#and it would Kill me if i hurt her. it would physically make me sick

[lightnersdream]

im actually in the middle of having another freakout over not remembering if Dandelion got here with a damaged eye or not

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 12

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Burns, Discussion of suicidal thoughts (If this triggers you, PLEASE don't read it), Discussion of very "human" ideas of modesty, and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

“I can hear your fucking thoughts, even though I am not a daemati, so talk to me, Az,” Cassian grumbled.

Azriel turned his head, ceasing to stare at the ceiling as he had been doing for hours.

He couldn't get Eira's words out of his head. He hated the images her words had conjured up in his head — his sweet mate sitting in her bathing chamber, rocking back and forth, holding herself as tight as she could, trying to block everything out.

His mate, who had wanted to die.

The very thought was enough to make him want to break something, to find something to punch and claw at until his knuckles bled and his skin lay in tattered scraps. Until his rage and agony burned the images out of his mind, until he wasn't so sick to his stomach that he was half-convinced he was going to physically get ill.

"Stop thinking," Cassian said, still watching him with a grim expression that mirrored his own thoughts.

Azriel didn't bother answering him. Right now, he didn't even want to be here in this room. He didn't want to lie on this bed, staring at the ceiling, when he could be with his Eira.

His sweet, sweet mate, who would have hurled herself off a balcony or cut off her ears because it had all just...been too much.

Even the mere thought made his stomach lurch as if he was going to be sick. Gods, she had wanted to die, and he hadn't noticed. He hadn't known.

He had walked around, blissfully oblivious, thinking that she was better, that she was settling into life here as a High Fae, when she…

She hadn't told him, she hadn't said a damn thing, and he should have known from the start, should've known that she wasn't okay.

He should have paid more attention, should've pushed harder when she seemed upset, and instead, he'd just...he had just left her to struggle on her own when he should have...he should have...

She hadn't told him, she hadn't said a damn thing, and he should have known from the start, should've known that she wasn't okay.

“Talk to me, Az. Please."

He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from thinking, and he could still see her, sitting in her bathing chamber, rocking back and forth, humming so she wouldn't have to listen, and he didn't even know for how long she had been doing that right under his nose, how much pain she had been in and how he had just let her...

"I should have known," he said quietly, the confession almost ripped out of him.

Cassian just listened.

"She's my mate. I should have known how she was feeling."

Cassian didn't say anything this time. He just watched him silently for a moment, the concerned look on his face still there.

"And how were you supposed to know?" he said finally. "If she didn't want you to know? If she didn't want to tell you?" Cassian sighed. "I didn't know how bad Nesta was feeling either. Is this about her sparks show when Eira talked to Elain?" he asked her.

Azriel grimaced.

"No," he said firmly. "I just...I couldn't get Eira's comment about stuffing cotton wool into her ears out of my brain. So I asked her," he admitted quietly. "She was...she was doing really badly for a bit," he admitted weakly. It was an understatement.

She had almost hurt herself, had wanted to kill herself instead of dealing with all of this, and he should have known. He should have-

"How can I have been so blind and stupid?" he grumbled more quietly.

"You're not stupid," Cassian retorted instantly. "And you're certainly not blind."

Azriel let out a scoff.

"Then how did I not notice?" he demanded. "How did I not notice that my own mate was...?"

"You're not stupid," Cassian said.

"Yes I am," Azriel snapped back. "I am stupid and a bastard, for not noticing, for not seeing how she felt," he said angrily.

Cassian let out a sharp huff at his words, watching him with an almost frustrated expression.

"None of us saw," Cassian snapped.

The door opened.

"I can hear you arguing," Rhys grumbled as he made his way across the room and flopped down on the bed.

"What's with Feyre?" Cassian asked with some bemusement.

"Feyre decided she would rather have a sleepover with Nesta and Eira," Rhys said with a long-suffering sigh.

Azriel couldn't help the brief hint of a smile at Rhys's words.

"Are you upset that she deserted you?" he asked dryly.

Rhys shot him a weak glare at his words. "I would like my mate to sleep in my bed, yes," he grumbled.

"You sound like a lovesick whelp," Cassian commented, and Rhys muttered something in response, that sounded strangely like oh, like you are any better.

Azriel made a low scoffing sound, a faint, but genuine smile touching his lips.

It vanished again a moment later, as the thoughts about Eira came rushing back.

"I don't understand how I didn't see," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. "I am such an idiot."

He could feel their gazes turning towards him again, but he didn't bother looking up, still staring at the ceiling, as he clenched his fist around the now-crumpled bedsheets.

"I just...I should have known," he said again. "We are mates. How could I have been so damn blind?"

"How could I have been so blind either?" Cassian asked. "Neither of Feyre, nor Nesta, nor Eira like to burden other people with their problems. Neither of us are mind readers...well other than Rhys."

Rhys let out a low scoff but didn't disagree.

Cassian had a point, but that didn't make Azriel feel any better.

"I still feel like a bastard for not seeing," he muttered.

It was his job to observe. It was literally his entire shtick. How could he not have seen that his own mate was suffering.

"Is it about the cotton wool comment?" Rhys asked quietly.

Azriel let out another huff, this time out of annoyance.

"Yes, it's about the damn cotton wool," he said harshly. "I just can't get the image out of my head. My mate, sitting in her bathing chamber, holding herself like a damn child while she rocks back and forth, listening to herself hum and trying to block everything out."

"She was pulling on her ears at the same time," Rhys said, his voice dark. "I saw a piece of it when I...accidentally went into her mind. She pulled at her ears because they were too long and too pointy and not hers. And then she bit her mouth bloody. It was... bad."

Azriel grimaced at those words, that image conjured up again, in even more detail this time.

He still couldn't quite get a grip on what he was feeling, with each moment that passed. He felt sick to his stomach, enraged, like he wanted to find something to punch, wanted to rip apart with his bare hands. He felt helpless and useless, like he had failed his mate, failed to protect her.

"She said she wanted to throw herself off a goddamn balcony," he said quietly. 

Rhys grimaced, and even Cassian's expression darkened.

"She was that bad..." he said quietly. "...How did...how did we not notice?"

"Because she didn't want us to notice," Cassian pointed out.

"I should've still noticed," Azriel snapped back. "I could have...I should have known that she was struggling."

There was a long moment of absolute silence, all of them just staring at the ceiling, probably running through the same thoughts as he did.

Then Rhys let out a sigh, closing his eyes as he spoke.

"How are we so damn incompetent sometimes?"

"Beats the hell out of me," Cassian said. "All three of us are supposed to be at least halfway competent, and you know, not total assholes. We should have known. We should have picked up the goddamn clues."

"And we didn't," Azriel said, his words coming out as a low growl that was almost lost in his chest. "And instead of...of helping her, of being there, she...she dealt with it all on her own, and we just stood around, blundering about like idiots."

His words were met with another moment of silence before Cassian let out a long sigh. "She is alright now, though, right?" he pointed out.

"She's not having thoughts of throwing herself off a damn balcony or cutting her ears off anymore," Azriel said gruffly. "So things have improved at least somewhat. Which I am very, very thankful for."

"So we know that at least," Rhys grumbled. "She's not having those thoughts anymore, at least not right now...although I certainly don’t like that it took her wanting to cut her ears off or throw herself off a balcony to get to this point."

Azriel let out another huff of annoyance.

"I just..." he began and took a deep breath. "It shouldn't have had to get so bad to begin with. We should have seen her struggling, damn it."

"Which we didn't," Cassian said again.

Another moment of silence, where they just laid around the bed, all of them staring at the ceiling, their thoughts going in the same circles. Azriel didn't know if it was a comfort, knowing that the others were feeling almost the same thing he was feeling, or if it was just making everything even worse, the knowledge that there were three of them — three strong, powerful males — and they had still all been so damn blind.

"How's your hand?" Rhys asked him suddenly

Azriel blinked.

"My hand?" he repeated dully, "It's fine," he grumbled. "I don't even feel it. Eira feels horrible though."

"Of course she does," Rhys agreed. "First her powers manifested and burnt a couple of Darkbringers to a crisp...and now her powers hurt you. Her mate." Rhys sighed. "I wish she would see the lightning as something beautiful and not something she must be afraid of," he muttered.

"She will," Azriel said firmly. "One day. She just...she just needs time. It's all still so fresh to her."

He had the feeling it was going to be a very long time before his mate would fully accept her own powers. "She needs to get used to them," he said quietly. "She needs to get used to the fact that she has powers to begin with. Just the idea...it's a lot for her."

"Understatement," Cassian grumbled under his breath. "Especially when you spent 3 years being treated like you were utterly useless like we did."

Azriel winced internally at the words.

It was their fault. They had done that.

The silence that fell after that statement was so deafening, that Azriel swore he could hear it.

They had done that. Eira's self-worth...or lack thereof, her feelings of uselessness and weakness...it was all their fault. And knowing that...knowing how damn useless and shitty they had been, knowing everything his mate had gone through, knowing just how much Eira had struggled, all while they had just blundered about like total idiots, it was a hard pill to swallow.

"How are you feeling about Elain now?" Cassian wondered.

Azriel stiffened slightly at the question.

He...he didn't really know.

Part of him wanted to strangle her, because of everything she had said, everything she had said about his mate. 

"I think the worst part...the worst part is the betrayal of it," Azriel said quietly. "She did it to get revenge. Because I turned her down."

Cassian grumbled under his breath at that, and Rhys let out a low scoff of agreement.

"She basically just hurt your mate as revenge for you turning her down," Cassian said, disgust clear in his voice.

Rhys grimaced. "I am sorry, Az," he apologised and Azriel knew why he apologised. Because without Rhys’ order, he wouldn't have stopped....he would have kept pursuing Elain.

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, forcing a deep breath into his lungs, and trying to push down the anger that rose up at the memory.

"It's not your fault, though," he said quietly. "It's Elain's." That...that was a hard truth.

It was not Rhys's fault. He had no way of knowing this would happen.

All the blame lay with Elain.

"Elain's and her alone," Azriel said, and let out a long, slow breath.

It didn't make him hate Elain any less, though, that was for damn sure.

"I can tell how furious you are," Rhys said dryly, and Azriel let out a low snort.

"That obvious?" he grumbled.

"Oh, you're not exactly subtle," Rhys said dryly. "You're practically grinding your teeth."

"I feel like grinding Elain's face into the floor too," Azriel said lowly and very, very darkly. "And I don't even think that will make me feel any better."

"Let's talk about something nicer," Cassian said quickly. "How's that courting going?"

Azriel blinked at the change in topic, Cassian's question taking a couple of seconds to register.

"Uh...fine," he said after a moment. "Good."

He tried to think about their walks in Velaris, about picnics in the back garden…and not about the image of his mate sitting rocking back and forth in her bathing chamber, pulling at her new, pointed ears and biting her own mouth bloody.

"You sound certain," Cassian teased him and he rolled his eyes.

"I am pretty sure I keep messing it all up because if we actually were human we wouldn't even be allowed in the same room as each other without a chaperone," he said drily. Alone the thought about marrying another person, of spending the rest of his life with them, when he didn’t even have a private conversation with them once…was utterly foreign to him. 

But then, maybe it shouldn’t be. Some Illyrian customs were not any better at all. Just more violent. 

Rhys let out a low chuckle before he said amused.

“I am sure you made up for that with the sheer amount of birthday presents you gave her,” Rhys quipped with some amusement. 

"That were the shadows," he protested weakly.

She deserved them, the shadows said evenly, not bothering to defend themselves. And the next thing you need to do is find a House and a Ring, Master.

Azriel choked on his own spit.

"What was that, Shadowsinger?" Rhys asked dryly, and Azriel grimaced.

"Nothing," he said quickly and tried to keep his face a neutral as possible. "My shadows are just chatting, that's all."

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a long look before Rhys spoke again. "Your shadows are 'chatting' about what, exactly?" Rhys asked, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly now.

Azriel cursed silently under his breath.

"About nothing important," he lied and tried to sound as relaxed as possible, all the while silently praying to any God listening, that Cassian or Rhys would drop it.

They didn’t. 

They just looked expectantly at him. 

Azriel cursed silently under his breath.

"A House and a Ring," he grumbled. He could hear some of the shadows laughing.

Another long, dead silence fell, and Azriel squeezed his eyes shut again, knowing all too well that his friends were about to make fun of him ruthlessly.

"A House and a ring," Rhys repeated faintly.

Cassian let out a snort of laughter.

"Oh, shut up," Azriel grumbled, refusing to open his eyes again, knowing he would probably see Rhys and Cassian rolling around on the bed with laughter.

"Oh, no, we will absolutely not shut up," Rhys said, and Azriel could hear the smile in his voice. "Because you're thinking of marriage already, aren't you?"

"The books said that 6 months from courtship to a wedding was not unusual," Azriel defended himself.

That earned another loud burst of laughter from Cassian, and Rhys took in a deep breath before he replied, his voice still filled with stifled laughter.

"Oh, yes, six months sounds completely reasonable," Rhys promised him earnestly. 

There was another long moment of silence, where Azriel could feel the smirk on Rhys's face without even opening his eyes before Rhys spoke again. "But you are aware that you need to actually propose first, right?"

"Apparently I need the house for that," Azriel said drily. "I am supposed to show that I can provide a place where we can live after the wedding."

"Yes, of course," Rhys said, the very picture of false agreement. "How could I ever suggest otherwise?”

Despite his best efforts, Azriel couldn't hold back a low growl at the amusement in Rhys's voice. Cassian just laughed.

"I need to admit though, humans do it very...interestingly. They apparently don't even have a private conversation for 6 months before, before they ask the female to marry them and then immediately share a bed for the first time." Rhys said with a snort. "Though I guess it's not much different than what Keir wanted to do to Mor."

Another growl tore itself out of Azriel's throat at that reminder.

"Don't," he ground out, "don't even mention that old bastard's name in my presence," he warned, anger bubbling up inside him at the memory of what Keir had done. Not even to just Mor, but to Eira as well. 

"Though there is one thing you need to think about," Cassian said drily. "Everything Eira was taught about relationships and sex was the human way."

That managed to make Azriel go still all over, an uncomfortable sensation spreading through his entire chest, while a dark, cold feeling settled in his stomach.

And to make things even worse, Rhys continued with the same dry and far, far too gleeful tone, "Meaning that she willlikely expect you to wait for marriage."

He swallowed. "Then we wait," he said sharply. "I am not going to force her."

"No, of course you won't," Cassian said, suddenly a lot more serious. "We know you would never do that. But Eira probably has some...ideas of how a marriage would work. She seems to be the one of her sisters that still…clings to that the most. She was raised to be a wife, Azriel. She’ll think that your word is law.”

Despite still keeping his eyes closed, Azriel winced at those words. He had already thought about that. He had thought of that fact very heavily.

It was reminding him far too much of Illyria for his peace of mind, to be honest. The idea that he has a male was supposed to have any kind of power over his wife, that she was chattel for him to rule over…It was making him nauseous. 

He...he didn't like it at all. Eira thought that he would demand things from her...order her into things... but the idea made him want to punch something.

"Well, she won't think that," Rhys suddenly said, his voice sounding a lot more serious than before.

Azriel slowly opened his eyes at that and glanced at his friend, only to find Rhys's expression had hardened and was looking more...determined than amused.

"She will quickly learn that you will never order her to do anything," Rhys said firmly, and Cassian nodded in agreement.

Azriel just stared for a moment, his chest feeling a lot looser than before and his heart suddenly beating a lot faster.

Cassian and Rhys...they believed it wholeheartedly.

They didn't even doubt one second that he would never demand anything from his mate, from his sweet, gentle, quiet mate, who had been raised to listen and obey.

"You're our brother," Cassian said then, and Azriel's eyes suddenly shot to him. "We've known you for five centuries, and we know that you would rather cut off your own wings than demand anything of Eira."

Rhys nodded.

"We don't doubt for a second that you would never, ever, order her to do anything,"

A wave of gratefulness and grateful love for his brothers washed over Azriel all at once.

They understood.

They knew him. Knew that he would never order his mate to do a damn thing. Knew that the very idea of ordering her was more than enough to make him feel physically ill.

"So about that house..."

Azriel let out a huff at that question.

"I'm working on it," he said but was cut off by another snigger from Cassian.

***

"Scoot over," Feyre demanded in a whisper as she crawled into the bed next to her.

"I thought you would stay with Rhys?" Eira asked, but did as her youngest sister requested, careful not to bother a sleeping Nesta.

There was still light in the room, courtesy of the faelight, neither of them felt comfortable in a pitch-black room since the cauldron.

Feyre just grumbled something unintelligible under her breath at that as she settled in next to her sister, pressing up against Eira.

Eira smiled a little and shuffled on the bed, gently wrapping her arms around Feyre when the latter snuggled close, burying her face against her neck.

"Nyx seems to think that Ra Ra gives the best cuddles. I need some of those," she said, making Eira giggle. 

"Of course he does," Eira said, pulling her sister even closer. "Ra Ra is an excellent cuddler."

Feyre bit back the laughter so as not to wake Nesta and caught Eira's hand in hers. "How are you feeling?"

Eira just hummed, trying to figure out the best way to answer that question and finding it far more complicated than it should be.

"I feel...." she started, letting out a long breath as she thought about it. "I feel...I feel better. Still hurt. I don't think that will go away any time soon...but...better."

Feyre nodded slowly as if she had expected the answer.

"I can understand that," Feyre said, playing with her hand and then froze. "Eira, did you make a bargain?"

Eira blinked at the question, a pit opening in her stomach.

"A...a bargain?" she echoed numbly, and Feyre raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes. A bargain," Feyre said, and tugged her hand up, so Eira could see Right there wrapped around the ring finger of her left hand, right where a wedding ring would sit, was a thin black band. Just that it wasn't a band. It was a bargain marking.

Eira stared at it numbly, and for a second, she just stared at it, feeling like she couldn't get any air into her lungs.

The bargain marking was wrapped around her finger, and the only person it could have come from was...

Azriel.

Her mate. That...that was her mate's bargain marking wrapped around her finger.

"Eira...?"

Some part of her was suddenly very glad that Feyre was there with her, because her sister's voice was the only thing that was keeping her at all grounded, and it took several long, shaky, breaths before she could force words out of her suddenly very tight throat.

"Y-yes, I...I made a b-bargain," Eira whispered.

"Accidentally, wasn't it?" Nesta said suddenly turning around. "You two can never manage to be quiet," she mumbled with a yawn. "What are the terms?"

"Yes, accidentally," Eira admitted, and Nesta nodded.

"Thought so," she said dryly, her voice only slightly slurred with sleep. "And the terms?"

Eira swallowed again.

"That I would come to him if I...whenever I have a bad day. The same goes for him."

That seemed to get the attention of both of her younger sisters, Feyre tensing against her and even Nesta's eyes grew a little wider.

"That's...a very loose bargain," Feyre said slowly, and Eira nodded.

"It...it was," she said, "It wasn't on purpose. It was just...just a promise."

"What exactly does it mean when you have a bad day?" Nesta asked her evenly.

Eira opened her mouth to answer but suddenly found that she really, really didn’t want to tell her sisters about the complete breakdown she had had earlier.

"Just.." she mumbled after a moment. "Bad."

Nesta's gaze sharpened.

"What does that mean, bad?" she demanded, the tone leaving no room for arguing.

Eira swallowed again, the fear of the consequences if she told her sisters suddenly growing inside of her.

"T-tired. Like everything is too much." she said, her voice breaking just a little bit as the memory of how much she had cried suddenly crashed down on her, "Or-or I...remember things. Like...like the war," she managed. "And I...I don't feel good. I feel...I feel like I did...after the cauldron. Everything is overwhelming. Everything hurts. I just want it all to stop."

Feyre's arms tightened around her, and Nesta's eyes grew very, very sharp.

"Do you...do you ever...try to hurt yourself?" Nesta asked softly, not quite managing to keep the concern out of her voice.

Eira's eyes widened at that, and she swallowed, shaking her head violently.

"Not...Not anymore," she whispered.

The concern in Nesta's eyes only grew, and she let out a small, shaky breath. "But you...you did?" she asked softly.

Eira just nodded silently, her voice having gone too weak to even speak.  "Afte the cauldron...I...used to...sometimes I bit my mouth bloody. Not on purpose!" she assured her sisters. "I just...If I didn't, I was going to be too loud. And I pulled on my hair and my ears but it wasn't..."

A long, long moment of heavy, tension-filled silence fell as Eira spoke, and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying again.

Until Feyre suddenly spoke again, her voice very, very low and very angry.

"How often? How often are your bad days?"

"Not...not often," Eira mumbled, closing her eyes again, because she could literally feel the anger emanating off of Feyre, her normally gentle sister holding onto her tight with a grip that bordered on pain. "And it's really not that bad," she tried to assure them both. "Really. I...I..It's gotten better. The shadows keep me company now when I have nightmares and then it's not..."

"How. Often?" Feyre demanded, her tone leaving no room for arguing. Eira had never, ever, heard her sister use that tone of voice.

"I don't know," she whispered, the words falling out of her mouth seemingly on their own. "A couple of times a month? It used to be more. After the war, it was nearly every day."

A sharp, sharp intake of breath came from Feyre, who pressed closer to her as if trying to keep her from disappearing.

"You...You never told us," Feyre breathed out, and it was clear how hard it was for her not to just...break down and cry.  "Why...why didn't you come to us?" Feyre questioned gently, and Eira closed her eyes, feeling herself tearing up at the broken tone in Feyre's voice.

And that...that just made it worse. Her sisters...they were her sisters. She was supposed to tell them when things were bad when she had a bad day. She was supposed to tell them.

"I...I didn't want to worry you," she whispered, and Feyre let out a shaky breath.

"It's our job to worry about you, you idiot," Feyre whispered, pulling her closer and wrapping her arms around her tightly. "You're supposed to tell us," Feyre muttered against her shoulder. "You're supposed to come and find us and we're supposed to hug you and comfort you."

A soft huff came from Nesta, and suddenly one of her hands gently stroked over her hair.

"Next time you have a bad day," Nesta said, tone leaving no room for arguing, "You tell us. Do you understand?"

"I am pretty sure I am supposed to tell Azriel," she protested weakly.

"You can tell him along with us," Feyre said firmly, gently tugging on her hair. "No keeping secrets from your family."

"Absolutely no keeping secrets from us," Nesta agreed. "If we find out you've had a bad day and haven't told us, I'll drag you to training with me."

Eira huffed out a weak chuckle at that because that was a very real threat if Nesta said it. There was no doubt in her mind that her sister would actually make her train with her until she dropped.

"You didn't come to us either," she told Nesta weakly.

"It doesn't matter," Nesta simply said, and her lips tugged into a small smile. "We're changing that now."

"We are," Feyre agreed, and her arms tightened around Eira again. "No more shutting us out. We're sisters. We deal with things together."

Eira let out a shaky breath, and a couple of tears fell down her cheeks as both Feyre and Nesta drew their bodies closer, enveloping her in their arms.

For a long, long moment, the three of them just lay there, soaking in each other's presence and Eira felt herself feeling...safe. Safe and loved.

"There better not be any more secrets," Feyre whispered after they had just laid there for a while, and Eira huffed out a small, dry chuckle.

"I don't have any more secrets," she mumbled, and Nesta let out a low scoff.

"Liar," Nesta told her, but there was no heat behind her words.

"I don't," Eira protested and felt Feyre's hands tighten around her.

"Don't worry," Feyre whispered soothingly, "if you don't have any now, you'll probably have more later," she said with a small smirk, and Eira groaned.

"That's not reassuring," she muttered, making Feyre laugh.

"Ah, but I imagine you'll have some secrets with Azriel eventually," Nesta teased her.

Eira's mouth dropped open at that, and her eyes went wide as a blush started up her cheeks. "I-I- you-"

Feyre snickered but was immediately interrupted by Nesta, who continued to speak, her tone as dry as a desert.

"Please, I don't need to a Seer to know that you two will be hiding quite a few things from us eventually," she said, and Eira suddenly wanted to bury her face against a pillow and die.

