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#ive been wanting to do more paint stuff so i finally made time in between my webcomic and feeling generally insane irl
holographings · 2 years
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more mspaint studies for some relaxation, reffed off of a photo from takarazuka’s production of rose of versailles
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razzmothazz · 2 months
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random yuno stuff to make up for the fact ive only been rambling abt makoto so far
yuno is a little MENACE /aff they love pulling little pranks, annoying people and inconveniencing them in little ways. she obviously never takes it far and because she can read people well, they know when someone is too annoyed/upset and makes sure to apologize and make it up to them when she gets carried away. she loves playful banter and their love laguage is definitely friendly bullying
doesnt have the best relationship with her dad and her mom is uhm . out of the picture you could say [this is a pun only i and perhaps pinna get but i will elaborate on it. someday] so they tend to sneak out a lot to stay with UNIT MEMBER THAT SHALL NOT BE MENTIONED UNTILL MY SISTER DECIDES TO FINALLY FLESH THEM OUT AND TELL ME ABOUT THEM. anyway yeah yuno doesnt like staying home unless its them locked up comfy in their room doing their own thing, so they go out a lot and spend most of their time out and about doing whatever they feel like doing
despite their cheery and energetic personality, their mindset is actually pretty nihilistic, believing nothing really matter and life has no set meaning. she believes people exist just to exist, same as everything else. youre born, you live, you die. however she doesnt see it as a bad thing, it motivates her to make life as fun as possible while it lasts and to not dwell on anything too long since its inconsequential in the long run, my girl just wants to have fun with it !!
very creative person !!! she cant stick to just one art medium for too long and instead does all kinds of stuff, their favourite form is watercolor painting tho! she thinks the soft look of the paints is very pretty, but besides that she also does sculptures, writing, other types of paintings, digital art, sewing, literally you name any form of artistic craft and they probably tried it at least once, its their main form of self expression since they dont talk about their feelings like. at all
related to the feelings thing, theyre VERY expressive, which is one reason why they never feel the need to talk about their feelings, its cause everyone can simply tell what they feel. she learned that if people cant read you they will ask too many questions and get overly concerned, so she started putting her feelings on full display, yet still doesnt like elaborating on them. shes the kind of person you can know for years and suddenly you realize that after all this time spent together, you dont know much about them at all. she doesnt feel the need to open up, believing some things arent important for others to know [mostly because of her life "philosophy" or whatev u wann call it]
their fav colours are yellow and pink!!! pretty obvious since they LOVE wearing them, most of their closet is actually made up of clothing in those exact colours :3 if you ask her to pick between those 2 colours she will go on a rant about how its impossible to choose and will make the speech overly emotional and theatrical for no reason other than to mess with you
speaking of theatrical shes a HUGE wxs fan !!! she randomly saw their show one day when hanging out at the phoenix wonderland and LOVED IT!!! again, she loves every form of art so this was to be expected. emu especially caught their eye with her silly childlike wonder vibes, not to mention the pink hair was an immediate attention grab for yuno lmao. when they learn more about the troupe they grew to not only admire and respect them as performers but also on a more personal level, especially tsukasa and his leadership and sheer stage presence. i feel like tsukasa would definitely end up treating yuno like another one of his siblings tbh dkdghdjdhbd they have a pretty silly dynamic in my head
basically she thrives in any social setting, not everyone enjoys their company but shes not bothered by that at all and continues to do her own thing and being their silly energetic self, its no fun otherwise for them
she enjoys learning and wants to learn so many random things.. they also often just study how other people act and have a very strong interest in psychology and social stuff, you can often catch her staring and looking around at others with an oddly determined and focused look. despite her love of learning they do NOT enjoy school, mostly using it as a social space and an excuse to not be home. their grades are fine, but she finds most classes boring and only wants to learn stuff that interests her.
one of her hobbies includes fixing random stuff no matter how difficult with no experience because shes convinced she can just "figure it out" and it always works. they cant explain how they did it exactly but she will fix pretty much anything up somehow. everyone finds it a little scary because you can find her messing with electrical objects to fix them with zero clue on what to actually do to fix them. but they will always be fixed.
their only issue that they cant seem to brush off and follows them around no matter what is their fear of abandonment, she feels the constant need to be around people and have as many close friends as possible, they cant stand being alone. its no fun living when you have no one. they want to do their thing and have fun, but sometimes the self doubt creeps in and she starts wishing she was more normal. its a constant struggle for them, but they still tend to try and brush it off with some excuse like "i can always find someone else", and immediately feel weird about thinking that because who would want to replace their friends like that? this runs rlly deep btw and i wanna expand on this more when i figure out her backstory properly
so yeah, they stay silly but at what cost... /j
basically yuno is like. the embodiment of "i was born to love my friends and have a silly fun time"
i had way more thoughts but this is all i remember rn soooo BYE
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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years
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Ok you amazing person. Demon Sapnap, but the reader is really sick or maybe is in an accident and ends up in hospital. Sapnap and Dream both visit and get jealous of eachother. Eventually Dream leaves and Sapnap is just there like 👁👄👁 And then after a day or two the reader is finally home and Sapnap is like really pent up because he has been jealous Horny and reader has been in hospital and he just rails them, but softly because reader is still weak. Basically jealous soft-dom Demon Sapnap.
This is just an idea- by no means do you have to write it :)
I'm begrudgingly writing Dre as Mr. Steal Your Girl for obvious reasons (/ j), but also I couldn't pass down this idea for incubus 3 ;) I'm also going to include a few other requests I had about Sap's backstory and some smut. enjoy!
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𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 & 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒. ⛧ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬!𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩 (𝟏𝟖+)
warnings: smut (18+), spanking, degradation, thigh riding, domination, literally quoting the b!ble
here's a playlist for those of you that were asking for it. i would love to see what the rest of you are listening to :)
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You opened your eyes slowly, the ache in your body fully coming to your attention as you noticed the metronome of beeps coming from the machines connected to the tubes in your arm. You turned your head, squinting as your eyes struggled to focus on the figure beside you. After a few minutes, your brain pieced together his features and your heart eased when you realized it was Sapnap. For some, obviously ungodly reason, his presence brought you a sense of calm.
His feet were kicked up on the edge of your bed, his eyes scanning over a magazine as he chewed on his bottom lip absent-mindedly. He was dressed more casually than he usually was, probably an attempt at blending into the general public. You reached out a hand, fingers brushing against the soft material of his dark crewneck to get his attention. His gaze moved to look at you, a smirk painting across his pink lips.
You cleared your throat, tongue feeling like sandpaper. “What happened?” You grumbled, reaching beside him for the remote to elevate your head.
He watched your movements carefully. “You got a fever and then passed out cold,” he reminded you softly, making you groan. “Dehydration.” You couldn’t remember what he was talking about, only feeling nauseous in the middle of the night.
“How long have I been here?” You asked, rolling your head on your shoulders as your neck cracked, your limbs popping as you moved slightly. The IV pinched your arm as you moved, making you hiss quietly, making his eyes focus on where it was attached.
He hummed in thought. “A few hours. They wanna keep you until tomorrow, just in case you die or something,” he shrugged, tossing the magazine on the couch in the corner of the room.
You rubbed one of your eyes, a yawn rippling through you. “And why are you here?”
He chuckled. “Obvious reasons,” he stated, nodding towards the bite on your shoulder. “Also, Saint Dream was the first on your emergency contact list, so…” You pulled your knees to your chest as you looked at him.
“Even if it’s just because you have a quota to meet, I’m glad you’re here,” you muttered and something flickered behind his eyes, a smug expression tugging at his lips.
He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, feet planted on the ground. “You’re not part of my quota, baby.” Your cheeks flushed at his words but before you could respond, he tensed up, eyes clouding with a darkened gold. They always shifted when something was intruding. You furrowed your brows at him. “Lupus in fabula venit enim ad me,” he mumbled darkly, the venom of sarcasm dripping from his voice as a knock came at your door.
Clay stuck his head through the threshold, eyes softening at you. Sapnap watched him silently as he stepped inside, rambling off how worried he was about you. Clay seemed to ignore Sapnap’s presence as he settled a batch of roses on your nightstand. Sapnap rolled his eyes and once Clay finally acknowledged him, he made a face like he was smelling something rotten. Sapnap looked like he was ready to snap Clay in half if he approached you closer, yet his dark demeanor didn’t dissuade Clay. In fact, it seemed like Clay was hell-bent on ruffling his feathers more, pulling up a chair on the other side of you.
“I didn’t think he would be here,” Clay commented, voice dipping slightly as his sights shifted toward Sapnap, irises flashing brighter. You perked an eyebrow at him.
Sapnap scoffed, leaning back in his seat. “I’m here because she wants me here,” he commented, nearly with a boasting tone. “So, it seems like I’m in the right role to ask what the fuck you think you’re doing.” You kept silent as the two played their game of wits and egos.
Clay smirked at him as if he was in possession of some esoteric knowledge. It dawned on you that you weren’t sure how old either of them actually was. You had dated Clay for god knows how many years, yet you learned more about his past from Sapnap than you had in any of the years you were together. “It’s still in her best interest that she be given options that don’t involve your kind,” he gritted.
Sapnap laughed shortly, a cockiness settling into his appearance. “Oh yeah? In her best interest or in yours, you selfish prick.”
Clay’s jaw tensed, a sigh flooding from his nose. “We can do this more maturely, you know? Like fucking professionals.”
Sapnap shook his head. “I’m not up for negotiating,” the stated bluntly. “Go near her again and I’ll report you,” he assured, his deadpanned stare making your heartbeat quicken.
Clay swallowed, eyes glued to Sapnap’s as the pair of them flexed their dominant personalities. Clay’s eyebrow twitched as if he had thought of something, almost mockingly. “Begone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit,” he began, making Sapnap roll his eyes again before cutting into Clay’s quote.
“-enemy of man’s salvation. Give place to Christ in Whom you have found none of your works,” he mocked. “Try and exorcise me all you want, feather boy.”
Clay’s hand moved to curl around your wrist and Sapnap leaned against the bed, as if asking Clay to make his next move. “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour-“
“Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings,” Sapnap cantered without a thought. “It’s not even the right verse for this, stupid bitch,” he grumbled.
You cleared your throat, pulling your arm away from Clay and trying not to look as if you were slinking towards Sapnap. “You should leave,” you stated, Clay’s lips pursing at your words. “I need to rest.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sapnap’s sly expression cutting into Clay.
After spending another night in the hospital, you were finally unlocking your apartment door and letting Sapnap help you out of your coat. You mumbled something about getting yourself a drink and he brushed you off, already doing it himself. Your mind was racing with questions after what you had witnessed between Clay and Sapnap. You hadn’t doubted the authenticity of Sapnap, but your mind still ran with what had happened to him. He handed you a water, sitting down on your couch as you paced slightly.
He broke into your thoughts. “Go on, tell me what you’re thinking,” he stated, unbuttoning his shirt slightly. You wanted to hex him about the fact that he probably already knew what was pounding against your temples to be asked.
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, rolling over your questions to censor some of them. “The bible’s been translated and reprinted so many times, how are you still…” you gestured with your hands, unable to explain where you were going with your statement.
He chuckled, brushing a hand against his chin. “It really doesn’t matter if it’s actually God’s word or not. It’s a guide, like an outline. Rules, I guess. Think about it like the Constitution.”
“I thought demons like… burned up when someone quoted the bible at them…”
His face fell a bit at this. “No, we just can’t read it,” his tone was almost regretful, sending guilt to pulse through your body because you had asked. “It’s like it’s in a completely different language, and each time I look at it, it shifts around the page. When you get dragged into hell, something happens with your eyes.” He huffed slightly, wetting his lips. “It's kind of like an isolation thing. He wants you to be completely aside from him.”
Your mind clicked, eyeing your heirloom display case. “Can I try something?” You asked, popping open one of the doors after he hummed in response. You fished out your grandmother’s rosary, the cross feeling almost heavy in your hands. You turned on your heel, bringing it closer to him before dangling it in front of him. His eyes drifted away from it, his gaze turning up to you. “Does this bug you?” You probed, making him snort. He took it in his hand, thumb caressing over the design.
He shook his head, chewing on his lip. “It’s a shameful thing really. I feel guilty whenever I look at this kind of stuff,” he muttered; you sat on the arm of his chair and looked over his shoulder. He turned, looping it around your neck. “Does it bug you?”
You held it away from your chest. “For different reasons, I guess.” You stood again, putting it back in its spot beside a photo of your grandfather. “Why’d you get kicked out?” You queried softly, peering over your shoulder.
He was watching you. “Maybe another time.”
“What about your childhood?” You asked. “Did you have one?”
“I know more about your childhood than I do my own. Why all the questions?” He countered with a soft laugh.
You shrugged. “I want to get to know you…” You mumbled, your hand drifting up to rest on your shoulder, feeling heat coming off of his scaring bite mark. “How do you know when to show up?”
He sighed, leaning his back against the chair and stretching his legs. “I can feel when you get anxious. Angels have some kind of block though, that’s why it took me so long to realize you needed me when that bastard was over here.” He shook his head almost like a new fire about Dream had been lit. His eyes flickered up to you. “Unless you weren’t scared.” You shook your head quickly at his joke. He chuckled. “How does it make you feel that I’m in your head sometimes?”
You approached him again. “Narcissistic,” you answered plainly, sinking to your knees before him. You ran your hands up his thighs, a smirk growing on his features as he sat up to be closer to you. “What happens after I die? Eternal damnation?” You questioned, as his hand went to brush against your arms.
He pressed his lips to your neck before digging his fingers into your hair as if he’d been waiting to touch you for days. You hummed as he kissed you, the slight scruff of his unshaven face feeling soft against your cheek. “You shouldn’t have to worry about that. I think I’ll make you immortal or something. Being with me should be enough damnation,” he jeered, making you laugh. “Most of my colleagues take the souls of their targets and leave, but I enjoy your company,” he teased.
“But you already have my soul, right?” The line felt strange coming from your mouth.
His lips brushed against yours. “There’s still an innocent piece of you that I haven’t tapped into. Everyone has it; I like it in you.”
Your eyebrows perked at this, fingers digging into his thighs to make him groan. “What do you mean?”
He kissed you briefly, actions getting needier the longer you were between his legs. “It’s completely pure. Untampered by sin or desire. When a demon gets it, they go feral,” he mumbled, nose pressing into the crook of your neck, teeth dragging across your skin.
You tilted your head to the side, fingers tracing over his zipper. “Take it from me,” you breathed, leaning into his touch.
“No,” he answered blatantly.
You moaned as his tongue slipped against your collarbones. “I want you to have it,” you continued, voice uneven. His fingers tugged at your hair.
His breath was warm against your shoulders. “I’ll take it after a few years. I don’t want it now.”
You pushed him away from you, his eyes already blown with lust as you looked into them. “You just said demons want it so badly. Take mine.”
He chuckled, hands dropping to your jaw. “No,” he repeated, voice light.
You sat back on your heels, looking up at him with a tilted expression. “Is mine not good enough for you?”
He wheezed. “No, it’s perfect. I just… After I take it, it’s like you’re dead. You’re not the same. Your humanity is gone.” He pulled you back up towards him. “I’ll take it when I’m ready to escort you to hell.”
You quipped an eyebrow. “Oh, so you just don’t want me to see your place?” You joked, making him roll his eyes. “Maybe Clay was right. What’s the verse about confession?”
His eyes darkened playfully. “For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.” It was mind boggling how he could probably quote the whole Bible and was as… sinful… as he was. “Bring up Dream again, and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.”
Your eyelashes fluttered. “You bargain for a fun game," you quipped.
He chuckled darkly. "It was more a light-hearted threat, dove," he muttered.
You sat forward and pressed your lips against his hungrily, letting him pull you into his lap as his fingers curled into the loose ends of your hair. Your fingers ripped at the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest to you as he tugged at your own clothing. Your teeth dragged against his lips as his hips ground up against you, needy for friction.
You pushed your tongue into his mouth, moaning as his hands moved to your thighs, his blunt nails raking against your jeans. You rolled your hips against his lap, feeling him harden beneath you. He spread his legs further, coaxing you to grind against him as his hands pushed you down to rut against his leg.
You were breathless as you pulled away from him, one of his hands fisting in your t-shirt to bring you close to him, lips and tongue pressing against your neck. "I didn't tell you to stop riding my thigh," he commented darkly, bouncing his knee to make you moan.
Your hand wrapped around the wrist of his hand holding you in place, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as heat spread across your body. He pulled your shirt over your head, your bare chest at his mercy. Your mind blurred at the sensation and the feeling of him sucking his mark into your skin, making it clear who you belonged to.
You moaned, digging your face into his neck as he rolled his hips against your leg. "Please, Sapnap. I need you," you whimpered, voice a soft whisper in his ear. He chuckled darkly, ripping your pants down your legs as you fumbled to unzip his slacks.
He pulled you onto him without warning, a groan leaving your lips as he suddenly filled you up. "Bold of you to beg for me after associating with that bastard," he bit, thrusting up into you. "I should tie you up and let you suffer for that."
You moaned at his dark tone, grinding your hips against him. Your lips ghosted against his as your cheeks began to feel warm from the stimulation. "I might like that," you jested, your sentence breaking with your voice as he harshly grabbed your hips, driving himself into you harder.
"You're lucky you're still weak," he nipped, voice swirling with lust and power. "I'd throw you over my knee for that comment." His fingers dug into your hips, grinding against you as you bounced on top of him. You moaned at his words. His hand snaked up to wrap around your throat, threatening to apply pressure as he continued to direct your movements, thrusting into you at a deep and reserved pace. "Dirty girl. You want me to punish you, don't you?"
When all you could do was mutter a small beg, he pulled you closer to him, lips meeting yours in a mess of hair, teeth, and tongue. He moaned into your mouth, the taste of his breath was addictive and bliss-inducing.
He pulled you off of him and onto the couch beside him, slipping his shirt the rest of the way off. "I'll fuck the angel lover out of you," he joshed, a hand coming down sharply across your ass; the pain making you moan his name, hands gripping the couch as he pressed your shoulders into the cushion.
He dragged your hips into the air, pushing into you again, rocking his hips against yours with a small grunt. His teeth were sharp against your skin as he pounded into you and an animalistic pace, your mind numbing at the feeling. He pushed your knees further apart to pump himself deeper into you.
You moaned as his weight settled on the hand pinning you to the couch, your hair sticking to your sweaty face as he spanked you again, hand gripping your irritated skin. "Good girl. Take it," he nearly growled, making your skin crawl with an added layer of pleasure. While his pace and mannerisms were ruthless, he was definitely holding back, knowingly going easy on you because of your already weak body. That didn't mean he wasn't reminding you of your sour attitude as he pulled your arm behind your back, his hips snapping against your own to firmly instill his name in your mind.
