#all he did was stayed true to himself to a fault | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hhnguyen · 1 year

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little flower

I have become an actual fanatic ever since this movie came out and brought forth all of my old love for the Avatar world. I’ve seen this movie 5 times and Jake Sully as a dad refuses to leave my brain :’)

♢ Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Oldest Daughter!Reader (PLATONIC ya nasties)

♢ Word count: 1.8k

♢ Genre: Family fluff and feels, protective older sister reader

⌲ Description: You are a protective older sister that will always come to the defense of your siblings, even against your dad. And Jake couldn’t even be mad about it.

M A S T E R L I S T

As parents, there was no such thing as having a favorite child.

Humans knew it.

Na’vi knew it.

Jake knew it too.

But that didn’t stop the fact that he did have moments of favoring you over his other children.

How couldn’t he?

You. His first child was born into his new world. His first sign of a fresh, beautiful start. His firstborn. His first little flower.

Eywa must have thought him worthy enough to bless him with a child that was a scarily accurate mix of both him and Neytiri, although there were moments where Jake swore Tommy’s face had shone through. Like how your eyes would shine up at the prospect of learning something new, something hidden. The inner science nerd in you wanting to find out more.

You were also a fighter. One of the more anticipated young warriors of the Omatikaya clan - whispers of the elders following you with praises of being a worthy daughter of Toruk Makto.

And Jaked hated that word. ‘Worthy.’

None of his children had to be worth anything to be considered his own. They were a result of his and Neytiri’s love, and that was all that mattered to them.

Yet being Toruk Makto had put a heavy burden upon his eldest children without him having a say in it. You made sure to take most of the responsibility of being the oldest, yet a lot also fell to Neteyam being the oldest son. Jake tried his damn best to be a fair dad. An equal dad. But when he had been gifted kids such as Lo’ak, Jake was certain it was Eywa’s way to even the odds of calmness and serenity in their growing family.

You and Neteyam had been the dream babies. Calm and demure, who were easy to handle and feed. Kiri had been a little bit fussier when joining the family, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

But Lo’ak?

Damn, he had been the true nightmare for all parents. He came screaming into the world and was now walking through it with the word ‘troublemaker’ ingrained in his DNA.

And Jake wouldn’t change it for the world.

Although you, his oldest baby girl at now sixteen years old, would always have a special place in his heart no matter how many muttered scoldings he had with himself of not having favorites. You were starting to mature a bit too quickly to his liking, shedding away the last layers of your baby fat and awkward limbs, growing into the beginnings of a beautiful, young Na’vi woman.

You reminded him of Neytiri, just a few years younger and more outspoken, mixed with his crude earth humor and language.

Yeah. His mate had not been happy with that development.

Though he had managed to blame Norm and Max the first time you had accidentally let an f-bomb slip at the age of nine.

And then there were times like now, where his anger was boiling over and coiling together with the fearful worry in his gut after seeing his two idiotic sons on the ground of the raid, and not in the sky, where they were supposed to be.

‘Dad, it was my fault. I should have been more alert of their positions.’

They all knew it wasn’t your fault. But that was what you did. Take the blame with your shoulders high, and face unchanging.

‘Y/N, you-’ your name came out in a slightly agitated growl from Jake, but the relentless gaze in your eyes stopped him from taking it further.

“Just go get patched up - you stay,” the last part had been directed at his youngest son, as Lo’ak swallowed nervously. Although Jake could see you hovering behind the others before deciding to ignore his orders and remain only a few feet away.

Fearless, he thought to himself annoyed, just like your mother. That was the difference between you and your younger brother. Where Lo’ak was a troublemaker and reckless out of sheer curiosity and innocent spontaneous decisions, his stubbornness was not intended. Your stubbornness was the opposite, all willful and directed at him with a purpose that tired him out endlessly.

As he finished up scolding and grounding the stupidity incarnate that was his son, Jake didn’t miss as you walked up to him and shared some low whispers enough to make the frown on Lo’ak ease up slightly, tail giving away his better mood as he went on to tend to the ikrans.

You caught up to your dad easily enough, not saying a word and only accompanying him towards the tent of your grandmother despite the simmering anger still apparent in him.

Your younger brothers didn’t fear him, rather their respect for him was so immensely high that it automatically made them want to earn his approval in every single way, including following his orders like perfect soldiers. Or at least Neteyam did. Lo’ak, although holding that same respect was more prone to follow his own spontaneous choices.

There was a difference between you and them.

You respected your father. Of course, you did. But you also refused to become one of his soldiers because you knew better. You were not afraid to speak up against the mighty voice of Toruk Makto when you could see the faults in his choices, an ability that your mother had as well. That included many moments of unfair scoldings towards your brothers.

But he hadn’t always been this way. Your dad was carefree before the sky people came back to Pandora and declared war on your people. He had been affectionate, patient, and funny, even. You had been old enough to understand that by the return of the humans, Jake Sully had been forced to come back into his past military persona, showcasing a side that none of his children had ever been exposed to before - but were forced to adapt to with war right at their feet.

“Dad-”

“I am sick and tired of you taking the blame every time your siblings do something out of their own making!” His outburst was full of anger and frustration, and although his volume wasn’t loud, they were spat with a harshness that would usually send most people cowering away from the Olo'eyktan.

You, however, stood firm in your place. Chin raised and spine straight, waiting for the harsh breaths of your father to subside before putting in your own two cents.

“As the oldest sibling we expect you to be responsible in your choices, and as a good role model that includes knowing who’s at fault and taking the right responsibility.”

His stare was basically penetrating you. The yellow, intense eyes which were smaller than that of true Na’vi’s turned more intimidating when narrowed.

He was waiting, you realized. For you to soak in his words.

“Can I talk now?” You finally spoke, careful yet not meek.

At the incline of his head, you let your own drop slightly before letting out a sigh.

“I am really sorry, dad, ‘Teyam didn’t do anything wrong, he was just trying to stop him. And Lo’ak just wanted to make you proud, even though it was a stupid way of doing it,” you knew the way to soften his heart as his shoulders got less tense by your words. “I know you want them to take responsibility, but as you said; I’m their older sister. Is it that terrible for me to stand for them? If I can’t protect them from the sky demons directly, the least I can do is shield them a bit when they choose to do stupid things.”

Jake’s heart was constricting, memories of a past life flashing before his eyes followed by his feelings of regret and the old grief wanting to claw its way back out.

It was as if Tommy was speaking directly to him. His brother had always been the more caring sibling when they were young. Acting as the older one, despite being twins. Taking the fall for Jake’s younger self's mistakes and being the meditator despite his own harsh words of not needing help being spat in return as a show of gratitude.

The mighty Toruk Makto didn’t know if he was being punished for his past sins, or rewarded by basically getting Tommy’s personality reincarnated in you.

The anger melted away in seconds as Jake found himself simply staring at his oldest baby girl. You had a gift for softening him up in seconds, different from Tuk’s childish innocence and Kiri’s witty comebacks.

“Come here.”

Without hesitation, you stepped into his open arms and sank into his warm embrace as your dad kissed the top of your head affectionately.

“I take it you're not mad anymore?” You mumbled with a slight smile, as you felt him huff.

“Oh, I am still frustrated, flower. But you made a really good case for yourself, so how can I?”

You realized how long it’s been since your dad had actually hugged you like this. All warm, gentle affection. The last year has been hell on earth for your family, snuffing out most of the moments when the family used to cuddle together at night with laughter and sparkling eyes as your parents told stories of their past before Pandora was ruined by the sky people.

As the oldest, you had easily handed over most of the affectionate moments for Tuk to have, being only a child and needing that contact. You had convinced yourself that you were now old enough to not rely on the hugs and kisses of your parents to get through a harsh day.

You had clearly underestimated the hugs of your dad, as you gripped him tighter around the waist and nuzzled your face closer against his chest - not wanting to let go and return to the rest of the family just yet.

Jake noticed this easily. “You okay there, flower?” he murmured softly, not letting go.

“Yeah…” was your muffled reply. “Just…missed this, I guess.” Although honest, the tips of your ears turned slightly red in embarrassment.

“I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve given my oldest baby some cuddles, huh?”

��Daad,” you couldn’t help but whine, glancing up to see his familiar mischievous smirk from when he used to tease you all the time. “I’m way too old for that.”

His narrowed in a mock glare as you let out a startled squeak as his fingers suddenly tickled your sides as you tried to jump away, but he was quicker in holding you back and continuing his attack, prompting peals of laughter to fall from your lips.

The tickle attack didn’t last long fortunately before he was stepping back with a fond smile and looked you over with his larger hands cupping your face and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“I love you, flower.”

“I love you too, dad.”

Jake didn’t have a favorite child.

But sometimes he couldn’t help but cherish you a little more when it was needed.

Can Jake be my dad pls.

#avatar the way of water #avatar #dad jake sully #jake sully imagine #sully family #sully family x reader #jake sully x reader #avatar imagine #jake sully is a good dad I will not hear anything else #sully reader

3K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 year

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could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw

✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !

summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo

( MASTERLIST )

Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth.

He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.

It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.

Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him.

“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.

You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”

Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.

When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.

Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.

Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.

“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”

Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.

You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”

The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness.

“…I’m gonna try.”

He was pretty much a goner after that.

The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.

Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.

And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.

He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.

That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.

The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).

And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.

If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.

But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.

So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.

Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.

Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.

Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.

Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.

Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.

You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”

The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.

He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.

“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”

Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”

“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”

With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.

“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.

He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.

And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.

Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.

Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess.

“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Eds—”

“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”

“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.

“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”

Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”

You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”

He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”

“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”

“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.

It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”

“Eddie!” you scold.

“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”

“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”

“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod

Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.

“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”

“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”

He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”

“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”

With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step.

You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.

Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.

“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”

You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”

“…Really?”

“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.

“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”

A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.

Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.

You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.

“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”

You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.

“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.

“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”

You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side.

You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.

It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.

Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.

You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace.

You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.

Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.

You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”

“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.

“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”

“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell.

You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.

But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.

Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.

You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch.

He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe.

You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.

The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?

Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.

Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you.

Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.

His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.

He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.

As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.

“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”

“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”

You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.

But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.

“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.

It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.

“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”

“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”

Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.

The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.

He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.

You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.

“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.

“…What?”

“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”

You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different.

“Better?” you tease.

Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.

You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.

“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.

Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose.

You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.

You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #st oneshots #eddie spaghetti oneshot

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horrorchicxoxo · 1 year

Text

The Perfect Morning

Jake Sully x Human!Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the adorably short wife of Jake Sully who receives mind-blowing morning sex.

Warnings: Smut

Notes: I had to make an adjustment to the height due to concerns that were expressed to me.

Requested by @jsuli

The sunlight streamed through the windows, painting the bed where you and your husband lay with a soft glow. The warmth that it emanated gradually pulled you out of your sleep. You were cuddled close, your legs wrapped around his midsection. You were very small compared to your 10-foot-tall man, but you made it work. He found your 5’2 1/2-inch height adorable, which only made him fall in love with you even more.

As you opened your eyes, you were met with the stare of your true love. His locs spread were spread wildly on the pillow, giving him an adorably silly look.

You smiled and moved closer to rest your forehead against his own.

"Good morning, handsome," you uttered, nuzzling your nose against his.

"Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?"

"I slept very well. You completely tired me out last night. Where did you learn some of that stuff?"

He smirked, recalling last night's activities.

"I didn't have to learn anything. I just know exactly how to please my woman."

As if on cue, he grabbed your ass and pushed you even closer against him, rubbing his bulge against your core.

You mewled quietly, trying in vain to pry his hands off you.

“Jake, we can’t do this right now. The kids could be up any minute.”

A hint of mischief crossed his eyes.

“Well, I guess you you’ll have to stay quiet then, huh?”

You moaned quietly as he turned he laid you on your back. His lips found yours, passionately sucking on your bottom lip. He then trailed kisses down the side of your jaw and down your neck.

You moaned and grabbed his huge head as he licked and sucked on your breasts. His fangs nipped at your nipples, causing to jump in surprise and lightly hit his shoulder.

“Watch yourself, big boy. I do not need you drawing blood,” you scolded seductively, biting your lip.

“Sorry, babygirl. It’s not my fault that you have such a hot ass body.”

Once he said that, he continued trailing sloppy wet kisses down your body.

It wasn’t long before he arrived between your legs. He looked in awe at your glistening pussy.

“Already so wet for me.”

He immediately began devouring you, wasting no time.

Your head fell back against the pillows, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. His tongue was huge, wet, and thick. It reached all best places deep inside you, leaving no spot on you neglected.

When he started sucking on your clit, your hands flew to grab his locs, giving them a tug. He groaned at this sensation, sending vibrations to your pussy.

You bit your lip, holding back your moans. Jake lifted his head from your core to look you in the eyes.

“Let me hear you, baby. Don’t hold back your little noises from me,” he said in a low voice, kissing the inside of your thigh.

You nodded, watching as he lowered his head back down.

He went back to work on your pussy, lapping at you like a thirsty dog.

Eventually, you legs started to shake and you came hard, squirting on his mouth and chin. He rode you through your orgasm, sucking up your juices.

When he was satisfied, he went back up to kiss you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. You moaned against his mouth, enjoying the taste of you on his lips. He then pulled back, staring deep into your eyes.

“Get on your side now, baby.”

You obeyed him, rolling onto your side while he got comfortable behind you.

He lifted your leg and lined himself up with your entrance. Without missing a beat, he slipped inside you. You hissed from his size, but soon that feeling was replaced by pure pleasure.

“Are you ready, baby?,” he asked.

“ Yes, my love. Pound me til’ I can’t walk for a week.”

He growled deep within his chest at that remark, and began to thrust into you. Your breasts jiggled from how hard he was ramming into you, something he enjoyed immensely. He kissed your neck while taking his hand and rubbing your clit in circles. You mewled and you raised you arm to grip the back of your neck as he did.

“Oh— my—God, Jake! Right th—there!,” you whimpered.

At the sound of this, he went harder.

You started moaning uncontrollably, your head falling back against him. It wasn’t long before that fire deep inside your belly became white-hot.

“I—-I’m —- gonna — cum— Jake —“

“Let go, baby,” he breathed into your ear, licking the side of your neck as he did.

You came hard, moaning pathetically as you squirted for a second time onto his cock. He helped you ride your second orgasm of the morning, with him coming deep inside you not long after.

He let himself grow soft inside you, pulling out with a hiss from you both. You looked back at him over your shoulder, giving him a dazed smile.

“Wow. I already know if I try to stand up, I’m done for,” you giggled.

“Damn straight. Now let me clean you up.”

He got up from the bed, ducking through the doorway of the bathroom. He retrieved a warm rag and walked over to you. He cleaned you up and once he was done, he laid back down behind you.

He leaned over you to plant a kiss against your cheek, giving you a warm smile. “I love you, my precious wife.”

You smiled, leaned you and pecked his lips a couple of times.

“I love you, too, my darling husband.”

With that, you laid back down, his chest pressed against your small back. It wasn’t long before sleep took hold once again, his soft, even breaths warming the back of your neck.

#jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar (2009)#a:twow #avatar 2 smut

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pandoraslxna · 1 year

Text

Competitive hate

adult Neteyam x female Omatikaya reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: When you compete, it’s always a battle to see who will get the upper hand. And when you fuck, it’s the same struggle.

Warnings: explicit smut, rivals with benefits, hate sex, quickie, doggy style, choking, spit kink, come eating, degradation kink, mean Neteyam, teasing / mutual bullying, sexual tension, they really really hate each other

Notes: this is loosely inspired by a request but I can’t seem to find the ask anymore 😩 I still hope you’ll find this and even though it’s probably a little different from what you had in mind I hope you enjoy it :)

It's hard to explain what Neteyam has with you.

You were loud, annoying, conceited and a brat that didn’t even deserve to be called an actual competition against him. Where he worked hard to succeed, it was like everything in your life was just given to you by sheer luck. He knew it wasn't rational, not even fair, but he couldn't help it. You were pissing him off with everything you did.