"Nesta," Eira protested weakly, but her sister just continued, and this time Feyre had clearly lost the fight against not laughing at her.

"Probably quite a few things at night," Nesta mused, and a strangled squeak came from Eira's mouth as Feyre cackled and her blush turned hotter.

"Can we...can we not...talk about this?" Eira protested, shoving her flushed face into a pillow. "Please?" she mumbled against it.

"Oh, come on," Feyre protested, "Don’t be such a prude about it! It's completely normal!"

Between a married couple! Not between…Not in a courtship!

Not…

"And I won't have my sister have anything but exceptional treatment from a male," Feyre said with a twinkling in her eyes.

“I-I-" Eiran tried to say something at that but found that her tongue had completely failed her. Exceptional treatment from a male...that was...what even meant that?

She hid her flaming face into the pillow again.

"Is he a good kisser?" Nesta asked, sounding curious. "Have you kissed?"

"I'm not answering that," Eira said firmly, her voice sounding very muffled as she kept her face pressed against the pillow. Feyre let out a soft snort.

"Oh, she's definitely kissed him," she said with a snicker as Eira made another protesting sound against the pillow.

"Has it been multiple times?" Nesta inquired, the words sending a jolt of something down Eira's spine, and Feyre let out another snicker.

"At least two," Feyre told her.

Eira made another strangled sound into the pillow because her sisters were not having this conversation. She was not having this conversation. This couldn't be happening.

“And have you done anything else?” Feyre asked her, her voice sounding amused, and Eira's head jerked up from the pillow almost comically fast.

"W-what?! N-no, of course not," she sputtered, her eyes wide and the blush on her cheeks very, very red.

"We aren't in the human lands," Feyre said with a shrug. "If two want more...well, then that's something that's between the two of you."

Maybe that was like it was in Prythian...but it wasn't ...it wasn't what Eira had...what Eira had...She had always been....she had always...Some things belonged in the marriage bed.

Some things were supposed to be between a wife and her husband. 

"We-" Eira protested, sputtering for words again and trying to say something, anything, to distract them from the path this conversation was going, but found her brain entirely empty.

She had been taught...

"I...I-" she tried again, but her tongue would not make it past the lump forming in her throat. There were rules. There were rules for this.

"We aren't married," she whispered. They weren't married.

Those words went through her like thunder, making her swallow heavily. If they hadn't been married...well it meant that...it meant that everything that she had been taught growing up was...

That they were...they were allowed to...to do more than...

A shudder went through her at the implications of that realization, and Feyre's eyes were on her carefully, quietly studying her expression.

She had always been taught...she had been taught that everything that could be done with a man belonged in the marriage bed. That it was...impure to...to want to do such things.

"You don't have to do anything," Feyre told her quickly. "Azriel would never force you, you know that, right?"

"Yeah," Eira mumbled, and it came out more weakly than she would have liked. Because she did know that. She knew that, logically.

But a small part of her...a small part of her that had grown up being taught these things was...was terrified.

"What are you worried about?" Nesta asked her suddenly, and Eira's head jerked to her.

"W-what?" she stuttered again, and Nesta raised an eyebrow at her. "You clearly have something on your mind," she said evenly. "Something that has you terrified. What are you worried about?"

"I...I..." Eira mumbled, and her face burned red again. There was no way in hell she was telling them that. "It's nothing," she mumbled, but neither of her sisters looked convinced.

"Liar," Nesta said bluntly, and Eira flinched.

"That's not true, I'm-" she protested weakly, but her voice cut out when Nesta frowned at her. Oh, Gods "I'm...I'm just...worried that....I want...I don't-...What if he doesn't want me like that?" she suddenly stuttered and pressed her face again into the pillow.

There was a beat of stunned silence after she spoke, and suddenly Feyre snorted.

"Oh, you have no idea how much that male wants you," she said, a wicked grin on her lips.

"He would kill to have you," Nesta agreed, and Eira could practically hear the smirk in her voice "But only when you're ready, of course"

[theyluvlyss]

𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 & 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲...

my head is all but consumed with thoughts only of wade wilson, logan howlett, and remy lebeau. they're all I can process in my head (besides shazam, but that's a given considering no one loves shazam the way I do, so🤷🏽‍♀️) and I y e a r n desperately for an influx in "wade x y/n x logan" fics and the "remy x y/n" fics... dare I even ask, humbly ofc, hear me out... for a splash of "wade x y/n x remy". genuinely, I'd kill for some of that ngl.

and I bet you're wondering, "lyssa, why not do it yourself🤔?"

short answer: I am swamped with requests, and even if I wasn't, I'm not ready yet lmao I fear I do not possess the skills to capture them in my writing perfectly😔 ... yet😈.

in the meantime, tho *😈evil little laughter😈* may I plz suggest the following prompts and pairings to and for anybody willing to work with them or wanting ideas (begging any writers that see this to please write these and tag me plz plz plz plz plz 😭🙏🏽😃plzplzplzplzplzplzplzpl-)...

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⚠️trigger and content warning btw lol -

mentions of fighting/violence/bloodshed, death, gore, (like c'mon,,, bffr, look at who you're reading about😐🤨), anxiety/panic attacks, harsh words/themes/elements/physical injuries, abuse and/or negelct, separation anxiety, mental disorders, brief mention of sickness/illness, drugs (just 🍃 and painkillers), age gap (nothing illegal, chill out🤨✋🏽), use of a derogatory term (not used in a negative sense tho lol), and some semi-common smut themes that I won't list here, but be wary if that stuff makes you uncomfortable :)♡. also, these are all under the pretense that the reader is a cis girl, she/her/hers pronouns (so ig you could think of this as one, big, mass request to all writers willing from me lol🤭🥴🫶🏽).

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭/𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 :

- reader having a panic/anxiety attack and ofc being comforted (causes my vary; maybe right after a fight/battle, or because of over-worrying or too much pressure, maybe after a fight with another loved one, etcetc). definitely wanna see this with all three of them, but separately, tho. like, one fic or list of "preferences/headcannons" for logan, one for wade, and then one for remy.

- near death or death (followed by resurrection swift after). it could be reader almost dies or dies (then gets resurrected, get creative with it/how, fr, yk?) or the reverse; the POI (person of interest) dies, although given two of the three's abilities, y'all might have to get creative if you want it to translate for logan and/or wade so this one would be mainly for a remy x reader.

- I personally love a good "POI says sumn mean/outta pocket, hurts reader's feels, stuff happens idk, but they eventually kiss and make up" trope. I'd eat that up, especially cuz OHHH,,,, wade taking a joke or playful argument or something too far? logan being a little too mean/angsty to you for comfort?? remy saying something that gets lost in translation, so it comes out harsher than intended??? 😫😫😫‼️‼️ AND IF YOU WANNA GET MESSY WIT IT, RUNNING TO ONE OF THE OTHER THREE FOR COMFORT🙈🙈⁉️⁉️⁉️.

- a classic; reader getting injured (mildly or worse, doesn't matter), needing to be taken care of, but is stubborn about it?? always a good one.

- getting a little crazy and silly here, but I like a good "abusive and/or negelctful ex/current partner" trope. like hell yeah, one of you big, strong men get over here and save me, whisk me away and show me what I really deserve😻‼️. NOT romanticizing/glorifying it obvs, like no, I mean that wade, logan, and/or remy would not be the red flags in this scenario, they're the one(s) doing the saving FROM the red flag ex/current partner lol.

- getting a little crazier and sillier with this one, but one where reader gets snatched up🙂? oouuuu, miss girl got kidnapped?! once again, somebody come save me, and if "somebody" is not wade, logan, and/or remy, then don't bother, I don't want it. matter of fact, just gon' on ahead and leave me, I'll figure it out myself🙂✌🏽. I think I'd want these separate, actually, bc I wanna take in the individuality of their reactions, like,,, logan going feral?? pretty predictable tbh lmao but still hot. remy?? idek ngl, y'all gon' have to figure him out. BUT WADE BEING SERIOUS AND NOT AS TALKATIVE FOR ONCE UNTIL HE KNOWS YOU'RE SAFE???? OOOHOOHOOOOOOO, GIMMIE🖐🏽👹🖐🏽✊🏽👹✊🏽!!!

- ig this could be put in the panic/anxiety attack category, but I also feel like this might be it's own separate thing, so idk, but... separation anxiety on reader's part. whatever the circumstances may be to breed it, reader is just (not in a unhealthy way) attached to the POI(s), so them leaving for whatever reason is pretty hard on her (and the POI(s), too, because hello, they don't wanna make their reader upset, but things gotta get done fr yk😫🥲),,, lots of reassurance, comforting, and maybe distractions ensue??

- reader with an alter ego/inner beast, whether that be a result of her powers or a mental disorder (think like,,, split personality or maybe DID or something like that, but I do wanna say, if you're gonna go the mental route, make sure you do your research so that you're representing it - not only accurately - but you're not dehumanizing or dumbing it down as well) or just anything that would cause the reader to, as I said, have a different side of themself,,, werewolf type deal, yk? "normal" for the most part, but then has her moments where she be on demon time and then when she's back to herself, she's just like "???" while everyone else is like "!!!". I suppose this could then be followed up/solved with a "the sun's getting real low" typa thing/moment from the POI(s), but that's neither here nor there, do what feels right fr♡.

- reader (just barely) escapes cassandra nova??? that could be cool (a.k.a. very, very angsty bc surely the encounter has messed the reader alllll the way up both mentally and physically, especially knowing what typa timing cass be on lmao😃). love a good hurt/comfort, I can't get enough, actually. this one (given the movie context) may or may not work with wolvie and/or pool (again, up to the writer to get creative), but gambit?? he's been in the void his whole life, he knows cass, sooo it'd make more sense for him to have a higher understanding of the situation in full, but do what y'all want, I'm just the idea woman🤷🏽‍♀️.

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 :

- morning cuddles and softeness and ughghfhfhdjd♡!!♡!♡!!♡!♡!!♡!! and then the opposite, night/bedtime cuddles and softness and uugjfjdkwkfke♡!!♡!♡!!♡!♡!!♡!!

- height difference teasings and shenanigans. we can always stick to the classics, ofc, short reader, tall wade, logan, and/or remy. maybe its an advantage in fights - fast, lethal, and small + big, shielding, and strong - but sucks in more domestic/calm cases like reaching for shit on the top shelf or wanting to kiss somebody. but I'd also love some tall gworl reader type shit, miss strong, lean, runway model energy, stepping on any heads and wooing any men that are in her path🥴😻. bending down with a smile so she can hear him, mindlessly playing with his hair, occasionally makes a quip here and there on the difference without thinking lol and he haaaaateeees all of it (but he looooveeeessss all of it🤭).

- reader being THAT GIRL, literally being in a 1v26 or sumn crazy like that and she's just kicking ass and shit the whole time, and then there's the POI(s),,, gawking and in love like "damn that's MY GIRL fr\😻/!!".

- *imagine a vine boom after every bolded word, okay, go* teen/minor/young PLATONIC NONSEXUAL NONROMANTIC (literally I can not stress this enough) NOT DATING AT ALL EVER reader and one/two/all of them. I think it'd just be silly seeing them (wade, logan, and or remy) working/paired with/having a bond with this little gremlin yet sweetheart of a reader who's somehow able to tolerate/put up with/ignore/maybe even indulge in their craziness lmfao. maybe just as or is even more crazy than they are, chaotic and desensitized type shit. you could even get ansgty with it, have this teen reader need saving or something like that, yk?

- sparring match and reader BEATS POI(s) in said spar cuz she's cool, awesome, and mega baller like that. lots of tension and goofiness, especially from the reader, cuz she knows damn well she's the shit. or, a different route!!... total dumb luck that she beat him/both/all of them, and is very obviously playing it off/acting like she won on purpose lmfao, cockiness ensuing.

- can't go wrong with a sick-fic lol. who doesn't wanna be taken care of?

- reader needs/wears glasses🤷🏽‍♀️. it can be the discovery of actually needing them, reader always squinting tryna read/see shit, or nearly getting herself in and out of danger bc again, she blind lmao. or it's just the case of reader never wears them out and about, but in calmer moments (where she doesn't run the risk of breaking them) she'll put them on, so she decides to bust 'em out one day and it's just the POI(s) being like ":O...😻😻!!".

- *olivia rodrigo voice* JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY, YEAA-aAAH😫😫‼️ ... reader who just,,, she don't play that shit, man, lmfao it's called you can prove yourself either friend or foe,,, stay tf away from my man or get your ass beat. pick one. and it's the POI(s) just absolutely flattered and amused with this energy from reader lmfao, reassurance ensuing quick after ofc. or, if you wanna get silly with it (and by silly, I mean violent♡), reader with a girl who can't take a hint😀 *eye twitch* so she finally makes shit clear one way or another (one way; does sumn with the POI(s) that makes the girl uncomfortable so she fucks off. another; reader pretty much beats that girl up and it's the POI(s) laughing but also trying to pry reader off of her cuz "stop it, I'm yours, I promise, you don't have to kill her, she didn't know any better😭!"). or just completely switch it up, vice versa, role-reversal POI(s) get jelly and it's reader having to deal with whatever may happen after/due to the fact lol.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 :

- shameless flirt reader!!!! she's not obnoxious or out of character/proper timing with it, but definitely a reader with helllllaaaaa rizz. is mainly on some "is somebody gonna match my freak?" type shi. wade would find it very silly and he'd match the freak ofc. logan,,, maybe he'd start off annoyed by it, then get used to it, only realizing you've actually grown on him once you start to pull back a little/stop completely? REMY WOULD LOVE AND BE AMUSED BY IT, so all I'm gonna say here is this: rabbits🐇🥰. iykyk♡.

- a smoke sesh leading to some good, old fashioned high/sleepy sex🥰. that's it, that's the prompt♡.

- lord, free me from my sins🙏🏽, plz don't judge me y'all😔 ,,, age gap😃? NOTHING CRAZY, CHILL, but yk, like,,, just a little young thing in her 20s or sumn being scooped up by one (or two🤭) of these older, more mature, aged like fine wine, and experienced men,,, that's all🥰.

- that moment when reader is a whore and is actually literally prancing around without a care in the world, fucking three different guys (wade, logan, and remy obvs) because "they're hot lol" - not necessarily behind their backs - but no one's saying anything or telling her no, nor does anyone seem to have any issues with it/are opposed, sooo😗🤷🏽‍♀️.

- do y'all think,,, because wolverine is yk...wolf-like-ish-whatever.... do y'all think that he,,,, that maybe he goes thru... a rut🙂?? lmfaoGDHAKXKPQPRR okay that's enough, that's enough🥴✋🏽-.

- you know how some smut has certain labels/themes/tags that are gonna be, yk,,, in said smut?? well, cuz I'm out of any specific ideas for smut, I'm just gonna leave some here, m'kaaaay, and whatever y'all wanna dooooo is up to youuuu, just as long as I get to seeee😗☺️🫶🏽~...

⚠️ also don't say I didn't warn y'all, I mean, there's literally a whole ass trigger warning at the top, so do not start fckn trippin' because you disagree with me or saw sumn you don't fw, cuz tbh, I don't care and you can honestly block me if it's that serious♡.

dom-sub, daddy/praise/breeding/spanking kink, knife/gun/blood play (and/or just mutant/power ability play in general hehehe), food/wax play, cnc (I don't suggest full blown non-con seeing as none of them seem the type to do such, no matter the circumstances, plus it's just not my thing personally but hey, I'm not currently writing for pool, wolvie, or gambit rn, so that's up to whoever is🤷🏽‍♀️), hunter-prey (y'all might see this and immediately think wolvie, which is understandable fr, but I beg y'all to get creative and let remy and/or wade hunt reader down, it can be done and done right, I promise, plz, I need it, 😫PLEASE!!-), friends with benefits,,, OHHH ENEMIES with benefits🫢🫢!!, overstim, jealousy/possessive/yandere, unprotected/creampie/oral ... that's all that comes to mind lmao wow what a crazy note to end this on, anyways-

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yeah, so, do with all of this what you will (and plz spread this around, I genuinely do wanna see these get written and myself tagged like I am PINING for these fic ideas to be turned into reality😭🙏🏽), I just had to get my thoughts out before I forgot (at least in the fanfic department), because if someone were to ask me my thoughts on the movie itself !!!!! OMG I could run my mouth forever, but I don't wanna do that (lazy) so lmao for now, that's all lol byeeee~ /ᐠ-˕-マ!!

[rockscanfly]

Random Charles Smith Headcanon's

Has probably contemplated suicide at more than one point (see “I’m here just to hurt and suffer myself. In this land I feel stuck.”)

Maybe a little vain. He cares for his clothing well, embellishes himself. 

Has auditory sensitivity. He gets very irritable with loud people.

Has never felt like he belonged, always feels cut off

Is comfortable with violence only against folk he sees as on his own level/like himself. Has little empathy for himself so has little empathy for them (hence smoking while Arthur beats a man for information, the efficient and quick kills of the bounty hunter, the poachers)

Has a STRONG sense of justice--that includes responsibility and culpability. People make choices and Charles holds them accountable for them. Sadie is a killer, so he treats her like any other ally. That German family didn’t make that choice, neither did the Wapiti. But he doesn’t have any pity for the gang.

Animals don't choose violence, hence the protectiveness over them and their dignity. 

Comes off as cold because he isn’t loud/not good at chat. He’s really just been alone most of his life. 

Okay with drinking, does NOT like drunkenness. Back to culpability. This can make him unforgiving and harsh at times.

Both he and Arthur are so used to people passing in and out of their lives that they’re afraid to hold on too tight. Then Arthur gets captured by Colm. Hosea talks to him, about Bessie and about Arthur’s dead family. 

“I’m not her,” Charles says. “Not either of them. I’m not asking you to leave your world behind, and I’m not going to wait for you in some house. We’re partners first. I’d lose the rest of it before I let you put me to the side.” 

He likes that Arthur is big enough to push him around, to hold him down and anchor him when he can feel himself getting lost. To toss him over a broad shoulder when they’re swimming around on a hunting trip and settle him down on soft pelts, to pin him and bite the lonely from his skin. 

Charles can kick Arthur’s ass and will do so on request

He’s kind and thoughtful. He’d be the one to make Arthur little presents and leave them around for him. Practical things, made special with the careful workmanship of beading/embroidery/etching. 

Can be impatient—autonomy is his norm so waiting on others both physically, mentally, and emotionally doesn’t come natural to him

Will cut slingload on people he feels don’t value him back—would not pine for Arthur or stick around if Arthur tries to protect himself by lashing out at Charles, even if he still has feelings. His father taught him that he has to protect himself because no one else will do it. Arthur. Well. Arthur’s the only person he’s trusted to have his back. Because Arthur proved it, several times over. There’s no one Charles would have used “do it for me” on other than Arthur Morgan. 

He fell into fighting again because he had begun opening his heart for the first time since he was a child, and then fate took Arthur too. Like Charles said—he was put on the earth to cause pain and to suffer himself. 

He tries to help folks, but he’s not good at talking and he can’t use his privilege to help like Arthur did. He’s everything the US government hates, even more than the Waipiti. They reach a point where his violence is no longer useful. And for a drowning, grieving, heart sick stretch of years violence is all Charles has left to him (hence going to Saint Denis, a city he hates, and fighting people for white folks' entertainment in a transparent suicide-by-cop bid for someone to end his suffering) And then Sadie gives him the option of closure and working beside John reminds him that he is a man, not a weapon, and Beecher’s Hope makes him believe he too can change. 

Charles has never tried to be anything but who he is. He and Arthur are similar in that way. What he realizes, what Arthur realized too late, is that he can change if he wants it. And that maybe he’s allowed his past pain and scars to run his life along a course he doesn’t actually have to follow. 

Brought to you by my on-going replay of RDR2 and my undying love and devotion to princess of my heart Charles Smith.

[1d1195]

Most II

Read Most here | ~8.6k words (whoops)

From me: So I was worried I wasn't going to have enough for this part. Especially from our MC's POV. I started with Harry first and then I wrote her POV and I think this got a little out of hand as I always manage to do--but hopefully you'll see what I was aiming for.

Warnings: angsty af, some fluff too; my hope is you'll cry when you least expect it

Summary: Leaving nearly killed her; but if Harry was happy, it would be worth it. Harry thought he would never get out of bed ever again after she left. But he did. He's really glad he did, too.

*Three years later*

“Thank you, Harry!”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Peterson. Same time next week?” He winked. The woman was older, in her sixties, she smiled politely at Harry and waved from her doorway. It seemed Mrs. Peterson constantly had issues with her alarms and being that she was older and away from family, Harry was happy to help her.

It helped that he lived next door to her as well. A tiny little house, two bedrooms, one bathroom. But it had a nice yard and Harry thought that maybe in the future there would be a flower garden and maybe one day there would be two kids who would find a bird’s nest among the flowers. But more than likely if they had two kids they would need a bigger house, a new yard, with a different garden.

The first year was the worst.

It felt like she died. The grief was so overwhelming it was hard for him to get out of bed. His mum even said things like, “Harry, she wouldn’t want this,” and “honey bunny, you have to keep living,” and Harry was mean about it. He was grumpy, sour. He told his mum it wasn’t living if she wasn’t around. He was sure he sounded like a lovelorn teen who knew nothing about love and life, but he did. Because she was the love of his life; and she was gone.

Gemma was better at getting him out of bed. Mostly because she physically dragged him out, but he was up and out all the same. She took him to get lunch and made sure he attended his classes. She watched him mope and live this half existence. Gemma wanted to hate her. She really did. But she couldn’t. As connected as she and Harry were, it felt like Gemma had a connection with her as well—maybe it was only by proxy of her brother, but she felt it.

“I think she’ll be back,” Gemma had taken Harry to the park for fresh air. They watched people run through, dogs chase after squirrels, and kids swinging at the playground. Life kept moving even if Harry felt like he was at a standstill.

“Gem,” he sighed. His eyes were tired, devoid of tears any longer. “I don’t want...”

“What? To hope?” He didn’t answer her, kicked at the rock near the bench they were sitting on. “I’m not saying you have to get back out there or anything,” she rolled her eyes. Harry snorted. The thought was laughable. There was no one else for him, he was certain. “But some hope would be good,” she suggested.

“Why d’you have hope?” He grumbled not looking at his sister.

“Because I want to hate her guts,” Gemma said knowingly. “I want to claw her eyes out for making my baby brother cry and tear her hair out of her head.”

“Gem,” he grimaced. Even hearing her talk about injuring her made him nauseous.

“Yeah, exactly. The thought of it makes me sick too,” she turned to face Harry on the bench. “She broke you and your sweet heart, Harry,” she reminded him. He turned away from her, afraid he would cry. “Because she thought it was for the best and I believe she would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I think she really believed this was for the best. Have you ever seen her do anything she didn’t believe in?” Gemma reminded him.

He hadn’t. Harry, for a brief period of time, really wanted to run a marathon and she helped him schedule and train as if he was going to win a marathon. She hated running but she was up at six in the morning, waiting with a tired, beautiful smile. “Ready?” She yawned. He smirked at the memory. Mostly because when he told her the marathon dream was over, she punched him in the arm for making her like running and getting out of bed so early.

“No,” he sighed, shook his head. Harry let the pause consume the two of them for a few moments. The sound of laughter from the swing set and chatter from the owners to their dogs was warm. Like Harry was there all the time and it was comforting. “I miss her,” he whispered. “I miss her for everything for a lot of reasons... but maybe mostly as m’best friend.”

Gemma smiled sadly, wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and nodded. Harry was her little baby brother, but he was a head taller than her, and he had to squish down to rest his head on hers. “I miss her too,” she sighed. “But don’t worry...” Gemma agreed. “She’s gonna be back,” she assured him. “I can feel it.”

*

So, the first year was without hope. Harry focused on EMS classes, the classes for his psychology degree, and applying to be a volunteer firefighter so that he could get some of what he wanted whether she was there or not.

The second year, he helped with fire safety and the local primary school. He told little boys and girls how to make safety plans and encouraged them to chat with their parents so they could be safe in the case of a fire.

