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harstyle · 11 months ago

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pretty

Summary: Your good friend Harry Styles might just be the hottest, most gentleman-liest guy you‘ve ever laid eyes on, so it really is a shame that you‘re not his type. featuring lotsss of pining, insecurities on both sides and a hefty crying sesh (it‘s all a bit pathetic and cheesy really😭)

Pairing: uni-student!y/n + uni-student!harry

Word Count: 6.2k

—

“You’re beautiful, y’know that?”

He was impossibly close, nose mere inches away from hers, and held this expression that could easily make her cry if only she looked at it long enough. Y/N couldn’t handle the pressure of the moment, his intense eyes on hers. It was something out of a romance movie.

And she was left so speechless that all she could say to him was: “uh, t-thanks. Thanks. You too.” It wasn‘t like she disagreed with him, but the sheer intensity, the closeness with which he delivered his compliment made her weak at the knees.

He smiled at her like he’d known she would cower away and brushed some stray hairs away from her eyes. “James doesn’t deserve you. You know that, right?”

In full transparency, Y/N had forgotten all about James. She’d forgotten the reason for her tears the moment Harry had shown up at her flat to give her that long hug she’d been needing.

The only reason James had stumbled into her life at all was Harry anyway. Call it a distraction, a means to numb the jealousy she felt whenever she saw Harry out with another girl.

“I get it, though. I should’ve known he’d be that way, people warned me before going out with him. That he only takes out cheerleaders. Should’ve known he did it for a laugh.”

Harry was similar to James in that regard— he had a type and everyone knew it. Y/N didn’t fall under his category of ‘girls to date’. She often wondered why she always went for guys who would never even look in her direction— a bit of self hatred, maybe. A will to punish herself.

“Hey, stop that. You’re beautiful. Don’t find excuses for his behavior.”

“I’m not, I just… I should’ve seen it coming, is all.”

“No, what we’re not going to do is blame ourselves for other people’s mistakes. James fucked up. He did. And that’s it. You move on, you come back stronger and show him he didn’t leave even a tiny scratch.”

“You’re right. Of course.”

He smiled, “do you feel better?”

“A bit,” Y/N nodded with a sturdy exhale, “thanks for being there for me always. I really appreciate it.”

“What are best friend for, ey?”

It never felt less unnerving to hear those words coming out of his mouth. And really, she knew that realistically they were nothing more, but sometimes, especially late at night when no one was around and all of her uni stress had been shoved into a closet for the day, Y/N let herself believe it was real. That he liked her back. She needed to get a grip and open her eyes to the cold harsh truth; that a friend was all she would ever be in his eyes.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and averted her eyes towards her interlinked fingers. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

Y/N had long mastered the art of feigning a smile, so it came easily for her to flash her teeth at Harry in this moment.

“Course. Let’s make some dinner, I’m hungry.”

—

“Hey, it’s Y/N right?”

Y/N had seen this girl around before. She remembered because every time she would pass by on campus, Y/N had to admire her beauty; how her makeup always seemed effortless and her clothes complimented her perfect figure in just the right way, how her hair was always in a wave that Y/N could never perfectly recreate and her walk never droopy or tired, perfected by an angelic touch.

Y/N didn’t know this girl, but she’d always wanted to be like her.

“Yeah, hi.” Despite the inherent intimidation, Y/N smiled at her, “can I help you?”

Y/N felt ugly standing in front of her. She’d had to rush out of bed this morning for her analysis class, forgotten mascara and her staple lip balm. She looked monstrously unwell.

“My name’s Iris, I was wondering… god, this is a bit embarrassing, but you’re good friends with Harry, right?”

Y/N saw where this was going off of the jump. It happened way too often for her not to.

And her heart broke just a little more then, because so far, it’d been random girls she’d known stood no chance with Harry. But Iris was just perfectly crafted for him, cookie cutter pretty and impressively confident. She had everything Y/N was still hastily working on.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I was wondering if you could give him my number? I saw him at the party last night and we chatted for a bit, but I forgot to write it down for him.”

Y/N had been at that party too, she just hadn’t seen that. Harry had barely even left her side. Must’ve been when she‘d gone to the bathroom.

“Oh, sure.”

“Great! Thank you so much.”

Iris handed her a little post it with her digits written along with a lovely note about having had a fun time.

Y/N walked to her 8am analysis class with a crucial feeling of hatred for the world and everything in it bubbling in her chest.

—

“Hi, babe.” Harry pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek like it was normal before finding his reserved seat next to her, surprising both her and their friends. If Kacy was all too shocked, though, she didn‘t show it, simply widening her grin in response to Harry‘s presence. “Hi, guys.”

“You finally showed up!” Kacy exclaimed, drawing the attention on him with her loud voice. Harry was so busy that he could be hard to track down, which made him an easy target for the occasional jab. In all fairness, he’d seen Y/N almost every day, just not his other friends— and in full honesty, that had been enough for him.

“Yeah, sorry, finals week.”

“Y/N found the time,” Sebastian chimed in, tone laced with a tinge of earnestness, although Y/N and Harry could tell he was only teasing.

Harry retorted fairly quickly, “cause she has no other social life.”

At Harry’s words Y/N turned her head at him, mouth dropping open in genuine offense. She couldn’t do anything other than laugh, but really she should’ve hit him for saying that. “So you’re a whore and a backstabber!”

Harry cackled, that beautiful laugh escaping his mouth and blessing her ears, pulling her into his side and hugging around her frame. “I’m only joking!”

“Whatever. I’m not speaking to you the rest of the night.”

“Sure. You try that and we’ll see how that works out for you, babe.”

Everyone but them saw what their future could look like if they both stopped being stubborn and admitted their feelings for one another. Even sitting here, Kacy could see the way Y/N’s lips molded into a smile at Harry’s touch and the way he beamed whenever she played into his antics. Their bond was effortless in the way many couples wished theirs to be— it looked so easy for them to mesh together. Their friends knew they could be happy together and it frustrated them to see no progress being done.

By the end of the night, Y/N and Harry were blubbering drunk messes leaving the bar together. Y/N had taken it upon herself to call the uber back to his for the night.

“God, that was sooo fun,” Harry slurred out, “shame they’re closing soon.”

“You should come more often, we do this every week!”

Both Y/N and Harry were all smiles, looking at each other with excitement radiating from their bodies. It’d been long since they’d really let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here with me, you know that?”

Her heart rate plummeted.

Sometimes Harry said things drunk that wouldn’t pass as ‘normal’ when sober. He was close, grinning at her like a puppy in love and spoke with such confidence that Y/N was sure he couldn’t have not meant it.

“I’m happy you’re here, too, H.”

“No, like seriously though. You’re the best person I know.”

Heat rushed to Y/N’s cheeks. He was really testing her waters here.

“Oi, shut it. What do you want from me? Why’re you buttering me up?”

Harry shrugged, “nothin’. You really are. Just accept the compliment.”

“Fine,” Y/N smiled in a bashful manner, “thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Y/N stared at her boots, grinning to herself. Comfortable silence went on for a few short minutes, just the sound of the wind wafting by and quiet, calm breathing. Occasionally a car they looked up to to check it wasn’t their ride.

It was such a nice atmosphere.

Y/N was sure nothing could ruin this night for her. She was so happy, so careless in the way uni had long prohibited her from being. She wanted to exist in her little snug bubble forever, a place to hide from the real world with the person she admired most. She‘d sacrifice anything if she could keep this feeling for a bit longer.

And then, as if the universe disagreed with Y/N‘s pursuit of happiness, a needle set out to burst her bubble.

That needle was Harry, and outside of the bubble, it was cold.

“Can I kiss you?”

The ground beneath her shattered at his words.

Was he… serious?

Because this was her dream. If he‘d been serious, then her dreams had come true in exactly the worst way.

Y/N had wanted a kiss from Harry since they’d become friends all those years ago, but not like this. Not drunk. Not on some stupid impulse. Not when they would wake up and realize it had been a mistake in a few hours. If she’d been willing to risk their relationship because of one shortlived kiss, she would’ve done it a long time ago.

He couldn’t do this to her! He couldn’t do this because to her, this wasn’t just fun. It wasn’t a cute little memory to look back on. Oh remember when we got drunk and kissed? Wasn’t that so funny? No, to her this was more. It was her whole livelihood, the cruxes which her heart depended on. It sounded so ridiculous, but that was what love had done with her.

So although it hurt more than anything she’d ever had to do, Y/N shook her head. Her head barely moved, like her brain was plotting against it as well as her heart, but it did shake just enough to give him an inkling.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He was quiet for a few seconds (although she could feel his eyes burning a hole into her) before eventually retorting with a weakened, “why not?”.

“You’re drunk.”

“Been wanting to for a long time, Y/N.”

“Harry,” she stressed, voice quivering. Her next words came out in a whisper, “shut up.”

This time, he surrendered.

They waited for their uber in complete silence and when it came for them to sleep, Harry chose to stay on the couch instead of sharing the bed with her. Although Y/N was excruciatingly tired, she couldn’t for the life of her close her eyes.

She’d fucked up so badly.

—

Y/N felt slightly out of place as she slid into Harry’s kitchen in the morning. She looked at him already sat at the breakfast table with an array of pastries waiting.

“Hey.”

Harry nodded, “hi, help yourself. Went to the bakery on my run.”

“Thanks,” she murmured quietly, almost to herself. She was too scared to look at him.

“I don’t want it to be awkward between us, so I’ll just cut to the chase: I’m sorry about last night. I know I was drunk and weird and it won’t happen again. You were right.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up just slightly, the sheer surprise evident on her features. He was really bringing it up now!

“… right about…?”

“Bout it not being a good idea. I’ve never… I was really out of it, you know? Wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

Wow. Yes, obviously it would’ve been a mistake, Y/N knew that more than anyone. But his apology did more damage than good. It was like a knife was being pushed through her chest, agonizingly slow as to make it more painful. Harry had confirmed exactly how uninterested he was in trying anything more with her and it just about devastated her. And yes, in all fairness, it was unjust because she’d been the one to reject him last night but a tiny sliver of hope that he would reach out his arms and say ‘I still feel the same, I still want to kiss you!’ had still possessed her delusional mind all night.

“Oh, that. Yeah.”

Harry tried to catch her eyes, “so are we cool?”

“We’re cool.”

Y/N was barely floating now. She didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to exist.

It hurt too much to exist sometimes.

“Y/N?”

She snapped out of it. “Hm? yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. You just reminded me of this girl I met yesterday, Iris,“ her shaking hand slid into her pocket to find the little note she‘d kept stored and handed it to him without making eye contact. Her body was on fire.

“Oh.”

“She wanted me to give you her number, said something about a party where you lot met.”

Y/N watched as realization dawned on him, probably a fleeting memory of Iris now soberly imprinted on his mind. She could imagine all the ways in which he thought about somebody like Iris, somebody who would be so perfect for him.

“Right. Thank you.”

“No problem. I should probably head out to mine and get a few uni things done before I get too lazy.”

Unprompted, Harry ignored her statement. She had a feeling he didn’t even want to hear her. “I didn’t want to text her. Completely forgot about her, actually.”

Y/N couldn’t find the answer as to why.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I didn’t… I don’t really like her like that.”

“Really? Iris was under the impression that… I mean, maybe she’s mistaken, but she told me about your little hangout sesh and it seemed nice, you know?” Harry’s eyes held something a little different— confusion, curiosity and a bit of sadness. It drove Y/N crazy deciphering him. “And Iris seems exactly like the type of girl you’d like.”

Then his eyebrows drew together, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N shrugged, body sinking and slowly becoming one with the chair, “just… pretty, is all.”

“A lot of girls are pretty, Y/N, doesn’t mean I automatically wanna date them when I talk to them once.”

“Yeah, but… Iris is your kind of pretty. She’s confident and I’m sure she’s funny.”

“My kind of pretty? What are you implying?”

“Nothing! Jesus, Harry, I just think Iris would be a good fit for you. She’s your type, is all.”

Harry scoffed like he took offense to Y/N’s reply, “and I’m sure you know exactly what my type is, huh? Cause I’m so surface level that I’m only into the same girl, yeah? What, blonde and tall?”

“Harry, that’s not—“

“Then what do you mean to say by that?”

“I just—“

“You’re boxing me together with that dickhead James!”

“No, Harry, I’m not— and if you would just listen to me, you’d understand that!” Y/N finally broke, raising her voice by a few notches so Harry would hear her over his loud accusations. “I’m not implying to you, by thinking you might be into her, that you’re surface level. I’m just saying, Iris seems like she would be your type because in the past, you’ve gone for girls like her. That isn’t bad, okay? I’m not criticizing, just pointing out. You’re into pretty girls.”

“Prettiness is subjective, Y/N, and what you’re doing right now is putting me in a box. What does that even mean, pretty girls? Clearly you’re implying I only date girls that are conventionally attractive because that’s my definition of pretty.”

“So what if it is? I didn’t say it’s anything bad,” Y/N leaned back in the chair, volume lowering as if she couldn’t argue with that statement. “Everybody’s allowed a type.”

“It’s just… you’re using the word type in a derogatory way.”

“How the fuck am I using the word type in a derogatory way?”

“Sounds like you’re saying I’m some dickhead who only goes off of looks. Only goes for tall blonde girls cause they’re tall blonde girls and not because they’re nice people.”

“When did I say that?!” Y/N was bewildered by this. She hadn’t meant anything bad by it! “I have a type too, you know that! And that’s okay!”

“Oh yeah fucking tell me about your type, Y/N, go on.”

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that you were just crying about James only dating cheerleaders a week ago and now you’re here putting the same thing on me!” Y/N breathed out in distress, finding less ways of deescalating the situation. “Be honest, then, what do you really think of me?”

“What are you even… I love you, H, I’m your best friend, I would never dream of insulting you. I was just saying that you seem to have a type, which there is nothing with!”

“So then what does pretty mean?”

“Just… pretty, okay? Don’t read too much into it.”

“No, I want to hear it. Describe pretty to me.” The word pretty had been spoken out so many times in such vain, that its meaning had became trivial at best.

“I don’t know, H, Girls like Jess, Angelina, Diana, Elle… which, if you were to write out their characteristics; they’re all blonde, tall, skinny girls. I’m not saying that you go off of looks, but I do think you have preferences, and that’s fine. That’s healthy, even.”

Then he scoffed again, but significantly quieter this time around. “Right, you brought the fucking receipts to the table, didn’t you? Do you usually think so lowly of me everywhere you go?”

It hurt to have this distance between her and Harry. They’d always gotten along so well before, so why did this have to become what it had? It had all come out of nowhere and Y/N didn’t have the strength or the energy to lose the one thing she constantly depended on to be okay.

“I don’t… Harry, I don’t think lowly of you. I just thought that you might like Iris.”

“I’m sure you did then.”

“Harry,” she sighed, “please, I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“I didn’t, got it perfectly clear. So one question though, am I allowed to like brunettes? Or is that too daring?”

“Harry, stop. Why are you being such a dickhead?”

“I’m being a dickhead?”

“Yes, you are.”

“At least I have history with girls for you to come to that conclusion yourself, right? Maybe when you find the courage to actually talk to a guy I’ll be able to find out what your kind of pretty is.”