You reached for the arm rest, a grounding element for you as his motions drove you over the edge in a teeth gritting orgasm, boy flushing with goosebumps under his command. You rocked your hips back against him as he pulled out, jerking himself off instead of giving you the satisfaction of finishing him off.
You groaned as you turned to look at him. "Feeling okay?" He asked, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade. You shook your head quickly and his eyebrow quipped ever so slightly. "Good," he stated, pulling you up and onto the ground in front of him again. He grabbed your cheeks. "I still don't think you've learned," he muttered, leaning back into his previous position. "Blow me," he directed, tucking an arm behind his head. "And with the mouth, one confesses and is saved, remember," he taunted.
Your eyes flashed up to his devious expression as he leered at you from his commanding spot.
It was going to be a long night.
And you were ready for it.
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caramelcal · 3 years
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His Favorite Girl
a/n: HELLO. (sounding like the guy in the cinema cba lol) anyways I have returned for a brief period of time to share this update with you guys. It’s based off of this request here: “ Do you think you could write a Luke x gang again where maybe he has to leave for work during sex and the reader touches herself out of frustration and he comes back and finds her ?” 
STOP BECAUSE THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT THE REQUESTER WANTED BUT ILL WRITE SOMETHING AGAIN BUT LIKE JUST TH REQUEST IF THATS WHAT YOU GUYS WANT SDGHGDFGBH but this is kinda a part 2 to the Bambi/His Favorite Secret series thingy cause a few people wanted that! thank you guys so much for all the love mwah
i should literally be studying rn but im not so <3 im very sorry for this abomination lol
sorry for the long a/n guys! :( enjoy x 
word count: 3.4k
warnings: smutty stuff (fucking, fingering, anal and all that...ive never written this before so PLS PLS PLS give me feedback omg) uh choking, doesn’t have a daddy kink in this but sir is mentioned. talks of being tied up and being tied up? talks about overstim... he calls her little girl at one point...
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“Luke! Stop moving!” She lightly slapped her boyfriend’s hand, to which he groaned in return. Her tongue stuck out slightly from between her lips in concentration, eyebrows furrowing as she returned to the task she had firmly put her mind to. That was, until the blond giant moved again, “Luke!”
“Bambi,” Luke echoed lightly, using his nickname for the smaller girl in front of him who looked up at him with an unimpressed facial expression.
“You’re gonna ruin it,” She mumbled lightly, pointing back down at her artwork which Luke only then first looked at. It was safe to say, although he shouldn’t have been, he was thoroughly shocked.
His nails, which his girl had somehow managed to convince him into painting weren’t black, or blue. No, they were bright, blasting, hot pink. He groaned lightly, wondering just how exactly she had managed to rope him into this and just how he was going to hide his nails from the rest of the gang later on tonight when he -they- met up with them tonight.
She was a bundle of both nerves and excitement, finally getting to meet Luke’s closest friends. It had been about a week since their argument, and now she was meeting his friends. It seemed like everything was moving in the right direction, thankfully. She couldn’t wait to be honest, very much looking forward to being able to hear more about Luke from his friends, and just meeting them in general.
They seemed fun.
Well, as fun as gang members could be. She probably should have been more cautious surrounding them, but Luke got her guard down so quickly and she was yet to regret that. How scary could they possibly be considering the man in front of her, soft blond curls held back by her bunny bath headband, nails painted hot pink, was supposed to be the scariest man in the whole city.
“Cal’s gonna rip the piss outta me for this, Bambi,” He complained softly, with no plans to take the polish off of his nails as he looked at his girlfriend, between his legs, small hand wrapped around the bottle of nail polish with her other hand laying against his knee.
She couldn’t help the small upturn of her lips as she blew softly against the nail polish on his fingernails, not patient enough to let it airdry despite it being a fast-drying polish. She shrugged lightly, head flopping to the side adorably as Luke stared down at her, resisting the urge to run his hands through her hair; another issue he had with the wet paint on his fingernails.
“I think it looks great, we’re matching,” She then flaunted the bright pink color that coated her own nails, and Luke’s lips twitched into a grin, careful not to ‘aww’ at the cute words that came out of the smaller girl’s mouth.
He hummed lightly, leaning back against the couch but his baby blues never leaving her face, “They look a lot better on you than they do me, Bambi.”
“I think they’re cute,” The girl climbed onto his lap, making Luke take a deep intake of breath as she sits barely an inch away from a rather sensitive area of his. She, however, seemed to pay no attention to the risen area of his jeans as she leaned against his chest, face hidden in the crook of his neck, soft breaths from her mouth fanning against his neck.
He twisted to give her a small kiss on the forehead, to which she responds by kissing his neck softly, lips staying against his neck as her hand traveled up his stomach up to his neck, holding him close as she began to kiss the base of his neck more.
“Lu,” She whispered softly, “How much time have we got?”
“Like an hour, baby. Why?”
However, the girl never replied verbally, and instead repositioned herself carefully, Luke’s neck void from her warmth before her hand started to travel down, painfully slow, until it landed right above the tent in his jeans. His eyes traveled up to meet hers, eyebrow raised as she dropped her hand down barely, lips struggling to pull the smirk away.
He lifted his hands to her back, going to reposition her before she shook her head, “Your nail polish, Lu. Hands down.”
His hands didn’t move, frozen in place around her clothed waist. His nails were long since dried, she knew that, but she liked this. She liked the intake of breath he took when her hand ghosted over the hardened cock in his jeans, the way he couldn’t lift his hands; scared to smudge the pink on his nails.
He was restricted. Oh, how the tables had turned.
Her hand gently palmed against his hardened, clothed cock, causing a grumble to emit from his throat. It was a deep rumbling sound, -something that the girl had heard numerous times but would never get used to.
To her, everything about Luke was perfect, even his moans.
“Bambi, you know the rules about teasing-”
Her lips attached to his, cutting him off rather efficiently, pressing softly as she continued to palm him through his jeans, gently rocking on his thigh. He moaned into their kiss, her tongue, as a reflex, finding its way into his mouth. Their tongues pressed against one another, lips still pressed together as her spare hand crawled up to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls.
Her palm pressed into his fully hardened cock now, his tongue swiping over her lips before tugging on it, pulling apart, breathless. His hands found a place on her waist, guiding her softly but firmly, taking back the control he craved.
Looking her straight in the eyes, one of Luke’s hands went around her neck, thumb pulling her lower lip down as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, taking his cock out of its confined clothing and bringing her hand down to hold onto it. It wasn’t the first time that she had given him a handjob, and it wouldn’t be the last, but she still couldn’t help but be nervous.
Despite not being a virgin when she met Luke, she still lacked a lot of experience that Luke definitely had. She knew that he would never judge her, but that never stopped the nerves that festered.
“All shy all of a sudden, Bambi?” He mocked, hand around her neck tightening as he bit down on her ear lobe, gently tugging at it before letting out a breath, “All big and brave, teasing Sir, aren’t you? If you’re going to start it, then you’re going to finish it. On your knees. Now.”
Releasing a shaky breath, the girl clambered out of Luke’s lap dropping to the floor, in a similar position to the one she had been in minutes before, only in a more sexual manner. Her lips met the tip of his cock, tongue lightly swiping across the base.
His hand grabbed firmly onto the hair on the back of her head, holding her steady as she got used to the feeling of his cock in her mouth before thrusting against her. She gagged as it hit the back of her throat, sending vibrations up him, releasing a deep moan from his throat.
“Suck, little girl,” Luke commanded deeply, leaving no room for argument as the smaller girl abided to his command, tongue swiping over him as she reached up to cover the last part of his cock with her hand.
Yet, she didn’t get much further when a ringing sounded through the room, Luke groaning but ultimately pulling away from the girl who stayed on the floor, watching Luke as he grabbed his phone.
“What?” He gritted his teeth lightly, trying to keep his frustration at bay after being interrupted.
He sighed softly, not looking at the small girl with furrowed eyebrows still on the floor as he pulled his jeans back up, clambering to get shoes on and getting ready to leave, hanging the phone up.
“Luke what’s going on?”
“Gang shit, Bambi. I gotta get going, be ready for six, we’re meeting Cal, Ash, and Mike later, remember?” He offered her no more words, but she can tell he isn’t angry at her, just due to their interruption.
However, she can’t help but be frustrated at the interruption, waiting until after Luke leaves to huff and puff about it before starting to get ready.
. . .
“Luke has this old penguin fan account on Instagram from like seven years ago. There’s this one picture on there with him with a penguin hat-”
“Cal, stop,” Luke interrupted Cal swiftly, an arm going around his smaller girlfriend’s waist who looked far too amused by the embarrassing things about Luke that Cal was telling.
“No, no, Calum please keep going. Please,” The girl begged, feeling very comfortable around the Maori boy. They were pleasant, to her at least, and so far they had made her feel very comfortable and very much at home. It was hard to believe that the people joking with her where infamous mobsters, ones that were feared all across the city, and state. 
They had met in Ashton’s house, who she had already met before, at six o’clock. It turns out gang members like to be punctual, or maybe it was only these ones.
Luke was in a bit of a hurry once he arrived back home, with no time to finish what he and his girl had started before he had to leave in a hurry, leaving her oh so frustrated. This was only magnified when she saw him afterward, ready to head to Ash’s in that pale pink silk button-up that only seemed like it would suit him; like it was made specifically for him.
Maybe it was.
Luke was never shy of customized clothing, cars, or anything he wanted honestly. If you have the money, why not? Was always his answer when she asked why he seemed to wear all of these expensive items. If it wasn’t custom-made, it was a high-quality designer that he wore, she rarely ever found him in anything that didn’t smell of cash and high-class, -far too expensive but albeit intoxicating- cologne.
This money of Luke’s also happened to extend to her also. He was never shy of picking her up a few things, letting her have his card for shopping and now, he started going out shopping with her too. He didn’t look like the type that would go out with his ‘girlfriend’ or anyone, but in the case of her, he followed her around like a lost puppy; willing to hold her bags, let her drain his bank account. Not that she did, anyway. She was still mindful, even if Luke had more money than he knew what to do with.
“Nah, can’t. Don’t want Luke to kill me for embarrassing me in front of his precious little girlfriend,” Calum teased lightly, shaking his head as his eyes darted to meet Luke’s baby blues. Truthfully, Luke could pretend to be annoyed at Cal and the rest for exposing his old penguin Instagram account but he was just glad to see them getting along with the girl that owned his heart.
She was the first girlfriend that his best friends seemed to approve of. He didn’t normally bring his girlfriends to meet them, but the ones he did, the boys he called his best friends didn’t usually like them. For the first time, Luke could actually see a future with the girl in front of him, beamingly smiling as Cal and Michael joke about with her and laughing at their attempts of humor.
God, he loved her.
“So, do you think they like me?” She asked the moment they got home, the door shut behind them. Luke turned around, staring at the wide-eyed girl with a small smile on his lips.
Did she seriously not realize how much they liked her? Especially with how much joking that they had done with her, he was certain that she would have realized but then again, she wasn’t the most self-assured person when it comes to new people. He nodded his head, “Yeah, Bambi. They really liked you.”
Luke would never get over the way her eyes sparkled, his smile only growing. She looked amazing in that red silky dress that he had bought her, and he looked just as good in the coral colored button-up he was wearing.
Their lips met softly, Luke bending down slightly to meet her lips as the girl went up on her tiptoes, bare feet on the top of Luke’s shoes. He didn’t mind, in fact, he barely even realized as he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip for access which she quickly gave him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, one entangling in his blond curls, while his went around her waist and one under her ass, lifting her up.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, lips never breaking away from his as she moaned into the kiss. She pushed herself closer to him as the kiss heated up, eyes closed as Luke tried his best to navigate the way to their bedroom. Thankfully, even with his eyes partially closed and completely distracted by the soft lips on his, he managed to get there, fumbling with the doorknob before kicking the door open.
Luke pulled away quickly to get a breath, now at the edge of the bed as his mouth went to the side of her face, pressing kisses along her neck before whispering in a sinfully sultry voice, “Let’s finish what we started earlier, huh?”
With that, she was placed down on the bed, staring at Luke with a glaze in her eyes, lust, lips slightly swollen as he pushed her dress up, nudging her underwear to the side. His fingers ghosted over her pussy, making her take a ragged intake of breath. He was on top of her, watching her as she awaited every movement of his fingers, completely helpless under his touch.
“So wet for me, baby,” He murmured, pressing a few chaste kisses against the base of her neck as he rubbed her slit. She didn’t reply just yet, whining lightly when he slowed down his movements, coming to a stop, “Tell me what you want baby.”
“You, Lu. I want you, sir,” Her words flooded out of her mouth quickly, the aching between her legs becoming too much. If Luke didn’t do something about it soon then she would have to. She stared up at his smirking face above her. His fingers pulled away from her, making her whine as he reached for his belt, skillfully unbuckling it and letting his cock spring free from its confines.
He looked up at her as he repositioned himself, her squirming with need beneath him before he lined his tip at her entrance, baby blues meeting her eyes, “You sure?”
She nodded vigorously in return, but Luke didn’t move, commanding lightly, “Words, baby.”
“Please Luke, I’m sure. Please fuck me.” He swatted her thigh at the sound of the swear falling from her lips but obliged nonetheless, plunging deep into her letting out a moan, her strangled moan following behind.
He plunged in once again, hitting a spot that made her whimper and moan at the same time, hands reaching around to his back, clawing on the now exposed skin. Luke’s hips are flushed against hers as he goes deep inside of her once again, both moaning.
“Fuck, Bambi,”
Luke’s pace quickened, thrusts becoming sloppier as he continued to thrust into her, hitting her sweet spot over and over, moans filling the room with small pleads from her and soft curses from him.
Then a phone went off. Luke froze inside of her, and she groaned, sweaty, a mess, and incredibly sexually frustrated. She could feel Luke sitting inside of her; how big he was. She thought that he was going to ignore the phone call, to continue something that they were robbed of earlier. He wasn’t really going to let them be interrupted twice today, was he?
He reached over to the bedside table, picking his phone up and looking at the caller ID before sighing. He pulled out of her, baby blues looking at her with a frown, “I need to take this.”
“Luke,” It was a plead. For him to stay with her, to let them finish what they started. She shuffled lightly until she was sitting in front of him, on her knees. Her hand went to the side of his face, caressing it gently as she put her face at his neck, “Stay with me, Sir. I need you.”
He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but he wasn’t going to fall for it. He pulled away from her, gripping onto her side as a warning with his free hand, “No, Bambi.”
His voice was low, a warning for her to stop what she was doing as he sent her a pointed look. He didn’t even let her make another move or get another word in before he was back in his jeans and walking out of the room, leaving her alone.
The seconds that she was alone turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into ten, then fifteen. She shifted uncomfortably, still on edge and incredibly frustrated. It didn’t seem like Luke was coming back as he had left without saying goodbye or telling her where he was going to be or how long. Was this all because she had tried to get him to stay?
Well, if he wasn’t going to get back, she would have to take stuff into her own hands. Leaning back, her hand reached her own clit, rubbing desperately, basking in the feeling once again. This time, she would get the job done.
Her fingers slipped inside of her, curling into her, moans softly filtering out of her lips. She was close, her fingers covered in her own slick as she continued to curl her hands into herself, soft pants falling from her lips as she spread her legs more to get a better angle, trying to go deeper.
Her hands would never be as good as Luke’s though, her small fingers not holding a torch to his digits. He knew everything that made her squirm, even better than she did, he had her all decoded, knew how to navigate her better than anyone else ever could.
“Baby I need to get-” Luke opened the door, stopping when his eyes met her figure on the middle of the bed, fingers inside of her as soft breaths fell from her lips. Her head titled back, eyes lidded as he froze on the spot before a smirk made its way onto his face.
“Really?” He asked incredulously, sauntering up to the bed before grabbing onto her wrist, pulling her fingers out of her desperate cunt making her whine. Her eyes met his, which never strayed, even after he brought her hand up to his mouth and swirling his tongue around her slick-covered digits.
“Lu-”
“Quiet,” He shut her up quickly, voice hard and commanding, something that made nerves bundle in her stomach and turned her on even more. He stood up again, sauntering over to the dresser before pulling a belt from the top of it, grabbing her hands and confining them with the thick leather, “Since you can’t keep your hands off of that pretty little pussy of mine, I guess we’re going to have to do something about that.”
Luke pulled her up to the headboard, hooping the leather around there and tightening it. When he let go, she pulled against the leather restraints, only to find her hands unable to move from their position at the headboard.
“So desperate to cum, baby? Well, you’ll be desperate to stop after I make you come over and over until there’s no more cum left in your body and you're writhing beneath me. Do you understand me, baby?”
“Yes Sir,” She whimpered out in return, nodding her head as she breathed heavily, watching Luke’s hand as it trailed teasingly down her side until it reached her pussy, a finger flicking up and down it, making her hips jerk up.
“But first of all, I need to go deal with the drug run. See you later, Bambi.”
And with a smirk on his face, Luke left his girlfriend there, tied up to the bed, whining for him to come back. And he would, and when he did, she wouldn’t be walking for days afterward.
287 notes · View notes
roger-that-cap · 3 years
Text
tolerate it
part 2/2 of cardigan!
so, this is the follow up to my first ever one shot (guess not anymore LMAO) up here! i sincerely hope that you guys like this, because it was like pulling teeth for this one. every now and again i’d find a golden one and smack it in there and hope that one decent line made up for all the others.
natasha romanoff x fem!reader
this was the hardest thing ive ever had to write (simply because there was so much emotion in it and it was hard to reel myself back in just to cast out again) and i had to write a paper on nathaniel hawthorne.
warnings: pretty angsty for me, bittersweet, um- why do i write angst, DRAMATICS hahaha
word count: 4.5k!
would like to remind you that i do not own taylor swift songs! this one borrows a little from tolerate it, the best song on evermore imho (tied with coney island).
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You knew that opening the door was going to be a hard part, but what you didn’t prepare for was actually listening to her. You could have stared at her for eternity in silence, just harping on everything good and bad that ever happened between the two of you. You could imagine a thousand different scenarios where the two of you were happy and none of this had occurred, but that wasn’t the case. She didn’t come to you to stare and leave.
“Thank you,” Natasha said, her voice throaty as she took a cautious first step into your space. Your space. It sounded weird, and you knew that it felt weird to her. You two had shared everything for the longest, and now you had your own place to live in. “Thank you for letting me in.”