“Have you ever fought a fire?” A little girl asked him.

He chuckled. “No, but m’friend and I made a campfire and it spread a little more on the yard than we’d like,” he explained with a smile. “Had t’put it out ourselves.”

“Weren’t you scared?” She whispered.

Harry thought about the two of them in his backyard, waiting to roast marshmallows and thinking they could do it without his mum around. They were pretty successful, but a gust of wind threw them for a loop. She was ready to call the fire department. Fortunately, Harry was prepared and had a bucket of water to stop the spread of the flames from licking all the grass away.

“Aw, my hero,” she cooed sweetly, and Harry smiled, feeling happy. He was only eleven or so at the time, but he loved the thought of being her hero. It was worth the grounding and worth the yard work to fix it after. All for that cute girl he already adored in his tween years so very much.

“No,” he shook his head, smiling as he answered the little girl. “No, I wasn’t scared. S’important t’remain calm,” he explained.

“But what if my stuffy gets stuck inside?” She looked at Harry, wide-eyed with horror. It was nearly identical to the same horror the sweet girl had when the backyard was close to burning.

“I bet your mum and dad would have a plan, love. M’sure they’ll be able t’tell you what y’need t’do t’get you and your stuffy out,” he winked at her.

She nodded knowingly. “My little brother too?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded firmly. “Little brothers gotta get out too.”

It was like the little girl could predict the future because year three was the year of Harry finishing his degree (early—since he had nothing better to do than study and study some more). He was a staple at the fire station. Helping the town the way he always dreamed of helping.

And fighting real fires.

One of the major restaurants in town had a greasy fire that had him and his department racing to put out the flames before the building next door followed the same fate. Even though he didn’t do a whole lot other than hold the hose (it was a pretty relaxed fire, all things considered) he felt a swell of pride, pure happiness in his chest.

When he was at the local primary school again for a fire drill that same sweet little girl made her way to him, told him all about her plan and how Mummy and Daddy said they would save her stuffies if they could, but they weren’t nearly as important as her. He grinned. “I told you they’d have a plan,” he gave her a fist bump.

“This is my friend, he’s going to be a fireman too,” she pointed to the little boy beside her. He looked a little shy. But he smiled politely.

“S’cool, lad,” he gave him a fist bump as well. “Can’t wait t’have you on the team,” he winked. “Y’gonna train and take care of our little town here?”

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“He’s going to marry me,” the little girl said. It was casual. Like breathing. There wasn’t any fanfare about it, it wasn’t hope. It was pure fact. She sounded certain she was going to marry her little friend. “And he has a plan for all my stuffies too.”

Now Harry felt a pang of jealousy. Or nostalgia. Perhaps it was a combination of both. How on earth could a twenty-two-year-old man be jealous of a nine-year-old?

But nine was the year she was a pirate for Halloween. At the time, Harry thought his best friend was so pretty and he wasn’t supposed to think girls were pretty, but she was. Even though Harry didn’t know why he thought she was pretty, suddenly, he wanted her to be in his life. So that he could soak in all her beauty and make her happy as long as he possibly could. He cleared his throat. “S’good, love,” he agreed kindly and as silly as it was, he walked away from the little ones because if he stayed a moment longer, he would break down crying jealous of the little love that he used to have that bloomed into something so much more and then disappeared.

*

That first year was truly the worst.

Mitch had Mondays, Niall on Wednesdays. Louis took mornings, since he and Harry jogged together around town. Sarah took weekends, making sure he went to the coffee shop that played quiet music while college students studied just near the university. Eleanor was constantly on call and that usually meant she talked him through the loneliness when he got home from his classes or work—he chatted about his day and told her what he was going to have for dinner.

Anne was compassionate. Always. “Honey, don’t you think—”

“Mum,” he sighed, he didn’t want to hear the end of the sentence. He already knew what it was going to be anyway.

“Couldn’t we look for her?” Anne asked. He shook his head.

“She...left,” it felt like acid in his mouth to say it. But maybe if he had followed after her that first week things would have been different. But he didn’t. So, she was gone and if she wanted to be gone, then what was Harry supposed to do but listen to her? At the heart of it all, he wanted her to be happy. Even if it made him miserable and sad.

But maybe Gemma was right—of course he hoped she was right.

“She’ll come back,” he mumbled. It was still hard for him to say. Even harder for him to believe.

But he did. It took two of the three years she had been gone for him to feel that way, but he believed it. Believed that she would come back because she was his soulmate.

Even though he didn’t believe in those.

“Harry,” Anne sighed. “Don’t you think—”

“Mum, m’jus...something happened,” he sighed. “I don’t know why but...something scared her away. M’not gonna make her run further by looking for her. Begging is only going t’make it worse,” he had given the spiel a thousand times over. “You can’t hate her, Mum.”

“Honey, I love that girl almost as much as you do,” she assured him with a grin. “I just don’t want you to stop living because of her.”

He knew she was right. All of them were right. So, he went to class. He went to work. He saved money to buy his house (and got some help from his kind mum too). He did so many overtime shifts, his coworkers thought he was being a suck up. His mum and Gemma worried about him. His friends worried about him. Harry tried out a plethora of ridiculous hobbies to keep him entertained enough and “lived” even though he didn’t want to.

Because living without her didn’t really feel like living.

But that part of Gemma that felt she would be back made him hope, in the deepest parts of his heart. Made him want to live even when he didn’t think he could because if she came back, he did think she might be mad he tried to stop living.

So, he lived.

*

Harry got home from his overnight shift at seven in the morning. He was tired. Didn’t sleep well the day before so it felt like he was going to fall asleep the moment he closed his front door—he wasn’t going to make it to the couch.

“Harry?!”

It was the exhaustion playing with his mind. He wanted to just go inside, not fiddle with Mrs. Peterson’s smoke alarms or make small talk. “Hey, Mrs. Peterson, good morning,” he answered, making his way across the yard to hers. “Everything alright?”

“I’m so sorry to bother you, Harry,” she started.

Harry felt guilty for not wanting to help the older woman. Regardless of how tired he felt. “No bother, Mrs. Peterson, really.”

“I think this house is cursed! Remember when the water heater exploded?!”

Harry smiled politely but wanted nothing more than to just go to bed. But Harry pressed anyway. He knew she was lonely. Harry knew loneliness like nobody else. “I do; what is it this time?”

“The sink is backed up—I think something’s clogged in it. I’m so sorry to bug you. I know you just got home—"

“It’s fine Mrs. Peterson. I’ll take a look,” he made his way through her home to the kitchen. Harry knew where everything was because he had done so much maintenance for her over the last year. Harry glanced at the sink for just a minute and then headed to her supply closet to get a bucket and the tools he had set in there for the very likes of this situation.

Once he had his materials, he laid back on the floor and crawled below the cabinet to get a look at the pipe curving out from the sink. All he wanted was to go home and fall asleep. But every once in a while, his thoughts kicked into overdrive—perhaps it was tiredness wreaking havoc on his brain.

Out of nowhere, this wasn’t Mrs. Peterson’s house.

It was the house he was supposed to be sharing with the love of his life. She would be hovering over him, making a joke about plumbing and pipes that would bring a blush to his face. Something he never expected the sweet girl to say but was enamored with her comedic timing. He would fix the issue and hear her say “my hero,” again. She would kiss him and probably convince him (although he needed very little convincing when it came to her and any desire she had) to have sex with her on the kitchen counter.

It took a minute for Harry to notice the water stopped leaking into the bucket. Carefully, he stuck a screwdriver into the pipes to make sure everything was clear and ready to be put back. “Alright, then,” he cleared his throat and slid back from the cabinet and stood to test the sink.

“You know Harry,” Mrs. Peterson began. “A handsome, kind, intelligent young man like you,” Harry was back below the sink putting the pipe back together. “I have a granddaughter your age. She’s very smart. She wants to be an engineer and she’s going to work—”

Harry smiled kindly. “Thank you, Mrs. Peterson,” it wasn’t the first time she had brought it up. “But, y’know m’happily taken.”

*

The first year was the worst.

Fortunately, her mom didn’t put up too much of a fight when she went home and said she wanted to move away. The car accident she was in really did a number on her and her mind. In turn, it messed with her daughter as well.

Mom said she planned on moving when she went off to college anyway. In a moment of clarity, a good day she was having, she explained she wanted to be closer to her sister so that she could let her live her young life the way she was supposed to and not have to worry about her addled mind. At the time, she was devastated. The thought of not having a house near Harry seemed horrifying. Grounds for a tantrum she never threw when she was young. She was going to drag her feet and keep hold onto Harry like she was being told she had to leave a theme park.

At the time, Harry wiped her tears away, kissed her gently on the forehead and assured her she could live with him until they got a house of their own.

She never thought she would willingly ask her mom to leave their lovely town.

Fortunately, the day she asked to leave her eyes were bloodshot, but her moms were clear. “Are you sure, sweetie?” She combed her hair back and kissed her forehead the same way Harry had in the exact opposite reaction. “What happened?”

She inhaled sharply, shook her head, and turned away. “No,” she sniveled. “No.”

So, for a few moments, her mom was her mom. The one that was kind and lovely. The one who’s mind was fully intact and didn’t get angry for no reason. “Oh sweetie,” she frowned and held her while she cried.

When they arrived at her new place, a small little house her mom was renting just a few miles away from her aunt, they reminisced about the photos and trinkets she grew up with. They laughed and she felt like she was at home even though it was the furthest from home she ever could have imagined.

“You know, when I’m mad, it’s not about you, my love. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” her mom told her. “I’m sorry I’m not the mom you used to have.”

Her dad had ducked his responsibilities shortly before her mom’s water broke so it had always been the two of them. For a very long time, it was perfect. Her childhood was perfect. The best mom who never made her feel like she couldn’t do something.

Then, post-accident, it felt like just one and a half of them.

Sometimes, she didn’t know who the half was.

But one thing she could count on was that Harry would make her whole.

“I’m worried that I won’t live my life because of her,” she whispered to Harry. They were laying under the stars in his backyard. It was before they were together; but if you asked her, there was never a time they weren’t together. Being boyfriend and girlfriend in school was a label for everyone else, not for them. “It makes me feel selfish,” her voice creaked.

“You are the least selfish person I know, kitten,” Harry reached out and grabbed her hand. Squeezed it. “Your mum is still your mum,” he promised. “She doesn’t want you t’take care of her. S’not your job. You have t’live your life for her.”

Harry was a year older than her, but it often felt like he was ages older. He was wise beyond reason, and she was so grateful he was in her life. Not just because he was easy to look at and she adored him so unbelievably much, but because he was right. He was there. And he always made her feel better.

She was turned on her side, so she could properly stare at him. The car accident was years ago at that point, and it still felt fresh. Part of her lost a chunk of her mom that day and sometimes the aftermath was more painful than the day her aunt came to get her at school and bring her to the hospital. She and Harry usually walked home from school and the poor thing nearly had a panic attack not knowing where she was.

How no one, including themselves, figured out they were meant for one another long before they were together, seemed crazy to look back on.

When she realized her mom was different, Harry was there to balance the craziness. He helped her cope and assured her that everything would work itself out. He helped her through the screaming matches that ensued and all the frustration she felt from not being the same mom she once had. Things would be okay—he would make sure of it.

It was ridiculous that two teenagers could think in absolutes like that. But she believed him so completely; neither of them had money—well, no more than their retail jobs offered. Harry couldn’t support her anymore than she could support him. But given the chance she was certain he would. And she wanted nothing more than to be there for Harry the way he was for her.

But without Harry, she felt numb. Trivial stuff didn’t matter anymore: a broken dish, mom yelling at her, a car repair, or a cut on her finger from slicing veggies for dinner. Waitressing mishaps and stressing for finals felt completely different without Harry by her side.

Her mom forgot a lot of stuff. Where she put bills, where she left her glasses, or how to get to the grocery store. But she never forgot Harry.

“How’s Harry?” She asked.

“Good,” it was easier on her heart and her mom to just say he was fine. It wasn’t worth reliving the experience over and over. It killed her that she didn’t forget. Hearing his name made her stomach flutter. But they were closer to her aunt now. So she was able to help with the things her mom was forgetting more frequently and the chronic pain and anger that she suffered from due to the accident. It was why she was able to live in apartment with a friend from school.

How she was able to make a friend at all was a miracle.

Addie was a history major and but took so many dance classes she could have double-majored in it. She was graceful and beautiful. She was loud and fun—always knew people who threw the best parties and always managed to find a guy to help move their stuff in and out of their dorm and apartments.

Part of her wondered why Addie even liked being friends with her. She wasn’t anything like Addie: bright, vivacious, life-loving. All she did was go to class, go to work, and mourn the loss of the love of her life even though it was her own fault.

After some coaxing and friendship building (and a thunderstorm mid semester that took out the power in the middle of the night and simultaneously woke the pair of them) she told Addie all about her past life. “Sweetie,” Addie shook her head and spoke into the dark room as if she could see her. It felt like she was yanking directly on her heart. “You could have him again,” she promised. “There’s no way he’s not waiting for you.”

“But Addie... he deserves more.”

“Well, he probably doesn’t want more.”

“Addie,” she shook her head. “I’m not...”

“Not what? Everything you just said made it sound like you’re his soulmate.”

She felt like her vocal cords had been pinched together. She was glad the darkness hid the tears. “Harry didn’t believe in those,” she whispered.

“Well, respectfully, sweetie…he’s as dumb as you are, then.”

She laughed. It started quietly and built and built. Her giggle into unfiltered pure joy. It had been months since she laughed like that. It was warm and made Addie laugh alongside her. She didn’t know how much she missed laughing. It didn’t make it better because God, did she miss Harry and her old life, her old friends, and everything about that wonderful, beautiful town. But it made her think that maybe, if she could laugh, Harry would too. That’s what she wanted, right? At the end of the day, it was why she left. Give Harry the chance to have more when she felt like less.

*

Addie took a writing class with her in their second semester. An intro class—but it was one of those ones that was ridiculously hard for no reason at all. Luckily, she enjoyed writing, but if someone took this class as a hopeful, easy elective, they were in for a rude awakening.

Their professor had just finished reading one of the assignments from the previous week. It was riveting, a short story about a girl who felt this undeniable pull to jump off a bridge in the town she lived in. It wasn’t a tragic kind of jump. It was like a reset, something hard to explain. That there were a lot of things she felt it would help—if she just jumped once, it—no everything—would be okay. She described the bridge, the rocks, the water with so much rich vocabulary, it was like everyone in the class was there at the bridge. The protagonist hated heights though, and jumping was dangerous even if it wasn’t tragic. The back and forth of pros and cons as to why she should jump, why she shouldn’t. The humor, the warmth, the nostalgia hit the entire class like a tsunami.

The final paragraph read about the girl going to the bridge. She had just decided, finally she was going to jump. She set her belongings down and climbed the railing. She was alone and brave. No one was going to stop her, and she felt so good. She wasn’t going to stop herself. She breathed in the salty air, didn’t look down, and listened to the sound of waves crashing over the rocky shore. It was peaceful. No cars around, no people. Just her and the water. It was exciting, Addie felt for the character wanting the reset more than she wanted to breathe. It was going to work; she was going to feel better. Addie was proud of her for wanting to do it and getting what she wanted.

A reset. To fix everything. Their professor read.

Then, she climbed off the railing, picked up her stuff, and went home.

How was anyone supposed to remain in this writing class if that was what they were competing with?

“I hope she publishes that,” Addie whispered.

Their professor wrote the assignment on the board. Another short reading and then questions to go over it. The room was silent while people read, and then quiet chatter started as they worked in pairs on the assignment. At the same time, their professor shuffled the previous writing assignments and returned them to their authors.

The paper titled Jump slid onto the desk beside Addie. She stared at her friend like she was possessed. “Are you kidding?”

She quietly tucked the paper below her new assignment sheet and shrugged, cheeks blushing at the notion. Addie was in awe and unnerved that she didn’t seem to care. Over the next several classes, she kept an eye on her friend so she wouldn’t miss any more brilliance. She wrote answers to questions her professor asked in her notebook. “Why don’t you answer?” Addie whispered.

“Shh,” she hushed.

“Are you a genius? Like a prodigy or something?”

“Shut up,” she hissed, worried her professor would say something about their rude and ridiculous whispering to them.

After class, they headed back to their dorm for a nap. It was like they were toddlers, but they didn’t care. “So, Prodigy—”

“Addie,” she laughed. “Stop.”

“What’s your plan? A book?”

There was a small pause. Reflective almost. Then she nodded. “Yes.”

They were quiet. Addie waited for her to elaborate but it never came. “Sweetie, you’re brilliant.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, still not elaborating. That was the first time she felt like her old self in her writing. It was the first piece of something that was sentimental and her that she had written since she left. It had been 231 days since she saw Harry. Last week when they had been assigned the homework to write something like Jump, she finally felt like it was worth writing.

“Hey,” Addie stopped her, a hand on her arm as they approached their dorm. “Can we just...take a second? You wrote something so brilliant and beautiful. Maybe you and Harry were used to that kind of brilliance, but I’m only just learning about it,” Addie said Harry’s name so casually. Like she had known him just as long as she had. Harry would love Addie, she was sure. “You should enter that in a contest,” she told her. She snorted and shook her head. “I’m serious! It should be published. You hooked me in, and it was what, five thousand words?”

She nodded; shrugged nonchalantly. “More like four thousand, actually.”

Well, it felt like ten thousand to Addie and she still loved it. “Why did you write it?” Addie asked. Biting the inside of her lip she shrugged again. But she knew. They both knew. “Sweetie, you can go back to him. You can jump,” she said reassuringly. Tears filled her eyes and she looked away. “Harry would under—”

“I know,” she croaked. “I know,” she sniffled. The chill in the air wasn’t helping. Harry’s birthday was only a few days ago and it was the first one in years where she didn’t send him a message at midnight. She had been the first one to wish him a happy birthday for the last ten years—since she was old enough to text him. But Addie was right. Harry would understand. It was ridiculous that he would. He would forgive her instantly. But it was barely half a year. It was too soon...it wasn’t enough time to let him... breathe without her.

Even if it felt like she was suffocating without him.

“Aw, babe,” Addie sighed and wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulder. It took her a second to notice she was crying, sniveling more than was necessary as she remembered his birthday wishes. “I’m sorry,” she said and ushered her the rest of the way into their dorm. “We can talk about it another time.”

She sniveled and wiped her eyes. “S’okay. Thank you for being so nice, Addie,” she said truthfully. A different friend might have told her to quit crying and it was her own choice. But Addie was different. Because as brilliant as she was, Addie had a knack for this kind of emotion, this kind of understanding that someone as graceful as her could only understand.

“Of course,” she held the door open for the lobby. “That’s what best friends are for.”

*

She worked a lot from the moment she set foot on campus. She waitressed at a restaurant that was flooded with locals and plenty of college students. For years the only one that flirted with her was Harry. She was surprised when guys asked her out while she was working. It was a little uncomfortable at first. “I’m actually—”

“Of course she’s taken,” one of the guys at her table said to his friend.

And honestly, she hadn’t thought of that. Fortunately, she still felt taken. Very much so. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to move on from Harry. “You are?” he asked with a frown.

“Happily,” she sighed softly. Because it was true—partly. She was smitten; completely taken by and with Harry. Whether he was physically around her or not. There wouldn’t be anyone else. Couldn’t be.

It didn’t stop the flirtations, but it made it easier to take them on because she could say her heart was taken. Happily, taken.

So, the first year was the worst. Figuring out how to live without her best friend and so she focused on school. She focused on work. But Harry invaded her every thought. In fact, she started writing down things that happened to her. Like a list because maybe, in the depths of her subconscious, she wanted to go back. That’s what Jump was about. She had to go back. Even if it was to see that he had moved on and if he did, that was good. He deserved it.

Harry was in her blood. He was written in her notebooks as if she had it tattooed on her skin.

*

“Do you want to get an apartment?” Addie asked. “You’re staying the summer, yeah? What was your plan for that?”

She wasn’t sure, honestly. It was April and the semester was coming to close in just a few weeks. She thought she would just sleep in her car or something and shower at the gym. Visit her mom for a bit of time about an hour away. Or maybe even commute from there. But she hadn’t thought about it, because it honestly didn’t matter. She would continue working and moving. Trying her hand at silly hobbies to entertain her mind and keep her from spiraling and being sad all the time.

“Yeah...um...no...no plan. An apartment?” the sale of her mom’s house gave her a pretty penny. It was kind of her mom to give her anything. Well...you know. Her mom shrugged. An unspoken sentence about inheritance and the like.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have air conditioner that worked when we wanted it to?” Addie sighed dreamily. “Or heat? Like why are these dorms even allowed to run without heat in the middle of a snowstorm?”

The chilly night they spent snuggled in bed beneath every blanket they owned and every sweatshirt they could possibly put on was now a fond memory that made them smile. Although it was anything but fond at the time. “And if the smoke detector goes off, we don’t have to run out necessarily,” Addie continued. “You can feel not guilty about writing into the night in your own room.”

“Are you trying to sell apartment living or are you flirting with me?”

“Whatever gets you to move in. My parents know someone so the rent will be cheap—just have to pay the utilities and a little monthly fee. The only thing is we’d have to move twice. They have this place for the summer but we’d have to go to a different one of their places at the end of August.”

With the tips she was making, plus the tutoring she did at the writing center, it seemed completely doable. But a huge part of her hesitated because she always dreamed her first apartment would be with Harry. He would help her move furniture and let her decorate it however she wanted even though she asked every time if he liked it. What if I want pink walls with yellow polka dots? She asked him. Then I’ll get m’paintbrush. What if I only want blow-up furniture? She wondered. Then I’ll buy an air pump.

“We’ll have to go furniture shopping,” she said instead.

Addie squealed.

*

She was sitting in the auditorium watching Addie’s dance recital. A guy sat beside her. “Hey,” he said sweetly. “I’m Carter,” he stuck his hand out. She offered her name quietly.

Harry would love Carter. Clearly a bright personality—outgoing and sweet. “I saw you sitting alone and figured I’m alone too. Are you waiting for someone?” He asked. She shook her head. “I think we have a class together,” she didn’t immediately recognize him. Harry would love him. Would love how sweet he was to get ready to just chat and make her feel comfortable without being creepy. Even though she did not want to talk to him. Not because he made her feel weird but because she was grumpy, sullen and sad. “Do you know someone in the show?”

She cleared her throat. “My best friend; my roommate. Addie,” she pointed in the brochure showing a picture of her that she had to submit a week ago and they spent hours going over photos of her.

She watched him look at her picture. For a moment it was like looking in a mirror. She knew what Carter saw because she experienced it every time that she looked at Harry. Unwittingly, she had just shown Carter the first image of his soulmate.

“Oh... oh wow... she’s... she’s like... really pretty,” he swallowed his eyes widening, drinking in her portrait like she was the only thing that mattered. “Sorry,” he shook his head and turned away briefly. When he turned back to continue the conversation, he had a bright smile on his face. But she was already mentally gushing about the way he had fallen for her friend just from a mere headshot in a program. “My sister did dance for years and I’m really far away from home so I thought I would come check it out. I used to complain about all the recitals, but now I miss them. Isn’t that weird, how you take it for granted?”

She didn’t feel like talking. Especially about things that were taken for granted. She had spent most of the day packing up her dorm room and scouring Facebook Marketplace for cheap furniture. She and Addie were going to as many thrift stores and yard sales this weekend as it took to furnish their two-bedroom place. She was tired and overwhelmed.

Maybe I should suggest blow-up furniture.

But Carter clearly wanted to chat, and they still had a few minutes until the show started. Obviously, he liked her friend already, so she needed him to like her because she couldn’t stand to lose another person in her life. Even of her own doing. “Yeah,” she sighed. “It’s like you... you forget all the little things,” she murmured. “Like I remember the big things, like the hugs and the vacation memories, all the popcorn we shared at the movies...” She smiled fondly. “You don’t remember like the way they left the kitchen a mess or shoes by the door covered with snow.”