And it wasn’t meant to be a jab, surely, at least not a terribly painful one, but it hit Y/N stronger than she would have liked. Who was he, making fun of her dating life? This wasn’t the Harry who reassured her after every pathetic bad date, who convinced her that it would be okay if she didn’t find her man straight away as long as she was happy. She’d loved Harry for a year now and there was something so liberating in exploring unknown territory, in partaking in the so called ‘chase’ (maybe somewhat masochistic, liking the torment of the unknown) but that feeling came to a full stop now that it had become clear that Harry didn’t love her back. Before, it had been speculation— now, it was real. And although she’d expected pain, this was cold blooded torture.

Harry didn’t look regretful, but that was because he had no idea what his words actually meant for her. Sometimes she wondered how the people she loved most could hurt her so much as to kick her down to the ground and repeatedly stomp on her lifeless body.

Without a word, Y/N stiffened her shoulders in an attempt to seem stronger and stood up from the table with a low intake of breath.

“Y/N.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” she muttered quietly but defiantly as she slipped on her shoes and opened the door out.

She didn’t have anywhere to go, but she knew anywhere else would suffice better than here.

—

Y/N wasn’t even surprised when she saw Harry and Iris arriving at the party together with the biggest smiles on their faces. Kacy turned to her and widened her eyes, motioning to the couple by the door with a questioning stare. Y/N simply shrugged.

She’d been hurting by herself, cramped away in her flat with a bottle of wine and three boxes of tissues and hoping for a little break when Kacy had asked her out tonight— but here he was, ready to ruin her minute of relief.

“She gave him her number through me last week… guess he finally called her.” Y/N explained, lowering her voice. “We haven’t talked since that morning after the bar.”

Kacy’s eyes widened again, because the last time Y/N had spent so much time away from Harry had been Christmas— and even then, they’d called each other every day.

“Why?”

Y/N simply shook her head, unwilling to elaborate. All Kacy could do was pull her into a tight hug and ask her what she wanted to do next.

“I just…” Y/N’s breaths shook, “I’m so tired, Kace.”

And although Y/N had never brought up the topic of Harry, Kacy knew exactly what she was referring to and her heart broke for her friend.

“Let’s go to one of the bedrooms.”

Y/N gave a stuffy nod and followed as Kacy lead the way upstairs.

Once they sat down, Y/N began to open her mouth. Her arms hugged around her own frame and tears were building in her eyes.

“Talk to me, Y/N. What happened?”

“He… I don’t know, Kace, he just got so mad at me. I was giving him Iris’ number and he said that he didn’t like her. I told him he should probably call her because I think she’d be good for him— I think I said ‘she’s your type’ or something like that, which is a normal thing to say! And then he went ballistic on me.” Y/N sniffed her nose, “I was just trying to be nice. He started accusing me of finding him surface level even though I implied no such thing.“

“Oh, honey,” it was through Kacy’s pitiful expression that Y/N noticed the ugly tears cascading down her swollen cheeks. “I don’t wanna make you feel worse, babe, but that doesn’t sound like Harry. Maybe you worded something wrong? Or he just heard you wrong?”

“No, I tried multiple times to clear it up, but he kept the attitude.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, I said that he likes pretty girls and he said what do you mean pretty girls? and so I described what I thought his type was, which is tall blondes, you know? And I even said that having preferences is healthy and that I don’t mind but he thought I was boxing him in. But don’t you agree? Isn’t that his type?” Kacy took too long to answer, making Y/N grow insecure, “Come on, he only dates tall blondes!”

“That’s not even true, Y/N. What about Vanessa?”

She rolled her eyes, “fine, one tall redhead.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… I think he was offended because he thought you were calling him some kind of jerk who only goes off of looks.”

“But he’s… he’s great, Kace, really, and I love him, but he does always date attractive supermodel type girls. I mean, good for him, but you know? And I don’t at all think I’m ugly, I think I’m pretty, but not his kind of pretty.”

“Okay, but… okay, what were you talking about before the whole Iris thing?”

“It’s a long story,” Y/N groaned, head falling into her hands, “when we were drunk he asked me if he could kiss me. I said no.”

“What?! Why would you say no?”

“Because we were drunk! And then the next morning he said I was right, that it would’ve been a mistake and we would’ve regretted it.”

Kacy’s mouth was kind of wide open, “and then you brought up Iris?”

“Yes, because I needed a change of topic.”

“But right after that he said he didn’t like Iris.”

“Yes.”

“And then you accused him of being surface level and he got mad?”

“Kacy, I literally didn’t! I—“ Y/N stopped defending herself because she knew she couldn’t cheat her way out of it. “Yes, maybe, okay? So what?”

“So he totally loves you.”

At that point Y/N started laughing— a genuine laugh made its way out of her mouth and she started shaking her head. Her laugh simmered down to a little chuckle and then she got tears in her eyes again. It was taxing to have feelings sometimes.

“Right, sure. Hope you stretched before you took that fucking reach! He said right before that he’d never have asked if he was sober.”

“He was saving face because you refused to kiss him.”

“Kacy, no,” she sighed, “don’t feed me that bullshit. You’re going to give me hope and I can’t take any more of that, okay?”

“He got mad you think he only likes blondes because he loves you and you don’t even see it,” Kacy elaborated even further, which bothered Y/N on so many levels.

“I can’t, Kace,” Y/N cried, covering her eyes with her palms and letting the tears flow out, “I’m so fucking tired of feeling unwanted and like I’m not enough. Like whatever I do, there’s still some other girl who gets his attention. I can’t go on loving him and being his second girl every day. He goes on bad sex dates and comes home to me, goes to parties where he does body shots off of other girls, and then cuddles me in bed. I just can’t do it. One day he’ll get married and expect me to be his best man and that’s way more than I can take.”

“Look, I understand, but all you need to do is talk to him.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Isn’t it better to lose him now than to feel like this every day and lose him in a few years when you’ve physically broken yourself down over it? Isn’t it better to know? I know you won’t lose him because I see the way he looks at you and I see how he treats you. And he’d be stupid not to like you back. But if I‘m wrong, wouldn‘t it still be better to know?“

“No. I can do without knowing. If he knows and he doesn’t feel the same it’ll be weird and I can’t lose him. I can’t, Kace, he’s the only thing holding me together. Look at me, I’m such a fucking mess.”

“Y/N, eyes up,” Kacy ordered, taking ahold of Y/N’s forearm and forcing her to look at her, “you’re allowed little moments of weakness. Love does crazy things sometimes. You need to tell him or you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”

Y/N’s eyes stung hard.

The door opened in that moment, forcing the sound of the music into the otherwise quiet room with a force. Both girls looked up to find Harry by the door, his eyebrows drawn together in concern at the sight of his teary eyed best friend. It didn’t matter what they were going through, their bond was strong enough for him to know something was seriously wrong.

“Are you okay?”

It was then that Kacy took her cue to leave, to Y/N’s dismay, and stood up from the chair to let Harry take her place. She closed the door behind her to give the two of them privacy.

“Y/N, you okay?”

“Yeah,” she tried to smile, though due to the tears it was clear as day that she was perpetually telling him lies whenever he asked her that question. “I’m okay.”

“Hey, come on,” he whispered into the quiet, inching closer to trap her chin between his fingers, “tell me what’s wrong. Did some asshole hurt you?”

“Yeah,” she nodded with a small sniffle. The asshole is you. “I’m just… having boy trouble. It’s okay. You should go back to the party.”

“Fuck the party. Who hurt you? Do you want me to go beat him up? Did he touch you?” He’d started raking over her body to check for bruises, a tick in his jaw.

“No! God, no, I’ll get over it.” I couldn’t ever get over you. “Isn’t Iris waiting for you? I saw you arrive together.”

“Oh,” his features hardened for a split second. Y/N blinked and it was gone. “No, we ran into each other outside and talked for a bit. She asked me out, so… I think I’m going to go.”

It was like he was testing her, staring into her eyes to capture the exact moment she crumbled. But she didn’t. She held her head high and gave a subtle nod. “Sounds good.”

He sighed. It was quiet and could almost be classified as a simple exhale, but she knew it wasn’t.

“So who’s the guy?”

Sometimes he could be so oblivious that Y/N wondered how he’d made it so far in life. Surely he was only playing the part, right?

“Doesn’t matter,” Y/N shrugged. She was starting to cry again. “He’s insignificant.” You could never be insignificant to me.

“Should I talk to him?”

Yeah, that would be good. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just… get over him.”

“Well I don’t like seeing you hurt, baby,” he tilted his head, cupping over her jaw and brushing over her skin delicately. The room was dimly lit to make it all the more romantic, but Y/N couldn’t fully be immersed in it. “No guy is worth your tears. You’re beautiful and brave and so so funny. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Y/N. You’re the most perfect girl there ever was and if he can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

He couldn’t do this to her. He couldn’t speak of her the way she always wished he would speak of her, but not mean it. It showed her what he was capable of— loving her, paying her attention the right way. She was left shattered.

“See, you say that, but you…” Y/N broke down in tears, “but nobody ever means it.”

He tilted her head up so he could stare deeply into her eyes and utter his next words in full honesty, “I mean it. I promise you, Y/N, I mean what I said with everything I have in my body. I mean it every time I say it when I’m drunk and I mean it when I’m sober. I mean it when you’ve just woken up and I mean it when we’re studying together at night. I mean it and I will always mean it.”

Instead of making her happy, his words made her cry even more.

“Harry,” she cried, bending her neck forward so the top of her head rested on his chin, “it hurts so much.”

“Come on, baby, it’s not worth it.” Then he started kissing the crown of her head, moving down to her temple and rubbing circles into her shoulders. “It’s not worth it.”

But he was worth it. He clouded her vision and made her feel lightheaded. He had the power to make her cry and the power to make her so unbelievably happy that she couldn’t imagine having ever been unhappy. He made her wonder how she could’ve lived such a mediocre, painful life before he’d entered it— that was the kind of power he possessed.

Y/N didn’t have to think twice about kissing him, she just did. She looked up at Harry and inched closer to rest her lips on his, and it caused emotions in her body she didn’t even know were possible. Harry seemed surprised but he caught on fairly quickly, letting her take the lead in the kiss until it’d been a few seconds and he felt her deepening it.

He pulled away, eyes finally opening.

She was startled. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

He shook his head gently, letting a reassuring smile sit on his lips, “no, but I’m worried about you. I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this when you’re crying over another guy, you know? I don’t want to be your numbing medication.”

“You’re… not,” her eyebrows drew together.

“You didn’t want to kiss me last week. It’s seeming like an ‘I miss another guy so I’ll hook up with you to numb the pain’ situation and I just… I don’t want either of us to regret it.”

He was trying to be nice— and he was, really was, but the sinking feeling in Y/N’s stomach worsened.

“That’s because we were drunk last week.”

“You’re hurting over another person, Y/N.”

“He’s not important, I just want to kiss you. I want to mess around with you. Okay? Because I want to, not because I’m into some other dickhead.”

Harry seemed to have trouble believing her, “I can’t.”

“Okay, whatever. It’s fine.” Y/N stood up from her chair, creating some distance between her and Harry and started walking away from him. He held onto her hand though, preventing her from moving too far.

“Y/N, come on.”

“No, genuinely, I don’t want to coerce you into having sex with me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She was being honest. She didn’t want Harry to feel like she was using him under false pretenses.

But having him think that was still better than confessing.

“I didn’t think you were coercing me into doing anything, Y/N, I just don’t want you to regret it.”

“Yeah,” tears built in her eyes again and she bit her lip to hold them in, “you’re a really good guy, Harry.”

When he stood up to offer her comfort, she immediately took a step back and held her hand in front of her in an effort to force him away. “Please don’t.”

“Y/N…” He looked pained and thoroughly confused at her cold behavior. Harry knew she tended to close off whenever she felt bad about herself, but that had applied mostly to other people. Harry, on the other hand, had always been successful in finding a way to pull back her in.

“No, I’m embarrassed. Jesus, I’m such a mess! I was talking about this with Kacy, I‘m just… I‘m all over the place.”

“You’re not a mess. You’re hurting, that’s normal.”

“I just asked you to fuck me, that’s… who the fuck does that? Since when am I like this?”

“Since you’ve been hurt,” he countered, “love makes you do weird things. God knows I get a bit crazy too when I’m in love.”

“No you don’t,” she said to him, voice hoarse and uncomfortable, “you’re fucking Mr. Perfect. Everyone loves you and you’re hot and you’ve got the brilliant mind. You can’t do anything wrong.”

“Everyone doesn’t love me,” he replied with a leveled tone, “if everyone loved me, I’d be with the girl of my dreams right now. But I’m not, so… not everyone.”

“Can’t fucking imagine that,” Y/N muttered, wiping under her eyes. “You probably just communicate badly and she doesn’t know you love her.”

“Same with you.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

“He’s way out of my league.”

“Who is this guy anyway? You’re gonna hype him up to me and not even let me know who it is?”

“He’s, uh…” Y/N walked further away from him and sat down at the edge of the bed, covering her face with her hands, “he’s from uni. Tall, dark brown hair, green eyes, sometimes glasses. He’s really nice but dates girls who are the complete opposite of me. And I just… whenever I look in the mirror, I’m reminded of just how… unattractive I am compared to them— and don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with me but they’re just better. I can’t keep up with it. And god, I feel so pathetic talking about myself like this but he’s just… he‘s so perfect and I love him and I don’t want to lose him. He makes me doubt myself sometimes, you know?“

At the latest he must’ve known now. Y/N could hear his brain professing that information, double and triple checking all possibilities until it dawned on him that she was talking about him.

He cleared his throat, stepping closer. “So he’s… where do you know him from again?”

A short pause before committing to the method, “we met at the fresher’s party three years ago.”

“And you see each other a lot, I assume.”

Y/N was still not looking at him, head buried in her hands.

“We… yeah. We hang out every day. He’s mad at me right now though.”

“So you… you love me.”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. She’d given up, left it all to fate; if he would turn her away and never talk to her again or ask to continue being friends. It all became obsolete.

“I’m sorry,” she muffled into the palms of her hands.

“D’you wanna hear about the girl I’m in love with? Have been in love with for a year now?” Y/N wanted to shake her head, but she didn’t, so he continued. “She’s from uni too, spends about three nights a week at my flat even though hers is bigger. She can be really distant, but when she gives you attention it’s like the whole world healed. She’s so sweet and considerate and brings me little gifts sometimes and even though she’s damn near perfect, she gets really insecure about things, especially when it comes to her looks and stupid dicks.” Y/N had started looking up at his words, spotting Harry closer to her but not sharing any of her own emotions. He was taking the piss, wasn‘t he? “Locks herself away in her room until she feels ready to leave the flat. She’s selfless, gives me other girls’ numbers even though she’s in love with me— even makes me go on dates even though I’m sure it hurts her feelings whenever I do.”

“You love me?” she sniffled, “I’m not joking about this.”

“I love you, Y/N. I do. S’why I got so mad last week, wanted you to realize that I’m more than some shallow asshole. Didn’t know you felt the same, though.”

“How could you not? I literally get so weird around you these days.”

“Thought it was just stress or something,” he cupped her cheek, thumbing away some tears, “I’m sorry you cried about me, should’ve just said it like a normal person. Just didn’t want to ruin us.”

“Me neither.”