“You came to talk,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, and she didn’t miss the obvious tell of your body language. “I won’t make you waste your time. Say your piece, and then...” you trailed off, both of you knowing full well where you were going with it. 
“Can I just start with the fact that I’m so sorry,” she blurted, and you have her an unamused look as you sat on your couch, and she sat on the edge of it. “And that I don’t know why that happened. I don’t expect for you to ever forgive me, and I don’t forgive myself. I won’t ever forgive myself for hurting you so badly, and having such a lapse in judgement. I’m sorry.”
“What was it that was different?” You asked, the question that had been haunting you for a while now finally escaping your lips. When she gave you a confused look, you stared back at her. “What was so different about whatever happened on the mission?”
You didn’t ask what you did wrong, because you didn’t do anything wrong. It took you weeks to know that, weeks to come to the conclusion, but you knew. It wasn’t anything that you lacked, it was something that Natasha did. Whether it was loyalty, restraint, a moral compass, or even something else, you didn’t think that it was you.
“There was nothing different.”
You were trying to hold it together, but you knew that you were seconds from falling apart right in front of the person who had destroyed you. “You don’t have to lie.”
She made a face. “There wasn’t. There was nothing about her that was better than you, I swear.”
But there was nothing different. There was nothing different in the way that you held her to the way that Abigail did, then. There must have been nothing different in the way that you kissed her in the morning. Nothing special about how you would dance with her on the third of the month simply because you liked the number three. There was nothing special about the way you held her hand and rubbed her back and sometimes sang her to sleep when she needed it. And there was certainly nothing different or special about the way that you let her put her head on your chest, just so that she could hear your heart beating.
Maybe what you did was different or special to you and not to her. And maybe it was time for you to finally realize it, whether it hurt or not.
Your emotions were threatening to come through, and you couldn’t have that happen. “I thought you came to talk. Talking requires truth.”
“I did,” she rushed, and then she sighed and wiped her palms on her thighs. You knew what that was. Of course you knew what she was. That was her being nervous. “I just wanted you to know that I love you, I love you so much, no matter what you choose. I never meant for any of it to happen, and I hate myself for making you feel that way.”
“You knew what happened with the others,” you said, and you knew that she knew that you were talking about the men who used to cheat on you without thinking twice. You saw her wince. “You knew how I felt about dishonesty. You knew how long it took me to be fully trusting of you, and you ruined it for two months of fun?”
“I know I did.”
“Do you know that, Natasha?” You asked, your voice starting to raise a bit. “I trusted you, and then I gave you everything I had. There wasn’t a piece of me that wasn’t for you, don’t you get that? I painted a portrait of us with the best colors I had and you opened the door on me doing the finishing touches and threw black paint over it.”
She was surprised that you were actually allowing yourself to be angry, and that made you even more upset. You were allowed to be pissed. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out, a thin layer of tears in her eyes.
“I did- I had everything lying out on the table for you emotionally. It was wrapped so pretty for you when I helped you through your own stuff, and it waited until you were ready. There wasn’t a thing you didn’t know, not a secret kept from you. And I still can’t believe that you returned me being in love with you, with that.”
“It didn’t mean anything to me. None of it meant anything to me at all, I swear.”
“It meant something to Abigail,” you said, and you saw her flinch. “It meant something to the girl that told you that she loved you. And if I’m not mistaken, you told her the same. So did it really not mean something, or are you an even larger liar than I thought?”
“It didn’t mean anything.” For a spy, she was quite easy to read. Or maybe you just spent so much time knowing her that it was impossible to not know her inside and out. You knew her every movement that she made when she lied, and you knew what she looked like when she was telling the truth. This, this wasn’t it.
And it destroyed you.
“Don’t you understand how that feels? It feels like being cut a thousand times by the fancy blade that you made yourself. It feels like being bitten by your own dog. It feels like being nearly drowned in the oceans that you’ve swam in for forever. We were so close! We were so close that I was sure that we were predestined or some of that cheesy shit, Natasha. I could have sworn that we were meant for each other, but now I know that we were, because the betrayal that you did cut me down into a million pieces. That was something that neither of the others were able to do. That’s something that only you could do, and I trusted you not to do it. I never thought you could do it. I thought that you loved me far too much to pull the shit that you did.
“Maybe I was foolish enough to make the knife right in front of you, but I trusted you to know it was there and not use it against me. And you still stabbed me with it.” Your voice cracked and you could feel warm tears falling into your hand, but you didn’t care. You had to keep going. “How could you see me give and give and give to you, for you, and then tolerate it and go see someone else?”
She was breathing heavily after your rant, like she had spoken the words instead. A singular tear came down her face, and you thanked whoever was sitting above and watching for the crack in her mask. You were begging to see her half as emotional as you, half as hurt by her own actions.
You knew that it was different when you saw her wipe her tear. She never wiped her tears around you. You were the only one who got to see them, but you supposed not even you were allowed to see it anymore.
“I can’t even begin-” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I regret what happened.”
“How do you regret-” you pursed your lips and shook your head, closing your eyes for a second as your heart clenched. “How do you regret falling in love with someone?”
“I don’t love her-”
“Do you love me?” You asked.
“More than I love anything else in the entire world.”
“You loved her more if you risked me losing me, Natasha.” You said, and her brows shot up at your conclusion. “You know what would happen if you did that to me and I found out. You knew you would lose me, and you did it anyway. So you two must have had something special. Congrats.”
“No, you’re-”
The temper that you tried to keep in check was bubbling over again, and you realized that there was no checking yourself. “Do you know how long I waited for you and never cheated? Never had sex with anyone else, never went on a date with anyone else? For just as long as you were supposed to! And I managed! So what’s wrong with you?”
“Y/N, I think we should calm down a little. Let’s talk it out for a second.”
“I’ve been talking it out. All by myself, actually, because you’re too afraid to do a damn thing and admit that you fucked up for two months straight.” You closed your eyes again as you felt the hurt come back up. “How do I know it was just that time? How do I know that?”
There was a silence that spoke volumes. “You don’t.”
“And what if we got back together, after all of this?” It was hypothetical, but seeing the hope perk up in her sparked something that you hadn’t felt towards her in forever. Or, you had, it was just smothered by the heat of your fury. “How would I know that you aren’t off pulling the same thing you did earlier?”
“You’d have to trust me.”
“Well, I can’t do that. I literally can’t,” you cried out, putting your head in your hands and shaking you head. It was quiet except for the sounds of your cries, and it was ominous. There was never a quiet moment between you and Natasha, but you were dying out, fizzling away. You already had your Big Bang, now you were creating black holes that would forever remain on opposite sides of the universe. And you both knew it.
“You- you humiliated me,” you shook your head from left to right again, face still hidden. “You had an affair with a younger girl, you did it in front of the people I shared a living space with. You did it shamelessly in front of the people I cooked meals for every day, the people who’s fucking uniforms I ironed! They were my friends too, Natasha, and you humiliated me. You made them keep your dirty secret, did you apologize to them?”
“I haven’t spoken to them much.”
“I had to figure out from Pepper in front of the wedding dress store,” you continued, your throat tightening. “I was there getting the dress that I was going to walk down the aisle in. Everything was perfect, and then you did something that shattered what I thought couldn’t be broken.” You had thought that you and Natasha were rock solid, the hardest stone. You two were diamonds that sparkled and prevailed together, until you learned that you were truly just glass.
She leaned forward, giving you a look that you knew meant honesty. But it was far too late for that, and it wasn’t going to do Natasha much good now. “I wish every second of the day that I didn’t do it, Y/N. Every second of every day.”
Your lips turned into a scowl. “Wishing doesn’t do anything for us. We’re not little kids and we’re not princesses.”
That word, wishing, must have been the one to do her in, because she was sobbing right into her own sleeve, an arm covering her eyes from your sight. Your tears were subsiding, and you watched her with thinly pressed lips. Watching her cry was never pleasant.
“I’m so, so sorry. I can’t- I can’t imagine how you must feel, but I’m so sorry. I don’t know why- I can only apologize to you and beg that you’ll welcome me back to you, where I’m supposed to be.” Your eye twitched as you listened, and told yourself to keep your strength up. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, baby, but I know now. I know who I’m meant to be with, and it wasn't her. It’s you, it always has been.”
You knew that. You had always known that. It was a fact, something that had always rang as true as the beating of your own heart. You knew that it was written in the stars for you by some gracious god who decided to reveal what could have been your present and future to you, but you guess the other half of the tale never saw it herself. She knew now, sure. But she learned a little too late for your taste.
“Please, you have to know. You have to know that I didn’t- that I would never do it again.” 
How could you tell someone that their apology wasn’t enough? How could you reject someone when they were at their lowest point? How were you going to find the strength in yourself to turn down the woman that you still very much loved? The one that you thought that you lost to another was right in front of you, begging for a second chance, but was it right for you to give it to her?
But how could she see you at your most vulnerable every day and know that you loved and cared for her with your whole heart and still do what she did? How was she okay with ruining you after all that you had been through? How did she not feel bad for two months about betraying the one person who she knew would be forever in her corner?
Whatever her method was to do things that hurt the people she supposedly loved, she found a way. And so would you.
“Have you said what you needed to?” You asked, your tone slow and deliberate as you fought for your tears not to ruin your words. Just as slowly, she nodded. “Then, please leave.”
A noise left her throat. “Please, wait. Wait.”
“There’s nothing left to say, Nat. We said it all.” You stood up, and she followed. “Fix your relationships at the tower, alright?”
“Don’t,” she muttered, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t tell me that you don’t want to try and then act like you care about me.”
You both walked to the door, because you knew that I the end she would do what you asked of her. “We were friends first.” You insisted. “We were friends first, Natasha, so I care. So, because we were friends first, I’ll tell you to get better. Work on yourself. Fall in love with someone else. Maybe not with two people at the same time.”
Her face was utterly pitiful. Her eyes were watering in a way you had never seen them do before, and her hands were shaking. You had seen the most of Natasha that anyone had in the entire world, yet you had never seen her so torn apart, so open. She laid it all out for you like you had been doing for her for years, and now you were finally the one to ruin the pretty picture. “Please.” 
As soft as a gentle breeze came your next word. “No.” You yanked your apartment door open, and then you were both shivering. She looked up at you, her face full of an expression of the most shattered you had seen her yet, and the part of you that still ached prayed that it would be the last time you would ever see her at all.
Your body moved on its own. It asked for one more point of contact, just one more before you deprived yourself from the person you loved the most. Your lips pressed against the crown of her head as you told yourself it was for your own good. Your eyes shut as you put your hands on her shoulders, and tears were turning spots of her red hair dark. She was shaking underneath you, crying even harder than you were. You pulled away from her and opened the door wider.
“Wish you all the best, Nat.”
She walked away, off of your porch and into the night. You shut the door.
§§
You figured that you would miss her, but it wasn’t as bad as it was in the early part of leaving. By the time you moved on, it was far past the date of the wedding and even further past your anniversary. Sometimes it still hurt to think about how your life could have been had she chosen to stay faithful, but you learned that the scenarios hurt more than they helped and stopped.
You had a steady job, could keep up with the rent on your apartment, had enough for groceries and even had spare to get your nails done if you wanted to. You were doing it all, and you were doing it well after being attached at the hip to someone else for years and years.
There was a time where you would have thought that living without Natasha would be excruciating. The first night after you stormed out and cried yourself to sleep, you were sure that it would be painful, every night without her next to you would be like a stab in the gut. But after a while, it really wasn’t.
At first, it was. You missed her terribly, and, a part of you still did. You missed the good things that happened, but you realized that the good didn’t erase the bad, and that the bad didn’t erase the good. So, after a long time of thinking about her, your stance on Natasha Romanoff wasn’t hateful, or upset, or vengeful. You barely had one.
You thought about her and saw a book that you had finished reading a long time ago. Impactful at the time you read it, of course, and it could leave a longing imprint, but it was over. You could never relive that exact moment ever again that you read her, not a good one or a bad one. The hardest, most intense part of it was over, so far behind you that you could breathe again. 
And damn, did it feel good to breathe. 
§§§
Seeing her was awkward, and it was something that came straight out of your outdated imagination. You were by yourself buying apples at the market that you always went to because you adored fresh fruit, checking for bruises on them that were never there. You were carrying four in a bag with a content look on your face, just walking around and looking at other fruits and vegetables when you felt someone’s eyes on you. You looked up.
Sam Wilson was looking right at you, his jaw a little slack as he recognized you. You hadn’t seen him since you stormed out of the compound god knows how long ago. Within seconds, your life at the tower and memories with him flashed in your head. You two would cook together side by side often, and that's where you would do most of your bonding and talking with him. Your heart clenched for a moment, and then you raised the hand that wasn’t occupied and gave him a wave and a half smile, one that you hoped told him that you weren’t angry.
You looked back to the vegetables and then at the sign on the table. Damn, that’s kind of expensive. You shrugged your shoulders and put the greens on the weighing machine anyway, and pulled the money out of your purse for it. You smiled at the vendor and left with your new bag, wiggling your eyes at the strawberry table and starting your approach. 
“Hi,” an achingly familiar voice called out while you were steps away from the table of deliciously red strawberries. You could smell them from where you were at. You turned around still, even after easily identifying who the voice belonged to. “How are you?”
She was as beautiful as ever, the top of her head under a blue ball cap and her eyebrows perfectly done. Her eyes were hidden by shades, but you didn’t need to see them to know what she was thinking. Her arms were loose at her sides, but her fingers were moving strangely, and you noticed them immediately as her nervous tick. You took in a deep breath. 
“I’m good, how about you?” You asked Natasha back, and she gave you a pained smile.
“I’m alright.”
“Oh, sweet,” you said, and then gave her a parting smile before turning towards the strawberries.
“Wait,” she called out.
You stopped and turned your head, even though you wanted more than anything to forget that you ran into her. “Yes?”
There was a moment of silence between you two, and then she took a step forward. “Are you still upset?” She asked, voice lower in volume than usual. 
You almost scoffed at her. “I’m an adult, I can’t really be sad for long or I’ll forget to pay a bill or something.”
“Can we talk?” She started, and you held up a hand.
“Let’s not open up old wounds,” you said, already knowing exactly where she was going with all of her hesitance and fiddling with her thumbs.
“I need to apologize for what happened.”
You shrugged. “I forgive you. Actually, I forgave you weeks and weeks ago. It’s okay. We can move on from it.” We need to move on from it. 
You saw your old lover’s face light up in just the slightest, but just as fast as you saw it, it was gone. Her lack of wanting to express to you didn’t hurt anymore. “We?”
“We can move on,” you repeated, “just not together.” Her face dropped at what you said, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I fucked up.”
Yes, you did. “It’s in the past now.”
There was a pause, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You wondered when your heart started to beat on its own again and not for the woman standing so close yet so far away. You wondered when you started to do anything for just yourself, and you wondered when you had stopped doing that in the first place. Her voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Is it?”
You almost had to ask her to remind you what the conversation was about. “Oh. It is,” you said gently, but your voice was still stern. “All good things must come to an end, and what we had was good. It was great, and that must have meant that we were destined to end fast.”
She shook her head slightly. “If you- if you forgive me, it doesn’t have to be over.”
“It does.” You looked at your phone and sighed. “I have to leave.”
“Okay,” She said softly after a moment, and finally took a step back. It was a small one, like her body was trying to override her brain. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you, Nat.” You saw her wince, and if you hadn’t made peace with everything, you would have, too.
She took another step back and cleared her throat, just as Sam started making his way over. She nodded at you, and you gave her a small smile, almost encouraging. Just walk away, this is the last time you’ll have to do it. “Later,” She said, her voice a little hoarse as she turned on her heel and walked right past Sam.
“Later” meant never. And you didn’t know if you were supposed to feel nothing or everything about it.
§§§
The last time you saw Natasha Romanoff was a year later, when you were holding hands with a pretty woman from an art show that you went to. She stole your heart with her work, and she turned out just as beautiful on the inside as she was with a brush, and on the outside. Her name was Julie, and she was great. She was honest. 
You really liked Julie. She wasn’t Natasha, though, and it was both refreshing and saddening, because you knew that what you felt with Natasha was a one time thing. You two had one chance to keep the bond that was seemingly inseparable and stronger than steel together, and everyone was rooting for you. And then, it just fell apart.
You knew that Natasha was your first actual love, and the only person who was ever going to be able to love you emotionally like you needed to be. The two of you were, in your mind, made for each other. If soulmates existed, Natasha would have been yours, and you would have been hers. You knew that even five years after not being with her, and while the hole in your heart wasn’t hollow, you had a feeling that a little something was always going to be cold, like a cavity that was never filled. Someone saying her name or asking about her was like chewing ice on it.
But people moved on. Just like you did. And you had moved on from the beautiful yet icy mountains of Natasha and into a soft and whimsical meadow, and that meadow was Julie. 
You were holding hands with Julie, arms swinging as you were leaving the donut shop and talking about silly things that made the both of you grin when you caught a familiar flash of red. Out of instinct, you looked over your shoulder, and what you saw made you freeze.
Natasha Romanoff was with a girl with brown skin and black hair that was glinting in the sunlight, and she wasn’t focused on the way that you and Natasha locked eyes in that moment, the moment that seemed to last years. You didn’t think you were still moving, and it certainly didn’t feel like you were taking a step, but you were. You saw her blue-green eyes blink at you, and like you were still stuck on the same wavelength after all that time, you both raised a hand and gave a timid wave, small smiles gracing the both of your faces.
You saw the girl tug lightly on Natasha’s arm, and your grin stretched. Natasha looked over at the girl, and an immediate smile, one similar but not quite the same as she used to give to you, was on her face. You turned your head forward, a light smile still on your own face as you watched it all happen in a split second.
You both kept walking.
*****
ahahaha wow, that hurt really bad actually - never doing angst again i’m a fluffy type of gal
so i’ve never done a taglist before! so i hope i’m doing it right otherwise this’ll make me look incredibly dumb-
@messuhp @username23345 @fishlikestuff @thelastavenger-3000 @grievingfortheliving @madamevirgo @dontmindmejustreading @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @sourpatchspinster @fayhar @sarcasticallywitty15 @normanijauregui
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meltwonu · 3 years
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47. “Shut up.”
         “Why don’t you come over here and make me.”
39. “You taste like fucking candy.”
notes; AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES… lord i just love the idea of fucking an annoyed mingyu kdsjfhkds, cocky!mingyu, dirty talk, using panties as a gag, a little oral(fem receiving)/fingering, a little cum eating. Also forgive me bc im trying a different formatting of my drabbles and rly im just turning them into 1k-ish word fics?😭😭 I JUST CAN’T SHUT UP and these get so long so theyre not rly drabbles anymore sorry but also ive gotten so far without renaming the entire drabble game thing so… ye. Should i rename this drabble game? Or is it okay? Sorry that i cannot write short things…😭😩 should i include a word count?😅 I’m a mess and this is longer than 1k so the rest is under the cut!! Thank you for requesting!!! Enjoy!💕
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“Fuck, Mingyu, you left your shit in the washing machine again! Can you just get your shit together so I don’t have to wait on you all the time!?”