“Yeah... yeah, exactly,” he smiled sadly. “Do you have a sister?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I... I had some really close friends though. We... I,” she swallowed. Admitting it was all her fault, out loud, was an entirely different thing. “I left them behind... because...” she shrugged. “Y’know.”

Carter watched her curiously for a moment. It was clear he didn't know. “The writing class—we’re in that writing class together,” he recognized.

Then she knew, he sat by the window. His partner incorrectly answered a lot of questions. “Oh, that’s right,” she nodded.

“Do you have any theories on who wrote that Jump thing? My partner in class and I have been trying to figure it out for months. It’s been published you know.”

She did know. She had been paid fifteen hundred dollars for its publication after Addie insisted that she submit it to a magazine two months ago. But she didn’t pay much mind to it. It hurt a lot. She thought about lying though. Maybe even saying it was Addie. She had two siblings at home and Carter was very cute. She would probably fall in love with him without even trying. She couldn’t wait to introduce them after the show. “Yeah, um... I actually... I wrote it.”

His eyebrows rose to the middle of his forehead. “Wow... wow,” he was staring at her like she did jump off the bridge she wrote about. “You know...that makes sense. I’ve never heard you talk, but... now, I’m not surprised... You speak the way you write.”

“How’s that?” She wondered curiously.

“It’s just... gentle, I guess,” he shrugged. “Like I feel like I want to tell you everything; I wanted to tell you everything after our professor read your story and I didn't know you,” he chuckled. “I met you what, three minutes ago? That's not normal.”

She smiled fondly. “I get that a lot.”

Harry told her all the time she was too nice—but not in a bad way. It was more so that she had an open, adorable face and just had the sweetest demeanor. You could talk a man into bed if y’wanted, kitten. He winked. Y’wouldn’t even have t’say anything; he would do all the talking.

Gently, he put his hand on her arm. “I hope you jump,” he said quietly, with a little squeeze as the curtain fell closed, and the lights dimmed. Her heart fluttered. He was meant for Addie.

“Can I introduce you to Addie after the show?” She whispered right as the emcee stood center stage with the microphone ready to get the show started.

“Good evening,” she said. "Our dancers--"

“Yeah?” He smiled so brightly she could see it in the dim light, whispering back to her. “That would be nice, thank you.”

Someone deserved a happily ever after anyway.

*

They were so destined for a happily ever after.

Carter wouldn’t leave her side. Brought her flowers every week and made sure she always had a jacket that he would carry in case it was cold. When she was studying, he would literally feed her dinner to make sure she had food in her stomach.

Their love was so pure she was jealous. She could only imagine how Harry would have taken care of her on nights she had to stay up all night. He probably would have turned the pages of her books or read to her out loud when her eyes were tired. Hell, he would have written essays for her only for her to rewrite them and correct them just for fun.

Carter helped them move their stuff from their dorm to the apartment, and then to the second apartment. Then when Addie’s parents’ friends asked if they would be willing to move to a different apartment so they could have an elderly couple move into the lower floor place he helped move them again.

“Hey gorgeous. How's my favorite matchmaker,” Carter winked at her as he walked into the apartment. He was a staple. So very much in love with Addie he walked in whenever he wanted and truly, she didn’t care. “Addie’s on her way home, I was going to make her mac and cheese, do you want some?”

God, Harry would love him.

“No thanks, I’ve got a shift in a bit. Just finishing my rough draft.”

“Awesome, well, let me know if I’m making too much noise.”

God, she loved him.

“Do you want... to hear it?” She asked. Harry used to read and listen to her poems and her prose. Her writing was like doodles on the edge of her notebooks but it felt like she was reading Harry a bedtime story. He would beg to hear something, anything. Sometimes she would just reread old stuff when she hadn’t written anything new, but he listened to it in awe like it was the first time he heard it anyway.

“Do you want to share?” He asked. Surprise coated his tone. He pulled the dishes out he was going to use and looked at her over the half wall between the kitchen and living room. “I’m game if you are. I just figured it was private.”

She ignored him and began to read. Recently she had been inspired to write about love that was hidden but love all the same. Something that Carter said back in the auditorium really resonated, made her want to write the way she used to. The way she wrote Jump. She talked about dance recitals that she hated and the way the people left muddy shoes on the floor. She wrote about how sometimes when she least expected it, she thought of the love that resided in the bathroom, a sticky note on the mirror telling her to have a good day. Putting a glass of water on the bedside table because she had a late night. Giggling at a message that was sent two days ago but made her smile as if it was sent a minute ago. How love was green eyes and dimples that always knew what to say even when she was down. She talked about love that was quiet and perfect because love didn’t need to be loud.

It took a moment to notice that it was silent in their apartment. She looked up and realized she couldn’t see Carter because her eyes were filled with tears. “Wow,” he murmured. “You’re uh...” he shook his head. “You’re going to write the world’s greatest love story,” he smiled.

She snorted, laughed, crying still. "Yeah...yeah, no..." she wiped below her eyes unable to say anything else.

Carter walked over to the couch, set her precious notebook on the coffee table that had a heart on the inside cover with someone's name she shouldn't have written any longer. Then she sat beside his favorite matchmaker. He rubbed her back and told her it would all be okay.

She thought about how she hadn’t seen the love of her life in 382 days but she felt it as if she had fallen in love for the first time yesteday.

The first year was the hardest. But at least she could write again.

It made the second and third years pass in the blink of an eye. Aching for a love that was in her notebooks and in her head.

*

Harry’s coworker was waiting for him outside the coffee shop. His shift was over, but he had plans to finish his latest creation that morning. A caffeine jolt would be just what he needed before he headed home.

“Hey Lauren,” he smiled sweetly.

“Hi Harry,” she answered with a bright smile. Her voice was cheerful, and it reminded Harry of the girl he wanted to hear from more than anything.

“Any word?”

There were plenty of coffee shops in town. But Lauren was extremely helpful in his need for information—or at least she tried. He just wanted to know she was okay. Lauren had worked there for as long as they were old enough to have jobs. While she was always just on the other side of Harry’s circle of friends, he thought that she could get away with seeing Lauren and Harry might not ever know. He chose this one coffee shop, slightly out of his way, because he thought maybe if she was passing through, it might be the one place she chose—just to see an old friend.

Lauren was extremely helpful at first. Harry had stopped by the shop shortly after Gemma had talked to him in the park. It seemed like fate that he would run into her. Tried reaching out to her, trying to help Harry figure out why. In the end, it amounted to nothing. Not a word came back.

“No word,” her voice was quieter. Like she felt bad that she hadn’t heard anything.

So, he stopped asking. But the habit of visiting Lauren, it made him feel closer to her. In some small way.

He had two trays of drinks that he brought to Louis and Eleanor’s place. They were situated around the coffee table, waiting for a football game to start on TV. It was quiet while they listened to the pregame show and Harry found Sarah staring at him. “What?” He asked.

“You can’t fall in love with Lauren,” Sarah said.

Everyone groaned and agreed with the sentiment.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry muttered as he took a sip of his drink.

“I would castrate you myself,” Eleanor assured him.

“M’not—”

“Harry wouldn’t do that,” Niall said defensively.

“Yeah, that was one of her best friends,” Mitch chimed in as well.

“I don’t—”

“I’m just saying,” Sarah said defensively. “I don’t want you to fall for Lauren just because she’s like her.”

Harry looked at his lap and shook his head. “M’not falling in love again,” he assured them. “As far as m’concerned... m’heart is taken.”

*

It was a stop light. The music beside him was loud. He scrolled through his phone aimlessly. Something he never did before she left. Why would he need to scroll when she was there? They created their own fun and entertainment. Now, it was the only thing that kept his tired mind occupied. Everything was to pass the time. He laughed when he was supposed to, smiled when he was supposed to. When he needed to move or help someone, he did.

But Harry was undecidedly different. He didn’t laugh the same way. He didn’t love the same anymore. How could he?

The music playing was a hit from ages ago—a song his mum loved and played a lot while he was growing up. If it wasn’t one of his favorites of his mum’s, he might not have looked up from his phone screen. But he did. Thank God, he did.

He dropped his phone. It clanked between his boots against the floor of the truck. His jaw fell slack. “Kitten?” He called instinctively. Her music was too loud, though. Plus, she was singing along. Tapping the steering wheel to the rhythm of the instruments behind the lyrics. Harry’s heart started to race. Like he was in a five-alarm fire. He opened the door without thinking and stepped into the stoplight traffic.

“Harry!” The light was still red, but it wouldn’t be for long. He knocked on her window causing her to jump and double-take as she looked toward him. It felt like Harry had sprinted a marathon in his gear. He was sweating, his breathing erratic.

How long had she been home? Was she home?

God, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

It was like the Earth flipped back to the correct magnetic field. All the pieces of his splintered heart slammed back together. He was overwhelmed with love for her. The 1,127 days that he had counted without her hadn’t passed since he last saw her—it was just yesterday that he saw her, right? She looked the same, beautiful as ever. She smiled; it was small. Almost like she didn’t mean to smile but it was a reflex. Harry smiled back—a reflex of his own at the sight of her. She never failed to make him smile. Even in his memories, the good, the bad, the awful day she left, Harry couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her. His knuckles were still pressed to the window, refusing to move away from the piece of her that was finally physical and real in front of him. It felt like no time had passed. As if it was the very same day that she broke his heart, and they were just lucky to happen to bump into one another while running errands later that day.

“STYLES!” Shouted from behind him.

He blinked, the sound of horns honking returned. Her small smile disappeared, and she waved ever so slightly and started through the intersection. The line of cars beeping behind her. The line of cars behind the truck agitated and beeping as well behind his waiting partner.

Harry hopped back into the truck and watched her turn right at the next streetlight. As they passed the street, his eyes stayed glued to her turn, long after they passed the street. His coworker cleared his throat. “Was that...?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. The breath felt new; like he hadn’t really ever taken a deep breath in a really long time. As if he had been holding it for the last three years and he forgot what oxygen really felt like as it entered his lungs. “Yeah,” he repeated to himself.

--

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[thecuriousbeauty]

Traitor-The Present (Harry Styles au- Mafia!Harry)

Chapter Six

A/N:- Hold on tight cause this is going to be a roller coaster kind of chapter. If you haven't read the other parts, I suggest you read them cause this chapter holds important details. You can find the other parts here.

Series Synopsis:- y/n is a hard working painter, trying to make the ends meet. She lives with and takes care of her sick Uncle, the only one she has for a family. She has dreams to make it big, and when the desperation for money strikes, she has to make a choice. Walk away after listening to an incredible deal that would fix all her problems, or take up the deal. A top secret, risky deal, which involves meeting Harry Styles.A man once rumored to be a dangerous secret weapon of a leading mafia.

Warnings: Violence, use of guns, physical assault, mentions of nightmare, killings. Some smut and a lot of angst.

Word Count: 8k

__________________________________________________________

y/n jumps as she hears the sound of the glass window breaking. Someone's blood was splattered on her hands, and on the walls. Then she flinches as she hears the gunshot.

y/n wakes up with a gasp, and sees Harry's green eyes staring back at her.

"W-What?", she whispers, hand on her heart.

"You okay?", he asks, hand reaching to stroke her hair and move it away from her sweaty face. "Same dream again?"

"Yeah..", she sighs, taking a deep breath. "I-I'm sorry for waking you up.."

"No, I wasn’t sleeping.", Harry runs his hand down y/n's bare back as she curls up to him, placing her head on his chest. It was around midday and y/n had fallen asleep after their mind blowing sex and a nice relaxing shower. She thought Harry had too. 

She looks up at him, noticing how his eyebrows were furrowed, and his soft lips laying in a straight line. “Were you thinking about Reagen?”

Harry nods, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “You should figure out what those nightmares are about, love. You’re getting them more often.”

Yes, she had to, but that wasn’t the most pressing matter right now.  "If Reagen’s alive, why is she not searching for you? What was she doing all these years?"

Harry shakes his head, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes. "I don't know. Maybe she's planning something, like she was that night. She was hiding something from me. I can't remember what.."

The thought of Reagen being alive opened up many more questions in y/n's head. If everything Romania, Hans and Oliver told her was true, Reagen was capable of anything. She was the best in their gang, and the only one who came close to her capabilities was Harry. Did something happen in the gang? Did she find someone doing something they weren't supposed to be doing?

She knew Reagen was friendly, happy and treated everyone nicely. Hans said they were her family. Then why wouldn't she come back to that family if she was alive? Unless, she wanted everyone to think she was dead while she was secretly plotting something.

What if Reagen wasn't the kind of woman they thought she was? What if she had another face? One that they didn't know existed.

"We had a fight...", Harry’s voice wavers as he tries to remember. "T-That's all I can remember now..I'm getting glimpses back, can't piece it all together yet."

"A physical..fight?", y/n asks.

"I think so..yeah.", Harry closes his eyes, letting out a slow breath. "My head hurts.."

"Okay, it's okay..relax.", y/n doesn't hesitate to pull him into a hug. She couldn’t imagine what he must be going through as he remembered those glimpses. "Shh..it's okay, you're okay.", she whispers, scooting up on the bed so he could bury his head in her chest. 

y/n had also thought about it, and she came up with a lot of evil Reagan possibilities as well. But one thing that drowned out all those suspicious was the fact that they were in love, and they were going to get married. Harry was going to propose to her. They were soulmates.

"I want to go back.", Harry whispers to her. "I don't feel good about this, we have to go back y/n."

She wanted to agree and go back to San Francisco, but they had about a day and a half left.

"W-We've come so close. We'll go back soon babe. I promised Sania I'd drop the car off..."

"Fine. Let's get going then.", he sits up. "Did you get his number?"

"N-Number?"

"Your friend's, who told you about my story?"

"I um, no, he hasn't gotten back to me on social media yet.", she lies, looking away from him. Harry suddenly grabs her face, fingers around her jaw as he lifts her face up so her eyes look into his deep green ones.

"I believe it's the truth you're telling me, sunshine.", he says softly, his tone wasn’t rough at all. That's what made it more scary. The usual tone of endearment didn't sound so good now. Harry was remembering things and she was scared. Will the person whom everyone fears, come out? Will the Harry she loves disappear to become the one he used to be?

"I-It is.", she whispers, goosebumps starting to creep up her arms from the coldness of his fingers. Why was he so freezing cold? His eyes studied hers, and she was tempted to yank her face away from his hold, but she stayed still. He wouldn't hurt her, he said so himself.

But he admitted that he had a physical fight with Reagen. What if Harry was the one who was hiding something and Reagen found out.

She resists a flinch as Harry lets go of her jaw and his hand moves to her head. But it was to check on her bruise. “Mm, that’s healing up well..”

She tries for a smile as he kisses the skin right above the wound.

She needed to know more information now before it was too late. They hit the road after getting some tacos for lunch, and drove for a straight two hours before stopping for a tea break.

"Let me make a few calls, be right back.", she tells Harry as she gets up from the seat next to him, and he nods, continuing to drink his tea silently.

She walks away, making sure he wouldn't hear her, before calling Romania.

"Hello, Romania isn't here, what's up?", it was Hans who answered.

"Hans..this is important."

"Duh, do you think I can't take important news? You will freak out if you know what my everyday job is-"

"-Fine, stop boasting.", she cuts him off in annoyance. "What has Harry done? Has he k-killed anyone? I need to know."

"Why do you need to know that, y/n?", Hans sounds more serious.

"Because..he's getting things back and I need to know who I'm traveling with!"

"And having sex with.", Hans adds, with a little chuckle. "Wait. You said he's remembering things, what did he say?"

"Hans, answer my question first-"

"-I make the rules y/n, tell me what you know and I'll tell you what you want to know."

She groans, she really hates him. She tells him everything.

"Wow..that is great progress. I'll tell everyone. Great talking to y/n-"

"-I will stop this right now and tell him everything if you don't tell me what the fuck I'm dealing with.", y/n snaps, and lowers her voice when she realizes it was loud. "Hans, please."

"Okay.", Hans sighs. "Yes, he has killed. Everyone in this gang has killed somebody, y/n. Harry shot his alcoholic dad before joining. He has planted microchips for spying on our enemies, hacked into their accounts, blew up their cars, hotels, houses, along with them and their family. He has led bombing missions along with Reagen, everything they both led was a success, until that gold smuggling mission. Anyone who crosses Harry is pretty much dead."

Harry killed people. The kind Doctor she knew used to kill people. Probably with that same gun he had in his bag. She couldn’t even start to imagine Harry doing all that now. No, he wouldn’t. That was in the past. She frowns as she realizes something, "Y-You didn't sound surprised when I told you that Reagen's alive."

"Um.."

"W-Were you all lying to me?", y/n gasps. She blindly trusted their dumb story.

"You wouldn't agree to do this if you knew the truth about Harry and Reagen. She is alive, but we don't have any information about her. Our people search for her every day. I do miss her, I didn't lie about that, y/n."

"What else are you hiding from me?", y/n asks. "Hans, I'm putting my life in danger here, for you guys."

"I know, y/n, and we're so grateful that you're doing this. Listen, it's just one more day. Tomorrow, we'll meet you at the location. Romania will call later to tell you all the details. Please, hold on for some more time."

She hangs up, and sighs. There was too much going on, she was going to go crazy if she continued talking to these people. She had to talk to someone normal. The only normal person in her life. 

"Hi! I just finished baking some cookies.", Uncle Luke answers, making her smile. "Cookies? I wish I could have some of those right now."

"Aw, what happened? You sound tensed.", Uncle Luke says.

"I-I don't know what to do, Uncle Luke. Things are a bit confusing and scary..I'll have the money and I'll be back to you on the first flight tomorrow once everything is over, but..I don't know what'll happen in the next few hours."

She didn't know if Uncle Luke remembered where she was or why she was doing this, but she just had to tell him that.

"Trust your gut.", he replies. "Your instincts are always right, y/n. Do what you need to do. I'll be waiting for you."

She closes her eyes, taking in a fresh breath of air. It smelled like rain. The smell of the soil and the air when they’re preparing for the shower from above. She looks up at the sky as the gray clouds gather and little droplets of rain fall in crazy chaotic drops. The gusting wind carrying them in wild vertices one moment in diagonal sheets the next.

"Thanks Uncle Luke. I'll call you later! It's raining!", she covers her phone's speaker from the rain.

"Yeah, don't get sick in the rain! I love you!"

"I love you too, bye!"

y/n feels someone come up behind her, and turns around but it was only Harry. He held an umbrella, and his arm quickly ushered her to his side, so she was under the umbrella. She looks at him as he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her close. He had human blood on his hands in the past. y/n wondered why she didn't feel disgusted, or why her feelings for him didn't change after what she had learned about him. Maybe it was because she always suspected it.

"Come on darling, rain's getting heavier.", Harry brings her out of her daydream with a gentle kiss to her cheek, and they start walking to the car. Harry gets her in, before going to the other side.

"You okay?", the beautiful green eyes looked at hers.

She smiles and nods. "Thank you."

"Of course.", Harry smiles back and leans forward to cup her cheek with one hand, the other hand going to her hip. "I-I have a feeling things are going to change between us.", y/n can't help but voice her concern.

"Why do you feel so?", he asks, pressing his forehead against hers.

"I don't know, Harry.", she whispers, her arms wrapping around his neck and her hands interlocking at the back of his neck.

"I know I've done things, y/n..but it doesn't change my love for you. I fell in love with you since the day I met you.", he whispers. "You're so full of sunshine, maybe that's why I was attracted to you. You're the light to my darkness. I will burn down the world for you, baby. I can't explain how much I love you. You know I'm bad at expressing my feelings. I..I'll always have your back, and I wish things weren't like this. I'm so sorry."

"I-It's not your fault..", y/n whispers, stroking the hair at the back of his head. "I knew everything and I still fell in love with you."

"I never want to lose you.", Harry closes his eyes, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I can't live without you. I love you so much, sunshine."

It was like he was holding back something he really wanted to say.

"I love you too, Harry." She hugs him tight. "When you remember it all, will you go back to your old life or will you come back home with me?"

"I'll go where you go.", he mumbles. "Wasn't my speech clear enough?"

She laughs, throwing her head back as his lips attack all over her face, leaving gentle little loving kisses on her skin. She couldn't change his past, but she could change his present and the future. She didn’t know what was going to happen in the next 24 hours, but at least she has something to hold on to. She has Harry.

_________________________________________________

Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. But what does the end of the world really mean? If all human beings die, does it mean the world does too? y/n wanted to ask what Uncle Luke thought about the end of the world. He usually had the right answers and the right thoughts. 

y/n woke up that day with a feeling of dread hanging in the air. She felt like it was doomsday.

She knew that she would be on a plane back home by the end of the day, and even though Harry had said that he would go where she goes, she had a few doubts. Romania and her gang clearly want him back in their gang and they will go to any extent for that. What if they grab him and shove him in a kidnapper van and tell her to get away? No, she chides herself. Harry's strong and they're all scared of him, that can't happen.

The only bright side was that she would get her money, and she would be done with all this. She still felt bad for not telling Harry the complete truth. She would today, she would tell him everything.

Harry didn't look nervous, unlike y/n. Why would he? He didn't know what was going to happen. But he did seem to be deep in his thoughts that morning.

If nothing ended well, she would still cherish whatever memories they made.

Harry kisses her sweetly for a few minutes, running his hands all over her body, like he had it memorized. Every curve and every dip. y/n kisses his lips passionately. She couldn't stop, she needed it. His lips were softer than anything she's ever known, soft like a first snowball, like biting into cotton candy, like melting and floating and being weightless in water. He was so effortlessly sweet.

y/n and Harry loved having rough sex, and completely ruining each other, but that morning? That morning, Harry made love to her until she could call out his name in her dreams and reach for him in her sleep. Until she could think of no one and nothing beyond the touch of his hand, the caress of his lips. Their bodies intertwined and souls entwined as they drowned in each other. 

It was like he knew this wasn’t going to happen for a while.

Later, they took a walk around the streets of Lupton, Arizona, where they had made their stop last night. They walked hand in hand, looking at the different shops on the streets, people going to work in their morning rush and children boarding school buses. They got some delicious chilaquiles for breakfast. A dish consisting of corn tortillas that are fried, cooked in salsa and sprinkled with cheese. They were served with eggs and beans.

Three hours and thirty minutes would be the travel time today. y/n thought this road trip idea would be horrible at first, but now, she didn't want it to end. Traveling to different places with Harry was so much fun.

"Are you remembering things?", y/n asks Harry as she sees him look outside the window, observing every little stall and the streets.

"Yes.", Harry replies, and she nods. "Where..where exactly are we going y/n?"

"Um, there's a great coffee shop on the way, just twenty minutes before New Mexico. I thought to make a stop there."

That was the location Romania had told her to get him to.

"Coffee shop..", he mumbles. "These roads seem familiar. I think we took it quite often."

"Yeah?", she asks, even though she had that information already.

She stays quiet, letting Harry put all the pieces together that were slowly coming back to him. 

When they were near the location, y/n thinks Romania sent her the wrong address or something, because all she could see was an empty huge ground.

"Let me see, maybe I got the directions wrong-"

"No, you're right. There's the coffee shop." She looks up as Harry points to a distance. She squints and sure enough sees a small shed. It was a short walk away.

"Oh, great. Let's go get some coffee if it’s still open.", she mumbles nervously, and gets out before Harry studies her face. They start walking towards the abandoned shop, and she lets Harry walk forward, lingering behind him so she could call Romania.

She didn't answer the call, and she rolled her eyes. If her idea was to throw them in the middle of nowhere, it was working. Harry was standing a few feet away from the shop, staring at it.

"Harry?", she asks, coming up behind him. "What happened?"

"I remember everything.", he whispered, and turned to her. "This was where we had the accident and the fight."

y/n nods, eyes moving to the shop, and something strikes. The windows. They were broken, and stained. Wait..was that blood? She steps closer to look at it. Sure enough there was shattered glass falling inside the shop, and blood stained the walls. She takes a step inside, feeling shivers climb up her spine. She gasps when she realizes.

This was the exact same place in her repeated dreams. 

She grabs Harry’s arm, heart hammering in her chest. "H-Harry, this is the place in m-my dreams..", she tells him, frantic.