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

This kiss was a thousand times better than the last one. Y/N felt giddy as his lips ghosted over hers, as he pulled her up from her seat and sat back down to have her climb over his lap. She breathed into his mouth, ground against his crotch like she was a horny 16 year old girl being touched for the first time. There was no heavy feeling weighing down on her chest, she could just be free of concerns.

After a few minutes of making out, Y/N laughed. She damn near cackled into his mouth and when he questioned her with a confused stare and a cute laugh of his own, she shook her head.

“Remind me to thank Kacy later.”

—

disclaimer: this is NOT meant to offend anyone based on their looks— it‘s just a depiction of a girl feeling insecure because she thinks the guy she loves doesn’t see her the way she wants him to. The description i used of his ‘type’ and the inevitable perception of what Y/N looks like in this story was completely random and is completely up to you. I hope it doesn’t come across as anything other than that!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles

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cherry-leclerc · 1 year ago

Text

about you ☆ cl16

genre: yearning, humor, pwp (smuttt, perhaps a bit dirtier than I intended, yikes), glimpse of fluff!

word count: 5.8k

Where Charles reminisces on his first love, where for a while, you were all his. First loves are portrayed as something you never want to forget or in this case, forgive. And it all started with a painting.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, doggy style, spit, squirting, teary eyes, teasing, polaroids (ha!), slightly mean/teasing charles

inspired by this and this !

“What about you?”

The group had settled into quite a comfortable spot, gossiping about first loves, if you really care about that type of thing, and spilling secrets. Seeing as it was late November everyone either had a cup of coffee or hot chocolate, courtesy of Lily.

“I don’t really like to talk about her anymore.” The room grows silent as Charles tries to play off the sudden shift. At times like these he almost envied the cold. The cold never once got questioned of why it was like that, but he knew the same wouldn’t go for him.

“Uh uh,” Daniel clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “We all went around sharing, it's only protocol you do the same.”

If anyone felt Charles grow uncomfortable, they chose to ignore it. He can’t be too upset, before this he was enjoying his time, up until the attention turned to him. If it were anything else, he’d give it a go, but he knows too well that he can’t get out of this one.

“I’ll make it easier for you,” Lewis tries to ease the Monegasque. “How did you meet her?”

He feels quite sad that it takes him a while to remember, but eventually he recalls it all.

“I met her in LA.”

Staring up at the blazing sun you spill out dirty curses. You had been frolicking in the shops trying to find a decent vegan restaurant for your boss to enjoy. Digging out a hair tie from your tote bag has you even more irritated than you ever thought possible.

Stepping inside a small art gallery, you decide to refuge there for a bit. The cool AC instantly has you shutting your eyes in pleasure.

“How much for this piece?”

You pop an eye open before deciding not to spare a glance. “I don’t work here.”

The man lets out an awkward cough before excusing himself. “Sorry, I just thought…my mistake.” Feeling bad you turn your head.

“It’s alright, I should apologize as well.” Catching a first glimpse makes you hate yourself just a tiny bit for acting like a bossy LA girl. Didn’t help that he also had the nicest eyes humanly possible.

“I’m Charles.”

Mutually, you both spend some time walking around. He lets you know he’s only visiting as he is a foreigner. You let out a small sigh. “Lucky you didn’t grow up in LA. Extremely tiring, I can tell you that much.”

“Tiring how?” He glances at you for a split second before looking at the nearest canvas. You hum.

“You eventually grow tired of being someone you’re not.”

The stranger seems to feel bad enough based on his facial expression, but he understood what you were saying. A single ring expands into the air as you bite down on your lip.

“Shit, my boss.” Completely enthralled into your conversation time had completely slipped your mind. “I have to get going, but it was nice to meet you…”

“Charles,” he reminds you as you share an embarrassed nod. Something inside of him tells him to ask for your number, though it really wouldn’t be wise enough to do, he’s not even from here or a regular visitor. It wouldn’t make sense.

“...264,” you finish telling him as he quickly types in your phone number.

“Great. I’ll see you later for dinner.”

“Since when do you visit LA?” Pierre’s voice is filled with betrayal. Charles rolls his eyes at his friend. “Mate, you know I’ve always wanted to go there for Nobu!”

“Yeah, well no need to worry I’ll leave LA all to you now.” The definite confirmation in Charles’ voice has everyone wondering how bad things could have gotten between their friend and the unnamed girl he had once been hung up on, though he would never admit it.

“How did the dinner go?” Alex curiously questions, trying to dig in deeper. He knew he wanted to get the best version since Lily had practically begged him to fill her in on the drive back home.

“It was the best date I’ve ever had.”

“Your reservation doesn’t exist.” The waiter was starting to grow annoyed at the 25 year old who insisted he had called on the phone. I can look for my own name on the list, Charles offers though the man quickly raises his hand. “I’m sorry, but the restaurant has grown full. You can try again tomorrow.”

Sitting down on the sidewalk he tries to think of ways to break the news to you. All of them had him cringing. A yellow cab pulls up in front of him and you step out smelling like a garden in Italy.

“Charles!” you exclaim as you run clumsily with heels undone. Finishing up your shift you had quickly dashed home to try to get here one time. Being a few minutes late isn’t all that bad.

“Hey…” He rises up as you’re sitting down. Sheepishly he sits back down once again. “So you might hate me…”

“Why’s that?” you hum as your clip on your heels. Once you are done you stare up at him. Your eyes have him tongue tied as he tries to remember the last time he’s felt like this. Seeing you dressed so pretty makes him upset and he knows he can’t mess this up with admitting his mistake.

“Someone got our table.” Frowning you peek over at the hostess who is taking in more names and clients. “Yeah they just swooped in and stole it.”

“No way!” Feistiness paints your eyes as you stand up, hands on your waist. He realizes he doesn’t completely hate this look on you. Clearing his throat he stands as he pats his hands against his pants.

“Don’t worry though I’m sure we can find some place else.”

“That’s not fair though,” you point out as you start to make your way over. His eyes grow wide as he runs alongside you.

“It’s okay! I swear I’ll find you an even better restaurant where you can dine and display your pretty dress!” You look beautiful by the way, he adds and you quickly turn to him with a smile and blush painting your cheeks.

“I’m sure you could but still, we should say something.” He doesn’t have a chance to stop you as you reach the hostess.

“Hi,” you chirp as you grin kindly. The older man turned his attention with a bored expression.

“How can I help you?”

“Well, um, my date,” you turn and point at Charles who stands there with a blank stare. “He made a reservation for two and it seems you gave our table away.” The man, John, shakes his head.

“You must be mistaken - or have been lied to - but your table wasn’t given away because your date here never made a reservation, as I already informed him.” You both turn your attention to the Monegasque as he begins his act.

“Uhhh…”

Shaking your head you face John once again. “If he told me he made a reservation then he made a reservation.” Raising an eyebrow you stare back at him expectantly.

“As I already told you, no he didn’t.”

Growing more nervous Charles tries to convince you to let it go. I just looked it up and there’s a better restaurant just 2 hours away! “No,” you finalize as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “We are getting our table back.”

“Then I guess you’re just going to have to keep waiting because we are most definitely not going to serve you today.” You roll your eyes.

“Thank you, John.” Making your way over you sit on a bench for waiting guests, Charles follows. “Which table did you reserve?”

“29.” Narrowing your eyes over at John you nod. “Alright. So here’s what we’re gonna do…”

“Are you sure about this?” He lifts you up toward an open window as you grab on, trying to stay secure.

“Just…yes. Just don’t drop me!” His hands placed on your body have him hard and he tries to play it off. This would not make him look good on a first date.

“Okay let me go now!” You screech as you climb over. He watches as you carefully place your Dior covered feet onto the ground. Clapping you shoot a thumbs up on your side of the glass. “Now it’s your turn.”

Rolling up his sleeves he slips into a small pep talk. You got this. You got this. Climbing up towards the window quite evenly has you standing there impressed. Pretty good, you congratulate as he looks down at your figure.

“Than-” Slipping he crashes onto the polished floors.

“Yikes.”

Rubbing his arm he follows you around the dimly lit restaurant. Lots of twists and turns. “I’m starting to get dizzy, how do you know this place so well?”

“I’ve made a few reservations for my boss and her colleagues to have private meetings, now hush and try not to catch anyone's attention!”

“Fuck! You’re Charles Leclerc!” A group of guys stand up in a hurry as you both stop dead in your tracks. You’re confused as to how they know your date's name but as soon as you catch a glimpse of their table’s number, your curiosity flows away.

“Oh so you guys stole our table!” You march over to them as they stare back confused. Charles immediately follows you.

“What are you talking about? We didn’t steal anything.” Tilting your head a bit you stare at them accusingly.

“Yes. Table 29. He reserved it.” You point over at Charles who is busy signing a few autographs in order for them to shut up and not get your attention. Dazed, you pull your eyes away from him as he stands there like a deer in headlights.

The guy ignores you as he pushes past you. Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest as you begin to glare. He begs for Charles to sign his shoe. Standing your ground you walk over to the now open seat. As the group starts to thank Charles for taking pictures and signing their belongings, which still doesn’t make much sense, they return to their table.

“Move.” The guy crosses his arms and begins to tap his fancy glossed shoes.

“No. This is our table.”

He turns to his friends who urge him. Others say, Leave it. She’s hot. Though as much as you're holding on to this stupid table, he is too. “Get up or I’ll have to call security.” Charles starts to stroll over to where you’re sitting to intervene with the situation but you let out a mocking laugh.

“You think a silly little trust fund baby like you scares me?” Licking your red lips you lean your arms over the dinner table. “Cause you don’t.”

His face starts to boil red as he tries to keep his cool. “Listen, this is our table. So get your filthy ass up and leave,” he spits out. Her ass is pretty nice, his friends confirm as Charles tries to restrain himself from going in for a sucker punch.

“It’s okay, jolie fille, I’ll buy you an even better dinner.” You push his hands away as your glare remains on the man in front of you.

“Quit acting like you’re the shit because you’re not. Has anyone taught you manners? Has anyone tamed the doggy?” You pout, poking his ego as he reaches out to drag you by the arm.

“Mate, there’s no need for that-” Charles begins before he catches a glimpse of a flying arm.

“Don’t touch me!” You yell out as you spare a solid uppercut, and as it was unexpected, he flew back where his friends all tackled to not let him fall.

A few guests gasp and others murmur. Charles sends a small dimpled smile before grabbing you, making sure you weren’t going in for more. “Crap. That shit hurt,” you moan as you massage your knuckles. Fondly, and a bit amazed, he smiles.

“I think we should leave,” he advises as you nod.

“Yeah. Go ahead and listen to your owner…doggy.” Turning around, Charles barely has a chance to grab you before you go in for another hit.

“You bitch!”

He stands up, not before his friends hold him back. You kick as Charles lifts you by your waist, carrying you away.

“Let go! I’m going to mess up his botox face!” You dig your nails, not intentionally, into his skin as he hisses.

As you continue screeching in his arms a now concerned and confused John stares, jaw on the floor.

“Don’t worry, Johnny, we’re leaving.”

“Holy shit!” Pierre stares, eyes wide. “That’s so cool! Why didn’t Kika and I do that on our first date?” Everyone agrees. Charles hums at the memory he had not reminisced on for quite a while.

“So you had a fun date and then what? You just let her go?” Lando shakes his head in disapproval, claiming he wouldn’t have messed up in that way.

“No, we still continued seeing each other.” He smiles. “You don’t get it. I was completely captivated by her.”

Apologizing over the last date you both had was pretty easy.

“Don’t worry. That was the most fun I’ve had in a while.” You laugh at his response as you take a sip of your lemonade. Glossy lips wrap around the straw before biting down. He had to stop staring.

“How did they know your name?” Fiddling with your cup you squint at him underneath your sunglasses. He stiffens.

“You see, I’m…I… I drive.”

You scrunch your nose like a bunny as you let out a muffled laugh. He shakes his head as he tries again.

“A Formula 1 car. I drive in Formula 1.” Nodding you twiddle with the straw.

“What’s that?”

Shocked, he finds himself asking, seriously? You shrug. “Care to explain, Mr. Leclerc.”

He spends the next 2 hours walking you through it all, taking his time. He learns that you had no idea of his status and career in F1 since it appeared that it isn’t as popular in California as it is in Europe, though it’s getting there.

“Nice. So I’m dealing with a celebrity,” you whisper jokingly as you raise your purse to cover you both. “Don’t wanna get paparazzied.”

“I’m not a celebrity,” he laughs as you giggle, bringing your purse down.

“Of course not,” you agree. “You’re Charles.”

For some reason, that makes him feel more seen than he has in years.

“Seriously, how long was this trip and why wasn’t I invited?”

“He just didn’t want you bugging him like you are now,” Max croaks as Pierre flips him off.

“I was only there to buy this one portrait, but as soon as I met her, it’s almost as if that was a reason to stay. I wanted to stay.” Charles stands up to serve himself another cup of hot chocolate, he adds almost half of the bag of marshmallows.

“Leave some for the rest of us,” George cries out.

“Look! He’s getting chocolate drunk, this is a real problem,” Lando pokes fun as Carlos laughs next to him.

“I want to know more about this mysterious girl. What was she like?”

The green eyed boy thinks about it. Then he thinks about it some more. “I don’t know…What I do know is that I’ve never met someone like her.”

“It’s a staple here in LA. You have to go.”

It’s 5pm and you both sit in your old Chevy your grandpa had passed down to you. Here you were, trying to convince Charles to go to the Griffith Observatory.

“I’m not sure…What if someone noticed me?” You tap his nose before you dig into your bag. You pull out two bucket hats.

“I survived LA?” he reads as you nod.

“Bucket hats like these are also a staple, now put it on.” You hand him a pair of Ray Bans as you begin to drive to your destination.

“I feel like Jessica Olsen,” you squeal as you skip a bit, Keds and tube socks scratching along the pavement.

“Jessica who?”

“I forgot you’re all oh la laaa,” you tease as he laughs. You bump your hip against his waist. “It’s a movie. Starstruck. It’s about a girl who ends up meeting this international superstar and they go on all these crazy adventures.” You purposely leave out the fact where they fall in love. “He betrays her by saying he doesn’t know of her on national television!”

Your wounded reaction has him playing along. He gasps. “No wayyy!” Rolling your eyes you pinch his bicep.

“Don’t be a Christopher Wilde and betray me, got it?”

“Christopher Wi-”

“He was the superstar, Charles,” you sigh. “You ought to watch the movie.”

“This is so cool.” He finds himself walking ahead of you as he grows more and more excited with the cosmos.

Behind him you say, “It is, but it sucks you can see more city lights than actual stars.”

He finds you pouting and he wishes for nothing more than to kiss you.

“City lights are cool too.”

“You went to the Observatory as well!” Pierre groans into a pillow.

“Get over it already,” Yuki grunts.

Charles had forgotten how much he enjoyed his time with you. Back in Los Angeles you had said people there pretended to be something they’re not. In Europe, he felt the same. Coincidentally, when you were together, you both were the truest versions of yourselves. Something you both wished you were able to keep.

“Damn. This is pretty cute,” Lewis admits. “How long did you stay there?”

“1 month.” Everyone gasps.

“Oh you were into her into her,” Alex whistles. Growing a bit embarrassed Charles finds himself looking for any excuse to stop talking about you.