Neteyam was the first to undergo his iknimaya and you followed suit, both of you succeeding on the first try. Neteyam was good with the bow, but you were just as good. You were a great hunter, but he was even better. You were faster, he was stronger. Both of you were incredibly smart. And when Neteyam was one of the youngest Omatikaya to make a clean kill during a sturmbeest hunt, you came along and robbed him of his title. It was as if you were taunting him.

No, definitely, Neteyam couldn’t stand you.

But those feelings were mutual.

As if it wasn’t already hard enough to prove to everyone that you were just as talented as he was, Neteyam seemingly took great pleasure competing with you in literally anything you did. There was something about the way he held his head high, so proud and confident in himself, it made you want to puke. He was a spoiled brat, acting like you were always just lucky and that’s it. Not an actual threat to him and his reputation. You were working so hard for all of this and he took this whole thing like it was a silly game. A way of passing time.

You couldn’t even hunt for your own food, without him showing off that his kill was bigger. Couldn’t even weave something for yourself, without him walking around in something that had much more complex patterns the next day, obviously fishing for compliments from other clan members, before they could even acknowledge your own work.

But you had your ways of getting revenge for his stupid behavior. Oh how you loved talking shit about him, to the pretty girls you had caught him sweet talking to. Making them avoid him, the next time he tried to flirt with them, giggling behind his back as they left him standing with that dumb, confused look on his face. It was probably partly your fault he hasn’t found himself a mate yet.

Neteyams way of staying calm while he felt his blood boil in his veins made him feel like a kid, but it was you, the brat. It was you.

So he repaid the favor by starting rumors about you that made all the guys your age whistle behind your back whenever you walked by. None of them were true, obviously. But there was something so satisfying to him, in the way you would get into trouble for throwing your fist at whatever poor guy actually believed you would suck his dick if he just asked nicely enough.

It was an endless back and forth with the two of you, always competing who was better, faster, stronger, smarter…. and neither of you could actually outdo the other. There was never a true winner.

But if there was one thing you both had in common, one thing you both strongly agreed on, it was probably the fact that you hated each others guts from the bottom of your hearts.

Which makes it even more complicated to explain how this had even started.

"Didn’t hurt you, did I?", Neteyam tilted his head as he looked down at you with a sharp grin. Why was he always so unbearable?

"Of course not, asshole", you mumbled as you tried to get rid of the dirt on your hands and knees. That prick had robbed you clean off of your kill, landing his ikran way too close and not only causing you to stumble and fall, but also frightening the Yerik enough so that it ran away. It had took you hours to track that damn thing down!

"Hm, that’s unfortunate", the olo’eyktan’s son chuckled, patting his ikran before the animal took off flying again. Great, so that meant he was planning on staying for a while…

"Don’t you have shit to do?", you spat it him, clutching your bow so hard that your knuckles turned white.

"I just thought I’d let you know that I’m back from my hunting trip and the meat will be enough to feed the clan for a few days. So there is no reason for you to make any unnecessary kills. Not that you actually could’ve killed that poor thing, not with your horrible stance anyways."

Great. Just great.

It wasn’t like you were trying to prove anything here. You just wanted to fulfill your responsibilities, help feeding the clan, even if it was just one dumb Yerik… How was it even possible for him to come back after three days and immediately, you stood in his shadow again? You could already hear the snickering of the other clan members, if you returned with empty hands. And all the talking about Neteyam, oh the golden child of the olo’eyktan, who had once again proven just how worthy he was of becoming the next chief. Fuck this. And fuck him too.

You didn’t even realize how tears had automatically began to prick at the corner of your eyes, your frustration too much to bear, not until you hear Neteyam scoff, "What? Gonna cry now because you have to return with empty hands, while I fed the whole clan by myself? That’s cute, are you really that desperate for praise or—"

"Thanks for stating the obvious, you genius. You can shut up now", you cuss, quickly wiping the tears away before they can fall, "All that talking gives me a fucking headache. Where’s your brother, huh? Don’t you have to babysit or something?" Like a child throwing a tantrum, you slam your bow to the ground and cross your arms over your chest, mumbling curses and what not under your breathe. Much to Neteyams amusement. It was so rare of you to loose your temper, but when you did, Neteyam had this special talent in making things so much worse.

Stepping over your bow, he approaches you, "So you didn’t miss me while I was gone? Must’ve been pretty boring with nobody to look up to."

You grimace at his words and scoff, "Oh don’t flatter yourself, I was praying you’d never come back."

"Yeah right, so you can feel like the number one for once in your life?", he chuckles, brushing a leave out of your hair in an act of fake affection. And that finally did it. Turning to him, you swat his hand away, fuming with rage, "I fucking hate you so much, Neteyam if you don’t shu—"

You’re cut off when his hand grabs your jaw, fingers squishing your cheeks together so hard that you’re unable to speak without biting the inside of them.

"Watch how you’re talking to me", he growls through gritted teeth. But even though his own jaw was clenched, he kept smiling at you. If you didn’t know any better, he would’ve actually scared you like this. But you do know better.

And that’s how it always went. Probably how it all had started too.

In your eyes, there‘s this fire. But the heat in his eyes is different. Your fire wants to burn, Neteyam’s wants to consume. And it wants to consume you. And you let it, let him. Once, twice—

How many times has it happened by now? Neither of you can tell. You’ve lost count months ago.

Neteyams grip on your jaw is firm, prying your mouth open without much effort and you don’t even think before you act, letting your tongue roll out for him to see. And he grins, that bastard really has the nerve to grin that smug grin of his, before he pulls you closer and spits. It’s filthy. Humiliating. But you can’t help and clench your thighs together when he gives you the go-ahead and you swallow his salvia on your tongue.

Neteyams heart beats rapidly against his chest. In some sick, twisted way, seeing you practically steam in anger makes him so unbelievable hard. He likes that side of you, likes your attitude and when you’re a little feisty, because you try so hard to be better than him. Makes him want to fuck the brat right out of you.

He turns you, so fast that the world spins for a second, before your hands find purchase against a tree. You feel him behind you, how he presses himself against your bottom and grinds himself there. He’s hard, you can feel every inch of him, even through the fabric of both of your loincloths. And he chuckles when you push back against him, just as wanton and desperate as he was.

When you compete, it’s always a battle to see who will get the upper hand. And when you fuck, it’s the same struggle. It becomes a push and pull to see who will be forced to submit to the other, who will cum first, who will make the other moan the loudest.

Neteyams hand pushes down onto your lower back, makes it arch some more and he groans when your clothed sex rubs against his cock just right. His hands find the string that keeps your loincloth together, but he’s incredibly impatient and it’s so hard to open the tight knot that he huffs in frustration. And you’re not making it any easier with the way you push back against him over and over again.

"C‘mon just remove the damn thing", he grumbles, his fingertips itching to just reach for his knife and cut it off of you. Turning your head enough for him to see the way you’re rolling your eyes, you slip out of your clothes, discarding them to somewhere on the ground.

Neteyam then pushes you back against the tree, flipping his own loincloth to the side before he lines himself up with your entrance. It’s comically, really. So much so, that he can’t help but laugh with how easy he can push himself inside you. You’re wet, always so wet and ready for him it makes him sick. It makes him hate you even more with how easy you are, how easy it is to work you up like that. Normally, Neteyam enjoys to tease, wants to hear you beg for it just for his ego. But it’s been three days without that tight heat wrapped around his cock and he can’t hold it together any longer.

"I hate you. Oh fuck, i hate you so much right now", he huffs and the grip he has on your hips is hard enough to bruise. You moan when splits you open, pushes himself to the hilt inside you.

"Ah shit", you curse when the first thrust knocks you forward a little, "Fucking asshole…"

"That’s it’s, holy shit. Look at you, taking me like a fucking champ. At least you’re actually good at one thing, huh?"

"Just shut up and fuck me already, will you?", you sneer at him over your shoulder.

"Needy little slut", he spits the words like venom and than slams his hips forward, cock forcing itself deeper inside you, the blunt head hitting your cervix before he sets his pace. He’s rough and fast, deep strokes that knock the very air from your lungs.

There’s not even a response, no smart remark or anything else that would usually come whenever he insulted you like this. But the symphony of moans that you let out, loud and obscene, they do all the talking for you. It was embarrassing how fast Neteyam could turn you into a trembling, whimpering mess. The squelching sounds he expertly worked out of your pussy only added further to your humiliation.

You hate Neteyam. You really hate him. You hate him, hate him so fucking much that you didn’t think it was ever going to go away. His damn, punchable, handsome face was grinning behind your back, groaning when he felt you squeeze around him, because you were close already. If there was one thing he knew how to do right, it was how to make you come. And how to do it quick and with barely any effort. Neteyam knew how to angle his hips, knew which pace was needed and how much force he would need to put behind his thrusts.

And Neteyam hates you for knowing exactly what to do to push him over the edge. He hates the way your tail curls around his wrist, hates how you push yourself back to meet his thrusts and how tight you are, how your warm, wet walls seem to suck him further in until he can barely pull out properly.

"Shit, m'gonna cum", he groans behind you, "Gonna cum inside that tight little pussy, would you like that?" Your eyes widen. With what little sanity you have left, you glance over your shoulder and glare at him, "Don’t you f-fucking dare."

"What if I would, huh?", Neteyam chuckles and the next particular hard trust makes your eyes roll back inside your head, "Gonna make you walk around with my cum running down your legs so everyone can see what a little bitch you are for me." You know he’s bluffing. It’s what he does to make you mad, drive you insane with hate just because it feeds his big ass ego. Still, you can’t help but wonder if one day he actually would…

"N-Neteyam don’t—"

But he just laughs behind you. One of his hands comes up to your throat and then he pulls you back enough so your almost flush against his chest.

"I’m just fucking with you", he pants right next to your ear, his voice low and laced with amusement, "You squeeze me a lot harder when you’re mad, fuck."

The new angle allows him to put some extra force in fucking against your g-spot and your hands reach up to cling to him, nails digging into his arm hard enough to make him hiss and that in return makes you grin. He can’t stand the way your fangs show when you do that stupid face, so he adds more pressure into the grip around your throats and that’s enough to make you come. You choke on your own moans, trembling as he stills his movements and waits for you, holds you tight against him until you come down from your high. It’s probably the nicest thing he’s capable of doing to you.

Your head feels fuzzy when he suddenly spins you around once again, your legs effortlessly give in when he forces you down on your knees in front of him. The look you spare him is nothing more than a glare, still, you open your mouth as if he gave you the command and then stick your tongue out. Neteyams chest heaves as he strokes himself, the tip of his cock hovering just mere inches over your tongue. Neither one of you seem to want to break that intense eye contact as he works a hand over his shaft, fast and rough. You keep your mouth open and tongue out the entire time, not caring for the way some of your drool runs down over your chin and Neteyam can’t help himself when he catches some with his thumb and pops it into his own mouth.

He knows you’re going to be so insufferable about it, but he doesn’t care, not right now. Not when the sight of you on your knees before him is so damn good, he’s going to be so much more insufferable about this to you. It’s an endless circle of teasing between you two anyways.

"Oh shit", Neteyam curses under his breathe and finally, thick spurts of his cum land right there on your tongue. It’s warm, sticky and a little bitter too and you grimace when you swallow. Neteyam looks down at you with that satisfied grin plastered on his dumb face and now you wished you would’ve just spit it out…

"Just know that this doesn’t make me hate you any less", you grumble as you get up to stand on your wobbly feet, brushing the dirt off of you knees.

"You say that every time."

#neteyam smut #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x reader #atwow neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x y/n

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too-much-tma-stuff · 10 months

Text

Home for the First Time

It was early when there was a knock at the door of Wayne Manor, Bruce was still in his nightgown because even though it was nearly noon he’d been out late. He stayed back while Alfred opened the door, curious to see who it was and hoping he hadn’t forgotten he was supposed to meet with press or something today. But no, it was two children, nearly identical besides the fact one had blue eyes and the other green.

“Hello,” The blue eyed one greeted with a bright, charming smile, he had one arm out slightly, subtly shielding the green eyed boy who was hanging back a little, a serious look on his face and a stubborn set to his jaw. “My name is Danyal Al Ghul and this is my brother Damien. Perhaps Bruce remembers an ill advised dalliance with our mother Talia roughly 11 years ago? We are the result, and she says it’s time we meet our father and learn what we can from him.”

“Of course we’ll submit to a DNA test to prove our lineage,” The green eyes one, Damien, put in. Danial didn’t look at the boy as he nodded along.

Behind Alfred Bruce choked on his coffee and started to cough. Alfred was unflappable as always and simply nodded once. “I see, why don’t you two come through into the sitting room? The paternity test shouldn’t take long using our equipment, we’ll just need a bit of your hair,” Alfred said as he stood back and usured the kids in. Bruce deciding now would be a good time to disappear and compose himself before he had to meet these unexpected children.

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

Danyal was nervous and excited as they sat in the drawing room, cradling mugs of tea neither of them had drunk. Damien was probably suspicious of an attempted poisoning, but Danyal was just nervous! Not that he showed it, his hands didn’t shake and an impassive little smile stayed on his face as he observed every inch of the room. That was the difference between him and Dami really, Damien had been raised the heir to the Demon Head, Danny to the Bat and Wayne industries. They had gone through the same physical training of course but they had different behaviours ingrained in them.

Damien had been taught to repress all emotion and not show it at all where as Danny had been taught how to mimic them. Hide his true emotion and show the appropriate ones. A ‘press smile’ as they say, to charm and manipulate and give just the right half answers that truly gave nothing away. He excelled in science and technology which would be perfect for running Wayne Enterprises, so it mattered less that his reading skills flagged behind Dami’s a bit, or that he had been the weaker combatant.

Had been, until he had been struck by lightening and then revived by Lazarus. It had been a disappointment, but thankfully not something he could have been faulted for, an act of god to punish their grandfather for his avoidance of death and because even the gods feared who they would become. He remembered the strike, the unimaginable pain of it, and the aftermath as he lay on the ground, his heart stuttering and thumping to hard, then not, then fluttering, then not, then nothing as he had passed out.

He did not remember being dropped in the pit, but he did remember waking up within it. It burned through his veins, seeping in to the hand that had been struck holding his weapon, racing up along the fractals of energy, collecting the currents that still had him twitching uncontrollably and curling together into a hard ball in his chest. A wash of cold spread over him from his new centre, soothing the burn of the acrid, acidic pit. It made drifting there… comfortable.

He knew it shouldn’t have been, he had seen multiple people break the surface, gasping and screaming and clawing their way to shore, but it wasn’t for him. Then again Ra’s bathed in the pool, so maybe this was alright? It made him wonder about the people who never surfaced again, did they choose to stay because this was how it felt to them too? Drifting listlessly in comfortable… What? What was this feeling. Danny had turned and dove deeper into the pit, seeking answers as he always did, even when it wasn’t wise.

He didn’t know how long he swam before he could see the edges, the pool narrowing closer and closer till he could barely make it through, and then he found an exit. It was small, a porthole into a void of stars and doors. It was unlike anything he’d seen and he realised immediately it was calling to him, that was why he had dove. It wanted him to enter, it called it was where he belonged, it terrified him. When something far to large drifted by his little vantage point he fled back towards the surface, the life he knew, and the broken family he still loved.

He was a bit surprised to find that Damien and mother were still there but grandfather had already left. That was fair really, Danny didn’t know how long he had been down there, but his brother and mother are still there. It seemed Damien was being allowed a rare moment of weakness, on his knees by the edge of the pond, staring blankly into the water with their mother crouching next to him, rubbing his back though Damien’s eyes were still dry. They were… grieving him.

He burst through the surface of the glowing pool, gasping for air he scrambled up onto the bank, coughing up the disgusting liquid clogging his lungs. His ears were ringing and his sight narrowing to a green blur, completely unaware of what was going on around him until two hands, one the size of his own, and one larger land on his body. The smaller set held back his hair while larger rubbed his back, slowly sound returned and he heard his mother’s soft cooing and Damien’s panicked breath.

He gasped for breath and looked up at the two of them, the green retreating from his vision as he blinked rapidly. “Damien? Mother?” He had gasped seeing the relief overtake both of their faces that Lazarus hadn’t stolen his mind.

