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harry-writings · 4 years

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Drive Me Wild

- where Harry has a problem expressing emotions, and Y/n talks too much

Masterlist

A/N: mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, indications of depression, and a very mild form of smut (if we can really call it that)

Song mentioned: Invisible String by Taylor Swift

December 23, 2016

“Do you even have feelings for me?”

Celeste was sitting across the booth at their local diner, a half-empty mug of hot chocolate left stale at the table top, her eyes wet and cold just like the December she’d been trying so desperately to feel warm in.

Harry had his hands held together in front of him, his eyes void and stare blank as his mind played back to all the times he’d given his all to her. Sure, he didn’t always do it with a smile on his face or with lovestruck eyes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy.

And how could she not see it? How could she not feel it? He didn’t even bother spending his time with anybody else because he didn’t like anybody else. She was his only company, his only kiss, his only friend.

How was that not enough?

“What would make you think that I don’t?”

She laughed, right in his face, like it wasn’t enough to tear him apart.

“You’re kidding me, right?” She looked serious then, her face fallen and lips frowned. He felt stupid because he must have done something he couldn’t remember, or something to blindly hurt her feelings, yet he had no idea what it was. They were doing so good. “Do you even know how you look at me? Like I’m not even here. Like I’m boring you half to death. I can’t even tell what you’re feeling right now.”

Broken, sad, confused. He wanted to tell her that — he really did — but what would it have mattered? He’d still have that same meaningless stare and that same emptiness that had brought them to that very moment. She wouldn’t believe him even if she wanted to.

And it shouldn’t have broken him as much as it did, considering they weren’t even dating — just testing the waters, feeling each other out, wondering if their dreams could ever belong in their reality — but it hurt him just the same. She was the closest thing to a girlfriend Harry ever had, after all.

“Talking to you is like — it’s like talking to a wall. You’re just… there.”

She stopped to look at him more intentionally then — maybe she had missed something all along. Maybe, there was something he did to show the smallest of his emotions, like a shift in his eye, a pitch in his breath, a quiver of his lip.

But just like every other time, there was nothing. He was incurably empty.

“I think you’ve laughed at something I’ve said maybe, five times?” She let out a breathy chuckle because the tension was so thick she could hardly keep herself together, and she was so nervous, and he was so unpredictable. “And then you have this way with your words where, like you say certain things to beat around the bush about how you truly feel about me, and then it makes me wonder if it’s because you don’t even feel that way at all.”

He wanted to argue with her so bad. He wanted so badly to prove to her how wrong she was but how could he have, when she was so right?

Nobody had ever taught him how to do that — the relationships, the emotions, the vulnerability that came with being human. He couldn’t even recall a single time his parents had laughed at something he had said — couldn’t recall his parents ever having friends over, having date nights, even smiling at one another.

And to make matters worse, he was an only child. He was constantly around the voidance of his parents, the empty conversations, the pit of silences — really, that was all he had ever known. And later, that was what he grew into.

And if he could have changed it, he would have. But how does one go from keeping it all inside, to letting it all out?

He’s tried it all — emptying bottles of wine, smoking down blunts, shoving pills down his throat — and still couldn’t he laugh alongside himself, smile at memories that haven’t let him go, pour his heart out to strangers.

That wasn’t him. That wasn't who he was supposed to be, no matter how hard he tried to be that person for her.

But again, why wasn’t that enough?

“But I’m here, aren’t I?”

Celeste looked at him like it was the last time she was ever going to. And he knew.

“I don’t think you want to be.”

Y/n is utterly incapable of leaving Harry alone.

And Harry’s always alone, Y/n finds. Between every meeting and during every lunch hour, Harry always has a space beside him that’s just as empty and vacant as he is — well, just as empty and vacant as he comes off — and she assumes that’s why nobody’s ever been willing to take it.

But Y/n finds herself beside him more than she finds herself anywhere else.