“Tell us more! Tell us more!” Daniel chants as he drums his hands against the wall. He shifts a bit before leaning his head up against the warm couch.

“I met her family.”

“God, what did I do to deserve this?” your dad yells as he stares up at the open sky, backyard lit with fairy lights.

“Calm down before you scare him away!” You had invited Charles over for homemade burgers, but you moved out a long time ago, you had no idea your dad was a recent Formula 1 fan. Specifically, Ferrari.

“Of course. I can act cool.”

Breathing hard, Charles finds you carrying your sister's baby. “Hey.” His voice cracks and you laugh.

“Cute. What’s up?”

Fixing his collared shirt he pushes his hair back a bit. “You’re dad is amazing. I mean it, but I need a little break.” Looking over, you find your dad already staring, foolishly sending two thumbs up.

“Ha! I get it. You can stick with me and Macy.” You coo at your niece as she drools down onto her bib. Instantly, you wipe her face. “Macy!” you screech as you softly pinch her chubby cheek.

Charles finds himself staring, admiring, and he never wants an excuse to look away. He’s never been the kind to envision his future with someone, but in that moment, he could. He saw you both living somewhere small, and cozy, somewhere where he could stupidly - and greedily - just enjoy you for himself. He could see you both having a few kids to fill in family portraits. Sundays at the Observatory.

“She’s cute.” Smiling you nod as you press a few kisses on the baby's cheeks and damn it, he won’t admit it, but he was just the tiniest bit jealous. Lucky, he thinks.

“Do you want to carry her?”

Too afraid he steps back, creating distance. “I would just drop her.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” you say as you hand Macy over to him. “Just make sure to support her head, please.” He does as instructed, but as soon as Macy lets out a little kick he almost finds himself purposefully letting go.

“She doesn’t like me, it’s fine!” Maybe he was a little afraid.

“She was only getting comfortable. Weren’t you Macy?” Your baby voice has him feeling more for you than humanly possible. Finally settling down, Charles and Macy grow into a comfortable position. Slowly, she begins to fall asleep.

“Thank you God!” you sister whisper-shouts as she lays a warm pat on Charles’ shoulder. “She doesn’t fall asleep with anyone, she must like you.”

“Really?” This makes him happier than he’d like to admit. Maybe he could do the whole dad-thing one day. His eyes travel towards you.

Frowning you whisper to the baby, “I see how it is.”

As the night grows darker, you both, along with Macy, sit next to the bonfire. “Seriously, a fire during summer?” you groan as you lay against Charles' shoulder. He could do this.

“It’s quite nice.” You let out a small snort as you fiddle with the baby blankie. “Thank you for inviting me.” The shyness in his voice is enough to make your heart swell.

“Of course.”

You take Macy to change her diaper and you disappear when your sister walks up to him. Pulling out a chair for her she thanks him. “You must really like her.” Despite his better judgment, he doesn’t answer. “But it also seems she likes you. You both are very cute. How long have you been together?”

“Uh, I’ve only known her for a week.”

Her eyes grow wide as she lets out a grin.

“Oh she really likes you.”

“Meeting the parents after a week and getting approval? 10/10,” George says as he claps.

“This isn’t daycare, Georgie,” Lewis teases. His teammate immediately stops clapping. More questions are thrown his way but one makes his heart stop for a split second.

“Did you fall in love?”

And he doesn’t have to think about it, because he knows he did.

“Sucks that you won’t be here forever,” you whisper. Amidst of summer, you both decided to go to your nearest farmers market. Picking out some plums he pauses and hands you one. Wiping it a bit, you bite down and let out a soft moan.

“Very good, Charles,” you commend as he smiles softly.

“Thank you, maman,” he highlights. “My mom showed us how to pick good fruit.”

“Do you miss her? Home?” Helping now to fill the small paper bag he thinks about it.

“Oddly enough, no. I mean I do miss my mom, but not home. Not half as what I thought I would.” Handing the lady money, you thank her.

“How’s that?” As much as you sometimes grew tired of Los Angeles you knew deep inside that you would grow homesick.

“You’ve made it pretty easy not to miss.”

Kicking a nearby rock you focus on the old man singing. “Very sweet for you to inflate my ego,” tossing the plum seed into the trash can you turn back around to face him. “I know you’re lying.”

He shrugs. “I mean it, but if you choose to ignore the truth…” Winking, he grabs the paper bag from you. “Hey, do you mind taking care of this?” The group of little boys sitting criss cross look up from their game.

“Sure?”

Grabbing your hand he takes you to the middle, where mostly elderly couples are dancing. “Spare me a dance?” Giggling you nod as you fit the small of your hand into his warm palm. Electricity shoots through you and if it weren’t for Charles flinching as well you would have sworn it was all a part of your imagination.

With his hands on your hips and your own lazily spilling over his shoulders you both sway. It's a rare focus of pure devotion, one that you’ve never felt. One he hasn’t either.

“Not too shabby.” Throwing a playful scowl he spins you before dipping you, hair flying as you let out a yelp.

“You’re going to crack her neck!” The small lady scolds as she looks over to where you giggle. “You’re lucky she’s alive. I’ve been dropped by that move,” she snaps as her husband holds her back.

“It was one time!”

Nodding, Charles brings you back towards him, delicately running his thumb against your cheek. “Didn’t snap your neck, did I?” The way he smiles is enough for you to lean into his touch.

“Nope.”

“So darling!” The old lady squeals as she places her hand over her heart.

After a few songs you both make your way to where the little boys were sitting. “Charles, they stole our plums!” you screech when you find out the group is long gone.

“Fuck. I paid them too.”

That night he invited you over to his hotel. “You can’t drive. Summer rain,” he insists as he points out the window of his room. Loud drops hit the glass.

“I would have been fine but alright,” you shrug as you jump onto his bed. “So what do you want to do? Pillow fight? Prank calls? Ouija board?”

“You’re sick.” He cracks a smile when you shrug.

“Well I’m not tired so you better think of something!”

Boy did he think. He imagined. He grew lustful, but no.

“I know how to shag.” The blush that creeps onto your cheeks makes him choke. “Shag as in the dance! The dance. My mom taught my brothers and I. I could teach you…” You nod.

Spending time in a tight hotel room with a low tune and feet stepping over one another has to be the highlight of his life.

“I thought you knew!”

“I do! I swear!”

You groan as you drop against the bed. “Time out,” you say as you cross your arms as an X, to display your break.

“Fine.” Since you both had not eaten much he decided to order room service. As you wait you both lay down watching old races of his. “Why this?”

“I want to learn more,” you explain as you hush him. The camera pans to a slightly older guy, extremely tan and extremely handsome. As soon as you catch a glimpse that he wears the same race suit as Charles you pause the screen. “That beautiful man is your teammate? The one you were talking about?” The tone of your voice has him groaning.

“Yes?”

“Wow,” you murmur as you softly touch the screen, eyes shining. Slapping the computer shut you turn to him with a sour face. “Why!”

“It’s weird,” he tries to reason.

“So if I reacted like that to you it would be ‘weird’ too?” His voice hitches at your interpretation. Growing shy you look away.

“I guess I would be flattered to be noticed by someone like you.” In a single moment he leans in and kisses you and it's almost as if any other kiss he’s had would never compare. You feel it too, the way he lets you meet his lips as if he’s been waiting for this, as if he’s been craving you.

A soft whine is released as he towers over you, purposefully making you lean against his soft bed. Wrapping your legs around his waist, your skirt hikes up allowing him to grip your thighs. He groans when you begin to rub yourself against him. He can feel just how wet you are and it takes all of him to not flip you to take you from behind.

The door chimes. “Food delivery!”

“You knew when you first danced with her? I knew I loved Kika when she picked up my socks.”

“It sounds like you really loved her,” Lando says. Love, Charles wants to correct, because only an idiot would ever stop, but he bites his tongue.

“What I don’t understand is why we never knew of her before this. Why didn’t you make it work?” Carlos says as everyone nods, sharing the same question.

“It was never going to,” Charles confesses. He wishes it would, he really wishes it still could, but it won’t. “That’s just the way it had to be I suppose.”

“Fuck, fuck,” you moan out as Charles wraps his hand into your messy hair.

“You can take it,” he reassures you. I can, you cry out, mainly to convince yourself, but he’s just too big. Leaning back he spanks your ass before rubbing it.

“Did I hurt you?” he teases as you shake your head against the sheets. “Answer me.”

“No!” With all your power you rise up to your elbows before turning around to look at him with teary eyes. The picture you see is too much; snapping his hips against you he slips in and out in the most sinister way. Sweat covering his face but to you he was glowing. You squeal when he reaches over to push two fingers into your mouth. You gag around his long digits.

This makes you clench around him and he almost stops his pace to catch a break but the way you're moaning, whining, gives him all the strength to continue. You cough as you try to spit his fingers out.

“You weren’t choking on my cock earlier, how is it that you are around my fingers?” His voice is nothing but the opposite of sympathetic and you love it. You shut your eyes as you force yourself to start to suck on them. “That’s it, baby,” he swoons as you take him just the way he knew you could.

Retracting his finger you find yourself missing them. He makes up for it when he pinches your nipples in a certain way that has you pushing your hips back towards him.

“So fucking beautiful.” He mostly says this to himself, but it has you squirming underneath his touch. “You drive me so so fucking crazy, y’know? ‘Twas supposed to be here only for a couple of days, but fuck, it’s almost going to be a month.” You let out a pornographic moan when he slaps your ass before going in much deeper. You find yourself drooling by how good this all was. “You’re so fucking addicting.”

Harder, you wail as you reach up behind you for his hand. He lets out a deep laugh as he hands you a polaroid he took of you a couple of days ago. One where he’s fingering you in front of his hotel mirror.

In it you’re mid-moan, head thrown against his shoulder. It’s almost embarrassing the way you could see your juices shimmer in the picture. You snatch the photo before throwing it across the room.

He tsks his tongue as he flips you onto your back, swiftly pulling your legs up to his shoulders, the angle almost causing you to be completely smushed up against your thighs. “You didn’t like the picture, darling?

“I do,” you pant, trying to catch your breath as you are now face to face with him. “It’s just too much all at the same time.” You bite down on your lip when his mouth forms an O, brows drawn together as he tries his best to appear intact, but the clear sight of having you underneath him is enough to cancel his acting debut.

Reaching out, he grabs your polaroid camera. “Guess I’ll just have to take another.” He smirks when you gasp when he holds onto your legs with the other arm, glistening muscles shining. You flinch at the cold jewelry that covers his beautiful fingers before settling back into a string of whimpers and pleas.

His grip is the perfect amount and you swear you are filled with pure adrenaline that you’ve never felt with anyone. In the most professional manner he spits right into your pussy, only adding more friction than there already was. The warmth has you squeezing your legs around his shoulders, feeling his collar bones underneath. Your core grows tight.

“Shit, don’t do that,” he moans, eyes shut for the briefest moment.

“I can’t, I’m gonna…” You’re cut off when a sudden flash goes through. Wickedly, you find out he took a picture of your tits covered with his cum from earlier activities.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get prettier,” he murmurs as he gazes at the photo, his rhythm only growing faster, harder. He throws the photo - vowing to look for it later - before wrapping his hands around your calves. “You’re going to what?”

Cruel, you think, he’s being cruel. But you don’t give a single fuck, not even when he smirks.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Go on then baby.”

Letting out the loudest cry you throw your head back as you gush around him, him following, and in the most unexpected manner he rubs your clit. This only adds to your pleasure as you are controlled with an unfamiliar feeling. You squirt all around him.

“Fuckkk,” he groans as he snaps a picture of you midst squirting and moaning. Quickly, he places the photo on the nightstand before slowly pulling away, mixed cum oozing out. He brings his fingers to gather some before licking it.

“No more,” you weakly plead. He nods as he brings your legs down, leaning up to kiss your cheek before he kisses your lips. You sigh against him.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says when you kiss his nose. He feels your soft breath fanning him, he inhales your perfume, one that he could never forget.

“Ditto.”

“Would you have given up racing just to stay there with her?” Pierre questions when he notices just how serious his friend was about you. He tries to recall the last time he saw him like this but there was nothing that ever compared. It almost scared him, but he was mostly sad. Sad that his friend was yearning for something that was never going to happen.

“Yes.”

“What stopped you?” Lewis asks as he leans against his knees. The room has grown more serious, suddenly filled with gloominess.

“It came to the point where she didn’t want me anymore.” His friends all frown at his response, growing more curious as to what happened, where did you mess up? “I get it though.”

A glimpse of the art piece he first saw when he met you is hung on the wall, a reminder of what once was. That single piece of art was the only reason he even visited LA, if not, there wouldn’t be anything to tell. In a certain way, he’s thankful for the way things flowed because at least he had the pleasure of getting to know someone like you.

“Are you telling them the story of your month trip for my favorite painting?” Charlotte jokes as she enters the room with Lily. “You guys, he waited so long just to buy it for me, it was the most romantic thing ever.” She swoons as Lily smiles, unknowing of the truth behind the painting.

The guys instantly spring their attention back to Charles where he sits silently. He stands up, walking over and places a kiss on her forehead.

“I would do it all over again.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 1 year ago

Text

For @orange-artist ‘s ASL god AU DTIYS! (congrats on the milestone!)

This was really fun, I absolutely love drawing ethereal designs

Additional notes 👇

So i adjusted the original designs ... a bit... To draw in my style means that i have to make everything extra, sorry.

Ace:

I like the base design for Ace a lot! i looked at other posts to get more context to these outfits and i say this draping billowy pants design that i liked a lot more, so I used that instead of the ones he has in the picture.

I love his cute little star crown, i think it looks dope as hell. I wanted to bring it to other parts of him too, so I gave him an arm cuff with it, too! If i had drawn the front of him, you would also see that crown design around his waist as a belt, too.

i originally had him in a pose similar to the one he has in the original, but after i sketched out the other two poses i found he looked a little two flat, so i brought his hand out to the foreground.

I like the choice for his hair to gradient out to look like a comet! I had a lot of trouble trying to make it look Just Right, but i think I nailed it

Luffy:

I didn't change much about his design, I really just made him a little more yellow than he was before. Its hard to improve an already banger design. He's my ethereal silly guy...

I really love the idea of Luffy's scars looking like gold, that's really cool.

I wish I could've added that cold crown he has around his head, but i didn't know how to without it looking sloppy so i had to leave it out.

Sabo:

I changed so much about Sabo's design, i would like to send out a formal apology for it, I admit I went a little too ham. I had already completed the picture before i went back to look at the original post and saw the comments about how Sabo was supposed to look... discreet...... I... Did Not Make Him Discreet. In The Slightest. :DDD ehe

I needed help for Sabo's pose because i was having so much trouble with the hand, i called upon my good website friend JustSketchMe to get it right. I had this idea for the pose because i wanted the claw to look like a crescent moon, I think it looks pretty good.

I would've given him normal snakebite piercings too but i felt that the ring piercings looked more Crescent-like, so i went with that.

Moon belt. i want that moon belt. I have no outfits it would go with. but i still want it.

I love Sabo's whispies that he has in the original design, but when I put them in the art i had, it cluttered up the piece too much and I had to get rid of them. A moment of silence for the fallen whispies...

Noticing now I forgot Sabo's Cane..... oops.