It hadn’t, in fact he was just as sharp as ever and had found that since then no one could detect him when he wanted to remain unseen, no door could stop him or keep him out. He was what any assassin dreamed to be, but it had also come with new awareness since he had been overhearing things no one would usually let him hear. He had heard the conversations Grandfather had with mother going back and forth about which of them should go to their father, since it was always meant to be Danyal but now with his new abilities he was clearly chosen by Lazarus so maybe he should be the true heir.

Danny known Grandfather was manipulative for as long as he could remember, not like Damien, who still had faith in the league and their grandfather. Damien was smart, and talented, he was suspicious enough for both of their physical safety, but he had a much harder time realizing when they were being manipulated, or when they were being used. That was alright, Danny could make up for this weakness as Damien had done for his unwillingness to kill. It had taken him a while of carefully planted seeds in both Grandfather’s ear and Mother’s to bring them around to the idea of both of them going to father.

Danyal didn’t know if father would be any better, but he would probably be easier to escape from then the league and maybe with some distance he would gain the courage to point out to Damien how it was wrong.

That was how life found them both sitting on their fathers couch, Danny’s tea long since having grown cold. He surfaced from his thoughts, seeing his eyes shimmering unnatural green in the reflection within the cup, as it usually did when he thought about his death.

He blinked it away in time to look up and see Bruce entering the room, he put his smile back on and stood, Damien following suit and looking sullen. They had agreed Danny would take the lead, but Damien still didn’t like it. “You must be Bruce, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Danyal said offering his hand to shake. Bruce blinked looking a little startled and shook his hand, Danny did his bast to give a good, firm handshake, hopefully his hands were too cold. “Mother always speaks highly of you, and even Grandfather admits there’s much we can learn from you,” He said, stepping back to let Damien shake Bruce’s hand as well.

“And anyone who can impress grandfather must be half a god,” Danny joked causing Damien to hiss and elbow his side as he usually did when he though Danny was speaking out of turn. Danny made a little oof sound and then gave Bruce a conspiratorial look, pleased to see he had made the stoic man crack a smile.

“It’s good to meet both of you as well, I’m sorry I didn’t know about either of you until today. The paternity test confirmed that you are my sons, Alfred is already setting up rooms for you next to each other in the family wing. In the mean time how would you feel about meeting a couple of your siblings? I believe Tim, Cass, and Stephanie are home at the moment? You’ve had a long trip, if you’d rather wait till tomorrow then I understand.”

“We’d love to meet them,” Danyal said, a little louder then usual to cover his brothers scoff. Damien scowled at Danyal who scowled back just as fiercely and tried to step on Damien’s foot, he knew the other boy would move out of the way before he could but it would make his point not to be disrespectful! It was clearer then clear that their father didn’t care much for blood given how much he loved all his adoptive children no matter what Grandfather thought. If Bruce wanted a biological heir he could have easily have gotten one, their blood might give them a slight advantage but they would have to prove their merits. But of course Damien believed everything Grandfather said still.

Damien dodged and then kicked back, Danyal rolling his eyes and dodging as well. Before a full fight could break out they both heard Bruce chuckle at them, Danyal gave the man a sheepish smile and while Damien blushed and looked down at the floor sulkily. “Alright, well then follow me. I’ll call Dick as well, I’m sure that when he finds out he has two new brothers to meet he’ll come running, I’m sure he’ll be here for dinner as well.”

“We’ve heard a lot about him too,” Danyal said with an impassive smile, they had to know about those who might be their competition after all. Danyal knew a bit more then Damien but they both knew what they needed to, like strengths and weaknesses. Danyal wondered if he was going to have to come to their adopted siblings defences, he fully expected Damien would try to assassinate them, whether or not it was actually wise to do so.

“Alright, then lets go see Tim first, he’s playing video games in his room. Steph and Cass are in the studio together,” Bruce said as he ushered Danny and Damien out of the sitting room and up a set of back stairs into the family wing of the manner. Danny and Damien following, having a silent argument of signs and dodgable blows about how exactly they should be handling this. What finally ended the argument was Danny flashing fang, his eyes glowing green and baring his teeth at Damien. Both to remind Damien of his true strength and to show how important this was to him, which made Damien relent for now he wasn’t sure.

Either way they had sorted it out by the time Bruce opened the door. “Tim, how do you feel about two new brothers?” Bruce said almost sheepishly and Tim groaned, pausing his game and spinning around in his chair.

“Damn Bruce where did you find these two?” He asked giving his adopted father a tired glare.

“On his doorstep,” Danny said promptly.

“We’re his biological sons,” Damien said at almost the same time, then glared at Danny who shrugged, both were true.

“Damn really?” Tim asked as he finally got up, examining both of them.

“We already did the paternity test,” Damien said with what Danny would call an unwarranted amount of pride.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Danyal. You can call me Danny if you want,” Danny said, stepping forward and offering Tim a handshake and his best smile. Tim blinked and shook his hand. “I’ve never played a video game, they didn’t allow such frivolities in the compound. They look like fun though, perhaps you could teach me?”

“Uh sure, sounds fun. What about you? You want to learn other little bro?” Tim asked looking to Damien.

“Why would I want to learn a skill with no practical use,” Damien scoffed. “My name is Damien, and I do not approve of nicknames,” He said, giving Danny a haughty look as he shook Tim’s hand. Danny just rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say little D,” Tim scoffed. Damien gave an indignant squawk and before he could go for a weapon Danny grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back.

“Okay that’s enough of that,” Bruce said, grabbing a knife Danny had missed Damien drawing and twisting it out of Damien’s grip as Danny got his brother in a headlock.

“Sorry about him, the League of Shadows doesn’t care much for social graces, I barely escaped being just as feral as him,” Danny joked before letting out an oof as Damien elbowed him in the side and escaped his hold.

“Eh it’s not the first time a brother has tried to kill me. I can look after myself,” Tim said, which was clearly a warning to Damien judging by the look. Danny knew that Tim could, but also knew he was still underestimating them, and he hoped that wouldn’t bite him before he figured it out. “Let me know if you change your mind, I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do with tech and media, I’ll be happy to be your guide.”

“Tt,” Damien scoffed and stomped out of the room.

“Well I’m looking forward to learning about all of that, I think it’ll be fun! Ignore him, he’ll come around. Just, uhh, watch him, That won’t be the last time he tries to stab you. If anything it’s a bonding activity for him,” Danny joked as lightly as he could before hurrying after his twin, Bruce on his heels.

Part 2: here

#damien wayne #Danyal al ghul #danny phantom #tim drake #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #demon twins #dc x dp #talia al ghul #Stabbing is Damien's love languag #Danny is gifted by Lazarus #we're skipping the fentons #DC stands for disregard cannon #I don't know much about DC so my writing is vibes based #part 1 of idk how many #Idk how much of this I'm going to write

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bakugoushotwife · 7 months

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kinktober day thirteen: somnophilia kink

>>> y'all i worked breeding into the plot again officer take me away!! i just love soft and domestic sho, and it also totally feels like something he'd love!!

>>> starring: shouto todoroki x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: fingering, oral (fem receiving) somno, breeding, reader hates working lmfao, creampie obviously, mating press. >>> wc: 2.6k >>> event masterlist

shouto loves relaxing. he was sure this was something everyone enjoyed, until he met you. you seemed to stay occupied at all times, delving into hobby after hobby to keep yourself busy. being professional heroes was draining enough, he thought, so why were you indulging in running clubs and extra gym sessions? why did you spend more time learning new recipes and anxiously cleaning the house these days than lounging in bed with him watching tv like you used to? of course, his first assumption is that he has done something to push you away or upset you, as he’s prone to doing. he’s naturally aloof and a bit distant, all things he tries to push past to connect to you, the only person who makes him feel warmth were his coldness usually lies. you know how he is, how he can come off a bit frigid and almost mean without thinking about it, or how he struggles to read your body language and cues—always missing the hints you throw him. you’re used to it by now, far more accommodating than a grown man like him deserves, so he figures this time he needs to get to the bottom of this and make it up to you and prove he can be in tune with your emotions too.

you had grown restless, but it wasn’t all your husband’s fault. you felt so out of place these days, feeling awkward in your own role in life. you enjoy being a hero some days, other days you can hardly motivate yourself to get out of bed. work had become monotonous and meaningless, the streets of japan were safer than they had been in years past, so most of your days were spent patrolling and training if they weren’t consumed in paper work. you felt stagnant, and things were only complicated further by your conflicting emotions. all your friends from school were retired to spend time with their families or in the process of retiring to go home and take care of their parents or kids—and then there was you. a family would be…perfect, but it was a touchy subject with shouto and you didn’t want to press the matter just because you needed a change in life. so yes, you started tinkering around with hobbies to try and get your mind off of things, knowing you had accepted the possibility of not having children when you agreed to be his misses todoroki. he hadn’t taken the possibility completely off the table, but you knew he wanted to broach the subject whenever he was ready. so you started using the home gym a little more, picking up books your girlfriends recommended, even working on your cooking skills all in an effort to feel something other than bored.

you didn’t associate your issues with shouto, still acting as normal as possible in other regards other than your drifting away. you really didn’t think he’d notice given the lack of emotional fluency he had, hoping if you could replace the void growing within you that everything would go back to normal and you could be as happy as you were five or ten years ago. but he had noticed, of course. he missed his wife alongside him, but it wasn’t his fault that he had trauma associated with family and was unsure of himself as a father. it certainly wasn’t his fault that when you got married right out of high school you hadn’t cared—knowing that you love him either way. this is still true, of course, but back then you hadn’t imagined you’d feel this way, this tired of the life you worked so hard for. so ready for the next chapter, especially as ochako welcomes baby midoriya number two and you’re left in charge of the elder brother at the hospital.

the little boy was only about four or so, absolutely adorable and the image of his father. he was a giggly kid, clinging to his “auntie” with excitement to meet his baby brother or sister. ochako called as soon as she was sure she was in labor, and you dropped everything to go support your closest friend, not that you needed an excuse to leave work early anyway. shouto was still working, of course, as a top five hero he was often kept busy. but that left you to wrangle the toddler on your own. it was way easier than you expected, even with the energetic little boy bouncing all over the waiting room waiting for his dad to come get him. he still conversed with you and ate his lunch like a good boy—though that’s because his parents were so good at raising him, but what would you expect from them?

all the day proved to you was that you weren’t just making up solutions to your problems, having a family really is what you want. but still, you love your husband more than this want, so you’ll double down on your hobbies until you find something that sticks.

he reads your texts over and over, waiting on you to get back from the hospital. he had set up a date, truly romantic when he tries to be, and when bakugou answers his calls. following his advice, he had your favorite dinner made and the dining room table was intimately set. ochako had her second baby, and that threw a minor wrench in his plans even lthough he was overjoyed for them, and for you for being their dependable friend in that moment. he sits at the table, all the food keeping warm in the oven as the wax of the candles starts to wane. he had flowers, wine, all the things he knew to try and connect with you and get to the center of your sleepless nights.

when you walk in, he stands, smiling sheepishly. you smile back, though it doesn’t reach the entirety of your eyes. then you notice he’s guarding the table, and you creep closer. “hey, honey.”

“welcome home, sweetheart.” he nods, stepping aside to show you the lovely dinner scene just for you. your heart melts a little at his effort, knowing it was always a great show of his love to do something like this, much preferring cuddle sessions and shared showers over grand displays of affection.

“aw, shou.” you pout, giving him a big hug, “this is so pretty, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you giggle like everything is normal. he hums in thought, slender arms holding your waist as he stews over what to say.

“you’ve been distant as of late.” he says without a trace of malice or disappointment. his words catch you by surprise–he did notice. he lets you go, pulling out your chair and tilting his head for you to sit. “why?”

you clear your throat and sit, any charade you wanted to drum up crumbling in your brain. you can’t lie to him, but how could you approach this without feeling like you’re betraying his trust and wishes. you sigh. “i… i’ve just been trying to find new hobbies.”

“you’re hardly sleeping, and i feel like i never see you anymore.” he frowns, making his way to the oven to retrieve the dinner the chef made. “what is it really, sweetheart? do you feel as if you cannot talk to me? is it something i’ve done?”

you chew the inside of your lip as he assembles food on your plate. “i don’t enjoy hero life anymore. i’m ready for the next chapter, to feel important for other reasons.” you reply, not wanting to make him at fault for your whirlwind feelings as of late.

he takes in what you say, smart enough to connect some dots. the picture you sent him of you holding baby midoriya in your arms and big brother proudly sitting on your lap was the happiest you’ve looked in some time. “the next chapter…as in, motherhood?”

you look up at him, studying his mismatched eyes for a hint of how he feels. you sigh, “i know, i know. i guess that’s why i’ve been a little withdrawn…i feel bad about it, i know what you want.” you chuckle sadly, sipping at the wine provided. “really, i’m trying to get over it, i guess. maybe we could get a dog?”

now he was disappointed. not in your desires, but that you put his possible feelings above your actual ones without ever speaking to him about it. just like you, he had changed as well. he wasn’t the same unsure eighteen year old he was when you married him, and though he still held trauma from his childhood, he had long accepted the concept of being a father since you were by his side. he could do anything if he was with you. he cuts into the meal and gives you a sympathetic glance.

“you should have told me. a family…i think i’m ready for that, if you’re saying you’re ready to stay home in that way.” he hums, knowing you wouldn’t put yourself in harm’s way after becoming a mother. you gape at him, replaying his words over in your head.

“wh–i don’t want you to do it just for me.” you double down, blindsided by his revelation. had you really put yourself through all of this for nothing?

“i would do anything for you.” he replies instantly, and he meant that with no restrictions. “but i had considered it again around the time izuku welcomed his first.”

“meaning you were ready four years ago?!” you almost cry out just from the shock alone, and he chuckles softly.

“not ready to have one then, but i knew i would want some eventually. now is a good time. we’re stable. you made me nervous.” he sips at his wine, eating his food nonchalantly.

“i made you nervous? i–” you sputter, still grappling with the fact that shouto was more than willing to try for a baby.

“i thought i messed up, you were drifting from me. i wish i had known all you wanted was a child.” he hums thoughtfully, a full plan coming together in his head to comfort both of you. “and you haven’t been getting enough sleep for weeks, so i’ll make sure you get both tonight.”

you took that to mean that he’ll fuck you to sleep, another thing he’s prone to do at times. so you shower and meet him in bed, trying to repress your giddiness. you didn’t notice the devious smirk your husband gave you as you sink into his arms. he pulls the blankets over you both, leaning in to give you the routine kisses before bed, and then he turns over like he’s going to sleep.

you look at the ceiling in the dark with confusion. did he forget or change his mind?