Everyday when the clock hits twelve and lunch hour begins, Y/n sits in the chair right beside his and talks to him about anything and everything she can think of — the books she’s read, her childhood memories, the dreams she had the previous night — because he shouldn’t be left all alone the way he’s been so used to.

He doesn’t deserve it. He isn’t just a heartless, lifeless man passing through his days and night without feeling anything, he’s so much more than that — so much more than his blank stares, his vacant expressions, and his linear lips.

There’s something so unexplainably mesmerizing and compelling about him, she can’t help but wonder how nobody else has felt it. It’s magnetic, the way he tells the world everything it needs to know by the look and glimmer in his eye.

It’s all there, everything is there, yet nobody sees it except for her.

It’s as if the universe is telling her that right beside him is where she belongs. Nobody else has claimed that spot, after all, and it’s the only place that feels so right to her.

She feels as if it was always waiting for her, long before twelve o’clock, long before they had even met.

August 7, 2016

“Do you know how embarrassing it is?”

Y/n was sat on her kitchen counter in nothing but underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, sobbing and shaking upon the granet, her elbows on her bent knees so her arms were covering her mascara-run face — too ashamed to show herself to the world that’ll only find its way to break her down again.

Cooper was sitting on the barstool just three feet in front of her, his dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck, his tie loose to his collarbones, sleeves rolled up against his elbows, eyes defeated yet raging with resentment.

She had never seen him quite like that — so vengeful and so unforgiving. She was so unloved, she saw it in everything he did that night — from telling her to shut up in front of his friends, to making her take a taxi home because nobody could stand the sound of her voice anymore.

The love of her life didn’t even want to take her home, and that was all she needed to know that everything she had ever held onto was everything that needed to be let go of.

“Darling… it has got to stop at some point. I know it’s because you’re nervous but you don’t do anything to change it.”

But why does she have to have to?

That’s all she wanted to know — all she wanted to scream at him at that moment in time but god forbid she had anything to say to him anymore.

And how many more times did she have to keep wasting her breath trying to convince him that she couldn’t help it no matter how hard she tried — the constant talking, the rambling, the scrambling to tell stories, the muttering in awkward silences.

It was her way of calming down her nerves in new environments she could never seem to adapt to — her way of dealing with groups of unfamiliar faces, her way of coping with the rest of the world.

And it seemed as though no matter where she went, there was no place for her. She constantly felt stuck in someone’s way, felt like she was always blocking the entrance, and no matter how many times she tried to find a corner to shelter herself in, there were people still climbing over her to go their own way, and she was always left behind, beaten to the ground.

She just wanted to catch up so badly, but only did it make her fall backwards, time after time again. Yet she still did it, time after time again.

So, she just kept crying, too embarrassed to look at him, too afraid to speak, too hurt to know that she could never forgive him no matter how hard she tried.

“Your habits become a problem when they negatively affect everybody else around you. Y/n, you barely have friends, you can’t make friends with mine, all because you don’t let anybody else talk.”

And what an over-exaggeration. Of course she let other people have a chance to respond and have side conversations… just maybe not as often as they would have liked. But it wasn’t extreme enough where the only conversations she carried were one-sided — not that she had noticed.

“I used to love you for it but lately it’s just been — it’s been too much. I can hardly stand it anymore. Don’t know how to say it without making you cry.”

There was no way to.

The babbling, the rambling, the talking… it was all in her nature. If somebody didn’t like it, then they didn’t like her, and it was just as simple as that.

There was no way around it — there was no magic serum, no prescription drug, no cure for over-talking. And there were days, endless days, that she felt cursed, because why is the one thing that’s so wrong about her the one thing she can’t fix?

But again, why would she have to?

“So — so all the times you kissed me whenever I started going on tangents wasn’t because you loved me or because you wanted to, it was because you didn’t know how else to shut me up, right? You didn’t want to have to hear me anymore. Didn’t even want to hear me cry.”

He didn’t have to answer her because she already knew the answer herself. What she once thought was manifested from pure love and endearment was just as toxic and conniving as everything else she’d ever put her hands on.