General:

I shaded Luffy to be lighted by the sun, Sabo the moon, but i made Ace be the light for himself. There's some deep meaning to that, but I cant think of one right now.

I had a lot of fun drawing this, i hope i was failthful enough to the original designs even though i changed everything a lot :)

Drinking game: take a shot everytime I used the word "I", take a double shot each time i forgot to capitalize it, too. You will be Dead by the end of the post, though.

#my art #monkey d. luffy #sabo #asl brothers #one piece fan art #portgas d. ace #sabo the revolutionary #OP god au #asl au #@orange-artist #DTIYS

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nrdmssgs · 1 year ago

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CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!

if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮‍💨

Masterlist List of prompts What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)

Does it make you nervous, when I stare?

Pairing: KonigxReader Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.

Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.

One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.

One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.

Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.

All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.

So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.

"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.

You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.

"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.

"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.

"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.

"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."

"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.

You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.

The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.

"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.

"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.

"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.

You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.

"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.

"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.

"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."

Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?

Schatzi - little treasure

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klausysworld · 1 year ago

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Hello hello! Hope you’re doing well :)

Loveeee your style of writing. I have a request )if your are up to it as it’s a hard topic) but would you do one of Klaus x human reader and she miscarries her and Klaus’ baby. I need to feel pain. But could we do a flash forward with a happy ending?

Totally understand if you do not want to write this.

Anyways, hope you have a wonderful day! 🤗

(Story is about miscarrying!!! Please do not read if this will upset/harm you and also know that I am always here to chat 🤍)

The love of a child

Klaus hadn’t wanted the baby to begin with. He thought it would only be a nuisance, a weakness. As usual it was Elijah who convinced him otherwise and forced his brother to house the poor innocent girl he had impregnated.

She had sobbed through the entire night when they brought her ‘home’. Klaus sat and listened to her sobs through the wall while he sighed and thought over his possible decisions.

Once she finally went quiet he went into her room, finding her curled up under the blankets. He gently pulled her head up onto a pillow and tucked her in, kissing her head gently before leaving the room.

Klaus was no stranger to one-night stands but he remembered when he had taken her back to a hotel room that she had been nervous, she had told him it wasn’t something she had done before. He felt a small amount of guilt that she now had a negative attitude towards both him and sex but he shoved that aside and behaved as though it slipped his mind.

He would ignore her when she came down for breakfast, her eyes still red and puffy.

For the first couple weeks he pretended she wasn’t there. Walked past him, almost through her and never spoke directly to her. It was only when Rebekah came and noticed the distant look in y/n’s sad eyes. She had yelled at Klaus that he needed to be looking after this girl, that she was family now.

Rebekah tried to warm Y/n to the idea of having a baby but when nobody was home she had gone to the doctors, she wanted to book an appointment for an abortion but somehow Klaus had figured it out. He dragged her home with little resistance.

She sat in silence as he screamed at her, called her every name in the book. She didn’t move when his hands harshly grabbed her shoulders and he shook her, Rebekah had to shove him off when she walked through the door. Y/n stayed on the floor until Klaus stormed out and went to his art room. Rebekah looked after her and made her feel better, made sure she ate and drank before she went to bed.

It was after Klaus had a few too many drinks that he came into her room. She was sat up and reading a book when he stumbled inside, his angry expression washed away within seconds and he was sighing heavily.

She put her book aside and pulled the covers closer to him when he sat opposite her on the bed. It was quiet for a moment before he began to speak

“I didn’t want to hurt you” he started, glancing between her eyes and his hands. “I’m…I’m sorry” he whispered but she gave little to no reaction. Klaus bit down on his tongue and clenched his hands “I want this baby, with you. I know I said I didn’t and I thought if I left you alone that would be better but- well I was wrong and…and..” he breathed heavier as he struggled to think of the words

“It’s fine” she mumbled and he sighed again

“It’s not” he breathed and she shrugged “I don’t want you to have an abortion” he whispered, his heart feeling tight “but if you truly want to-“

“I don’t” she uttered with a crack in her voice and shook her head, confusion came over him until she whispered her next words: “I thought it would be easier”

He nodded and they fell back into silence. He could sense her discomfort but he didn’t want to leave. He just stayed and watched as she began to grow tired and cold. A question itched at his mind until he asked it

“Do you regret meeting me?” He asked quietly and she shrugged “coming back with me?”

Y/n shifted at the mention and he frowned to himself. “It’s not ideal” she murmured “but it’s happening and we might get something amazing out of it” she mused and he smiled.

“Yeah…we will” he whispered and gently, cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t want to tell him that they were bruised from how he grabbed her earlier and so instead just placed her hand on top of his and smiled back.

Eventually he stood back up and gave a soft kiss on the back of her hand and went to his own room.

They both went to sleep with hoping of a better tomorrow.

He tried his best, brought her some toast upstairs for when she woke and a glass of juice. She was still quiet but thankful as he stayed and spoke to her for a few minutes, finally sharing what was going on in New Orleans and why it was so important that she stay indoors.

He left her be for the rest of the day, Rebekah came and chatted with her for a bit and then Klaus came back with something for her dinner.

This system repeated itself for another couple of weeks before things began to get too much. Kidnappings of Y/n, accusations of Klaus wanting the child to be used to create hybrids, wars between Marcel and Klaus and finally they were moved into the compound. Y/n felt like she was being eaten alive nearly every day. Each of the vampires watched her like a hawk, some with fear of what Klaus would do to them if they went near her, some with disgust that she was carrying a monster of a baby.

Once she began showing, Klaus was much more attentive. Even though the bump was small, it was there. That was enough to spark something inside him, paternal instincts if you will.

He wanted to look after Y/n, be the one she looked to when something went wrong. But taht was the problem, too much was going wrong. Her life and everyone else’s lives were put in danger far too often. She was stressed all of the time and upset almost always.

Klaus spent as much time as he could with her, keeping her snuggled against him while he rest his hand on her tummy and kissed her temple.

“It’s all going to be much better once this one’s born, I promise you my darling” he told her and she believed him, she really did. She would sit and listen to all the ideas he had, the nursery designs and the name possibilities. Sometimes they would talk about what the baby would look like, whose eyes they’re hold have, hair colour and whatnot.

Time seemed to float away when they imagine their child, it was just them. For a moment Klaus would feel human, he would feel warm and he felt love. Love for the baby, and love for Y/n.

He knew how she worked now. He knew when she was hungry and he knew exactly what she craved, he knew when she was feeling affectionate. For once in his life he was happy to hug someone, to dance with her and laugh. He knew when she was crying just because of her hormones or if something had happened.

But the cry he heard that evening was one he would not forget.

He remembers Marcel slamming the door shut behind them all. And then the echo of a broken sob reaching each Mikaelson. Elijah and Rebekah looked towards each other while Marcel frowned. Klaus knew in that instant that something was terribly wrong and so did the others.

And just like that, they were all upstairs. Klaus was breaking through the locked door of her room and others hurriedly followed. Silence overtook them all as they saw her sat on the carpet, dark red staining her thighs and sticking her dress to her. Her face was in her hands as another sob left her.

Rebekah’s hand flew to her mouth and Marcel ushered her out to give Y/n some space.

Klaus was already on his knees and lifting her up “no no no no” he whispered, his eyes watering and throat closing “no it’s okay, it’s okay” he repeated, holding her to his chest.

Elijah looked down as he listened to a non-existent heart beat. Without a word he crouched down beside Niklaus, a hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of Y/n’s head.

Klaus buried his nose into her head as tears flowed down his face. He listened to her cries and Elijah’s gentle voice as he tried to calm her down.

After a while Elijah left to inform Rebekah of what she already knew. They both tried to speak to Klaus, to have him stand up or let her go so they could have her cleaned but he just stayed frozen. Y/n had cried herself unconscious and was barely aware of anything around her, not that she could care any longer.

“You can’t let her wake up covered in blood” Elijah whispered. Klaus sniffled as he slowly lifted his head. Both eyes had pink rings around them and his rose had a rosey glow.

“How could this happen?” He uttered and Rebekah had to step outside to stop herself from crying in-front of him. “She’s so far along” he muttered confused and Elijah nodded

“I know…I’m sorry” he whispered and Klaus wiped his eyes. “It’s all going to be okay, you’ll get through this. None of us are going to leave you alone through this” he tells him firmly but the look in Klaus’s eyes were so distant that Elijah knew he hadn’t heard a word

“She’ll have to deliver it” he mumbled emotionlessly and Elijah’s expression went solemn. Klaus tightened his hold on her as he rested himself over and over in his head.

Elijah silently encouraged Niklaus to stand with Y/n, they carried her to the bathroom where they wiped her thighs clean. She woke halfway through but had nothing to say or do. Klaus tried to speak to her but his voice failed him each time and so Rebekah pushed through and spoke to her instead.

They lowered her into the freshly ran bath and gently cleaned her over. Rebekah and Klaus dressed her as though she were a helpless doll before putting her into Klaus’s bed.

Elijah rang the doctors to bring her in the next day and they all sat within the room where she lay.

Y/n had assumed after that day that they wouldn’t have her around any longer after she had to have the remains of their baby removed. Thought that they would kill her maybe. But instead they kept her so close from then on.

Marcel and his vampires were much kinder, softer. Klaus didn’t care to be ‘king’ and battles were dismissed instead of discussed. Enemies ignores rather than demolished.

It was a quiet life.

She slept in Klaus’s bed each night, curling to his chest and clutching her flat stomach. Each morning he would kiss her face to wake her and apologise for the day to come. He tried to keep her fed the best he could and often bathed with her. In the back of his mind he was treating her how he would have treated their baby.

Holding her, loving her, feeding her, washing her, putting her to bed and carrying her wherever he went.

Elijah and Rebekah could clearly see it happening but neither of them would say anything after seeing the heartbreak of each of their faces.

Marcel however, eventually snapped and told Klaus straight that he couldn’t baby y/n every second of the day.

It resulted in arguments and fights, mental and physical until Klaus couldn’t handle it and broke down into tears. That night Y/n held him instead, stroked his hair and whispered soft phrases to him.

They learnt to lean on each other, care for one another. As time passed by everything slowly became easier, they baby was never forgotten but now a much happier memory rather than a sad one.

The Mikaelsons had been living a rather ‘normal’ life since everything. It was odd to begin with but it was lovely in a way. Rebekah had Marcel, Elijah learnt it was okay to let go a little now that Y/n was there to be with Klaus and Kol was happy with Davina. Everyone was doing well.

But then Y/n got pregnant again. Something that was supposed to be good now terrified her.

Rebekah and Davina tried to convince her it was a great miracle, Elijah and Klaus were insisting on not overwhelming her with everything and she was just petrified.

Klaus was happy. He saw this as another chance, a godshot if you will. But he understood why y/n didn’t want this, he had very similar thoughts and fears to her. Klaus could never know the exact feelings she had when she went through that, the pain, anger, confusion, guilt, he would never know that she blamed herself for so long for losing their child. So he didn’t truly understand her but he tried to. And when she begged him to just abort it so that it wouldn’t happen again he booked her the appointment. He drove her there, held her hand in the waiting room but when her name was called she wouldn’t get up.

“Love?” He whispered, glancing to the doctor who was looking around the room repeating her name “sweetheart?” He murmured softly, sliding off his seat to squat in front of her. She stared straight through him to the floor until the doctor gave up and went back to her room and only then y/n stood, grabbing Klaus’s hand and walking back to the car.

He said little to nothing but kissed the side of her head gently and promised her that this time would be different. Nobody spoke at home, but they were all mentally cheering when Klaus gave them a little smile and took Y/n back upstairs to their room.

He followed her into their bed despite it being mid afternoon and pressed his face to her neck. Y/n turned her head and kisses his lips gently making he hum and smile

“I don’t want it to be a big deal” she whispered and he nodded

“I know” he uttered, hovering over her “just know that I’m happy with this decision but I only what this for us if it’s what you want. Don’t put yourself through anything okay?” He cupped her face as he spoke to her, firmly but softly.

“I won’t…I just…I really want this, I do. I’m just scared…”

“I won’t let you hurt again” he promised and she tried her best to believe him.

He could sense her worry all throughout the pregnancy, the fear and the pain hitting at her constantly. He tried his very best to soothe her, and to help her look at the future rather than panic over the past.

And then when she gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby, none of those worries mattered. She held their bundle of light close to her chest at all times, night and day.

Klaus grew jealous fast which made her laugh and reluctantly share their child. They would lay with their little one in between them, listening to the babbling and clapping.

Neither of them realised the amount of love they would feel, for their child and for each other. This baby sealed them together, promised them both an eternity of happiness and peace.

Family, and somewhere to always call home.

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razorblade180 · 2 months ago

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Capturing the Spark

Weiss:*peeks into music room* Summer, sweetie? I can’t help notice you’re playing the same note for like…ten minutes.

Summer: *plucking string* I’ve reach creative bankruptcy.

Weiss:You’re sixteen. There’s something in there.

Summer:Nothing good.

She points at a decently sized pile of paper on the floor. Weiss takes a look at one and realizes it’s a whole song.

Weiss:Are these originals!? Why are they on the floor!?

Summer:I don’t like how they came out. Weeks and months of revising but they feel mediocre.

Weiss:Says you. A single opinion from a creator is damning in any art form. I could’ve listened.

Summer:You would’ve been too nice and supportive.

Weiss:Summer, I told your father he looked fat in the first tux he chose for our wedding. I will never willingly let you embarrass yourself in front of people.

Summer:…There’s been talk on the radio about my recent songs and concerts. People are saying I’m losing my spark, and they aren’t wrong if I’m being honest. Things feel…different.

Weiss:Could it be because you’re getting healthy?

Summer:Pfft, now you’re making me sound ridiculous. Yes, that’s exactly it. Being on stage feels weird now that I’m not fighting for my life. Is that wrong?

Weiss:Little bit, but I get it. Your life was on the line. Adrenaline was at an all time high.

Summer:Exactly! My body was cold and hot. I had to focus on staying myself while thousands cheered my name and had zero clue I was basically on a battlefield! Now I’m just performing.

Weiss:Haha, and that’s a bad thing? It’s gonna be an adjustment but you still have that spark. You don’t need your life on the line to bring it out. You also need to treat these songs better.

Summer:Mom, they’re garbage. My fans don’t come for me for darker stuff anyways.

Weiss:They are fruits of labor. Sure not all of them will be perfect, but not every song you make will be a hit and don’t have to be. Treat these like your puppy. Don’t throw them away because they’re a little all over the place.

Summer:Where is he right now?

Weiss:Bothering Jaune. Anyways, fuck your haters.

Summer:Wow!

Weiss:I mean it! You are the singer! You can’t make people like your music but you change the audience that fills your seats. They’re called fans because they help make you burn bright.

Summer:….

Weiss:The way I see it, you can change up your style and genre to better capture and represent the raw feelings that give you the spark, or bask in the irony of a crowd that loves you, but can’t fathom the real weight of your performance.

Summer:You’ve done that too!?

Weiss:I’ve written so many songs that come from my feelings being around my abusive father and most people don’t have a clue. We may be the entertainment at a concert, but we both know how easy it is to see the crowd as the real fools.

Summer:Yet when I talk like this, therapy gets mentioned.

Weiss:Hey, I’ve been to it many times. I know exactly who I am, and you will too. One day at a time. You’re not creatively bankrupt. You’re just not cashing in all the ideas you have.