“you have to go to sleep before i’ll give you that child, sweetheart.” he speaks into the night, making your heart pound with a mix of frustration and intrigue and warmth at how he cares for you, as worked up as you were for him now, you groan and turn over. your brain is quiet as it’s your heart that races for once, and eventually you’re able to drift to sleep.

he waits a few hours to make sure you’re good and asleep, his whole plan would be ruined if he woke you up. shouto loves you more than anything, and he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was worried. you had to be well rested, especially if you hoped to give him a baby after all. so only when he hears your quiet snores and deep breathing does he scoot closer, gently positioning you on your back. you dressed in a little nightgown in anticipation of him anyhow, so it was easy for him to locate your waiting bundle of nerves. he rubs you carefully, drawing small circles over your hood as you squirm the slightest bit beside him. he slides his fingers down to the familiar hole beneath, nodding at the feeling of slick appearing, your sweet body was responding to him. he crawls between your legs and carefully pushes your nightgown up over your chest, completely bewitched at the sight of your nipples perking up and goosebumps covering your perfect body.

he thinks it’s almost ridiculous to think he wouldn’t want children with you. you’ve been in his life since his ua days and no one knew him like you did. you were someone so clearly meant to be a mother, it would be a crime not to give you the family you deserve. he easily parts your thighs, massaging and kneading the thickness he finds there as he lowers his face to your slick cunt. he’s always so gentle, but no time more than now as he hopes to remedy all your problems in one fell swoop like a good husband should. he laps at your center, angular nose bumping against the sensitive clit nestled above until he can hear your breathing change. he didn’t think he’d like it this much, but knowing that your body responds to him even subconsciously has his dick growing in his pants. you taste just as good as usual, growing wetter against his face with every passing second. he slides his fingers in, needing to know when you came. you spasm around the digits as his mouth focuses your swollen clit, and he knows you won’t take much longer. he may need his time understanding emotions and the like, but he knew your body like he knew his own. a few more flicks of his tongue over your nub and pumps of his fingers tickling your insides has you unraveling, and even in your sleep you look majestic cumming on his face.

he shoves himself out of his boxers, admiring the way you still jerk when he presses his his fingers to your sensitivity. he draws your thighs around his slender hips, angling his pretty cock to your folds. he nuzzles the length along your folds to coat himself despite the pre oozing from his pink tip, taking a second to enjoy that sight in and of itself. then he sheaths himself, careful not to hiss too loud. you feel amazing, clenching him so tight even in the r.e.m stages of sleep, it’s almost too much for him to process. this was the first attempt at a baby, a family he never imagined himself having until he married and matured with you. it’s intoxicating, really, the way he rocks his way into your waiting pussy, silky walls guiding him in and out without any resistance. he has to bite down on his lip not to grunt and moan at how you feel, promising himself that he’d stay quiet and fill you to the brim. he pushes your legs to your chest, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. you only pant softly as he draws in and out of you, figuring this deep angle would be the best for his seed.

all you did was follow his orders, getting the rest he demanded in exchange for his cum, even though he really won in the end. getting you to sleep, getting to see your body recognize and beg for him, getting to shove his cock deep and impress himself on your womb was more than a fair trade. a soft grunt slips past his lips as his hips stutter. his balls feel unimaginably heavy and then they don’t, his heavy load being fucked even deeper by the determined man you married. even when his warmth pools around his own dick as it goes soft inside you, he doesn’t quit, rolling his hips until he’s too sensitive to continue.

he’s the one that doesn’t get any sleep that night, watching you sleep with his seed tucked in you only inspired him to take breaks and keep pumping you full, resigning himself to rest hours later when he can’t possibly cum anymore.

#kyleewritesmha #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #shoto todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki #mha #boku no hero academia #todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki smut #shouto smut #shoto smut

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honey-milk-depresso · 1 year

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“Slip of the tongue, Is no fault of the mind..?” TWST First Years accidentally confess to you

It’s all in the title-MY HANDS REALLY TYPED T*EY CLOVER THINKING THIS IS HEARTSLABYUL AND NOT FIRST YEARS 💀 short scenario write up. Trying a new format shjsjsjdj

**TW: One cuss word from Epel

Ace Trappola

“Argh, you’re so infuriating sometimes, you know that?!” You exclaimed, frustrated with the ginger haired boy in front of you who scowled. “Whatever…” he mumbled, turning away from you as he rolled his eyes.

You flared. “ ‘Whatever’?! Ace, you imbecile, you literally took a blast from that delinquent when we could’ve told a professor! Now you’re stuck in the infirmary! And daring to fight him? How reckless can you get?!” you chided Ace, who once again rolled his eyes and turned away. Yet, his eyes lingered to your form with a lace of guilt in his seemingly annoyed frown. Why do you even worry about him? You always troubled yourself for him when he definitely wasn’t the best guy around.

Why would you still look out for someone as troublesome as he is? And worry about him and stay with him and… care for him? Why?

“What were you thinking when you did that?” Your angry voice rang into his ear. Something in him made him snapped in frustration, his control broken into half. He swiftly turned to face you with an enraged look on his face, making you flinch slightly. But the next thing he said made you feel as if time had stop.

“Because I like you okay?! Do you think I want you to take the hit?” Your breath hitched. Ace softened his frown to become shock, realising he accidentally confessed to you.

“I-I-” Ace tried to come up with an excuse before you cut him off.

“You idiot… I-if you really liked me, then you wouldn’t get hurt for me! Obviously I care about you!” You shouted, a frown etched on your face with a blush burning as red as his own blush…

Deuce Spade

Deuce didn’t expect himself to end up with bandaged knuckles over his callous (and currently bruised) hands in the infirmary.

“Deuce, you punched that punk, obviously it ended with a fight!” You knocked sense into the boy who just looked down while sulking, biting his cheek.

“Why did you even punched him anyway? Just because he upset you doesn’t give you the right to retaliate with violence, I told you that before, right?! Not for his sake, but for your sake that you don’t get into trouble!” you reasoned with a frustrated look on your face.

Never did Deuce expected for you to be the first one rushing to him in the infirmary with a flurry of questions about his well-being and what happened. His heart warmed to the fact you cared for him again. Time and time again, you cared for a delinquent like himself. Even if the past is the past, he couldn’t let go of his sins in history.

When that Savanaclaw delinquent called you a useless student with no magic, he felt that the punch he sent across that punk’s way was to make up for what he was back then, but also because he loved you. He always had.

“Deuce! Listen to me! Why did you punch him?” You asked again, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked at you with a slight frown, mumbling about how they insulted you.

You sighed. “I could have dealt with them you know.” Deuce didn’t know why or what made him say his thoughts out loud. Maybe he wanted to justify himself? Or was it out of impulse? Whatever the case, he just did.

“Well I love you obviously, why would I let him get away with it when he’s right there for me to stop him? What he says isn’t true about you! You’re an amazing, beautiful and-” Deuce stopped to catch on what he was saying, blushing along with your speechless form. “I- I mean-!” You cut him off when you kissed him just as impulsively as he was…

Jack Howl

You were the only one who got to water his cacti. After teaching you the basics, the two of you just never seem to separate from one another. Jack was watering a cactus when you called for him.

“Hey Jack!” You called for him excitedly as he hummed in response.

“You’re looking pretty… sharp with your cacti~” He halted. Did you really just say that?

“Also, hope your Alchemy Assignment doesn’t succ!” You grinned mischievously at him when he turned around with a puckered face.

Sometimes, you just pester him with overly lame puns anyone would grimace at. But even when he does so, you never fail to cheer him up, brighten his day like the sunshine you are.

Maybe that’s why he fell for you.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if you revised. After all, cactus makes perfect!” You giggled. His pretend frown on his face slowly contorted into a burst of laughter, the fam that finally broke the unleashed his bright smile and laugh that made you laugh too.

“Sevens, that was so lame…” he chuckled as he calmed down a little. You smiled too, but immediately open your mouth agape when he said the following.

“I love you so much.”

He smiled to himself, facing a burning red you as he looked baffled. “Are you sick…” he trailed off, finally realising what he said before his cheeks grew red, unsure of what he should say.

“Well, I, um…” he stuttered. “Really?” You finally asked him, his voice stuck in his throat.

Looks like his “cact-I” is turning into a “cact-US”~

Epel Felmier

The petite and small-framed boy hurried over to your dorm, a look of excitement on his face. He felt overjoyed when he smelt the scent of boiling spicy noodles that came from the kitchen and he found you preparing two bowls of it.

“The instant noodles are ready!” You smiled at him. Epel blushed a faint pink, smiling back at you. You’ve always treated him with kindness, you even called him “a man”, something he always wanted to hear. You even said it with sincerity and genuineness that it makes him smile stupidly to himself all the time when he recalled that moment.

It was no mystery to everyone else that he liked you.

Everyone else but you that is.

“Epel, do you like it,” you asked the boy beside you who was slurping the warm, comfort noodles. He never could eat instant noodles in Pomefiore without Vil reprimanding him that it’s unhealthy for his skin. “Yah! Thanks’a Y/n!”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“You always cook them, y/n, of course they’d be fuckin’ great!” He grinned from ear to ear, making you laugh at his rowdy antics showing. He faltered back. “Oh, er, sorry I mean-”

“Don’t worry, I get what you mean. And no I won’t tell Vil,” you giggled.

“Man, I seriously am in love with you.”

You froze, the noodles you were chewing were cut clean into half by your teeth, the noodles that fell out from your mouth splashed back into the hot soup. Epel didn’t thought much when he said that, let alone so confidently without plan after all the times he’s planned a confession for you before never uttering a word out.

You blushed a crimson red, and so does he. He swallowed the lump in his throat, carefully thinking of what his next words should say. “I- I er-” He completely flunked it.

Epel sighed, looking to the ground in shame. “I’m sorry… I really do but if ya don’t-”

“I love you, too.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek wasn’t someone lovey-dovey, or flowery with his language. He told his peers who discuss about love if he were to be in love, he’d just say it to their face with no hesitation.

…He said that before he met you.

Sebek couldn’t comprehend why he couldn’t just say it the moment he caught feelings, and it frustrates him. He planned and planned, but never could carry it out when he faces you.

“Sebek!” His heart raced, swiftly turning to your voice with a scowl on his face. “What is it, human?” he grumbled, secretly joyful about your arrival.

“I er… actually came to you for some advice…” you whispered, leaning closer to his ear as he shivered when he felt your hot breath tickle his ear. Sebek sighed. “What now?”

Honestly, of all the people in your gang he felt a bit lucky you chose him first (although I’m intrigued you did but eh- I would ask him how to make a protein shake-).

“There’s this guy who gave me a letter and… I think it’s a confession letter! He said he wanted to see me outside the gate..! W-what should I do?” He immediately furrowed his pale green brows. Of all things, why this? “Human, do you think I’m an expert in the foolish?” You turned away as you tapped your fingers together. “Well erm, you’ve always been straightforward… I wanted to tell him I’m not really sure if I want to be with that guy but it also gets my point across.”

Without thought, Sebek snatched the letter from your hands and dumped it in the trash can right next to him. “H-hey! Wha-!” And with really no rational thoughts going through him he exclaimed and cut you off, “Tell him you love me because I love you!”

He was furious about it. Unreasonably, yes, but to him it was. How did he accurately feel… what’s that word…? Ah yes.

He was definitely jealous.

A pink hue slowly bloomed to your cheeks, and upon realising what he shouted a red blush soon crept up his cheeks, too.

“H-human, I didn’t-”

“Did you meant it?” You asked as you bit your lip. The way you looked at him… in his head he felt as if you wanted him to say “yes”.

And he hopes he isn’t wrong.

Reblogs help! ^^

#ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #epel felmier #jack howl #sebek zigvolt #twst first years x reader #twst first years #twst fluff #twst scenarios #twst x reader scenarios

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iamcalmdammit · 1 year

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Dirty Thoughts || [Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader]

Note: Dirty thoughts don't care where you are, they just appear. Ghost learns this the hard way while he's waiting for Soap with you in that church tower.

(Sort of a part one here. But it can be read without that.)

Ghost and you made it to the church a few hours after escaping Shadow Company and he quickly set up a sniper position in the tower. He'd been keeping in touch with Soap the entire time, relieved to hear that the sergeant made it out of the situation alive. His thoughts were focused on the task to survive in a hostile environment, but the two of them tried to lighten the mood a bit by telling jokes to each other.

But then Soap went awfully quiet and he was beginning to worry. Did they find him? Was he in danger? Well, in bigger danger than usual, that is. "Where the hell is he?" he asked quietly, mostly from himself.

"I'm sure he's fine," you said with a reassuring smile as you pointed at two Shadows across the square.

Ghost casually took them out then turned to you. "He hasn't said a word in half an hour."

"Maybe he has to stay quiet now."

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, even closing his eyes for a second while he took a deep breath to calm himself. "I hope he's okay out there," he spoke up eventually.

"It's cute that you're so worried."

"I'd rather call it annoying."

"Hey, look at me." Ghost did as you said and turned to you with a questioning look. There was something about the tone of your voice that managed to calm his thoughts in an instant. "He's a big boy, he can protect himself," you told him.

It was true. Soap was an experienced soldier, he could surely do it. He had been doing well before he went no contact, so maybe you were right, maybe he was just at a place that was full of Shadows. "You're right," he noted.

Letting out a sigh, he checked the square again but there was no sign of the enemy. Even though he tried to focus, his mind kept wandering back to the one thought that had been returning since the Shadows' betrayal. What happened was his fault alone, he was in charge, he should have put the pieces together sooner.

Shaking your head, you suddenly moved over to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" you asked with your eyes focused on him, and he could tell you were worried about him.

"This one's on me, I should have known better," he told you.

"What are you talking about? None of us saw that coming."

"You told us you didn't trust Graves."

You rolled your eyes at this. "Yeah, because he's like Prince Charming from Shrek," you began to explain. "Perfect and gorgeous on the outside, and an amoral idiot on the inside.

Perfect and gorgeous on the outside? Interesting. "Does this mean he's your type? Looks-wise, I mean," he clarified.

Ghost expected you to think about your answer, or at least hesitate to say it, but you immediately stated, "He is."

"So you're the type of girl who's head over heels for guys with blond hair and blue eyes," he noted quite sadly, believing for a moment that you wouldn't like what he looked like. After all, sure, you flirted with him when he had the mask on, but what would you think once he took it off? If you weren't his type then he didn't stand a chance.

Focusing on inhaling and exhaling, he looked into the scope of his weapon to check the square. He found a Shadow, eliminated it, then glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. It was strange. When he had told Soap not long ago that he was handsome under this mask, he wasn't lying. Past girlfriends said that often, picking up women had never been an issue, but this situation? This scared him.

What if you rejected him despite everything?

As if you figured out what was on his mind, you grabbed him by the chin to make him look at you. "Your eyes are just as beautiful. Just saying," you added with a warm smile.

"But you haven't seen my face yet," he pointed out.

"Yet? So there's a chance I will?" You sounded so excited all of a sudden, that it made him laugh. If only you knew what was going through his mind lately whenever he looked at you… Well, he could just as well tell you. "What? Why are you laughing?" you asked confusedly.

"Because I wouldn't do the things I want to do to you while wearing a mask," he said bluntly.

Your face lit up and you laughed a little as well. "You have my attention. Could you elaborate?"

"Ghost, you copy?" came Soap's voice through the earpiece.

Finally. "Johnny! Where are you?" he asked hurriedly.

"Not far from the RV point."

"We're already inside the church."

Soap remained silent for a few seconds. "We?"

"Y/N's with me," Ghost informed him. The two had talked a lot since the incident, but this was the first time he mentioned you at all.

"I thought she was on their side."

"Apparently not. We'll be waiting for you. Tell us when you get here."

"Rog."

"And keep me updated while you're on the way."

"Sure."

When Ghost looked over at you, relieved that Johnny was okay, he noticed that you were watching him with an expectant look. When he let out a questioning hum, you said, "So will you elaborate?"

Oh, that. "No." This wasn't the right time to discuss his dirty little thoughts with you. If he went into the details, there was a chance he would use the opportunity that you're alone to get what he wanted from you.

"Okay, keep your secrets then," you told him eventually, moving back to your previous spot and turning back to the square.

He did the same, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand. Soap would soon show up and it would be time to move. He had to make sure the area was clean by the time he got there, so he kept scanning his environment.

But it wasn't enough to avert his thoughts. Even the way you breathed caught his attention, and he kept finding himself looking over at you out of the corner of his eye. "You're killing me," he noted quietly.

But apparently he wasn't quiet enough because you turned to him with raised eyebrows. "I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to. Just being around you is getting frustrating," he admitted, talking about the effects of thinking about being intimate with you.

You looked around then pointed at the door. "Should I leave?" you asked.

"No."

Upon hearing this, you let out a quiet chuckle. "Thought so."

"Shadows are committing war crimes outside, Soap's fighting for his life somewhere, and here I am, having trouble not thinking about fucking your brains out. Unbelievable," he groaned.

"I'm a distraction."

"That you are."

"That's bad."

He nodded. "Really bad, yeah."

Once you broke eye contact and turned back to the small window, you cleared your throat. "Well, you'd better figure something out because Soap will soon get here and it will be time to move. You need to focus."

"Trust me, I'm on it," he barked, maybe sounding a little colder than intended.

Just before you could come up with something, Soap's voice filled his ear. "I'm almost there."