You prop a hand on your hip, watching as the male raises a brow from his place on the sofa when he turns his attention to you.
“Why don’t you go clean the bowl you left in the sink then, huh? I can say the same thing!”
Your lips press into a firm line; annoyance clear on your features. “My one fuckin’ bowl isn’t deterring you from using the sink but your shit in the washer is preventing me from washing my damn clothes!”
The tall male gets up from his spot on the sofa; annoyance obvious on his face as well. “You’re just so…”
“Just so what, Mingyu?”
He grits his teeth as he makes his way to leave and deal with the laundry. “Forget it.”
You watch as he moves his things to the dryer before shooting you a harsh stare and beelining straight for his room across the hallway.
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You finally manage to put your things in the washer once Mingyu retreats to his bedroom and it beeps once when it finally finishes, 45 minutes later.
Except now Mingyu’s clothes are just sitting in the dryer.
Letting out an exasperated sigh, you storm over to Mingyu’s bedroom, flinging the door open with the intent of giving him a piece of your mind again. 
“Mingyu, you fuckin’----”
“Fuck!”
Your eyes flit all across the tall male with his back against the headboard and  you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his large hand wrapped around his thick cock; throat going dry at the view. “Uh---”
“Don’t you fucking knock!?”
The words die on your tongue the longer you stand his doorway, and he, too, makes no effort to move from his place on his bed. “M--maybe if you fucking moved your shit from the dryer on t-time!” You retort; already losing the fight in your voice the longer your eyes fixate on the leaking tip of his cock.
Mingyu’s at a loss for words himself and he’s unsure of what to even do to make the situation less awkward.
But he will admit; your flustered expression might’ve made his cock twitch.
He clears his throat, “I don’t see you leaving. Finally owning up to the fact you wanna fuck me?” Mingyu grins; cockiness replacing the awkwardness he was feeling moments prior.
“Shut up.”
His grin falters momentarily before it’s back; his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Why don’t you come over here and make me.”
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Mingyu is meticulous. You have to admit.
He cleans while he cooks and makes sure his utensils and prepping station are absolutely spotless before the meal is even done cooking.
He’s apparently also just as meticulous with his tongue when he eats you out; fingers knuckle deep and curling into your g-spot just as he uses the tip of his tongue to tease your clit for the umpteeth time. “Ngh, fuck---fuck you, Mingyu!” You lock your hands into his permed hair, tugging on it slightly when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard.
“God, fuck y-you!” You grind against his tongue and fingers as you get closer and closer to the verge of an orgasm.
Mingyu pulls away slightly, lips glistening and wet. “You taste like fucking candy. It’s a shock considering your sour nature.” He mutters quietly, only loud enough for you to catch it as the heat blooms on your cheeks. “Just shut up and eat me out.” You mumble back.
Scoffing, he thrusts his fingers into you harshly one more time. “I think you’ve had enough actually.” He wiggles his fingers inside of your wet cunt as you moan out. “It’s time for you to give me what I want too.”
He pulls his fingers out, popping them into his own mouth as he licks your wetness off of them. Your grip on his hair loosens as he starts to sit up between your legs; his long hair falling into his dark eyes when he looks down at you. “Get up, we’re switching places.”
“Fine.”
It takes you a second to maneuver around the tall male on his small bed; huffing when he lays down against the pillows. “I ate you out and fingered your ‘lil pussy so now you can ride my cock and pull some of the weight around here.” He snides.
A smirk paints its way onto his features as you clench your jaw and sit down onto his thighs. “You’re lucky I needed to get laid or I wouldn’t be this willing to ride your fuckin’ dick.”
“Oh please, you probably dream about my cock. I see you eyeing me when I’m just walkin’ around in my sweats. I bet I’m who you fantasize about when you’re getting off with that vibrator of yours. Which, by the way, is fuckin’ loud. I hope you realize I can hear it when I pass by your bedroom. You should really---mmph!”
You quickly stuff your soaked panties between his lips before he can say anything more; gritting your teeth. “You really need to shut up. You’re cuter with your mouth closed or eating me out.”
Mingyu wasn’t… technically wrong. You just didn’t want to hear it right now.
You quickly shimmy your body up until you can reach down and wrap a hand around his cock and Mingyu places his hands on your waist to steady you as you slowly start to sink down onto him. “O-oh, fuck…”
A garbled moan spills from your lips as you feel him filling you up inch by inch; already wanting to start a quick pace as you chase your own orgasm.
Mingyu groans from around the panties between his lips and he tosses his head back as your tight, warm walls clench around his cock.
He thought about you sometimes too. Not that he’d admit it either.
It takes a few tense seconds and a few stuttered breaths before you’re completely seated on his cock; the tip of it already curving into your g-spot as you give yourself a moment to adjust to his size. “Y’know, if you w-weren’t such a cocky son of a b-bitch, I wouldn’t be so, ah, opposed to fucking y-you… G-god, I’d probably even, ngh, d-date you..”
You slowly start to swivel your hips as you mewl; Mingyu’s cock fit inside your cunt so perfectly. “But all y-you do is, hah, c-complain about m-my messes when you’re m-messy too…”
Mingyu’s blunt nails dig into the skin of your naked waist as you alternate between bouncing in his lap and swiveling your hips. And in return, his harsh breaths are all you can hear as you fuck yourself on his cock. He knows he could easily flip you onto your back and fuck you into his bedsheets until all you knew was his name, but he plays nice for now and lets you have your fun while you could.
“What were you t-thinkin’ about, huh? Before I walked in h-here. Were you thinkin’ about, ah, me? Do I get you s-so heated that, mmh, you g-get hard? Are you t-that easy?” You shoot him a cocky grin of your own as you clench around his cock. He narrows his eyes at you before he plants his feet firmly onto the bed and bucks his hips up into you; effectively jostling you and making you bounce harder in his lap as he starts to fuck you.
A sharp whine escapes past your lips as he starts a quick pace and you're quick to meet his movements as you slam down onto his cock with each of his thrusts. The two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm as you both unload all of the sexual tension that’d been brewing for the few months that you’d been roommates.
Your saccharine moans and whines mix in with Mingyu’s harsh breaths and muffled groans as you both feel yourselves inching closer and closer to the edge. He can already feel his cock twitching and he can already feel the way your walls tighten even more around his cock with each passing second.
You reach a hand between your body and his; fingertips on your swollen clit as you race towards your orgasm. “Fuck, I, ah, w-wanna cum…” You mumble.
Mingyu bites down onto the fabric in his mouth as he tosses his head back again, his forehead covered in a sheen of sweat as he starts to feel his abdomen tightening with his impending orgasm.
And he doesn’t warn you when he cums, but you can feel his cock twitching and his cum filling you up as his thrusts lose their rhythm. You let out a choked moan at the feeling and you rub quicker circles on your clit as you throw yourself over the edge and into your orgasm as well.
Mingyu lets out a muffled groan as he feels your walls fluttering around him and for a moment, he tells himself he could get used to fucking you.
“Oh, g-god, you’re, ah, fu--fucking cumming so---so much inside of m-me…” Whimpering, you slam down onto his cock as you both ride out your high and Mingyu’s eyes fixate on the way his cock slides out of your wet pussy covered in his cum and your wetness.
Mingyu moves a hand from your waist to pluck the soaked material out of his mouth; tossing it to the side as he gently massages his jaw.
“Look at you, still fucking yourself on my cock. Want more already, huh?” He watches as you reach down and scoop up some of the cum that settled onto his skin, lips parted slightly as he lets out a soft moan. You continue to swivel your hips atop his lap, waiting until your orgasm completely ebbs off before you come to a full stop. 
You pop your wet digits into your mouth, keeping eye contact with him as he commits to memory the way you suck on your fingers and swallow down the cum. 
He grits his teeth as he watches you repeat the action. “Such a good girl cleaning up your mess, huh? That’d be a first for you, wouldn’t it?” His eyes twinkle with an almost evil glint when you finally pop the clean digits from between your lips and move to straddle his thighs again; this time, globs of cum dripping from your pussy as his cock slides from inside of you.
Images of you in different positions flit through Mingyu’s mind as he smiles.
“Say, do you really want to know what I was thinking about before you walked in?”
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does any part of four feel more left out than the others, specifically green? cause i havent seen a lot of stuff centering on green, if any at all. most of the fics ive read have to do with the other parts and green is just kinda left behind. honestly i just want more green content and angst 😅 so yeah. hope this helps spring up more ideas 😊
[Decided to take this as a prompt since it's still technically Four Weeks of Four. Green angst sounds pretty good honestly. Take some self-reflection ^u^ Also this is unedited. Let me know if I need to tag anything differently.]
Warning(s): talk of self-blame and unhealthy habits, but it's pretty brief.
For once, it was quiet at home. Everyone was still asleep, but Green found that he couldn't sleep anymore. With a quiet sigh, he sat up in the large bed he shared with the other Colors, taking a moment to smile at the sight of them cuddled close together.
Red seemed to have grabbed Blue in his sleep, huddled into his chest in his spot between Vio and Blue. The former had wrapped his arms around the both of them, his lankier frame easily encompassing the both of them. Blue had grabbed Green's shirt in his sleep with one hand while the other was holding onto Vio. It was a comforting sight.
Carefully, he peeled Blue's hand off of his shirt, trying not to startle the other awake. As he slipped out of bed and onto the chilled hardwood floor, he took a moment to check around the crowded room. The other heroes were asleep as well, and for that he was grateful.
He took a moment to count heads, Wild cuddled up against Twilight, Sky holding Hyrule and Wind close, the latter of which had a hand on Hyrule's shirt, Legend was back-to-back with Hyrule with Time laying still on his back in between Legend and Warriors, the latter of which was pressed up against the wall.
Stepping carefully around the sleeping bodies, he made his way to the stairway. Avoiding the creaky steps, he entered the main room and headed for the kitchen. He could see the sky from the window and could see that it looked to be a cloudy day. Silently he hoped it wouldn't rain. Grabbing a kettle, he filled it with water and headed to the living room, stirring the fireplace to life and setting the water to boil above it.
The quiet was nice, refreshing even, especially with how loud it could get with so many heroes in one place. They had taken them splitting quite well, especially the Veteran who had seemed to already know about it. It was relieving and allowed them to split much more often. The very fact that they could have time to be away from each other for even a short while was perfect. A fact that Green was currently making the most of.
When the kettle whistled, he quietly cursed and hurriedly took it off the fire. He walked back into the kitchen and rummaged around in the cupboard until he found a suitable mug and his box of tea. Pulling out the small wooden box, smiling slightly at the chiseled and painted green air element symbol on the front, he grabbed a tea bag and dropped it into the empty cup. When the boiling water had been poured inside, he set the kettle on a hot pad to avoid burning the wooden counter (like he had many times before to Blue's frustration).
He made his way back to the living room, a small jar of honey in one hand and the steaming mug of tea in the other. Setting the mug on a coaster, he sat and waited for it to steep. His mind seemed to be just as loud today as it had been when the four were one.
He thought about the groups' goal, to fight the Shadow that had brought them all together. His mind drifted to a similar Shadow, how he had sacrificed himself for them on their last adventure. How they had tried to find a way to bring him back, only to find no leads. How Vio had taken that fact badly and shut down nearly completely, Blue had gotten angry with even the slightest mention of the missing Shade, Red had tried to stay cheerful despite how he would quietly cry alone when no one was watching.
He had ignored his own needs then, trying to make sure everyone was okay and taking care of themselves. It took time, and in fact, it was still a work in progress as every mention of the Shadow they were chasing had them all flinch and clench their fists. He had tried to keep the peace, tried to make sure that they'd all be okay, and now that he had the time to reflect on everything, he realized he was tired.
After their adventure, he was worried that he'd lose them all, that he wouldn't be good enough or strong enough to keep them all safe and alive. The addition of eight other heroes to worry about only made his already stretched worries stretch even further.
With a start, he remembered his tea and quickly took out the teabag. He frowned at the darker color of the tea, knowing he had over-steeped it. He sighed, taking the honey and pouring in a more generous amount than he normally would. He stirred it and then took a sip, the taste not as strong as he had feared it would've been. He chuckled slightly, self-deprecatingly as he realized that maybe he needed a longer break than he thought.
He sat back against the cushion of the chair, holding his warm mug of tea and staring at the fire burning away in the hearth. Each sip of his tea relaxed him further, though not as much as he hoped it would. The quiet sounds of the fire crackling away and the wind blowing against the house was comforting, yet he felt uneasy. He could feel the discomfort of not doing enough right now to help the others growing, making him fidget, but a small part of him, sounding similar to Vio, simply stated that everyone was still asleep and that there isn't anything to do currently.
It was the truth, the only thing he could do currently was cook breakfast, but he had a feeling Red would throw a fit if he wrecked yet another of his pans. The memory of the first time that happened made him chuckle, how Red's face turned the color of his namesake as he yelled and gestured with the mishappen pan. Green had been apologetic and slightly fearful, but Red had calmed considerably when he had offered to make him new cooking tools.
His mind then turned to other memories; Blue demanding a sparring session with him several days in a row, losing often enough that he vowed to knock Green on his ass one day. Vio pulling him aside one day to get him to go on a trip to a far-off town just so he could learn about the culture and people there.
And then newer memories with the group; Sky sitting next to him and asking questions about his era, eyes sparkling with wonder at each new story of their life. Time helping them with taking down bigger opponents, offering pointers that sounded as though from experience. Twilight letting him hitch a ride on his back after he had embarrassed himself by stumbling and twisting his ankle in front of the other Colors. Warriors going over strategies with him late into the night after they had encountered several unfamiliar enemies. Legend helping them with weapon maintenance and trading stories of awful customers as they worked. Wind and Wild taking them on a little adventure to explore a new area no one had seen before. Hyrule going on an even smaller adventure with them to a Minish Village for a celebration.
Green couldn't help but smile more genuinely at each thought, each memory of simply hanging out and having fun or even doing something that he enjoyed. He finished off the mug of tea, now fully relaxed as his mind had finally drifted away from the more stressful topics. As he put the mug into the sink and put the honey away, he found that maybe it would be a good idea to stop keeping such thoughts of his worries bottled up. He would tell one of the others, starting with the other Colors.
'But for now,' he thought, finishing cleaning up after himself with a small smile and glancing out the window to the sun peeking through the clouds, 'I think I'll enjoy the quiet and distance from everyone and take a break.'
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harryhandstan · 4 years
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gotta get better
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This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)
Thankful to @bfharry​ and @bopbopstyles​ for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!
I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)
// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha 
as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :) 
final word count: 7.1k
//
"Y'nervous, angel?"
"Hmm?"
"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."
Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.
"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."
You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.
"How much longer before they take me back?"
"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"
Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.
"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."
Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.
When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.
You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."
"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."
Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.
You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.
It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.
//
The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.
Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.
"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.
"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.
"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."
"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"
Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?
Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.
"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"
"No, ma'am."
Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.
"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."
"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.
"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"
Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.
But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.
"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.
The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.
"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"
"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.
"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"
"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.
"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."
The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."
"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.
"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."
He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.
You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.
He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.
"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"
You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."
"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"
"But you won't be there with me, not really."
"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"
You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.
"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"
"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."
"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"
"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."
"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."
"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.
"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.
He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.
"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.  
"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."
His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.
"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."
He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.
Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.
"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."
"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."
Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."
Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."
//
His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.
"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.
Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.
"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"
"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.
"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"
You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.
"How long was I out?"
"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."
"How much longer?"
"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."
"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."
He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.
"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."
"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"
"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."
"You promised or she demanded?"
"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."
"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.
"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.
"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."
"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.
"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."
"Maybe for the holidays?"
"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."
"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."
You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.
I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol
The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.
"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."
"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.
She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."
"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.
"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."
"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."
"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"
You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"
He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.
"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."
"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"
You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."
"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.
"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."
"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."
You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.
"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."
He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."
"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."
This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.
"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.
"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"
//
You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.
He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.
"Harry!"
"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.
"When??"
"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."
He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"
"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."
His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.
Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.
You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.
"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."
When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.
You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.
Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.
"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"
"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."
"I always loved it. Still do."
Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.
You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.
"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.
"What time is it?"
"Almost 3..why?"
"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.
"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"
"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"
"You don't wanna pick the movie?"
You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"
You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.
In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.
Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.
"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.
"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."
You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.
"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.
You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"
"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.
He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.
"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."
His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.
"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.
"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."
"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"
"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"
"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.
"Guess we're even then."
"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.
You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.
He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"
"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."
He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"
"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."
He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"
"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"
"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."
"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."
"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."
You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.
"Comfy? Need anything else?"
"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."
"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"
You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."
"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"
"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."
"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."
"I love you more, H."
He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."
The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"
"Sure, princess."
He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.
Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.
//
He wakes you later in the evening.
"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."
"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.
"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."
"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.
"How do you feel?"
"A little sore. More sober, for sure."
Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.
"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.
You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.
"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."
"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"
You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"
"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."
"It's perfect."
You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.
After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.
But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.
Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."
"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."
"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."
He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.
"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them,  "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"
Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.
"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.
You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."
"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.
"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.
"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."
You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.
Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.
Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.
"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."
"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."
"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."
"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."
"I won't. Promise."
"Yeah? Me either."
A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.
"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"
"Let me take care of you?"
//
And that's exactly what he does.
Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.
But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.
So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.
He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.
A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.
You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.
//
2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.
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pepperpills · 3 years
Text
The Harvest - RE8 Fanfic
The Harvest
A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana
Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader
Notes: heey guys, The Harvest is coming closer to its end, i hope you enjoy this chapter and new things might be coming ahead, thank you all for reading it >.<
Warning: NSFW content
Part I - Destiny (1) Part I - Destiny (2) Part II - The Lord Part III - The Hunt
Part IV – Soft Torture
In the next days, you finished the new wing and brough him to see it. He was grateful, he took a while analysing your sketches, strumming the shelves covered with books and the metallic tool boxes. When he was done, he impulsively took your head in his hands and kissed you in the forehead. You blushed, but by that time he already crossed the door and was calling you to help.
Then, you spent hours helping him move his stuff to that wing, especially the non-metallic ones, which he had no power over. Your hands touched while doing it and every time it happened, an electric discharged flowed through you – and him.