"Yes, it is. I know.", Harry had no surprise. "Everything looks the same from five years ago."

"Why did I see this in my dream?", she asks him, confused. Harry's eyes ran over her face. "You tell me, y/n."

He said her name like he was mocking her.

"Harry.", she squeezes his arm. "W-What’s going on?”

He said he remembered everything. Did he remember something that suddenly made him change his tone towards her? Was he the old Harry again? She tried to figure it out through his eyes and demeanor, but he remained calm, and expression neutral.

"It's not me who has to remember.", Harry speaks and his eyes were staring at hers like he could read her soul. "Please stop playing this game."

"W-What game? Harry.", y/n gets scared now. "I-I'm not your enemy, I only tried to help you remember, and now you do. I-I know what you are capable of doing, but you wouldn’t do that now. I-I know who you are."

He cracks a smile, which soon turns into a grin and then he bursts into laughter. "You realize how silly you sound?"

y/n didn't understand what he was doing. "Harry, some people made me befriend you to get you to remember the things that happened five years ago. I-I did this for them, they agreed to give me money that I needed for Uncle Luke's treatment and a better home, and-" She takes in a breath, feeling her heart race at abnormal speed. "-I shouldn't have done it, I-I didn't mean to do this to you Harry. But whatever we had is true-"

"Shut up!"Harry spits out, his voice echoing through the empty ground and her lips pressed together as she takes one step away from him. She deserved it. He has the right to be angry at her.

"Whatever we had, huh?", he mocks. "I was blind. I was blindly in love with you and you betrayed me."

"I didn't betray you-"

She watches as a bunch of cars enter the ground. All the same. Black SUVs. There were five cars, and a white sedan behind it all. She figured it was Romania.

"See, those were the people who made me do this. I only followed what they told me to do, this trip, everything.", she tries to explain to Harry. People step out of the car. Men in black suits, each having a rifle. She recognised some of the men, they were involved in the fight that day. From one of the cars stepped out Romania and Oliver.

"R-Romania tell him, tell him you told me to do everything.", she tells her. Romania walks to stand in front of the men, folding her arms and looking at them. She didn't speak.

"Why did you do it?", Harry talks, making her look back at him. His eyes were blazing. "Why did you go behind my back? I was with you through everything. We were partners. I know you didn't do it for money, I know you didn't do it to become the number one. All of the memories we had..what was everything for? You were just a traitor in the end, Reagen."

Reagen? Why did he call her Reagen?

"I played this fucking game for you! It was killing me inside, acting like I don't remember anything, acting like I just met you for the first time in my life!", Harry shouts, tears clouding his eyes. "I-I believed there was a reason. There had to be something. You wouldn't have done that to me for nothing. T-Tell me why, Reagen, please. Why did you want me dead?"

She realizes everything with a chill. R-Reagen? Did they think she was Reagen? They were out of their minds. Harry played the game? He knew everything that happened five years ago. He was acting to get her..to get her to remember?

All the small hints he had dropped came to her mind. Since the very first day she saw him. He had known who she was the moment he saw her in that bar.

He lifted his head up suddenly and looked straight at her, like he knew she had been watching him. Their eyes connected for a second, before he looked away.

He knew how she painted, because he had seen it before.

The colors.", he answers, looking away from her again. "They have a hidden meaning, most of the time. The artist might not even have an idea when they start, but it turns out beautiful when they're done. Like they gave life to it."

The familiar feeling of his hand, of his arms, the feeling of safety and warmth.

He chose her drink in the bar because he already knew what she liked.

"I do like it.", she decides, taking another sip. "How did you know?"

"Just like that.", he shrugs.

All the times he asked her about her dream, trying to get her to figure out what they were about. He already knew what they were about.

"I-I..I don't believe in it."

"In love?", y/n asks, and he nods, bringing his hand back and looking at her with those beautiful eyes. "Do you believe in love y/n?"

y/n nods. "Of course. Love is like this overwhelming sentiment that keeps you up all night and makes you feel like a little child waiting for Christmas day. The feeling of having a soulmate and a place you can really call home, that sounds promising."

Harry's eyes ran over soft features, as he spoke, "You sound like you have been in love."

y/n laughs, biting into a cookie. "Nah, me? I talk too much, and I'm weird. Who would want to love me?"

"There might be someone.", Harry whispered softly.

All the times he got things right about her. She thought he was just very observant. But no, he had known everything about her. She had been his once before.

She remembers all his words. "You drive me fucking crazy. Why are you doing this to me? You’re mine, you've always been mine. 

“You're mine and you'll always be mine."

"I've always loved you and I'll always love you."

"I'm so sorry."

She didn't even know who she was. She sees the hurt in Harry's eyes. She hated to see him like that, but she didn't know how to fix it.

"I'm not R-Reagen.", y/n cries, shaking her head. "Harry I'm sorry, I-I'm not Reagen. I'm y/n."

Harry closes his eyes, looking away. "You are Reagen. Y-You have no idea what I've been through in these five years. I..I'm done, I can't anymore."

She didn't understand anything. "H-Harry, I-I don't know anything..I don't know..", she cries. She wanted to cry into his chest, wanted him to pull her into his safe arms and console her. Tell her it was all just a bad dream.

A man walks up to Harry with a tray. It had a few rings, a chain and a few cigarattes. Harry takes the rings and puts them on his fingers. H and S.

Harry Styles.

He put on the chain, it had a silver cross pendant, much like the cross tattoo he had on his hand. He took the cigarette last, keeping it between his lips. The other man puts the lighter to it, and Harry takes a blow.

"Your time is up, Reagen. Four weeks is over.", Romania says, taking a step towards her.

"You bloody bitch, you did this to me-" She raised her hand to slap her, and someone grabs her wrists, pinning it to her back, and she yelps in pain as the person behind her kicks her behind the knee, making her drop to her knees.

"Don't make it worse for you.", she hears in ear and recognizes the voice. "S-Sania?”

Was she in on it too? The person she thought was her best friend? What were these people going to do to her?

Harry turns back to her, and pulls out the small velvet box.

"You already saw what's in this, right?", he asks her, and she sniffles. "It was for you.", he says, and crouches down to her. He opens the box, showing her the beautiful ring he had bought for Reagen, five years ago. "You ruined everything for what? Why did you try to kill me? You have one final chance to remember and spit out the truth. I have been so patient, but a man runs out of patience."

She sobs, shaking her head. She tried to remember, she only got glimpses of her dream. She didn't know anything else.

"Harry, please believe me, I-I don't know anything.", she whispers, and he throws away the ring and the box.

"Don't do this to me, Reagen.", he said in his deep voice, coming closer to her and she gasped, trying to pull her head back but Sania grabbed her hair. "Don't move.”, she snarls in her ear. 

She was shaking. She was terrified. y/n didn't even trust her own thoughts at this point. She was going to die. If she was Reagen, they were going to kill her. That was what Romania told her, if Harry didn't remember, we would have to kill him. They were fooling her by mentioning Harry, it was herself they were talking about.

She feels her heart shatter as she identifies the man who gets out of the wide sedan. He wore an expensive black suit, his beard was trimmed, hair was kept. He stood tall and straight, not at all looking sick and frail. 

"U-Uncle Luke..", y/n looks at the person she thought was her Uncle Luke. He gives her a sad smile. "I tried to warn you, darling."

“You know, while I was making tea yesterday, I put in salt instead of sugar?"

"Oh god. That must have tasted horrible."

"My point is, y/n, don't trust everything you see or hear. You can't even differentiate salt from sugar if you don't look carefully."

He knew everything. Sania knew everything. Everyone she ever knew in her life was involved in this game, or whatever this was.

She was the clown.

"Y-You're all fucking evil.", she says in spite, and groans when she feels Sania’s grip on her hair tighten. 

"Sania, step away.", Harry snaps at her, crouching down, and she immediately releases her, making her fall into Harry's arms. "She's mine to ruin."

"Harry, please..", y/n whispers to him. Why did she think that Harry could save her from this?

"You think I wanted it to end this way?", Harry asks her, holding her face and brushing her hair back with his gentle fingers. "I tried everything for it not to."

She sobs in his arms, and he reaches a hand to his back pocket, pulling out something. A gun. y/n shook with fear as he moved his other hand to the back of her head, holding her there as he pressed the gun to her forehead. The cold metal of the gun grazed her skin.

"You should know what it feels like to be betrayed by people you love.", Harry whispers. "Everyone told me to let it go, to kill you and bury you and forget that you ever existed. But I refused to believe it. I didn't want to believe that you were just a traitor. But I guess I was wrong, I've failed."

She closes her eyes as the gun presses into her head. "H-Harry.."

"Friends also betray you.", he grumbles.

"Have you been betrayed by a friend or a close one?", y/n asks.

"I don't remember.", he snaps, motioning for the bartender to fill up his drink.

This is how she's going to die. One shot to the head. She would be shot to death by the person whom she thought she loved. Her whole life was a lie. y/n didn't know how to feel. She didn't know her own identity. She felt lost in this world. She was already dead inside, he might as well just pull the trigger and end her misery. There was nothing she cared about anymore. She wasn't even sure if her name was y/n.

Was she really Reagen?

y/n waited for the sound of the gun when it cracked open her skull. Would death hurt?

No, she didn't think anything could hurt her more than everything she's just been through. Her heart was already bleeding and her brain was fried.

Harry couldn't pull the trigger. As he saw her shaking in front of him, tears running down her cheeks, escaping her closed eyelids and despite everything she's done to him in the past, despite her trying to kill him, Harry couldn't even hurt her. Then how could he kill her?

He pushed her away with a grunt, and y/n falls on the ground, bruising her elbows on the sand.

 "Harry.", Romania says in a warning tone. 

"Get her inside.", Harry gets up and turns away from her.

Romania and Sania look at each other at Harry's mood change.

"Want me to kill her for you boss?", one of the men asks.

"No.", Harry's voice was deep and clear, like anyone who dared to question him would be dead in one second.

"Harry, we agreed on this. You cannot fall for her stupid act, did you forget what she's capable of?", Romania grabs his arm as he starts to walk away.

"I know very well, Pelt. Do you have a problem following directions? Get her inside the car, Oliver. Take her with you.", he looks at the man standing with Luke. y/n thought Oliver was the only one giving her a sympathetic look. But she couldn't believe that either. He probably didn't care about her.

Oliver nods, going to y/n.

Romania gives the others a look behind Harry's back as he walks to the white sedan parked for him.

"Can we have our way with her back in the quarters? She might confess something-”

y/n shrinks into herself as she hears the shot. Harry had shot the man who said that, straight in his heart. He falls with a thud, blood oozing out of his chest. No one dared to speak again, or go close to the fallen man.

"New recruitment?", Harry looks at Romanina who nods. "You're getting sloppy. Another one like that and the bullet will be through your head."

"I'm sorry.", she mumbles, embarrassed and looking down at her feet.

"Get up.", Oliver grabs y/n's arm and pulls her up. She watches as Luke opens the door for Harry and he gets in. Everyone else starts getting into their cars too. 

"Hands behind your back.", Oliver tells y/n, and she doesn't protest. She had seen enough. He kept her wrists together behind her back, and handcuffed them. "Walk.", he nods to one of the only two cars left.

"Keep a hand on her Olie, she'll make a run for it.", she hears Sania. y/n was going to open her mouth to tell her something in a very colorful language, but Oliver beats her to it. 

"Enough Sania, clean that up.", Oliver grumbles to her, pointing to the dead body.

"Of course, I get all the dirty work.", Sania sighs, and waves to the two men remaining. "You heard the man."

Oliver opens the door for her, and ushers her inside his suv. "Don't try anything.", he warns, warm brown eyes looking into hers. One side of y/n's face was covered in sand, her bruise had opened up and was bleeding lightly again. Her head was pounding and her knees were aching.

"Do you think I can?", she scoffs, uncomfortable with the handcuffs. "Can you take it off?"

"No.", he simply says, classic Oliver.

She sighs as he slams the door and goes to the driver's seat. y/n looks outside at the unfamiliar streets. She had to be living in a dream, or an illusion. This couldn't be true.

Every time she thought about Harry, her chest burned. The hurt in his eyes was real, the sadness in his eyes as he begged her to remember was real. She knew that wasn't part of the act. Why would she ever try to kill him? She closes her eyes, trying to go back to the bits she remembered from the dream.

The blood, the broken windows, the gun shot. It hurt too much to think about the last four weeks. No, scratch that, her whole life. Now she wondered how long she was living in that play? Was it her whole life really? Or was it five years? Was it lesser than that?

Oliver looks at her from the rear view mirror. "Stop crying, it's not going to help and it's annoying."

y/n stares at him. "Nothing's going to help, so let me at least cry before you're going to kill me."

"You won't be killed if you remember what happened and tell Harry what he needs to know.", Oliver mumbles, eyes back on the road.

"I'm curious to know too, I'll let you know when it strikes.", she mutters, sniffling. Oliver sighs. "Sorry. For the acting."

"Fuck you."

He cracked a smile to her surprise. Oliver had the ability to smile?

"Enjoying my misery? You're all a bunch of sadists.", she tells him.

"I smiled because that sounded like the Reagen I know.", Oliver explains.

She remembers the emotion in his voice on their first morning. When he told her to bring his best friend back. 

"You were my best friend? Not Harry's?", she asks, and he nods.

"Then why are you doing this to me, Oliver?"

Oliver doesn't answer immediately, he takes a deep breath. "What did I do? I never lied to you, neither did Hans. I said I want my best friend back, and that was about you. Too bad you didn't understand. And now, I'm just following Harry's orders. I have to."

"Why?"

"I owe him, he saved someone I love.", Oliver grumbles. "He's a bastard. We had a deal, and I can't do anything but listen to him. I liked you, you were the only one who understood me and you tried to help me."

"You know things.", y/n says, studying his face. "Do you know why I tried to kill Harry?"

"I'm not sure, but you did talk to me the night before that.", Oliver says. "You were angry. You never told me what was wrong, but you sounded strange. I remember. You were scared."

His eyes meet mine. "And Reagan never got scared."

"E-Everything you told me about Reagen and Harry..it's true?"

"Yes.", Oliver nods. "You were there for him when he was lost, you taught him a lot of things, Reagen. He's a dick, but I don't think he'll ever put your life on line. He didn't want to be the best, he didn't want to lead the gang. He was forced to, after your accident. He liked being the secret weapon. He looked up to you. So I have no idea why you wanted to kill him. You could have been blackmailed. I don't know, you have to remember that."

"I-I remember glimpses of the fight, but nothing more, Oliver.", she whispers. "I really can't."

"It'll come back, it has to.", Oliver takes a sharp left to wherever they were going. "You have time. Harry's not gonna kill you..yet."

"That's very reassuring.", she says sarcastically. "Where are you taking me now?"

"I'm following the car in front of me, but I think we're going to Marco's. One of the gang's um..let's say inside source. Harry has some information."

"Is he going to kill me there?"

"No.", Oliver smiles. "He's too emotional right now to make a decision, he'll take some time."

"S-Sania and Unc-", she cuts herself off. "Luke. They're your people?"

"Yes. He isn't really your uncle."

“And Hans? Is he also mean like Romania and Sania?”

“No. You were like a sister to Hans. He’s holding the fort down at the headquarters right now.”

Oliver pulls up with the other cars and jumps out to open your door. "Sorry about the handcuffs, they're all too scared of you. Reagen can still kill all of us and get the hell out of here if she decides to, handcuffs or not.", Oliver tells her as he looks at her.

"Are you telling me to try and make a run for it?"

"Not now."

Not now?

"Bring her out Oliver.", she hears Romania's poison-filled voice.

"Get out.", Oliver yanks on her arm roughly, and she whimpers as he pulls her out of the car. Romania was giving her a disgusting look. She was jealous, y/n confirms. She probably loved Harry but he clearly hated her.

Some of the men immediately filed on the sides, guns drawn out and eyes on her back, like they were waiting for her to make a move.

"All those for me?", she whispers to Oliver.

"Reagen would need more.", he whispers back, and clears his throat when Sania joins her other side. "How was the ride?", she asks.

"You fucking bitch, don’t talk to me.", she says through gritted teeth and Sania chuckles. "You thought I was the easy one, huh? I played my part the best, Olie here couldn't even look at you."

"You don't know shit, Sania.", he said back. Sania just grins, and they enter a big house. It was like a palace. y/n sees a massive pool right in the front. She would have loved to take a dip, under normal circumstances. She saw Harry marching up first, into the house. The other men again stand in two lines beside them.

"Why are you dragging me inside?", she asks Oliver.

"Quiet.", he said in return and she rolled her eyes. Sania stood outside. Romania went in behind Harry, Oliver by her side as they walked in too.

Harry was already sitting on the big white couch, talking to another man. He was shirtless, his big belly resting on top of white pants. He had a woman by his side. She was just in a lacy black bra and thongs. She sat next to him, hand rubbing up and down his arm.

Gross, y/n thought.

"Nice to see you again, Romania, Oliver. Oh my god, is that who I think it is?", the man looks at her with a gasp, his Mexican accent thick.

"Harry, you didn't tell me! Reagen Jones, it's been a while.", the man says to her with a big smile. She couldn't bother to smile back.

"She lost her memory.", Romania explains to him with an apologetic smile.

"Oh! I thought you can finally pick up your business now that Reagen's back. You know she's the real backbone Harry.", he tells Harry who swirls the drink around in his glass. "You're all roughed up Reagen dear, why is she in cuffs?"

"She's a threat to everyone until she remembers things.", Harry answers.

"I've rumors that you tried to kill Harry. You're the woman, Reagen.", Marco tells you with a grin.

"Wouldn't that be convenient for you.", Harry leans forward. "Why did you call us here?"

"I had a lead for you, on Tony.", Marco says.

"Where is he?", Harry asks, taking a puff from his cigarette. His shirt sleeves had been rolled back so his tattooed arms were visible.

"He's in Italy, here’s the exact location.", Marco passes him a piece of paper. Harry takes a look at it, smirks and hands it to Romania. "What do you think Romania?”

"Give me one minute to cross check, Boss." Romania pulls her phone out.

"Cross check what? It is the right address!", Marco said, and y/n could make out a little panic in his voice.

"Yes, it’s the same one.", Romania tells Harry and Harry laughs, making Marco frown. "You already knew?"

"You think you're so clever, don't you?", Harry asks. "I found out that you switched to Tony's side when he offered you a better deal. To spy on us. You think you can outsmart me?"

Marco gave him a sly smile, but there was a bit of fear behind it. "I don't know what you're talking about, Styles."

"Sure you don't. I know what's waiting for me if I believe you and go to find Tony. They've sprung a big trap there for me. My men have already checked it all out. Nice try of killing me, but you knew better than to try, Marco.", Harry snarls.

Marco chuckles, patting the girl's thigh and she gets up, going inside. "You're already dead inside, Harry. I hoped that you would end in the accident, I wasn't happy to hear that you survived. But then I got to know that you weren't the same. You died the day that Reagen betrayed you."

Harry moved, sleek as a panther as he grabbed the knife the girl was using to slice up the apples, and he moved behind Marco, arm wrapping around his head in a headlock, as the other hand held the knife to his throat. "You do talk a lot, Marco. That's what always got you into trouble. Do you know what we do to traitors?"

Harry looks straight at y/n, and she watches in horror as Harry stabs the knife in his throat. He didn't so much as flinch. Harry's eyes burned into hers, and she imagined herself being in Marco's place.

Marco's men immediately pointed guns at Harry.

"Drop your weapons or you'll all have the same fate as poor Marco here.", Romania orders. She, Sania and Oliver pulled out their guns too.

Harry breaks eye contact with y/n finally, pushing Marco down from the couch so he falls on the floor, red coating the white tiles. He was dead. Harry storms out, looking like a lion who just had his prey.

y/n flinches as shots are fired, and Oliver ducks her head down, quickly pulling her outside. He drags her back to the car. Harry was washing his blood stained hands.

"Stay here.", Oliver tells her, leaning her against the car. He went to talk to Harry, giving him a towel to wipe his hands. Harry nods and says something to him before getting in his car.

He was a monster. 

y/n saw him kill two people in less than two hours. This was the same man who cuddled her when she had a nightmare, kissed her ever so sweetly, made love with her, treated her injury and held an umbrella for her so she wouldn't get wet in the rain.

He looked so fierce, and so angry, he could do anything. Only a matter of time before he slices her own throat. She wasn't very scared though. Maybe death will treat her better. 

She remains quiet as Oliver drives her somewhere else. The sky was painted in hues as the sun set. She leaned her head on the window and shut her tired eyes.

"Reagen! Stop it!", she hears Harry as she pushes him to the wall. Harry had a cut on his cheek, blood flowing down from his skin. "Why are you doing this? We have gold in our car, Reagen, we have to go. Why are you fighting me?"

"Shut up!" She punches him square in the jaw. Harry groans, bringing a hand to his nose. "Fuck. What happened? Did someone tell you something about me?"

Harry still didn't make a move as she kneed his abdomen, making him bend over with pain. "I-I trusted you Harry.", she whispers, tears falling out of her eyes. Another kick to his stomach makes him fall on his knees. "You're j-just a liar."

"I never lied to you about anything baby please-" His head falls to the side as she punches his jaw.

"I-I have to kill you, Harry.", she whispers, taking her gun out and pointing it at him.

"You h-have to?", Harry looks up at her, blood oozing out of his nose and his lips, but his eyes held hope. "That means someone is forcing you, isn't it? Reagen, we'll take them down. Who are you doing this for? I'm y-your partner, why would you kill me?"

She lets out a sob, pressing the gun to his throat as she kneels down to his height. "S-Stop talking."

"Put away the gun Reagen.", Harry whispers, taking her hands with his shaking ones. "I-It's okay, I've got you."

"I-I trusted you.", she repeats, and before she could pull the trigger, Harry flips her so she lies on the ground, and he disarms her gun, twisting her hands behind her back. "I didn't do anything, Reagen, please. Stop whatever you're doing."

"Let me go!", she screams, and Harry pushes her head down further, applying pressure to her lower back. "Not until you tell me what this is about. Who’s threatening you darling?”

"W-We're gonna die if we don't get out of here.", she strains out.

"What do you mean?"

"T-There's going to be an explosion, to kill you.", she cries, not being able to do it. She couldn’t just lead him to his death.

"Fuck.", Harry curses, and gets up, pulling her up. "Let's get out of here."

"N-No, I can't. You have to d-die or t-they'll.." She pushes Harry to the small stall, she was supposed to get him inside it.

"They'll what? Reagen, please. We'll figure it out. You don't want to do this.", Harry resists, and she gets dragged with him to the stall. There were people going after the gold in their car, she could hear them arguing and shots being fired.

"I love you, I'll kill whoever’s making you do this, sunshine, let's get out of here.", Harry croaks as she pushes his collar towards the entrance of the small stall.

"I-It's too late Harry, I'm sorry-"

Everything blew up. The bomb went off and everything went black.

__________________________________________

Taglist: @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan

Let me know if you want me to add your names to my tag list! There will be a last chapter to Traitor-The Present and that's going to keep you at the edge of your seats as you read it. Please ask away if you have any questions about this fic, or anything else, I'd love to talk to you guys. Thanks for reading!

[farfromstrange]

Customer Service | Matt Murdock

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!reader

Summary: After a particularly rough week, all you want to do is cry. It has you on edge and makes you say things you don’t mean. After letting out your anger on your boyfriend, he makes it his mission to take care of you for a change.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), Matt Murdock eats pussy like a champ, fingering, squirting (I feel filthy), emotional hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, no pronouns, reader has female body parts, 1st person pov (?)

a/n: As someone who quit their job in customer service for the exact same reasons I have stated in this fic, this is very personal to me and self-indulgent, again. I wrote this after a particularly bad day. Sometimes I wish Matt were real so he could actually do this to me.

There is nothing in all of existence that I loathe more than people. Why I chose to work in customer service in the first place has become more and more of a mystery to me. I could have quit after the first week, I should have, but whenever the thought crosses my mind, I tell myself: ‘It’s going to get better. You will get used to it.’ I did not, in fact, get used to it. Or, I did, I just started to hate myself even more. Every day I get home from an eight-hour shift, I’m tired, I’m exhausted and I feel the desperate need to throw myself off a cliff. 