"We'll meet you outside."

"Copy."

"Let's go, he's almost here," he told you as he stood up and began to gather his things. You did the same then began to walk towards the door, but he quickly reached out to grab your hand. "Hey, wait." You stopped and gave him a questioning look. "Be careful out there."

"You too," you said with a smile as you squeezed his hand.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #modern warfare ii #modern warfare

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wintersoldiersoul · 7 months

Text

I should hate you

A/N: So this is kind of unintentionally becoming a series??? I'll prob make one more part to this if you guys want it! Part 2 to Tolerate It

Another night of sleep escaping you. Tossing and turning in your bed once again, as you replayed the conversation you had with Bucky, two weeks ago.

You had seen the pain in his eyes that day. The way that he hated himself for what he had done, but he had truly believed that it was what was best.

You were proud of yourself for how you had reacted. It would have been so easy to fall back under his spell, to instantly forgive him and just run back into his arms. But as badly as you wanted that, you knew you couldn’t. For your own sake, you needed time.

What if it happened again? What if on another mission something went wrong and Bucky did the same thing? You couldn’t put yourself through that again. His actions had made you hate yourself. Even now, when you knew the truth there was still a little voice in the back of your head saying that it was all your fault. You wondered how Bucky could ever say those things to you, real or not. You didn’t understand how he could put you through so much pain, even if he truly believed it was for your own good. You couldn’t just take him back so easily. But you also couldn’t hate him.

To his credit, Bucky gave you space. He didn’t text or call or bombard you whenever you were in each other’s presence at the tower. He knew you well enough to know that you would come to him when you were ready.

There was one part of the conversation though, that weighed heavily on your mind. “A week before that mission, you were browsing engagement rings,” Steve had said to Bucky. Was that true? Was Bucky really planning on proposing to you? It felt like that life, the one you had built with him, existed on a completely different timeline than your current one.

You had been staying in your bedroom at the tower for the past week. Being in the apartment you used to share with Bucky hurt too much. You were too overwhelmed with pain that you couldn’t think clearly about what to do. Plus, Bucky was on a mission so you knew he wouldn’t be around for a few days at least.

Giving up on sleep and in need of a late night snack, you headed to the kitchen. As you opened the cabinet, you spotted a box of pancake mix sitting front and center. Your mind was immediately flooded with images of Bucky cooking in your kitchen. He made you pancakes every saturday, always making it a point for the two of you to sit and have breakfast together and catch up after your insanely busy weeks.

The memories broke you. God, you missed him so much. The pain was physical, a constant tightness in your chest preventing you from breathing. You couldn’t control the sob that escaped as your knees gave out and you crumbled to the floor of the kitchen. You had gotten used to crying alone.

Time didn’t exist as you sobbed, arms wrapped around yourself. You didn’t know if it had been 3 minutes or 3 hours when the elevator opened. You didn’t even hear it. You didn’t register Bucky’s footsteps as he approached you, still in his suit from the mission he had just returned from. You didn’t even know he was there until you felt his arms around you. How ironic that the man comforting you was the reason you were crying in the first place.

He wanted to give you space but he couldn’t do it anymore. Not when you were broken and alone on the kitchen floor at 4 in the morning.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered, stroking your hair. You didn’t fight him off. Didn’t tell him to leave. Just for a minute you needed to let yourself be weak. His own tears started to fall as he held you. He hated that he had caused you so much pain. That the broken state you were in was his fault. “Y/N, look at me. Please.”

You shook your head. “No. I can’t,” you answered, fighting for breath in between your sobs.

He sighed, trying to curb his tears. “I know you hate me,”

“Hate you?” You interrupted. “I wish I hated you! I should hate you! I wish more than anything in the entire world that I only felt anger towards you. I would do anything to hate you!” You finally found the strength to look in his eyes. They were so full of pain and longing.

“Can I make you some tea? C-can we just sit together for a little bit? It doesn’t have to mean anything but just,” he ran his hands through his hair. “Please. Just for a little bit.”

He was right. You could let him comfort you for a bit. Sit with him and enjoy the presence of the man you missed so dearly. Just for a little. “Okay.”

A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders and a mug of tea in your hands. “I don’t know what to say to you, Bucky.”

He sat down next to you, careful to not get too close. He wanted to respect your boundaries. “I know. I have a lot to say to you but I don’t know if you wanna hear it.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times trying to work up the courage to ask your question. “Were you planning on proposing to me? Was that true, when Steve said you were looking at rings?”

“Yes.”

The word punched the air out of your lungs. If only things had gone differently. If those fucking words hasn’t been used. If Bucky had just talked to you, the two of you would have been happily engaged right now. You would be planning your wedding, elbows deep in binders of wedding venues and colors and themes.

“I still want to marry you. More than anything in the entire world,” he continued.

“Then why did you ruin it?” You snapped.”Everything that’s happening right now is your fault. I thought it was mine. I convinced myself it was my fault. But it’s not. I gave you everything, Bucky! Everything I could possibly give you. And you made me feel like it wasn’t enough. That I wasn’t enough.”

“I know,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I know.”

“But I can’t hate you!” You continued. “How am I supposed to hate you when you did that to protect me?”

“Y/N, can I show you something?” He reached into his bag and pulled out a brown leather notebook. “You don’t have to talk to me right now. But please, please just read this.” He opened to a specific page and handed you the notebook.

Your heart stopped as your eyes scanned the page. It was a letter. He had written you a letter.

“Y/N,

I hate myself for what I have to do. I hate myself for a lot of the things i’ve done but this is easily the worst. Hurting you is worse than being tortured by Hydra. I wish I could be different. I wish our lives were different. I wish that we had met in a bar like two normal people and lived a normal life free of violence. I wish that Hydra hadn’t been there that day. I wish I had been just a little stronger and that those words hadn’t triggered the Winter Soldier. And I wish, more than anything, that I wasn’t a danger to you.

You deserve so much better. So much more than what I can ever give me. You should be with someone who’s life is free from trauma, who can shower you with the love you deserve constantly and most importantly, someone who doesn’t have the possibly to lose control and hurt you.

You are a beacon of light, Y/N. The most beautiful, kindest, intelligent person I have ever known. I am in awe of you every single day. I see the way that you’re still trying. How you want to be there for me through this. I wish you didn’t. I can’t do it. I can’t say goodbye to you. I need you to do it, okay? Because if I have to, it will break me. I hate hearing you cry like you are right now as I write this. You’re so much better than me. Please, don’t waste your tears on me.

I hope one day you’ll understand. I hope you know this isn’t your fault. I hope you know that I still love you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop, even on my death bed I’ll still be thinking of you.

You are an angel, Y/N. Don’t let me ruin your light.”

The page was stained with your tears when you had finished reading. Reading his words that he had written in real time hurt so much. God, you just wanted to forgive him.

“Bucky…” you looked up at him. “I’m so scared. What if this happens again? I can’t deal with that. I can’t make it if you abandon me again.”

He grabbed your hands and looked directly into your eyes. “I will never abandon you again. Never.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you didn’t know if you were talking to him or yourself.

“Let me hold you,” he whispered. “Please. Just for tonight.”

You nodded. He wrapped his arms around you tightly for the second time that night. The two of you stayed like that the whole night, falling asleep against each others bodies.

The next morning you slipped out of his arms before he was awake. That was a mistake, you tried to tell yourself. But it didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt right.

You tried to avoid Bucky any time he was at the tower. He still wanted to give you space but he also just wanted to show you how much he loved you. And so every day there would be a little gift on your bed. A box of chocolate from the place that you had mentioned once was your favorite, that pair of shoes that you had said months ago that you liked, Of course he knew he wouldn’t make up for all of the hurt he had caused with material things but he just wanted to show you that he cared. That he paid attention and took note of everything you said and did.

He had a lot to make up for. A lot to pain to mend. But you missed him so much. So that day, when you ran into him in the living room, you threw him a bone.

“Dinner tonight. Just us. You can pick where.”

So that’s how you ended up sitting across fr Bucky. He had chosen your favorite restaurant in the city, of course. Anything to make you happy. He just couldn’t believe that you were actually here, sitting with him.

“I know I keep saying it but I’m sorry,” he said when you first sat down.

“No,” you stopped him. “None of that tonight, okay? Tonight I just wanna enjoy time with you. I’m not saying I forgive you and that we’re back together but I can’t ever get there if we can’t just be us.” You knew you couldn’t do this forever. Just stay in this inbetween of being mad but wanting him so badly. You’d never be able to let him go, you knew that. So you decided to just start slow. A normal dinner where the two of you could just talk like you used to.

Four glasses of wine later, you were having a great time. It was like the past few months had never even happened. Of course the alcohol had helped you along the way but mostly, you had just missed him so much.

The two of you continued to go to dinner together once a week but you had a rule. No kissing. Not yet. It felt like you had to rebuild your relationship from the ground up.

You were happier than you had been in so long. Bucky continued to show you how much he cared about you but it didn’t feel like he was trying to play a game with you as the prize. It genuinely felt like he just wanted to spend time with you in any capacity that you would allow.

Things were good. Until you got the call from Steve. An emergency mission. There wasn’t even time for you to all prep. He explained to you what was happening on the jet.

It was a hard fight, each enemy stronger than the last. Your body was so filled with adrenaline that it took a second for you to realize where all of the blood dripping onto the ground was coming from. It was coming from your body. The bullet that had just found it’s way into your body.

You dropped to your knees, the world around you alredy growing blurry. You were losing a lot of blood and fast.

“Y/N!” Bucky ran faster than you’d ever seen. “Oh my god, Y/N! We need to get you to the jet right now. We can help you there, okay?” He spoke frantically.

“B-Bucky,” you gasped for air. “J-just hold my hand, okay?” You felt so tired. You just wanted to close your eyes.

“No. No keep your eyes open baby, okay? Keep them on me.” He grabbed your body off the ground and started to take you to the jet where Bruce was waiting to help out anyone who got injured.

“I… love…you,” you spoke slowly. Your time was running out. “T-tell me you love me.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’ll tell you when we’re at home, okay? I’m gonna tell you the second we get out of here.” Of course he loved you. But he couldn’t say it here. If he said it right here right now, it felt like he was accepting that you were about to die out on the field.

“P-please,” you begged, fighting harder and harder to not let your eyes close.

“You’re gonna be okay. And you and me, we’re gonna have an amazing life okay? We’re not gonna waste time anymore. No more wasting time. We’re gonna have a beautiful wedding. We’re gonna adopt a bunch of cats just like you’ve always wanted. And we’re gonna travel the world together. That life is gonna be ours so you have to stay alive, okay?”

You weakly nodded. You had to fight for that life. He was right. You had wasted so much time. You saw the jet in the distance. If you could just make it, you could get help. That life he had described could be yours.

“Never forget I love you,” you whispered weakly before the urge to close your eyes grew impossible to resist.

Tagging people who wanted part 2: @sarah1barnes @my-obsession-spn @lets--be-honest @chloeannastarlight @missvelvetsstuff @sunset90 @diannana @thatmarvelloser @alana-32 @dyingsinglecuzimfangirl @jamesbuckybarnes1917

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hobisstar · 6 months

Text

So delicate| jjk x fem!reader

summary: Love isn’t fun when your young lover is caught cheating.

Warning: JUNGKOOK IS A PIECE IN SHIT IN THIS OMG, 8 year age gap, dom! Jk, sub! Reader, mentions of smut, toxic relationships, cheating, after math of cheating, and that’s all I could think of. Oh and maybe a little bit of yandere.

Crash.

Was what yn felt when she got home. Oh she couldn’t wait to just crash and go to sleep after a nice hot shower. But of course, that’s not what happened.

No you see yn came home to her boyfriend, cheating. It’s not like she was surprised no she has felt this was coming since a few months ago. Just how dare he bring into their home? How could he? The he in question is none other Jeon Jungkook.

According to jungkook they were falling apart after her late night working hours and his chilling at home hours. And because not to mention yn is a little older than Jungkook. Yn being freshly 34 and Jungkook being 26, they bumped heads with that 8 year age gap.

Yn frowned upon it so so much, but for some reason Jungkook insisted that they be together and forget about the age gap. They were adults in love and that’s all that mattered to him.

Recently, it hasn’t been so much love though. Yes, it’s still there but after this, is it?

One day Jungkook was nitpicking. Everything yn did that day, he just didn’t like it.

Going to work, didn’t like.

Walking around in clothes, didn’t like.

Not holding him tightly enough when she left for work, didn’t like.

Not riding his cock until he was begging to breed her with his then limp leaking cock, didn’t like.

The last one, cause an argument. Can you imagine having an argument while being onto of your lover? After he basically cummed in you more than once? Same. I couldn’t!

But yn being yn, she tried. Truly she tried to understand so much of his recent actions but what he said the day after? Was heart breaking.

“It’s not my fault that you decided to date a 26 year old at your old age. Should’ve dated someone your own age..”

It didn’t hurt yn because she knows it was true. So her rebuttal was

“ your right. And since you are so fucking right I’m done with you. You don’t want to be with my old ass anyways so I might as well find someone who will.”

Soon, that argument turned into angry sex. Yn saying she hates him while Jungkook replies I love you and your mine.

A whole lot that honestly needed to end anyways.

But this time, you were serious.

As soon as yn heard the moans coming from what once was their shared home, she quietly walked to the room, opened the door, packed a bag, and went downstairs. She completed drained out Jungkooks yelling and the woman’s panic voice trying to call Jungkook down when all she got was a get the hell out, to that she did.

“Baby… I thought you had to work late today?” He mumbled walking up behind her.

Yn did one swift turn toward him and looked him in the eyes and smacked him. “ You… you dare do this behind my back but you got some hefty balls to do this in my fucking home? I’m not surprised. Jungkook you’ve been hinting at this since 5 months ago. I was just dumb enough to ignore them. So you know what? Stay with her. Stay with whoever. I’m done and you don’t have to worry about my grown ass any longer… I’m done. Officially.”

Yn grabbed her bag and walked passed a stunned Jungkook making sure she shoulder bumped him on her way out.

He didn’t even attempt to stop because he knew. He knew that if he did she’d never have a chance of leaving of again. She wins this time. He told himself.

Oh let chaos begin…

#bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #hobisstar writes #jungkook ff #jjk #bts jeon jungkook #BTS #Jungkook smut #yandere jungkook #bts au #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts scenarios #bts fic #bangtan #bts jeongguk

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harrysonlylover · 3 months

Text

Karma Rules (Mechanic Harry Part 6)

Summary: A phone call from Niall and its aftermath changes your perspective. Can a fairytale be fixed?

Warnings: alcoholism, drunk harry, over drinking, unhealthy coping, miscommunication, angst, mentions of alcohol abuse, hangover.

Please do not read if these trigger you.

Wc: 8k

A/n: Please keep in mind that this is just fan-fiction and some bits about the hangover may not be 100% true, as every individual is different than the other and deals with it in an another way.

Rereading part 5 is good for refreshing your mind!

This is also the final part!

Part 5

When it came to receiving good and bad news, people generally preferred getting the bad news first so that the good ones would soothe them. You followed that preference as well, but you didn’t always have a choice.

Not when you moved away from home, not when your car broke down, not when you discovered the truth about your “job”.

And certainly not right now.

The phone was still pressed to your ear, Niall’s voice was coming out muffled and incoherent. Your heart was banging against your ribcage, and still, the blood barely reached your other organs. You couldn’t move, or put two and two together. Not even ask him what happened.

The room was suddenly dark despite the lit light bulbs in every corner, the clock necklace that you didn’t even get to thank Harry for was ticking around your neck. It was the only sound you could hear as if it was torturing you on purpose.

Tick tock.

A reminder that whatever happened to Harry was your fault. Maybe if you had stayed—

It wasn’t an ideal timing for your brain to taunt you and make you feel pathetic. Niall’s voice was calling for you, asking if you were listening but you were simply trying to pull yourself back to the present.

Your body fell against the sofa, and you dug your nails into the cushions. The clock was still piercing your ears because you could grab it right now and reverse it but you won’t go back in time to change whatever had happened.

What did he get himself into?