Why couldn’t she just be enough?

She refuses to move her hands away from her face.

“You never loved me.” Y/n whispered beneath the sobs that shook through her already broken soul. “That’s the worst part.”

Harry doesn’t like being alone.

He never has, but he’d been able to tolerate it through the years. He didn’t have much of a choice — forced to shove the feeling down to the very depth of his core and carry it around with him until it faded to a subtle numbness that pricked against his chest with every move he made.

Loneliness now, though, has taken on an entirely different meaning that Harry can’t tolerate no matter how hard he tries. Because now, loneliness means Y/n isn’t beside him, and he despises being away from her.

There’s something about her that’s unexplainably addicting, like a drug he can’t get enough of even when it’s soaking in his veins and taking over every one of his senses — one that gives him withdrawals that make him so far gone he can barely stand on his own two feet.

She’s unlike anybody he’s ever met.

Because though she seems to put herself out for the world to see, there is so much she keeps hidden. He can see it in her eyes — all the darkness and pain that’s been seeped within them, and nobody else has ever seemed to notice, because nobody else seems to care.

But he does. God, how much does he care, how much does he want to curse every person in existence for not seeing how deserving she is to be happy. It’s all she deserves.

And he’s convinced that the universe created her solely for him, because everyday when the clock strikes twelve and lunch hour begins, he’s reminded that she doesn’t choose anybody else — it reminds him that she chooses him, every single day, in a room full of people that are so much more approachable.

She keeps choosing him because somewhere deep down, he makes her happy. And he’ll keep choosing her, too, long after twelve o’clock.

Harry’s having a bad day.

Since the moment he blinked his eyes open, every little thing has been driving him absolutely mad — from somebody honking their horn at another driver (that wasn’t even him), to the way Jeremy asked him to change one of the slides for his upcoming presentation (even though he told him as nicely as he possibly could), everything was getting under his skin and onto his nerves like a newborn leech.

And what’s even worse is that Y/n is aggravating him when normally, he dreads the final minutes of lunch hour because it means they’re going to have to part ways and only see each other at team meetings until it’s time for them to go home.

They’ve been friends for two years and not once has Y/n ever made his leg bounce with impatience, or had him fiddle with his glasses out of anxiousness, or made his jaw clench with annoyance, until today.

It’s only twenty minutes past twelve and Harry is begging for death.

“You see, I didn’t know it at the time, though! I was twelve and the chaperones weren’t around to watch what I was doing. I saw the duck come towards me and for some reason, I really wanted to know what its beak felt like. I didn’t think it would actually bite me, I wasn’t food!”

And normally, he’d nod his head or give her some sort of indication that he was paying attention to her because he always was, but he hasn’t even so much as lifted his head from above his food since she started talking.

“And it hurt! Proper cried and screamed because it was so much worse than I thought it would be. Ducks are evil little things. I remember one time me and my mum were at the park having a picnic when a duck came flying by and almost hitting her right in the —”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

Silence.

He shouldn’t be talking to her like this, he knows that, but right now, he can’t seem to dwell on the consequences that’ll surely come after this. This headspace he’s in is so unforgiving, it somehow convinces him that Y/n never talking to him again is exactly what he wants, when it’s so far from it.

This bitterness that’s consuming him is only swallowing him down for today, it’s temporary, he knows this because it’s happened to him before. It makes him act instinctively and selfishly, like he’d tear limb from limb if he doesn’t get what he wants in that very moment in time.

He doesn’t care who he hurts in the process, even if who he hurts is the only person he cares about.

“W — what?”

She knows what she heard, she’s heard it so many times before, she just can’t believe Harry was the one who said it.

Never, in a million years, would she have believed he would ever be the person to make her feel this way — so heartbroken, so lost, so confused. He’s always been so different with her, in ways she couldn’t explain, and it always made her feel worthy of something so good.