After you were done, you left him to explore his new set up as excited as he was with it. You still had your cleaning stuff when coming back to the main area and there was time, plenty of free time. Thus, you stopped on level B3 to take care of a dusty stroller that was pissing you off with its dirt.
You were minding your own business, singing your favourite childhood song while wiping the dust off the power box when you heard a drill. You instantly froze, imagining what caused it.
The area was poorly lite, but you saw that red brightness in the pitch dark, you wouldn’t confound it as it was part of the nightmares you had at your first days at the factory. It was, indeed, a lost Soldat.
You held a scream, your hand quickly covered your open mouth, but it was too late, it paid attention to you, way before you saw it, then it started walking towards your direction with that drill making a death sound.
The world around you didn’t make sense. You looked for exits, but it was about to sprint and you were in a corner, unable to run anywhere. A single tear rolled down your face and you closed your eyes not willing to see it.
“NO.” Heisenberg screamed, showing up at the right moment. “STOP!” He demanded, but the thing was now coming to him. “Stupid shit.” He cursed, violently throwing his cigar on the ground, putting it out with his boot.
With that said, the reactor on the Soldat’s chest exploded, casting hundreds of small parts all over the place, one hit you in the cheek. No one moved, it simply disintegrated and the creature fell to its knees, deactivated, exploding right away, sending more trash to the air.
Heisenberg walked rapidly to you and held your shoulders. When he noticed your cheek, he cleaned it and licked your blood out of his finger. You were way too shaken by the Soldat, but his grip slowly brought you to the real world.
“You okay?” He whispered, his expression lines showing how worried he was.
He got so scared of losing you for that malfunctioning son of a bitch that his heart sunk when he saw you. It was too late for him to continue pretending he didn’t care that much for you.
“Yeah, it didn’t get me at all. Thank you.” You were utterly grateful he tamed that thing, otherwise… Otherwise you probably would be one of the bodies in the stretchers.
Heisenberg then buried his face in your neck, sighing. He sounded relieved.
“Thought I was gonna lose you there, buttercup.” He told your neck, his voice stuffy.
“I thought so too.” You confessed, also feeling relieved. “Do you care?” You had to ask, simply had to know if he cared even though he just saved you.
“Of course I do.” He answered immediately, but not rushing.
Knowing that was reassuring. You felt safe. You felt home. He felt scared for the possibility of your death and couldn’t stop holding you. You thought he was going to bite you like a zombie would, instead, he rubbed his lips on your skin.
You moaned with the touch. It was involuntary, but you felt that you made a mistake. First you tried to be his friend when both of you felt alone, then you would give anything for him to order you to take off your clothes like in that first day, but wouldn’t dare say that, you were getting too mushy.
“S-sorry…” You started apologizing, he let your neck go, but then his face was millimetres from yours.
“Don’t be sorry.” Karl firmly took your waist and put you up on the now clean stroller, your butt sitting on a wood box.
He had to have you. There was this urgent feeling on his stomach he couldn’t resist, it was being silenced for too long, since you arrived. That hunger took control of him and he griped your hair.
He is too strong, but you didn’t want to resist, at that moment, you were about to do whatever he desired, you had simply given up to it as you yourself were thirst for his touch.
The adrenaline was still running crazily through you, like you had been shocked, you thought it was even stronger than before, growing, driving you to hallucinate as you saw coloured lights dancing in your vision. Coloured, festive lights.
“Fuck, buttercup, you have a way to get to me.” He cursed, kissing you chin, making you moan again. “Oh, you are so hopeless like this.” Heisenberg laughed; his chuckles made your entire body resonate.
“Please, let me have you, Karl.” You found yourself begging, you would be on your knees if he wasn’t so close, taming you.
He stepped back, a tiny step so he could look at you. He was smiling, his eyes seemed to have fallen upon a prey, one he would treat with good manners. His hand reached your neck, pressing it, not too hard, but not softly, so you could feel his scars and you moaned to that.
He spread your legs with his knee, not gentle, not brutal, but demanding. You let him do it, feeling the blood down there. You felt a chilled object between your thighs, it touched your clit over your tight pants. It started rubbing as Heisenberg kissed every centimetre of your face and his hands wandered around your body, owing it.
You were soaked, your panties were completely wet at that point, maybe even more than the rain made before, and that metal thing kept rubbing your bud driving you insane. You moaned loudly, moaned like an animal and he joined you with husky groans.
You closed your legs around his waist and forced him to come closer. He cried out in pleasure, even though fully clothed. You felt him hard, so damn hard you thought you couldn’t take it.
His pace was getting faster controlling the metal stimulating you, it was feeling too intense, all your feelings mixing up with his sudden touch, the adrenaline running through out your body, his beard tingling your neck as he groaned, making your eyes roll in pleasure. You came the first time like that, your water wetting him.
You took his face in your hands and glued your lips to one another. The kiss was intense, you completely forgot to breath as his tongue met yours, playing rough games in your mouth. You had to scratch his skin under his clothes, to this, he arched his back, a warm sensation flooding his body as it felt held after so long, so glad to finally take you, so hungry to devour you, he couldn’t help but to feel he was close, not done with these games, but close to his first time in a while anyway. That was the time for him to cum. He held you tightly, burring his face on your shoulder, moaning like crazy and came in his pants. You came again, with him.
“God damn it.” That was all he could say, panting.
“For fuck’s sake.” You joined him, leaning your back on the stroller to rest.
The dancing lights were still there, lullabying you now that you both orgasmed. You were calm, calmer than you had never been, completely distant from the Soldat’s treat, the Village, anything. Nothing could reach you at the factory, nothing besides his scarred hands.
You thought it was over, but you still felt drunk with pleasure, willing to taste more of it, more of him. Karl had an idea. One that you would like. He took you in his arms, so easily you felt little while pressing your face to his collarbone, the electricity in your body giving you delightful goosebumps. You hugged his neck and your legs hugged his waist. He started walking.
At first, you didn’t know where he was taking you, then you recognized the path among all those look alike corridors. You two were heading to the soft torture room. It didn’t make you anxious, though. You were curious.
He actually walked there, not surfing any metal plaque. It didn’t take long to get to your destination. He made the door open with his powers, never letting you go even for a second like you were too precious to trust the floor to support you.
That room was the most organized room of the factory. You could see he started using that as a storeroom due to several cardboard boxes leaning against the walls. The gears and toys were as new. You doubted someone had ever used them.
The room was painted black, decorated with real swords, axes and chains, the last ones maybe could be of use. There was a whip rack with different whips that made you excited, willing to test them all, also, some toys and instruments were suspended on a metal board close to a Berkley horse. Heisenberg didn’t guide you to any of those, though.
“Do you think you can take it, kitten?” He whispered affably in your ear.
“I want to take anything.” You told him, sanguinely.
He chuckled and lead you to another piece of furniture. That one you had seen on history books. It was the wrist stocks. Usually, it would be made of wood, but his were metallic and would move as he desired, so you could alternate positions.
Karl let you go, gently, you stepped barefoot on the ground having lost your shoes at the stroller and he made you sit on a chair next to the stocks. You kissed for what seemed to be eternity, every single one of your senses being stimulated at once. He gruffly took his overcoat off, without untouching your lips and started massaging your nipples. You cried out in pleasure, feeling it drain on your thighs.
You drove him crazy. He was doing his best to be at least moderate to you, but you weren’t helping at all. Your groans made him be harsh, it was your doing, he kept thinking. He ripped your shirt off effortlessly, giving you a shock. Your boobs came out swinging, making him howl and burry his face on them. He felt welcomed by your warmth, consoled by your soft skin. He didn’t want to rise his nose from them, but he did in order to rend your pants.
It was a real relief to be finally free from your clothes. In that manner, you took his shirt off, laying your hand on his chest for a silent while. It was entrancing to be able to touch him like that, to feel his heavy breathing, strolling your fingers on his belly. But when you reached his pants and started unbuttoning it, he snorted and pushed you back.
“Not now, sugar.” He denied, smiling at your disconsolate face. “First things first.” Heisenberg added as he lifted you, placing you lastly at the stocks.
You saw how hard he was under those pants. His cock was begging to be tamed, to be treated, to be tasted. You could drool if your kept thinking these things, but you couldn’t help, it was centimetres from your face now and was certainly calling you. You inclined a little, he didn’t perceive, and gave a long, naughty lick on his cock, tasting the humidity there, trying the flavour of his cum. It tasted like “I want more”.
He groaned loudly, hopelessly. Heisenberg got a little annoyed by your disobedience and decided he could be a bit harder on you.
“Bad kitten.” He called you.
Your wrists were now retained, you were sitting completely naked on a massage bed and he still had his pants on which meant a little more play. Out of nowhere, nipple clamps flew to you and bite your nipples. You screamed in pleasure. It hurt a little, pressing your delicate skin.
Heisenberg was enjoying himself, maliciously smiling. At that sight, he had to touch himself. His hand reached his cock over the fabric and cuddled it for some time as he tightened the grip on your nipples.
After a while like this, he decided it was about time and his pants fell off, revealing a big, pulsating, needy rod on that made you moan on its homage.
“Now, kitten, show me you can take it all.” He said, approaching you, taking advantage of your opened mouth.
You finally had it, an explosion of flavours and sensation took command of you. His cum was sweet, now your favourite candy, his cock was almost too much for your mouth, but you proudly took it all on you salivating tongue, leading it deep down your throat, making a mess of saliva. A mess he loved. Heisenberg was simply howling in pleasure, his husky voice dominated by voluptuousness, he was roaring over the machinery noises.
If you kept going longer, he was going to cum on your precious mouth, would fill it with his god’s milk. But he wasn’t done with you. Oh no. He took his cock out of your mouth and you felt the bed leaning backwards.
“Lay.” Heisenberg ordered as he climbed your body, positioned between your legs.
You laid. He roughly rubbed his smouldering boner on your clit. You both groaned intensely. He played you a little more, then he started entering. Your pussy wasn’t used to it, to big things coming in and out of it like that, but it sure loved the sensation.
His thighs were pressed to yours, rubbing his hair body on your skin as he moved forward into you. You thought you were dead, nothing that good could be possible. But it was, you had him inside your pussy, reaching so deep as the bed inclination helped to get as far as he could.
At first, he tried to go steady, not willing to hurt you more, but as you moaned, he couldn’t help but burying his cock on you. You made it feel welcomed, hot and squeezed by your walls.
Heisenberg was losing it. You were losing it. You both moved in synchrony, the nipple clamps awakening every pleasure sensor on your body, feeling him entirely.
He invested inside you for what felt like hours of pure pleasure. You two sang the lust song together. Karl knew he couldn’t hold on longer.
“Now, kitten, you gonna have it.” He whispered between his teeth, griping your hair.
You hugged his waist with your legs, forcing him to stay deep down. He groaned, thunders in your vision. He was coming hot, plentiful, absolutely satisfied. Heisenberg came inside you and when he found the courage to step out and you let go your legs, cum drained from your pussy.
“Karl…” You could only mumble, panting.
“Kitten.” He answered, releasing your wrists and laying by your side.
He pushed you to his chest where you gladly laid your sleepy head. He cuddled your hair as your draw circles on his belly.
“It was the best thing I ever felt.” You said, at last.
“You had me there, kitten.” Heisenberg confessed, his heart racing. “You fucked me good.” He added, smiling. You smiled too.
Both of you were tired, sleepy. His cuddles made your eyes shut and your hug embraced him. You fell asleep in the soft torture room, on the massage bed. Naked and together, at last.
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whump-town · 3 years
Text
Been Having A Hard Time Adjusting
Summary: Alternative to the peaceful homecoming of Emily Prentiss - Aaron Hotchner never truly comes home with her.
Warnings: medical trauma, amputation, scarring, blindness, mental health, hallucinations, sexual assault, self harm, and just sad stuff
Part One, Part Two
They find the sweet spot where nothing exists past the tip of his nose. Where his mind slips and he dissociates, gets caught in the old wall just a few feet away. In the spackled off-white paint. His eyes unfocused and unmoving. A nestled warmth where he finds himself outside his mind and body and bathed in entire numbness. Compliant to their overwhelmingly constant touches and questions. Without the heavy thrum of sedatives in his veins, he’ll kill himself. Tears stitches back open with his searching fingers to find where to dig and rip into the skin to feel the warmth of his blood.
“Is there someone we can call?” he’s given up. His fight depleted to leave him bareboned and dying. “You didn’t list anyone in your files but if you give us a name…” He hadn’t listed anyone for a reason. He’d wanted his death to be as nonexistent, as unpleasant as his life. So that the others might be given the chance to move on. So that his son will not think of him. He’ll slip through the cracks and they’ll just forget. It could go unnoticed. Now, he’ll be left to go slowly. They can place feeding tubes and restrain his mobile limbs but that will not breathe life back into him. He’s not active by any means but he’s reserved and he’s lost. He doesn't want to stay. He’s done.
He’s been fighting his whole life but he’s never been good at knowing when to give up.
There had been life in him, initially. In the back of his mind, he’d hoped for this eventual returning to his life. His old life. It’s a complicated, convoluted thought that he carries for a week. His presence of mind comes back slowly and the drugs can not hide what he knows intuitively. He finds the wounds on his face, holds his fingers near his right eye and the sight is… The doctors tell him it was shrapnel and that he’s lucky he has some sight in it at all and that there is no perceived brain damage. He looks at himself in the mirror. Looks at this man that he can not recognize.
There is a mass of bruises and wounds on his face. His eye isn’t easy to notice the pupil blown wide and a well-meaning doctor tells him that the scarring he’s typically used to seeing will happen over time. Just as many of the wounds on his face, they just need time to scar.
They sit with him, run their fingers along the wounds as they guess at which ones will heal and which ones he’ll never get rid of. “This one looks like lightning,” a nurse tells him like he’s supposed to appreciate finally understanding what Harry Potter looked like. Does she think Jack will appreciate that? That he’ll look at his father’s face and see a hero and not a horrible mess of these warped scars?
It’s sick, he knows. He’d never think these things about anyone else. But he looks in the mirror and he sees someone that he hates.
And it all goes to hell when Dave shows up.
It’s… He doesn’t know what day it is anymore but he’s turned away from the door of the room. Propped up on pillows and looking out the small window in his room. The physical therapist had come in to move him, forced him to practice moving from the bed to the wheelchair, and then from the wheelchair to the recliner, a nurse had kindly pushed in. He’s left alone because he’s content like this, turned like a flower to the sun. Eyes closed and nearly forgiving, compliant.
“Hotch...”
He jerks at the sudden intrusion. Panicking at the sight of the man before him. It’s a little too much. “D--Dave?” he hasn't spoken in so long that his voice grates and cracks. Tears sting his eyes and he chokes, crying as Dave steps towards him. Sobbing as Dave bends down and shakes his head, his own eyes filling with tears. “You came,” he whispers, leaning into the palm that Dave presses to his cheek. Warm and rough and here and he hadn’t realized how lonely he was. How tired of his own mind…
Dave looks like he always does, carefully suspended between two ages. His hair greying near the temples but his eyes betraying him and his age. He’s tanned, dressed softly in a way that makes Hotch feel like a young cadet all over again. As if he’s marching into the bullpen to meet his hero. But here he is. Dave is right here.
“You’re too thin,” Dave whispers, stroking his cheekbone. “Being a pain in their ass, huh?” He smiles, fondly and softly and Hotch feels its warmth in his chest, in his face. He nods and smiles even harder when Dave brings their heads together. Rustling Hotch’s hair playfully. “It’s good to see you, Hotch.”
He nods, unable to trust his voice. He closes his eyes, leans entirely into the touch.
“Aaron?”
He hums.
“I brought you lunch, sweetheart.”
Eyebrows furrowing at the sudden change, he opens his eyes. The room is empty. He’s still in the recliner. He looks for Dave, going frantic as he realizes there is no proof of Dave ever having been here. But he must have just fallen asleep. “I’m not hungry,” he whispers and lays limply, bites down against his tears as they hook up to the supplements they pump into him. The only way they can think to keep him alive for just a little longer.
Dave keeps coming.
He shows up as Hotch’s falling asleep, whispers through the exhaustion about the next morning. Smiles and assures Hotch he’ll be here when he wakes up. He never is. Emily comes. She brushes her fingers through his hair and he asks her to tell him one more time the names of the countries that she visited as a child. The ones she loved best. He needs her to do the accents to squeeze his hand and throw her head back with laughter but she squints her eyes. She shakes her head and never answers. Never tells him.
“Who are you talking to?”
Hotch blinks, confused but not nearly enough. Some part of him knows what this is but he needs them so desperately that it keeps him from falling apart. He’ll lean into this delusion because it is all he has. “No one,” he whispers but they know. The nurses, the doctors, the therapist. They've noticed.
He doesn’t know why (he knows exactly why).
There are no thoughts leading up to it (it’s everything, it’s all too much).
No ideations (he just wants to sleep…).
It hurts. He rips the IV from his hand with his teeth, grunting at the pain as the needle comes free. He means to run away but he looks down at his leg - to where his leg should be - and he sees red. He feels red. Digs his fingers into the gauze, crying out when he finds the stitches. The hole of mangled flesh and the warmth of his blood coating his fingers. He doesn’t get very far. Isn’t capable of enough damage - not to him, at least. He wants to do worse. To hit and scream and throw himself somewhere dark and cold to die.
He passes out in a puddle of his own blood. Wakes enough when the nurses come in, dragging in crash carts behind them. The head of the bed falling and his hands being moved away. He’s floating. Not really there. He feels the odd little dance of his heart in his chest like it’s stomping quickly to a rhythm not quite right.
He wakes… alive, unfortunately. They restrain him - his two mobile limbs. His left arm still pinned with crap he doesn’t care enough to look at. It’s not as humiliating as it would have been just a year ago. He’s too drugged, too laden to care about the strap they have to put over his thighs to keep him from moving the stump of his right leg. His right hand is held to the bed by the wrist. He looks at it, occasionally, tests the flection of the fingers, and sleeps.
He’s restrained for three weeks but he doesn’t try anything. Doesn’t move or speak. Just looks at the wall. For three weeks they watch him - it’s suicide watch but unbothered. He’s more of a pacifist, anyhow, maybe it would be helpful to know that’s a return of character for him - to just wither away instead. For a week they have this grey area where he’s never left alone during the day and the restraints go back on during the night. They turn on the TV and try to get him to eat but he can’t or maybe he just won’t. He ignores them.
Dave doesn’t come back.
He’s just too tired to care anymore.
He’s there for a month and makes no progress.
