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kultavalo · 9 months ago

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The Horizon Jake Kiszka/Chris Turpin

Chapter 4: A Heart Which Silently Screamed

Summary: “I love you. I promise I will come back, no matter what.” Jake sobbed as he held Chris' face in his hands. Chris tried to be strong, the tears burned behind his eyes but he would not let them fall. Not yet. He needed to hold on just a few moments longer.

Tags: AU-pirates, angst, 1700's, golden age of piracy, emotional hurt/comfort, kissing, romance, talks of marriage, angst.

Word Count: 7.1K

A/N:

Hello everyone, happy ween!

I know it's been a while and I apologize but this chapter was not an easy one to write.

As always thanks to my besties @scarletvanfleet and @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka for their continued support and encouragement.

Enjoy!

The morning broke in many hues of gray. The oppressive heat of the day before seemed to have evaporated completely overnight, having been replaced by ominously dark rain clouds.

They had fallen asleep with Jake on top of Chris, chests still pressed together in their crimson embrace. Somewhere in the night they had shifted to the position they somehow always ended up in; Jake on his back with Chris cradled at his side. He hardly dared to move, worried that if he did Chris would wake and they would have to start getting ready for his departure. He knew it was silly but he hoped that if he just stayed as still as possible, maybe time itself would forget he existed and he could just remain here forever. Warm and safe, with his love sleeping peacefully by his side.

Jake had been awake for hours.

Or maybe it had just been a few minutes, it was hard to tell. The light that entered the cave had hardly shifted with the dawn.

But it seemed time would not stop its march for him so easily. In the distance, its sound carried on the wind, Jake could hear the church bells chime the hour.

Eight in the morning.

Four more hours before he would embark.

But then Chris stirred and reality set back in. Jake could never desert. Even if they were able to make it out of town, any other port would be occupied by the navy as well. It wouldn’t take long for him to be found out and he shuddered to think of the consequences. Capital punishment for deserting was the death sentence. No doubt Chris wouldn’t get off scot free either. The punishment for sodomy was also death. Their names would be dragged through the mud.

The thought of deserting crossed his mind once more. They could just stay here, in the cave, for the rest of the day. No one knew this place even existed. They could leave at nightfall, steal a boat somewhere, Jake had some money saved up, they could start over somewhere else.

He let the thought play through his head for a few moments longer.

Images flashed behind his eyes. A different port town, a little shop for Chris, maybe a fishing boat for him. A small house that they would share, a simple life, lived in peace and shared together. Two old men on a porch in fifty years or so, maybe a dog or a cat, some chickens in the yard. Fresh eggs for breakfast and warm quilts on the bed…

Normally Jake didn’t care much about his reputation but he had to keep Josh in mind as well. His brother had moved to his town to set up his shop, to build a life and a career for himself. If word came out that Jake hadn’t just gone AWOL but also had run off with another man, Josh would never get another upstanding customer again.

No, Jake had to leave, it was his duty. His duty to keep Chris safe, and to take care of his family. He would keep the thought of the life they might have had tucked away in a far corner of his brain. A little harmless fantasy to get him through a rainy day.

He felt Chris’ breathing change, felt his body lighten as sleep lifted off of him and he slowly regained consciousness. Soon, his ragged voice spoke, part grogginess still clinging onto his vocal chords, part the lingering result of their lovemaking last night.

“What time is it?”

“A little past eight love, we still have some time.”

“Hmm… Four hours…”

Jake pulled Chris closer to him. Maybe if they held each other close enough they would merge into one being, exempt from responsibilities and obligations. But they had already tried that last night. Even with the other’s blood flowing through their veins and Jake’s love planted so deep inside Chris, their amalgamation into a singular entity had failed, and so they had to continue to live separately.

The silence enveloped them like a blanket once more. They both had so much left to say. Years of conversations they still needed to have. Talks, and fights, and compromises, and declarations of love spoken over and over in every way possible.

They needed a lifetime. They had four hours.

Jake wanted to make the most of their last few hours together, he had a box of Mrs. Oliver’s finest pastries stashed away in the linen chest. His plan had been to get up well before Chris, set out the breakfast, wake his lover with the sound of the music box and the vision of a set table. A last morning of normalcy.

Instead Jake sat up slightly, dragging Chris along with him. He let go of him for a moment, placing him against the headboard as he quickly crawled down to the foot of the bed to reach into the chest and fish out their breakfast. He made his way back to Chris, maneuvering him so that his chest was pressed into his side and his legs were draped over Jake’s lap. Chris’ arms circled his torso on their own volition and his cheek rested on Jake’s unmarked pec.

Jake opened the box and took out a slice of banana bread. He ripped off a small chunk and fed it to Chris who eagerly opened his mouth and accepted the food. He ripped off another piece and went to guide it into his own mouth, but before he could reach all the way up he was intercepted by one of Chris’ hands. It had shot up and grabbed the piece of bread from Jake’s fingers. Jake had shot him a look of confusion for a second but he was only met with Chris’ gentle expression. There was no teasing and no playfulness so Jake simply returned his gaze to Chris’ fingers, awaiting his next actions. Chris simply continued the path Jake’s own hand had been following, guiding the food up to his mouth. Jake opened his lips and Chris gently placed the bite inside. As he retracted his fingers and went to move his hand back down, Jake captured his wrist and held it in place, pressing tender kisses to each of Chris’ knuckles before releasing him again.

They sat like that for a while, silently ripping bite-sized chunks off of the banana bread and muffins, hand feeding them to each other until the box was empty and their bellies were full. It had felt like they were still in their own world as they had shared their breakfast, but as Jake set the empty box on the ground next to the bed and snuggled closer to Chris he could hear the church bells chime the half hour. Time was moving fast.

Jake let out a shuddering breath. Not trusting his own shaky voice, he simply nodded. He pressed a kiss to the top of Chris’ head and squeezed him tightly once more before they both started making their way out of the bed, in search of their clothes.

Chris had heard it too. With a lump in his ruined throat he spoke.

“We should be getting ready.”

“I don’t want to go.”

They moved around each other as if in a daze. Of course they had both known this day would eventually come, but the reality that in three and a half hours Jake would truly depart and might never return had finally crystallized in both of their minds and the realization left them numb.

They dressed each other in silence. Cleaning off the dried blood from the other’s chest and assisting with buttons, and buckles, and belts as an excuse to keep their bodies in contact for as long as they could. As they both stood there, looking the other over for anything that might still need fixing or closing but finding nothing, they finally spoke again.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Silence once more.

Nine chimes from the clock tower.

Three hours left.

Chris grabbed the basket they always used to bring their food into the cave. He loaded up the dirty dishes from their dinner last night and the empty box that had held their breakfast. Once everything had been gathered he covered the contents with a cloth so that no one would ask any questions. He looked around the space once more. The flowers Jake had placed onto every surface were starting to droop, the extreme heat from the night before and contrasting chill of the morning speeding up their wilting process. The candles in the cave’s natural alcoves had burnt out somewhere during the night, leaving behind nothing but the dripping ghosts of their presence. As his eyes finally landed back on Jake his heart shattered completely.

Jake, who was standing in the center of the room, hands tightly gripping the cuffs of his jacket, shoulders scrunched up high and mouth pressed into a pained line as tears streamed down his face. He looked like a child who had hurt himself but was trying not to cry because he was told he needed to be a big boy.

Chris dropped the basket to the ground and rushed over to him, cradling him in his arms as Jake finally let go and sobbed into his shoulder. His cries tore straight through Chris.

He had heard Jake cry before and he had always reveled in the knowledge that Jake had felt comfortable enough to show that amount of vulnerability in his presence. But Jake’s cries had always been quiet, heaving sobs. These were different. There was a primal, raw pain in his voice that Chris had only heard once before; when his aunt had lost her youngest son to scarlet fever. These were cries of loss, and mourning, and the knowledge that no matter what you did, something important had just been ripped from your soul for the rest of eternity.

“Oh my darling, I know. I know how you feel for I feel it too but you cannot despair now. You must face this new challenge head on, that is the only way you can return to me. Do not lose hope, I have faith in you. My faith in you surpasses my faith in anything else, and I will pray to you every night to assure your safe return to me and I know my prayers will be answered because you are real, and good, and true. I will not let our parting destroy us, I will simply see it as an opportunity to save up all the love I give to you daily, so that when you return I can supply it to you tenfold. The journey ahead of you will be long and treacherous but I am with you. Keep your head held high captain, there will always be a next sunrise on the horizon.”

Jake’s grief washed over him and Chris had to do everything in his might not to let it pull him asunder too. If he collapsed alongside Jake now, they would never leave this cave again and as much as that was exactly what he wanted, Chris knew too that the consequences of Jake staying would be even more dire than the ones of him leaving.

So he steadied himself. He swallowed down the lump that was still clawing its way up his throat and instead he spoke.

Tears pricked behind Chris’ own eyes as Jake’s tormented wails finally died down into quiet sobs. He quickly blinked them away, he could cry later. For now Jake needed him to be strong and steady, so he was. Jake’s trembling voice spoke up from his shoulder, muffled by Chris’ jacket and the grief still stuck in his throat.

“I will write to you… I’ll write to you every day and I will find a way to send you my letters when we make port. I don’t know how yet but I’ll find a way and I’ll include instructions on how to write back to me. If I can’t find a way to send them at the very least I shall save them so you can read them upon my return.”

Jake finally lifted his head from the crook of Chris’ neck and looked him in the eyes. Despite his blotchy, tear stained cheeks and his red eyes, his face looked more determined than Chris had ever seen.

“Because I will return to you.” Jake stated, and Chris could only hope the fire he saw burning behind Jake’s eyes would be enough to keep him alive.

𓊝

They walked back across the rocky path on the beach, holding each other’s hands for as long as they dared. The sky had turned a deep slate gray and the ominous rumbling of thunder could be heard echoing out over sea.

“Do you know the route you’ll be sailing yet?” Chris asked tentatively. For the first time since they had met, he felt like he had to choose his words carefully. Despite the stoic expression Jake had plastered onto his face as soon as they had left the cave, Chris could still feel his grief flowing out of his every pore. He didn’t want to add to Jake’s suffering but he also couldn’t spend their last few hours together in silence.

Chris nodded pensively. It would take a good few months for them to reach the Caribbean. If he would be able to receive a letter every two weeks he might be able to keep some of his sanity intact. He had no idea how Jake would manage it though. The navy was notorious for intercepting mail sent through the official channels, especially when it came to higher ranking officers. They pinned it all on protocol and matters of security but the truth remained that their own, private letters had gotten more than one officer hanged.

“We’re set out to hug the coast for as long as we can.” Jake stated, his tone matter of factly but not unkind.

“We’re meant to make port every fortnight or so, in order to keep our supplies stocked as much as possible until we hit the Caribbean. Once there we will join the armada and go into battle.”

But Jake was clever, and his previous voyages had left him with many valuable connections in many ports. He would find a way, Chris was certain. He had to be.

A slight drizzle had started to coat them as they walked into town. They were headed to Chris' shop and small apartment first. It was located closest to the beach and they needed to drop off their dirty dishes and Chris had to change his clothes.

Jake decided to wait outside of the shop while Chris changed, knowing that if he joined his lover inside he would never come out again. As he waited he rolled and lit up a cigarette, a nervous habit he didn't indulge in often but it kept his hands busy for a while.

The rush of nicotine that flooded his lungs helped a little to calm him down. He took a few more drags as he stared out to the storm rolling in from the sea. If the weather got too bad his departure might be delayed. It was a wishful thought that lit a spark of hope in his stomach, but as he watched the wisps of smoke je exhaled being shot through by the rain, that little spark died down again. Even if his departure was delayed, it would arrive in the end. There was no escaping it.

With a sigh Jake dropped the bud of his cigarette to the ground and snubbed it out with the toe of his boot. As he straightened himself again he heard the door to Chris' shop open and close. He looked up and was greeted by the love of his life, dressed in the finest suit he owned. A creamy white jacket trimmed with gold lace, a matching silk cravat and pantaloons, fine wool stockings and creamy suede buckled pumps.

“Sunday best?” Jake asked with a watery smile.

“Sunday best.” Chris confirmed. “All the sailor’s wives always wear it to send off their husbands, I figured the captain's husband should follow tradition as well.”

Jake's breath was cut off by another wave of grief, but this time it was followed by a tide of love and appreciation. He silently thanked the rain for hiding his tears.

“Well…best hurry on husband, it's in poor taste for the captain to be late to his own ship departing.” Jake said, forcing his voice to sound as lighthearted as possible but being betrayed by the crackle of grief which had built its home on his vocal cords.

Chris’ smile mirrored Jake's, sadness and love mixed into one expression.

They continued their walk into town, the rain tapping a rhythm on the umbrella Chris had brought with him as he left his shop. He quietly thanked the heavens for the downpour, permitting them to walk shoulder to shoulder underneath their one shared covering.

“I have to stop by Josh's shop on the way to the harbor, I hope you don't mind. He mended some shirts for me and told me to pick them up before departing.” Jake spoke up as they crossed the town square.

“I don't mind.” Chris replied “It's always a joy to see your brother.” Jake smiled up at Chris and bumped his shoulder with his own in a subtle gesture of fondness.

They were stopped a few times on their way to Josh’s tailor shop, mainly by people who were on their way to work and wouldn’t be able to go to the harbor to see the fleet depart. They gave Jake words of encouragement and wished him well in the battle against the scourge of piracy. Jake thanked them politely and assured them all would be well. He knew everyone had his best interests at heart but none of them knew how bad the situation truly was. His fleet was not the first that had been sent into battle. They were part of the fourth offensive wave in as many years. Oftentimes fleets wouldn’t even be able to join the armada because they would be vanquished before they could even reach the Caribbean naval theater. Some ships had even gone missing completely, mutiny, commandeering, and unforeseen bad weather were just as common a cause of destruction as battle.

They entered Josh’s shop right as the church bell chimed, indicating they had two hours left. Technically one as Jake still had to report to the barracks to retrieve the last of his affects and get dressed in his uniform.

Jake had known the risks when he started climbing through the ranks. His profession was an illustrious one but the death rate was higher than average. He had known the risks yes, but he hadn’t had a home to return to back then.

He did now.

Josh greeted them warmly. As per usual Jake’s twin was all bright smiles and open arms, embracing both him and Chris as they entered the small but well maintained shop. Its walls were filled with bolts of fabric in every color imaginable, many imported specifically for the high profile clients Josh had attracted with his skill and charm.

“There he is! Our noble captain, off to save the world!” Josh exclaimed brightly as he hugged Jake close to his chest. He looked him over as he released him from his embrace, holding him at an arm's length so he could better study him.

“I hope you’re not wearing that for your great departure.” he said with a frown as he took in Jake’s simple black shirt and jacket and beat up trousers.

“Of course not.” Jake replied with a huff “I’ll be in the full uniform as is protocol.”

Josh nodded approvingly before he turned to Chris and embraced him as well.

Jake averted his gaze from his brother and started wandering around the shop in an effort to hide his quickly reddening cheeks. Josh didn’t know about him and Chris, at least not in any clear terms. Jake figured he might deduced some things about how far their fondness stretched, but if he did he never mentioned it.

“Oh well now look at you!” Josh grinned wide as he studied Chris in the same way he had Jake.

“You should let Christopher dress you sometime Jakey, he clearly knows what he’s doing!”

Chris, always having been more skilled at hiding his embarrassment, simply smiled at Josh and asked him how he was doing.

As Jake rounded the shop and returned back to where Josh and Chris were standing, his cheeks having returned to their normal color at this point, he clapped Josh on the shoulder.

“Oh you know how it is, business as usual. How have you been Christopher? Are you well? It sounds like you might have caught a cold.” Josh was cheerful and polite but Chris could see there was a tiredness behind his eyes that hadn’t been there when he had seen him about a month or so ago.

That had been just before they had gotten the news of Jake’s departure, Chris realized with a start.

Josh put up a good front, but of course the news had weighed heavily on him as well.

Chris couldn’t help but feel selfish for a moment. He had told himself that Jake’s departure would impact him the most profoundly but he had hardly spared a thought for how Josh must feel.

His brother, his twin no less, off to fight a war that seemed to be impossible to win.

It had to be tearing him apart.

“I’d say business is better than usual brother, what’s this news about you being commissioned to make the wedding dress for the mayor’s daughter this autumn?”

Josh's smile grew sincere at Jake’s words, the pride he took in his work shining through on his face.

“Oh it’s just rumors for now.” he said waving his hand through the air as if to wave away Jake’s lingering words.

“But I won’t deny that Miss Cynthia has been looking through some of my white and lace stocks recently. Make of that what you will.” he added with a devious grin.

Jake was stirred out of his thoughts as Josh suddenly exclaimed “Oh, Christopher, before I forget- and while I still have you here, the cloak you commissioned is nearly ready. If you’d be so kind as to try it on one final time, I could even have it done before you head off to the harbor!”

Jake smiled fondly at his brother. He truly was happy that Josh had found security and even popularity here. He was a talented artist and Jake was thrilled he was finally receiving the recognition he deserved.

The pleasant small talk made him forget about his own sorrows for a moment. For now he was just sharing in some harmless gossip with his brother and his love, just like he would any other day.

Chris’ eyes nervously flicked between the twins for a moment. Jake could read the unspoken question that swirled around his mind.

“We have time Christopher, go ahead.” Jake spoke up, gently reassuring him that it was okay.

“Wonderful!” Josh exclaimed, “If you’ll just go through to the fitting room, I’ve already hung it up for you. Just call me when you’re ready.”

Chris nodded and made his way to the back of the store. As soon as he was out of earshot Jake turned to his brother and spoke.

“Already had it hung up huh? How convenient.” he said with a chuckle.

“What can I say Jacob, I had a feeling he might drop by today.” Josh replied with a coy smile.

The little moment of brevity didn’t last however. Josh’s face soon dropped into a serious frown and his tone became grim.

“What’s the verdict?” he asked and Jake knew what he meant. It had been their little key phrase ever since they were little. If they asked for the verdict they wanted the unabashed truth. No flowery language or trying to dampen the blow.

Jake sighed. He obviously had told Josh about what was going on, the war, him being called up for duty, some information about his departure, but he hadn’t told him how bad it truly was. He had hoped he would have been able to spare him from that reality but he should have known better, Josh would always make his own decisions about what he could and couldn’t handle.

“It will take us a few months to reach the armada. Until then we’ll hug the coast as much as possible, try to avoid any stray pirate fleets that might be making port somewhere. It’s dangerous, the few reports we’ve gotten tell us that the outlook is grim. Our opponent doesn’t fight fair and up until now the higher ups are refusing to stoop to their level and plan an infiltration or make any deals. I don’t have much faith we’ll win this…” Jake trailed off. He didn’t have to say it, they both knew what his personal verdict would be if they lost. If he was lucky? Burial at sea. If he was not? Well…. He couldn’t think about that right now.

“Promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to come back home.” Josh said in a hushed tone, almost as if he was scared someone might hear. “I don’t care if you have to desert, or flee, or bribe, or kill, you do whatever it takes to stay safe okay?” a crackle made its way into his voice as his sentence came to a stop. Jake could see the tears welling up in his brother's eyes and he could feel his throat tightening.

He quickly nodded his agreement and pulled Josh into a tight hug before he could see the tears spilling down his cheeks. They held each other close for a long moment, feeling their heartbeats sink up against the other’s chest. Two halves of one whole.

He busied himself by committing every nook and cranny of Josh’s shop to his memory, just in case this was the last time he’d see it. All the brightly colored bolts of fabric, the wall of drawers behind the counter which Jake knew held all manner of buttons and threads, the mannequins dressed in Josh’s latest creations… The whole space held a sense of home for Jake. A little piece of family in this strange town.

Their moment was interrupted by Chris' voice, coming from the dressing room, calling out Josh’s name.

Josh quickly released his brother and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He cleared his throat and straightened his waistcoat before making his way to the back of the shop, leaving Jake to just take in the familiarity of the space by himself.

“No no, it’s just a minute of work I promise, if you’ll just follow me, I have the right thread behind the counter, it won’t take more than a few stitches.” Josh’s voice flowed back into the main room of the shop, followed by the sound of two sets of footsteps. Jake was still half lost in his own mind as he turned his head on instinct in the direction of the voices. He quickly returned to the present however as he saw Chris enter behind Josh, wearing the cloak he had evidently commissioned.

It was a beautiful cream colored capelet, adorned with golden embroidery along the hem which matched the rest of the suit Chris was currently wearing. As Jake got closer he realized the embroidery was actually a scene of tiny ships bobbing along a tide of golden thread, all sailing towards a slightly larger depiction of a lighthouse at the center back of the cloak.

“What do you think?” Chris asked shyly, spreading his arms a bit to fully show off the garment as Josh ducked behind the counter in search for the right thread and some needles.

Chris still smiled at him. He didn’t need Jake to tell him what he was thinking, he could read his thoughts on his face clear as day.

Jake took a moment to pick his words carefully. He wanted to tell Chris he looked beautiful. That he wished he could marry him right on the spot in this outfit, that the little details embroidered on the fabric hadn’t escaped him and that he would do his best to sail back to the lighthouse that was Chris.

Instead what he said was “You have truly outdone yourself Joshua, it’s a masterpiece.”

He doubted Josh had intended it as such, but the implications that this cloak that Chris had commissioned was made from the same fabric as a wedding dress made Jake’s chest tighten just that much more. He swallowed hard, forcing the tears back down his throat. He went to speak but his voice was cut off by the church bell chiming the half hour. Time was steadily running out. In half an hour Jake would have to report to the barracks. One hour after that his ship would depart.

“Thank you Jacob.” Josh said as he got up from his crouched position behind the counter. He made his way over to Chris, asking him to hold still as he sewed a final button in place.

“It was a pleasure to make and honestly it was great practice for if Miss Cynthia does decide to employ my talents for her dress. This cloak used quite a few of the fabrics she has been eyeing lately.”

The mood in the shop turned cold at the tolling of the bell. All three men knew what it meant.

“You look beautiful.” Jake quietly whispered as he took a few steps closer to Chris. Chris gave him a soft smile and grabbed his hand for just a moment, giving it three quick squeezes. It was their way of saying I love you when words would be too damning. Jake returned the gesture instantly before releasing Chris’ hand again.

“We should get going soon.” Jake muttered as Josh snipped the thread on the button.

“I’ll go grab the shirts I mended for you.” Josh quietly offered. Placing the needle and scissors he had been holding on the counter and momentarily disappearing to the work room at the back of the shop.

Josh soon returned, carrying a soft package wrapped in brown paper and twine.

“Here you go good sir, four shirts all good as new.” he said with a smile that reached nowhere near his eyes.

“Thank you. How much do I owe you?” Jake asked, reaching into his pocket to fetch his coin purse.

“Oh don’t worry about that.” Josh waved at him dismissively. “You can pay me upon your return.”

Jake smiled at him humorlessly. He pulled his brother into one final hug, trying his best to commit the way their hearts beat together to his memory. As he let go he took the package from Josh’s hands before stepping aside to let Chris say his goodbyes as well.

The rain had really started pouring down as they exited the shop and they huddled close underneath Chris’s umbrella. They were stopped by so many people wishing Jake a safe and victorious return, that they only had a few minutes left when they finally reached the barracks.

“I suppose this is it…” Chris croaked out. His throat still hadn’t recovered from his devotion to Jake and the tears that were starting to well up only made matters worse.

“Just for now. We will see each other again. No matter what, I will return to you.” Jake pressed upon Chris. There was a desperation in his voice and try as he might he could not suppress it.

“I will pray to you everyday…” Chris’ sentence trailed off as his tears choked out his voice. He didn’t want to cry, he needed to be strong for Jake, but the reality of the departure had fully set in now and the pain he felt was too much for his body to contain.

Jake quickly looked around them. The heavy rain had forced anyone who had no urgent business outside indoors. He dragged Chris along with him, slotting their bodies into the tight squeeze between two barracks. Once he was certain they were completely hidden, his lips crashed against Chris’ in a tear stained kiss. The desperation that had clung to Jake’s voice now also clung to his lips and tongue. The way their lips moved together, tongues rolling over teeth and sliding against each other, hands grasping at the other’s hair and clothes. They were trying to devour each other.

The moment couldn't last of course. The dreaded church bells chimed the hour and Jake had to report for duty.

“I love you. I promise I will come back, no matter what.” Jake sobbed as he held Chris' face in his hands. Chris tried to be strong, the tears burned behind his eyes but he would not let them fall. Not yet. He needed to hold on just a few moments longer.

“I love you too. I'll be waiting for you.” Chris replied, thanking his lucky stars that his wrecked voice hid the way his throat had tightened.

They held onto each other tighter than they ever had before. Neither of them wanted to let go but Chris was the first to ease his grip. He knew if he told Jake to run away with him now he would but he wouldn't do that to him. Jake had to go, and Chris had to stay and be strong.

“Go, your crew is expecting you. Best not be late.” Chris spoke, forcing a smile onto his face. Jake nodded as he tried to control his sobs. He took deep, grounding breaths. Once he was finally calm enough he looked Chris in the eye, stern determination plastered onto his face.

“Christopher, may I kiss you?” His voice was calm and steady as he asked the same question he had asked so many years ago. Chris' voice finally fully cracked as he echoed the reply he had given that day.

“You may, you may, you may.”

𓊝

After they had shared their final tender kiss Jake had made his way to the barracks to change into his uniform and pack the final few of his meager belongings.

As he unwrapped the package of mended shirts Josh had given him, another hole was carved out of his heart. On top of the stack was a white silk handkerchief. The borders were embroidered with tiny golden ships, bobbing along on a tide of golden thread. In the center of the square with a note pinned to it, stood the same lighthouse that had adorned the back of Chris’ cloak.

“Had some fabric left over, figured you could use a handkerchief. I love you Jakey.

Your big brother x”

Jake's hands were shaking so much he almost couldn't read the note. The implications behind the kind gesture were immense and the emotion that came over him was too much to comprehend. He couldn't take it, he felt like his brain couldn't deal with any of this and so out of self preservation it had shifted to auto pilot.

He changed into his uniform and packed the shirts into his footlocker in a daze, collecting the last few items off of his night stand and slotting them into the chest as well before closing and locking it. He had not packed his new pocket watch and handkerchief yet. They were laid out on his bed, neatly aligned along with his tricorn hat, like soldiers awaiting instructions.

He placed the hat upon his head and walked out into the pouring rain.

Jake picked up the piece of cloth first, pinching it in the center and letting all corners fold together as he lifted it. He stuffed it, center first, into his sleeve, letting the end trail out of the wrist.

Next he picked up the watch. He hooked the little chain around the middle most buttonhole of his waistcoat and slipped the little watch itself into his left pocket.

Finally he picked up his hat, dusting off some invisible lint as he inspected it. He looked at the triangle of cloth that signified so much of his status and duty, and for a moment he felt like a monkey getting dressed up to perform at a circus. He quickly pushed that thought away. He was proud of his work, it was important. Vital for the greater good.

𓊝

Chris had made his way to the harbor as if he had been walking through a thick blanket of snow. All sounds had been muffled to his ears. People might have greeted him or even tried to stop and chat with him for a while but he paid them no mind. He had closed his umbrella and used it as a cane to steady himself. The rain was soaking through his new cloak but he didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel anything anymore. The wind whipped around his face, stinging his skin with the unrelenting raindrops and the salt from the sea but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.

He took a seat on a bench that looked out over the harbor. Somewhere in the back of his mind the memory of Jake and him sitting in that exact same spot, talking about the severity of the threat they were facing and the probability that he would have to face it replayed like a picture book. But that had been a lifetime ago. The Chris that had sat there after Sunday mass was not the same Chris that sat here now.

From his seat at the top of the cliffside, he could see the people in the harbor milling about. Sailors loading the last of the provisions and the crew’s personal effects on board of the ships. Chris knew which ship in the fleet would be Jake’s. Jake had pointed it out to him on one of their walks along the docks. Its name was the H.M.S. Faithful. It was a beautiful 44 gun, three mast frigate, and despite the dread he felt about her purpose, Jake had quietly admitted that he was quite proud he had been placed in charge of her.

He felt an itch on his chest and raised his hand to scratch it without a conscious thought. When a warmth flowed from the spot he paid it no mind. He had scratched open his scar, the fresh scabs too soft still for his heavy hand.

Good, he thought. He would pick at the scar until the lines of Jake’s initials formed thick ribbons on his chest. He wanted to be able to feel the bumps through his shirt so that whenever he needed, he could touch it and feel Jake there with him.

She lay low in the water, her hull undoubtedly filled with cannonballs, gunpowder, and provisions. Her sails were being hoisted in preparation for the departure and a crowd of people had gathered on the docks to see the sailors off. Chris had originally planned to join the crowds, find some solidarity in his community, but he had no desire to do that anymore.

His only real connection to this town was about to sail away and he felt, for now at least, it would be best for him to be on his own.

He was pulled out of his musings by the sound of drums floating over from the barracks. The march to the docks had begun. Soon rows and rows of sailors would be marching into the harbor followed by the higher ranking officers and lastly the four captains of the new fleet.

People were cheering and waving as the parade made its way to the ships, the rows of sailors splitting into four different groups that each boarded one of the vessels.

Chris could see Jake as clear as day. His uniform was pristine, his hat slightly cocked to the side in that defiant way he always had about him. His face was blank. Chris could see his eyes scanning the crowd for him but he wasn’t there.

He threw all caution to the wind and screamed, hoping his wrecked voice would roar louder than the wind and the rain.

As the drums stopped and the crews had entered the ships, the captains finally turned on their heels and boarded their charges. The crowds cheered wildly but Chris didn’t hear it. All he heard was the clock strike twelve, sealing his and Jake’s fates for the foreseeable future.

By some stroke of divine luck Jake seemed to hear him. His eyes snapped to him in an instant and a flash of emotion crossed over his stoic features. Ever so slightly, barely noticeable if you didn’t look for it, Jake tipped his hat and touched his lips.

Chris touched his own lips in return. His fingers tasted like blood and salt, and when he looked down he saw that the rain that had soaked through his clothes had mixed with the steady trickle of cruor that flowed from him. The front of his shirt was a dark crimson that he would likely never get out. That was fine. He didn’t want to get it out, it needed to be there.

As the last toll of the church bell echoed out over the water, the anchors were lifted and the ships prepared to leave port.

Jake stood at the helm of the ship. His crew knew what to do and needed very little instruction. The wind and the rain whipped around him like a lover's frantic embrace. He dug his fingernails into his chest, letting out a deep sigh as he felt the warmth flow into his hand. The blood might ruin his uniform in the eyes of his superiors but to him it simply added what should always have been there. His cause for doing any of this in the first place.

As they sailed out of the harbor his first mate made his way up to him.

“The departure went as planned, captain, wind is in our favor, the rain might make the first day or so a bit miserable but I dare say we all feel that no matter what the weather does.” the man said and Jake nodded his head as he kept his eyes trained on the man on the cliff who was steadily shrinking into the distance.

“I dare say you’re right Mr. Jenkins. I dare say you’re right…” Jake muttered.

“Oh captain, are you bleeding? Should I fetch the medic?” Jenkins said, slight alarm evident in his voice.

“It’s nothing Jenkins, pay it no heed. Just the rain. Just the rain.”

A/N: So.... I promise this is not the last chapter, this story does not end here. It might take me a while to write the rest but there will be more!

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #gvf fic #josh kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fic #chris turpin #mirador

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acornsandoaktrees · 10 months ago

Note

Treat, please!! 🍬

tysm for the ask!!

i don't have time to write anything new yet so i wanted to pull from a wip within AaOT - but it was surprisingly hard to find something amongst them without even a pinch of angst 😭 so i had to dig a little deeper and pull from my sigriel fic, burning bridges

i'm still working on chapter 4; this is the first scene. the rest is... well, par for the course as far as my writing goes, it seems 😅

🔥

Sigrid regarded herself in the mirror. "I feel silly."

Smiling, Tauriel fastened the final latch on her bracers. "Nonsense. You look dashing."

The armour fit her measurements perfectly, plated gorget and pauldrons snug across her shoulders, leaving ample space to move under the quilted navy gambeson. Dale's new insignia of an arrow-pierced black dragon adorned her chest. Cloth tails swung by the sword at her side -- the same elven one, polished and shining gold in its scabbard.

If the armour felt clunky, it was only because Sigrid wasn't used to wearing anything like it. The closest thing she had ever known was a rusty mail shirt haunted by her ancestors. And that was far from close.

Her reflection frowned and brushed a hand over its gambeson, the fabric too rich for a girl from Lake Town.

"If you say so."

Fixing her sheathed daggers to her belt, Tauriel moved to stand beside her, and took in what the mirror showed.

"I do."

Nonetheless, anxiety swirled in Sigrid's stomach, and her pinched frown reflected it. Tauriel turned her by the shoulders and pulled her gently into her arms. Breathing in the fresh foreign pine scent the elf always carried, Sigrid set her chin on a joint between metal and cloth.

One hand folding through free springs of her hair, Tauriel pressed her lips to her brow and murmured, "You will do excellently."

Closing her eyes, Sigrid permitted herself a few moments more to soak in Tauriel's comfort. Then, inhaling deeply, she pulled away.

"Alright."

Moving around her, ever close, Tauriel stood at her back and placed her hands on Sigrid's shoulders. They made eye contact through the mirror.

"Ready?"

Their first official assignment as the Dale Guard: escorting King Bard on his diplomatic trip to Erebor. Dain owed him nothing but the comradery of battle, and the dwarves of Erebor had paid their debt in full. Beyond that stretched the realm of political friendship, something Sigrid was all too happy to leave in the hands of others.

She might've been thrust into the title of Princess, but that life was not hers. Nor was it Bard's, to be fair. Though he and his Council could handle the headaches if they wanted to.

Standing in front of the mirror, Sigrid decided this armour and these duties suited her much better than those of court.

"Ready."

Serving under this Captain was exactly where she wanted to be. Smile dimpled, Tauriel produced an olive ribbon from a pouch on her belt.

"For you," she said, in a whisper like wind over the hills, "my Lieutenant."

Sigrid watched in the mirror as the elf tied the ribbon below her right pauldron at the unarmoured hinge of her arm. Phantom roses bloomed upon her reflection's cheeks.

"I'll do my best."

"I know."

Trick or Treat my inbox

#lotr #the hobbit #tolkien #tolkien elves #aaotverse #acorns and oak trees #lotr au #greenwood kids #tauriel of greenwood #sigrid of dale #burning bridges fic #trick or treat ask game

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xxblairexxss · 2 years ago

Text

Jealousy

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst.

I promise my next one is gonna be fluff!

✧.* tags! @i83andrew

Charles walked into the bedroom and furrowed his brows when he saw you laying down on the bed when he was expecting to see you getting ready. “We have an event in 1 hour, Y/N. Are you serious?”

“I don’t want to go.” Your eyes were still set on your phone as you tried ignore the way he was standing at the end of the bed, glaring at your response.

“I don’t have time for this. Go and get ready.”

“I said I don’t want to go. Leave me alone.” You rolled at your eyes, loathing the way he was forcing you to attend the event with him even when there was still an ongoing issue between both of you.

He walked to your side of the bed and you could feel his gaze burning into your skull. “Don’t act like a child. You have to go to the event with me.”

“In case if you didn’t hear me the first time, I don’t want to go. I’m not in the mood.” You sat up and straighten your back against the headboard, phone still in your hand.

“You do realise you are not in a position to act like this, don’t you?” Whenever Charles and you got into an argument, it would always lasted for days because you liked having egos stacked up high in your head. And this time it was no different but you were completely sure you weren’t at fault this time.

“Oh, yeah? And you are in a right position to force me to attend the event after you accused me of flirting with other guy?” Your hand that was holding your phone now was on your side.

“It wasn’t an accusation when I saw it with my own eyes. Don’t waste my time. Go and get ready.” He seized your phone away from your hand, slamming the door on his way out.

“Asshole!” You cried out, wiping your angry tears and groaned as you threw the quilt away and headed to the closet to choose a dress for tonight.

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flash

“God, how could you be so beautiful.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and left a trail of kisses from your jawline down to your neck. “I’m so lucky.”

You giggled within every kiss and turned around to face him. “I would have kissed you if only I haven’t put on my lip gloss.” You leaned in and drew away when he pursed his lips. “Nope, no kiss!”

He moaned in desperation and brushed his lips on your jawline. “Give me a kiss or I’m gonna die.” Charles sloped down his head on your shoulder and tighten his arms around you as you squirm in his embrace. “I’m dying, baby. Faster! Give me a kiss.”

You cupped on his cheeks and cackled with laughter. “You are so silly! I can’t kiss you or you’ll get lipgloss all over your lips!”

“I don’t mind.” He quickly moved in and purloined a kiss on your lips. “Got you! Hm, strawberry?” He moistened his lips and you saw his forehead crickled as if he was ruminating.

“Yeah! It’s my new lip gloss.” You took the lip gloss from the dressing table behind you, your movement a little bit tight from his grip on your waist. “Isn’t it pretty? It was so hard to get my hand on this new shade.”

“Everything looks pretty on my beautiful girl. Can I get another kiss?”

“That’s enough!” You moved away and tried to escape from his arms and guffawed when he caught you again.