It never crossed her mind that he’d betray her like this, she never saw that in him — she never saw him being angry at her, or resenting her, or disliking her until this very moment, as he’s staring right through her, like she doesn’t even exist.

“Would appreciate it if you left me alone for today.”

There’s a thud in her chest that makes her blood run cold and her insides freeze with sadness. And there’s this look on her face that makes Harry want to take it all back, and he almost does, but he doesn’t.

She’s lived twenty four years of misery, yet never has she felt so hurt, because never has she loved so hard.

“Oh, o — okay.” She mutters with a faltered voice, nodding her head through unshed tears.

There’s forty minutes left of lunch hour and the only friend she has doesn’t even want her here. She has nowhere else to go.

But she leaves anyway.

Y/n locks herself in her room that night.

It’s a bad habit she made out of herself when she was a teenager — where she’d lock herself up, shut herself out from the world, and keep herself quiet until she’s forced to leave her house again.

She keeps the lights off and sits in the corner in silence, keeping herself awake by repeating self-loathing mantras in her head — like a form of punishment only she is deserving of.

She cries, but that’s all she allows herself to do.

Harry doesn’t sleep that night.

He lays in the dark and just stares up at the ceiling, wondering how he let himself do what he’s done.

Y/n means everything to him, whether she knows it or not, she’s the only thing he has. There’s nothing left in this world for him to hold onto, except for her, and he still managed to let her go.

Tomorrow, he wants to tell her he loves her, because he does. But that’s just another form of selfishness he can’t put onto her again.

He won’t allow himself to, though that’s all he wants to do.

Y/n doesn’t show up for lunch hour the next day.

And Harry’s never felt so alone.

Harry sees her three hours later organizing files in Jeremy’s office.

Suddenly, his hands are slicked with sweat and his fingers shake with nervousness. He feels as if the world has stopped turning because what he chooses to say determines whether or not he could ever have her the way he so desperately needs her.

He wipes his palms against his pants, gathering his breath and his thoughts before he slowly creeps himself up behind her — terrified that if he makes one wrong move, she’ll walk away from him again.

He really wouldn’t be able to survive it if she did.

“Y/n.” Harry greets her hesitantly, knowing in the pit of his stomach that what he’s done was so much worse than he thought because she doesn’t even acknowledge him — doesn’t even look at him — when that’s all she ever used to do. “Can I have a word with you?”

Still, she doesn’t look up at him. She doesn’t want to. She doesn’t even want him looking at her and she would tell him that if she were still talking to him, but she isn’t. She’s just going to keep biting her tongue until it falls off and she has no choice but to swallow it down whole.

Harry’s heart breaks when all he’s met with is her silence.

This isn’t her, and this isn’t what he wants.

His hand reaches down to her wrist, holding onto it so lightly, Y/n almost doesn’t feel it. Her movements halt.

He’s never touched her before.

“Please.”

Her eyes follow the path to where they’re connected, watching as Harry’s thumb traces the smallest of circles against her skin. And as she stares down so pathetically, she feels Harry’s eyes casted exactly where hers are, too, wondering when he’s going to have to let go.

And though his touch is mending the broken bones within her, his words cut like knives, and she’s still bleeding out so helplessly.

She rips her wrist out of his grasp, her eyes now just as far away from him as before. It happened so fast, Harry wonders if he imagined the whole thing.

“Busy.”

He waits for her to say something else — waits for her to curse him out, to yell and scream and rant to him about how much she hates every last bit of him because anything is better than this. But again, he’s left with nothing.

His world falls apart.

“One word? That’s all you give me?”

Her eyes flood with tears.

“That’s all you asked for.”

He slams the side of his fist against the shelf in defeat, so incredibly angry with himself that he can hardly stand on his own two feet without wanting to beat himself down. She’s crying and avoiding him like he’s the last person she ever wants to see, and the worst part is that he can’t even blame her for it.

He has half the mind to walk away and never look back because she doesn’t deserve this; wants to spare her the heartache and let her find somebody that is so much better than he is — somebody who can look at her like they want her to be there, somebody who can smile at her, somebody who can laugh with her.