“Agent Hotchner.” His physical therapist lets himself into the room. There’s no use in asking to come in, he won’t answer. “I was thinking we work on transfers today,” the other man informs him. He pushes the wheelchair into the room. There’s no point in working with prosthetics, he fluctuates in weight too dangerously to keep them to size. Besides, he is too weak. Too weathered and caved to hold himself up. His left leg is cramped in that bed. He isn’t’ strong enough.
Hotch doesn’t do what they ask but he goes numbly into their directions. Spurring to life like a machine before sputtering back out. He’ll sit up but his movement is mechanical.
He goes elsewhere because they can’t come here.
To Derek. Falling asleep after long cases in the backseat of whatever beat-up car Gideon rented, their shoulders rocking back and forth. Waking for just a moment either leaning, if not held, in Morgan's lap or to find the other man sleeping on him. The unspoken nature of the two of them. Laughing in the bullpen and the time that he carried Morgan across a field because they fell down from some rafters of a barn that Gideon warned them about. They made it to the driveway and laid atop one another called Gideon to come get them. He remembers cracking his eyes open when Gideon had stood over him, shaking his head. “The two of you are nothing but trouble.”
It distracts him from the pain and the way that he can still feel his right leg. They tell him it’s phantom pain but he feels it. He wakes in the middle of the night certain he can wrap his fingers around where an ankle or a calf would be. Is certain his toes hit the end of the bed. He moves to transfer from the bed to the wheelchair and he still tries to put either on a leg that isn’t there.
He’s stationary and that’s how they find him.
Penelope finds him on Tuesday and it feels far too much like the morning she spent frantically calling hospitals to find him. His name isn’t given - not public because he’s American and he’s in a veterans hospital because the federal government won’t fork over the money it’s going to take to airlift him home. Besides, he’s got no family listed. No one to call and raise hell to get him home. No one to care. It’s hard to say they did until just a week ago… Hotch was always good at hiding in the emotional sense but he’s never been good at hiding himself. It made his childhood miserable for reasons with much higher stakes than just children’s hide and go seek.
Dave goes because the plane ticket is nothing and his absence will be fine. Emily tries to come but he tells her to stay, makes her stay. Hotchs’ done all this for a reason and he fears the state he’s going to find him in. Never mind, Emily’s still dead to Hotch - still someone who is dying and needs protection. It’s too much.
Dave drives an hour to Washington D.C. and takes a one stop flight straight to Pakistan. It’s nearly eighteen hours and with too little sleep he arrives at the hospital at 3 p.m.
David had taken to Hotch effortlessly. He’s just that sort of person-- the sort that draws you in with their mystery, with the kindness they couldn’t be bothered to pretend it’s so challengingly genuine. That’s just how Hotch’s always been. Honest but somehow so intuitive, knew things you could never remember telling him but right still. Always says the right things without ever telling you a thing. Until you’re a decade into a friendship with him and you can’t remember if he’s from the east coast or if he’s from the south or maybe if he’s ever had a pet or even what his favorite color is. Not because you didn’t pay attention but because he’s careful. Never tells more than necessary and he’s got that perfected.
And it’s how Dave knows something isn’t right.
Because Hotch could be dying and he’d never bother you. He’d never put you off by asking for a thing.
“At the two week mark he got an infection, his right leg was severely damaged in the accident. The wound and the leg started to necrotize. His organs started to shut down. Sepsis set in--”
Dave’s eyes snap to the doctor’s, sepsis. He looks back to the man in question. Hotch had this way about him, the way he moved and breathed and lived like those old stop motion pictures. Every moment so carefully constructed to create this flowing motion, entirely soundless. Dave has always thought he looked like the grasshopper from James and the Giant Peach with his too long limbs. Thin and pliable. Now, he rests heavily. That grace and flow stolen from him.
“Agent Rossi?” Dave tears his eyes away from Hotch, forces himself to concentrate once again on the doctor. “He’s… He’s been experiencing some rather unpleasant signs of post-traumatic stress. He won’t speak to the therapists on staff--” The doctor looks hopelessly to the man so oblivious to them. “We had to perform a unilateral bk-- we-- I amputated his right leg just below the knee.” By that time, Hotch had lost his abilities to make these decisions himself. Mind ravished by fevers, he was hallucinating. Seeing people that weren’t there.
Dave feels a knot form in his throat as his eyes wander. Slowly over those thin shoulders, down the curve of his back and the bones betray, the bones that protrude through his thin t-shirt. Down to… to see where one foot sits in the rest and the other stops. Where they’ve tied the access material of his sweatpants off.
“He has a prosthetic,” the doctor sighs. “We’ve had to resize it twice. We can’t-- We can’t do it again.” The doctor looks so impossibly exhausted. “They have to be... the prosthetics are advanced but fluctuations in weight ten pounds, even, that throws them off. He can’t keep weight on him and so we size them and then he loses more weight and he’s not getting stronger.” And it’s pointless. He won’t walk on the damn things. Refuses aids and he could walk, by now he could likely run and leap and move but he refuses much else aside that damned wheelchair. “He’s damaged the nerves, the bone, that I don’t know if he’ll be able to use a prosthetic.”
Dave doesn’t need any of that explained to him.
He understands it all too well.
Dave shakes his head. Clearing his throat rouses through his trousers, pulls out his wallet, “if money is the issue--” He hands the man the cards Dave thinks he might need. “Size them,” he asks. “Size them one more time and let me take him home.”
The doctor shakes his head, “Agent, maybe… maybe I’ve betrayed your confidence here.” He sighs, “sir, he’s not well. He doesn’t speak. Not to a soul except in his sleep and he screams. In-- In agony, in fear. He wakes and he has no memory of this happening. Denies our therapy. He doesn’t eat. He sustains on intravenous fluids and a feeding tube which he once fought but now doesn’t even… He’s prone to chronic infections.” The doctor frowns sympathetically to Dave and he is truly upset with this prognosis. Of his patients' negligence to himself and it might be good to finally have someone here for the man but he can not be released. Not without imminent danger. It couldn’t even be recommended he make the trip to another hospital.
“Do what you can?” Dave pleads.
And the doctor wants to break down, to confirm that they have. Everything they can think of. From tough love to entirely too understanding. Everything they have ever been trained to do. He isn’t responding. But Dave isn’t hearing it.
Dave crouches down in front of Hotch, placing himself directly in his line of sight. “Hotch?” He reaches, slowly, up towards him because Dave knows to expect a flinch. No matter how many miles Hotch puts between himself and his childhood, it still comes back in the little moments like these. But Dave’s fingers ghost across cold, pale flesh and there is nothing. No flinch or recoil or even an in-take of startled breath. Only empty eyes.
He’s still so foolishly hopeful. There has to be something, an ember to send to life. He’s just in need of a little poking, the right words and the right commands and he’ll come back. “Hotch,” Dave calls once more. He smiles, cupping Hotch’s cold cheek in the palm of his hand. “Aaron,” he amends because, of course, Hotch won’t answer to his first name. It’s impersonal. Everyone knows it. Hotch is sacred. It’s something entirely their own.
Dave had assumed the doctor was a fool. What could this stranger know about his Aaron? But… this isn’t even his Hotch. This isn’t Hotch at all.
David Rossi has no idea who this man is but he’s not Hotch.
The physical therapist makes his way over, wheelchair pushed out in front of him as he edges closer. Looking between Dave and Hotch, trying to make sure the doctor’s okay for him to come is genuinely welcomed. Dave stands up out of the way, taking a short step back as he watches, numbly, the way the therapist talks to Hotch. The gentle way he kneels down and makes sure that Hotch’s eyes find him before he speaks again. “How are you doing, big guy? Up for the trip back?” he gets no answer, which Dave is growing to find less and less surprising.
“Alright,” the therapist answers as if Hotch has said something, like he’s even acknowledged the other man’s presence. “I think that pretty nurse--” the therapist locks the wheelchair and sets it up for ease transfer. “You remember?” the therapist asks all without breaking stride, like he’s having an active conversation with Hotch. “Well, I”m sure you remember, don’t you? You know, the pretty nurse Amy? Tall? Brunette? Damn, man, I swear I’m in love.” The therapist taps Hotch’s right knee and it spurs Hotch to life. He sits up and the therapist keeps talking as Hotch makes slow, lazy movements to push himself to the edge of the chair. “She asked me out for drinks tonight.” The therapist puts his arms under Hotch's, ready to step in and guide if Hotch can't do it himself. “I’m getting drinks with the hot nurse, isn’t that great?”
Dave watches silently.
Hotch maneuvers himself easily enough, his left hand is still covered in bandages, but he places his weight on one arm and one leg. The movement isn’t entirely sophisticated but it gets him where he needs to be - seated in the wheelchair without help from either of them men standing close.
The physical therapist kicks the breaks down. His smile startles Dave, mostly because of its brightness despite the dreary mood of everything else around them. The physical therapist grins at both of them - his spit and shine nearly a bit too much. “So,” the therapist hums. “Do I need to worry about this guy taking my spot as your best friend? I mean, we’re friends, right, but do we have to compete for the throne of best friend?”
Hotch’s head raises, glancing up at the therapist and Dave feels himself choke, as if punched at the look in his eyes. They stop, the therapist shooting Dave a glance before he kneels down. He places a hand on Hotch’s leg, the two of them eye-level with one another. The therapist clears his throat, solemnly offering, “he’s real, Aaron.” He glances up at Dave, motioning him closer.
Dave takes a stiff step closer - biting down to prevent himself from huffing an agitated breath at the younger man when he’s only beckoned closer. Until he’s kneeling down beside Hotch as well, his chest tight at the way Hotch’s eyes dart to him but seek comfort in the therapist.
“Who is this, Aaron?”
Hotch’s eyes dart to Dave, his dry lips parting but falling closed without an answer. He looks away, flushing with embarrassment at his inadequacy. Dave feels his throat tighten like a vice, begging someone to explain what’s happening here. He’d been told Hotch didn’t have any brain damage and that while nightmares and hallucinations had plagued his waking state, he was fine. Those were symptoms of PTSD and the hallucinations had abated and likely, the nightmares would too once his physical body is able to start to heal.
“You know,” the therapist prods. “Introduce me, Hotch.”
Dave moves, shifting as if to speak to beat Hotch to the chase and the therapist cuts him a look. He doesn’t say a word.
“Aaron,” the physical therapist takes his unharmed hand, trying to solidify Hotch’s attention. “Please? He’s real. Just like you and I, okay? You can tell me.”
Hotch turns his attention to his knees and Dave feels his conviction, feels the way Hotch has solidified his final opinion - Dave isn’t here. He looks at his lap, pulling his hand back to pick at his nails. “I don’t know,” he mumbles. He can’t bring himself to say it. Doesn't want to look at Dave and have him disappear again. Doesn’t want to feel his heart get broken again when Dave disappears.
Dave is stopped, he means to move forward to maybe grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. Hotch does know. Of course he knows. Dave has known him since he was a twenty-something punk-ass kid with untailored suits and a shitty Windsor knot. He’s his best friend…
“Okay,” the therapist caves and shoots Dave a look that conveys all that it needs to: he’s to fall back. “That’s okay,” the therapist assures him. It’s pointless, Hotch has worked himself to the point of tears over what Dave had thought was a simple question and Dave feels like he’s been kicked in the head.
They go on without another word. None of them speaking. Dave watches Hotch cry, a few soft tears that trail down his face while he glares down at his lap. He wants to say something. To reassure Hotch or to remind him. Hell, anything is better than this silence that they’ve fallen into.
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aclosetfan · 3 years
Note
8
And Np
(ask game)
haha dude you’re like my new best friend now lmao thanks so much for being interested enough to ask about my dumb ideas!
Eight is titled “Artistic Aspirations” which isn’t a creative title at all. It’s another multi-chapter, no powers au, blues fic!! Personally, I think it's too safe and boring to write. The story spans a few years; I’ve shortened the outline to make it readable, but it still ended up being too long, sorry.
Background on the girls at the start of the story:
Bubbles is 21 and a broke, struggling artist finishing/right out of undergrad. Lives in Cityville. she’s on the verge of having to crawl home to her family with her tail between her legs
BC is 23 and finishing her physical therapy program in Townsville. Still lives with the Professor, but she practically lives full time at her boyfriend's place. She’s semi-neurotic about her relationship, not because it’s unstable, but b/c she thinks it’s too good to be true. Butch, for what it’s worth, doesn’t blink an eye—just a chill dude in this one. VERY into BC.
Blossom is 25 and starting her law career. Lives on the East Coast, working for a successful firm. Would like to move back home at one point, but she hasn’t really had the “right” reason to.
Plot (under the cut!)
It opens with Bubbles at a diner waiting for her sisters at their regular booth. Life isn’t all rainbows and sunshine like she had hoped. At the diner, Buttercup announces that she and her long-term boyfriend are finally engaged! Bubbles has met Butch plenty of time as well as Brick, Butch’s older brother, but she has yet to meet his youngest brother. In fact, Bubbles doesn’t even know his name. Butch just affectionately refers to him as “my dumbass little brother,” which Brick (a defense lawyer here in Townsville) wholeheartedly agrees with. Butch has also said “he’s into all that artsy stuff like you. Draws and shit.”
Until they finally meet at the wedding
He wasn’t there for the wedding rehearsal because his flight was delayed—he was somewhere “fancy” according to Butch b/c of some “art thing, idk, he’ll be here.” “He better be!” Cries HIM, who is one of Butch’s dads, but Bubbles doesn’t really know how exactly b/c everyone is adamant that HIM and Mojo (their other eccentric father) have never once been in a relationship
So when Bubs finally meets the brother she’s walking down the aisle with, she—a person who has an undergrad degree in art (haven’t decided what kind yet lol)—is like WAIT BOOMER JOJO THE BOOMER JOJO?!?! He’s like, “lol sup” and she loses her mind because Butch’s dumbass little brother doesn’t just “draw and shit,” he’s actually an art world prodigy, who despite being very young and very alive, is considered very renowned in major art circles.
(Not Banksy per se, but he’s like one of those Bad Boy artists that would make other artists roll their eyes) (also a man of many projects but doesn’t have the follow-through for a lot of them—which if he wasn’t so good at the stuff he actually finishes, would bite him in the ass; he’s flaky, gets bored easily).
Bubbles is amazed she hasn’t made the connection between the brothers and Boomer just laughs.
There’s, quite predictably, an instant connection between the blues. Butch, who cares for his sister-in-law, is like “Bubs don’t date my brother. He’s not mature enough to be dating anyone.” And Bubbles doesn’t listen!! Because she’s desperate for love and this could also mean she’s finally getting her big break!! Their relationship is really intense and Boomer does end up getting her a nice cushy job at some indie gaming company that he’s dipping his toes in. But just a quick as the flame is lit, it goes out. Boomer gets bored, Bubbles’ art isn’t being taken seriously, and she ends up getting fired for creative differences. Fired and despondent, she gets her break-up text from Boomer the next day. The day after that, he’s dating a model.
Absolutely crushed, Bubbles packs up her bags, leaves his apartment, and moves back in with the Professor. Butch and Buttercup (and Brick—but he’s at work) are ready to kick ass. Bubbles though would rather forget about it and holes up in her childhood bedroom. Eventually, BC gets her out of the room, brings her to Butch and her’s home, and is like “listen I know you’re heartbroken, but ima need you to do something for me—“ and Bubbles is like omg srsly?? Right now?? And BC is like “I need a mural on that wall, something cutesy, ya kno a stork or something?” And Bubbles is about to snap but then, she's like WAIT A STORK!!! And a new baby on the way really brings Bubbles out of her stupor—it gets her painting again. (Bubbles is full of love and you can’t tell me she doesn’t love babies)
So the mural is a hit at the baby shower and Robin (longtime best friend, also pregnant), is like Bubbles please paint me one, and her partner Princess is like MONEY IS NO OBJECT IF ROBIN WANTS IT SHE GETS IT. And then, subsequently, Robin’s (and Princess’s) mural takes off in the rich, white lady community, and soon enough Bubbles is being commissioned for more than just Baby Murals. Princess goes around bragging that she was the one who “discovered her,” and becomes Bubbles' “business agent.”
Basically, Bubbles is on the rise. As opposed to Boomer, who is on the fall. He’s hit an art block. It’s really bad. His melancholy is really bad. Very much plays the “woe is me" card. Hasn’t been back to Townsville in a while, so when his nephew (who he’s met briefly over facetime lol) turns one, he decides to fly in for his birthday.
Plans to mope and bum off his brothers for a bit, but is shocked to see Bubbles, who he then realizes he shouldn’t be so shocked to see. Has a ream “this was a mistake, she’ll make scene” moment, but Bubbles greets him as if nothing between them had ever happened (LIKE A QUEEN). Boomer takes this personally. Then Boomer meets Princess, who gloats about Bubbles, and then, looks at the award-winning boy and goes, “so anyway, who are you again?”
This pisses Boomer off even more and then, over the course of the week he stays with the greens, this anger builds up. He eventually takes it out on Bubbles, like, “you wouldn’t be who you are without me.”
[cue that one blinking gif] Bubbles goes off. Boomer storms off. Romance is in the air.
Jk
[well I guess the reds are hitting it off, but that’s c-plot and who cares]
Princess isn’t privy to this growing resentment and only sees an Opportunity™. She reaches out to Boomer’s agent. Then, she reaches out to a museum, and is like “I’ve got the most BITCHING exhibit for you.” Then, she tells Bubbles about the gig she booked for her.
Bubbles and Boomer are like no way am I doing a collab with them. Boomer’s agent is like “chief ima be real with you, it’s this or nothing.” Princess looks at Bubbles and tells her to suck it up. So, they end up working together, which means Boomer is back in Townsville.
Cue lovers to enemies to friends back to lovers speedrun. Hello yes.
Because they’re forced to collaborate, because Bubbles is more confident, and because Boomer has been knocked down a peg or two, they actually (finally) get to know each other on a personal level. And being closer to family helps Boomer, in some ways, mature. It’s a whole connecting back to your roots “ive grown and im better now” character development for Boomer.
Ends ambiguous ;) but it's happy.
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angelicmichael · 3 years
Text
Hoax - Prologue
Michael Langdon x Mallory
Summary: After failing to kill murder house Michael; Mallory must travel back in time to Sojourn era to try again. However; she finds to her horrific discovery that jumping through time repeatedly does not come without its consequences.
Words: 3.0k+
Warnings: Death, They both almost die (or do die) so.. a lot of describing wounds and nearly dying and that jazz ✌🏻, major wounds, lowkey a dark fic, Mallory discusses wanting to kill Michael and finds celebrates it??, angst, Mallory goes and sees his dead body, blood
A/N: this takes place right after Mallory drives away from Michael in the finale btw!! I literally didnt intend on making it this dark but it just happened LOL. I feel like most of the dark stuff is vague so.. it should still be chill. This is the first time ive written millory/character x character so please go easy on me!! I also tried to follow canon and stay accurate to details the best I could but knowing me I probably fucked up somehow LMAO but enjoy 💖💖 major plot twist is coming in the next chapter btw! Also Mallorys thots are italicized.