There are days when it’s easier. The elderly couple who comes in every Sunday, for example, to drink their coffee and have a lengthy conversation over a piece of cake, never fails to make me smile. They’re always kind, and forthcoming and they tip, even though I know they don’t have the money to.

Or the woman who likes to pick up lunch for her husband, she always calls me sweetheart, and she’s never bothered if her order takes just a little too long. The regulars chat me up and I like it because it makes me feel less alone behind the counter, as life passes me by and I can’t help to stare at the clock every five minutes to calculate how many hours of the day are left. They make it easier to forget about the overtime I inevitably have to put in every night. They know I don’t eat enough or smile enough or drink enough, and so they make me smile because they’re good people. 

But some continuously want to tell me how to do my job, the one I’ve given blood and sweat for to master down to the smallest detail, and those who treat me like I’m responsible for their bad days and those who don’t care that I’m human, I just have to serve.

It’s so exhausting that some people don’t care about the workers behind the counter. I hate that my boss doesn’t seem to care either, that we don’t get paid enough, and that I’m expected to jump whenever they want me to. I got a life too, but that doesn’t matter because I’m cheap and they love to use those who never learned how to say no.

I physically can’t tell them I can’t work whenever I’m asked to pick up an extra shift, or when I’m sick or have to do anything else. It��s not even my main occupation and yet, here I am! Every day, I tell myself, I should just quit. It’s not my responsibility if they can’t treat their employees right. It’s not my responsibility they’re understaffed. I’m a student, I go to college, and I’m working hard on my degree - why should I prioritize my job over the thing that will determine the rest of my life? 

And yet, every day, I go back. I go back and I work until my feet hurt and I’m sick and I’m tired and all I want to do is just cry. I go back because I, for the life of me, can’t say no. I can’t quit. I want to, but I can’t, and it’s killing me inside that I can’t talk about it the way I want to. In the end, I will always feel like everything is my fault and that I messed up, even though all I did was show up to work and turn into everyone’s punching bag. 

My stupidity is what got me here. Usually, I would be home now, studying, but they asked me to pick up a late shift at the cafè again, and I worked for seven hours with only a fifteen-minute break in between - I look horrible, I smell of coffee and cake, and my body is hurting in all the wrong places. The weight is heavy in my stomach. I’m nauseous. I ate, but not enough. I’m hungry. I feel sick. Even the smallest sounds make me want to jump up the wall, kill someone, or perhaps even both. I’m angry, and I don’t even fucking know why because nothing happened. Other than a rather messy day with too much to do and too few people to do the work, the people weren’t even rude and I’ve had worse days - still, I feel everything at once and it’s ridiculous, really, because I’m an adult and I should know better than to let a rough day affect me. I don’t. 

When he called and asked if I wanted to come over, I said yes. I didn’t want to, but saying no? Not something I would do, especially not to him. I walked into his apartment with a lump already in my stomach. The door creaked - God, I told him to oil it - and that was the first strike. I tossed my key into the bowl and it promptly fell back out. Second strike. My coat slipped from the hanger the second I hung it up. Third strike. I breathed, I had to, then went to the kitchen to make some dinner. Cooking usually works, usually, but the day must have gotten to me because the fourth strike - the fucking milk being expired - happened way too soon and it hit me, hard. After that, I was pretty much done for, and I knew, I just chose to ignore it. 

Of course, I should have known I would screw up everything else, too.

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is kind and soft in my ear as he presses a kiss to my cheek. His stubble has never been something to bother me before until that very moment. I flinch away, not sure why. If he realized it - which I’m sure he did - he doesn’t show. 

“Smells good,” he says. 

I put the garlic into the pan. It smells too much like garlic and I hate it. 

“What you making?”

“Pasta,” I tell him. 

He kisses me again. “Mh-hm. How was your day?” the question is stupid, but it’s normal and he always asks. He gets himself a beer - only himself - removes the cap with his mouth and then leans against the counter. 

He shouldn’t infuriate me. He shouldn’t make me angry just by standing there and asking me questions couples ask themselves, but inevitably, he does. And I hate myself all the more for the way my voice sounds when I answer him. 

“Fine,” I say. 

“Fine?” he asks. “How was work?” I feel like he’s getting suspicious. “You only had two lectures today, right? English lit and what was the other one?”

“Linguistics.”

“Ah, yes. Your least favorite.”

Perhaps that’s why I’m angry. 

“You know,” he says and the tangent he goes on after revolves around him and only him, and while I don’t like talking about myself, that doesn’t mean he has to unload all of his stress on me - I don’t know why I think that way and it’s scaring me because I don’t actually feel that way, but at that moment I do and it’s all very confusing.

I just want to lock myself in his bedroom and cry. He looks so good with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. He’s wearing his glasses, still, but his tie is loosened and he smiles because he knows I love that smile. I should love it. I should love the way his muscles tense underneath his shirt or the way his dress pants hang impossibly low on his hips, but for the first time, I don’t. I don’t love anything, I just feel anger, which makes me hate everything, but mostly myself. 

I must have zoned out. Suddenly, he’s calling my name and he’s calling me sweetheart and he’s poking me with his hands - no, he’s stroking my hips, hugging me from behind, and it’s all too much. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lie. He knows I’m lying. He can hear it in my heartbeat. He can feel it in the way I move away from him to rinse the now-empty pan in the sink. 

How is the food already finished?

“You didn’t listen to a word I just said,” he dares to sound offended. 

“No, I did.”

“Really, what did I say?”

“You and Foggy had a case, didn’t go well, bla bla bla. Same as every day.”

He sets the bottle down. “Alright, sweetheart, what’s wrong? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Oh, so just because I don’t care about hearing the same story repeat itself every day and you whining about it means there’s something wrong with me?”

He’s taken aback. Quite frankly, I’ve never snapped at him before, not like this, not out of nowhere, and we’ve been dating for over a year. With his super senses, there is little that eludes the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, especially when it comes to his girlfriend. I hate that it’s like this. I hate not having any privacy, even when I try to. But I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want privacy. Or, I think. I don’t even know what I want. I know I want to be around him, but at the same time, it hurts because the anger is too damn hot to swallow, and his concern doesn’t make it any better. It should be, but it’s not. I’m a lost cause. 

“I was just telling you about my day,” he says. I would yell back at myself if I were him, but he knows me. He knows yelling doesn’t help. He knows I’d cry, but maybe that’s what I want. Maybe I want him to yell just so I have a valid reason to cry, to be angry. 

I want him to hate me the way I hate myself. 

That’s why I can’t help it anymore. “Maybe I don’t want to hear about your day.”

“What?”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Matthew!”

He’s confused. I don’t blame him. The second the words left my mouth, I regret them. They make me sound like the most selfish person on the whole planet. I can’t take them back though. If I did, he’d know something is wrong and then he’d worry, he’d pity me and no, I don’t want that. I want to rile him up. I’m not sure why, but it makes me so angry that he’s so calm and I’m… well, I’m me, but I’m also not me. I’m a stranger in my own body. 

I put the pasta in a bowl. It stinks of alcohol and tomatoes and garlic, too much of it. I wonder how anyone could eat that. 

“Here,” I shove it into his hand, “You’ve been served. I’m gonna take a shower.”

I’m a bad person. I’m pretty sure I am. Who yells at their boyfriend because they can’t deal with their own problems? Who makes the person they love more than life itself feel like shit on purpose for no reason whatsoever? A sane person wouldn’t. We have never been a normal couple, Matthew and I, but we’re trying. Turns out, I suck much more than I thought I would.

It’s not the age gap, I’m sure of it. I’m in my last year as an English Major and he’s a defense attorney. Somehow, we make it work. He loves me, I know he does. He’s afraid of rejection - he thinks everyone he loves will leave him, which is why it took us a while to find together. I should have known my words were going to hurt him unimaginably. He thinks he did something wrong, but it’s not him. It’s never him. He’s damaged, but he’s nothing if not perfect to me, most of the time. 

I’m heavily crying at this point, trying to conceal my sobs, but it’s not working. The water is loud, not loud enough to fool Matt’s hearing, but even if he were to hear it, he knows better than to provoke me any further. He doesn’t know what’s going on and neither do I, so it’s just the two of us silently waiting for the other to come around. He shouldn’t have to feel that way. And so I cry more because God, I do not deserve that man. I don’t deserve his kindness or his love. I don’t. I really, really don’t. 

And once I’m out of the bathroom, I remember why I don’t deserve him. 

The table is set for two. Candles substitute for the harsh ceiling light. He knows it gives me headaches sometimes. He put a bowl out for me and a glass of wine. White wine. The sweet kind. The kind he hates but keeps around in case I ever need a glass. He’s drinking red wine. It’s cheap, but it looks expensive and he likes to feel special from time to time. 

I hug my arms around my body. He has his back turned to me, fixing a salad in the kitchen - I must have forgotten it. The way he moves is almost angelic. He moves as if nothing happened, as if I didn’t just treat him like a bitch. He’s singing my favorite song or humming it, anyway. The room smells of him and me and the food I loathed before, but watching him do all of this for me, even now, is sucking the air out of my lungs and suddenly, I don’t mind the thought of eating with him.

I only want one thing. I don’t want to ask for it and he’s not going to do anything unless I talk. We agreed on that from the beginning, no matter what kind of intimacy it involves. Without consent or a proper conversation, nothing will happen. And I curse myself for not being able to speak without the tears blocking my view again. 

“There’s a sweater on the couch,” he states. He knows I’m cold. “And some fuzzy socks, if you want.”

The clothes smell like him. 

“I put some more salt in the pasta. I think you forgot to salt the water, so I took it upon myself. I hope you don’t mind. Also, I tried to make your favorite salad dressing, but I’m not sure if I managed to get it right this time.”

He smiles and then his glasses are gone and he has an apron on and he looks like he loves me, really loves me, and that’s it. I pull my legs up to my chest, falling deep into the couch and I cry. All the pain just comes exploding out of me like an active volcano. 

The leather dents next to me. “Comfort or solution?” he asks. It’s so casual, I get the feeling he’s not mad at me. 

“I don’t know,” it sounds so broken.

His arm finds around my shoulder. “Is this okay?” I can only nod. Yes.

He moves me gently so I’m in his lap and he can rock me like a baby. It feels good to be loved like this, but it’s also suffocating. Still, I can’t help but fall deeper into his hold because this is, in fact, all I needed. Too stubborn to ask for it, I almost ruined something good. I know I did. He knows, too, but unlike me, he knows the difference between me being mad at him and being mad at the world. He knows I don’t mean what I say unless we’re fighting, and this isn’t it. We’re not fighting. I’m just angry and I want to cry, even while crying, and that makes me cry even more. 

“You want to talk about it?” he asks once I can finally breathe again. 

I blow my nose like a disgusting person and say, “Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe.” And that about sums up all of my life. 

“Is it school?”

I shake my head. If it’s not school, it can only be one other thing. 

“Work?”

I nod. 

“Anything happen or just a bad day?”

“Bad day.”

“That’s why you yelled at me? I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No,” I say truthfully for the first time. “I’m just angry. I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Maybe next time try telling me though. I was actually scared I did something until I heard you cry in the shower.”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I tell him that, to which he only chuckles. 

“You know how many times I acted hostile towards you after a long day?” he says. “It happens. It’s okay.”

“I just… I’m so stressed all the time. I hate work and I hate people and I hate not getting paid enough or on time, but I can’t quit because you know, I’m me and they know that, so they take advantage of my inability to say no, and it sucks because I’m so tired of working more than I go to school, but I need the money, and so I can’t leave until I’ve found another job, but no one else wants me, so now I’m here, trying to see the good in this stupid job, but I don’t. I can’t. I hate it. I hate everything and everyone and I hate myself and I think I’ll get my period soon because this should not be upsetting me this much.”

His hand on my back manages to soothe me. 

“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it.

He smiles down at me, all loopy, and his sightless eyes are focused somewhere on my forehead, which makes everything so much better. 

“I love you.”

And yes, I love him too. I love him so fucking much, it hurts. 

“I love you too, Matty.”

As soon as I say his name, he knows what I want. He knows I need to destress. He knows I can’t eat until I can forget. 

“Is there something I can do?” he asks, but damn him, he already knows. 

“Can you…” no, I can’t ask him for that.

“Yes?”

“Matt, can…” No. “You know what, never mind.”

“No, sweetheart. Tell me. What do you need?”

“I just…” my chest heaves a frustrated groan. “IneedyoutoeatmeoutuntilIcantremembermyname.”

He enjoys it. He gets off on it, my desperation. “Sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t think I did. Can you repeat that?”

“God.” My face is burning. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just, this is the first time you actually asked me and I love hearing you ask for the things you want. It’s sexy.” 

Somehow, that’s even worse. My thighs clench like I’m some pathetic little schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. 

“You know, maybe you can ask for a raise tomorrow, or quit altogether,” he says. “But for that to work, you have to tell me what you want right now.”

“I asked you to eat me out until I can’t remember my fucking name!”

“Thank you. Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

If there is one thing Matt Murdock is incredibly skilled with, it’s his mouth. And I don’t just mean the words that come out. Essentially, it’s all in his tongue. He’s managed to render me speechless on more than one occasion, and he knows. He knows I love when he touches me, but there are times when it has to be about me, and only me, and he’d gladly suffocate between my thighs. He’s told me that time and time again.

He keeps telling me to ask him if I want something. I never do. I hate asking for it because it’s embarrassing. It’s good that he knows what he’s doing, that bastard because if he didn’t, I wouldn’t be cumming and I wouldn’t tell him. Somehow he always gets the job done, no matter how stressed I am. 

That’s why I need it so badly. I need him to take care of me, no matter how long it takes. I know it might take a while because I’m tense and he knows too. He reads my body like an open book. That’s how he knows I’m horny before I even do. 

He doesn’t move for another minute. He just stares at me. “You want me to take care of you?” he asks.

“Please,” I beg. 

“Guess I’ll have dessert before dinner today then.”

He lifts my head and then he’s suddenly on top of me. He’s sliding me up the couch so he can fit in between my legs. I’m dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and his sweater and for a second I wonder if it’s even worth it. I’m ovulating, I’m bloated. I feel like shit. My hormones are all messed up. I can feel the weight of my boobs tear on my back and I’m pretty sure the hairs on my legs prickle his cheek as he kisses them. It’s making me want to take back everything I asked of him. 

My confidence has taken a low blow this past week. 

Though Matt doesn’t care, he never does. He digs his nose between my thighs and takes the longest whiff I’ve seen him take in a while. To be fair, the last time we saw each other, he was busy with work. We didn’t have time for intimacy, which hardly ever happens. He moans. 

Smug bastard.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells me. It melts my heart. The compliment means so much more knowing he can’t physically see me. To him, I’m beautiful. He couldn’t care less about what I looked like. Although sometimes I wonder what picture he has made up of me in his mind. 

His lips are on mine fast. I can’t help but sigh. They’re so soft. He doesn’t rush, he just kisses me and then kisses me some more. I tangle my hands in his hair. I’m sure, this is what heaven must be like.

“Let’s take this off.” His sweater joins my shorts on the floor. “May I?” He hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of my panties. “Or do you want me to keep them on?”

I have no doubt he could do it with five layers in between and still make me cum.

“Off,” I say. I want this. I have to remind myself that my insecurities mean nothing – he loves me. He wants to do this for me. He wants to do this because he likes it, or else he would say it. 

Matt is vocal, but I’m not. If he doesn’t want to do something, he’ll say. Can’t say the same about me, which is why he asks repeatedly, even after I already told him it’s okay. He wants to make sure I’m on board, that I don’t feel pressured and can pull out any time I want, but I don’t, because the second the cold air hits my bare cunt, all I want is him. 

I can feel his eyes searching for me. “Hey,” he says my name. “We’re not playing this time, okay? You can cum when you need to and how many times you want to. You just have to lay back and relax. I’ll take care of you.” 

He intertwines our fingers on either side of my spread thighs before he dives into me. It’s slow and steady. He doesn’t care about fucking me with his tongue like he usually does. He licks and bites, but mostly, his tongue and lips stay around my clit and they suck. They suck so good, I see stars behind my eyes. His touch sends shocks down my spine. My sensitive walls clench around thin air, but his head is so far between my thighs, I still manage to feel full. 

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t focus. It feels so good, way too good, and on any other day, I would’ve come by now. His beard burns into the inside of my thigh as I rock against him. I try to, but it’s exhausting. I can feel the coil in my lower belly clear as day, and yet it’s too far out of reach. I need it, I crave it. 

I can hear myself saying, “This could take a while.” And he laughs because he finds it funny. It’s not funny though, it’s serious. I hate the fact that he makes me feel so good and I can’t find it in myself to enjoy. 

“Close your eyes,” his breath fans hot against my folds. “And just stop thinking.” 

He makes it his mission to ruin me. I close my eyes and as soon as I do, he’s on me. It’s not just his mouth. One of our joined hands reaches up to touch my breast – he twists my nipple through the shirt until it’s hard and has his attention. The other reaches behind me and lifts my hips. The next thing I know, he has me propped up on a pillow. The muscles in my lower back relax. I sigh. It’s so good. 

He’s given up on slow and steady. His head moves in circles as he abuses – I don’t have another word for it – my clit and eats the rest of me like a man starved. I realize I need it fast and I need it hard. He knows it before I do. His tongue expertly parts my wet folds, a mix of arousal and spit trickling down my thighs, but I could care less. He’s inside of me and then his thumb is there and it’s rubbing and rubbing and rubbing and I’m so fucking close, the knot in my stomach feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, and it’s applying sweet, sweet pressure on cunt. 

“Fuck!” I throw my head back into the leather. My back arches impossibly high, and his head squished tightly between my thighs. I need him closer. His hair is so soft, it makes me want to cry, and I do. I cry, but not in a sad way. I cry out because yes, God yes! and then I’m cumming, suddenly and without warning, hard, all over his face, and it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop.

The growl is animalistic. It vibrates perfectly through my pussy and I can’t help it – it barely takes two minutes until his lips start hurting so good as they keep sucking my clit, a series of ‘one more’ leaves his lips in a plea, and I’m rocking against him hard. I’m begging him, “Matt,” but I’m not sure what for. 

“C’mon,” he says, “you can give me one more.”

He’s right. God, I hate when he’s right. My toes curl and I push his face so deep into me, I’m convinced he’s running out of air, but that’s what makes him moan and it sends me over the edge.

I’m pretty sure I passed out. The pleasure is so intense, my stomach feels like it’s being torn apart and then put back together. The world is dark and for the first time today, quiet. 

Something nudges my cheek softly. It’s his hand. Matt kisses me and I can taste myself on his lips. “Hey,” he coaxes me back into lucidity. “There you are. Are you okay?”

I nod.

“You need anything?”

It’s a reflex, reaching for him. He gasps slightly when my hand touches between his thighs, expecting to find a visible bulge, but there is none. I’m not sure if it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but there is a visible wet spot where his dick is supposed to be. 

“Did you-“ I finally open my eyes. He looks so drunk in the candlelight. I realize then that he is drunk on me. 

He buries his head in my neck. “You’re not the only one who’s been worked up all week,” he says. 

“You just- oh, my God.” I never thought it possible that it could be enough for him. “Thank you.” 

“No, thank you. You’re always so good to me. Good girl. But I think-“ his finger steals my breath as it circles my entrance and promptly slips it inside of me. “You can cum for me again.” 

I arch into him. My chest brushes against his. Our shirts suddenly feel like too much clothing and I’m desperate, so I tear at the buttons until they come apart. He has his arm back underneath me, holding me flush against him as if he’s afraid I might slip away. 

A wanton moan escapes me. “That’s it,” and his praise is even better. “Think you can take another one?”

He adds a second finger. It burns but only because even after a year, I’m still struggling to take any part of him. His fingers are thick and they’re rough and they’re scratching my inside walls just right. They massage the flesh. He’s pumping his fingers in and out and in and out, and he adds his thumb back on my clit because he knows I won’t be able to cum without it.

All of the stress falls off my shoulders. I feel him everywhere, his kisses, his touch, his hard nipples against mine. He’s hard again, poking against my thigh. I reach for him and he whines, he whines into my mouth. I’m not sure which one of us will come first. I suppose it’s me, it’s always me. He makes sure it will be me.

He hits as deep as he possibly could. His fingers curl inside of me and then, “There it is!” Is so victorious, it makes my eyes roll back. He keeps hitting that particular spot over and over again. My hand clutches his shoulder. I want to scream, but all that comes out is a series of whined and pathetic moans. I can’t help it, my muscles contract around him. 

“Damn, you’re gonna break my fingers,” he says. His chuckle is breathless. “You close?”

I hum.

“Do me a favor,” and I expect him to tell me anything but what he requests, “Don’t cum.” 

It’s rude. It’s cruel and it’s vile and I want to murder him because just as he says it, the coil tightens impossibly tight and I need to let go. It’s painful to hold it in, especially now. But I do as he tells me nonetheless. I want to please him. 

“Matt,” I moan. He’s so unfair and he knows it.

He smirks. “Just hold on a little longer.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. I know you can.”

“St- oh, fuck!” He hits my sweet spot with twice the intensity. I almost cum, but only almost. I keep it together, no matter how much it hurts, and it’s making tears prick at my eyes. “Please, just let me cum,” I hate begging him. “Please, Matty.”

“Shhh. We’re almost there.”

His thumb speeds up. I can see heaven. God is reaching his hand out for me. My stomach is in a tight knot, so tight, the silk might rip any second. The pressure is unreal. My muscles have been trained by him, I admit, but nothing can prepare you for this. Nothing can prepare you for the times when Matt has his mind set on something and he’s going to take it. He’s going to take you. 

I can’t think. It’s too much. I know I’m going to disappoint him. The animal inside of me is beyond satisfied and she wants out. She wants to let go. She loves the feeling of his fingers buried to the hilt inside of her. She loves him, and loving him tends to turn into sweet, sweet torture.

I moan his name again. His cock twitches underneath his dress pants, hot against my fingertips. 

“Almost,” he promises. “I just want to try something.”

What could he possibly want to-

“Cum.”

I’m flying. My back lifts off the couch and if it wasn’t for him, I would be dead by now. My body is shaking. It’s earth-shattering and it’s wet and it’s everywhere. I can feel the orgasm tearing me apart from the inside, blood rushing in my ears. My senses go black. I can’t see, feel or breathe. Everything is too much. It’s burning, it’s heavy, but it’s amazing.

His fingers don’t stop until he has milked the last drop of me until even the last ounce of stress has left my body and I’m limp. I’m a corpse. I’m barely breathing, a wet sack of potatoes in his arms. 

God, the look on his face. He’s cumming too. The wet patch on his pants has doubled. It’s not from me, although I’m suddenly very aware of the fact of what he just made me do.

“Oh.”

“Fuck,” he growls. “That was amazing.”

I never expected to have it in myself. “Oh, Jesus.” My words are highly blasphemous but I don’t care. I’m not even sure how to feel. The blush creeps up my cheeks and I close my legs a little. Everything is so wet. It’s all me and some of him, but mostly me. Just spurts of cum all over his hand and his couch.

He clicks his tongue, shoving my thighs apart. “Don’t go shy on me now,” he says.

“No, it’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? Sweetheart, I’ve never felt more proud of myself.”

“I just- your couch. Oh, God.”

“I’m pretty sure the couch will survive it. Leather is easier to clean. How do you feel?”

I sigh, snuggling against his chest. “Better,” I have to admit. “Much, much better.”

“Good.” He kisses my neck. “Can I have my fingers back now?”

“No.” I like the feeling of him inside of me, even if it’s just his fingers. It makes me feel complete, almost. 

“Okay.” 

“Just gonna rest my eyes now.”

“You do that, sweetie. I’ll be here.” 

And he is. He always is. I wake up, and he’s there, and he always will be because he promised me this is forever. Us. Me and him. And I realize then that I’ve never been more in love with another person than I am in love with Matt Murdock.