He can’t give her any of that because that’s not the kind of guy he is, but he doesn’t have that kind of heart. He can’t let her go because deep down he knows she loves him, too, and what would it make him if he were to destroy something so beautiful before it’s even started?

“Look, if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. All I’m asking is that you listen to me, please. Y/n, you know I didn’t mean it.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I like you so much.”

Y/n looks back at him now, her eyes still as wet and distant as before, and it tears him apart.

She looks into his eyes because all of her answers are there — they always are — and she can tell this has taken a toll on him the same way it has her. Even with his voice being so stagnant, and his face being so cold, he’s falling apart.

She wishes that was enough.

She looks away from him again.

And Harry’s at a loss. He doesn’t know what else to do to convince her how much he means it — how much he really is sorry and how badly he wants her. He’s so bad with words and so bad with expressing himself that he doesn’t know what he can and can’t do to get her to forgive him.

So, he does the only thing that feels right.

He grabs a hold of her arm and spins her around until her chest is against his, and before she has the chance to say anything to him, and before he can talk himself out of it, he kisses her.

His hands are intertwined with hers as he gives her everything he has. He’s absolutely relentless but it’s nothing short of passionate and desperate, longing for her even when she’s right up against him.

It’s better than either of them could have ever expected it to be.

He’s the first to pull away, and Y/n is let completely and utterly lovestruck.

“You can take it back!”

Harry looks up from his notebook with furrowed eyebrows and curious eyes, watching as Y/n slams the door shut behind her before standing at the head of the table with her arms fisted at her sides, nervously biting on her bottom lip and tapping her foot with anticipation — all the while keeping her composure as firm and collected as possible.

“Pardon?”

“The kiss.”

She waits for him to say something about it — anything about it — maybe even scoff or gag a little at the reminder. But alas, he gives her nothing but empty stares and emotionless lips.

“You can take it back, if you want to. I promise, it won’t hurt my feelings.”

And of course, she’s lying.

It would really break her heart in two if Harry felt that what happened yesterday was a mistake — that the feelings only fit in that one particular scene, that he was just caught up in the moment and didn’t know how else to apologize.

She had been waiting a lifetime for that sort of magic to be casted onto her — the kind of magic that has her feeling like she’s been granted everything she has ever wanted and more than she could ever ask for. And it feels so surreal that he kissed her that her head keeps swooning with hopes and dreams of everything that could possibly lay between them.

But if he isn’t laying in bed, desperately wishing for the same things she is, she needs to know before it’s too late.

“Oh.” Harry purses his lips, looking back down at his notebook as if she hadn’t said anything at all. “No, thank you.”

Y/n’s mouth drops ever so slightly before she shuts it closed again, flaring her nose as she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She had been preparing everything she was going to say for every possible scenario, yet here she is, racking her brain trying to come up with how to respond to such an ambiguous yet lucid answer.

And now he won’t even look at her, his undivided attention set upon the pen and paper below him as he writes the ideas for his next project, like it was the most casual and most nonchalant conversation he had ever been in.

“Was that all, love?”

Y/n blinks at him and tilts her head to the side, dazed in her confusion and lost at his choice of words.

Love. He called me love. He’s never called me that before.

But when his eyes sneak back up to hers, she shakes her head as if to pull herself together. She didn’t sacrifice last night’s sleep just to get lost in those very eyes — she needs to know where he stands with her before she takes another leap of faith, though all she wants to do is jump right into the same arms that were holding her so closely yesterday.

“I’m giving you a chance to opt out.”

Harry feels his chest fall to the pit of his stomach.

He straightens himself up upon the chair, his shoulders tensing and his fingers stiffening around his pen, feeling uneasy because does she want him to opt out? Does she want him to take back the kiss that’s been lingering on his lips for far too long now?