“Are you listening to me?” Niall’s panicked voice urged you to focus. You were obliged to ignore the nausea and the guilt your brain was throwing already. Because that’s how things went every time, you only needed a simple situation for your brain to torture you.

“Can you repeat what you said?” Your throat was as dry as the desert. You thought about standing up and getting a glass of water, but you’re not sure if your hands would be able to hold it.

“It’s Harry! He’s fucking drunk—way too drunk. He doesn’t drink Y/n, he hates alcohol.” His tone told you all you needed to know. It pained Niall to say it like he was on the verge of tears.

Was he talking about the same Harry that drank herbal teas and scolded your food choices? You were somewhat worried that he might have gotten into a car accident at a race, but he didn’t. So why does this feel worse?

“I—what?” It wasn’t the best you could say in a conversation like this, but it was better than the radio silence.

“Listen, he’s in a really bad state. He’s lucky that he’s a bit conscious.” He sighed, clearly worried about his friend.

It was nearly nine, not so late in the evening. For how long was he drinking to get to this state? You never saw him drink nor did he open the subject. Your legs moved before you processed what you were doing.

“I’m coming.” You spoke as you headed toward your bedroom.

“I didn’t want to stress you, and I know you’re wondering why I chose to call you but he’s been mumbling things about you.” You stopped in your tracks at his last sentence, your fingers placed at the light switch, too numb to move.

“What did he say?” You whispered in a shaky voice.

“I—don’t know, it was all weird and—“ His voice was cut off as his attention turned to Harry. He mentioned some things about drinking water and lying back. The last thing you expected was for Harry to speak.

“Did ya know that she smells like strawberries?” It took him longer to say the sentence than normal. It came out slurred with hiccups, and a small laugh.

“Shit—drink water H.” You could hear Niall pouring him a water cup.

“Sweeettt. Y/n is sweet.” Niall didn’t have to answer your previous question, you were witnessing it yourself.

It is said that a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, and that scared you more than it comforted you. Niall was trying to soothe Harry, and get him to have that cup of water but to no avail.

“I’m not nice. She deserves nice.” His words weren’t as coherent but you caught some stuff through the speaker as you put on a random jumper and sweatpants.

“I’m coming Niall.”

“You don’t have to—I’m here.” He moved away from Harry whose voice got distant but was still mumbling stuff.

“No, I’ll be there shortly.” You hung up before he could object.

It would take you around 15 minutes on your bike, normally you avoided going out when it was dark but you didn’t have any rational thoughts swimming in your head.

Your mind was consumed by him the entire road. Why would he do that? Just because you left? But again—you were no one to him. Just an employee. So why did he mention you and blurt out weird stuff?

He might have kissed you and let down his guard a couple of times but that didn’t mean anything, right?

It’s surely not a big deal, everyone probably knew that your hair smelled like strawberries, that you’re sweet, and deserved someone nice. Or did they not?

You had nothing in mind on what to expect, you didn’t even know what you were planning to do—but you weren’t going to sit around at home while he was in this state.

All the overthinking kept you busy until you reached his house. The little yellow home that reminded you of warmth, is now radiating coldness. You dreaded going inside, fearing what would be awaiting you.

Was it your fault? Did that mean that you mattered to him?

You got off your bike, grabbed your bag, and headed slowly towards the front door. Niall must have left the door slightly open for you, but before entering—something jumped at your legs.

You looked down to see an antsy Snowbun circling around your feet.

“What are you doing out here?” Per your knowledge, he should be asleep in his small bed by now. You picked him up and cradled him in your hands.

“Are you running away from Harry or Niall?” The latter was his sworn enemy. Snowy replied by twitching his ears, earning a smile from you.

“Let’s get inside, shall we?” You scratched the top of his head before turning the doorknob and entering.

The once vibrant house filled with music sounding from the record player, and the smell of home-cooked meals was now dull and cold. It could be the open windows allowing the night breeze to sneak in, or the absence of Harry’s energy.

Everything was a mess.

The living room was untidy, and there were broken shards of glass around the floor with the smell of whiskey lingering in the air.

It wasn’t necessarily dirty, but it somewhat reflected Harry’s state, as his house could mimic his inner feelings. Snow Bun jumped out of your hand and headed towards his bed in the corner.

For a hot minute, you thought that Niall left considering how empty the house felt, until you heard his voice coming from Harry’s room.

“Hey—just lay here.” Niall seemed like he was trying to convince Harry to rest. You sneaked a glance inside the room, only to find Harry attempting to get up and walk—towards you.

“Not dreaming.” He let out a small laugh upon seeing you.

Niall sent you a soft smile before directing his attention back to Harry.

You have never seen him in such a state. His face looked like he had aged a hundred years, his eyes were tired and hollow, and he was barely conscious.

You stood motionless, trying to process his situation, what he had done and most importantly why.

You wanted to step forward and assist Niall who was lifting him to the bed, but your body was stuck in its place. You have seen your fair share of situations and were always unaffected, but Harry had an unusual effect on you, and maybe—you did too.

“Shortcake.” He hiccuped again, accepting the cup of water this time. He took two sips only and rested his head against the headboard.

You were aware of his direct stares, but you didn’t speak or move. You bit your nails as Niall tucked him under the duvet. He was slowly dozing off by the minute, with less mumbling that you didn’t quite catch.

The room went silent except for the sound of crickets coming from the window. You stole a glance at Harry who sounded so relaxed while sleeping despite his disturbed state.

You let out a sigh of relief once you were sure that he slept, at least he would get some rest.

“How much did he drink?” You whispered to Niall with a scratchy voice.

“The whole fucking bottle.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and motioned for you to leave the room.

You closed the bedroom door and followed him into the living room. He began picking up the shards of glass, so you kneeled to help him.

“How did you know that he was drunk?” Niall was visibly upset with what went down, he was his close friend after all.

“I didn’t… I just happened to pass by. I haven’t heard from him in a while.” He shook his head in disbelief, so you assumed that whatever this was, it wasn’t common.

You picked up the remaining pieces and disposed of them in a bag. You arranged the rest of the living room silently with Niall, but the silence was just too loud.

“Niall?” He turned his head to you.

“Yeah?”

“Most people get drunk—like it’s not right but it happens. Why did you freak out?” Your curiosity was getting the best out of you. You weren’t dismissing Harry’s state—it just didn’t make sense.

Niall dropped the broom to the ground and took a seat on the couch.

“Harry has had a rough past y’know? It wasn’t ideal.” You sat down as well, giving him your attention.

“He had an abusive alcoholic father. It’s not my place to say much, but it left an impact on him.” He spoke as if Harry was his biological brother. It was clear that he cared for him deeply.

You swallowed down your throat upon Niall’s confession. He hated alcohol. It must have reminded him of darker days. He barely opened up about his childhood to you, but many things clicked for you.

“I’m sorry that I troubled you. I was just shocked because he never got drunk, let alone drank in the first place.” He clasped his hands together and spoke with sorrow.

“He was in the worst state ever. I couldn’t understand why he kept talking about you.” He swiped his hand through his hair and gulped down a cup of water.

“What did he say?” Your voice was timid and small like you were dreading to know the truth. It may deny or confirm something.

“Stuff about you being an angel, that he messed up?” He shook his head, trying to remember some details.

“Also that you were too delicate or something.” He scrunched his face at his lack of memory, unaware of your expression.

Is that what Harry thought of you? It was so overwhelming to find out all of this within a short time frame when his actions did not reflect what Niall was saying.

You didn’t doubt that Harry was a good man, not at all. But to hear these words so casually, as if they weren’t the sweetest things you have been told—

“Sorry—I didn’t know he had feelings for you.” Niall broke the silence.

“Feelings?” You questioned, attempting to control the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I mean—the way he spoke about you…it was emotional. I called you because I thought he’d need you.” He scratched the top of his head, rethinking what he had done.

“It might have been something destructive because he never drank—“ He didn’t complete his sentence, and stared at the wall instead.

He must have caught on to your cluelessness and took a step back. You were picking at your nails with your head lowered down. Everything hit you like a rollercoaster and you needed space.

“You don’t have to stay Niall. I can manage.” You assured him.

“I can stay, I don’t mind.”

“You’ve done a lot already. You’re a good friend.” You tipped him a smile and he understood the cue.

“If you need anything, just call me.” He stood up and walked towards the door, before giving you one last glance and leaving.

Conveniently, Snow Bun ran in your direction as soon as Niall was out of the door. The little bunny jumped on your lap and got himself all cozy.

You instinctively patted his head and cradled him. A few tears fell down your cheeks against your will. You pushed back everything you were thinking of and walked to the refrigerator.

“Are you hungry? Harry probably couldn’t feed you.” Just the thought itself made you incredibly sad for no reason. Perhaps, it’s the fact that underneath it all, Harry was just a guy who loved his privacy and spent time with his bunny.

The more you recalled nice gestures that he did, the more tears fell. You weren’t sobbing, but everything was hitting you all at once. Whatever you processed this evening was hard to consume, even in small doses.

Snow Bun immediately began nibbling at the strawberry you offered him. You couldn’t help but recall when Harry fed him in front of you, it was a happier night.

You’re glad that he feels safe to take food from you. Was he able to sense Harry’s mood?

You offered him another strawberry which he ate comfortably like a baby. You placed two more for him in his bowl and cleaned up around the house to pass the time.

There wasn’t much to do, a few dirty pans, messy pillows and blankets all over the place, and a bit of Snowy’s dry food that fell out of his plate.

You opened more windows and lit a candle to allow the whiskey smell to fade. Thankfully, the broken glass was the first thing you and Niall cleaned up—but you were still skeptical about it.

You picked up the broom that Niall dropped earlier and cleaned under the couch to make sure that there was no glass left.

You felt a sharp pain in your chest upon wondering how it shattered. Did he lose his balance and drop it? Or did he do it out of frustration?

Your train of thought was interrupted when the broom collided with something. You could feel that it wasn’t glass, so you pulled it in your direction and reached your hand under the couch to grasp it.

It was a notebook.

It was already open, and your eyes landed on what was written. You flinched, feeling disrespectful for taking a glance despite not helping it. You wouldn’t want someone to look through your journal—but your eyes were glued to the words.

A few lines were scribbled at the top of the page including your name with Harry’s handwriting that you memorized so well. Yet, these lines were blurred out due to the scribbling—but you could make out the word ‘apricity’.

Underneath them were the clear unscratched lines that made you let out a silent gasp.

Starry haze, crystal ball

Somehow, you’ve become some paranoia

Just like a nepenthe

But your gift is wasted on me

You allowed your fingers to touch the paper, to make sure that this was real and that you weren’t hallucinating.

You quickly moved on to the lines under them and your knees nearly buckled.

I was thinking about who you are

Your delicate point of view, I

Was thinking about you

The last line ended on a whim and was more of a question than a sentence.

Just you?

You closed the notebook and threw it on the couch like it was poison. You were breathing heavily and your legs carried you straight to the refrigerator for the cup of water you’ve needed since Niall called.

You gulped down two cups frantically as if it would help you process or erase what you read.

Finding out that Harry most likely drank because of you, and might have had feelings for you was enough. But to see that he wrote lyrics about you?

Maybe it was scary because it was a concrete confirmation. It shut down the overthinking and the endless questions just with a glance at a piece of paper.

The suffocation was threatening to close up your chest, not caring about the soft night breeze and the lit candle that smelled like Harry.

It seemed as if his secrets were unfolding with any action that you took. There’s only so much you could handle in one night, so you laid down on the couch. You will sleep here, you won’t leave him alone.

You covered yourself with a blanket and were soon joined by Snow Bun who made himself comfortable next to you.

You contemplated grabbing a book from your bag but even that doesn’t seem to work anymore.

You wondered what could soothe a person if not books.

Still, there wasn’t much you could do. It was close to eleven and you would soon fall asleep—but until then your mind would get the chance to torment you.

What will you do when he wakes up? Will you have the courage to ask him about everything? Does he even want you around?

These questions and many more went through your head as you shifted on the couch. Though, that seemed to annoy Snowy who was trying to sleep, unaware of all the troubles.

Being a bunny is quite easy. ——————————————————

Harry struggled to open his eyes. His brain didn’t aid him and was not functioning properly, the same way car engines fail to roar. A tiny grunt left his lips, he was attempting to regain his consciousness, despite being overwhelmed.

A sharp pain stemmed from his head, the one people get from being beaten with a bat. He felt out of place as if he switched bodies with a completely different person who neglected themselves.

His bones and muscles didn’t ache—but the fatigue was embedded in all of his atoms.

Another grunt was elicited, followed by a hiss. The morning sun sneaked through the window, casting its light on his tired figure. It burned his eyes and worsened the pounding headache he felt.

His mouth was dry like a man who hadn’t taken a sip in days, he could feel it with every grunt as he swallowed down his throat in an attempt to hydrate his system.

“What the—“ He mumbled, forcing his eyes to open again as he collected the energy to raise his hand and shield his face from the sun.

The neurons in his brain worked hard to transmit signals. He needed just one memory to recall—a reason even to understand what led him to this state.

He buried his face in the pillow, relieving himself from the sting of the morning light. He groaned as the headache became unbearable.

What did he do last night?

The few cells that got to work urged him to connect things and conclude a reason—the headache, fatigue, and memory loss all pointed towards the unthinkable.

But no, he wouldn’t. Right?

He possessed great self-control, confided his sister in when he felt suffocated, and would never allow himself to resort to a destructive outlet.

No matter how torn he felt, how maimed and beaten his heart was—he prided himself in needing no one and repressing his sadness.

Right?

His muscles worked together to lift his body slowly. He supported himself on the mattress with his hands and observed his surroundings with squinted eyes.

Everything seemed normal, nothing was out of place. The bedroom was tidy and neat, the way he always maintained it.

Yet, his attire had him confused. He never went to sleep with his work clothes, he either slept shirtless or with a clean tank top.

He couldn’t help but bring his hand to his temple. The pain was unbearable, flashing like thunder and echoing in his skull.

Attempting to piece some bits of information together was a tough task, let alone when he couldn’t quite remember whatever went down the previous day.

His senses gave him a push until his brain connected some dots and realized what his mouth felt like besides dryness.

It was Whiskey.

“No—“ It would be a reasonable justification. His body warned him when he first opened his eyes, but he was in denial.

Fatigue, muscle aches, headache, thirst, and in his case— feeling like absolute shit.

“What did I do?” He groaned, in response to his pain and stupidness.

He’s had his fair share of atrocious headaches and fatigue, yet he was never subjected to immense emotional maim that led him to this state. Not even in his younger years. He vowed to never touch a bottle in his life. He had a few beers as a teenager, but that was the extent.

He never wished to become a spitting image of his sperm donor or inflict harm upon others using alcohol.

Something that he must have done.

Recalling the cause of his ache was effortless; not because of its intensity or his functioning memory. But because he simply could never push someone like you out of his mind, even when he was in a foggy state.

“Y/n.” He whispered under his breath.

He was in shambles upon reading your letter. He needed an outlet to empty his pain. A pain that he inflicted upon himself and you.

It was an internal battle; treating you like shit to push you away, when all he wanted was to hold you and kiss your soft lips.

How could he even dare to have you? The most delicate being he ever met. You were an angel that fell on earth accidentally. Maybe god was searching for you, but Harry wanted you selfishly to himself.

He didn’t deserve you, well no one did actually—but a boy could dream.

Your soft aura and charming personality would never fit in a million years with his dark heart and destructive thoughts. You were so delicate that he feared breaking you, and if that ever happened, he’d never forgive himself.

He was a weak man when it came to you. Your contagious smile, books, warm personality, and kind manners. Love was never on his agenda, he didn’t even have any vision for his future. Nothing but his career maybe, but of course, you’d tip his scales over.

You became his dream, someone that he wished he could have. He didn’t realize that his heart was betraying him, leading the tide against his rational thoughts.

In some way, he was a prisoner of your presence. You simply had to walk inside the room he was in, and all his problems would evaporate.

Even when he first met you, despite his cold tone and expression, he was deeply enamored by you. He never wanted to find out information about a person this bad, he needed to know who you were.