[anzulvr]

idrk how to request— BUT WHAT ABT READER AS HIS SPARRING PARTNER ?? above average strength but obv he would win though he ended up hurting u, what do u think would he do? LIKE DOES HE DISREGARD THE FACT THAT THEY'RE IN PHYSICAL ED AND JUST CARRY HER AND THEN WHOO—

Summary: Karma × Reader getting hurt while sparring// fluff 🎀// I luv him pls sorry this took so long it deleted 😭😭

❝ sect. 01 pre fight ❞

— There weren’t many reasons you got paired up with Karma in to begin with,

One: you begged Karasuma- (he said no)

Two: Korosensei pulled strings for you, only because you're his favorite couple. (You’re literally the only official couple in class so he doesn’t have many options to choose from but still.)

You were so sick of Karma going easy on you. You're just as capable as anyone else in class, sure you came into eclass with zero fighting experience but you've been progressing over time. Even then, he didn’t budge on his stance on not wanting to throw hits the times you were paired up.

Karma wasn't one to underestimate people, anyone who wanted a good fight could get one- he'll even offer them a head start but you're a different story.

He wouldn’t lay a finger on you even for class, wouldn't that make him a shitty boyfriend?

Anytime you spare he guides your hand, takes your hits and high-fives you if you do it right, he does anything but retaliate.

So much so Karasuma refuses to pair you up together because the most Karma will do is dodge.

Luckily today Korosensei managed to convince him.

You spend half the class time begging Karma to just throw a jab swearing up and down you could take it.

"You nearly broke Nagisas nose but you can't hit me once? I'm asking you it's fine!"

"That's different, that's Nagisa, you're you."

he dodges as you swing your anti-koro knife

"So what?! Are you saying Nagisa can take it but I can't?"

"[Name] you know that's not what I'm saying. I just mean I can cope with giving Nagisa a nose bleed, I don't want to hurt you."

you swing again, this time getting the side of his torso

Karma grabs your fist and yanks you towards himself

“Got you.” He sticks his tongue out

"Im not saying you have to go ballistic— I'm just saying you can put up more of a fight."

"Alright fine, but if you feel like I’m being too rough tell me to stop.”

“Deal!”

❝ sect. 02 aftermath❞

— You should've kept your end of the deal but you didn't say anything cause he’d feel bad. The pain all over your leg and thigh was killing you.

He hadn’t even hit you — he kept tripping you over and over again, in his mind it was pretty harmless but enough of a jab to keep you happy except it wasn’t harmless you kept biting your tongue every time you fell on a rock and it burned even harder than the last time.

He didn't notice until you struggled to stand up and he saw blood trickling down your leg, he crouched down to where you were at in an instant.

"[Name]..! Why didn’t you say anything— , are you okay?"

"I didn't want you to regret sparring me! It's fine it's not bad just a little blood, plus I got you a few times too.”

"I’m so stupid. Sorry [Name], can you stand?”

Your leg was fine it was more of a big scrape that worsened each time you fell on something sharp and didn’t tell him, disinfecting it and wrapping it up would fix it.

He pulls you up from your hand, "I'm pretty sure Korosensei has the shed packed with medical supplies let's go there."

Karma’s willing to carry you on his back if you want him to.

❝ sect. 03 at the shed❞

— He has you sit on a stool inside the shed while he looks for bandages, "Towels... paper... Korosensei's weird stash of Magazines... where the hell are the bandage wraps?!"

You point behind him "Karma isn't that a first aid kit?"

"Oh yeah- good job [name]! Wait let me take a picture of his stash to blackmail him with first"

(He has his priorities straight)

He quickly takes a picture of Korosensei's pile of Magazines and returns to the issue at hand. He gently cleans your wounds and wraps them, something he's done plenty of times for himself, not much of a difference.

You swing your other leg, "this is kinda weird… I'm usually the one doing this for you."

He smiles for a moment "I thought the same thing!"

Once you’re leg is all wrapped up he asks you to stand up to see how everything felt.

“Thought of how I can make it up to you yet?”

"It’s not a big thing! Plus this is the first time I've gotten injured in a fight so I feel pretty cool.."

"Pffft yeah?, you look cool too— imagine the crazy stories you can make up when people ask how you got that."

"Im gonna tell people I survived a lion attack."

"Sounds good, I'll tell people I saw it go down so it's more credible."

With one hand still on your bandages he kisses you and for a moment you forget where you’re supposed to be, he pulls back and laughs for a second.

“Ditching class to kiss a guy [name]? Wouldn’t expect that from you.”

“We’re not ditching- and you initiated it, let’s go before Korosensei finds us and lectures us again.” You shivered at the thought.

When you come back to class Korosensei was frantically looking for you.

“Karasuma told me he looked away for a second and you too were gone! I looked everywhere- where were you?!"

Funnily enough Korosensei looked everywhere except the shed he was so worried he forgot to check the area yet flew internationally 10 times.

"We went to look in the shed for medical supplies."

"The shed of course! Why didn't I think of that... anyway I'm glad you're alright, what happened to your leg [Name]?"

"A lion... it's alright I took care of it."

"A lion..?"

"Yeah- you should've seen her teach, she won a fist-fight with a huge lion, all by herself."

Korosensei’s face flashes green “full points!”

He didn’t actually believe that but from the look on his face he got the hint Karma was the one who took care of your injury and that’s all that mattered to him.

a/n sorry if this is bad😭, tell me if there’s any spelling mistakes pls !! And sorry for the late post :)

[lovelywritinglady]

hi can i recwest a uzui x reader where uzui have a argment and gat a divors and yn is pregnet years later when the child and he rillast that it is his child and has a tak whif yn and trase to fics everifing

if you canpleas do thak you and have a grat day

I’d love to!💜

Mistakes

Tengen Uzui x fem!Reader

You and Tengen got into a heated argument after a demon hunt gone wrong. He says some extremely hurtful words. You decide to leave him because you know you don’t deserve that. What you didn’t know was that you were pregnant with his child. Angst, slight fluff, Tengen being a dick, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, and other mature themes.

Your pov

"You nearly got us killed, what are you and idiot?" My husband Tengen yelled at me.

"It was an accident, I'm sorry!" I yelled back

"You cannot afford accidents like this Y/N!" He roared stepping closer to me causing me to flinch slightly.

"I'm sorry." I whispered

"Sorry won't even begin to cover the fucking stupitity of your actions! You have no right being a demon slayer with how dumb you are. I can't believe I married someone like you!" he yelled looking me dead in the eye with fury.

"Fuck you!" I snapped as my anger began rising as tears filled my eyes.

"Real mature Y/N, get the hell out of my house until you can learn some respect and basic combat moves." he said as he began walking away as I began to sob.

"Where the hell am I going to stay! Tengen, I'm your wife!' I cried walking towards him.

"Hell if I care, just get your things and don't come back until you aren't so incopitent." he snapped walking away into another room.

I stood there unable to think, feel, or understand the situation. My body moved on its own and next thing I knew I was out of mt home with a bag packed walking only god knows where. It was getting dark, but I didn't care all I knew is that I was no longer wanted, needed, or loved by the man that swore he would protect me and love me no matter what. So much for promises. I kept walking until the sun began to rise, my thoughts much clearer now and my tears no longer flowing down my face. I decided to go live with my older sister, Misa, who lives on the other side of the country. Her and I have always been close, and I just hoped I would never see that asshole again.

One Month Later

I feel unbelievebly sick, as every morning and evening I spill my guts out. I have an uncontroable hunger and yet anytime I try to eat something I feel once again that I want to throw up. I feel miserable not just physically, but mentally too. Despite his words, I still love my husband. He use to be my everything, but I suppose I was never his. He claimed that he couldn't believe that he married me and just thinking about those poisonus words make my body ache once more. Tears I try not to spill came fourth with so much eagerness that I had no time to stop them. I hated myself for crying over him, but I suppose I was really crying for the man he use to be. I knew in my heart that I would always love him, but now I can never be with someone who so easily made me feel like my very existence meant nothing. I heard a faint knocking that pulled me out of my thoughts as the sweet voice of my sister filled the room.

"How are you feeling this morning, Y/N?" Misa asked as she sat next to me putting her hand on my forhead.

"Not great." I sighed smiling at her wiping away my tears.

"Y/N, I really think we should get you a doctor. This has been going on too long." She suggested taking her hand off my head.

"I think your right Misa." I sighed

"I didn't want to say anything to you, but I really think you're pregnant." she said in a whisper

"What!" I whisper yelled

"You're showing signs and don't worry if you are. I will always take care of you." Misa reassured

"Lets hope I'm not then." I said nervously.

Two days later the doctor came, she was a sweet older lady that had a warm smile and a small figure. She came into my room and inspected me in all they ways she could. My nerves at this point were all consuming as I really did not want to be pregnant, especially since I knew who the father was.

"My dear you have no fever and no true illness. What you are expierencing, is early signs of pregnancy." she said with a smile

"I see, I guess my sister was right then." I stated sadly

"Are you not happy, I'm sure your husband will be." she stated with a concerned look on her face.

"My husband no longer wants me." I answered doing my best not to cry once more.

"Oh, I am so sorry, my dear." She said grabbing my hand.

"Thank you, I just have no idea what to do now." I said honestly

"That's just something you're going to have to figure out for yourself. At the end of the day you need to do what's best for your child." She spoke seriously

"Yes, I suppose you're right." I sighed

"Of course I'm right dear, I am a doctor." she joked

"Hey, is everything alright in here?" my sister asked as she knocked on the door.

"It will be." I whispered touching my belly.

Three Years And Six Months Later

My son, Kei, is now nearly three years old. He's a rowdy child that seems to always be obsessed with what is going on outside. Whether is rainy, snowy, or sunny, he's always begging to go outside. I can't complain though as I love nature and seeing his little cheeks puffed up when he askes is always so cute. Kei looks a little bit like his father as he got most of his features from me. His eyes are the same color as my ex husband and his personality matches. His hair is a lighter shade of h/c, which gave me relief. I still haven't told Tengen about our son, nor do I want to. Part of me feels selfish, but part of me doesn't want to subject him to a man like Tengen. Although, when they do meet, I hope he is kind to his son. Kei is too sweet and kind to have to be around a father that verbally abuses him. I just couldn't live with myself if I let my baby be hurt by him.

In these three years, I haven't had a full time job. Mostly they have been part time jobs and my sister has been providing for me and my son. She claimes that since she doesn't have a family that this is no trouble, but Kei is old enough where I can start working full time. It took a long time to find job, but one day my sister came into the house screaming that she found a job that was perfect for me.

"Y/N, this is a landscaping job." she nearly yelled in my ear

"Huh, that's a little different than the jobs that I'm looking for, but hey if they are hiring then I'll take it." I said confifently

"Mama what's going on?" Kei asked as he walked into the room with a sleepy expression.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you up." I cooed opening my arms for my son. He then picked up the pace and ran into my arms crushing me with all of his nearly three year old strength.

"Its okay." he sighed playing with his fingers with a small tired pout

"Your mama just found a job, Kei." my sister said with a smile at her nephew

"Okay." he said disinterested. I smiled at this, he's so small and perfect and despite the fact that my pregnancy was not the easiest, it was worth it.

Two weeks later I found myself walking towards my new job. It was a sunny day and part of myself wished Kei was here to enjoy it with me. I can almost hear his voice calling my name begging me to play with him. I was lucky to have been blessed with him. My thoughts of my perfect child came to a halt as the gates of the house I would be working at came into view. Taking a deep breath I began walking to what I thought was the front door. This property was absolutely beautiful. Everything seemed like it was perfect, not even a pebble out of place. It was a calming place that seemed to inspire peace. For some reason this place looked oddly familiar and it only now hit me that this was the place where the master lived. Tengen had taken me here years ago when he became hashira while I was just starting to become a demon slayer. Before I left, I was one rank away from being hashira. I thought about training again, but now that I have my son I felt it was irresponsible. Plus I could never leave him.

"You must be Y/N." The master suddenly said and it made me wonder how long he was there for.

"Yes sir, its very nice to meet you. Thank you for having me." I said bowing to show respect to him.

"Of course. I am aware of your situation and am happy to give you work here." He said with a smile." Come with me and I'll show you the grounds.

Two weeks later

Working at this mansion feels peaceful and the work is harder than I expected, but the pay is well worth it. Today I raked, cut grass, and tended to the luscious gardens. The sun beamed down on me giving me a slight headache. Thankfully the day was almost over for me so that I could go home to my son and my sister. Kei has been begging me to take him here ever since my sister told him that the hashira train here. I have been reluctant of it since seeing Tengen might be a possiblilty and seeing a child in my arms was a conversation that I simply did not want to have yet, even though I knew one day it would happen. I heard light footsteps approach me. turning my head I saw one of the other workers and smiled at him. He was a kind man that was around my age and he and I had talked a few times.

"Hey there, how's the work today?" He questioned with a sweet smile.

"Same as always although its a little hotter than usual." I responded

"Yeah, but I like it when its hot because I know that cooler weather is around the corner." he said with a content smile

"That would be nice." I chuckled

"Oh, you should know that the hashira will be here tomorrow." he said seriously

"Well, I'll make sure to make myself scarce." I said trying to mask my nervousness.

"Don't, all you need to do is smile and show them respect." He smiled

"Will do." I laughed standing up.

"Well I will see you tomorrow and tell your son I said hi." he smirked

"I'll make sure to tell him, see you tomorrow." I bowed

I watched him leave with a fake smile on my face. As soon as he was out of sight I sighed as my stomach throbbed with uncomfortable uneasiness as I began waking to the shed to put my tools away with my head hung low. I was no where okay with the fact that Tengen was going to be here tomorrow. I thought that maybe I should call in sick, but no one would believe that. Even if they did, I’d feel too guilty about it. The best thing to do was to avoid seeing him and focus on my work. If I keep my head down and not do any quick movements, then he won’t see me, hopefully. My thoughts were completely consumed with my nerves that I didn’t even register that I had bumped into someone until I heard someone speaking.

“Hey watch where you walk, alright.” The voice snapped

“Forgive me, I wasn’t looking.” I said frantically bowing as to show respect and forgiveness.

“Y/N?” The voice questioned lowing its tone. I then stood up and as my eyes met with the stranger I immediately tended up. My breath hitched and my stomach dropped into the ground. The one and one Tengen Uzui stood before me in all of his flashy glory.

“Uhh, you gonna say anything?” He joked as his eyes raked over my body.

“Um hi.” I stuttered slightly unsure of what the hell to even do. And I tended even more so when his body came crashing into mine in a bone crushing hug. I could feel his urgency and I almost allowed myself to met into his arms. But I couldn’t because I knew it wasn’t right.

“I missed you.” He mumbled into my hair. “I’m so sorry Y/N, you didn’t deserve that.” He cried.

“I know.” I said monotone still unsure what to do. Do I tell him about our son or do I keep my mouth shut and pretend like any of this is okay?

“Where have you been?” He questioned breaking the hug but still standing close. I looked up at him and sighed.

“Here and there, but mostly I’ve been living with my sister.” I said honestly. I really couldn’t lie to this man he’s really good at sporting liars. As much as I hated him, I really didn’t feel like lying to him.

“Ahh so that’s where you’ve been. I though your sister moved away from here.” He said curiously.

“She was going to, but she decided to stay.” I responded trying not to show too much emotion.

“Guess I should’ve looked there.” He joked

“You looked for me?” I questioned as I raised an eyebrow.

“Of course I did you’re my wife and I love you.” He scoffed as though he was offended.

“I just thought you wouldn’t care.” I mumbled

“Of course I care.” Tengen sighed

“Well you sure as hell didn’t act like it then.” I snapped

“You’re right, I didn’t I was too hard on you. You made a simple mistake. Hell I’ve made mistakes too. Making mistakes in this line of work is never good, but no one died. I should’ve been easier on you and I’m sorry.” He spoke. His eyes were pleading with mine saying silent apologies.

“Thank you for apologizing, but I can’t forgive you right now. You make me feel like I was nothing and I’m not just going to forgive that easily. I know one day I will, but I just can’t now.” I whispered as tears threatened my eyes.

“That’s understandable, I just hope one day that we can be together again. I miss you and honestly you’re the best aspect of life.” He said with a longing gaze.

“I’m not sure about that. That might take a long time. I don’t exactly trust you.” I spoke honestly.

“Fair enough.” He sighed. I reluctantly decided that I should just rip the bandaid off. Kei was his son and as much as I hated to admit it, Tengen was honest about his apologies. That man doesn’t half ass anything. So I thought this might be the time.

“Look Tengen I-“Just as I was about to tell him the screeching voice of my child filled my ears and I knew I was fucked.

“Mama!” Kei screeched as he ran straight towards me crushing me into a hug. He nuzzled his head into my thigh and despite how nervous I was I smiled at how cute my baby was.

“We have a child.” I finished with an awkward smile. Tengen stood there stiff and unmoving which was strange for him. I had never seen him tense up like this ever and I began to regret not going home sooner.

“Mama who’s this and why is he so tall.” Kei questioned waking up to Tengen. “Hey, you okay?” He said as he poked Tengens hand.

“Ummm.” Tengen said still shocked at the fact that Kei, his son, was standing right there. Matching pink eyes and all.

“Ummm?” Kei questioned craning his head to the side. “That’s a weird name.” Kei said in disgust.

“Baby this is Tengen Uzui and he’s a hashira. And he’s also your father.” I said trying to stay as calm and collected as possible.

“You’re my dad.?” Kei asked Tengen with cute excited smile on his cubby face.

“Yeah, I guess I am kid.” Tengen whispered crouching down and pulling Kei towards him in a loving him. “I’m your dad.” Tengen cried.

I began to shed a few tears at how cute this meeting was. I felt slightly bad that I didn’t tell Tengen about our son, but I had good reasons not to. I’m just so glad that he seems to be a better and nicer man. My thoughts then came to a haunt as I noticed my sister wasn’t here nor was was neighbor that Kei likes to hang out with. Meaning he came here alone.

“Kei honey, did you walk here alone.” I questioned with my hands on my hips.

“Umm no.” He quickly said.

“Kei answer your mother honestly.” Tengen said sternly but not too much as to scare the child.

“Yeah okay I came here by myself. But I really missed you!” Kei cried quickly to defend himself

“I missed you too, but you need to wait until I get home.” I sighed looking at how adorable my son looked with a pout.

“Okay.” He said reluctantly. Smiling at my son hugging his father brought peace to me. And I then decided to do something that would bring us all together.

“Tengen, would you like to join us for dinner?” I questioned still looking at the cute scene before me.

“Absolutely I would!” He exclaimed standing up and picking up our son, swinging him in the air.

“Yay!” Kei screeched

Making eye contact with Tengen I have him a small smile. His eyes looked relaxed and happy and I’m glad that he found out about or son. He then came up to me smiling as well.

“Y/N thank you for allowing me to be with him. I will do by best to be the father he deserves and hopefully one day the man you deserve if that’s what you’d like.” He spoke

“Thank you, I’m sure you will. And for that second bit only time can tell.” I joked

“Sounds good to me. Alright shall we go?” Tengen suggested

“Yeah, I wanna show you my room!” Kei said

“I bet it’s the flashiest room ever.” Tengen said matching Kei’s energy.

“It sure is!” I exclaimed content about the situation that I was in. But I wondered something.

“Hey why are you here early?” I asked Tengen

“The master told me to come early.” He spoke

“Why?” I asked

“No idea, but something tells me this was the reason.” He spoke softly

“Maybe.” I responded shaking my head at the thought that the master was trying to play match maker again.

We walked to the house as Kei held Tengens hand as well as he could. While the adults caught up on the years and for the first time in a long time I felt happy to be near Tengen.

Thank you so much for reading💜 Thank you to whoever requested this! Sorry it took longer than expected.

Please fell free to comment, repost, and request.

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n and any original characters•

-L.W.L

[marvelsmylife]

What could’ve been

Pairing: Brennan Sorrengail x reader

Prompt: “Being around you physically hurts”

a/n Here's a little angsty story for you. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a part two. Also, I am accepting fourth wing requests.

warning: angst angst ANGST ! ! ! ! !

Fourth Wing Masterlist

Request

Having a crush on your best friend’s older brother is normal, right? That is what you told yourself growing up. You’ve been best friends with Mira since you were children, and you’ve had the world’s biggest crush on Brennan for just as long. She knew about your crush on her older brother and would switch between teasing you about it and being grossed out at the thought of her best friend and brother dating.

Your world came crashing down when you got the news that Brennan was killed during the battle with the rebellion. You spent years mourning his death and found yourself regretting not telling him about your feelings towards him. You often found yourself wishing you could see him one last time so you could at least confess your feelings.

So seeing him alive after assuming he was dead for six would bring you joy right? Nope. Not in the slightest. “Y/n, it’s good to see you again,” Brennan said your name with such ease it caused you to feel physically sick.

He could tell as well and started approaching you. “Don’t,” you held up your hand to stop him, “I-” but you left running before finishing your sentence.

Against his better judgment, Brennan followed after you. A part of him thought you would be happy to see him after so long. Then again, he also had to remind himself that you might be mad at him for lying about being dead for six years.

After a few minutes, Brennan finally found you sitting in an empty hallway. “Y/n,” Brennan called out and caused you to tense, “I know this is a lot to process, but please let me explain.”

Brennan took you into his office, where he proceeded to explain to you how he was still alive and why he didn’t return home after he healed. While you were still furious about him not informing you or his family that he was still alive, you understood.

By the end, you were still a crying mess, but you weren’t as angry with him as before. “I’m sorry, but missed you,” you cried into his chest.

“It’s ok,” Brennan reassured you before pulling you back and wiping away your tears. That’s when he decided to lean in and kiss you. His fingers disappeared into your hair and deepened the kiss. 

You allowed yourself to enjoy the kiss you so desperately wanted growing up until you came to your senses and pulled away. “Why did you do that?” You whispered.

“Do what?” Brennan asked in a confused tone, his eyes looked at you concerned. He was going to lean in and kiss you again, but you moved your head to prevent him from trying again. 

You felt like you were going to throw up while you processed everything that happened within such a small timeframe. Looking into his eyes, you could see he was concerned, “Why did you kiss me? Why now?”

Brennan remained silent for several minutes while he thought of a response, “I don’t know. I just thought that since you had a crush on me growing up-“

“Wait, you knew?” You looked at him stunned.

Brennan remained silent, realizing he fuck up. “Yes, I knew,” Brennan answered, “You weren’t subtle with your crush.”

Brennan thought that would bring a smile to your face, but all it did was make you more upset. “If you knew then, why didn’t you say anything? Why did you make me suffer by wondering if you liked me or not?”

“I was too old for you,” Brennan replied, even though he knew that was a lie. You and Mira were the same age, and Brennan was only three years older than her, “Plus, you’re Mira’s best friend. I couldn’t date her best friend.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Brennan’s explanation, which caused Brennan to wince, “Yet you’re ok with kissing me now? Gods, I have to get out of here.”

“Don’t go,” Brennan begged as he tried to reach for you, but you just shook him off, “Please don’t go. I need you here. I need to know you’re safe.”

“I can’t. Being around you physically hurts right now. Of course, I'm not leaving Aretia, but I can’t be around you right now. Please don’t approach me until I’m ready.”

All Brennan could do was nod as he watched you leave his office. As soon as the door shut, he started shaking uncontrollably. Brennan didn’t even realize he was shaking until he felt Violet’s hands on top of his. He wanted to ask her how she managed to enter his office without him noticing, but all that came out was: “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me for not telling her that I knew she had a crush on me growing up?”

“I don’t know,” Violet answered honestly, “She really loved Bren. She kept telling us she regretted not telling you how she felt about you. It took her three years to recover, and even then, I feel like a part of her died with you that day.”

Brennan knew he needed to give you space to process everything that was going on. He hated himself for not confessing that he knew about your crush on him. What he hated the most was that he couldn’t tell you that he loved you as well because you would assume he was saying it out of pity. The only thing Brennan could do now was wait for you to come around.