And he just looks at her, desperate for her to tell him how badly she wants him to do it again — tell him how badly her lips are aching without the feel of his and how badly she wants him to kiss at them until they’re numb and no longer her own, because he’d do it. He’d do it in a heartbeat if she asked with those pretty eyes of hers, with that stutter and that stumble over her words that never fail to make his heart give out.

And if that just becomes another long-lost dream in his never-ending curse of a life, it will do him in deeper than any of the trenches that have been dug out from within him — deeper than any cut anybody’s ever made on him because right now, in this moment in his life, she’s all he has.

“This is the one and only time I will let you break this off without me babbling about how perfect we could be together and how serious I am about you. Because it’s not going to stop — this rambling thing that I do — and I just want you to know that that’s what makes me who I am and it’s not going to stop for you or for anybody else. And so if it annoys you, if it bothers you and embarrasses you, I’m giving you the chance to leave before either of us get hurt and we can pretend nothing’s ever happened between us.”

She thinks we’d be perfect together.

That’s all his brain can process despite everything else that came with it — all that’s stuck in his brain and tightening at his chest.

He thinks they would be, too, when he really thinks about it. She gets lost in stories he lives so vicariously through, and he gets lost in feelings she lives so curiously in — submerging herself between the lines, reading what lies so dangerously beneath him. And nothing sounds better to him than spending every second of his day relishing in that feeling of intimacy they had both been deprived of for so long.

So how dare he? How dare he make her feel so insecure, so unworthy and so undeserving, to be standing here defending everything that makes her who she is when he’s so captivated by it all? And why is it so fucking hard for him to just tell her?

He feels the corners of his lips dip slightly to his chin, but that’s all he can manage to do. He hopes she can see it, and he hopes that it’s enough.

“I’d rather not.”

She frowns herself, looking down to her feet, feeling slightly ashamed for putting him on the spot like this. But what else was she to do? She couldn’t risk getting her heart beaten and bruised because of her stupid mouth all over again.

“But I’ve annoyed you before.” Y/n mutters between a pout, her foot kicking softly at the ground, wishing she didn’t let his words cut her as deeply as they did. “And like I said, it’s not going to stop. I’m still going to want to be around you and talk to you and keep you company and I don’t know what I would do if later down the line you decide you’ve heard enough of me and can’t handle the way I deal with my feelings anymore.”

But he wants all of that, too, more than he’s wanted anything else in his entire life. He wants her next to him during lunch hour talking about her days and her nights, wants her midnight pillow talks, wants her to be the only company in his cold and vacant home.

He just wants her to see it, wants her to feel it, just as much as he does.

“That was different.” He tries to sound more convincing for her sake, but he fails so miserably it hurts.

Talking to you is like talking to a wall — that’s all he can hear beneath his words and it makes him want to give up on the conversation because he’s afraid it’ll only bring her down more, but he can’t leave her like this. Besides, it’s Y/n. And for reasons so unknown, she understands him.

“I wasn’t aware of your importance.”

“My importance?” She scrunches her nose, squinting her eyes. “My importance to what?”

“To me.”

Y/n’s eyes widen in disbelief and she sucks in a breath so deep, it settles in her chest and she swears her heart is on the verge of flatlining.

“To you, right. To you. Because I’m — because I’m important to you...” she mumbles mainly to herself, so quietly and so breathlessly before it dies down on her tongue — the sight of Harry taking off his glasses and throwing them onto the table making her knees buckle and head spin with emotions she’s never felt before.

He’s got this glimmer in his eye and a faint smile painted on his lips and she really can’t breathe, now, as he makes his way towards her.

This is the first time she has ever seen him smile, and though it is as soft and small as any other she’s ever seen — so soft and small, she would have missed it if it were on anybody else — she’s the reason it’s there, and it’s a sight she wouldn’t dare take her eyes off of.

He stands before her now, his fingers reaching up to cup the blush of her cheeks, eyes following the shapes he traces with his thumb against her skin. And though his smile has faded to nothing and he looks as serious as ever before, he doesn’t look away from her for even a second.

And that’s enough.