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Charles and you had been ignoring each other since last night and you found it ironic that both of you got into another argument after all those ignoring games. He had accused you of flirting with another guy when you had already told him that the guy was just your old acquaintance. Of course, he chose to not listen to your explanations and simply went with what was in mind.

You went with a wine coloured strapless maxi dress with a ruffled side slit. Charles walked in to check up on you as you were curling your hair and bit the inside of his cheek. “We are late already, Y/N.”

“Can you stop rebuking every thing I did?”

“I’ll wait in the car.” He slammed the door, again, on his way out and you heaved a sigh at the tense, cold air in the room.

The whole car ride was silence. There was only a sound coming from the radio. It felt like you were in a ride with a stranger.

“He was a friend of mine. We were just talking, Charles.” You said, tilting your head to look at him. Your hand extended to take his hand that was on his hip but he pulled away.

“Let’s talk about this later.”

“Can you please listen to what I said?” You breathed out.

“Later, Y/N.” You saw the way his grip on the steering wheel tighten and knew he wasn’t gonna listen again.

When you got off the car, Charles had his hand on your back as he smiled and waved to the media crews, disregarding all those unsettled problems between both of you. Once you got inside the building, his hand left your back but you held on to his arm before he walked away. “Please…don’t leave me alone. You know I always get anxious at social events.”

“That’s on you.” He scowled and tugged his hand away, again. “Just don’t make a scene.”

“You forced me to go with you! You can’t just ditch me. Charles!” You called him out when he strode into the crowd, didn’t bother to hear your words until the end.

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flash

You stood on your toes and leaned in to your boyfriend. He saw the way you were struggling and angled his height to match yours as you tilted to bring your lips to his ears. “My hands are sweating.”

“I know but who cares.” He straighten up with a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Can you let go of my hand? Please?”

“And leave you alone? Baby, don’t you see how many guests are here in the room with us as we speak? What if I lost you?” He tugged your hand when you tried to jerk it away.

“If you lost me, I’m always gonna be somewhere outside the venue.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Charles lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a peck on the back of it.

“I don’t know. I guess because there’s no way I would choose to still be among these…..people, way too many people without you by my side so I would probably leave and be somewhere.. like the parking lot?”

He shook his head, opposing the idea. “That’s dangerous. What if someone saw you all alone and they do something bad to you? How are you gonna call out for me?”

You pursed your lips, thinking of an answer. “Hm, actually, I don’t know.”

He let go your hand to snake his arm around your waist, pulling you against his body and kissed the side of your head. “If I ever lost you in the crowd, at any events or parties, make sure to stay inside the venue so I know you aren’t that far from me. Promise?”

“Promise.”

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Social events were not your cup of tea. If it wasn’t for Charles, you didn’t think you would even attended any of it. You didn’t even participate any social events that your company held. You didn’t know how to get into a conversation, your mind would get clouded with all these negative thoughts. You would came up with thousands of conceptions from these strangers that would torn down your confidence even when you knew it was all in your head.

Charles was at the other end of the room, fully engaged in a conversation while you were sitting at a bar section. You bet everyone in the room could see you were bored. If it wasn’t obvious enough from your expression, your actions gave it away. You kept on whirling the ring on your finger over and over, the Capricorn zodiac sign on it moved in circular within every spin. It was a birthday gift from Charles, he had given it to you when you first celebrated your birthday with him. It was a simple, carat ring from Hermès with your engraved zodiac sign on it.

“You look bored.”

You straighten your back and placed your hands on your side when the guy took the empty seat in front of you. He looked familiar but you couldn’t come up with a name.

“It’s not your thing?” The lad had a soft beam on his face when you shifted your gaze on him.

“What was that?”

“Parties are not your thing?”

“Oh, yeah. Not really.” You gave off a little smile and pushed your right part of the hair to the back of your shoulder.

“Me too.”

You cackled.

“What? I don’t look like it?” His smile went wider as he asked.

“Kinda? I mean, you look like you would have no problem mingling with the others.”

“Oh, trust me. This is much, much better.” He took a sip from his drink.

His name was Adam. He was a part of the marketing from one of the brand ambassador that was in charge of the event. He was nice. For someone you just met for like 10 minutes, you were actually surprised how well he carried the conversation. At least you weren’t left alone for the rest of the night.

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When Charles saw you walked out of the bathroom, he pulled you by your wrist which took you by surprised. You yanked your hand away and took a step back. “Charles..”

“Having fun, aren’t you?”

“What?” You breathed out, trying to catch what he was saying.

“You don’t think I’m blind, do you? Your flirting skill is truly unequalled, Y/N. What do you think am I supposed to act when I saw my girlfriend flirting with her so-called-old friend yesterday and now she’s latching herself on some other guy.”

Your eyes went moist as you held back your tears, anger flooded your veins. “Oh, I can’t even talk to people now? What am I supposed to do when my boyfriend left me alone?”

“What an excuse. That doesn’t mean you could go back to flirt around, Y/N.” He snarled.

“Oh my god, not this again! I wasn’t flirting!”

“I saw the way he touched your face and you let him. That wasn’t flirting? What if I had a girl touching my cheek?” He clicked on his tongue and sniggered.

“I had something on my cheek and he helped me! There’s nothing more than that! If you were keeping your eyes on me the whole time to see that, then you would have seen his girlfriend who joined us too.” You uttered and wiped the tears that had fallen on your cheeks.

“Are you trying to play the tears game with me? That’s not gonna work on me, Y/N. Don’t act like I’m the bad one here. Wipe those tears before someone sees.”

“I don’t understand what did I do wrong and what you wanted me to do!” You sighed in frustration.

“Out of all girls in here and you happened to be in a friendly conversation with a guy? Really? And then all of sudden, oh you got something on your cheek. Do you think I’m a fool? I ignored you for a day and you are hungry for a man’s attention already?” He scoffed in annoyance.

“I don’t know what else am I supposed to say when you aren’t gonna listen!” You walked away as a flood of tears gushed down your blushed cheeks.

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Charles was steeped in guilt. He bitterly regretted everything and he knew he had taken things too far. He didn’t feel like enjoying the night anymore but he had to, as Pierre had asked him to join the group.

“This is Adam.” Pierre said, introducing every one.

“Charles. Nice to meet you.” He shook hands with the person that his friend had addressed.

“And this is his girlfriend, Elena.”

Charles gave a slight nod to the woman and turned his head, trying to scan you amongst the crowd. He was actually keeping an eye on you earlier, the whole time. Which was why he had seen you engaging in a conversation with a guy and happened to see the way the guy leaned into you. He had been trying to search you again after you walked away in tears but you were nowhere in sight.

“I talked to your girlfriend just now. She’s a very bright girl but she seems…lonely? My girlfriend and I tried to keep her accompany as she looked like she needed a friend. I was expecting to see you with her after she excused herself but she was nowhere to be seen. Has she gone home?” Adam asked, seeing the way Charles looked as if his head wasn’t in the right place.

“No, she hasn’t.”

“Listen, I don’t wanna get involved but I feel like something’s wrong between both of you? If my assumptions was right, I still don’t think it was necessary for you to leave her alone. She looks really uncomfortable, mate. You should be with her.”

Charles felt that incessant throb in his heart, telling him to apologise for being so callous, for hurting your feelings. He couldn’t listen to any other conversations as his head started pounded with tension. The fact that he didn’t even know where you were made it worse. The picture of tears staining your face before you walked away made him suffocated. “Excuse me.” He muttered, walking away. He needed to find you. He didn’t know what he would do if something happened to you.

What the fuck have you done, Charles.

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

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mingtinys · 2 years ago

Text

[1:09 a.m.]

pairing : choi jongho x gn!reader

angst , fluff , hurt / comfort , lore based , outlaw!jongho , strictland!au

warnings : mentions of searches/raids , general ateez lore

word count : 1.0 k

requested? no

a/n : this fic is literally just the physical manifestation of how insane i feel about the trailers

You can't sleep. You're not sure how anyone can. Though it seems Yunho and Jongho have found a way, if their soft snores and still bodies are anything to go by. You can just barely make out the shape of their cots across the poorly lit room.

It's pitch back where the three of you sleep. Shut away in the musty confines that reside in the back of the mechanic shop the three of you use for cover. The door to which is concealed behind a false tool shelf. And though you know it's all in favor of staying hidden, you're not sure how much more of the space you can take tonight.

The walls echo far too much. Every noise from the outside seeps in and gets replayed on a haunting loop. Screams of rebels who couldn't escape in time. Boots stomping down the alleyway as Android Guardians begin their nightly watch. Homes being ripped apart by mandatory raids. Each sound sends your anxiety spiking through the roof.

Yunho stirs, and his cot makes a horrible creaking sound that startles you. You're surprised it doesn't wake Jongho, who recently developed the unfortunate habit of being a light sleeper. Your own cot whines under your shifting weight. The rock-solid mattress does nothing to help you relax. And the thin quilt over your legs starts to feel suffocating more than anything.

There's a shout in the distance, sirens, your body tenses. Your breathing becomes jagged and your gut screams at you to seek a way to ground yourself. You want– no, need comfort.

Your mind wanders to the two boys with you, gaze landing on Jeong Yunho first. He feels like the obvious answer. Gentle. Kind. A soft yet strong presence in a world you believed, prior to meeting him and his friends, had wiped away all that was good indefinitely. He'd probably stay up with you if asked, indulge your thoughts, and listen to your fears. Understanding and without judgment. But there's a pull at your heart and this little voice in the back of your head that pleads with you to seek out Choi Jongho instead.

A boy who, until a few months ago, you knew little about. He was the last to fully embrace you among the group of outlaws you'd stumbled upon some time ago. You never really knew what to make of him. At times, his hardened gaze and dauntless aura seemed cold. Intimidating. Unmoveable. Though it didn't seem to be out of disdain or indifference, but instead, an instinctual hesitance and innate urge to protect the only family he had left.

It wasn't until you were assigned to go undercover with him and Yunho that you finally began to understand one another on a deeper level. You told him of your past, your cause, and why you wanted to fight against the tyranny of your unjust world. And, eventually, he told you of his.

Yunho brought out a more playful side to him. And though they were rare, you had been privileged with occasional moments of carefree bliss with the two of them. You'd like to think you caught glimpses of who he might have been before all of this. When the world was okay. When he was allowed to show his emotions unfiltered.

You've grown to enjoy his peaceful and quiet nature. Seen moments of empathy and the concern that clouds his shiny eyes when Yunho cries about the unfairness of it all. Your feet carry you from your bed to Jongho's without much thought behind the action. Propelled by your growing nerves and heart slamming violently into your ribcage.

Reaching out, you gently shake his shoulder. He grumbles and turns to his side. Eyes still closed, he hums. "Mmm, what is it?" There's grogginess laced into his words, but he doesn't seem annoyed, which is good.

Still, you feel silly. Waking him up just because you're a little jumpy? Now that you're here, it even seems as though the outside noises have ceased. This is pointless, you think. But then that tiny voice in your brain pipes up once more and forces the request to form on your tongue.

"Can I stay with you for a little bit? Please." Though you whisper, your voice seems loud between the four walls and you cringe at how it echos.

Jongho peeks one eye open and you can see the gears cranking to life in his brain. He blinks a few times, looks to Yunho who's sleeping soundly, then back to you. His soft pout and half-lidded eyes don't give you much hope. For a moment, you consider rushing out an apology and returning to your own bed. But then, wordlessly, Jongho feels around for the edge of his blanket and lifts it. The metal frame of his cot squeaks as he shuffles and readjusts to create space for you to crawl in. You do. And that voice in your head finally quiets, as does the longing in your heart.

An impossibly strong arm encircles your waist and pulls you into Jongho's warmth. He cradles your head, face buried in his chest as his chin rests atop. "You're scared." He states, though you think he meant it as a question.

You wonder what gave it away first. The subtle shaking in your limbs, waver in your voice, the fact you sucked up every ounce of pride you had left just to approach him in the first place. But yeah, you are.

"Yeah."

Something metal clatters just outside and you flinch, fingers hurriedly fisting the back of Jonho's cotton shirt. He only holds you tighter.

"Me too," is all he says before letting out a long breath and allowing sleep to overtake him again. His movements still and his breathing evens out to a steady pace. You match it, letting the safety he provides guide you to your first peaceful night in a long time.

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lou-struck · 2 years ago

Text

Standing Still

Wakatoshi Ushijima x reader

~ You have been together for eight years, but it doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

Genre: Breakup Angst

This is my Submission for the teahouse's discord Dark Chocolate collab. LINK HERE

a/n: this was a bit hard to write since falling out of love is one of my biggest fears.

Waking up in total darkness to an empty bed is always sardonic. Wakatoshi's side has already been made, and his gym bag is missing from its usual spot by his dresser. No doubt training early again today.

You move aside the pillows that divide the hot and cold sections of the mattress so you can finish tucking the charcoal gray sheets and smoothing the quilted down just so. With the bed made, you move about your comfortably quiet apartment, making yourself some breakfast and a coffee just the way you like it. Its warmth washes over you like a blanket as you sit at the small kitchen table.

Your bored scrolling through your phone leads you to Snapchat, where the little red dot at the bottom of your screen entices you to see what memories from years past the app will be showing you.

The first image looks to be from eight years ago; it's just a mirror selfie of you wearing an absolutely stunning red dress in your old bedroom with a black bar caption that reads Date-Ready.

You furrow your brows as you scroll to the next memory, a video, You and Wakatoshi feeding each other spoonfuls of dessert at another restaurant, a pinkish tint to both of your cheeks as you giggle and stare at each other as if you are the only two people in the world.

It makes you smile as you scroll to the next one, the two of you riding in a horse-drawn carriage around the brick-paved streets of the Historic District. His Black jacket is wrapped comfortably around your shoulders. You lean against his muscle frame for warmth while he grips the reigns and stares forward with a soft smile on his usually stoic face.

The fourth is a silly one of the two of you stuck in a glass elevator of the luxury hotel he had booked for the two of you. After one too many glasses of champagne you mistook the emergency fire button for your floor number and were stuck behind the glass walls for an hour. The two of you missed your dinner reservation but ended up ordering all the desserts off of the room service menu.

you let out a little snort as you remember how gently he carried you out of the heart-shaped bathtub you insisted you wanted to sleep in it instead of the bed. That year was such a great anniversary.

Anniversary?

Shit!

Today is your eight-year anniversary with Wakatoshi Ushijima; you curse yourself for not remembering the date as you click to the next memory. It's another snap of the two of you at a candlelit restaurant. The light of his phone screen illuminates his face as he smiles at the camera. You don't know why, but you don't even know if you'd call this a memory. Try as you might, you can't seem to remember anything special about that night.

Your fingers move to tap the screen and check the next one, only to find that year five was the last one you recorded, the other two are just as forgettable. A sour taste fills your mouth as you reach the bottom of your coffee cup and stare at the fifth image, trying to decipher whatever loving fondness you have behind that date.

"God dammit!" You slam your hand into the table in frustration before you stand up and toss your phone over to the couch. it bounces harmlessly on the cushions as you rush to the bathroom and hopes that splashing a bit of cold water on your face will help soothe the sickening feeling sloshing around in your stomach.

Your heart feels as if it is getting squeezed by the air in your lungs as your boyfriend's keys jingle the lock of your front door.

And suddenly, it says if you forgot how to breathe. You don’t know what to do with yourself, do you stand? Do you sit? How are you ever going to bring this up?

After far too long, the jingling stops, and he comes into the room, plopping his gym bag down and closing the door behind him.

When he sees you, he gives you a smile, the smile that used to set forth the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. But now, the only thing you feel is shame.

“Y/n, I’m home,” he says, walking past you and to the fridge where he grabs one of his bottle protein drinks that remind you of liquid drywall. He downs it in quick gulps and tosses the empty container in the recycling bin before looking at your face.

“You look upset,” is something the matter?” he asks, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. But you push it away, afraid of crumbling under his gentle touch.

"Do you know what day it is today, Toshi?" you ask quietly, looking up at the handsome man In front of you.

“Tuesday?” he answers matter o factly. But one look at your face tells him that Tuesday is not the right answer. “There’s something else, isn't there.”

You let out a dry chuckle and nod, “I guess you could say that. It’s our eighth year anniversary.”

He looks a bit confused and taps his smartwatch to see the date a. “Oh….”

His response makes you feel sick to your stomach, and in that moment, you know exactly what is going to be happening tonight. And it’s definitely not dinner. “Oh…”

His olive eyes glaze over a bit as he follows you into the bedroom, “Y/n, I’m sorry. I can make us a reservation somewhere.

“I forgot too, Toshi. It’s not just you.”

Letting out a deep sigh, you sit down on the edge of the bed, rubbing your temples in frustration. “What are we even doing, Wakatoshi?”

You feel the mattress dip as he sits down next to you and lets out a deep sigh of his own. “I don’t..I don’t know.”

You grab his hand and take a breath; “We aren't going anywhere, are we?”

He stares straight ahead of him as his voice cracks, “No, I’m sorry.” The innocently sorrowful expression on his face makes him look more like a kid than a pro athlete.

Your thumb rubs small circles across the back of his large hand. "It's not your fault; we both just have been kinda, umm."

"Standing still." His breath comes out shakily as he takes his hand out of your hold. “Should we?”

It’s vague, but you know exactly what he is insinuating. You swallow the lump in your throat and meet his gaze, hoping that you’ll be able to feel the love you have felt for him all those years. “I think, we need we need to break up.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again as if it is his fault you are in this situation. “But I think there is no other choice.”

“D-do, do you hate me?” you ask.

He cups your face tenderly; the movement is natural, caring. But not romantic. “I could never hate you.”

“And I could never hate you,” you say, wrapping your arms around him for the last time. “I really wanted this to work.”

His lips gently kiss the top of your forehead. “Me too…”

He stands up and clears his throat, “I will be back tomorrow to pick up my stuff,”

You nod and watch him walk towards the door, but before he steps into the hallway, he pauses at the door.

His stoic features turn toward you, his frown looks more like a scowl, but he never was that good at expressing his emotions. “I’m sorry, y/n. I really wanted to be the one to fall in love with you.”

“I know, Toshi.” you say with your voice cracking pitifully. “I wish it could have ended differently.”

You still don’t say anything as he once again turns. His heavy footsteps echo through the hallway before disappearing completely. Even as the lights of his car flood the darkened street,

You cannot find it in yourself to cry; you just sit there watching him go for the last time.

#hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #hq ushijima #wakatoshi ushijima #hq angst #haikyuu angst #teahouse collab: dark chocolates #x reader #ushijima

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banananutsmuthie · 3 years ago

Text

Tempur-Pedic

Idol(s): Yeji [ITZY]

Word Count: 4.3k+ words

Content Advisory: The story leans heavily into breeding. Any other potential trigger warnings are in the A/N at end of story to prevent possible spoilers.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! And for those who don't celebrate it, I hope you have a wonderful Singles Awareness Day (aka SAD) tomorrow instead! Enjoy this bratty(ish) Yeji piece I wrote for the occasion! Also, despite the opening paragraphs, not angst.

4:40 AM.

The light from the street lamp just outside the bedroom window leaked through the thin curtains. Yeji always asked why you didn’t just replace them with blackout curtains if it was so bothersome. That was never the problem, though. Somehow, Yeji knew too, but always suggesting to replace the curtains was her way of making you feel better. In reality, it was the thoughts inside your head that kept you awake at night.

She deserves much better than me. She's way above my league. I’m fucking this up so badly.

Every little excuse crept into your mind on why you shouldn’t be with her. It was a never-ending struggle of anxiety almost every night for the last two months. Not even the chirping of crickets or the humming of cars passing by dared to console you at this early hour.

I should break up with her. She really is too good for me.

You looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand at the opposite side of the bed. It was 4:42 AM now.

In the darkness, the bedroom door slowly opened and a slender shadow crept into the room on tiptoes. For a second, your heart pumped adrenaline, your fight-or-flight response preparing you to take on the intruder if needed. Then you remembered it was just Yeji, just like it’s always been for almost every morning for the last two months. She was always horny for cock at this hour.

She slowly closed the door behind her, careful not to wake the other occupants in the house.

She was draped in a long white silk button up that made it look like she wasn’t wearing any shorts or panties underneath, which, on most nights, was usually the case. Yeji’s fingers twirled around her braided pigtails that were adorned with red ribbons at the ends. It was the same way she had her hair configured the first time she mischievously strolled into the bedroom. Everything about her was just so cute, so loveable, and so fuckable, but tonight even more so.

Yeji floated toward you on the hardwood floor, carefully sidestepping certain planks that she knew would creak and cause a ruckus. She had grown accustomed to the location of those noisy fuckers by the end of your first week with her, but now she just looked like a silly untrained dancer trying to waltz toward the bed.

The artificial light that cut through the curtains sliced at her body as her random steps across the floor brought her closer. It shone through Yeji's white top that was just slightly thicker than the curtains. Her aroused nipples poked through the thin fabric, confirming that she, indeed, was not wearing anything underneath. Below, there was a stain of some sort that made the oversized shirt a slightly darker white in an area near her crotch. She was definitely already wet.

“Hey there, lover boy,” Yeji whispered as she started to climb on top of the bed, peeling off the quilted comforter that kept your naked body warm. She loved that you slept with no clothes—it made things easier for her.

“It’s almost 5 AM, Yeji! Where the fuck were you?” you whispered back.

Yeji’s knees pressed into the bed as she straddled you while her squishy ass pressed against your thighs. Her cold hands grabbed onto you, fetching some morning wood that was absolutely essential for Yeji's morning routine of fueling her heat. “Sorry, I was feeling a little sick earlier. I’m ready now.”

Yeji was reliable enough to serve as a makeshift clock. She was usually in the bedroom at 4:30 AM, enough time before her various schedules for the day.

You hated that your girlfriend always had to be up by 5 in the morning, but it was a necessity, a requisite of the idol lifestyle that she chose. Still, Yeji could’ve chosen a better time to be hungry for cock. It was already a challenge trying to fuck her without disturbing anyone still enjoying their slumber. It was going to be even harder with the late start. It was 4:43 AM, the dangerous game Yeji was playing now on the hardest difficulty setting.

“Oh, is this a new bed?” Yeji’s hand sank into the memory foam. “Shit, this is one of those beds that you can place a glass of wine on and it won’t spill no matter how much you jump on it, right?” She confirmed her hypothesis by violently rubbing her hand into the mattress, watching as the rest of the bed remained undisturbed.

“Yeah, it’s a Tempur-Pedic. Just got delivered today. It’s supposed to help with my lack of sleep.”

“We both know that’s not the reason you can’t get any sleep,” Yeji said with a sly smile. “You just can’t say no to this pussy, can you?” Yeji lifted her hand from the mattress and watched the memory foam erase her handprint, just the first of many memories that Yeji was planning to imprint on the forgetful bed. Then, she pinched the bottom of her shirt and lifted it up slightly to reveal her wet entrance that was now rubbing the underside of your shaft.

“Yeji, we need to talk.”

“Not now, it’s already 4:44. We barely have time as it is. Plus, it’s a special day.”

“Special day?”

“I guess you forgot. Maybe this will help you remember.”

Yeji undid the button at the top of her shirt. It parted slightly, teasing you with her cleavage. She undid the next one, her breasts so close, yet so far, to being all yours. Every button undone revealed more and more of her delectable mounds and tight core until there was nothing left to unbutton. She slipped out of the silk and tossed it to the ground.

“Now that we don’t have to worry about the bed squeaking, I want you to fuck me harder than you’ve ever fucked me before.”

“But, Yej—” Before you could protest, Yeji shoved her finger against your lips.

“No, I said no talking! I wanna make today memorable.” She shifted herself upward on your body, her weight now square on your stomach while your cock grazed against her ass cheeks. She leaned forward until your face was smothered between her breasts, a pacifier of sorts that made you forget what you wanted to discuss with her.

“You know what I want,” she said. Yeji had a thing for breast play. The only way to escape the suffocating scenario was to lick your way out.

Your hands slid up her thighs, then up the sides of her torso until they cupped Yeji’s breasts from the sides. Yeji let out a whimper as your thumbs started to gently massage her, rubbing in circular motions and working their way toward her nipples. From between her breasts, you massaged her with your tongue, Yeji now feeling the multi pronged assault on her chest.

“Do the left one today.” With only one mouth and two needy breasts, there was always a decision to make on which one was going to get nibbled on since there wasn’t enough time to do both. You leaned over to your right, tongue now circling around Yeji’s areola on her left breast while your left thumb finally converged on her right.

“God, you’re so good with my tits.” Yeji’s sharp claws repeatedly jabbed into your stomach, rubbing herself while she enjoyed the stimulation on her breasts. Yeji then pulled away. Usually, she’d let you linger longer, but she was aware there wasn’t enough time before she had to get ready for the day.

She lifted off your stomach, grabbing your stiff shaft and aligning it with her entrance. Her knees pressed into the mattress again as she sank onto your cock. Her warmth from her earlier solo session made it easy to penetrate her, and before you knew it, your cock was fully enveloped between her pink wet lips.

Yeji bounced up and down, reveling in the fact that she no longer had to restrain herself with the new bed.

“God, you’re so good,” Yeji whispered. “I don’t know why you didn’t get this bed sooner!”

The new Tempur-Pedic was definitely making sex with Yeji much more enjoyable. You grabbed onto her thighs while Yeji worked her magic. She had some sort of magical quality about her that no other girl you’ve been with possessed. In a way, she was a memory foam mattress herself. Her space was soft and inviting like a good bed. She was tight, and yet your cock seemed to be tailor-made inside her pussy that memorized every minute detail the further you sank into her. And just like a memory foam mattress, she returned to maintaining the same fit just like the first time; she was definitely someone you looked forward to seeing every night.

But then, the anxiety and self-doubt started to creep in again. You looked at your girlfriend and only saw a future filled with despair.

What am I doing here? She’ll never be happy with me.

Yeji could tell something was off when you unsqueezed her thighs and laid there in self-pity without a care for the pretty naked girl riding your cock.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Yeji asked.

“I think I wanna break up,” you confessed.

Yeji stopped thrusting for a second, stunned at the revelation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I think I wanna break up,” you repeated.

“And you thought the best time to bring this up was when I’m literally fucking you?” Yeji started grinding on you again. She was more concerned about cumming. She had no interest in talking about breakups.

“I mean, I literally only see you in the mornings. You’re always so busy with idol life, when else can I talk about it?”

“Have you even thought this through? Because what you’re telling me is you no longer want to see this hot piece of ass walking through that door every morning and giving you the thrill of your life. Is that what you really want?”

The self-doubt that had been locked in your mind finally began to bubble to the surface. “I don’t think I should be in a relationship. I’m not worthy. I’m not deserving.”

Yeji glanced at the alarm clock to ascertain the time. It was 4:49 AM now. “Ugh! Can you stop being a pussy for eleven minutes and start fucking one instead?”

“Or what?” you challenged Yeji. It was starting to annoy you that she wasn’t listening. She seemed to only care about her own self-interests.

“Or what? Gee, I don’t know, how about I moan out your name loudly so everyone in this house will hear me? Or how about I wait until that alarm rings at 5 o’clock and I walk out of this room naked. You think the housemates will like that when they see my naked body just strutting out of this room like a used slut while I tell them what a terrible person you are? That you only used me because you wanted a story to tell your friends of how you fucked a member of Itzy and then kicked me to the side of the road like trash? Is that what you want? You know, a lot of Midzy would kill to be in your position. Don’t you know how lucky you are? Why are you ruining such a good thing here?”

She had all the leverage; you definitely didn’t want to wake up the rest of the house at this ungodly hour, especially not to a naked Yeji spouting off all your dirty little secrets.

There was silence while Yeji awaited your response. She knew you weren't gonna answer. “Ugh! You don’t wanna break up! Just finish fucking me and we’ll talk about this later. I guarantee you won’t want to break up once you've had some sense fucked into you.” There would be time later to talk about this, it seemed. Yeji just wanted to get off before that alarm went off.

You looked over at the alarm: 4:50 AM now. Then you looked at your girlfriend. In that moment, her beautiful face was a beacon of light, one that washed out any shadows of doubt that still lingered in your mind about your relationship. She was perfect, glowing even in darkness. Even with all your flaws, she still wanted to be with you. How could you give that up? And Yeji was right: a lot of other people would kill to be in your position. Maybe you didn't want to break up with her after all. No good decision was ever made this early in the morning. It was worth at least giving it some time before coming to any conclusion.

“Okay, fine. We'll talk about it later. We have 10 minutes before the alarm goes off, so let's hurry this up.”

“Yay! That's what I like to hear,” Yeji said as she swayed faster back and forth on your cock. She had never gone so fast before: she was too afraid of the springs in the old bed giving away the early morning debauchery. Her tight tummy glistened. Her breasts swung freely and dripped saliva onto your stomach. She threw her head back in a pleasure she hadn’t felt before.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Yeji whispered.

Yeji’s knees squeezed at your hips as she leaned forward, her hands pushing against your chest to keep her from falling completely. Yeji clamped tightly onto your cock, making sure to feel every inch inside her as a wave of her juices washed against your shaft. Every part of her body was glistening with some bodily fluid by now. When she was done, she stopped to admire the bed again.

“I’m really loving this new bed! But can we change positions? I’m exhausted.” Yeji rolled off to the side.

“Be careful,” you warned her as you got up from the bed. Yeji took your place, getting on all fours and begging you to take her from behind. You grabbed onto her hips and stuck yourself back into Yeji’s wetness. With not much time left before she had to get ready, you started hard and fast hoping to find your own orgasm.

“Tell me you love me,” Yeji commanded.

“Come on. Really, Yeji?” She had never been this manipulative before. Something about today just really brought out the worst in her. Maybe because you just told her you wanted to break up. Maybe she wanted bragging rights, another trophy she could flaunt in front of all the girls you’ve loved before. Either way, you never told your girlfriend that you loved her. The fact that Yeji was holding her pussy hostage for three words was absolutely diabolical.

“Fine. I love you,” you told her as you continued to pound her from behind. Your hand moved off her hip, gently caressing her clit with two fingers in a circular motion.

“I love you...what?” Yeji asked.

You let out a sigh. There was no use fighting it. Yeji’s walls tightened around you; she was too good to stop now. Whatever Yeji wanted, Yeji got. This was no exception.

“I love you, Yeji.” There it was. It felt wrong coming out of your mouth for the first time, but strangely enough, it turned both of you on. Her walls clenched again. Another gush of warm bodily fluids exited from her and dripped onto your thighs. Yeji must’ve really loved hearing that you loved her.

“Now tell me who owns your cock.”

“Yeji owns my cock.”

Heated by the moment, the sound of skin slapping against skin crescendoed with a light reverb in the room. Who cared if it was loud? Yeji really did own your cock and there was nothing you could do to stop the seductress from getting what she wanted.

But then Yeji knocked on the wall with an open palm. “Do you hear that everyone? He said Yeji owns his cock!”

You pushed her face into the mattress, holding her there to prevent any other loud mutterings from leaving her mouth.

“Come on, Yeji! People are sleeping, have some respect!”

Yeji tilted her head to the side as you continued fucking her from behind. “What? It’s a special day and I just want people to know how in love you are.”

“If I let you go, will you promise to keep your voice down?” you asked her.

“No,” she said with a laugh. “I want you to punish me for being a bad girl. We have this new bed to fuck around now and no one’s gonna fuck you like I do. Rough me up as hard as you want!”

The things that were coming out of this girl’s mouth were incredibly filthy, but you’ve never felt this kind of freedom before. You still had to worry about keeping her quiet, but with the new bed, at least you no longer had to worry about the bed squeaking. You could fuck her as roughly as you wanted.

“So you want rough, you naughty girl?”

You slapped her on the ass, leaving a pink handprint that glowed in the low light. Yeji squealed in surprise, but again, it was too loud for your liking. You pushed her face back down into the mattress, muffling the moans that were continually coming out of that tattle tale mouth.

“What did I just say? Keep it down!” you told her. “Nod into the mattress if you understand.”

Yeji shook her head instead. You tugged at her pigtails and brought her back up. “I said nod if you understand.”

“I’ll do what I want!” Yeji said.

“Yeji, we don’t have time for this! We’re both so fucked if you’re not in the shower by 5!”

Yeji was still enjoying her pigtails being pulled. “Who cares? You told me you loved me, I’m satisfied,” she said as she turned her head and stuck out her tongue.

She was starting to get annoying, but in a way, seeing Yeji being so defiant was such a turn on. Who knew she could be so naughty? But she really did need to be in the shower by 5. Any other result would not end well.

“Come on Yeji, please.”

“Fine, but only on one condition: blow your load in me. Make me your cum dump.” It wasn’t a new request. Yeji always loved the feeling of cum in her pussy, but she never begged for it like she was begging now.

The clock now read 4:56. You flipped her over and slammed her into the bed. Yeji’s legs hung in the air and you reinserted yourself. Every thrust reached further and further into her, your cock becoming numb to the feeling of Yeji’s pussy doing its best to squeeze all that cum out.

“F-fuck, yes!” Yeji let out. “I know you got so much cum saved up for your naughty little girl. No one can make you cum like I do.”

You covered Yeji’s mouth, but it still wasn’t enough to keep her from talking. She wanted everyone in the house to know just how well she was getting fucked. Even through your hand, she was able to let out muted moans. It would do for now; if no one else in the house had woken up yet from Yeji’s earlier antics, there was no way they’d be up from her covered mouth.

You went faster as Yeji’s knees knocked against her chest with every thrust. Her feet banged against the headboard, but it was too late to stop her now. The feeling of sweet relief finally overcame you, releasing seed into Yeji just like she asked. You could feel Yeji’s lips curling into a smile underneath your hand that covered her mouth, satisfied that she had milked every last drop into her pussy. You rolled off her and onto a spot on the bed next to her. You watched as Yeji laid there for a moment, stuffing two fingers into her entrance and feeling the load you just dumped in her. She looked back and smiled but then hastily got up when she realized what time it was.

The memory foam where she laid filled in the imprint of her body until the mattress was back to its normal shape; it was almost like she was never there. She picked up her shirt from the floor, but rather than putting it back on, she held it between her legs, using it to catch any excess cum that dripped out of her before it spilled onto the floor.

“See you tomorrow! And happy anniversary, lover boy!” Yeji whispered as she slipped out of the room and quietly closed the door behind her. Her footsteps echoed in the empty hall as another door creaked open and closed. The gentle drops of water spouting out of the shower head could be heard from across the hallway. She was used to heading straight to the shower after her daily dose of cum. It was like clockwork by now—cumming anywhere else but inside her would've been too messy to deal with anyway.

The clock on the nightstand now read 4:59 AM—just enough time to catch a wink of sleep before the alarm went off. Your mind had other plans in the post-nut clarity.

Fuck. I forgot it's our anniversary. Didn't even get her a fucking present. I really should break up with her. She deserves someone who loves her and can provide for her, not some broke Itzy fan who can memorize fan chants but can't seem to remember anniversaries.

*bzzt bzzt bzzzzt*

5:00 AM on the dot. The alarm reverberated loudly against the bedroom walls. It was always way too loud for your liking, but there was nothing you could do: it was your girlfriend’s room, and any alarm volume lower than that would be too low for her to hear.

You heard a click and the alarm finally turned off, replaced by rustling on the other side of the California King bed. Lia’s warm naked body cuddled against yours under the sheets, her arm wrapping around your torso as her soft lips pressed against your cheek. She opened her eyes halfway, still entranced in a dream state.

You hated that your girlfriend always had to be up by 5 in the morning, but it was a necessity, a requisite of the idol lifestyle that she chose. Sleeping in her bed meant the early morning was also an inherited lifestyle for you as well.

“Mmm... Morning, babe,” she let out in her husky morning voice, “were you finally able to get some sleep?”

Your response was curt: “No.”

Lia was always concerned about your insomnia that had been going on for the last two months. She hoped the new Tempur-Pedic bed she bought would help with that, unaware of the real reason for your sleepless nights. She produced a pout as she kissed you again with half-lidded eyes.

“Ah, I’m sorry, babe. On the bright side, this new Tempur-Pedic really has been doing wonders for my sleep. At least now I don’t feel all your tossing and turning from your side of the bed in the middle of the night. It was starting to get pretty bad lately.”

I really don’t deserve her.

Across the hallway, Yeji was still enjoying her early morning shower. Her loud voice belted out the English lyrics to “Mafia In the Morning”—they were scheduled to perform it later for some American late night talk show.

Yeji ran through her part: “I’ma break in, break in, break in like a caper movie.”

But then she ran through some lines that weren’t even hers: they were Lia’s. “Well it’s finally, finally time to make up your mind. Hope you’re ready, who knows what could happen in the night?”

It was a twisted, cruel joke. Yeji knew exactly what she was doing, belting out Lia’s lyrics and rubbing it in her face that she was fucking her friend’s boyfriend on her own bed. And of all days, she just had to pick this day to subtly jab Lia. She knew Lia would be up by now to hear her.

“Sounds like Yeji unnie is already up,” Lia said in her groggy voice. “I don’t know how she gets up so early, she’s been beating everyone to the shower for the past two months. Been sounding really cheerful too, like she’s been getting some really good dick.”