And with that nugget of wisdom, Weiss kisses her daughter on the forehead before leaving her to think on it.

Summer:(Damn it. She’s gonna feel so proud about that line.) *grabs paper*……

xxxxxx

Weiss:*walking down stairs* I’m back. How’s the puppy?

Jaune:*holding him up* Air jail. Did you solve the one note wonder?

Weiss:Yeah, but it’s gonna get louder in sec-

🎶VVVVVRRRREEEERRRRR🎶

Both of them looked up as the sound of a distorted and almost wailing guitar started singing wildly. Jaune looked at his wife to see her casually head banging with a smug face. They weren’t even sure if the notes lead to something or if their daughter was simply going for it.

Weiss:It’s been awhile since I heard a eulogy like this.

Jaune:A eulogy?

Weiss:Can’t you hear it? It’s for the death of a pop star as we know her.

#rwby #rwbabies #summer schnee #weiss schnee #jaune arc #rwby whiteknight #rwby twin snowflakes

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astraystayyh · 8 months ago

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this is a brainrot induced by the lovely @lino-nyangi saying that hyunjin would draw your henna for you ;-;-; this is also for all my homesick people because hyunjin would SO make efforts to understand ur culture and love u better. enjoy reading and happy eid again hehe <3

homesickness is a ruthless guest.

it comes at announced times, suddenly barging into your house and tearing away the warmth you’ve painstakingly guarded, worn hands and battered palms— bleeding wounds that can only be healed at home.

it leaves you dazed in its wake, surrounded by barren walls and a bed that doesn’t feel like your own, adrift in an endless sea, with no shore in sight.

its presence looms heavier during holidays, when visions of what could have been dance tantalizingly before your eyes—you amidst laughter and chatter that speaks to your inner child. but instead, you are consumed by a terrible ache, bones longing for an unattainable home and its traditions.

these are the thoughts hyunjin finds you drowning in, head buried deep into your pillow in a futile attempt to disappear completely— you hope the universe would mistake you for an inanimate object and pass your sadness to an unsuspecting soul.

your boyfriend just got out of his shower, late into the night, droplets of water running down his neck, tracing the contours of his bluish veins. a cloud of vanilla and wood follows him around as he walks over to your bed, clad in a plain white shirt and a pair of black shorts. your favorite.

“hi,” he grins and the weight in your heart dissolves a bit before the sun.

“hey baby—” your words are cut off as he slides his arms underneath your legs, effortlessly picking you up bridal style.

“what are you doing?” you giggle, entwining your hands behind his neck, a gesture as natural as a waterfall current.

“carrying my princess.”

“and where to?”

“you’ll see,” he smiles secretly as he pushes open the door to his art studio. his body shields your view of the inside, not that you dare look anywhere but his angelic face— you are but a captive to the softening of his eyes, filled with unspoken adoration, for you.

he brushes the faintest kiss against your forehead, before lowering you to the ground, stepping aside quietly.

“what’s this?” you ask bewildered, as your eyes take in the new addition to his studio— a small white table with two tiny chairs on opposite sides of it, and on its surface, cinnamon candles and rose petals. but your eyes remain elsewhere, drawn to the sight of a syringe and near it, a very familiar henna paste.

“i knew you were bummed because you wouldn’t be able to put on henna,” he inches closer to you, placing his chin on the small of your shoulder. “so, i practiced.”

the breath refuses to escape your lungs, your response materializing into ropes wrapping around your throat. your next question is tinted with a child-like curiosity, but you must hear the answer stumbling from his lips.

“for me?” you say. you made time, for me? he hears.

“of course, i’d do anything for you,” he says earnestly, simply, placing a small kiss on your erratic pulse, the one that’s right beneath your jaw. your heart stops then resumes its course— it does not wish to part from your body and leave hyunjin behind.

“so,” he clears his throat, pulling you gently to your seat. “i had to do extensive research. i kept looking up designs but everything looked so cute so i asked your mom which one you’d love best.”

he lights up the candles one by one. their warmth finds a singular home within your cold soul.

“and i couldn’t let you know i was doing this, so i kept going to chan’s dorm to practice,” he fills up the syringe naturally, squeezing a bit of henna into a napkin to test it out.

“but then i needed a real life model,” he grabs your hand gently, placing it atop his warm, large palm. “so, i convinced changbin to model for me. and i had to give up terrible terrible things to get him to agree,” he whispers in horror, and you giggle, your laughter winning before your tears.

“he actually really liked it,” he smiles softly, his eyes never parting from your hand, “so i kept trying other designs on all the boys. they just wiped them quickly after so it wouldn’t stain,” he explains and you feel the knot in your throat tighten even more— it twists and twists and with it so does your heart.

it’s quiet after that, as hyunjin’s eyebrows knit together in utter concentration, as though tasked with protecting a fragile vase amidst a terrible earthquake.

he’s a vision of love as he draws delicate flower patterns on the canvas of your hand. as his tongue peeks out to press against his cheek in concentration, making sure every petal is perfectly crafted.

he’s a vision of home as his brows furrow into that distinctive expression of disdain he reserves for everything that falls short of his standards. his eyes are apologetic as they flee to yours before he quickly wipes away the design, starting over yet again.

hyunjin did not intuitively fit into your culture. he wasn’t a pair of gloves perfectly stitched after your fingers and everything they carried from back home.

but he has always tried to understand— when he scoured the city to find the best restaurant serving your native cuisine, when he spoke sentences in your language that he learned in secret. and although his tongue breaks, he tries, again and again, to understand, to get closer to you, to bridge gaps created by a past he did not exist in, so he’d know you better in a future he chose to love.

“do you like it?” he asks, and it is the nervous look on his face that breaks you— the way he fiddles with his lower lip, cheeks coated in pink, head tilting slightly to press against his shoulder blade.

your tears fall like a torrent as your free hand cradles his face, the kiss is salty as you move your lips against his own. “thank you, my angel. you are my home.”

he’d ask you again if you liked it, when he’s done drying your tears, skillfully mending the fractures in your heart. you’d say yes as your eyes take in the intricate flowers, the sheer artistry that can only spill from a soul as talented as his own.

you’ll like it more the next morning when you’ll wake up to a disheveled hyunjin, eyes puffy chasing away a clinging sleep to inspect your henna and see if it remained intact. you’ll love it when his lips will brush delicately against your palm, imprinting kisses across every inch of your tatted skin.

you’ll love it even more when he’ll draw your henna the night of your wedding, skillfully hiding his initials within the scattered petals, the very way you carry his name eternally within the chambers of your heart.

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #wrote this while hiding from my family AKSJJDJD please enjoy 😭😭😭

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livingsspecter · 4 months ago

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𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕘𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕍𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣: 𝙳𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 ☕︎

CW: Gender neutral reader, pure fluff with a little bit of angst! Hope you like it 🖤 !!

✧ Living alongside Gregory is like watching a cat warm up to you slowly, he will start interacting more, showing you his art and explaining them in detail (trusting that you won't make fun of it)

✧ At first, he will be a bit anxious about showing his face without makeup and being without his hood since they're both like a protective layer for him. But, little by little he will notice that you if you stare at him, it's to admire his beauty, and not because you're picking apart his features

✧ He is a quiet and pleasant company, always has a random comment here and there that might be entertaining or a little off-pocket (probably both)

✧ He will be happy to help with chores, even though he might not have a lot of experience (considering he is a rich kid and probably had a maid do it for him lol)

✧ Definitely more active in the night, he will like to stare out of the window while drinking a cup of tea, observing how the sky changes its hue as the time goes on, especially when it's raining, rain comforts him

✧ In dark stormy nights, before you sleep— he’ll shine a flashlight on his face and tell you horror stories, smirking when you shriek at a particular grim moment

✧ He is mostly dressed in hoodies, sweaters and sweatpants, even though he values style, comfort is also a must for him

✧ Once he warms up to you, he will let you paint his nails while ranting about the weights of his job as prefect, and you'll be happy to comfort him

✧ In the summer, he is way more vocal since the weather feels like death to him, he will feel dizzy when he gets home after being out in the sun for hours and sometimes you worry that he will faint right in front of you. Thankfully, he has you to check up on him

✧ Alternatively, winter and autumn (especially, since he loves Halloween) are his favorites, since he can wear his favorite outfits that cover more of his body and the weather is not aggravating to him. It's often that you'll see him wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito while drawing— quite a cute scene

✧ You take care of him and check up on him a lot because of his weak constitution. But, when you're the one feeling sick, he is way more worried than you, fretting about how you need to eat well and rest. He might even take a day off school to take care of you

✧ The funniest part of the day is when he walks behind you with light steps, not even making any effort in spooking you (a common occurrence)..only to wrap his cold hands around your waist, and you can notice that he is smiling from the way his usual monotone tone changes

✧ He will definitely leave little doodles around on post-its and on the refrigerator, either to just joke around, show a new doodle or just reminders

✧ Unfortunately, nightmares are a common occurrence for him and sometimes he will wake up sobbing. He will try telling you he is okay and that it’s nothing— but once you wrap your arms around him, you can feel him slowly hug back, clutching on you like you're his lifeline as the tears fall down on the crook of your arm

✧ Life with him is comfortable, fun and full of surprises, even though he is quiet, he will always listen to your problems and give good advice (particularly blunt ones). He is someone you can count on during tough times, even if he doesn't show it in his face, it's clear he truly loves you

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#gregory violet #black butler #gregory violet x reader #fluff #headcanons

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lefetellc · 7 months ago

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Eerie Dating other Eris-Sonas :3

Okay so after the first round of dating, I think it's time we get some sonas who get a glimpse of a submissive-like Eerie (for varying reasons) Also, there isn't much art here; I did plan to draw them with Eerie, but I lost energy from so much Eerie lol

With the intro over, let the Eris games... begin!

First is Lee by @0x0y0z0

Instead of highschool, Eerie meets Lee at the start of college

I imagine that instead of Eerie approaching first, it would be Lee

Lee is either extremely forward or always beating around the bush because of his excessive awkwardness

Now, the reason Lee would confess to Eerie could be for differing reasons

One could be that Lee wanted to enjoy a more extroverted-life and get over his extreme awkwardness

Another could be that Lee is interested in Eerie's... eerie behavior. Eerie is always walking around college with a thick backpack and a constant aroma of gunpowder from him. For those reasons, Lee concluded that Eerie was secretly carrying guns around school

Either way, Eerie would welcome Lee with open arms and a cheery :3 smile

To Eerie, Lee was a loner with a dark aesthetic. And if you know anything about Eerie, you'd know he loves that dark theme

Eerie would talk to Lee about joining his friend group after they talk a bit more, probably in passing through classes

When Lee reluctantly agrees, Eerie excitedly bring him to meet Villa, Desmond, and Seph

Judging from everyone's attitude, everyone would accept Lee into the friend group

Villa and Desmond will have their suspicions

Eerie has brought certain... people to school. And they'd all leave with that familiar toxic, smoke-like scent Eerie carried.

After hanging out more; weekdays, weekends, and pretty much any free hour, Eerie would buddy up with Lee

Eerie loved hanging out with such a quiet loner. In comparison to Milo (who isn't in this story) Milo is also a loser like Lee in terms of awkwardness, but what Lee has over Milo is style

It's one of the only reasons Eerie keeps Lee around

Eerie enjoys touching and messing with Lee's hair and clothes. Pocketing buttons and photos taken to laugh at later with his other 'friends'

When Eerie got too close and intimate with Lee, Lee would shoot him a deathly gaze and force Eerie off

The sudden change would excite Eerie, prompting him to hit and whisper in Lee's ear

Similar to other sonas, Eerie wanted to incite something in Lee so he'd do something drastic and eye-catching

After probing and picking at Lee's skin for a whole year, he'd crack and finally pin Eerie down.

Eerie gulps, feeling his heart race at the shorter boy on top of him

The cold tiles beneath his back didn't ease his heart, and oh god, he loved it

He loved every second of having that excitement when Lee finally cracked and bared his teeth

This is how their relationship goes. Eerie would constantly step on Lee's coattails to get him to dominate Eerie again-- get his heart pumping more and more

Once Lee gets used to the typical tricks and plays, Eerie steps up his teasing to abusive levels

Their toxic relationship probably 'ends' with Lee dramatically hurting Eerie so the tall man would be sent to the hospital

But even then, Eerie would only run back again only this time with actual guns and a hot fighting spirit to go again. Eerie wants to prolong that adrenaline rush as long as possible.

Eerie sees Lee as a game to give him more excitement, similar to those life-or-death horror movies where the stakes are high.

He won't be letting Lee go anytime soon, as much as he punches or hurts Eerie back

Next is Portia by @emipotato :3

Similar to Eerie, Portia would be holed up inside her house all day and night.

Eerie found that interesting: so other parents rob kids of their childhood, huh?

He'd feel a small level of connection with Portia, but he'd never outwardly approach her because she wasn't interesting *enough*

It was in middle school that Eerie caught Portia stalking him; he felt grossed out but mildly intrigued. What made her do such a thing?

That was all he felt in middle school; he never let Portia know he was keeping tabs on her

In High school is when Eerie finally let himself be free. He'd bring guns to school and vibrate with excitement every time people curiously stepped closer to his bag.

Nobody knew he had such things inside his bag; his mom and dad didn't know either, even though they were the ones who bought the equipment

On an especially cold day, Eerie left his p.e clothes in his bookbag and opted to stay in his regular outfit

When the period finally ended, he returned to his bag and found the entire thing a mess. The magazine which was already full of bullets was missing one. He knew; he counted each of them every night with joy

His clothes were messed with aswell; there were muddy marks and ruffles in his original perfectly folded unfirom.

He eyed the students around; who could've touched it? Various kids played on the field and got themselves dirty from the mud

After all, it had rained yesterday

He scowled and furiously demanded the person who did it to stand up; he didn't talk about his gun, but people were still firghtened

He noted how nobody stand up

The following night, he made sure every student was innocent by telling his 'friends' to keep a watchful eye on them. If they complied properly, he'd let them shoot a few shots at his shooting range at his house

And complied they did; he got reports from each guy telling him how their target's bags were empty of the bullet. None of them had dirty hands either.

He was even more infuriated - so much that he was tempted to shoot one of his friends right then and there- but he held back and gave them his catty smile.

"I want you to fucking think; use that dumbass brain of yours for once and understand what I'm saying. Find the stupid asshole who stole my bullet and bring them to me or else I'll have your head on the news tomorrow."

His friends nodded weakly, going their separate ways. Originally, they planned to coordinate a random student to put the blame on; that was until a mysterious girl stepped up from the shadows

She confessed: "I did it"

They looked dumbfounded. It was really that easy?

They looked at her skeptically. One of the boys recognized her as that sickly kid who always arrived late from school with a dcotor's note. Not to mention the terrible earthy smell coming from her.

Nevertheless, they brought her back to Eerie.

Eerie raised a brow, interested in why an ugly girl like her would do such a thing.

However, it was when it clicked; the earthy smell coming from her came from the rain that came down yesterday. That meant she was outside; for what reason? Only Eerie could answer

Outside his window the previous night, he saw her standing in the rain outside his window.