“Is there anything else you’d like to say?”

She flutters her eyes closed upon his words, knowing this moment is going to end all too soon, and she doesn’t have the heart to say goodbye to it yet.

She wants to remember this feeling for when she has to.

“No, no. That was all.”

He ducks his head and nudges his nose gently against hers before pulling away to pull her back into reality, just for a moment — just long enough for him to know that she isn’t holding herself back from him.

“And I’ve put your worries to rest?”

Oh, how her worries have subsided to nothing but a stomach full of butterflies and a chest of pulled heartstrings.

Nobody has ever made her so sure of anything, the way Harry makes her so sure of him.

“Yeah, I — you make me feel really good, Harry. Can’t explain it. Can’t even put it into words, really. Just, really, really good.”

He makes her feel loved.

And she wants to tell him that, she does, but that word — loved — it’s the same word he called her not just five minutes ago, but it’s so much more than that. Maybe he doesn’t love her, she surely doesn’t expect that from him just yet, but how is she ever going to explain that her feeling of feeling loved is what other people — normal people, she supposes — would consider feeling liked?

And as Y/n’s practically melting between his palms, Harry is trying so hard to understand just how he’s ended up here, being this close to her, when he always believed he’d go his whole life not being this close to anybody.

His eyes bore into hers just to reassure himself that it’s okay — that she’s okay and that they’re okay and that now, it’s okay for him to do the one thing he’s been dreaming about doing since yesterday. And when she smiles at him, a real and genuine smile, he nods.

And he leans in for their second kiss, his thumbs rubbing along her cheeks, humming into her mouth because his own has been watering for a chance to do this again. And it’s perfect. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this way about anything.

And Y/n is on cloud nine. She could really kiss him all day every day and still feel like she hasn’t missed a thing. This — this feeling, this moment, this person — is everything she’s ever wanted and everything she will always need. It’s irreplaceably and undeniably hers, and she’ll do anything to keep it for as long as she lives.

Her hands are on his neck, pulling him further into her because she can’t get enough of him and nothing else matters besides them meeting in the break room, kissing behind closed doors like teenagers who haven’t learned how to keep their hands to themselves.

The only thing that breaks them from their moment is the sound of the copy room door being slammed in the hallway, their breaths heavy and lips red and wet from each other’s.

“Have dinner with me tonight.” Harry suggests as his fingers tuck loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Wherever you want.”

And Y/n’s unsure as to whether it’s the sleepless night sneaking up on her or if it’s the aftermath of Harry kissing her senseless, but she can’t think of a single thing she could possibly want for dinner when she just wants to be with him. He could take her to the most run-down restaurant in this city and she would still feel as though she were on the highest of hilltops, overlooking the prettiest view, all because of him.

“I don’t — I don’t care, really. It wouldn’t even really matter, anyways, just — just as long as you’re with me. Don’t even have to have dinner, if you don’t want to. Could do anything you’d like.”

She’s blushing and looking down at her feet, and Harry hates when she hides herself like this, hates that she puts herself under to put him first when she deserves to be the first and the only — he has a sick and twisted feeling she’s never been any of those things to anybody.

“Y/n.” His tone is slow and stern as his head ducks down so her can eyes can meet his. “Wherever you want.”

And how could she say no to those eyes — though always so dark, so void, are also so gentle and so kind, so deep and so open? The light in them changes just ever so slightly whenever he looks at her, and she wouldn’t dream of ever taking that away from him.

“I want what you have for lunch on Tuesdays.”

His thumb brushes against the edge of her jawline.

“It’s homemade. I can pick you up around seven, eat dinner at mine.”

Her fingers wrap around his wrist absentmindedly, holding his hand so that it stays pressed against the back of her head.

“No, Harry, that’s not — that’s too much work for you. Let me at least drive and meet you at your flat, yeah? I can’t let you do that.”