She didn’t know, did she? She couldn’t possibly know, right?

Under the sheets, your girlfriend's fickle fingers tickled your torso and made their way down to your cock. Lia was surprised to feel it was already hard and leaking cum. Maybe it was because she was still in a dream state, but she didn't seem to care. She was giving you a gift, and gifts were blind to infidelity. Still, it was so hard to enjoy. The thought that Lia might know about Yeji weighed too heavily. You just had to know what she knew.

“What do you mean by Yeji getting good dick?” you asked her.

“Can you keep a secret? She hasn’t told the rest of the members, but she’s been having morning sickness lately.”

“She’s pregnant!?”

“Shh! Don’t tell anyone, but she’s making me the godmother. Play your cards right and maybe you’ll get to be the godfather. But anyway, that’s not important right now. Today’s all about us.”

Yeji stopped singing. The only thing that could be heard in the early morning light and your stunned silence was the sound of Lia continuing to stroke you. Lia’s luscious lips kissed you on the cheek once more before she congratulated you on a very important milestone.

“Happy one-year anniversary, babe. I love you.”

A/N: Obligatory disclaimer that this is a work of fiction. This should be obvious, but you shouldn't cheat IRL. This is also NOT a paid advertisement for the Tempur-Pedic brand 😁. Dedicated to @kaedewrites as an homage to this masterpiece

#kpop smut #itzy smut #yeji smut #reader insert #male reader

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raewritez · 4 years ago

Text

Firelight | Howl Pendragon

warnings: mentions of friskiness, Howl being a Sad Boy™, yearning, angst

word count: 4.3k

The warmth of the castle is a welcome embrace.

Outside, the moon shines with the brightness of a thousand suns, its beams cast along the ground all the way from Ingary. Wisps of clouds decorate the sky - angel wings hung from the heavens. Familiar creaking fills your ears and you smile, hand gripping the doorknob.

You're greeted with a glow from Calcifer's hearth, a sight that pulls your lips upwards. It's been a while. He doesn't seem to have noticed you yet and you walk forward, a grin resting upon your lips. Your wrists are clasped behind your back and you beam at the fire, his eyes finally snapping to yours.

"Y/n," he exclaims, "You're back!" He coughs a bit, attempting to veil his excitement. "I mean, it's been a while."

"It has," you say, gazing playfully at the demon. "How've you been, Cal?"

He grumbles. "Awful. Howl moped for weeks after you left."

Your smile falters if only a bit, guilt pulling at your heartstrings. "Oh, sorry about that," you straighten up, reassuming your cheery demeanor that the fire couldn't deny he'd grown fond of. "I figured you'd all want a break from me intruding on your home."

Calcifer scoffs. "It's not intruding if you're here everyday. Besides, Markl was sad when you left. He misses you."

"I miss him, too," you sigh, images of the copper-headed boy playing in your mind. "He's here?"

"Obviously, where else would he be?"

"And Howl? Is he here, too?"

A sort of grimace takes over his face. "Uh, not exactly." You raise an eyebrow, and he sighs. "He's been spending most nights in town...you know. Ever since you left. But, uh, he'll be back in the morning."

You feel yourself deflate, your limbs suddenly feeling very heavy and your throat suddenly aches. "Oh."

You were well accustomed with the name Howl had made for himself across the many towns the castle found refuge, of the rumors and the truths behind them. He who ate hearts - it was silly, really. But he'd made a reputation as a jilter, the desired lover of the nation. That Howl seemed so different from the one you held dear, and you found it hard to believe that the man who gazed at you with such fondness and loved his family so unabashedly could so carelessly discard the hearts of women. You guess you've been naive.

Calcifer's stare softens, a rare sincerity overtaking his voice. "He's an idiot," he whispers.

You shake your head, a bitter smile on your lips. "No. Maybe I am."

"No, Y/n. You should've seen how upset he was after you left. Markl and I were worried he would summon the spirits of darkness again." You chuckle, Calcifer joining in. "I don't know why he does it," he spoke softly, carefully. "But I do know he's better when you're around. He hasn't done this in a long time, but when you left...it was like he became his old self again."

You look down, tracing the curves of the cobblestone. "He can do what he wants. He's a grown man."

Something akin to a snort left the fire. "As if you could call him that. Hey, look, don't get too upset. If he knew that...I mean, he would never-"

"It's ok, Cal," you speak, an acquiescent smile on your face. "I'm the one who left, right?"

"Right," he sighs, sensing the end of the conversation. "So, how was traveling, anyway? See anything cool?"

"Loads," you say wistfully. "It was so beautiful, Cal, I wish you could've seen it."

"Ehh, that's ok. Someone has to keep this place running."

///

"Y/n!"

You're woken to something heavy on your bed, your shoulders being shaken by hands that were not your own. Peeling your eyes open, you caught a glimpse of red: a figure clad in a white nightgown perched atop your quilt. A grin breaks through your sleepy face.

"Markl!"

He giggles, and you wish you could bottle the sound and keep it forever. His small frame launches forward, arms wrapping around you and face pressed into your neck. "I missed you," he mumbles. You run your fingers through his hair, keeping him pressed against you.

"I missed you, too, kid."

You stay like that for a few minutes, his soft breathing warming your skin and sending unbearable fondness to your heart. After a while you sit up, bringing the boy with you. "How are you, Markl?" you ask, brushing a copper strand behind his ear.

He fights back a yawn. "I'm good! Howl's been teaching me a lot, I even managed to cast a rune spell the other day!"

"That's amazing! You're growing up so fast," you say, reaching out to ruffle his hair. He scrunches his nose, swatting your hand away playfully. "Not really," he says, and you smile. You'd be glad for that.

In the kitchen, you converse with the child as you always had - soft teasings and gentle remarks, a ruffle of hair here and there and a pinch to his side. His laughter was sunlight and you felt warm - happy and at home in your castle with your little bunch of misfits.

Of course, there was still one missing.

Your conversation with the boy is cut short at the sound of a turning doorknob, and you feel your heart rise to your throat. In your welcome you'd almost forgotten your dread, and you do not have enough time to prepare. So when you see him, standing in the doorway with morning silk and sun against his back, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

He's dressed in his usual flamboyant robes, and at first glance you'd have noticed nothing different. But at closer look you saw it - the wrinkles of his clothes, the bruises on his neck, the messiness of his hair, golden in the dawn. You feel a turning in your stomach, and fire across your skin. You swallow, and his eyes meet yours.

For a moment his gaze his gilded, bleary with what you presume to be tiredness after an eventful night. But then they alight, and a smile pulls his lips and he whispers your name. You try to smile back. "Howl," you nod.

Then suddenly his smile doesn't seem so bright anymore, and his eyes darken into something you can't quite decipher. Nervousness? Fear? Caution? He runs a hand through his hair, and pulls his robe so that the collar covers his neck. He walks up the stairs slowly, eyes darting. It seems like hours before he finally arrives at the table side, ring-adorned fingers tracing the wood delicately.

"Markl," he says, and his voice is like velvet. "Would you mind getting breakfast started?"

"Sure, Master Howl," Markl says and he leaps up from his chair, trotting across the floor and into the pantry.

Howl's eyes fall on you once again, drinking you in. They fall on a scar, white against your forehead, and his brows furrow. He raises a hand and his finger traces the mark, the blueness of his eyes clouded with an emotion you cannot name. His arm falls back to his side.

"How were the wilds?"

"Good," you say, and your tongue itches for more. "How...how were things here?"

"Fine," he says stiffly. You scoff.

"Sounded more than fine, from what Calcifer told me. Seems you've been keeping yourself quite busy."

Howl shrinks on himself for a moment, and you can see a flash of guilt in his eyes. Then, he emerges back to himself, all steely stares and bitterness. "And what about you?" he says sharply, his deep voice a scratch upon your skin. "You were gone for months, gallivanting your way across Ingary while we stayed here. You left, and you expected me to wait sadly for your return?"

Your nose crinkles, and you feel an uncomfortable heat rising in your chest. "Oh, of course not. The infamous Howl Pendragon waits for no one, isn't that right?"

His eyes are dark, and he opens his mouth to say something before a childish voice cuts through.

"I have eggs, Master Howl! Can you get Calcifer to cook them?"

Howl's gaze lingers on you a moment longer, and he pulls away from you to stand. "Sure, Markl. Thank you."

You stare at the ground, feeling hot and irritated and bothered. Howl walks away from you, taking the box of eggs from Markl's hands to start breakfast. You miss the glare that Calcifer sends his way.

///

Howl awakes to a the sound of a train horn, the rattling of the dingy hostel he'd spent the night in shaking the windows and the table at his bedside. He peels his eyes open against the piercing sunlight, raising a hand to shield his gaze. For a moment he forgets where he is, what he's doing here, but the shifting of the warm body next to his brings the memories back to him in a flash.

He feels a pit form in his stomach, a sour taste rising in his mouth. He glances over at the sleeping form - Violet, he thinks her name is, and becomes painfully aware of the scratchiness of the sheets against his skin, of the unbearable warmness emanating from the sleeping woman beside him.

He jumps from the bed abruptly, pulling down the quilt and settling his feet upon the cool hardness of the wooden floor. Violet is still sleeping, and he gets dressed. Pulling on his dress shirt and pants and grabbing his robe from its place on the floor, he makes his way towards the door. He glances back, feeling entirely indecent and cruel. Just like he used to be. He knows it's wrong to leave her behind without so much as a goodbye, it's not her fault that he's so stricken and lovesick and lonely, but she will be the one who wakes up to the aftermath of another one of his mistakes. But he's selfish and regretful, and so he creaks open the door and walks out.

He hates himself. He hates what he was doing and the person he was acting as - the person he'd once been. He knows it's wrong, and he knows he'll get another judgmental look from Calcifer when he walks through the castle doors, but Calcifer couldn't hand out anything he hadn't already given to himself. The disappointment, the judgement, the truth. The truth of the reason he was acting like this. That reason he knows, and it's currently off somewhere far away in Ingary.

He can't dwell on it, though, else he'll end up in another pit of despair and longing - far too aware of his attachment for his liking.

Loneliness had never been a problem for Howl, and maybe that's why he'd been dealing with it so poorly. Before, he hadn't had any attachments, any people that upon their separation from him, he would feel like his world was collapsing. He had come and gone as he pleased, stealing the hearts of young women only to crush them the next day, moving from town to town in his castle with nobody to care about than himself.

That was until about a year and a half ago, when you came along. You'd caught Howl's attention the moment he laid eyes on you - eager, friendly, fearless and beautiful. He'd approached you, offering his suave words and charming smile, already coming up with ways to win you over and have his fun. But you'd only laughed, teasing him and telling him that you were new in town, and you weren't looking to have your heart broken just yet. You intrigued him, and he found himself wanting to learn more about you than just the curves of your body or the feel of your lips.

Weeks passed and the conversations grew, and he found himself developing a sort of fondness for the girl who drew his attention with stories of her hometown, with teasings and friendly banter and a hand stretched towards him in an offering of closeness. An olive branch, a welcome. Friendship and closeness - concepts Howl was painfully unfamiliar with, but seemed so natural when they came from you.

Eventually, the two of you became so close that he'd offered for you to move into the castle, and that was the beginning of everything.

But now you were gone, you'd left him just like he'd left all the others. And it stung, and as much as he pretended that he didn't care, or that he could replace you with nights of shallow banter and artificial closeness, his chest ached with every moment you stayed away. He knows you'll return, you had no plans to leave him forever, but he can't help but feel bitter at the fact that you'd left him at all. But he's fine! He's fine. Really, he can't feel any pain at all, spare for the bruises across his neck.

He looses himself in the trek back to the castle, eyes cast to the ground and mind lost in the clouds - in pretending and wishes and memories. He's so lost in thought that he almost misses the castle parked upon the hill outside the town. He finds himself at the door, and he thinks he hears a laugh. One all too familiar, and it sends a pang through his heart. It was just his tired mind playing tricks on him.

But when he opens the door, letting the warmth of the castle wash over him in a wave of air, his eyes fall on you. You. You, you you. You're here, sitting truly right before his eyes, and he can't restrain the smile that takes over his face. You turn your head and your just as beautiful as you've always been, and he sees your eyes light up and your lips beginning to pull. But then your gaze moves downwards, to the mess of his hair and the crumple of his clothes, to the flush of his skin. His name leaves your lips, and he suddenly feels very aware of the purple blossoming across his neck, and he reaches for his cloak as if to shade it from your eyes. All of the shame comes rushing back at once.

He walks to you, feeling uncharacteristically insecure. He stops at the table, eyes seemingly interested in the markings of the wood. He speaks to his apprentice, "Markl, would you mind getting breakfast started?" He agrees immediately, chipper as ever, and races away, leaving Howl alone with you.

He conjures the courage to look at you, and his gaze is drawn to a small marking on your forehead. A scar, streaked in white and pink. It hadn't been there before, he was sure. He'd spent enough moments memorizing you to recognize the new detail. His brows furrow, a concern flickering through his body at the small, almost insignificant mark. He raises his fingers to your face, and the trace the skin delicately, and he feels a spark run through him. He retracts his hand quickly.

A moment, then another, of uncomfortable silence. It's foreign and strange, and his mind reels to all of your other reunions - the ones sparked by a hug, a bright smile, by laughter. He's desperate to feel that, to feel you again.

"How were the wilds?" He questions, and he cringes at the attempt for unfamiliar small talk.

A beat, and you answer. "Good," you say. Another silence. "How...how were things here?"

Howl's mind flashes to the days marred by your absence - his loneliness and dramatics, Markl's complaints, his mistakes, how quickly he seemed to fall back into his old ways again. "Fine," he responds.

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, and he looks up. "Sounded more than fine," you say, "from what Calcifer told me. Seems you've been keeping yourself quite busy."

For a moment he's scared, scared that you know and that you're disappointed in him. And he's embarrassed, because those nights meant absolutely nothing to him, and they never would unless they were spent with you. But then he burns - his pride and irritation and sense of betrayal at your leaving him rearing their heads. Here you are after all this time, after having abandoned him to chase after your own enjoyment. After you changed him and made him care entirely too much, and left.

Even in the moment he knows he's being silly - you'd only been gone about two months after all, and you had every right to do what you wanted, but he doesn't care. Because he's hurt and embarrassed and he feels so disgustingly like the person he'd been in his past, so he fights.

"And what about you?" he growls. "You were gone for months, gallivanting your way across Ingary while we stayed here. You left, and you expected me to wait sadly for your return?" He did, but he wouldn't let you know that.

Your eyes flash with annoyance, with that defiance he'd grown fond of. "Oh, of course not. The infamous Howl Pendragon waits for no one, isn't that right?"

He opens his mouth to retaliate, to argue or defend he isn't sure, and at that moment Markl reappears. And so he walks away from you, taking the eggs from Markl's hands and beginning breakfast. From his hearth, Calcifer sends him a glare. Idiot, it says. Howl knows.

///

You've been falling back into your normal routine, and it's nice.

It's nice to have your little family back, with Markl's adorable eagerness and unfailable excitement at seeing you each morning, with Calcifer's dry humor and sly remarks. Sure, some things are still out of place - one being the uncomfortable distance and silence between you and your favorite person, but other than that things are perfect.

Just kidding.

Sure, you're incredibly happy to be home - no matter how beautiful and exciting the wilds of Ingary were, nothing can replace the coziness and familiarity of the castle. But home didn't really feel like home if he wasn't in it.

Even after weeks, you and Howl have barely spoken. You don't truly know why, but it seems as if the two of you are simply too stubborn to break the silence. You know it's driving Markl and Calcifer crazy, it's driving you crazy, too, but you don't know how to speak with him. You've had a bitter taste on your tongue ever since Calcifer informed you of Howl's escapades, and you can't seem to look at him without imagining his face pressed up against some other girl's, without remembering the bruises on his neck.

You suppose you don't really have a right to feel this way - you two weren't together, after all. But all this time you've spent loving him - first as a friend and then as something more - and it stings to know that he could replace you so easily. In all those nights you'd spent away - drifting off with visions of your family and memories of home - his arms around your waist, his brilliant smile, the evenings that faded away to the sound of your voice reading to him as he lay in your lap - he'd been with someone else. Forgetting you.

When he approaches you, it's late. The sun has long-since set over the horizon, the moon hanging in the sky and blanketing the Earth in quilts of ivory and blue. You sit on the couch downstairs, a few feet from Calcifer's fire, and blanket wrapped around your shoulders and mind a million miles away. Everyone else has retired to bed, you think, welcomed by the familiar embrace of sleep and the warmness of dreams. Your face is furrowed in thought, and you're so consumed in yourself that you don't hear the creaking of the stairs, nor the soft patter of footsteps, until he is right beside you.

You glance up, and his eyes are already on you. He seems hesitant, unsure, and you feel tempted to look away. But you can't look away, you never can. So you offer him a smile - just the slightest upturn of your lips, and that seems to be enough. Howl breathes, and sits down next to you.

His blonde hair is loose, falling in curtains around his face - lit by the amber glow of the fire. He's traded his lavish outfits for a simple shirt and trousers, let loose in the company of his home. His eyes flit to yours and he rolls his lip between his teeth, gaze narrowed and searching. He opens his mouth, testing the air on his tongue and trying to speak - his words swallowed up in the night. So you breathe them for him, hoping to halt the awkward silence.

"You're up late," you say. "Couldn't sleep?"

He shakes his head, something akin to a chuckle leaving his lips. "No. Couldn't sleep."

You hum, and nod, pulling the blanket up around your shoulders and wishing you could hide away in its embrace.

"I...I was thinking," he says.

You look over. "Thinking? Seems dangerous."

He scoffs, a small smile pulling at his tired lips. He brushes off your jab, turning to face you and staring at his hands - his fingers dancing in his lap. "I...I know-" Howl sucks in a breath, as if bracing himself for a battle. "I'm sorry about what I said. And I'm sorry I haven't- haven't spoken to you. Trust me, I wanted to. I just..."

He trails off, and you implore him. "Just?"

He sighs again, running a hand through the sunshine of his hair and pulling at the strands. "I missed you," he says.

Your brows furrow, and you send him a flat look. "You ignored me because you missed me?"

"No! I-" Howl groans. "Why are you making this so difficult?"

"Me? How am I making it difficult? You just said-"

"Alright!" He holds up a hand to silence you, and you glare dully. He glances at you and the ends of his lips quirk up, and he shakes his head with a chuckle.

"I missed you," he says. "When you were gone. I was upset that you left and I...I found a way to blame you. In my mind, at least."

He leans back against the couch, the curves of his face illuminated in the light of magnolian tendrils. His eyes are distant and thoughtful, and he pulls his lip between his teeth. His fingers fall to his opposite hand, twisting the ring that rests upon his knuckle. At further inspection, you recognize it as the one you gifted him. Sapphire - it had reminded you of his eyes.