He couldn't deny that her desperation was amusing. Not exciting, but amusing. Like a joke you'd have when you're breaking up the silence

Eerie decided that he'd let her hang around. Their relationship would be very ambiguous, since Eerie never told anyone about them officially dating. In fact, you could say it was a one-sided relationship

Eerie didn't bother texting Portia back; he didn't gift her anything nor did he comfort her when she got sick from waiting in the rain weather

Eerie made her wait; waiting and waiting until college when he finally told her to fuck off.

Eerie thought she was amusing, but now she was just a clown wearing a tatterd old uniform. The joke wasn't funny anymore and Eerie was finally letting his emotions out.

His memory is very blurry after that.

Eerie couldn't recall much other than Portia saying how he needed to get his mind straight

After that, Eerie found himself being isolated in a basement (Typical Yandere behavior perhaps?)

Eerie would remain in that basement for a year, being restless and whining about 'entertainment' and how 'disgusting and boring' everything was.

Portia would have him inside her basement for however long she wanted; the darkness would corrode at Eerie's will at some point, hopefully

Over that timespan, Portia would dote on Eerie and give him love and affection so she'd be seen as more of a romantic partner for him rather than a clown

This may be ooc for Portia, but for her this was her breaking point. She'd been ignored for so long, and after getting a small glimpse of a romantic life with Eerie, she couldn't let go of it

That's where their relationship ends or rather begins, in Portia's eyes

Eerie is locked up and bound inside her basement, surrendered to her continuous methods of swaying him

It's unknown if he actually ever submits, but he's very close to. The unbearing loneliness makes him crave something, anything exciting

Portia was his only entertainment in that isolation

In the end, Eerie forever sees Portia as entertainment or some gag to laugh at. I doubt Portia will ever pursue a real relationship with Eerie.

This marks the end of Eerie dating pt2!

Hopefully I can get through some more Eris-sonas, but who knows *shrug*

#fan oc #oc #perfectlovevn #oc x oc #perfect love vn

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gh-0-stcup · 1 year ago

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Random list of things that bug me with portrayals of the Fanged Four in many fics:

Drusilla looking down on Spike/him not being "enough of a demon" for her.

Drusilla was thrilled with how Spike turned out. Seriously, look at their flashback scenes again - she adored him from the moment she set eyes on William. There are few moments of disapproval. When those happen she just looks at him with confusion and lets him get on with whatever he's doing.

Darla being (just) a materialistic ice queen. Super cold, barely any emotion outside of when there's torture or jewels involved.

Despite being very scornful of humans and sentiment, Darla was incredibly passionate and expressive. She was one of the most vibrant members of their family. This gal loved life. She could be very cold, but she was also often filled with emotion - she expressed joy, rage, sadness, even nurturing on occasion.

Darla blindly following along with Angelus or entirely letting him run the show. Often portrayed as her being too stupid/vapid to lead.

Darla was Angelus' sire. She taught him how to be who he was. She guided him along until he was able to stand on his own two feet. She was opinionated and had no problem leaving or killing him if he stepped out of line. Hell, she'd betray him just to add a bit of excitement to their lives.

The thing is, Angelus and Darla were partners. It may sometimes seem like one was letting the other have control, but their desires were almost always in sync. There didn't need to be a leader between the two of them because they were largely on the same page. That's why their relationship lasted as long as it did. I think this is one of the biggest things that gets neglected in fanfic.

Darla being less of a sadist than Angelus.

Darla was every bit as hungry as Angelus was. She egged him on, he came up with increasingly horrible forms of torture to entertain them both. It's not an accident that Valentine's Day was a very special holiday for Angelus.

Darla and Angelus being nothing but abusers to Drusilla and Spike.

There was friction between all members of the family at times. All were also shown to have some fondness for each other. Darla and Drusilla ended up being very close, as were Spike and Angelus.

Angelus (and sometimes Darla) despising everything about humanity and caring about nothing but hunting.

Angelus canonically had a good amount of appreciation for the finer things humans had created. He disliked how the Order of Aurelius lived apart from humanity in sewers, only going up to feed. He lured Darla away from the Master by promising her a better way of life, one where she could actually live.

Angelus cried at the ballet. He loved art, music, and having a good time. The two traveled the world. He's fluent in at least 10 languages, implying he had an interest in being able to communicate with people. Angelus and Darla were the OG party couple, committed to living their lives to the fullest.

Spike being disgusted by violence or having a genuine conscience pre-chip.

This shouldn't even need to be elaborated on imo. Sure, he was less into sadism than the others. But the idea that he had a shred of moral outrage over anything the other 3 did is ridiculous to me. This is the guy who gleefully hired a pedophile to torture Angelus.

Imo differences in his killing style isn't about morals or having more humanity, it's about what interests him. Like how some humans are super into football and others are like, "Ew, why? Sounds boring af."

Spike not enjoying Dru getting rough in the bedroom.

He is canonically a masochist.

#there's more but i'm tired #btvs #ats #fanged four #spike #drusilla #angelus #darla

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kenphobia · 2 years ago

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Hellooo, therapy is expensive but reading your stories about silly puppets it's free.

So, I was wondering if I could ask for some imagines of Wally Darling (yeah, again, sorry 😭) with a s/o whose love language is giving gifts? Like, they love to shower Wally (and their other friends) in all kind of gifts no matter the time or place.

I hope that wasn't too confusing and I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

KINDERGARDEN GAMES!

"T-a-n-g-a ka talaga, Wally." "... What—"

summary. wally is a puppet who loves his neighbors equally and cherishes them in many ways. but when his lover does gift giving more than him, he gets a bit competitive. ( headcanons / 0.9k wc / read end notes )

contents. general fluff, straight up romantic dynamic, implied filipino!wally, bits of playful Wally slander ( nsfw blogs dni )

✦ It started simple, nothing too big or fancy. When you brough him those oil pastels Wally had been eying for a while, he couldn't help but feel flustered. It's not like he haven't received gifts before, few of his neighbors love to give him little presents too, but it was different when it comes to you.

✦ Of course, he accepts with a smile and a slightly flushed face.

"Thanks, (Name)! I really, really appreciate this." Wally paused, switching his gaze from the oil pastels to you in a nervous manner. "I, um, I'll make sure to make great use of it."

You smiled, patting his hair carefully as to not accidentally deform the pompadour he spent half an hour styling and 5 whole bottles of glue. "Well, I'm glad you liked it! I have to go now though, Sally needs me with setting up her stage for tomorrow's play. See you later, Walls!"

Wally waved you goodbye, watching you leave and your figure getting farther and farther, completely disappearing as you turned a corner. He finally focused his gaze to the box in his hands, a gentle smile caressed his face.

For a short moment, He remembered how your eyes twinkled and reflected the warm light. Wally's gaze softened, humming as he went inside his house. He has an idea what to do using the oil pastels you gave him.

✦ It was sweet, Wally would say, but he wouldn't admit how he had dreames of the whole thing several times. Or well, daydreamed since he doesn't sleep. Home had a couple of incidents and scolding Wally for letting his paintbrush go and getting paint on the carpet.

✦ Wally didn't think much of it though, but appreciated it finely. That is until he received some homemade mint chocolate cookies at his doorstep. Eddie had given it to him, informing him that it came from no other than the lovely you.

✦ (Wally doesn't miss Eddie side-eying though. Sadly, not everyone can appreciate mint chocolate like Wally does.)

✦ It didn't just stop there, no, why would it? From cookies to handcrafted beaded jewelry of his favorite colors to little letters and poems to cute little doodles of you and him being pinned on his fridge everyday— Your gifts were endless and Wally wonders how could you make so much in just a span of an hour.

✦ He doesn't have the right to judge you after making multiple portraits of you and sending some of them immediately to your home. It was a lot, but after all of you wonderous gifts that kept him awake and thinking at every hour, your front porch became bombarded with many paintings.

✦ Wally started doing art in other ways too. Pottery, watercolour, jewelries, etc. He even sent a whole basket of (definitely not stolen) apples to your door! The whole gift giving suddenly became a war between who could show their affection more than the other.

✦ Eddie had to intervene because he had been delivering gifts to both your houses every single day. Doesn't bother Wally though, it gives him the advantage of simply entering your home with a key he secretly copied and stuff all of his heartfelt gifts.

✦ You did caught him one time in your room, hanging up pictures of you, some of them were mainly focused on your eyes. You aren't exactly sure how to feel about it, both the paintings and the crime he had just committed.

Arriving to your humble abode, you furrowed your brows upon finding the front door unlocked. You quickly entered inside, trying your best at staying quiet while you put your stuff down on the sofa and wanderes around your home for the intruder.

The neighborhood isn't exactly a crime-filled place, but you still can't shake off the feeling of dread bubbling in your stomach. You gripped the house keys in your hands so firmly that you swear the plastic could cut through your palm.

You neared your room, breath hitching at the sound of shuffling and murmuring. You squinted through the darkness, seeing your bedroom door wide open and the lights turned on. Quickly, you rushed closer and hoped that the intruder wouldn't hear your panicked steps.

"Oh... That wouldn't work at all. Let's try this position." A voice suddenly pierced through the silence. It was soft, warm and awfully familiar that it made bits of your dread disappear slowly.

You leaned against the wall, turning your head and peeking from the doorway. Immediately, you locked your eyes at a portrait of you sitting idly on your bed and then to the blue cardigan the stranger was wearing.

Wait a second, That's not a stranger. No, that's—!

"Wally? What are you doing here?" You voiced out, walking in as your boyfriend turned to face you. His eyes wide in surprise, nearly dropping the painting. You found yourself deadpanning at what was on the canvas, it was a painting of you and Wally unsurprisingly.

Wally smiled, albeit nervously. "O-Oh, *Mahal! You're home earlier than I expected."

You hardened your gaze, squinting at his form as you crossed your arms. "Wally, why are you in my house?"

"Well, you see, Mahal..." Wally began, putting down the painting and making it lean on the wall. "I— I will explain it to you tomorrow. Byee!"

You didn't have a chance to say anything before Wally ran up to your window and jumping out, breaking plastic glass and leaving your room in a state of disaster.

That noseless bastard.

notes. did i completely forgot abt the other neighbors? yes. do i regret it? no. sorry, howdy 😔 but yaya!!! another wally fic, turned out a bit shorter than I like and more crackshippy but that's fineee

i hope you like it tho!!! this was fun to make and i rlly tried racking my brain for any creative juice.

inbox is always open, so come on by again for more wally slander /lh

*mahal - love in tagalog

#writing log!#welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader

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aprofessionalwithoutstandards · 4 months ago

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medic for the ask game? Alternatively, the eyelanded

I CANNOT answer all these damn questions about a talking sword you're getting Medic

favorite thing about them He's also just HILARIOUS like he's really really really funny and fun to watch and think about. His voice performance is so good he has so many top-tier funny moments. Also titties

least favorite thing about them Absolute fucking nightmare to play, which makes every single Medic main, yes, even you, an absolutely insufferable person

favorite line Where do I even fucking start with this guy. Who's ready to be a mother?

brOTP Now I don't think they would "hang out" but I think Medic would be like the Joker for the Administrator. Like Wheatley and Glados if Wheatley were smarter and also German instead of British. He would love pissing her off so much and that's funny. I also think he's great at hanging out with the whole team as a group, it balances out his energy a bit more and he's not as. yknow. Medic. as he can be one-on-one

OTP Sniper fucked that old man

nOTP Mediscout is boringgggg I'm so sorry it's BORING. There are ways to do it that I think can be fun but mostly it's just boring. I'm also finding engiemedic more and more boring the more time I spend here but you know. It's whatever

random headcanon Medic cannot read. More specifically, he's probably dyslexic, and has trouble with reading in any language. Also I generally write him as vaguely trilingual (German, Yiddish, and English) so that was probably a struggle for him, and I think he confuses the vocabulary and grammar of all three languages together a lot. But he's good at math

unpopular opinion Medic actually likes people. He's actually friends with the people on his team and they like him back. He's "weird" for sure, and he's definitely a sadist, but it's tf2 so that doesn't really matter and he's mostly just an Eccentric Scientist everyone finds weirdly charming in his own little way. The implications are astounding

song i associate with them Bubblegum Bitch dadada dadada

favorite picture of them

This one is just really top tier. I don't love this comic's art style and it's not my favorite way he's ever been drawn but it's just so fucking funny. He's even kinda doing the nerd finger point in this one

[ID: A Cold Day in Hell comic screenshot of Medic running through a door, a stack of papers in his arms, saying "Wait! Are we leaving? What about the baboon uteruses?" End ID]

#ask #anon #tf2 #team fortress 2 #medic #medic tf2 #tf2 medic

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chaosfairy18 · 3 months ago

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me, knowing you like 92sies better, considering asking you to draw or yap about yet another livesies character

what of tumbler and skittery? hc and/or writing and/or just yapping

You can also ask me livesies/uksies things but as you know I am much less knowledgeable on them and can't really say much 😅

But! Skittery and Tumbler. The brothers ever (related or not, it doesn't matter).

I did two redraws of things from the very end of the movie after the strike is settled with them because they are too cute <3

Tried a bit more sticker-style to not have to shade much haha

So in my AUs they are usually related and actually brothers, but I can also just see Tumbles looking at Skittery and going "that one!" and adopting him. Just like cats sometimes adopt their owners instead of the other way around.

Especially when they're blood brothers Skittery sees the tiny little thing that is Tumbler when he's born (they have at least 5 or more years difference in age in my mind, in canon probably more like 7) and knows at first glance: this is my little brother, I'll protect him with my life.

In canon era that also means that when his father gets worse and worse and his mother was hospitalized for "hysteria and schizophrenic behaviour" that he just runs and doesn't look back, even if Tumbler might only be two or three years old at that time. Tumbler has been in the lodge almost since he can remember and even Skittery is there pretty early and Kloppman only lets them pay for one bed, at least for a few years. (Not like Tumbler takes up a lot of space)

Skittery does fear he's also being a bit like his mom (always seeing things, being skittish, waking up in cold sweat) and Tumbler, even if he doesn't remember any of that, sometimes worries too, just because his big brother does. He's followed Skittery around every day for selling until some of the other boys also got close to them and even if Skittery isn't as happy to leave him with others, he does so with the people he trusts (which aren't a lot)

In mine and Mack's modern AU we have a five year age gap for them and they are just adorable together, trust me. But also Tumbler hangs on his big brother's sleeve a lot, just wanting to be close to him (to be protected by him)

I think I shouldn't talk too much more right now (maybe in a reply) but it's definitely a thing.

Hope you're happy with this art and little rant!!

#newsies #92sies #skittery newsies #tumbler newsies #skittery #my art #brothers

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sapphire-heart-tippy · 4 months ago

Text

Sugar Crash Void Bash: The Fanfic!

The direct sequel to: The Sapphire Heartverse

Chapter One: Candy Coded

chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8

Last entirety edit: 9/04/2024

“Ramón!” The brunette man calls from the kitchen, “Your breakfast is going to get cold, Foofy!” Ice sighs and places a paper towel over the two freshly cooked, fluffy pancakes dolloped with butter, and a side of over easy eggs.

“Need any help, Vans?” Tippy asks zeir husband. Vanilla pouts a little bit,

“Go get your son.” He points.

In his room, 15 year old Ramón is on his computer chair listening to music and doodling a little in his sketchbook. Tippy opens the door,

“Mi hijo,” Ze knocks on the panel. Ramón turns around a little startled, then takes his headphones off,

“D-daddo! Good morning! I was just about to uh… yeah.”