As soon as Mallory drove away; she knew nearly immeadietly that it was too good to be true. Things could never be this fucking easy.
She felt a pit in her stomach almost instantaneously once she was in the year 2015; Even though she couldnt decipher if the anxiety was a warning or something else.. She continued on with the dark destiny she was put on this earth to fulfull.. to kill the antichrist.
Even though she was fully aware of this; and had come to terms with what she had to do - she learned the hard way that it didnt seem to make things easier at all; like how she dreamed it would. Although, even now as she continued to speed away from the infamous 'murder house', the drop in her stomach seemed to only grow; along with her self doubt.
Was he really dead??
Did I really do it??
She knew that the answer to both of those questions should be yes; but the longer she remained driving in her car, getting farther and farther away from where the incident had occured.. she knew something was wrong.
Mallory suddenly jolted the steering wheel into a sharp left; continuing to turn it until she was doing U-Turn.. She couldnt help but to feel completly bewildered at her own actions - never doing something so impulsive, like going back to a crime scene let alone commit murder, in her life.
Although Mallory felt a bit disgusted with her recent previous actions; she couldnt help but imagine how disgusted she would feel with herself if she didnt pull this off. She mulled over the previous thoughts she had had about this moment and how dreamed it would feel; she thought she would feel joy, elated, and at peace but.. instead she still felt as if she was being suffocated by his presence.
He wasnt gone. Not yet.
She pressed her foot down on the gas, she knew she hadn't gone too far away from Michael's residence yet it seemed as if it was a millenia away. The task she was supposed to complete was starting to seem more and more increasingly impossible the less distance was put between them.
If running him over with a car three times wasnt enough to kill him, whose to say anything else would? What if Constance had brought him inside?? What if she was still out there with him?? Mourning?
Mallory wasnt a monster; she wasnt going to tear away a dying boy from his grandmother in his (hopefully) final moments, even if he was the antichrist.
She felt as if she was a total loss for what to do; which made her grow sick to her stomach because she knew that was a cruel form of denial. She was destined for this moment; every moment thus far had led up to this.. so why did she feel like such a failure? Her thoughts grew more foggy and distant with panic; her throat became entirely dry as she slowed the car down. The murder house now in view; the first thing she noticed.
The red bricks and stained glass windows shined brightly in the sun. The house, which Mallory was sure typically looked beautiful, radiated a terrifying aura.. even more so this time versus when she was here only a mere minutes ago. The expanse and exterior of the house was intimidating; it held a certain danger to it that she couldnt pinpoint her finger on where the source came from.. it certainly was not Michael. Mallory knew that even if he wasnt dead; his powers would fade out for atleast a few minutes from being so wounded.
Mallory stopped the car once she saw Michael's dead body; which still resided in the middle of the road. Her feelings of panic and nausea only amplified once she saw his body -  her gaze lingering upon it. She approached him with no hesitation; she could nearly feel that he was gone.. his spirit momentarily missing.. somewhere else.
She studied him carefully and nearly pitifully as she crouched down to kneel next to his body. His body was littered and splattered with bright red wounds. His pants looked as if they were dip dyed in red paint; His once pale skin along with the majority of his clothes was covered in a bright red splatter. Long, dark red lacerations decorated his face. His mouth was still agape; his once white teeth were coated in the same shade of red his clothes were.
Even though he looked absolutely horrible; Mallory still felt absolutely no remorse for the antichrist. Knowing what he would become, and his sick ways of manipulation deserved no mercy. However, knowing only seconds ago he was nothing but a mere bloody, suffering child.. she couldnt help but to not fight the tears she felt budding at her eyes; letting one slide down her cheek before quickly wiping it away - she knew it was naive to assume she wasnt being watched.
Mallory wasnt stupid - she knew her powers and what she was capable of, like the back of her hand by now. The past few months practically consisted of her testing and expanding on her limits... She knew that healing Michael in this exact moment wasnt out of the question. In fact, it almost seemed to be more difficult to restrain herself from healing him.. but she knew better.
He deserves to fucking suffer. He deserved to rot in his personal hell; wherever that may be.
She couldnt help but to nearly laugh at the thought that he finally got what was fucking coming to him.
Mallory could feel herself shaking with how close she was to Michael now. She couldnt stand how he made her feel when they were this close - almost touching.
She now was kneeling next to his body on the concrete, her knees aching from the rough surface but she couldnt go just yet. Not when she still had no fucking clue where to go from here.
The world seemed as if it came to stand still; nothing seemed like it existed outside of the small bubble that Mallory felt her and Michael were suddenly trapped in.. The birds stopped singing, no cars happened to drive by.. everything just stopped.
All the spirits and souls that Mallory could feel that were trapped within the grounds of the house, didnt bother to make a appearance either. But she knew they were still there... she could still feel their eyes on her. Watching; waiting.
The sun's warmth, which normally Mallory chose to bask in, was starting to make her itch. She could feel her skin start to moisten with sweat.. Instinctively she knew that her sudden newfound state of being uncomfortable was her cue to leave... To go where though? She wasnt sure.
Why am I still here? If everything had happened correctly; if I really killed him.. then why havent I woken up yet??
Mallory continued to stare at him grimly; not quite brave enough to speak but still managing to maintain the courage to sit by him and look at the damage she caused. The most jarring feature of Michael's current appearance would be his eyes. Mallory couldnt help but to stare at them; and it certainly wasnt because they were beautiful.
His once vibrant, sky blue, irises were now starting to look oddly dull. A faint, milky white color looked as if it were painted over them instead.
His skin was now a bruised white; Mallory shakily extended out her hand - pressing the back of her knuckles softly to his forearm. She wanted to see how cold his body was; and when she made contact - she pulled her hand back so fast as if it had been burned. She hissed, the coolness of his skin stunned her. She stared at his body intensely - shocked that she even dared to touch him, let alone even stick around for this long. 
The sounds Michael started to make is what finally drove Mallory to wake up out her near trance she found herself amidst in and to realize the reality of the situation. After minutes of silence and stillness, and sure death, Michael's chest finally started to move. The amount at which his chest moved was nearly minuscule at first; but he was recovering rather quickly.. too fucking quickly for Mallorys liking.
It was almost sickly ironic how Mallorys chest started to move faster and faster as soon as Michael's did; she couldn't help but to feel entirely panicked. The rest of her emotions; her thoughts; her feelings; everything that used to make up her was now fleeting.. rapidly leaving until as she could focus on was the oxygen briskly escaping her.
She watched the color from his skin start to return; the off putting stark whiteness leaving and a very subtle pink gracing his skin tone. More noticeably; she observed how the color in his lips and eyes returned back.. almost appearing normal.
She unconsciously found herself rising; panic still occupying all of her senses. She quickly unfolded her legs and steadied herself as she stood up.. One thought and one thought only rang through her mind like a sick mantra..
I need to get the fuck out of here.
Mallory tried to gasp as she suddenly felt her throat grow incredibly dry; she let out a desperate dry cough. Her eyes started to tear up unwillingly as she felt a enormous amount of self doubt suddenly surge into the core of her being - the feeling slipping momentarily into her soul.
The world around her began to spin and melt away simultaneously; until she felt her physical body melt away from Michael and the Murder House incredibly rapidly before she could even fully process what was happening.
She felt the harsh coldness of the bath tub water for a split second before she emerged; the black water engulfing her as she stayed partially concealed within the water. Immeadietly she found herself gasping and gagging on her tongue from not being able to breath possibly fast enough... The next thing she felt was otherworldly pain. She felt so much fucking pain.
Mallory gripped the edge of the bathtub until her fingertips turned white and her nails threatened to split. She stayed like that for a moment; spitting and gasping, trying to find a way to consume as much oxygen as possible while managing the nearly unimaginable pain. Her entire body throbbed but her eyes felt a different pain; a sickly stinging.
Keeping her posture and preventing herself from slipping entirely back into the black water was a fucking mission in itself, she quickly learned. She didnt even bother to pretend to be quiet.. Her breaths and groans were far too loud to even begin to ignore.
Is Michael still alive?  Where is Myrtle?
Mallorys lungs seemed to return to normal capacity after a while, her gasping decreased until she was utterly and completely quiet. She arose from the water as quietly as she possibly could, biting her lip to prevent making any additional noise from the sudden cold air she felt against her body.. stinging and torturous..
Her eyes still ached, bringing her hands instinctively to her eyes to stop the pain - she realized ones of her hands was still balled into a fist.. holding onto something.
Was that.. is that MICHAELS hair??
Mallory stared at the once curly, perfectly golden strands of hair that lie in her balled up fist in complete horror - it was now a dark red from the blood that had washed off her skin and into the water.
There was no way this was HIS hair. It had to be someone elses; anyone elses! She refused to believe that she was holding onto anything that belonged or had to do with Michael... complete disgust and delirium rendered her from thinking that.
Her first instinct was to drop the hair; but something told her to keep holding onto the lock, it would only serve her well in the future.
Her vision was inky with blood; dark red clouding her vision and making her feel even more impaired and utterly hopeless then she already felt.. even with the large wound still gaping and bleeding from her stomach. Her stomach wound made her entire body ache, trying to stay conscious was a fight within itself.
It happened again. I failed.
She wasnt sure if she was just being cynical or if her thoughts were even to be trusted anymore when she was in this state.. she only knew she wanted this horrible nightmare to be fucking over with already. She wanted to wake up in Robichauxs and see her sisters; Misty, Madison, Queenie, Zoe and more than anyone.. Cordelia... Oh fuck.
Cordelia... She was still dead.. because of me.
Mallory blinked slowly a few times; taking her free hand and wiping as much blood away from her face and eyes as she could - just enough so she could fully take in her surroundings.
If she could feel her stomach; she was sure she would feel it drop because as much as she looked, she saw no one. Absolutely no one. Tears slipped down her cheeks but they werent bloody anymore. She knew she was completely fucked; he had her cornered.
Well not literally anyways. He still managed to lurk somewhere within the vast empty walls of Outpost Three; most likely looking for her.. but he had to know she was fatally wounded.. right? 
That's when out of the thick silenceness, she heard the first sign of life. Loud; but distant heavy footsteps.
Michael.
She knew she was fucked right away. She could almost feel his spirit itself within Hawthorne; the feeling slowly flowing to her until it forced her to be frozen. Petrified, still sopping wet and with some left over blood dripping off her chin - she knew what she had to do.. and she only had seconds to do it. Mallory knew he was approaching closer and closer the longer she stood docile in the bathtub.. like a idiot.
She took deep, heavy breaths. Fully; for the first time, cherishing the feeling of oxygen in her lungs - knowing that she very well might not make it out alive. Preforming time travel once alone was a enormous feat; but she had already done it twice.. but three times?
The thought simultaneously scared and excited her; she continued take deep breaths before relaxing. Closing her eyes and focusing; searching for a moment in Michael's history to go back too.
There had to be another time Michael was weak besides when he was with Constance at the murder house.. Another time that he felt abandoned.. lost.. confused..
She swallowed as she felt and focused on the soft strands of hair that she held onto; trying to search desperately for the answer that she needed as she took the next step and plunged herself under the water, first barely managing to weakly whisper, "tempus infinituum".
The water tore at her skin as she felt herself letting go from the past reality... slowly yet rapidly her senses seemed to all melt away at once before she was floating- until nothing.
Suddenly Mallory opened her eyes, blinking as she kept calm as she adjusted to her new surroundings.. an open, nearly empty forest was what welcomed her as she slowly spun around.
The smell of pine leaves and the heavy scent of the forest consumed her senses. She first felt calm and at peace; the forest was beautiful. She almost felt tempted to forget about what she came here to do and to lose herself within the sea of greenery but.. something was terribly wrong.
More so; someone was here.
Mallory first stood still; puzzled as to why she was now standing in a vacant forest with pine needles at her feet.
She didnt dare say a word out loud, just in case, but she knew she was waiting for something before she dared to take a step.. she was waiting for a sign. She didnt bat a eye when she felt a soft, warm breeze tousle her hair forward. She felt it continue to crash against her body - almost like soft waves crashing upon rocks. She felt it on her warm skin; her skin getting goosebumps as she knew what this meant. She was getting her sign.
This is it. Is he here?
Mallory giggled at the mere thought; the anticipation and glee of imagining how this nightmare perhaps could be over in the near future was making her experience true euphoria.
She began to walk through the forest; passing several trees as she searched for what she was yearning for. The breeze was far gone by now but she knew to keep going; to keep looking. She looked at the forest landscape that lie ahead of her; a sea of moss and blended greens and blues. The forest didnt have the same magic it typically held though; something was missing.
It was because she was getting closer to him.
Mallory had to suppress a scream as she suddenly felt herself step on something that wasnt the forest floor. She felt a painful shiver run directly down her spine, almost as if someone was running a blade down her back. She was becoming consumed with panic once more; and with the sudden realization what was happening.. What this meant.
It was pure reflex which caused her to take a step back; even before she had the opportunity to look down and confirm her suspicions, she knew exactly what she had stepped on. A body.
She quickly looked down at what she had stepped on - not able to take the anonymity of the individual any longer.. and of course..
I fucking knew it.
She recognized who it was immeadietly, curly blonde hair that was mangled with dirt and a typical black outfit.. it was too easy to guess the identity of the body. He was face down, his body sprawled out unnaturally and in a uncomfortable manner..
It was once again; Michael Langdon.
Taglist: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @beyond-repentance @lizzy-claire-fandom
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levisnackajack · 3 years
Text
The Wrath of War
Chapter Seventeen
“We’ll get through this,” Eren had said, pulling his friends into a tight, group hug. Eden nodded, the muffled voices around her slowly slowly becoming sharper and clearer. 
Where was she?
“You, Mikasa, Eden and I. We’ll join the Scout Regiment and fight for the sea. We’ll fight for the taste of freedom. And then when that day comes, we’ll sit together and reminisce about all the tough times we’ve gone through just to get to that moment,” Armin replied softly as they pulled away. 
Each child had a flame in their eyes. Two pairs of crystal blue eyes, a duo of onyx jewels as well as another pair of honey-colored eyes that glinted with a shade of emerald. After the horrors they had witnessed that day in Shiganshina; the deaths that had cracked through each crevice of their bones; they had vowed to fight until death grabbed their hand. 
Eden felt drowsy as the world around her slowed down and the faces of her friends grew blurry. She looked around to see the atmosphere change, those distant voices that rang at the back of her mind growing more realistic. 
“Hey, Eden, I brought you an apple. Well, honestly, Connie made me give it up. I actually really wanted to eat that apple...-” 
Slap
“Ouch, sorry. Scratch that, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just joking, hehe,” Sasha rambled on, rubbing her arm as she rolled her eyes at Connie’s irked stare. 
Velveteen lashes fluttered opened gradually; the immediate light burning her pupils. Eden hissed, shutting her eyes once more as she came to her senses at a dreadfully slow pace. She caught sight of the familiar layout vividly resembling the medical quarters situated at their base. 
Two light gasps bounced through the air. Her bed shifted under moving weight and once she took a deep breath; Eden managed to open one eye. 
Sasha and Connie stared at her through comically wide eyes. The girl blinked slowly at them, raising a weak hand to touch her pounding temple. 
“What...happened?” 
The duo exchanged glances and Sasha swallowed thickly. Connie bounced on his heels before clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck.
“You got severely injured on the battlefield. Safe to say, you were this close to being squeezed to death,” Connie pinched his fingers together, indicating the lack of space between his index and his thumb finger. “You’ve been out cold for the past couple of days, on IV’s and stuff, I don’t know.” 
Eden tried sitting up, but the weight of her tattered body pleaded her to remain still. “What do you mean I’ve been ‘out cold for the past couple of days’? What about Armin? He was with me, is he okay? And the rest, where are they?” The words trickled out through her lips like a mellow waterfall. 
Sasha sent her a wary smile, placing her hand over hers against the warm blanket. “Everyone from our team is healthy and safe. Unfortunately, we can’t say the same about Hange’s squad. She lost a couple of her comrades during the battle.” She lowered her eyes as she spoke, bottom lip quivering. 
Eden let go of a slow sigh, the movement causing her lungs to burn up and swell against her heart. She palmed the fabric of her blanket in between her fingers. “Shit. Was the mission a failure then? Did we manage to secure the sighting hotspot?” 
Both of her comrade-friends shook their heads glumly. Connie spoke up.
“We came back to help Hange’s team after seeing that separation would only make things worse. Captain Levi shot the final flare at the sight of literally a dozen titans heading our way. We just didn’t have enough manpower to push through all of them; especially since your team was already completely ambushed. No one expected it to be that bad...” 
Eden stayed silent as she tried to process his words. Her brain racked against her skull as she thought about all the pain and suffering her fallen comrades had experienced right before their lives were ripped out of their bodies by the vile, humanoid creatures. It made her blood boil and her lip quiver. 
“How did you manage to pull me out of the titan’s grasp? I can’t remember much except how peaceful I began feeling when I finally closed my eyes...I thought I was dead...”
“We’re so happy you’re not, Eden. What happened was...-”
“Excuse me, leave the poor girl to rest,” the familiar voice of the assigned nurse made her two friends jump out of their skin. She ushered them both out in an irritated voice before walking back to Eden. 
“Can you please tell me what’s wrong with me? When can I join my team back on the field...-”
“Not anytime soon, dear. You should be grateful you’re not currently six-feet under. Your lungs collapsed due to the pressure, so you’ll be sticking to bedrest for the time being until it gets better. Don’t look at me like that, I told you, it could’ve been worse. There was some internal bleeding that we stopped once you arrived, what else...ah yes, you’re lucky...this time, you managed to fracture just two ribs!” The nurse told her, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she spoke. 
Eden refrained from the need to roll her eyes at her and involuntarily winced instead at the sudden pains in her chest. The medic assured her that this would happen often until her internal organs heal with the help of medication, rest and the will to live. 
 Deep down, through all the trauma her body underwent that day; Eden’s mind was fixed on one tiny thought that seemed to devour her entire soul; would Captain Levi come and visit her? 
The day’s hours quickly trickled by as Eden spent it dealing with constant visits, naps and by sulking and glaring at the ceiling. She begged the nurse to give her something to numb the pain; but the older woman had assured her that she will do so after dinner.
Eden didn’t even have enough energy to snap back at her. 