"I guess I didn't realize how much it would affect me: you leaving. I'd grown used to seeing you, to having you around. It's like they all say, isn't it? I didn't realize what I had until it was gone."

You shake your head, eyes trained on the shadow of his profile. "But I didn't leave, Howl. I was only gone a couple of months, I never planned to leave for good. Is that what you thought? That I wasn't coming back?"

"No, I suppose I knew you were coming back. But I couldn't...in the moment I couldn't think of that. You were just gone. I guess that's why I did what I did - spending nights in town and all that." You wince, that uncomfortable burn rising in your throat. "I didn't like it, I just...I just wanted to make for it. For you not being here. But I hated every minute of it, hated myself, and when you came back I - I didn't want to feel it again. Not after what I'd been doing while you were gone."

"Feel what, Howl?"

He turns to you, then, gaze piercing and sure. In his gaze is a certain steadiness, a certainty and softness. "What I felt the day I met you, the day you came home with me, and everyday since. I knew I didn't deserve it."

The backdrop of the castle seems to fade into haze. "What do you mean?"

He laughs, and it's warm. "You really need me to spell it out?"

"Spell what out-"

Howl grasps the back of your head, lifting a thumb to your chin. He tilts you to face him, and you can feel his breath against your lips. His eyes are deep and crinkled at the edges, and there's that familiar spark of joy that he always seems to carry when he's around you. He leans forward and his nose brushes against yours, and you swear your face is on fire.

"Would you like me to show you?"

After a fleeting moment you nod, and your world comes crumbling after that.

Howl presses his lips to yours, and it reminds you of all good things. Of coming home after time away, of bright meadows, of firelight. He winds an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, and the hand that is cupping your cheek moves to smooth away your hair. Your fingers grasp his shirt and dance across his skin, caressing his cheeks and tracing his jaw. You pull away when the need for air become too great, and he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. You breathe, and he smiles, leaning forward once again to plant kisses across your face, and he whispers: "I love you, I love you, I love you."

#howls moving castle #howl x reader #howl pendragon x reader #howl jenkins x reader #howl jenkins pendragon x reader #ghibli #howl jenkins #howl jenkins pendragon #howl pendragon #sophie hatter

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spideyspeaches · 4 years ago

Text

Heart made of glass ↬ t.h

A/N: Beta read by the lovely @hollandcrush !! <3<3

Request (Summary): can you please write one about Tom, who is on the filming process of cherry and has some emotional problems because he feels that his character is already part of his life, so he comes home very angry and in a bad mood, so he just snaps and creates a big fight with the reader and just says things that he obviously didn't meant, you know very angst, and at the end just very fluff.

Hope you like this anon! Lemme know your thoughts heh <3<3

Warnings: breakdowns, slight vomiting but it’s not graphic. I’m not in any way romanticizing or sexualising breakdowns.

WC: 2k+

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Tom was an ambitious guy. He took his roles seriously, no matter what his character was and who he played. It was an admirable trait, the way he both enjoyed his work and worked hard to earn a high place in such a place as Hollywood.

You always took pride in how amazing and accomplished your boyfriend was, your heart swelling whenever you heard his name being mentioned in events and interviews. You enjoyed how he tried to diversify the movies he worked in.

("I've been playing the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man for so long, it's about time I play someone different now." He once said in a Jimmy Kimmel interview. You were watching from the audience, smiling as the audience roared in affirmation.

"Well looks like you took quite a big leap from playing a superhero." Jimmy said, smiling at the audience with his paparazzi smile.

You knew the question was scripted, quite harmless, but you still noticed how his shoulder stiffened, his smile not wavering once.

"Well yeah, I used to be a superhero and now I'm a heroin addict." He joked, winking at the audience as he ran a hand through his nearly hairless head.

He cried himself to sleep that night, burying his face in your chest as you shushed him. )

It always worked in his favour, with the incredible support his family and fan base provided. And he was always so humble about it.

Filming Cherry, however, was way different than he thought it would. With filming Cherry came consequences that he didn't necessarily like. He knew what he was bringing on himself and his family when he was first introduced with the script.

(Contrary to popular belief, he didn't actually give out spoilers, it was just small promotional stunts that kind of took over as his reputation to spoil minor details.)

The process was intense, getting into the mindset of "Cherry" was taxing, and people were beginning to notice it in him. He was more restless, tugging at his non existent curls when he thought no one would notice.

He was more clingy, more appreciative of your body and you, letting you know that there was no sexual intent behind his acts of caressing your waist at random times. You didn't notice the change in his behaviour.

He had always been like this, watching you with the most gratifying gaze a man could muster, his pretty brown eyes like globes of whiskey, staring at you with a muffled expression. You didn't notice.

There had always been a cutting edge to his voice, you knew and adored it. Behind the British actor who played Spider-Man, he was your Tom. Your Tom who gave you forehead kisses and baked cakes with you and made silly playlists that reminded him of you and you of him, your Tom who worshiped the ground you walked on, your Tom, your Tom and your Tom.

(Sometimes you envied that he was an actor, so good at hiding any emotions he felt, it came easy to him, just another fake emotion like he was a face behind the camera.)

He was never aggressive towards you. Never. Even on tough days, he was soft, caring and understanding to the point where it made you mad, immediately making you feel guilty. He worked so hard and yet here you were, blaming him for being nice, never standing up for himself.

"Uh, Tom, Tom stop, wait." You grunted, pushing his shoulders as he scrambled away from you at your discontent.

You held his face, his breath hitching, hyperventilating as he tried to get himself together.

Ever since he had started filming Cherry, he had been away from you. And now that you were finally here, he had been all over you, making love to every inch of your skin, like it was a holy grail he had to find, caressing your warm skin under his fingers making you shiver as his nimble fingers wandered. It was the intimacy, sexual and quasi-sexual, that made you realise, that there was something wrong.

Sex- it had been a constant in your life other than Tom. But of course, you didn't live on it. It was but a fuel that strengthened your relationship, it was about discovery and showing your vulnerable sides. It was a reminder of the coffee dates and baseball matches. It was loving, gentle and raw, like a gentle breeze caressing your face.

But this, this was different. And you noticed. This, what you had been doing, it was fucking. It was aggressive and needy and it felt good, but at the same time, it felt different.

"Baby?" You asked softly, trying to meet his eyes in the dark lit trailer. It was late, way past filming times, the only time you got to see his vulnerable side.

You should have been in his hotel room, but you were in his trailer instead. All alone in the all encompassing darkness, it made your heart stutter beats.

"Baby speak to me. What's happening, who's doing this to you?" You ask once again, holding onto him firmly this time, his squirming frame making you loosen your hold. You didn't care that you were naked, he had already seen it all.

Fiddling with the rough sheets, he huffed a heavy breath. And that was all it took for the dam to break.

"Tell me how do you feel baby, you're starting to scare me." You urged. All you got in response was his muffled sobs. Pulling him forward, you let his head rest on your bare chest, rivulets of tears sliding down your warm skin, almost burning you like acid, his tiny hair tickling you, a very contrasting feeling.

"I can't do it. I can't take it anymore." He sniffed, wrapping his strong arms around you, shivering at the contact. It was a cold night in Cleveland, and you were naked and he was crying. You were berating yourself for not noticing.

"What can't you take anymore?" You hold him, tracing circles on his buzz cut hair, just the way you did when he had his curls.

"I feel like I'm becoming him. I don't like it at all, I try and try but I can't." He sobs, shoulders hitching with each sob. You felt your heart break, the sounds of his cries sending daggers into your skin.

How could you have not noticed? The lively sunshine of a man was almost an empty shell. The interviews with former drug addicts had been excruciating for you, pity, disgust, sympathy and every other sinful emotion swirling in your mind.

You couldn't believe that you hadn't thought about Tom, of what an effect it would have on him.

"Bub, listen to me, carefully," you said, shushing him as he continued to look at you, teary eyed and red nosed, snot dripping out of his nose,"you listen to me. You're strong and resilient and nothing like him okay? He's not you. You're Tom Holland. You're brilliant and brave and amazing okay?"

"But I don't feel that way!" He said, his aggressive stance surprising you, "he's- he's…"

"He's what?" You asked, a little too impatient. Muttering a sorry, you rub your palm on his cheek, kissing the soft, moist skin.

"I don't feel so good." He croaked, getting up suddenly, making a run for the washroom. You rushed after him, watching him as he heaved into the toilet. Rubbing his back, you muttered affirmations, curling besides him as he sat on the ground, his back to the cold wall.

You got up to switch on the lights, feeling his hands tugging yours, a soft "stay" coming out of him.

"Better?" You asked, feeling him now against your collarbone.

"I shouldn't be this affected, this- this isn't fair. I'm overreacting, I'm sorry I worried you baby I swear I didn't mean to-"

"Shh, Tom first of all, you're not overreacting okay?" You smiled, kissing his nose, moving towards his brows and his forehead, "It's perfectly reasonable. The role you're playing...It's not exactly picking daisies. Fuck you're playing a heroin addict Tommy, a broken soldier with PTSD, a breakdown was inevitable. It only shows that you're human."

"Really?" He smiled, it looked more like a grimace, a plea for reassurance.

"Yes, really." You said, booping his nose, eliciting a giggle from him,"now, you better go to bed mister, you have an early shoot don't you?" You playfully scolded, kissing his lips, laughing as he carried you bridal style.

"Tomorrow will be better." You whispered, kissing his eyelids, already closed, chest moving rhythmically as you counted his pulse, making sure he was completely asleep before slipping on your clothes, covering him with the thin quilt.

***

"Is everything okay on set?" You asked casually, watching the crewmates work tirelessly in the daylight.

You were standing next to Ciara on a prop jeep, fiddling with the water bottle held in your hand.

"Hmm, as okay it can be with two people playing drug addicts." She shrugged, looking at you with a small smile.

"Are you okay?" You asked, turning to give her your full attention, remembering your boyfriend's breakdown yesterday.

"It gets… intense at times. Some scenes are hard to play, but we're okay. Mostly." She answered, taking your water bottle and chugging the water.

"I'm not a therapist, but you can talk to me, you know?" You smiled, holding her shoulder as she gave you a bashful smile.

"It's been tough on Tom. He's more aggressive, nearly had a breakdown during a scene." She said.

"Yeah, that.. that happened yesterday too."

"It was time, a person can only hold so much right?"

"Yeah."

You pondered her words, wondering if you could do anything to curb this.

"I think I need help." He said one day while you were eating dinner. Harry, who was sitting next to you, looked up from his plate, giving you a knowing look before clearing his throat.

"I'm gonna get some water." He said, waving awkwardly at you and getting up. You took that as a cue to scoot closer to Tom, running your hands through his camel hair.

"That's very brave of you hun, asking for help." You smiled, kissing his cheek softly. You felt him smile, sliding closer to you, holding you by your waist.

"I learnt from the best." He muttered in your hair, kissing your forehead.

You felt his love that day, felt the way he ran his smooth fingers on your waistline, sliding across your thighs with care and softness you hadn't felt in a while. He was healing. It was a process, it took time but it happened.

***

You were walking across the library, his hand in yours, your hearts beating in silence.

"How was your appointment?" You asked, shivering in the cold air. You rubbed your palms together, bringing your jacket closer to your chest, huffing the cold air.

"It was good, much different from what the media portrays. She even showed me this meme she thinks you would like, look." He said, bringing out his phone to show you the saved meme.

You laughed at his eagerness, kissing his lips as a final gratification.

"Well it looks like you're having a great time. You have another scene left to do today in the evening so we better scram." You reminded him.

You always did that, remind him of his schedule, reminded him to take a breath when he felt like he was drowning. You reminded him of home and what he had to look forward to.

"Why can't we have a lazy day today?" He whined, kissing your neck, making you giggle as it tickled.

"You know you can't do that hun, you already took three days off." You snickered, poking his sides.

"Well that sucks. I just want to spend my day with my girl, is that too much to ask?" He smiled, kissing your forehead, one hand holding yours, swinging back and forth, the other holding a large cup of coffee in a tight grip.

You reached to loosen his fingers, taking a sip, slurping loudly, making him laugh. You decided you liked this laugh much better, it was breathy and free, a melody to your ears.

You noticed how he was more relaxed and back to being that ray of sunshine. Back to being your Tom.

Thanks for reading! also as a side note- here’s a similar fic @itsallyscorner !!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #spideygirl writes

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buckleyx · 4 years ago

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sad angst with bucky x reader? like a right person wrong time situation. they fell in love in the 40s and she didn’t make it so bucky visits her grave every year. sorry if this is sad lol been watching sad kdramas.

ANGEL B.B

Author’s note: Thank you so much for requesting anon !! I loved this idea but also needed a hug after writing this because ouch

Warnings: angstttttttttttt, character dead and sad bucky

masterlist

Bucky always saw you as his angel. You where there for him when he needed you the most and were besides Steve the only person who could make him genuinely smile in his darkest hours. You met at a tiny movie theatre in Brooklyn, one that you happend to visit with some friends the same day he was there with Steve. He often thinks about the first time he saw you, how stunning you looked as you smiled and laughed at his silly jokes that he used to impress you. It didn't take long before you two moved in together. He knew you were the one. You were his person, it felt like you were both made for each other and if he was honest he couldn't see it any other way.

How on earth did he got so lucky?

The soldier whiped away a tear as he stood over your grave. It was old but he managed to keep it clean and safe. Every year on your birthday he would drop by to clean out the old flowers from his previous visit and replace them with some new fresh ones. He would fix the candles and wipe away some old leafs that had manged to fall onto the ground next to you. The broken super soldier kneeled down as his fingers trailed over the white letters that spelled out your name. "I miss you." He mumbled, feeling his chest rise as he tried his best to hold back a sob. He knew that the new mission he was about to start with Sam could mean he would be out of Brooklyn for at least a year and he couldn't help but feel quilt at the thought of not seeing you for so long. He left you once, And he swore himself that he wouldn't make that mistake again.

"C'mon it's only a few weeks." Bucky said, giving you one of his charming smiles as you fixed his uniform. "The war will be over before you know it." "I know, James." You sighed, resting your hands on his torso as you bit down your lip to stop the tremble in your voice. "Just....just be careful okay?" "I promise." Bucky assured you, giving you a half smile to hide his own anxiety. You noticed the smile not reaching his eyes and pulled him in for another hug which he gladly accepted. "I love you okay, so don't do anything stupid while I'm gone and promise to write." "I promise." You smiled, pecking his lips. The soldier whispered his final goodbyes and gave you a meaningful kiss before he had disappeared into the crowd, ready to jump on board on the large train that was waiting for him. You whiped away your tears as you waved goodbye, catching a last glimpse of your boyfriend as he hung out of a tiny window, shouting how much he loves you and promising that he will make you his fiance onces - he returns. You had to run next to the train to catch his last words but smiled brightly ones you received them.

"I love you." Bucky whimpered, placing the last rose on your grave. "I love you too."

My request are open :)

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago

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Deadbeat Pt. 4

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), fluff, angst, smut, cursing, abandonment, toxic parent, violence, toxic siblings, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official

Lee Bodecker x Reader

Arvin Russell x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! This chapter covers a little bit about her relationship with Arvin and some other things as well. I hope you all enjoy!

I also am having some writer’s block with my Obi-Wan Kenobi miniseries I was working on, so expect Part 3 sometime Sunday hopefully! So sorry for the delay on the final chapter.

Tags and Requests are OPEN

You had lost your virginity in the back of Arvin Russell’s pick-up truck. Your mom and you had gotten into a fight again- you don’t even remember what about. You remember she pushed past you to go outside, while you grabbed the phone dialing Arvin’s number. You didn’t even need to say anything. He just knew. He groggily mumbled out that he’d be there soon. And like the sweetheart he was, he was there in the middle of the night to come pick you up.

Your mom didn’t even look at you as you came out of the house, your coat secured over your pajamas. She just stared out at the dark night and would light herself a cigarette, taking a long drag. He pulled up to your house in his truck and you’d hop in the passenger door. You sat flush with his side, while you cried silently. He drove with one hand on the wheel and the other wrapped tightly around you, occasionally taking his eyes off the road to kiss your temple affectionately.

There was a spot out by the lake. A small clearing you could get to by driving on an unmarked road through some woods. He would bring you there when you had to get out of your house. Sometimes, he’d just hold you or he brought a large quilt with him and you’d both crawl into the pick-up and lay together watching the stars as he held you close.

Despite everything that happened, that boy has always been good to you. He was the kind of boy who you could wake up in the middle of the night and he’d show up in his pajamas to come get you no questions asked. You both looked a little silly. Him wearing his work coat and boots with his pajama bottoms and sleep shirt, and you wearing your coat over a nightgown you paired with whatever shoes you had by the door.

He’d park the truck and pull you into his arms, holding you close and whispering to you that everything was going to be okay. He’d stroke your hair and press small kisses to your cheeks, not caring that they were salty with tears. You never doubted how much that boy loved you.

He untangled himself from you for a moment so he could grab the blanket off the top of the backrest. He got out of the truck and you followed his lead, he always held out his hand to escort you down. You stood with your arms crossed over your chest and looked at the ground while he spread out the blanket in the pick-up.

You’d both climb in and kick off your shoes, and he’d pull you into his chest, so you could rest your head on him instead of the floor of the truck’s bed- which was still hard despite the blanket. You’d rest your hand on his torso, aimlessly drawing shapes over his t-shirt while he looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.

Sometimes, he would try to think and come up with stories to make you laugh. Sometimes, you’d both just talk about your future, wanting to get out of this town. He’d make promises of taking you away from all your troubles and at the time, you truly believed he was your future. Other times, much like this time, you’d cuddle up together and enjoy the quietness, just enjoying the contact of being so close. He’d never press you to talk about your problems, but he was always there to just listen or if you wanted help he’d be there for that too.

In-between the whispers of promises and comforting words, you’d both share kisses until before you knew it, you were on top of him, straddling his waist and his hands gently gripped your waist. His touches were always respectful, and he’d always wait for an okay before touching you anywhere. At the time, it was what you wanted.

“I love you so much,” he’d whisper when you broke the kiss to catch your breath. He pressed his forehead to yours and made circles on your sides with his hands. You’d giggle at how his words made you feel, butterflies in your stomach and goosebumps rising on your skin. He’d smile at the sound of your laugh, knowing he was making you feel better.