He didn’t consider himself a dedicated reader, sometimes a book here and there but—a philosophy he once read stuck with him.

The philosophy of Descartes, his dualism, and the notion of mind and body being distinct, yet intimately related. It was logical to him to a certain extent but as of late, Harry created his philosophy.

The mind and body were foes; often joining together to set up a scheme. This scheme was to torture Harry. His body belonged near you, but his heart kept him up at night. They were allies for once, simply to dismantle his sanity and imprint invisible bruises on his body.

And so they managed to trap him, render him a fool in front of you, and destroy any small chance he might have had.

He gathered all the energy left in his fatigued body and got up from his warm bed. The sun’s rays burned his eyes yet embraced his skin lovingly.

He wondered why Snow Bun wasn’t next to him, it was against his habit but maybe he was just roaming around the planted strawberries again.

The first thing up was brushing his teeth, getting rid of the awful smell was essential. He hoped he wouldn’t have to do this again.

The sight of his tired face in the mirror had him double checking. When did it get so unbearable?

For most people, this was barely an issue—but for Harry, it tipped his life upside down.

He doesn’t go well with emotions, communication or even figuring out what the other person wants.

“Shit.” He splashed cold water on his face before grabbing a clean cloth and drying it.

He would need a while to feel better again, to accept what had happened, and avoid leading himself to that state.

He had a quick cold shower to give himself the illusion of being clean, even when his system wasn’t. The fresh set of clothes and cologne elevated his mood, and the sting of the water helped with his headache.

He needed a nutritious meal despite the nausea bubbling in his stomach. Besides, where the hell was Snowy?

Harry reached for the doorknob as wet droplets from his hair fell on the ground. He barely advanced a few footsteps before stopping in his tracks.

He had an inkling that his feelings toward you, and the letter you left influenced his actions last night. But, seeing you asleep on his sofa with his bunny cuddled to your chest was not on his list.

He stood in the doorway with barely a few breaths coming in and out of his nose. As if a time traveler somehow arrived at this moment and froze his body.

Could he still be dreaming?

He wasn’t worthy of your presence, not even in his dreams.

He didn’t even deserve the wasted sun rays that hugged him earlier. They should’ve poured their focus on you, just like they were doing this instant. Your skin was covered with gold, somehow glistening more than any other human being. This is how an angel sleeps, he thought.

He was so jealous of the sun, envious even. It got to kiss every inch of your skin and keep you warm, unlike him.

The golden color stretched to your perfect hair, shut eyelids, and soft raspberry mouth. Your chest rose slowly, even your breathing was delicate.

He didn’t blame Snow Bun for liking you one bit, even a bunny knew how pure you were.

He didn’t mean to stare like a creep, but funnily enough, his pet blew his cover. Snowy awoke from his peaceful sleep and disrupted you in the process.

You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the moving bunny who had enough sleep. It seemed like you did too as your body felt satisfied with the hours you rested during.

The room was bathed in sunlight and warmth, and surprisingly to your right—was Harry standing motionless.

“Harry! You’re up.” Your legs moved before your brain processed anything. You were up on your feet in no time, facing a confused yet tired Harry.

“H—hi.” He swallowed down his throat.

“How are you feeling?” Your hair was all over the place and you couldn’t tell what your face looked like, but you had to check up on him.

The night went by quickly, and the next thing you knew, he was standing next to you, hopefully sober.

“Pretty shit.” He pressed his lips together, ignoring Snowy’s thumbing on the floor.

For an unknown reason, his response elicited a tiny giggle out of your lips. One that eased his headache.

“I—“

“Do you remember anything from last night?” You beat him, feeling way too curious.

You had a plethora of things to say and discuss, stuff you should’ve said long ago.

“Just a bit. Not the entire picture.” He bit on his tongue, feeling the blood drain from his body.

Standing in front of you, seeing you, and hearing a question that was brought up yesterday triggered a sudden flashback.

How Niall dragged him to bed as you stared at him with fear and worry.

So he fucked up again.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out before you managed a response.

“What for? You barely remember what happened.” You shrugged.

“Everything.” He averted his gaze downward in shame.

It was out of a movie scene, two individuals facing each other in a sunlit room, way too stuck in their heads to see right what’s in front of them.

This moment was ageless. Your torn expression and his sorrowful face. Your sympathy and his regret. A powerful duo indeed.

Only in instants like these was silence positively uncomfortable. The silent eye contact back and forth, uncaring for the ticks of the clock, or what lies behind the eyes. The invitation to open your hearts broadly for one another, without shame or hesitation. Just two young beings diving into each other’s souls, passing control over to their bodies and hearts; even if they betrayed them.

He offered you an immense amount of vulnerability that he’s never given to anyone, simply by eye contact.

As if your souls had a secret language that they used.

“I—“

“Well—“

You spoke at the same time before stopping in shock.

“You speak first.”

“No. You talked first.”

He gestured for you to speak, and you swore you have never seen him this polite and held back.

“Hmm. I know this isn’t an ideal timing and that it’s quite rough for you right now. But how about breakfast and a mature conversation?” You asked with your bottom lip hidden between your teeth.

“I’d love that.” He nodded with a weak smile. The only one you managed to get from him for what felt like ages.

You refreshed in the bathroom while Harry prepared breakfast. It was similar to when he cooked you lunch. The same aroma drifted in the air with the sound of the oil sizzling and the same warmth that radiated from the house.

But this time, it was more awkward knowing that a conversation awaits. What were you supposed to say, and should you take the initiative of starting small talk?

You washed your face with water for the second time, dreading the return to the kitchen. You offered to cook since you knew he wasn’t feeling well, but he insisted saying ‘It’s the least he could do’.

Snowy managed to follow you to the bathroom (after he had his breakfast), and you smiled at his excited thumping.

“Let’s go.” You cradled him and returned to where Harry was using his chef skills.

He looked up the moment you walked in, offering you a gentle smile. Your heart ached at his gesture for no reason.

“Are you feeling okay now?” You cleared your throat as you sat on a stool near the counter.

“Somewhat…My headache is a bit better.” He scratched his head, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded, moving your attention to Snowy who was clueless and happy in your lap.

“I remembered some stuff.” He mumbled rather quickly as he flipped chocolate chip pancakes.

“Oh?” It was a good sign because you didn’t know how to tell him that he randomly mumbled stuff about you.

“Um, yeah…” He remained silent for a few seconds and checked in on the delicious scrambled eggs he was preparing.

“I’m sorry you had to see that last night.” His words reeked of shame and guilt. There was a sense of vulnerability in what went down, and for a man like him, it would be a hard pill to swallow. After all, someone else had seen his weakness.

“Harry, I—“

“No, just let me say a few things.” You hadn’t expected him to begin talking now. But, it seemed that you were too busy admiring his tired face to notice the plate he slid in front of you.

“Eat please.” He gestured to your plate with concern when he was the one who should be fuelling his body.

“You need it more.” You argued, with signs of worry flashing over your face.

Sweet sweet shortcake, Harry thought. Always putting others before you.

The look of determination on your face was evident. Besides, could he ever say no to you?

“Look, I’m eating.” He grabbed a pancake from his dish and took a bite.

You swallowed thickly and joined him in taking small bites of food. He felt more full just by watching you eat contently. He tried to ignore the whirling thoughts in his brain, whether or not you had dinner last night.

“I’m sorry again.” Harry gathered his courage and looked into your kind eyes.

“It wasn’t your responsibility to help me, nor Niall’s.” An undertone of pain was hidden in his voice.

“And it was all very immature of me.” You could tell that it was hard for him to maintain eye contact, you’d struggle too if you were in his place. So, you averted your gaze away to relieve him.

You didn’t interrupt him, it was clear that he had many things to say.

“I ruined your evening, made you worried, and had you sleep on an uncomfortable sofa.” He swallowed down his throat, with his fingers digging crescent marks on his palm.

“I’ve put you through so much just because I do not know how to communicate.” He shook his head in disappointment.

“We’re humans, we kind of designed to miscommunicate.” You shrugged.

“Not to this extent shortcake.” His eyes held the key to everything. You used to think of him as an enigma, or impossible puzzle. But now, he was like a flowing river that held all of his thoughts that had been pressing to come out.

“I—It’s not an excuse but I’m not a fan of alcohol and I’ve never been drunk.” He swiped his hand through his hair, finally caving into his anxiety and averting his gaze.

Going with the flow and confessing that you knew was not an option. You wanted him to open his heart out instead of making him feel like he was already exposed.

“And my father was an alcoholic—“ He took a deep breath and remained silent for a few moments.

“Harry, you don’t have to push yourself to talk.” You whispered despite being alone in the room.

The signs of tiredness on his face were somehow getting worse, and a single tear slid down his cheek. Your hand immediately reached out to wipe it, making him stare lovingly.

He didn’t reply verbally. Instead, he softly grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles with his eyes shut as if he were pouring something into the kiss.

“Sweet shortcake.” He gave you a hint of a smile as he gazed into your eyes.

“A fly wouldn’t dare to hurt you, yet I did.”

“Stop blaming yourself.” You grabbed a strawberry from his plate and brought it to his mouth. He accepted it contently and went back to silence.

The staring was not unpleasant like you thought it’d be. It was a continuation of standing in front of each other in the living room. Just two souls speaking in a different language.

He caught you off guard by breaking the silence with a shocked yet joyful expression.

His hand reached out to your neck where the necklace was dangling beautifully. He ran his fingers over it, before turning it backward and smiling at the engraving.

“You wore it.”

“Of course, might be my favorite necklace so far.” His smile was so broad that he seemed as if he had forgotten all about life’s worries.

“It suits you.” He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Because it’s special. Uncle George gave it to me and told me all about it after I left your garage.” You unintentionally broke the joyful bubble by reminding Harry of the awful events that led to this moment.

His expression slowly fell until his hand retracted away from the necklace.

“Harry—about that letter, it was immature of me. I should have faced you—“

“It’s completely your right. I’ve been so fucking shitty. I didn’t even deserve an explanation.”

“Don’t say that—“

“I’m serious. You wasted your kindness on me.” His hands were under the counter, but you had an inkling that they were shaking.

“I have a lot to explain and—“ He continued to ramble vigorously.

“H, breathe.” You stepped off the stool and went to his side.

He was rushing to tell you everything, not giving his body or mind a chance to process because he needed to explain himself. He’d go on his knees if he had to. His anxious rants and fast train of thought were nothing but an outcome of fear.

Fear of losing you.

A small part of him still believed that no matter what he said or did, you would still leave. Even if he ripped his heart out and gave it to you as it leaked black blood on the kitchen floor.

So he fired with everything that made him vulnerable, just to keep you, or at least the thought of you if you allowed.

And you knew that, god you knew. It had you fighting back tears as you faced him.

“You’re still very tired. And we don’t have to talk about every single detail right this instant. You need to rest, we both do.” Your hand caressed his cheek softly, and his face unconsciously leaned in.

“We need time to think, feel, and process what happened. I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I just won’t work for you anymore.” You weren’t the best confronter, but judging by the look in his eyes, you weren’t doing so bad.

“And—when the time is right, we’ll talk about many things.” It was your turn to tear up now, and of course, he mimicked what you did earlier by wiping your tears away.

“Can I say one last thing?”

“Yes.”

“You have bewitched me, body and soul.” He took pride in saying it, his eyes raking all over your face to save your reaction in his memory.

The slow appearance of your dimples, the soft furrow of your eyebrows, the realization dawning on your face followed by the most adorable giggle he has ever heard.

“Did you just quote Mr.Darcy!” You covered your mouth with your hand.

“He’s my number one inspiration.” His dimples made an appearance and god you’ve missed them. They brought joy to his worn-out yet beautiful face.

There was a certain undertone to his statement that had you holding back another giddy smile. One of them indicated quite the resemblance between him and Mr.Darcy. How he was cold towards Lizzie at first when he was simply smitten all along.

‘He’s my number one inspiration’

Was your story similar to theirs? Was he your Mr.Darcy? Bitter yet soft when faced with the possibility of losing you?

Another suggestion that knocked the breath out of your lungs was the sentence that would follow.

‘You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, love you.’

He didn’t utter it, but the idea of him even quoting your favorite book ever sparked goosebumps all over your skin.

“How did you even know what he said?” His eyes were glued to your smiling face, and if he ever lost his memory, he begged any existing divine being to only keep this sight of you.

“I read it.” He confessed proudly as if he were an Emperor flaunting his possessions.

The bluebirds have arrived and made themselves comfortable near the window. They would soon begin their orchestra as scheduled.

“You read Pride & Prejudice?!” You gasped unintentionally, causing a faint blush to creep up his cheeks.

He hummed with a grin threatening to break on his face and chewed on some eggs as you admired him.

You ached to ask him why he read this specific book. A part of you knew, but the other part craved to hear it.

Harry read your favorite book.

“Actually… speaking of reading.” You swallowed down your throat and readied yourself for your confession.

He turned his attention to you, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“You read a new book?”

“No—I’m in a reading slump honestly. My first one.” Your face fell, something that he immediately noticed.

“Oh—“

“It’s fine.” You shrugged, dismissing the issue. It did pain you but that wasn’t your current focus.

“What I wanted to say is that—I was cleaning some broken glass yesterday…” His jaw clenched at the mention of the glass. He didn’t think about the mess he caused, and bringing it up brought the guilt back.

“And I found something.” You were still trying to articulate proper words, but his facial expression saddened you.

Harry couldn’t decide if his brain wanted to pour its attention on blaming him for the broken glass or think about the ‘thing’ that you found.

“Yeah?”

“I did not mean to look—actually that’s a pathetic excuse.” You covered your face with your hands and let out a small groan.

“My eyes landed on some written stuff and I couldn’t stop reading your notebook.” You blurted it out as fast as possible, with an antsy body language.

“Shortcake—“

“I’m really sorry…that was rude of me, but I—“

“Calm down.” It was ironic how he managed to soothe you with two simple words.

“It’s all good, m’kay? Besides, the poem is about you shortcake.” Another proud confession left his lips as if what he said wasn’t so destructively beautiful.

You were always the reader, and never the writer. But Harry canceled both possibilities and made you the muse.

“I meant every word, and I always will.” He whispered as if the bluebirds would hear him and steal his sacred poem.

You could feel your eyes swelling with tears, your left knee was shaking and you couldn’t maintain eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry this is a lot to take in.” You covered your face from embarrassment.

“No pressure, shortcake.” He assured you with a thousand knives going through his heart.

Snow Bun broke the tension by thumping repeatedly until Harry kneeled, and picked him up.

“Someone wants attention…” Harry chuckled before Snowy jumped out of his lap, straight to his plate on the counter, and helped himself to strawberries.

“…or my strawberries.” He shook his head in disappointment for falling into Snowy’s trap.

Your laughter echoed in the room, overshadowing the birds’ songs. A laughter that healed Harry, and reflected his happiness.

“Do you want more food? Are you full?” He gestured to your empty plate.

“Thank you H, I’m all good. I think I’ll head home now.” You got off the stool and grabbed your bag from the sofa.

“Yeah—Okay. Let me dress up quickly to drive you.” He was heading towards his bedroom before you stopped him.

“No, it’s okay. I have my bike.”

“I insist, it’s the least I could do—“

“H, stop saying that. I promise I’ll be fine on my own.” He studied your facial expression to try and figure out if you genuinely do not need the ride.

“Besides, I don’t want you driving immediately after yesterday night, you should rest and I need some fresh air.” You tipped him an honest smile that had his heart pumping.

“Sure, whatever you like.” His hands were in his pockets as he stood facing you.

‘I don’t want you driving immediately after yesterday night’ had him frozen in his place.

It toyed with his heart and messed with his blood pressure. You said it so casually as if it didn’t indicate that someone cared about him—and not just anyone, it was you.

His shortcake, his delicate girl.

You walked towards the front door as Harry watched with intent eyes. After a few steps, you stopped and turned around in his direction.

He was taken aback by your action and straightened his posture.