The sun began settling, bringing in a warm, orange shade into the infirmary. The rays grazed against Eden’s blanket, caressing her skin softly as her body began to ache. Mikasa had just left, bidding her a good night after helping Eden bathe.
The injured girl felt like such a nuisance and begged her friend multiple times to leave, stating she could manage on her own. But Mikasa being Mikasa; never left her side. Her nurse finally injected her with a large dose of painkillers, assuring her that they would stop the pain for at least a couple of long hours. She had also told her that they would make her feel sleepy and droopy. Eden merely nodded and thanked her for the medication.
Now, tightly wrapped up in her warm duvet, the charcoal-haired girl counted the each clock tick; completely bored out of her mind. She didn’t feel like the medicine had kicked in yet; but the nurse had reassured her that it could take some time for them to kick in and knock her out. Her eye twitched at the sound of the door gently opening. 
A tender smile crept up on her face as he made his way towards her bed. 
“Hi, Jeanie-boy,” she greeted him softly, tilting her head towards him against the pillow. 
His expression was strained and that remained intact when he sent her a smile, pulling her hand into his. “Hi, darling. How are you feeling?” 
“I’ve been better, but I’ll manage. Can’t get rid of me that quickly now, can you?” 
He let go of a gentle huff, his thumb rubbing circles against her soft skin. Eden bit her lip, brows lacing together slightly. He remained silent, staring down at their interlinked fingers.
“Something is wrong. Talk to me,” she urged him gently, squeezing his hand with her palm. 
Jean pursed his lips tightly; clenching his jaw tightly as contemplation painted against his tense face. “Do you remember what happened...that day?” 
Eden’s own expression grew more rigid as she tried her best to call back any memories she had. She released an exasperated sigh, sinking deeper into the pillow. 
“I’m sorry Jean. I really can’t remember much. My horse threw me off the saddle; Armin came back for me...we ran towards the horses and then a titan just grabbed me. That’s all I recall.”
Jean bit his lip before running a hand across his face; shifting against her mattress. She watched him silently, afraid that if she pushed him; he’d snap at her. And she wanted Jean to open up on his own terms. 
“I feel like I can’t really do this anymore, Eden.” 
Her almond eyes grew larger, lips parting in wonder. “Can’t do what, Jean? What’s going on?” 
The boy only shook his head in response, eyes betraying how deep in thought he was. Eden’s heart clenched uneasily. 
“I can’t just share you. It’s not right and I don’t feel good knowing I can’t have you all to myself.” 
His confession hung in the air heavily. Jean watched her carefully as she tried understanding his words. But, to no avail. 
“I-I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” 
Jean pinched the bridge of his nose before saying, “You’ll understand what I’m telling you on your own terms. I’m sorry it has to go down this way. You mean so much to me, Chiasa. And I can fully understand the situation you’re in right now. The confusion and all. I’ve been in that position. Which is why I’m trying to help you make things easier- even if nothing makes sense to you right now.”
Eden placed her other hand over his, grazing the skin on the back of his palm reassuringly. She listened intently to each word; feeling her heart crack just a little bit.
“I don’t want to lose you, Jean.”
The boy made a face, leaning in closer towards the resting girl. “Psh, who said anything about losing anyone? There’s no way in hell you’ll lose me, Eden; you can trust me on that. Otherwise, you can write a letter to my mother and tell her how embarrassed I was when she sent me that stuffed plush bear and you were the one who caught me with it.” 
The memory made Eden laugh, her eyes crinkling at the edges as Jean’s own brown eyes twinkled down at her. 
“That’s a deal.” 
Jean leaned in closer, pressing his warm, plush lips against Eden’s forehead. She closed her eyes, taking in his scent that seemingly overwhelmed her entirely. Everything with him was so cozy, definite and practically perfect. It was such a stark juxtaposition to the feelings the man with steely, blank eyes sparked within her. 
“But, just because I’ve decided to let you go now, does not mean I will not keep trying,” he muttered when pulling away. Eden sent him a toothy grin that was masked with a layer of grimness once her question slammed against her brain.
“Can you tell me what happened after I blacked out?” 
Jean’s eyes darkened as he looked down at their hands. He gritted his teeth, craning his neck to the side before meeting her curious gaze. 
“I...I was the one who saved you.” He hesitated for a moment, but continued nevertheless. “When all went to shit and the Captain shot the terminated mission flare; I made my way back to you. I don’t know what it was, but I just knew that something was wrong. I found Armin charging at the bastard that had grabbed you, aiming for its wrist tendon but...I managed to slice its nape seconds before you were going to land in its mouth. It was a miracle, really. If I was even a millisecond late; you would have...died.” 
Eden felt like the air was knocked out of her bruised lungs. She looked away, realization creeping down her spine as she thought back to how close she was to death. Only to be saved and gifted with another chance at life. She suppressed a yawn, her lids growing heavier.
Jean released an empty, humorless laugh; shaking his head at the memories that flashed before his eyes. “And then, when I got to you...you said his name.” He stood abruptly, gently laying Eden’s hand back against the softness of the duvet as she watched him sleepily; her mind overpowered by the drug previously injected into her bloodstream to tend to the pains. 
She was drowning in so many questions, but felt like she didn’t have enough time to answer them for herself. She called for Jean gently; earning a sweet, supple smile from the boy as he gazed down at her. His head snapped towards the entrance and immediately, his expression contorted into one filled with deep-rooted vexation. 
“Out of everyone within the walls; why him?” Jean muttered under his breath- a question devoted more to himself rather than the dazed girl on the brink of slumber. He bid her a good night and went his separate way.
Eden groaned in response, her lids completely slipping shut by the time the sound of approaching boots had reached her ears. 
Tags: @idiot-juice-enthusiast   @hadassackerman
Thank you for all the support!! xx
Link to the story in AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28919136/chapters/70952145
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Encore - Harry Hook x reader -  Part 17 - bday present for myself~
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Harry cursed to himself, the island he was going to use to propose to (y/n) on was some sanctuary for an endangered species and the wildlife preserves didn’t want humans on the island. So he would have to figure out something else for his propos…wait…her birthday was next week! And he had been wanting to do a surprise party for her, and Gil had suggested a scavenger hunt for her to do to keep her busy.
He already had the ring, permission to marry her from her aunt, and the knowing that if he asked, she would say yes…
All he had to do was add one more thing.
=
You sighed, setting down the heavy crate, wiping sweat from your neck as you stood. “gods, why does it gotta be so warm today” you groaned, undoing the colling towel from your belt and tossing it on your face “aahhhh that’s the good stuff~”
“(y/n) what are you doing?” you took off the towel and tossed it around your neck, sighing as the heat on your neck finally decreased.
“cooling down, it's like 95 out here” you complained, turning to look at Bonnie, who was holding two cold waterbottles “oohhhh fuckin-thank you!” she snorted and tossed one to you, you caught It in mid-air and cracked it open, gulping down the cold drink.
“slow down girl” Bonnie chuckled, cracking opening her bottle and starting to drink “oh, happy birthday by the way” you burped and grinned at her.
“Thanks, Bonnie,” you blinked in surprise as she handed you a note. “oh, thank-“
“yeah yeah, see you later girl” Bonnie trotted off deck, soon walking out of sight. You shrugged and tore open the paper.
It was Harry's handwriting.
-hello my bonnie lass~ today is your birthday and I wanted to celebrate it by giving you a scavenger hunt to your party today
It will be from the isle to Auradon, no stone left unturned.
Now go to the place, where our first meeting occurred.
You pursed your lips, tilting your head, where you first met huh? Well, that would be on the isle. You closed the note and stuffed it in your pocket, heading to your cabin for a moment to change your clothes, grab your bag, and your motorbike keys.
=
You looked around the slightly collapsed building, where you had originally met harry, after the chase between the gaston twins and you.
“oh,” you gasped, kneeling next to a large chunk of building and pulling out an envelope beneath it. Standing up you leaned against the wall and opened the note, a small bracelet falling out with it, golden painted seashells and opals danced across the metal, you slipped it on and read the note.
-you found it lass, now in the spot where the stars shine bright, the place I realized my heart was yours that night.
You groaned slightly, a smile on your face, he was being cheesy with these hints, but his rhyming wasn’t bad.
But you knew exactly where he was talking about, the hiding spot.
=
You took off your shoes, walking along the shore of the small inlet. You took a deep breath, the air much cleaner than the first time you had been here.
You spotted the white envelope holding the next clue, you trotted over and pulled it out, smiling at the long thin box underneath it. You pulled the box and opened it, clicking your tongue and tilting your head.
A new golden chain for your ruby necklace. You closed the box and slipped it into your bag, opening the note you laughed at the twin's messy handwriting.
-hi aunt (y/n)! harry let us write this note! -skipper
-so the next clue is “where you joined the crew”-sterling
“that’s an easy one” you snorted, but you couldn’t give them crap, they were only 12. So you walked the short distance from the hidden beach to the chip shop, nodding to the patrons as you entered.
“Hey (y/n) Hook left this for ya” Cook handed you the letter and a small bag, you grinned and nodded. “happy birthday by the way”
“Thanks, cook, see you later” you walked out of the shop and leaned on the docks outside. Opening the bag you snorted at the new leather gloves inside, small painted designs on the leather.
“such a dork” you whispered, taking out the note and grinning at it.
-another job well done my love, now for the place were we spar, and we “hit” it off
You groaned and rubbed your forehead, you remembered that…your head still hurt after that day.
=
You stepped onto the old lost revenge, even with Umas magic, it had been unable to sail again, so now it was used as an isle home for the crew. Desiree grinned, holding up the note and another small bag.
“hey, commander~ happy birthday!”
“Thanks, Desiree” you chirped, grabbing the note and bag from her “you can go ahead and do what you’re supposed to do after you give me this”
“Thanks, girl, see you later!” she hopped off the rails and walked off the ship, going through the tunnel to the bridge.
You opened the bag to see a scarlet headband with silver hook embroidered into the side, you slipped it on and opened the note.
-hope Desiree didn’t just leave the present unattended for you to find but! This next clue is just across the border, when I got to hold you in my arms once again.
Alright, to the bridge it is.
=
You stepped across where the magic barrier used to be, looking to your left, seeing a small stone holding down a note.
You walked over and picked it up, seeing no mini present. Opening it up you smiled.
-sorry love no present with this one, too risky for someone to take it, but this next one will be where we walked into Auradon together for the first time
Alright then, so just the other side of the bridge. Turning around you walked back to your motorbike and swung your leg over the seat and started the engine. You quickly strapped your helmet on and drove to the other side of the bridge.
=
You tilted your head at Evie, who smiled and waved at you, holding out a note “hey (y/n)! happy birthday! Here you go!” you dismounted your bike and met her halfway, nodding at her.
“Thanks, Evie, see you later” she nodded and ran off, presumably to your “surprise” party. Opening the note you chuckled.
-astute as always love (though im not really making these hard am I?) but the next is where I learned I wouldn’t be ripped from your arms for the second time
The courtyard of Bens castle, where you and Harry had gotten the keys from Persephone. You got back on your bike and rode off through the bridge gate to Auradon, making the 15 minute trip to bens castle.
“hey beasty boy!” you called, waving to the king who was just exiting his castle “you probably got something for me don’t cha?”
He shrugged “maybe? Dunno- ow” you punched his shoulder and held out your hand “okay okay here, I’ll see you later (y/n)” he handed you the next note and walked off, but you didn’t bother to pay attention where.
You ripped open the envelope, once more smiling at Harry's handwriting.
-Final clue my love, where we stepped through to our new life
That one made you think for a moment before it hit you. The door, the very first door you and harry stepped through to get to your world.
But you don’t remember a room behind it? Which it probably did but who knows. Good news was the door was in Bens castle so you unlipped your helmet and hung it off one of the handles, walking through the gates and making your way through the castle.
You stood in front of the door, looking at the small note taped to it.
-happy birthday (y/n)
You took a breath and opened the door, laughing as the room burst with streamers and confetti.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!”
The entire crew, the core four, Ben, Jane, Lonnie, even Audrey was there, blowing horns and throwing confetti in the air, screaming in your face.
“guys!” you whipped a stray tear from your cheek “awwww…ive never been thrown a surprise party before!”
“Really?” Jane gasped “why not?!”
You shrugged, “dunno, guys people from my world aren’t as amazing as you guys”
“aw thanks” Evie sniffed, smiling at something behind you. You rose your brow at her and turned around, gasping and stumbling back.
“H-Harry?! Wha-“ Harry stood infront of you, a clean dark red suit fitted on his body, his hair combed back yet still in that wild style you loved, his eyeliner clean.
“(y/n), yeh have been the light of meh life for the past two years, since yeh fell into my life. Yeh have saved me from becoming a dark bitter person hell-bent on revenge, yeh have saved me from my da, yeh have protected meh family” oh gods you were already crying “and eh have both given and helped meh love, and I want to spend the rest of meh life with yeh, and love yeh for the rest of meh life, so” he kneeled on one knee, taking out a red velvet box from his pocket and opening it, revealing his mothers red ruby ring, in a brand new golden band with small bits of sea glass running down the sides “will you marry me-“ you fell to your knees, tears streaming down your face, unable to talk.
You let out incomprehensible babbles and nodded, leaping into Harry's arms and wrapping your arms around his neck “Im guessing it’s a yes” Harry chuckled, pulling you back and smiling, tears brimming in his eyes.
“yes” you croaked “yes I will marry you, you giant dork” Harry laughed but you shut him up quickly, pressing your lips to his.
Harry hummed into the kiss, lifting you slightly and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
“Alright alright” Carlos chuckled, walking over and patting Harry's shoulder “wed rather not see you two do it right in front of us please”
Harry separated from you and glared at Carlos “shut it up, let me enjoy this” he muttered, smiling at you and helping you stand, sliding the ruby ring onto your ring finger.
He kissed you again, bringing up your hand and kissing it “happy birthday my love”
“I love you Harry” you whispered, still whipping away your tears.
“I love you too (y/n)”
--end of part 17--
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ankhisms · 3 years
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the always wonderful shelley @shanheling tagged me to do this thank u so much!! i think that everyone i wanted to tag has already been tagged to do this but if you feel like doing this feel free to consider urself tagged by me!! im putting this under a readmore bc its long and i ramble a lot
the piece i was tagged to explain my process on is this oc piece! unfortunately i have a habit of deleting my original clip studio file once ive finished my art and saved it as a new png file, so i dont have the file to show the sketch and different stages of this piece. but I still can go through my general process and talk about how i did that piece!
1. planning
honestly i think about the art that i want to do a lot, and in this last year or so ive thought about the art i want to do more than ive been able to actually create and finish that art that i want to do. for my planning i tend to do a lot of different thumbnail sketches for the art im thinking of
these are some examples of thumbnails, a lot of times ill do thumbnails just on pencil and paper and with some of these theyre done quickly with my fingers on my phone note function on a day where i was feeling too bad to get up and draw on paper but still wanted to get the thumbnail ideas down. two of these are for the same songxiao piece that i still havent finished and i have more thumbnails digitally on clip studio for the same piece, i do a lot more thumbnails when a piece isnt working the way i want it to and theres times where ill completely scratch a thumbnail or a sketch and start over in order to do more thumbnails because i dont feel happy with some aspect of it.
two of these are small gouche painting thumbnails for two pieces i did maybe a month or so ago, i did the thumbnails and then tried to expand on them digitally and im wanting to do more thumbnail paintings like this in the future because it was fun
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for the piece of my oc trio it was based off a series of ask prompts i got for a few different outfit prompt memes i had reblogged, so i based their outfits on the ones in the meme. when im drawing figures i tend to try and get the movement down in the poses when im sketching, i do several rough sketches of the pose before beginning to start setting down lines (if im doing lineart at all because sometimes i dont like doing lineart and do a more lineless painting kind of style). i really try to get my art to convey some kind of emotion, in the oc piece i wanted it to feel fun and like youre seeing three best friends while theyre out on the town having a fun night
2. creating
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this is the only real example i have of a piece in the middle of being filled in and created, this piece is one that im really not very happy with & have had lying around for a while and ill probably scrap it and try to come at it from a different perspective at some point. but anyway it still shows what i do, i lay down a kind of neutral gray color underneath my final sketch/lineart if im doing lineart in that piece and then i start picking out the colors that i want for the piece and kind of setting out a pallette for myself. i dont do this color pallette thing 100% of the time but i do it really often, especially if im working on a commission or a larger piece where i know theres going to be a lot of colors or if its a piece where im not sure exactly what color scheme i want so laying out the colors together helps me kind of decide what kind of scheme i want. i am sooooo picky about my colors in my art i am genuinely obsessed with colors in art and there are times where i really have to stop myself from working on something forever just constantly adding more colors or putting little tiny changes and gradients in the colors.
after ive got the colors i want down i tend to try and block out parts of the piece with the base color for that section, and then i start to paint with the colors that i want to go on top of that base color from there.
once im satisfied with the colors/shading/rendering and everything ill go back and look over things and will fix things that look off or sometimes completely redo segments if they dont look right to me. when i was younger and mainly doing digital art using my phone and my fingers i would use a lot of filters and overlays on top of my art once i was done, and honestly im glad to not be doing that anymore because i dont think it made my art look any better. i do color adjustments and sometimes will put on a color overlay or a layer to emphasize the shadows and the light in the piece, but i try to keep those layers to a minimum and like i said before i have a tendency to obsess over the colors and ill spend a good amount of time in the color adjustment tool of clip studio and then ill just decide "actually it looks fine as it is" so yeah!
3. posting
i feel like i dont have a lot to say here gbfm i mean i honestly have a lot of thoughts about the relationship between artists and social media and how social media changes our views on art including our own art and how we can feel like we constantly need to be posting new art and just become content machines churning out new stuff. but ill save that rant for another time. i used to be really concerned about how many notes my art would get when i was younger, and i dont at all blame anyone who still is very concerned about that bc it sucks when u work hard on something youve created and then you dont get a lot of recognition for it, but honestly within the last two years or so i feel like ive begun to have a lot healthier relationship with posting my art. i really just post my art on my art blog, reblog it to my main blog, and then thats that yknow! i do really appreciate any and all support people give me, it means the world to me, but for me having the mentality where i dont need to post all the art i make and i dont need to be posting every day or every week or every month even has been a lot healthier for me because then im not constantly asking myself why didnt this get notes is my art awful??? and yeah i just kind of post it and my brain goes okay were done with that art we gotta make more
ive honestly been struggling a lot with art thru the pandemic and if youre reading this and have been struggling with creating in any way recently or even before the pandemic, please know theres no shame in having trouble creating and it doesnt make you bad at whatever it is u create!
thank you for reading this, feel free to consider urself tagged by me again if u want to do this!! love u all
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