“I love you too,” you whisper. He leans up and connects his lips to yours again. They’re so soft and his body is warm. He sits up so his back is up against the back windshield and you’re sitting in his lap. One arm holds you close to him, his thumb delicately rubbing the exposed skin of your thigh, your nightgown gathering at your waist in this new position and the other hand holds your face as he kisses you deeply. His touch makes a soft moan escape your lips and it encourages him to grip your skin a little bit tighter.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighs, running a hand through your hair, before ducking down to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. The action makes your hips instinctively grind against him and you feel his hot breath on your neck as he groans at the feeling. His arms hold your back and guide you so you’re laying back down on the blanket again, this time his body above yours. He holds himself up with one hand and moves his jacket over with the other for a pillow for you to use. He leans down and presses his lips to yours again. Your hands find themselves under his shirt, sliding up his torso, and you smile against his lips when he shivers at your touch.

“Please touch me,” you beg softly in his ear and almost immediately his body freezes above you for a moment. You bite your lip and nod, noticing his hesitation. “I want this,” you confirm, leaning up and kissing him again.

His hands push up the fabric of the nightgown and then slowly pull your panties off. He was moving like if he went too fast, you’d break. Your hands go to the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it off of him, and then you kiss him again with much more urgency, guiding his hand to in-between your legs. You moan at the feeling of his hand finding your clit and rubbing it in a gentle circular motion. Everything was just so slow and purposeful, and all very loving. He kissed your neck, biting and leaving small lovebites on your skin as he picks up his pace, sliding two fingers into you.

His fingers curl and move perfectly, he knows your body so well and he’s already memorized what makes you react to his touch. He kisses you again, sliding his tongue into your mouth, suppressing the moans that fall from your lips at his touch. He can have you falling apart just with his hands.

“Arvin, I need you,” you plead, feeling yourself getting very close. “Please.”

He pulls his hands away to pull off your nightgown, and he stares when your nipples harden in the night air. You were the more beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He also pulls off his own pajamas and his boxer shorts, tossing them somewhere behind him. His lips attach to yours again, one hand running down your side and the other cupping your breast, massaging gently. “Are you sure, baby?” he asks in a whisper against your ear. You can feel his length teasing your folds and it was driving you crazy.

“I’m sure,” you moan softly, running a hand through his hair. He’s very careful, sliding into you for the first time. It was his first time too, and he was worried about hurting you. You wince at the feeling and he pampers you with kisses until you’re ready for him to move.

“You’re perfect,” he mumbles against your skin, and your legs wrap themselves around him. The pain you felt shortly after turned into an immense feeling of pleasure and you moved your hips, silently begging him to move. He chuckles softly, and begins to move his hips. He’s so focused on looking at you, looking at your reactions, making sure you’re okay.

“You feel so good,” you praise, your nails gently marking his back. You did really, honest to God, love Arvin Russell.

“(Y/N) I love you so much,” his gaze looking down at you like you’re the only other creature in the world. Both of you were so dumbstruck by love, and the harsh realities of the world hadn’t torn you from him yet.

Even after you finish, he wraps you up in his arms, making the moment all about you. He was so attentive and caring. You worry that you took him for granted when you think back. No place made you feel safer than his embrace. He was the most selfless person you’d ever met and he would do anything you wanted. He made you the center of his life, and you were so thankful to have had him, even if the world got in the way.

But you didn’t know if Arvin was the boy you had thought you wanted. When you got a call to come pick-up Tommy, you never imagined that Arvin had it in him to inflict so much on someone. The boy who never once scared you, secretly held the ability to beat someone so severely. You were livid with your brother. You were absolutely furious- but this wasn’t something that surprised you about him. Arvin surprised you. He had this anger bottled down deep inside him, and you were scared of it. You were angry and confused.

You were mad he didn’t talk to you. He just went off and did it. It was shocking. He almost killed him. The beating was graphic, Tommy still not even telling you everything. You couldn’t bear to hear it. You could rationalize Arvin’s actions if it wasn’t your brother. It was someone so close to you, and it made you look at him differently. You were also so upset that he kept it from you. You wished he told you about Lenora, and about Tommy and his friends hurting her. But he didn’t. He kept it from you, and he handled the situation in the worst way possible.

For a while, all you would see when you looked at him was the cruelty he inflicted on your brother, even if you agreed the creep deserved it. But that was family, and you had a more delusional view of your family back then. You held a loyalty to them that they didn’t return to you, clearly. Not a day went by when you wished it could’ve turned out differently.

When he showed up at your doorstep, begging for forgiveness, his eyes full of regret, you couldn’t picture anything else than how he must have looked when he attacked Tommy. You can only see how horrible Tommy looked when you had to pick him up off of the ground and carry him to your mother’s car. You knew Tommy deserved it, but he was your brother. You can’t blame Arvin for his actions, and you see that now. But when he was sitting on your front porch steps for hours every day hoping you’d come out and talk to him, all you saw in your mind was the version of him that was sadistic enough to inflict that much pain on somebody.

You wonder if this is why you find yourself drawn to the Sheriff. You knew he had skeletons in his closet, but he was much more up front about his own demons than Arvin. With the Sheriff, his own personal devils were worn on his sleeve, even though he thinks the badge hides it well. With Lee Bodecker, what you see is what you get. Even if he had the secrets the town claimed he had, he was no good. His issues weren’t as nicely tucked away as Arvin’s. With the Sheriff, like yourself, your issues were right there on the surface. You could look at Lee and see the pains of his life. He was not nearly as good at hiding his wrongdoings as he thinks. With Arvin, he was good at pushing it back and hiding it away- and you saw now what happens when he choses to let go.

Arvin would linger in your mind occasionally- thinking about all that could have been with him. But your image of him is tainted, and you don’t know if you could love him again like you had when you were blissfully unaware of this side of him.

You aren’t even sure if this is the reason, you’re finding yourself so drawn to Lee. You had a hard time seeing where these lines were being drawn. Your train of thought hasn’t been rational, you don’t think you ever have been in your life. There’s just something about him that has pulled you in that you couldn’t explain. It was getting harder and harder for you to deny the feelings, as confusing as they were.

“Hi, sugar,” the blonde woman says when you open your front door. She’s wearing the nicest clothes, with white sunglasses, and an animal print coat. If she wasn’t in this town, you thought she’d be a Hollywood star or something. “Ain’t you a doll?” she chuckles, looking you over. “My big brother around?” she asks, looking over your shoulder to obviously peer into your house. The action makes you close the door slightly.

“Who are you looking for?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. You look behind her, a man standing on the steps with a camera around his neck accompanied her. The pair of them were a sight, and the two made your skin crawl.

“Lee!” she exclaims, “Lee Bodecker. Don’t he live here? I’m his sister, Sandy. This here is my husband, Carl.”

“One second,” you say quietly, closing the door and locking it, leaving them on the porch. You had an uneasy feeling about the pair of them, that you couldn’t explain.

You run up to his room and knock on the door. “Lee,” you call, obvious distress in your voice.

“What is it?” he asks, door flying open immediately, concern evident on his face.

“Some woman is here asking for you,” you inform him. “Said she’s your sister. Her and her husband are outside on the porch?”

He lets out a sigh, obviously annoyed that the pair would show up. He tells you he’ll take care of it and follows you back downstairs. He heads over to open the door and the two of them step into your house without waiting for the invitation to come in. You see that Lee’s jaw clenches at their actions. He’s upset they’re here. He’s upset they know about you. He doesn’t know what they want yet, and he doesn’t want to find out with you sitting in the room.

“Can you let the adults have some time to talk sweetheart?” Carl says looking over at you, asking you to get lost in your own house. It’s infuriating. Your fist clenches and you see Lee out of the corner of your eye react the same. Sandy shoots you a sympathetic look and Lee silently apologizes, and nods, his way of asking the same. You hold back from fighting with the stranger when you see Lee’s plea. You nod and head upstairs.

“She’s as pretty as a picture,” you overhear Sandy say as you head upstairs. “She your new sweetheart Lee?’

“What do you want Sandy?” you hear Lee ask with a heavy sigh. Out of respect for Lee, and just assuming it was personal family issues, you head to your room- missing the rest of the conversation. You think about how much you can’t wait for those two to get out of your house. You knew it was wrong of you to judge, but Christ that pair just made your skin crawl for a reason you couldn’t explain.

Sandy and Carl had no problem showing up at Lee’s doorstop asking for money. Of course, that reporter Henry Curtis showed up at their door asking for information about Lee, and Sandy didn’t tell him anything. However, she saw this as an opportunity to get something for herself. She thought by not letting the reporter in and sharing information about her brother she deserved a reward. Sandy knew was in the pocket of a lot of people and she thought by threatening to talk to the press she could get something out of Lee. So now, here they are asking for hush money.

“The only reason you’re not behind bars right now is because I chose to look the other way while you’re whoring yourself out,” he points out to her. “I’m letting you walk free and then you have the audacity to ask me for money? What? Because you wouldn’t talk to a reporter? Fuck, Sandy. I thought you were smarter than this.”

“You let me walk free ‘cause it’ll smear your image, Lee,” she points out. “You ain’t doing that out of the kindness of your heart ‘cause you love your baby sister. You won’t win reelection with a sister locked away for prostitution.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he spits angrily. “Don’t test me.”

“If you don’t think I’ll blab all your dirty secrets when shows up again, you’re stupid Lee,” she counters. “I think what I’m asking for is more than fair. Lock me up, I don’t care. I’ll make bail and you’ll never hold public office again.”

He feels pinned. All he can think about is getting these two of his sight and out of your house. In the moment, he cares more about that than the money. Fuck it, he thinks. Having this fight with her while you’re upstairs is not worth it. He gets up from the chair, and heads over to his jacket. He pulls a couple hundred dollars of the envelope in his inside pocket from his most recent visit from Brown. “This is for keeping your mouth shut, and for never coming back to this house- call me at the station instead if you need to see me,” he says, handing his sister the small stack of twenties. She nods, kissing his cheek, before they both leave the house as quickly as they entered.

He’s livid. Adrenaline is pumping and he can’t even think straight. He walks over to the window and looks through the curtain, watching the pair drive away. Sandy is driving while Carl looks to be adjusting the radio. He could punch the wall; he can’t even describe the feeling that overcomes him. He’s just overwhelmed, his mind is hazy. He feels like he has no control of his life and he just wants to drive off and never come back to this fucking town. He’s so mad at his sister for showing up here, and even more mad that she brought that fucking husband of hers. He’s pissed thinking about how Carl spoke to you and he’s angry at himself for not coming to your defense. This is who he is. He’s everyone’s lacky. Just letting everyone use him for their own selfish gain. He was complacent when faced with adversary, he always had been. He hates how he’s let himself fall this far down. He’s nothing more than a pushover.

You assume the pair left when you hear Lee close the door to his room, loudly. It surprises you and makes you jump. You decide to head over to his room and see if everything is okay. You get up from your bed and put your book on your nightstand, heading over to his room. You’re concerned and you know there probably nothing you can do to help. But he was so helpful and attentive when that reporter had you so upset. You needed to offer to return the favor at least. You only knock once before his door flies open, and he’s looking down at you. Anything you were planning on saying is lost and the look he’s giving you makes your mind go completely blank.

You don’t know who made the first move. It was like you both went in for the kiss frantically at the exact same time. The kiss was hungry and feverish. Both of your just pulling each other as close as physically possible. His hands run up your back and tangle in your hair, tugging gently, making you moan. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck and he uses his foot to kick the door closed.

“Fuck, doll,” he groans when he pulls back for air. Both of you are panting, and neither one of you know what you say. You both just look at each other wide eyed, your eyes scanning his wondering where the hell that came from. You don’t give yourself much time to think about it, pulling him in for another kiss by the tie of his uniform.

Part Five

Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3

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redheadspark · 3 years ago

Text

Embedded🌌

Light My Love Chapter 14

Summary: I saw Druig for all that he was. HIs tough exterior was only a shield for him to use and not be vulnerable, and yet he was rarely like that with me. Druig had a lightness in him, in how he teased the others and how he would joke and banter. His moods were all his own, but there was goodness deep within him. I loved all the sides of him and how they all gravitated back to goodness. Even his aloofness and anger never stayed for too long.

But what got me was his soul, that soul that wanted what is best for the humans and hated to see humans fail. He would rather walk away and do what he thought was right than stay and do what he was told. His defiance and direction were always his strength, and that showed his love too.I did love him.

I loved Druig with all of my being.

WC: 4,530

Warnings: Small Angst but MAJOR FLUFF!

A/N: The Emergence is done! I have a few more chapter for this piece before I officially wrap it up in a ribbon! I really do hope ya’ll like it!

Happy reading!

Previous Chapter: Chapter Thirteen

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

*Chapter Fourteen: Embedded*

I woke up to the sound of a wind chime and a cool wind against my cheek.

I was on top of something soft, almost like a cloud as I was slowly blinking. Although it looked like I was laying out on my side, I could see a window over my head and gray clouds. I took in a soft but gentle breath, feeling it is a bit difficult to take in a full breath and have my lungs inflate. Yet then again, I thought I was dead.

Was I dead? Was this heaven?

My brain was trying to catch up with me now as I was finding out where I was. A blanket was over me, it felt like a thick quilted blanket as my head was on top of a soft but full pillow. I then knew I was on a bed, a rather large bed since I felt space around me without the need to move Something was over my nose and mouth, it felt like a barrier of something kind that was pushing oxygen into me. I took in another breath, breathing in pure air and having me grout a bit from the sensation. Trying to move, I felt an intense numbing sensation in my back, not having me move an inch. This was confusing me now, not understanding what was going on It was making me confused, but then I remembered then.

The Emergence. Saving Druig from dying. Being on the beach. Fighting Ikaris.

What happened?

I remember fighting Ikaris. He was trying so hard to kill me there on the beach when I was simply buying Sersi some time to end the Emergence. That feeling that we were so close but Ikaris was trying to stop us. II felt anger and pain towards him, knowing that two of my friends died because of him and I almost lost Druig in the process too. Being so stubborn in his ways and his faith in Arishem was enough for us to see the true side of Ikaris. I saw the rage in his eyes because he would use them as weapons.

His true colors were grim and almost barbaric, and I almost died because of it.

The last thing I remembered happening to me was my back being split open. That pain was seeing through my body, almost like a virus and it was unbearable to just breathe through it. The last thing that was floating in my head since I felt like I was about to die on that beach was the love I had for each one of my family members. It was almost bitter-sweet, thinking that I wasn't going to see them again. But I wasn't too sad about it too, knowing that I did all that I could do and made sure they were all safe. It made have look silly to the others, but I was content in what I did and how I protected them.

But another person floated into my mind. His vision was clear as my eyes were still heavy. Druig.

Oh, Druig.

I knew I was doing something that Druig begged me not to do. He didn't want me to fight Ikaris, he wanted me to be safe and away from the danger. What we experienced together for the first time was very raw and new, and we had to express our feelings to one another right before we were stopping the Emergence. It felt like the odds were stacked against us, and yet Druig was desperate enough to make sure that Ikaris wasn't going to hurt me. Maybe he knew Ikaris was going to be beyond powerful, or that he was just wanting to keep me alive. But I realized that the last time I saw him was when I got him out of the hole, right before I was injured.

Oh God, where was he? Was he okay?

"You're awake,"

I saw someone walk around the bed I was in, sitting in the spare chair was proper right against the bed I was sprawled and was looking down at me with gentle and fragile eyes. I saw who it was, blinking a few times to make sure she was real and this was no dream. Sersi, looking as radiant as ever as she was no longer in her armor. The last time I saw her she was running towards the volcano, her green armor flashing in the sun. But now she was in her civilian clothes, looking rather solemn but happy to see me as I looked up at her.

"What…" I tried to say, but something felt off with my voice. It felt like I haven't spoken in days, and I was still feeling lethargic and heavy. Sersi immediately shook her head, taking my clammy fingers in her own as she was watching me.

"Don't talk right now, okay?" She asked me, keeping her voice level as she gave me one of her sweet smiles that could melt ice. I went quiet again, seeing her sigh and rub the back of my hand with her fingers to almost soothe me, "We thought of the worst with you. I'm just glad you're okay."

I kept quiet, seeing the small look of relief on Sersis' face from just having me awake there in the bed. I had so many questions to ask her, and since she told me not to speak, I decided to resort to signing at her with my other hand that was not being held by her.

Where are we? I signed to her, the first question that was on my mind.

"Ajak's farm," She replied, having me scan the room briefly to see that it was true. The room was cozy, almost intimately cozy with a few things haring on the wall and an old dresser against the wall. Of course, we would be at her farmhouse, it was almost a bitter moment then since I was here before not too long ago. But I never went into her bedroom before, "I figured this would be the best place for you to rest and heal."

Did we stop the Emergence? I asked her, looking back at Sersi to keep the questions going.

"We did," She answered, sounding relieved herself, "Our Uni-Mind worked with all of us connected together. I don't know how I did it but…." She trailed off, having me see her replay it all in her mind. She was almost in a daze, having me squeeze her hand in my mind to show her that I was there. Sersi always had strength behind her, and perhaps she didn't release how much she had. it was just like me, and yet I saw it in her all this time. But I had another person that I wanted to ask her about, and as much as I didn't want to think about him, I had to know.

Where's Ikaris? I signed, seeing her face then fall and then look at our joined hands. It felt like I just trigger something in her seeing her give a shaky breath and then a singular tear falling onto her shirt. I squeezed her hand, seeing her look at me with her glassy eyes.

"He's gone," She replied, having me sigh and see the pain in her eyes. There was heartbreak heard in her voice, in how she sat in the chair, and how she was thinking. I watched her eyes and saw the pain she was in from the thought of Ikaris being gone, and I didn't even want to know what she meant by it. He was no longer in the picture, and perhaps that was enough. Sersi always loved him, she loved on such a deep level that none of us understood, and although they separated from one another some time ago, there was still love there.

I'm sorry, Sersi, I said to her, seeing her shake her head and move to push her tears away with her spare hand.

"He knew what he was doing, and he was remorseful about it. What he's done to Ajak and Gilgamesh, and he almost killed you and Druig back on that beach. We couldn't have forgiven him," Sersi explained to me carefully, having me cringe a bit from hearing that Ikaris harmed me. I wanted to ask her what happened to me, how I need up here in Ajak's bed and my whole body felt like it went through some kind of torture. Sersi saw that hesitance in my eyes then, shifting in her chair.

"He severed your spine," She explained, my eyes going wide from hearing the news. I was giving her an uneasy look as she went on, "Thankfully, he didn't get your spinal cord but just the bones. You also broke a rib, and you got a crack in your cheek. Phastos fixed you up, and thankfully your Eternal healing helped speed the process up, the cheek and rib healed rather quickly. Your spine is taking longer to heal than we thought, but it's healing. Soteri, you're still weak, you've been asleep for the past three days,"

Three days. I was out for three days! It baffled me that I was asleep and healing for that long, but it almost made me realize that I must have been near close to death to have to heal all this time. My mind was still frazzled with trying to remember the certain moments on that beach. I remembered seeing the Emergence beginning to happen around us on the island, then I felt the searing pain along my backside and then the Uni-Mind starting up.