“I’m really glad that you’re safe.” You blurted out, as you looked into his emerald eyes. He didn’t get the chance to form a response before you engulfed his body in a tight hug.

His hands immediately wrapped around your body, savoring what you offered. You warmed him up in a few moments more than the sun that woke him up.

A whiff of your strawberry shampoo was stuck in his nose and that was all he needed to feel better.

Somehow, his hands were perfectly molded for your waist, and your height was perfect for him to lower his head and lay it against yours.

Despite his wishes and dreams, you pulled away from the hug with a soft smile painted across your face.

“Bye, H.”

“Bye, shortcake.”

It was an easy departure, not filled with heavy weight on your chest or guilt. The complete opposite of your arrival last night.

You weren’t trying to avoid Harry when you said that it would need time, but you knew that some space would do good for both parties. Pondering and reflecting was a necessity, especially for Harry.

The yearning to hear Harry’s explanations remained nestled deep inside you. Your patience would undergo a practice with a small hint of knowing what was coming.

For once in your life, you didn’t jump to conclusions stemming from your anxiety. What you felt, heard, and saw was enough.

You didn’t want Harry to rush everything because you could feel how the sentence was on the tip of his tongue, along with quoting Mr.Darcy.

He had feelings for you, and it was mutual.

You allowed yourself to feel the giddiness and rush while simultaneously acknowledging past events.

What led you to write the letter, Harry’s coldness and ignorance but also his sudden moments of warmth and kindness.

Denial wasn’t an option for you. You felt attracted to him since day one, and rightfully so. As for his feelings, you’re yet to delve deep into that topic.

Time does not heal, but it’s more of a breather. Last night was emotionally charged, but it somehow changed your life upside down.

He didn’t specifically confess his feelings, and nor did you. But you kept going back to those moments of silence when your souls had a quiet chat against your knowledge. Perhaps they confessed then because you really know.

If you were to think deeply about it, Harry did the one thing he vowed to never do just because he thought that he lost you for good.

It pained you to even consider it, but that indicated how much you meant to him.

Drinking to punish himself, his poem, his apologetic sweet face, his urge to spit out every single excuse his heart held, and his body that held you as if he was shielding you from the world.

He was the man you read about in your books, with all of his good and bad traits. In fact, he was better than them because he was real with a beating heart that you listened to when you hugged him.

The past would not be forgotten, it would be vaguely memorized to learn from your mistakes as human beings who were designed and destined to commit mistakes.

The next best thing after sunshine, books, strawberries, bunnies, and poems was second chances and fresh beginnings.

Even with the knowledge that many mature conversations await you, there was something comforting about this morning that carried a whiff of warmth in the air.

Harry liked you, and you liked Harry.

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barzysunflower · 3 months

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As a story request Since we see barzal at charity events when if he meets y/n there but she was a waiter serving she takes those gig sometimes to make extra cash but she serves some sleezy men who whistle at her and while she was surviving drinks barzal stands up with out see her above her by accident she spills the drinks on her self all the guys at the table yelling and her even her boss barzal helps her and apologizes but at the same times he’s like so mesmerizing by her but her boss ends up yelling at her telling her to go to the back while and mat just say it was his fault don’t blame her but the boss being a bitch says no it’s her fault bla bla but barzal trying to find her he thought it was over when he doesn’t see her anymore and he can’t just leave the charity he’s gotta stay Intill the end he lost all hope and felt bad for getting her in trouble but faith came true because since the players were the last to leave he sees her just waiting for her Uber he immediately goes to her and then… ending anyway you want :)

hii thank you for the request 🫶🏼 I hope you like this one!!

wc: 1.2k

once upon a time — mat barzal

It was a late summer evening and you strolled around the pier, enjoying the breeze and last moments of peace before you'd have to clock into work. You already had a long day of work behind you, but New York was expensive, so you took waitressing gigs at all kinds of fancy events to get some extra cash. While the money was great, those few hours were extremely stressful and sometimes the clientele you were serving could get on your nerves.

You were right to take those extra few moments looking at ocean, the horizon, to just daydream, as when you walked into event you could immediately tell it was going to be a bad night. But you sucked it up and went to work. Despite the new manager already yelling at everyone making you want to turn right back around when you walked in.

You were running around all night, serving food, taking plates away, and dodging older creepy men trying to hit on you. But it was part of your job to keep that polite smile on your face while also remaining invisible, so that's what you did.

It was later that night though, when things really escalated that had you evaluating whether the money you'd make that night was truly worth it. You were serving more drinks to probably the loudest table at the event, but honestly they were having the most fun and were the only table that hadn't pissed you off yet, when one of the guests stood up, pushing his chair right into you and spilling the tray of drink all over your- and himself.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry." The guy immediately apologized, scrambling to pick up the broken glass off the floor. A few seconds filled with shock and extreme awareness that the entire ballroom's attention was on you had you standing still, but you quickly bent down to help manage the mess.

"I'm so sorry." He apologized again.

"No, totally my bad. And please stop, that's my job," you cut in, still not looking up to meet his gaze.

"No, I didn't look before I got up. I'm so sorry." You finally looked up at the intriguing voice to look into beautiful green eyes. He stared back just as intensely as you did, both of you stopped shoving pieces of glass on to the serving tray. The rest of his face was just as beautiful, but you didn't have much more time to stare at him further as the angry voice of your manager cut through that little bubble.

"What the hell happened?"

You were the first one up, barely meeting the intense gaze of your manager. "I tripped. I'm sorry–"

"No," the green eyed beauty quickly interrupted. "It was totally my fault. I got in her way, I didn't look where I was going."

Your manager gave him an apologetic look, but he could hide the anger behind it. "No, it's her fault. She's to be invisible, meeting your needs. She should watch where she's going."

"No, really–” But his attempt was cut off again, you manager now apologizing to the table, to him, and waving over more staff to come clean up the mess. Then he turned to you with a furious look on his face that he kept hidden behind a fake smile.

“You. In the back. Now.” You flinched at his words, knowing it couldn’t lead to good ending. Tears welled up in your eyes. You were exhausted and overwhelmed and someone yelling at you for something that wasn’t your fault just added to your breaking point. But you wouldn’t break just yet. Not in front of this group. Not in front of the handsome stranger, who was still advocating for you to your manager – though useless – and shooting you apologetic looks. “Now!”

That’s when you finally moved, around the people cleaning the mess, walking as fast as possible away from the prying eyes of everyone in the room. In the kitchen, the other servers who definitely witnessed what happened came to your aid with some water and encouraging words, but they quickly went back to work when that beast of a manger came storming in after you.

To say that you were let go would be an understatement. He did not listen to a word of defense you tried to offer and instead turned your termination into a lecture for all of the staff on how not to do the job. No one spoke or rebelled his words, everyone including you just silently staring at him as he yelled. You stopped listening a while ago, fully knowing none of this was your fault and that there had to be something terribly wrong with him to fire you for one mistake.

When the manager’s speech was finally over and you were ordered to leave, you did so without hesitation. So you left, ran from this horrible day. Ran from this horrible job. The only thing haunting you as you ran were those beautiful green eyes.

***

“Then what happened?” The small girl curled up into your right asked, fighting a yawn.

“Yeah! What about the prince? Did he run after her?” You turned away from her to look into the eyes of your firstborn, her green eyes lighting up in excitement.

“He did,” you answered, not hiding your smile. “In fact, he was so anxious to catch up to her that he left the ball early, asking everyone in sight if they had seen her. All he wanted to do was apologize to her. It took him a while, but he did eventually find her outside, just as she was about to get into a car- a carriage. He leaped into traffic, stopping the girl just in time, but not without causing a bunch of passengers to angrily honk and yell in protest.” The two girls giggled at your dramatics.

“Well, it was worth it. She was so beautiful he couldn’t not go after her and do anything to talk to her.” The deep voice wrapped around your heart, warming it.

“Was?,” you playfully asked your husband, looking your eyes with his beautiful green ones that your daughter had inherited.

“Is. She still is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” You smiled at each other, both remembering when Mat caught up to you, out of breath and messed up hair from the wind. He rambled on for a while, apologizing for getting you in trouble and his adventure of finding out more about you and were you had gone, only stopping when you laughed at him calling your manager a brainless shithead. It was the prettiest laugh he’d ever heard and told you so. Your blushing only grew his own smile and you had no idea what came over you when you returned the compliment. He convinced you to stay and walk with him for a bit along the pier and you talked and talked and talked as if you had known each other for ages.

“Did they get married?,” your seven year old daughter asked.

“They did,” you answered, still smiling. “And they had three of the most beautiful children.”

You looked over the king sized bed with your family in it, Mat on his side with your five year old son fast asleep on top of him, your three year old daughter next to you and your oldest squished between you and Mat. And you thanked the lucky stars for that horrible job and Mat’s horrible lack of awareness of his surroundings.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fics #hockey imagine #nhl blurbs #new york islanders

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maxidentscene · 2 years

Text

sleeping on the couch after an argument

⚘ genre. fluff with pinches of angst

⚘ members. ot8

chan picks you up and carries you to your shared bed

He doesn’t have a heavy amount of regrets, but god, he has never felt worse than he does right now. Chan knew he should’ve just taken a deep breath, controlled himself when going back and forth with you but he let his voice raise a bit too much for you

The fight was dumb. It was dumb, pointless, stupid, and every other negative word in the book. It definitely was not worth having you so upset with him that you didn’t want to be in the same bed

“Come here,” his chest is tight as he squats down, gathering you up in his arms as careful as he could. You stirred awake despite how slow he took it, blinking your red eyes up at him

You quickly put two and two together, so tired that you didn’t even try to fight back. Instead, you found warmth in his hold, the way you curled deeper into him almost made him cry because he just felt so guilty and sorry

“I’ll do better,” he tells you while covering you up and getting you all comfortable. You only nod, giving him a small smile. The shakiness in his words let you know that he really means it

lee know sleeps on the floor beside you

Minho was really fucking irritated and it wasn’t your fault, his schedule and his health and everything in between was suffering lately. He snapped and it just so happened to be on you, something that he didn’t even want to admit because he was so ashamed

Coming home to you snuggled up on the sofa barely surprised him, he already figured that you wouldn’t want to be around him. He fixed your arm that was hanging off of the side, settling it back down on your torso

After getting showered and sorting through his thoughts, he brought his own stuff out, making a small bed on the floor beside the couch. “I’m sorry,” he muttered to your sleeping self, throwing the pillow down to where he needed it. “Really sorry.”

You couldn’t hear and maybe that’s why he became so vulnerable, sitting with his back against the sofa, gazing at your sleeping form. A thumb ran against your arm soothingly, his eyes becoming tired

He’d make it up to you. Whether it be making you some good food, apologizing 1,000 times, he didn’t care. He’d set it right with you

changbin doesn’t let you sleep at all

You resist the urge to kick out as you feel nimble fingers pull down your sock slowly, fighting back a small smile despite the heated argument the both of you had earlier

“You’re not sleeping here,” Changbin picks up your legs to make room for himself, sitting down and laying them in his lap. “If you won’t come to bed, you just won’t go to sleep tonight.”

The persistence was agonizing and he stood true to his words, gently slapping your thigh when he’d see you nod off, you really could smack him right now. But, you’re not the strongest soldier, so you give up on being petty and walk to the bedroom with a deep sigh

You can hear him giggling to himself as he follows you, eagerly jumping into bed and pulling the covers over you. Only then, when he was scratching your back to lull you to sleep, did he tell you that he was sorry for today

It was always better to avoid going to sleep in a bitter mood. He felt this way too, literally keeping you from dozing off with good intentions. How could you stay mad at a sweetheart such as himself?

hyunjin is on his knees, apologizing and begging you to sleep in bed

It nearly broke his heart into two to watch you gather up some sheets and pillows, jaw dropped as you left the room without a sound, scrambling up to follow you out to the living room

He knew you were mad. You had every reason to be and he knew even more that this would die down with some rest, some food, and some time. But he can’t just sit here and watch you be so angry that you don’t even want to sleep beside him

“I know you may need your space, but please,” he was kneeling in front of you, hands on your knees, pleading with genuine eyes. “I don’t want to sleep without you.”

You didn’t want to sleep without him either, you figured space was best for the both of you, failing to see just how much Hyunjin needed you. Needy wasn’t the word, he was desperate and had no shame in showing it to you

“We’ll talk in the morning,” you let out a small sigh, taking the shaking hand that was held out for you and letting him lead you back to bed

han doesn’t even allow you to make it to the couch

Reading you like a book, he can already tell what you’re thinking as you chew on your lip and eye the pile of blankets folded neatly on the desk. “No,” he’s quick to spring up and shut the bedroom door dramatically. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re locking me in here now?” You try not to smile, biting the inside of your cheek as you feel him tackle you into a hug, falling back into the bed. “This isn’t cool. I’ll scream and the neighbors will think something bad happened.”

He only shook his head, locking you into his hold, determined to keep you right where you were because it would probably kill a part of him to watch you walk yourself to the couch. This was your bed too, you deserved somewhere nice and comfortable to sleep

“So be it,” he hums into your neck, waiting for you to stop fighting and calm down so that he could actually let you go, sitting back up and staring down at you. “Don’t go out there. What if someone breaks in? You’re better off here where it’s warm and nice and safe.”

Of course, he also had trouble sleeping without you, but that can be discussed at a time with a lighter mood. For now, that amount of persuasion should hold you off

felix grabs a blanket of his own and plops down next to you

You knew Felix felt bad and you hated fighting with him, it was rare for a reason and that reason was that he always came to a compromise for you to make things better on both ends

But after tonight, you just thought one night on the couch would do you wonders, maybe you’d miss each other so much that you just let bygones be bygones. That’s how you ended up on the huge leather sofa, cold and alone, hours passing since he had left to get some fresh air and dinner

Felix felt winded as he walked in to you on the sofa, his heart aching. You just looked so empty and he really couldn’t sleep knowing that you were in a state like that. It was only a matter of minutes until he was changed, dragging a bigger and fuzzier comforter to cover the both of you

You melted in his arms, letting him place stuffed animals around you, realizing that you were wrong, all you needed was a small break

“Don’t let me make you so sad that you do this ever again,” he held his pinky out, waiting patiently for you to lock it with your own. Turning down the literal sun itself was morally wrong, so you gave in and agreed

seungmin offers to take the couch instead

A hand wrapped around your wrist gently, big puppy eyes looking up at you, disappointment clearly written on Seungmin’s face. “I’ll take the couch instead tonight if you want.”

You were dead silent, heart racing so fast that you were afraid he could feel your pulse pounding against his palm. Even when he wasn’t on the best terms with you, he wanted the best for you

“No…” you let him tug you towards him, sighing while he hugged you, his hair getting messy as he nuzzled into your side. “No. This is stupid, it was a stupid move, we’re acting like we’re 12.”

“You’re acting like you’re 12,” he snickers softly and maybe he was right considering it was your idea originally, you didn’t have a comeback for that one. “Just stay in here. I’d feel a lot better.”

Seungmin believes in giving you space when you need it, but you both know that you don’t want it or need it. The argument was over, the tension was gone, and apologies were given. There was nothing left to do than to resume with your life the way you normally would

jeongin tucks you in and wishes you goodnight, refusing to let you go to sleep feeling unloved

One thing Jeongin knows is that he doesn’t appreciate being woken up under any circumstances, it puts him in a bad mood and he usually can’t go back to sleep. So, when he spots you in a ball on the couch in just a hoodie and pajama pants to keep you warm, he knows for sure that he won’t bother you

Instead, he gets you some things to hopefully help you sleep a little better, since it appears that you cried yourself to sleep right where you were

Placing a comforter on you and getting your head under some pillows was a small challenge, every single twitch had him pulling back instantly. He was successful in the end, sighing and silently congratulating his hard work

“We’ll be okay,” he can’t help but whisper, he only says it because he knows it’s true. You two will be fine, the argument was a small bump in the road. This is hopefully the first and last time you resort to sleeping apart from him willingly

He flicked all of the lights off, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead and making sure you were content before making his way to his own bed

#skz fluff #skz headcannons #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin x reader #skz x reader #skz comfort

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