now with the treatments, it always pained her to see her only daughter struggling with the illness. Once they got to the emergency room, Nikki started telling the ER doctor everything. Tom paled when he heard the word cancer. He looked up at his mum to see if what she said was true. When the doctors took you in the back to run test, Nikki finally turned to her oldest and saw him shaking.

“Cancer?” He whispered. If Nikki hadn’t been standing so close, she wouldn’t have heard him. She gently wrapped an arm around Tom and guided him to sit in a chair. Tom stayed latched to his mum as he cried for his little sister. “Wha- how- when? When did she find out?” Tom asked many minutes later once he stopped crying.

“Before the America trip.” Nikki said. “She’s been doing treatments once a week since. The treatments make her sick. That’s why you found her like she was last Thursday.”

“I had no idea.” Tom said more to himself. “That’s why she didn’t want to go to Bali.”

“Yeah. She wants to stay home until the cancer’s gone. She has a high survival rate, Tom. She didn’t want any of you to worry. That’s why she didn’t tell you.”

As Tom went to say something a doctor interrupted. “Mrs. Holland, Y/N is in a room now. You can go sit with her while we wait for the results. Since Dr. Hammon is the one treating her, she will be here to overlook her during her stay.” Nikki nodded and grabbed Tom’s hand. They followed the doctor to Y/n's room where she looked so tiny on her bed. She had an IV in and was sleeping soundly.

“We gave her some medicine to bring her fever down. She should wake up soon.”

“Thank you doctor.” Nikki said as he walked away. She turned to Tom, “I’m going to go call your father. Sit with her please.”

“Of course.” Tom said before grabbing your hand and sitting in the chair next to your bed. Tom grabbed his phone with his other hand. He quickly added Harry, Sam, and Paddy to a group text.

T: Hospital. Room 135. Waiting on the results for Y/N. We need to talk.

H: WTF?! Is she okay? Is that where you went. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

T: Yeah. Had to help mum. Just hurry. She should have everyone here for her.

S: Called into work and got the day off. Will be there soon.

P: Harry and I are on our way too. Be there shortly.

By the time all the brothers arrived, Dom was walking into the room as well. Nikki had already spoken with Dr. Hammon and got the news of why Y/N reacted that way. Nikki decided now was the time to tell everyone the severity of it.

“Okay guys. Y/N wanted to keep this a secret, but I no longer can. She has Hodgkin Lymphoma. Her and I noticed swelling in her neck before she was going to the states so I took her to the doctor. She was diagnosed a couple days later. That’s why she didn’t go with you boys on the trip. She’s been undergoing treatment every week to help kill the cancer.” Nikki said looking at all of her sons. “I just talked with the doctor. The bad news is she doesn’t think the antibody therapy is working. She thinks it would be best to try chemotherapy next so the cancer doesn’t spread. The good news is, the cancer hasn’t spread.”

Dom visibly relaxed at hearing that news. He was thankful you were as okay as you could be. “Did she say why she reacted this way. Why did she almost pass out?” Dom asked.

“She said her body was working in overdrive to kill the cancer cells. Her fever got too high. Now that her fever is down, she’ll be back to her old self.”

“Old self?” Tom scoffed. “Mum she’s been sick more times than she’s been feeling okay. There’s no old self in that.”

“This is her new normal for a bit. Until she defeats the cancer, this is her old self.” Nikki responded.

You groaned and tried to open your eyes. Nikki and Dom rushed to one side as Tom rushed to your other. Tom ran his hand over your head. You turned and slowly opened your eyes and met Tom’s brown ones.

“What happened? Where am I?” You asked, confused.

“Your fever got too high. Me and mum rushed you here. You’re okay now.” Tom said. You turned to see your mum next to you with your dad.

“They know sweety.” She said. You closed your eyes for a second and turned to look at Tom again.

“I’m sorry for keeping this from you.” You said.

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re okay now. And I’ll be here every step of the way to help you fight.” He kissed your forehead. The rest of your brothers came up to you.

“I’m sorry Y/N/N for saying you hated us.” Harry said.

“I’m sorry too.” Sam said.

“I’m sorry as well.” Paddy said.

“It’s okay you guys. I’m sorry for not telling you. Just didn’t want you to worry. You guys have a lot going on in your life. Didn’t need to add this to the list of things you were stressing over.”

“We will always worry about you, healthy or not. You’re my baby sister. I never want you to think you have to go through something like this alone.” Tom said.

“I’ll sit with you at treatments.” Harry said.

“I’ll hangout with you when you don’t feel well at home.” Paddy said.

“I’ll make all of your favorites and I’ll make you soup.” Sam said.

You smiled at your brothers and thanked them. You were glad you had such an amazing support group to back you in this fight.

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #brother!tom holland #brother!tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland sister #tom holland x sister #tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland x holland!reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #holland!sister #holland!reader #tom holland rpf #y/n holland #tom holland angst #tom holland one shot #tom holland au

693 notes · View notes