But after that, it was a blur.

"The others were worried about you all this time that we haven't left the farmhouse since we came," Sersi explained some more, rubbing my hand again as I watched her with a sense of heaviness, "Phastos brought his son and husband here for us to meet and stay with us. I know you already know them, but they're so kind. Jack's a sweet boy, he was asking about his Auntie Sophie. That's your alias I take it?"

I nodded my head slowly, my head feeling heavy now that I was having a wave of exhaustion hit me then. I wanted to ask more questions, but my eyes were started to droop and I was slipping into another time of sleep. Sersi saw it on my face, squeezing my hand.

"You rest now. I'll have Phastos come and check your back and we can catch up later, okay? Gather your strength," she instructed me carefully. She was about to get up when I tugged her hand in urgency. I knew I wanted to ask her before I fell asleep, the one person that I was worried beyond reason for. The last thing he did was kiss me and promise me to be safe, but not I didn't know where he was.

"Druig," I said his name, using my voice once more and hearing how broken it was. I felt the need to say his name, wondering where he was and if he was in fact safe. Logically I knew he could take care of himself and keep himself safe. But I was still concerned for him, merely because that he had a new carved out place within myself that was pure and good and filled with love.

I felt myself starting to cry then, a few tears were coming through as Sersi looked at me in concern. Why would I cry about him? Was I crying because I was scared that I had no idea where he was? Or was I crying because I was relieved that we were safe and there was no more threat over our heads? But I had to know if he was okay, that nothing was going to hurt him

"Oh, sweetie, don't worry. He's okay, Soteri," Sersi reassured me calmly, seeing the hint of distress on my face from worrying about Druig, "He's more worried about you. Since we got here he hasn't left your side. He's taking a breather with Makkari right now since he's been in this room with you all this time."

My heart was warming from the thought of Druig being there with me as I was healing. He was there with me this whole time, and although I was so far away within my mind, Druig never was too far away physically. I tried to picture it in my mind, seeing him in that very chair that Sersi was in and watching me like a hawk. But my eyes were drooping then, my breathing starting to even out and my head was sinking into the pillow. Druig was still floating in and out of my thoughts, but Sersi could clearly see me drift away as she squeezed my hand on more time.

"Sleep now, Soteri. You're safe,"

I fell asleep with a sense of safety surrounding me.

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

I woke up again, still feeling a bit heavy and in my body. I was no longer wearing my oxygen mask over my nose and mouth, but my breathing was still light and raspy. My eyes were adjusting to the light, which was now dark and a bit dim. There was a singular light in the room to give a small glow along the walls and furniture. The first thing that I saw was a body that was hunched over in the chair Sersi was sitting at when I was awake before. This person was fast asleep, his head resting on his arms that were crossed on the bed to make a makeshift pillow. There was a blanket hunched over his shoulders, and I saw the slow rise and fall of his shoulders to show he was in a deep sleep. My heart swelled and I beamed.

Druig.

He was sound asleep, facing me on the bed but there was still a good amount of space between the both of us there. I said nothing, not wanting to break the small moment of peace that was floating over the both of us at that moment. Just seeing him there in front of us was enough to put my mind at ease. He was safe, right in front of me and we weren't on the island anymore. There was no Celestial to put to sleep, and there was no Ikaris that was trying to kill us off. But we were on a real farm, the old home of our old beloved leader, and we were together again.

My feelings for him were always embedded in me, long before we reunited and even farther back before we seperated from each other. I didn't know when it precisely happened, or if there was a distant moment that I had with him, but those feelings did come to light and they were in my life. I tried to fight it for so long, maybe thinking that my own sexuality was telling me not to care for him or love him. But one thing that I learned from humans throughout the years, is that love is nothing that is connected to attraction.

Not how I saw it.

I saw Druig for all that he was. His tough exterior was only a shield for him to use to not be vulnerable, and yet he was rarely like that with me. Druig had a lightness in him, how he teased the others and how he would joke and banter. His moods were all his own, but there was goodness deep within him. I loved all the sides of him and how they all gravitated back to goodness. Even his aloofness and anger never stayed for too long. But what got me was his soul, that soul that wanted what is best for the humans and hated to see humans fail. He would rather walk away and do what he thought was right than stay and do what he was told. His defiance and direction were always his strength, and that showed his love too.

I did love him. I loved Druig with all of my being.

Slowly and without disturbing him, I moved one of my hands that were closest to him to touch his arm and caresse the skin with the tips of my fingers. His skin was soft and soothing to the touch, almost a calming balm that I needed to fully know that this was no dream. As sappy as it sounded, I could watch him sleep forever and feel content. He was never one to have real rest, not for as long as I knew him. It was the peace that we all finally needed, that he needed, and I was glad that he was getting it.

Suddenly he shot up, snapping awake within a millisecond and moving away from me. My hand dropped to the top of the bed as he blinked rapidly, sitting up straight and shaking off the sleep that was on his face. I watched him rub his eyes with his fingers, grumbling a bit and having me see his bedhead. It was almost adorable, and my heart was swelling from seeing him right there in front of me. Once he finally lowered his hands from hiding his eyes, I noticed how prestiney blue they were. But they were bloodshot. I then realized something that did break my heart a bit.

He was crying. Did he cry himself to sleep?

"Hey," I said to him, finally finding my voice. He stopped moving, his hands shutting down to look down at me almost in shock. He looked at me, almost not believing himself in what he was seeing. We were quiet, just staring at each other. I felt like I needed to do something, anything, to have him know that he was real.

I finally, put my hands underneath me, pushing myself up to sit on the bed. As soon as I moved, rising slowly on the bed, I felt a small spasm of pain all along my back where I knew I was wounded. I squinted, but still pushed through the prickling stabs along the spine. Druig finally moved, shifting a bit in his chair to grab my arms.

"Soteri," He said my name in worry as I finally got myself to sit fully on the bed. There was a brief moment of me not moving, but I shifted again to face him on the edge of the bed and try to face him head-on. Druig was still holding my arms protectively It took another moment or two of moving, but as soon as I was facing him, I cradled his face within my fingers. I took in a long breath, searching his bloodshot but beautiful blue orbs as I was seeing him look right at me. Relief was there all over his face as I gave him a soft and gentle smile.

"I'm right here, Druig," I whispered to him, seeing him almost melt from hearing me say his name. He was melting again, his shoulder sagging in the relief that I was speaking to him and I was alive. I leaned in, initiating it this time, and I pressed a kiss against his lips that was so soft and gentle. Keeping my hands on his face and feeling the heat in his cheeks, I took in a long breath as we kept our kiss together. His hands moved then, one cradling my neck to touch my long hair within his fingers and the other hand moving to my waist gently and with carefulness. I felt him press another kiss against my lips, almost in urgency as I held it as long as I could.

When we were pulling away, I pressed my head against his own and pushed a kiss onto his skin under his eye, feeling his hand on my waist gently pull him close. We were trying to melt together again, just like before when we were in the Domo or even on the beach. But this time, there was no rush and no need to be urgent.

"I thought you were gone," Druig said in a raspy manner, having me shake my head at him while we were still embracing, "I saw you there on the beach. I saw your body—"

"Druig," I said his name again, pulling away to stare at him intensely in the eyes. He was trying so hard not to cry from thinking back at that moment, that horrid moment when he thought I was dead. But I stared at him, feeling that same fear too. Lying there in the sand and bleeding out on the floor, I thought I was going to lose him too.

"I'm right here, okay?" I asked him carefully, "Don't think like that anymore. I'm here, and I'm with you. I'm not going anywhere else, I promise," It was never a good headspace to be in, thinking that someone you cared for was taken away from you. I never wanted to feel that, and I've seen humans experience it from time to time in wars or tragedies. But to see Druig got through it was enough to break my heart.

Druig nodded his head, wrapping both of his arms around carefully and pulling me close to embrace him. His hands were avoiding my spine, but it was still an intimate hold that he had on me. I wrapped my arms around him too, calming myself down as we held each other in Ajak's old room. Not only was I glad to be alive and Phastos save my life in the end, but I was glad Druig was there with me. There wasn't a threat that wanted to pull us apart from each other anymore.

It was just us.

"I'm so sorry for being reckless," I said to him, thinking back to how I was taking Ikaris on by myself which lead to my one moment of vulnerability. The last thing I wanted to do was make Druig worry, but I did that to him. Druig shook his head as we were still hugging.

"You weren't," He said to me against my neck, having me squeeze him a bit tighter to push some of my emotions into him too to calm him down, "You were strong out there. It was Ikaris that has done this to you, and if he was still alive—"

"Then I would have stopped him again like I did before," I reminded him as tried to steer him away from reliving that anger that I knew he had against Ikaris, "I don't want to think about it anymore. We stopped the Emergence, and we're here in this space,"

"I know," He hummed, calming down a bit before he pulled away and sat back to stare at me. I watched him, seeing him lace our fingers together and keep a close distance with me but enough to give me some space too. I could see it in his eyes and in how he was sitting, he was beyond exhausted and worn down to the bone. Something was telling me he was feeling more exposed too, which was haring me grimace a bit at him.

"Sersi told me you've been in here with me this whole time," I explained to him, seeing the evidence all over him as I looked at him lovingly then, "Why didn't you get any sleep?"

"I did," He said to me, "Just now,"

"I don't consider that sleep," I advised him.

"Well I was more worried about you, wasn't I?" He asked him me, not in a challenging or an annoyed manner, but I could see him resisting with me, "I was more concerned about the love of my life than I was getting some sleep,"

I froze and looked at him. almost feeling the floor drop beneath me. He never said that to me before, I've never heard him say something like that about anyone or anything in all the time we lived in this world together. He was always resaved when it came to his feelings, never letting one in too close. Even with me, way before we kissed, he was never fully vulnerable. There was always a barrier, a wall of sorts, that would protect him from anyone or anything that could bring him to his knees.

"You love me?" I asked him in a breath, my eyes were wide and looking directly at him. I've seen his eyes in so many shades: light from the sun and from joy and laughter. Dark from the night, with pain and anger. Piercing with rage and almost with passion. But the one thing I've never seen in his eyes was deceit. He never once lied to me, and seeing how he was staring at me now, he wasn't lying.

He shifted in his chair, holding my hands in his own and rubbing his thumb along my skin to soothe as he was giving me the most loving look I have ever seen him give me.

"I love you more than anything else in life, Soteri," He confessed to me, his voice sounding soft like veldt and soothing like a river. I have melted then, even died on the spot and I would have been beyond happy and content. My heart was bursting at its seams, my head was spinning and yet I was feeling fireworks all within me and through me. Hearing that someone else loved me, truly loved me, made me finally feel what humans felt. It was the one thing that I always wanted and yearned for, not physical attraction or sexual lust. No, I wanted to love, the kind of love that made humans, in fact, human.

And Druig was giving it to me with no hesitation.

I leaned back in and kissed him boldly, feeling him kiss me back just as slowly but intensely. I lost track of time while we kissed each other, taking our time and savoring each kiss that we were giving each other. I wanted this nice and slow, soft and gentle with him but also wishing to make up for the long-lost time that we could have had if we were bold enough. But now we had time, we had all the time in the world. And as I slide my fingers in his hair and he caressed my skin near my neck, I knew it was love.

"I love you," I said against his lips over and over after each kiss, wanting him to hear it and believe in it. I didn't care if it was sappy or that we looked like teenagers, I was going to tell him until I was blue in the face or until the stars around us were going to burn out in flames. I kissed through every spasm that I was feeling in my back, that pain was nothing in comparison to what I was experiencing there with Druig.

We only kissed that night, having me hear him say me loved me back in return against my lips over and over.

That's when I knew love was real.

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

A/N: I got a few more chapters in this piece, so don’t worry! More to come, I promise! I hope you like it!!

If you wanna keep tabs on this story, I made a tag:

Soteri x Druig

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siriusmydeer · 4 years ago

Note

can you do a young sirius black x reader fic with 7. from the the angst prompt list and number 27 from the fluff prompt list

you’re not too much

sirius black x gender neutral!reader

summary: after your outbreak in the corridor, sirius finds out why you’re upset.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: crying, being over stressed, overwhelmed by sensory, mentions of getting cut, insecurity, self doubt, mentions of blood and bandages, swearing, pet names, crying, hurt/comfort (?)

a/n: okay so combined this with another request and i also kinda formatted the fic differently lmk if we rock w it.

It felt as if your mind was swirling in a boiling pit of incredulous indulgence. The clink of potions classes overlapping each other, the blethering chatter in the Great Hall to the point where it felt as if the words were in a scrabble game with too many letters and not enough sentences to be set in place.

The friction between classmates in an overcrowded corridor as they persistently collider shoulders and paused for conversation before class had begun, the skid of their clinking Mary Jane’s and Oxfords, the fluoresce hues, pigments, shades, were at every turn, every corner, and spilling in your viewpoint; it was all too much.

Sirius was sauntering at a synchronous pace beside you, except your spine had been curved in a slouch whilst your chin had been dipped down attempting to avoid the swirling hues that were on display in your viewpoint.

Sirius had continuously peeped next to him where your body language had displayed your discerned posture and the unceasing swipes of your clammy hands against your thighs. The corridor had been particularly teeming as students were pacing through their classrooms whilst exam season had been well on its way, students clamouring the library as well as vacant corridors and passageways. The overbearing strain taking a toll on your sensorium but, you just happen to be particularly amazing at hiding such tensity.

At the collision of a Ravenclaws manhandle against your own, you had jostled into the Gryffindor male to your right, the satchel that he had been lazily carrying, now, slumped against the ground and his materials now sprawled out on the floor. With tears already glistening in the white pigments of your optics you had shoved your hand over your eyes for a moment at your clumsy behaviours and swiped the remaining tufts away from your eyes before kneeling to the ground to deal with the broken inkpot now swarming where it had spilt.

“You alright, darling?” He asked concerningly, going to grapple at your wrist before you had hurriedly grasped the shards of the inkpot that trailed on the ground. “‘M fine.” You hastily responded, the grip on the shards remaining a bit too tight, causing a small breakage on the dull pads of your fingers as well as a few remaining scarlet scratches on your palpate.

“Oh shit.” You cursed in a worry, he sighed at your flustered behaviours, and he mauled his palm atop of your clutched fist. You discerned the spillage of your tears descending upon the apples of your cheeks. “‘M so, so, sorry Sirius,” you began to blubber out like a child paying no mind to the trickling vermillion hues now descending your fingers, “I Didn’t—” You were shushed by his forefinger gently placed against your lips, huffing out in sympathy once before he spoke faintly with the shake of his head.

“No, I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking—” He was interrupted from his sentence by your belligerent grasp on his finger with the hand that had remained unscathed and your disgruntled mewls in agitation.

“Stop apologizing for other people, you’re not the shitty one!” You abruptly shouted, luckily it hadn’t caused a scene amid your mild tantrum in the desolate corridor. His pupils narrowed and seemed to flee from the expanding whites of his eyes, you took incredulous notice of his face contortion. Yet again, swiping your injured palm across your optics in bewilderment. “Baby,” He murmured, finally taking a gentle grasp on your wrist.

“Are you mad? Y’Know, I can always buy you another—” A third interruption occurred by his forefinger again, “‘M not mad,” He articulated, “And rich, y’dont need to buy me anything.”

“Way to rub it in.” You spoke whilst your words were slightly muffled by his finger pressed upon your lips. Your lips trembled in anticipation, the prominent quiver in your bottom lip was the only thing his pearl optics took notice of. the irises that would bountifully grab the attention of Hogwarts with a simple boisterous shout and a gleaming smile were now displaying dejection and sorrow with a slight glaze at the tension emitting from your body.

“C’mon, let’s go,” He stood up with the Black satchel hanging off of the seizing muscle of his shoulder as well as a calloused palm awaiting for your hand to be placed in it, a silent strategy to beckon you off to his dormitory.

“Where are we going? We have class.” You expressed whilst clutching onto his palm, leaving the stygian ink to blend with the floor as he hauled you down the corridors; his ears had caught onto your audible sniffs.

“To my dorm.”

“But, we have Charms.”

“Don’t care.” He replied negligently, murmuring the words, 'Caput Draconis,’ and sauntering his way up the brittle staircase and through the decrepit doorway. If you walked in a forest at first light, if you let the awakening green hues into your soul, that would be the sense that was his dormitory. There was a calmness, a serenity, a feeling of optimism. The dormitory was just tidy enough to show that he cared about the space along with the tinging aroma of Quidditch equipment and leather.

With your palms ceaselessly clutched, he had gesticulated you over to the carmine quilt that Euphemia Potter had knitted over the winter break and Sirius had now used as a bedspread to remind him in the weeping hours of the night of his newfound home. He had placed you on his bed then rummaging through his drawers, spotting an umber and vermillion Quidditch sweater with the surname ‘Black’ sporting it effortlessly. He tossed the sweatshirt in your direction whilst gesturing you to shrug it over your shoulders and to coddle you into warmth.

“Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” He queried hushedly after closing the curtains of his dormitory and grasping a few bandages and ointment to treat the torn and scratched skin of your finger.

You had waited till he was finished treating your small wounds while you collected your heaving breaths from your corridor outbreak. When he had completed the task and returned the medical materials to the designated places he finally laid upon his bed and placed your ear right above the bone of his sternum. The faint beat of the pulsating muscle lulling you into quietude, sighing heavily whilst griping softly into his chest you spoke in a murmur, “Today was just... Too much. Everything, was just too, too much.”

You paused for a moment to clear your throat before continuing, “O.W.L.S are soon, and there’s still so much to learn.” You vocalized into words for the first time, the spillage of emotions and words scrambled together in your psyche had finally been put into a squalling sentence as you pursued to express your woes to the boy whilst he tangled his fingers to the nape of your neck with the pad of his thumb swiping against your cheek in comforting notions.

“S’gonna be alright poppet, I’m never going to leave you. I promise.” He soothed, pressing a delicate kiss to the crease between your brows, trailing a few more kisses to your hairline as you faintly wept into his shirt. “I just— I feel like no matter what s’gonna be useless.” You sniffled, sweeping your fingers under your eyes in an attempt to rid your face of the cascading tears that descended upon your chin.

“S’not gonna be useless. Now, who won the Medal for Magical Merit?”

“Shove off.” You retorted with a faint grin.

“See? And I’m going to make sure you study, the right way. As well as getting quality pranking time in.” He began to quirk his lips with a giddy chuckle at your vibrating midriff as an indication of your poor attempts at concealing your laughs.

“You’re silly Sirius.” You glanced upwards to view at his optics, seeing the similar gleam they normally carried now restored, at your retort he swiped his finger against the tip of your nose, “So are you.”

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