“Get your cotton-candy-headed self in the kitchen before your pops sends you to the void.” Tippy teases Ramón. Ramón gets up from his computer chair and looks down at his dad with a chuckle. Tippy looks up at him,

“When did you get so tall?! I swear, we might have to get you a bigger doorway,” ze follows Ramón to the kitchen, “or a bigger house, heheh!”

“What’s this about a bigger house, sweetie? I’m not making any more renovations to this place until you give me a garden.” Vanilla points a spatula and gives his husband a warm chuckle and a smile.

“Papa, do you have to wear that apron every time you cook?” Ramón sits down at the table with an exaggerated eye roll as he takes the paper towel off of his plate.

“Yes, I do, young man. Eat your food so you can get taller and annoy your dad even more.” Vanilla dusts some pancake flour off of his purple apron with violet hearts on the pockets. He adjusts his hair bun and brushes his long left bang behind his ear. Ramón notices this and remembers something he’s been wanting to say for years. Vanilla pulls off his apron, getting ready to eat breakfast with his family. The teenage boy finishes chewing and swallows his pancake, then lightly points his fork at his papa,

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, pops. How come your right bang is so much shorter than the left? It’s been like that forever.”

Vanilla looks at his son, frozen. His mouth is open a little and his eyes are just a bit wide, Vanilla is stuck in place for a moment. The brunette looks to his lower left then his upper right,

“Uh… ah. Well…” Vanilla daintily folds his apron, fidgeting with it, “I… I’ll have to tell you when you’re older.”

“Huh? How come?” Ramón asks before drinking some orange juice. Vanilla sits next to Tippy and kisses the top of zeir head.

“Well, Foofy… It’s a long story. A very long, boring story that you might not want to sit through.” Vanilla fidgets with his hair and doesn’t make eye contact with his son. Ramón has a feeling something is up, but leaves it alone.

After Tippy leaves for work at the art studio, Vanilla drops Ramón off at his high school.

“Alright, Foofs, have a wonderful day at school. Don’t cause trouble now!” Vanilla smiles at Ramón. He leans over and kisses his son on the cheek, much to Ramón’s dismay.

“Papa, don’t!” The pink haired boy turns around to look out the window in case anyone might’ve seen. He whips his head back around to his father, “I’m not a little kid anymore, you can’t just… kiss me like that, man.” Vanilla’s brows frown,

“I’m sorry…” Ramón opens the car door and Vanilla speaks, “You’ll always be my little boy. No matter how old you get.”

Ramón sighs,

“I know, pops.”

“Ramoooooooon!” One of his friends playfully howls at him.

“Gotta go! See you at home!”

“Okay, Foofy, I lo-” Ramón closes the door on Vanilla. The brunette is stunned for a moment. He brushes his longer bang behind his ear and drives away with a very hurt expression.

“There he is!” One of Ramón’s friends, Jared, pats his back. Jared is a tall, lean yet muscular teenage boy with a box fade hair style, gold dangling earrings with stars at the end, and very dark brown eyes, “Are you still gonna hang out after cheer today?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan anyway, but it’s subject to change.” Ramón smiles and playfully shoves his friend. They both walk inside the building. Alex, another one of Ramón’s friends walks besides the two boys. She is a chubby teenage girl with straight blonde hair down her back, light blue eyes, and braces,

“Did you see the new episode of Space Train Violence last night?! It was the best one yet!”

“You say that about every episode! Even the one where they stood on the moon and didn’t do anything.” Jared tells her with a laugh. Ramón opens his locker and sets his backpack inside. Jared leans up against the locker next to Ramón about to say something. Suddenly his eyes widen and he smacks Ramón on the back a few times to get his attention.

“Dude, what?” Ramón turns around to see Cobie, his crush approaching the two of them. Cobie is a goth teenager with spiky black hair, blue lipstick, dark eye makeup surrounding their dark purple eyes. They walk towards Ramón, causing his heart to pound. Jared suppresses a laugh. He stretches and speaks,

“Oh yeah, I just remembered I have to be over here or whatever. Hi, Cobie.”

“Hey.” Cobie waves gloomily at Jared. “Hey, Ramón.”

“Hi. Uh, ahem, hi. Cobie.” Ramón clears his throat.

“I found these rat bones behind my house. I was lucky enough to find the skull too. I was thinking about adding it to my collection.” Cobie tells him, showing him the skeleton in a shoe box. Oh man, they are so cool.

“Y-yeah, that sounds awesome. Uh… so how is your half of the project coming along?” Ramón asks them.

“It’s going well. I hope you don’t mind that I put a spiderweb design on some parts.” Cobie closes the box.

“I think that’s really cool.” Ramón smiles at them. They look at him with a blank expression, but it’s still obvious that they enjoy his company. Cobie is about to speak, but suddenly, the box is smacked out of their hands. The box and its contents spill all over the floor. The person who did that also slams Ramón’s locker shut,

“Ew! There were bones in that thing!”

“Ryan…” Ramón grits his teeth. Ryan is a tall, muscular yet chubby and pale, strawberry blonde teenage boy with blue eyes.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than be a douchebag?” Ramón sighs with a scowl.

“Wow, so hostile for no reason!” Ryan laughs. He tries to intimidate Cobie by pretending he’s going to attack them. When they flinch, Ryan laughs even harder. He turns back towards Ramón, “What? What?”

Ramón grits his teeth, and winds up his leg about to kick Ryan in the face. Unfortunately the headmaster walks down the hallway. Ryan gives her a fake smile and bows to her,

“Good morning, Miss Lewis. You look lovely today.”

“Good morning, Ryan.” She smiles at him, then sneers at Ramón, “Morning, Mr Ice.”

“Good morning, Miss Lewis.” Ramón says.

“Mhm. Have you been getting control of that menace of a stand?” She narrows her eyes at him. Ramón is about to speak to defend his stand, but suddenly she turns to see two other teenagers attacking one another, “HEY!” She sprints over to them at lightning speed, “No stand fighting in the hallway!” She grabs them both with her stand’s mechanical arms and pushes them away from each other,

“If I catch you using your stands to fight again, you are both getting detention!”

Ramón, Ryan, and Cobie watch this happen. Ryan turns back to Ramón and flips him off as he walks away. Ramón angrily bites his teeth and shakes his head.

After school

Ramón and Jared head to the gym to cheer practice. The cheer captain Lillie, a teenage girl with long lavender box braids tied into a ponytail, bright pink lipstick, and dark brown almost pitch black eyes, blows a sparkly pink plastic whistle,

“Alright, everyone!” She claps her hands, “Let’s get this party started! Ramón! Have you been practicing those backflips?”

“You know it.” Ramón tells her. Jared elbows him in the shoulder,

“Hey, ask her about the thing- actually I’ll ask her about the thing- Lillie!”

“Yeeees?” She asks with a cheerful smile. Ramón tries to get Jared to stop talking, but he persists,

“Ramón’s stand can glitch people in and out of existence. Can he use it for our next performance?” Lillie taps her pen with a fluffy pink end against her cheek,

“Hmmm… I don’t know. Is it a destructive stand?”

“U-uh,” Ramón looks around at the other cheerleaders, “Well… I don’t actually know. I mean- uh… Sugar Crash-”

“Ooooh, Sugar Crash! I like that name! Sorry, go ahead.” Lillie giggles.

“Uh… well… like I said, I don’t know what else he does. The only thing I know how to do now is uh… well… uh, okay okay,” Ramón steps in front of everyone, “Let me show you.”

The teenage boy takes out his stand Sugar Crash. Sugar Crash is a pastel pink robotic looking stand. He has an angular helmet on his head, right-triangle eyes with blue scleras and black pupils, a soft angled cube torso, with teal, pink and green beams connecting his purple mechanical hands. The torso has a heart shaped hole in the middle with a swirling pink vortex with a light blue singularity. The torso is also connected to a spiked and more sharp angled cubic bottom. Sugar Crash levitates with small pink, teal, and green rings coming out of the bottom cube.

Lillie smiles as Ramón continues to introduce them all to Sugar Crash. Ramón leaps into the air to perform a backflip, and Sugar Crash causes him to glitch out of existence. The other cheerleaders ooh and aah at what happened. Suddenly they hear his voice, which sounds just as glitched and distorted as he once was,

“I’m still here,” Ramón speaks and they all look around the gym for him, “But at the same time I’m not. It’s hard to explain… down here.” Ramón’s voice is normal now. His head and torso are coming out of the floor. The matter around him is glitched and looks distorted, Ramón is also just a little distorted, his image is jerking around as if he is a corrupted video game character. One of the teens covers their eyes because it’s difficult for them to look at. Lillie frowns her brows and smiles,

“That’s so cool! But I don’t know how we could incorporate that into our cheer. Especially if it could be harmful to other peoples’ eyes.”

“O-oh, no no!” Ramón floats up quickly and goes back to normal, “We wouldn’t have to do the floor thing, but phasing in and out of existence could be part of our routine.” A few of the other cheerleaders look at each other. One of them gets a worried look and speaks,

“I-I dunno… it seems, like, kind of dangerous…” Another one chimes in,

“Yeah, what if one of us gets stuck in the ground or a wall?”

“Yeah! And what if we get stuck in the void forever?!” Another speaks up. Ramón tries to settle them down. They all start talking about stand users with void powers and how they’re always dangerous,

“I had a cousin who had a void type stand. He went crazy and ended up sealing away half of his family into the ether! Never to be seen again!”

“That’s awful, I heard there are some people who can call the void at will and destroy everything in their path.” Another says.

“That’s horrible!”

“In my opinion, people with stands like that shouldn’t be allowed to-”

Lillie blows her whistle, getting a little upset,

“Alright!” She claps her hands, “Let’s get back to practicing our cheers for the game!” She gives Ramón an apologetic look. They all practice their original routine until it’s time to go home.

That night

Ramón has his cheek pressed up against his palm, playing with his dinner with a fork.

“Foofy?” Vanilla asks his son sweetly. Ramón looks up at his papa with a small,

“Mmm?”

“Is everything alright? Did something happen at school, Foofs?” Ice asks his child.

“Yeah, you okay, chiquito? You look kinda sad.” Tippy asks, joining in with a warm expression.

Ramón looks at his papa, then at his dad, then back at his papa. Ramón grimaces a little then leans back in his chair,

“Uh… it’s uh… you know, like…” He waves his hand around, “puberty.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Tippy nods, while Vanilla has a feeling something else is going on. Ice tightens his lips into a line with worried brows and scratches his jaw a little bit,

“You know you can always come to us if there’s anything bothering you.”

“I know.” Ramón tells them, “Uh… I need to do my homework. Big test tomorrow, so I have to get on that.” He gets up and heads to his room.

“W-wait! Foofy, you didn’t finish-” Vanilla picks up the plate and tries to bring it to Ramón, but his son closes his bedroom door. His shoulders drop and he brings the plate back to the table. Ice sighs deeply and slumps down into a chair.

“Hey…” Tippy walks over and wraps zeir arms around zeir husband, “He’s just going through a phase where he wants to be independent. Let him have his space for now, okay?”

“I…I know, sweetie.” Ice touches Tippy’s hand which is resting on one of his shoulders, “He’s growing up too fast. I remember when he could fit in my arms. He was so tiny. I would look down at him while rocking him and he would look at me with those big brown eyes…” Vanilla smiles, fondly remembering his son as an infant, “I would smile at him and he would smile back… I used to fall asleep with him in my arms on the couch.”

“Yeah, and you spoiled him rotten to the point he couldn’t sleep without you!” Tippy playfully pokes zeir husband’s nose, “Ramón would cry all night until you would hold him. He sounded so pitiful, he just wanted his papa…”

“He needed me, Tippy.” Vanilla covers his mouth. Tippy touches Vanilla’s cheek,

“I know and now you need him.” Ze pats Ice’s cheek.

“Hm? What do you mean by that?” The brunette asks. Tippy chuckles,

“You don’t want your little boy to grow up just yet.”

“Well, what parent wants their baby to grow up?” Ice pouts, making his husband laugh,

“It’ll be okay. Maybe you and Ramón can hang out one day. Maybe take him bowling or something and have a Papa and Foofy day!”

“I would love that so much, but…” Ice’s eyes are downcast, “I don’t think he wants to be seen in public with me.” He adjusts his hair bun and tucks away the loose strands, “He pushed me away when I kissed his cheek…”

“Listen here, Lucky Charms,” Tippy wraps his arm around his husband’s shoulders, “I’m serious when I say just let him have his space. Go ahead and wait until Sunday, that way it’s after the game, then ask if he’d like to hang out with you.” Ze kisses Vanilla’s cheek, “You know! Just get to know your kiddo all over again.”

“Maybe you’re right, Termite.” Ice gives zem a small smile and kisses zeir forehead.

Sunday

“Foofy?” Ice gently opens Ramón’s door. The teenage boy is sleeping soundly in the top bunk of his desk-bunkbed. Vanilla hears his son peacefully breathing in his slumber, this makes him smile. The brunette thinks back to when he would watch Ramón sleeping in his crib, so worried and so protective of his child. The man clears his throat and speaks a little louder,

“Foofs?”

“Snrrrkkk- huh? What?” Ramón stirs awake. The teenage boy leans up a little too fast and bonks his head on the ceiling, “Ouch!” He rubs his head.

“Oh! Are you alright?” Ice leans forward.

“Y-yeah… uh, hey, good morning, papa. You need me for something?”

“Hmhm, well… I was thinking,” Ice leans on the door pane with a warm smile, “You and I haven’t had any ‘papa and son’ time together in… hm… a long while. Perhaps you and I could…” Vanilla’s voice trails off as he notices his son’s wincing face. This hurts his feelings quite a bit, however he continues, “Could, er, go bowling. If you’d like. Just you and me?”

Ramón grimaces and looks at his papa for a few uncomfortable moments,

“Uhh.. oh, dang, uh… I don’t know, man. I’m a little sore from cheer yesterday.” Ramón stretches, rubs his neck, and nonchalantly looks away.

“I see…” Vanilla’s eyes are downcast. “If you ever need anything, Foofy, please let me know.” Ice’s honey sunset eyes gaze up into Ramón’s.

“You got it, pops! I’ll be fine. Honest.”

“Mnh.” Ice nods at his child with a small smile as he gently closes the bedroom door.

Ramón waits a few moments after his papa leaves before breathing a sigh of relief,

“Glad that’s over…” The pink haired boy rips off the blankets from himself and slides down the ladder and sits down at his desk. Ramón puts on his headset and starts up his computer. After a while, he hears his other friends and speaks,

“Heeeeyy! So, are we still on for the mall today?”

Unbeknownst to Ramón, his papa stayed right outside the door and could hear everything.

“What? No, no I’m free. Yeah, my fathers said it’s okay… cool, I’ll meet you both around 2.”

Vanilla twirls his left bang around in a vain attempt to comfort himself. Ice sighs softly and gives one last glance at Ramón’s bedroom door, before finally walking away.

To be continued…

#sugar crash void bash fanfic #sugar crash void bash #ramón ice jjba oc #tipvans #sapphire heartverse #jjba au #jjba au fanfic #selfship fanfic #selfship au fanfic #safeship #safe ship #fankid #fanchild

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