[captainjacklyn]

first year gang (+ grim if that's okay) reacting to yuu/mc getting heavily injured in front of them and losing lots of blood? (mostly from overblot)

it can be plantonic or romantic

Another request to go ! Thank you for requesting Anon, I'm so sorry it came out so late. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved doing it.

Content : You get heavily injured in a fight with another overblot, how do the first years individually react to such a devastating sight ?

Warning(s) : mentions of blood and injury, reader is gender neutral so they/them, it can be platonic or romantic whatever suits your taste, might have cussing ? idk. Anyways, have a fun time reading.

First years reacting to mc/yuu getting hurt :

Ace Trappola

If I remember correctly, an insult was enough to make him worked up. He literally punched the living sh*t out of his dorm leader, so try imagining what would happen if you got physically injured.

His mind instantly snaps upon seeing you get hurt, he may sometimes act like a jerk. But no one hurts his best friend.

Especially you.

Loses his temper, will try to murder whoever is over blotting even if they're not mentally stable.

hell he isn't either, after they turn back to normal, he won't hesitate to slap them across the face and spit as many insults there is.

When you're brought to the school nurse, he isn't coming because he's not done with your attacker but Ace will shoot you an anxious glance.

Once you heal up, this guy will fucking scold you but he means good. For once you're not the mom of the group.

"What kind of idiot jumps right in front of strike ?! You're lucky we saved you or you would've been dead by now stupid-"

He's not nice about it cause you made him way too worried. He's supposed to be the one messing around, don't be so reckless especially if your life is at stake.

Doesn't mind fun but not the type of fun that's gonna get you killed.

"*sigh* just c'mere- Yeah don't ask why I'm hugging you, that answer is FAIRLY OBVIOUS !"

Deuce spade

Deuce is one of the first to check up on you and your injury, if you're unconscious he's going to repeatedly call out your name and beg you to wake up.

He's panicking, and he knows that it doesn't help the situation. But fear quickly turned into anger by the time you were put to safety.

"You...HOW DARE YOU HURT THEM ?! YOU SICK BASTARD !"

There goes that guy, rest his soul cause getting killed by deuce is the exact opposite of he died peacefully in his sleep.

after a couple days, you would be fully recovered and you can bet this blue haired ex-delinquent will be all over you.

He'll scold you too but not as much as Ace, deuce is a sweet idiot and honestly I love him for it.

Deuce is trying his best but he can't help being mad at himself for not being able to protect you, you're his best friend/Lover !

You need to reassure him that you're fine and that's enough, he's glad you're trying to cheer him up but YOU'RE THE ONE WITH A RUPTURED SPINE- HOW THE HELL IS THAT FAIR ?!

"Repeat after me : I promise.." "Deuce this is stupid" "NO, say 'I promise..?" "...I promise..." "TO NEVER BECOME A HUMAN SHIELD"

"...."

"Just do it."

"...I promise I won't become a....human shield..?"

Epel Felmier

Ok this man is loosing his temper. But like imagine the : you called him a girl temper, now reimagine that but then triple the anger.

Yup.

That attacker/overblot dude is dead, he's about to die.

Like Epel doesn't even need help he's already cowboying his way through- wait is that a damn lasso.

Destroying the whole area as if he was an active tornado just obliterating everything and everyone.

Epel is most likely to stand by this quote : "You mess with them/her/him, you mess with me."

Doesn't matter if you're just his friend or partner, that man has loyalty and he is going to tackle anyone in the stomach just for looking at you the wrong way.

He may look pretty but he is deadly, I can assure you that no need to test it.

He won't be panicking when you recover, he's just gonna be relieved you're ok.

Will probably pout a little cause you worried him so much but besides that he hopes that you won't pull a stunt like that again.

"I'm glad to see that you're doing alright.."

Sebek Zigvolt

Ok this one. Is pissed.

He's not gonna let that offense go, you and wake-sama are placed on an equal pedestal so it means that if you get hurt then that means the only suitable punishment to the cause is d e a t h.

Crocodile Sebek goes BRRRRRRRR-

Proceeds to annihilate the bastard, like have some fucking mercy dude- I have never seen a scrope pounding this severe in my whole entire life.

yeah no, the victim isn't getting up after getting his balls turned into a size eleven sneaker.

Sebek is gonna give you those 4 hour lectures when you wake up and there is no escaping it cause you got a leg turned into mash potato.

"And so that is why you should NEVER put yourself in danger EVER again-"

"EPel please save me"

"Where do you think you're going ?!"

🎶RUN FAST FOR YOUR MOTHER, FAST FOR YOUR FATHER~ !!!

RUN FOR YOUR CHILDREN, FOR YOUR SISTERS AND BROTHERS 🎶

🎶LEAVE ALL YOUR LOVE AND YOUR LONGING BEHIND-!!

YOU CAN'T CARRY IT WITH YOU IF YOU WANT TO SURVIVE~🎶

THE DOG DAYS ARE OVER-ER !!!

Sorry I got carried away, I just love this song so much T_T.

Running through the halls like a one-legged track star as students just hear Sebek yelling from the other side of campus.

Jack Howl

Ok he turns into big wolf boy the second he takes the sight of you getting hit and heavily injured.

He is going to eat that overbold guy alive, no questions asked.

He was baring his teeth before now he's full on destroying them into oblivion.

Man gets angry, growling was a warning until they crossed the damn line by putting you in danger.

"I WON'T FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS !"

Now it doesn't really matter wether he's your partner, best friend or some kind of family figure. Cause that man is guarantee the best guy to have around, like...LOOK AT HIM !?

he may act tough but he's a real softie that does his best to play fair and square.

No matter what you see him as, Jack is protective and looks after to you. Even more than you can do actually !

Once the fight is over, he's going to the nurse to check up on you.

When he sees that you're out of harms way he's gonna grumble a little bit.

"You really are reckless, don't pull a stunt like that again..Uh ?! No I wasn't worried ! You're strong, there is no way that kind of injury would be able to take you out anyway. But still...I'm glad to see you're alright."

I know this isn't very good, I'm sorry for not being active as much these days but since it's now the holidays. I'll be posting a lot more with how much time I got !

Thank you for reading !

[eldritch-nightmare]

Could I request some headcanons for the MH characters and how they'd react to their s/o dying due to the Operator sickness (just to make it more challenging, let's say Alex didn't do it)

a/n: you most certainly can omg i love writing mcd and angst!! i literally dropped everything i was doing to write this so i hope you enjoy!!

marble hornets characters reacting to their s/o dying due to operator sickness.

warnings: major character death, swearing, blood, vomit, coughing, sleep deprivation, gn!reader, death is mainly unspecified but alex isn't the cause, jessica's actually made me feel sad i wanna hug her.

JAY MERRICK.

You stuck by Jay's side since the beginning of all of this, helping him with finding more tapes and piecing together the clues of the mystery that is Marble Hornets.

Even when things got bad, you and Jay stuck together.

You guys were worried, obviously, when you both started to experience symptoms of the sickness, but neither of you allowed it to slow you down.

Unfortunately, the sickness was taking a heavy toll on you more than it was Jay at this point, and it was starting to show.

You could barely sleep most days, but with the sickness, sleeping was like an oasis in the middle of a desert.

And the day you died, you were running on no sleep. It had been... a while since you had last been able to sleep. You were at death's doorstep, but neither you nor Jay were ready to admit it.

Your death had been... peaceful, in the end.

You were in the car with Jay. You weren't sure where you two were going, but you knew that Tim was driving behind you guys. The weight of everything felt so heavy on your shoulders, and you could just... feel yourself drifting off. You knew you more than likely weren't going to wake up if you closed your eyes, so with the last of your strength, you caught Jay's attention and just oh so softly whispered, 'I love you.' before your eyes shut and you slumped against the window of the car.

Jay pulled over immediately because he knew that something was wrong. He tried performing CPR on you, but you didn't come back. And the Operator just had to choose this moment specifically to show up, so Tim had to physically drag Jay away from your body so the two could get away.

The Operator took your body, and Jay followed you into the afterlife soon after.

ALEX KRALIE.

Well first off congrats on not being killed by Alex, I guess. No, you die early on.

But he didn't kill you. He didn't get the chance. He was going to, trust me, but it seems your body just couldn't handle the sickness like everyone else.

That doesn't make it any less painful for Alex to watch. He loves you so much, so of course your death is going to hit him.

Seeing you vomit blood as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body started to convulse... it was terrible.

And he wanted to help you, he did! He wanted to do something to save your life but...

Perhaps... it would be better if he didn't...

Watching you die is something that'll haunt his dreams for sure, and your death will definitely motivate him to achieve his goal and it'll spur him further into the mindset of 'everyone in contact with anyone who has the sickness needs to die'.

And he'll blame Tim for your death, period.

Even if it isn't Tim's fault, it is. Alex simply cannot blame anyone else.

He knows that it was wrong to watch you die and not do anything to help, but... it was the right thing to do. Surely, you would have understood, right?

TIM WRIGHT.

His biggest fear was you dying because of all of this.

At first, most of his fear stemmed from him apparently having an alter ego of sorts that doesn't recognize the people he knows and is violent. He was worried that he'd end up hurting you when in this state of mind.

That fear transitioned away from that when this alter ego went dormant. Instead, it just became a natural fear of you getting injured.

He didn't want you to involve yourself in this because he knew it would be dangerous, but you insisted and he can't exactly stop you.

So when you die? Right in front of him? Choking on your own vomit and blood?

Well, he'd simply blame himself.

It's his fault that everyone is involved in all of this in the first place. If he had just... never made any friends, everyone would still be alive.

It's his fault. His fault that you died. He'll never get to see you again. He'll never get to hear your laugh or see the sparkle in your eyes.

He couldn't even get you a proper funeral because the Operator took your body. You're gone. You're gone.

Alex is right. It really is his fault.

BRIAN THOMAS.

Brian knew getting involved with you doomed you to your fate, but he's more selfish than he lets on.

He couldn't let you go. Even after he assumed the persona of Hoodie, he wanted you in his life.

He did his best to take care of you when the sickness started taking its toll on you. He made sure to steal some of Tim's pills for the two of you to take, he kept you hydrated and he was very adamant about you not touching his camera.

He concealed most of his worry because he knew that being openly worried would only make you worry.

His biggest concern was Alex finding you. If Alex knew where you were, he wouldn't hesitate to take your life, so Brian made sure he never even filmed anywhere near where he kept you.

That being said, because of everything going on, Brian can't be with you all the time.

And you die while he's gone.

He returns to the abandoned building to find it empty. You were nowhere in sight, and immediate panic overtook whatever other thoughts were going on in his mind as he tore the place apart trying to find you. The only thing left in your place was one of his spare cameras.

Dread immediately settles in alongside his panic as he watches the latest tape on the camera, and that's when he sees it. You, with tears streaming down your face as you struggle to force back a violent cough fit. You confessed to him that you hadn't been taking the pills he'd been giving you, instead always sneaking them back into the bottle so Brian would have more to take for himself. And you cry, telling Brian that you're sorry and that you love him before you drop the camera and fall to the ground as a violent coughing fit begins to take over.

Brian has to look away from the screen because seeing you die is not something he can handle. He only looks back when you stop coughing. Your body wasn't in the frame anymore. It's safe to assume that the Operator took you.

Brian sorta just... goes numb, to be honest. There's no other way to describe it, really. He just exists, and then he dies.

JESSICA LOCKE.

Oh Shit. Oh God, what the hell? What's going on?

Poor girl doesn't even know what's happening for most of the time she's there and now her lover just collapsed to the ground and started to cough up blood.

She tries her hardest to offer her support, holding your hair back and trying to help you ride out this coughing fit but it just gets worse the longer you cough.

She's in tears as she tells you to just hold on, scrambling to search for anything she could use to call an ambulance to get you some help.

She even tries carrying you, but she's also dealing with the sickness and is in a weakened state so all she can do is watch in horror as your coughing gets worse.

Then the vomiting starts, and there's no way a human can survive vomiting up so much blood.

Please don't die. Please, she can't lose you. She can't do this without you! You have to stay alive, you have to stay with her! You can push through this, she knows you can! Just focus on her voice, okay?

But her pleas mean nothing in the end.

In the end, your body gives out on you and you breath your last breath in the arms of your girlfriend as she cries, begging you to stay with her.

And when all of this is over, she has no memory of your death. Tim tells her that you left. She'll never know the truth of what actually happened.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pretending to be sick in order to skip school even though I'm making my parents worried?

(I'm submitting this on a Monday. fuck Mondays btw.)

I (15M) am the only child of both of my parents (42F, 44M) and even though I love them and they love me, I feel like they don't really get me. since I was like 12 or so I started getting bullied by my classmates bc, essentially, I have "childish" interests (I like Adventure Time and video-games. my classmates need to realize we're technically still kids, but nooo they're not teenagers they're "Young Adults" and "Too Cool" to like anything remotely childish) and whenever I've tried to tell my parents that I'm experiencing bullying, they somehow end up thinking that I just don't want to go to school bc I'm lazy. I know being a parent is probably not easy but. what the fuck.

from my own experience I've noticed male and female bullies use different methods - guys hit me and use brute force against me while girls say hurtful things to me. one of the guys who bullies me, let's call him DH which stands for Dickhead (15M), is also extremely popular for some reason. he's very tall, very strong and he always uses that against me (I'm almost as tall as DH but I'm just lanky). he bullies anyone who is "beneath him" lol everybody bow down to the king of the fucking world.

today DH was making a scene at recess bc his girlfriend (15F) was wearing a skirt that was too short according to him. he was so mad at her that people were starting to form a circle around them. since DH is so popular people really respect his gf but they clearly respect him more bc today no one tried to help her. I don't respect DH, because he's a dickhead, so I stepped in and said something like "c'mon man what the hell, there's no need to humiliate your girlfriend like this, leave her alone". DH was pissed. he heatedly said that just because no girl will ever want to date me, that doesn't give me the right to tell other guys how to handle their relationships and their girlfriends. he got rlly mad and clearly he wanted to hit me so I ran like hell and proceeded to hide from him for the rest of recess. I felt like a little bitch tbh. DH always makes me feel like a little bitch.

before classes started again his gf found me and talked to me for like 5 minutes. she said I don't know DH like she does and that he's actually a really good boyfriend (HA, sure) and that I would be more liked and popular if I wanted to be, but it's "not normal" that I watch Adventure Time at 15. she also told me that DH intends to beat the shit out of me tomorrow. he said he'll "kill me" and ngl he has the physical strength to do so. this made me shit my fucking pants so today as soon as I got home I decided to pretend I was sick since I can be pretty good at acting. I told my parents I had a headache, I started fake-coughing, I said I felt really tired. I even managed to look pale on purpose by thinking of how fucking scared I was of DH and what he might do to me, and I raised the temperature of the thermometer by rubbing it against the fabric of my sweatshirt.

apparently I was so convincing that my parents agreed to let me skip class tomorrow and they even said I can skip it for the rest of the week if I don't improve (tbh I think I won't "improve" if you know what I mean) and I could see they were worried. this is the reason why I feel like an asshole. at the end of the day I'm making my parents worried, I'm lying about my health and I feel kinda guilty. but I'm too scared, and if I tell them the truth they'll just tell me to "man up" or they'll think once again that I'm just too lazy to want to attend school.

anyway. Adventure Time rocks 🤘🏻

[homicidal-slvt]

[Monsters Walk On Land]

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Shark Merman!Kyle Garrick x F!Reader

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Warnings: MDNI, Abusive Husband {Not Kyle}, Angst, Attempted Murder

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Summary: Thrown into the depths of the ocean you expect to die... Only the be rescued by the monster many warn about.

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Your body sinks into the darkness, no attempt to open your eyes or fight back against the pull of the deep, cold and bitter as it crawls through your veins... No different than your husband, unforgiving and all consuming, taking until there is nothing but a bed of graves.

You were sick of his abuse - the condescending words - the control... You mistakenly thought it'd never get physical, so you bravely told him you were leaving... Oh, what good that did you.

'I'll tell them how ya run away from me... They'll believe me, y'know? Fuckin' whore.'

Blood leaks from your cut up legs, drifting into the darkness, like bait you lure anything closer. He had dragged you to the rocky coast line, your begging and screaming had fallen on deaf ears, tossed over and discarded like mere trash. Something to be forgotten because it no longer was useful.

Something brushes against your leg but you don't have the will to fight it... You can't swim. You always feared the water. There's no point in trying to fight.

×🩷×

Kyle drifts through the water - big brown eyes searching for the scent of blood he picked up on... Webbed hands immediately grasp onto the floating body of a woman without much thought at first, then he processes it.

"The hell...?"

For a moment he thinks she's dead - given the fact she didn't instantly start kicking and flailing... And if she was already dead then a bite wouldn't hurt right- but no... There's certainly a pulse. Soft but there.

He couldn't just kill an innocent woman like this, could he? Even as a shark style monster in the deep, he still has that heart of gold under the surface. So, he drags her towards the dim light of the moon above, moving her to the shore...

It concerns him... The fact she didn't fight... It made it easier to save her but - why didn't she fight?

"C'mon now..."

Settling her against the sand he assists her, watching her cough and sputter, small rocks digging into her skin.

"Who did this to you...?"

He didn't much expect an answer to the question, especially not when she finally got a good look at her savior... He suspected the usual fearful screams would tear through the air - that was how it'd usually go anyway.

×🩷×

You certainly were a bit startled to look over and see the very thing many warn of. People often claimed a monster lurked the waters by this shore but... He saved you...? He could've easily chewed the meat off your bones, especially with those freakishly sharp shark-like teeth of his...

He's honestly kind of beautiful, unique patterns of dark spots and strips across the gray scales on his lower half, his tail built exactly how a shark would be - aside from the whole scaliness of it.

"Thank you..."

You sputter out the words and those big brown eyes of his widen, lifting himself up a bit while he looks at you... He's definitely stunned from what you can tell by his expression, his slightly pointed ears twitching.

"You're not scared of me?"

"Well, I am a little bit but... If you wanted to hurt me - you would have."

A soft chuckle emits from his chest, amusement bubbling and spilling over. You're a very strange human in his books but he likes you...

However, it nags in the back of his head as to what happened to you. How you ended up injured in the water to begin with - the look on your face and your body language... It all reeks of humans doing.

After all - those who walk on land are often much more frightening monsters than the creatures of the deep ever could be...

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{I'm fuckin' exhausted so it took forever to write this and it's shit. And yeah it has a cliffhanger ending - I gave up. I didn't know where to go from there. I probably won't make a part 2 because I'm losing mind.}

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{@sofasoap @soupbinsoup @sarraa-26 @gothgirl6-6-6 @caramlizedtomatoes-deactivated2 }

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{More Content}

[animentality]

my aunt is a sadist.

she has this 14 year old Labrador with multiple types of cancer, but she forced him to go through chemotherapy and multiple surgeries, and dragged him all over the United States to see different specialists even though he's always hated the car and gets motion sick, and it's even worse now that he's sick.

he can't even walk anymore or control when he pees or poops. the last time we spoke, he was literally shitting in my office because it was leaking right out of him, and he couldn't do anything about it.

her son, my cousin, picked him up once and broke half his ribs.

she's spent about 30k on this dog (she's rich), paying for medications and specialists and surgeries that can't have been fun for him.

my mom recently took care of him and she said it stressed her out because it was really hard to take care of this dog who barely eats and can't move at all and needs to be basically dragged places, because picking him up will hurt him.

he also needs a million medications and massages/physical therapists and shots and he has a diaper that has to be changed.

and it really angers me because that dog is not enjoying his life.

the merciful thing to do would be to euthanize him.

if I was in that state, I'd want you to kill me, actually. multiple cancers, unable to walk, barely able to eat, and anything can and will break his bones, plus he's fucking old and arthritic and he's at the end of his fucking life.

it's different for people. people know what's going on. dogs just know they're in pain, and it can't be fixed. and they're miserable.

but some people care more about their own emotional well-being than the suffering of a living creature they purport to love.

I know people love their dogs. I know people will do a lot to save them, and that's as it should be.

but dogs die. everyone dies.

sometimes the kinder thing to do is make their passing painless.

but she clings to him because she needs him, not because it's best for him. and it sickens me.

I see that poor dog and the pain in his eyes makes me want to slap my aunt. but I know it comes from a misguided sense of love.

my own dog, Frankie, is 16 and has lung cancer.

but the tumor is growing slowly and he's still eating and running around and excited when I come home.

he still wants to hang out.

the only difference is that he coughs more and eats slower, at multiple times during the day instead of wolfing it down the second it's on the floor.

but if it got to the point where he wasn't eating at all, and he couldn't move, and he was hurting and not breathing??

I love him too much to keep him with me, when it's his time to go.

pics of Frankie for anyone who's interested

[voltronisanobsession]

Ok I know I’ve been gone for over a month BUT HEAR ME OUT GUYS‼️

I’ve been going through this phrase where I’m reading a lot of yandere content rn (I gobble that shit UP), and idk the toxicity of it all is giving me a lot of inspo lowkey💀

Like imagine a manipulative reader. HEAR ME OUUUTT

No one knows it but reader is a secret spy at camp half blood (love this trope) and grows super close to Percy. Like they grow close really quickly, you show him your deepest secrets and whatnot to gain his trust and he doesn’t even know it.

Percy shares his own secrets and experiences with you because he feels so connected to you!! It’s on a whole different level and he can’t help but slowly fall for you. And you know this. As much as it hurts you (or doesn’t) to gain the trust of this boy who’s obviously fallen for you, you know you gotta do your job.

You begin to know him on such a deep level and you use it to your advantage. You sway and manipulate any choices he has to make.

Im still on the first few chapters of heroes of Olympus so I still don’t know the plot to it sorry💀 so let’s just say reader is manipulating Percy for their own personal gain, or like planning to sell any information they gain from him to monsters, who knows.

Percy has no clue what’s so ever, but Annabeth can sense something’s off with you. The way you cling to Percy, almost like a leech, as her suspicious.

And when she confronts you, tears. Tears EVERYWHERE. And Percy falls for them. He falls for your crocodile tears because it physically HURTS him to see you crying.

He would console you, quickly muttering sweet nothings as he rubs your arms in order to ‘calm’ you down, hugging you, not knowing the dark look in your eyes as you stare down Annabeth.

Lowkey you would start pitting him against everyone around camp. Lying to him by saying how there’s nasty rumors going around about you made by some of the campers. You’re basically the devil on his shoulder, whispering into his ears exaggerated lies and deception.

And Percy believes everything you say! Why? Because he’s too down bad. This dude practically worships the ground you walk on, so when you slowly start influencing the decisions he makes, he doesn’t question it.

He believes that youre only trying to help him😭 that you only want what’s best for him so he blindly trusts your judgement.

He trusts you sm that he tells you everything you ask about. And if it’s after he went into the Styx river, he’ll even tell you where his weakness. his WEAKNESS

Like bro. You even start to realize that you’ve dragged yourself too deep into what you thought was a game. People and monsters would kill to have this information, you could get killed if anyone found out you knew.

You start feeling guilty for taking advantage of Percy. I mean, he willingly told you the one thing that can kill him, it’s such a big weight on your shoulders now that you can’t help the shame from creeping on you.

Idk, this reader seems like the type to run from their problems, so they most likely do. Over the course of a night, you disappear, cutting all contact with Percy, the camp, everything. You would leave nothing but a short and curt note to him and maybe even Annabeth.

‘Percy, I’m so sorry for lying to you. You didn’t see it but Annabeth did. I’m sorry. -y/n’

And that’s it. Percy would be so hurt and confused, betrayed when he finds out everything. He wants to believe that it’s some sick joke but this is his reality.

He gave you all of him and you just threw it on the ground and crushed it beneath your feet. You quite literally ripped this poor dudes heart straight of his chest with zero remorse, how could you do that to him bro?💀💀💀

He definitely holds some kind of grudge against you. If y’all ever cross paths again, MAJOORR yikes.😬😬 after you leave, Percy grows way more guarded and defensive when meeting new people.

Homeboy does not wanna be taken advantage of again after you💀