She really is just the cutest, sweetest, most considerate person he’s ever met, and the most beautiful he’s ever laid eyes on. And if she wasn’t all of those things, he would let her drive and meet him at his flat for dinner, but she is, and what kind of date would it be if Harry didn’t come knocking on her front door, holding out his hand, and leading the night away?

She deserves to have a night that’s just for her. And surely, Harry wants this date just as much as she does, but it’s not about him, because as long as she’s beside him, he doesn’t have a care in the world what he has to do to get her there.

“Y/n.” His voice is as low and stern as before. “I’m picking you up at seven.”

Y/n looks at him for a moment, studying him, wondering how she’s ended up here — the only place she has ever wanted to be. She lets out a breathy chuckle, her cheeks flushed, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“I’ll see you at seven, then.”

His eyes light up.

And they kiss.

It’s 6:35 when Harry actually comes to pick Y/n up, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to see her so badly, and he couldn’t just sit on his sofa trying to justify waiting to be with her again. He would have been more than willing to watch her finish getting ready, or just stand at the other side of her door, trying to convince her to let him in because she’s going to look beautiful no matter what.

He doesn’t even care if he comes off as desperate, because he is.

And Y/n is, too, because of course she was ready by 6:35. Since the second she got home, she was putting herself together as best she could, though refusing to try as hard as she normally would with anybody else because for whatever reason, Harry likes her for her — likes her in her work clothes with her hair up, without makeup on, first thing in the morning — and she wouldn’t ever dream of jeopardizing that.

And Y/n is left speechless as she opens her front door, because not only does Harry look as handsome and fit as ever, but he’s also holding the prettiest bouquet of flowers she’s ever seen.

“Harry, I — wow.”

He holds them out to her, failing to mention anything about them, just handing them to her like it’s something so normal and so casual, when in reality, the gesture is anything but.

Out of all the years she’s lived, nobody’s ever given her a reason to believe she’s been thought about once out of sight. Even when she was with Cooper — her one and only boyfriend — he’d never bought her flower arrangements or spontaneous gifts whenever they were apart, even on the days he should have, like she only existed when it was convenient for him.

This is just her first date with Harry and she’s never felt more alive. She lives in his mind even when she’s blocks away — nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be heard.

She takes the bouquet from his hands, looking down at what must have been two dozen flowers, wrapped all together by a rubber band and light purple plastic wrap.

“Lilies.” She marvels at him, eyes wide with an open-mouthed smile, like she couldn’t believe the sight of them. “These are my absolute favorites.”

He nods, his hands locked behind his back, lips pursed and body rocking from heel to toe. “I know.”

She tilts her head at him.

“You told me a couple months ago during lunch hour.”

And again, she’s left speechless.

She can’t even remember telling him about her love for lilies, yet here he is, recalling all these small details about herself she’s said in passing. Even in the moments he wasn’t the most fond of her, even in the moments he could hardly stand her company, he was paying attention to her. He was listening to her, so much so that her words have stuck with him despite all the days that have passed.

And it’s no wonder she’s fallen so quickly under his spell — it was made just for her. Nobody else could ever see what he sees in her, and nobody else could ever see what she sees in him, and that’s exactly how they’ve ended up here — both standing on her doorstep, refusing to take their eyes off each other, anxious to spend the rest of their night together, hoping it’s forever.

“I love them, Harry, thank you.” She blushes, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m just going to put these in a vase real quick. You can come in, if you’d like. Or you can stay out here, it doesn't matter.”

He follows her into the flat, which looks and smells exactly how he imagined it would. It feels just as warm as she does and smells like a mix of lavender and honey, just as intoxicating as her.

And though there are so many things he wants to see — the books she collects beside her living room couch, the movies scattered alongside her DVD player, and the pictures hung up on her walls — all he can focus on is the woman that’s stolen his heart so effortlessly.

He leans himself against the wall of her kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, watching as she pours the water and powder into the vase, stirring it together gently between her hands. And as she unwraps and unties the flowers, Harry wishes they could live for as long as they do.

This is the view he wants forever — Y/n putting flowers he’s gotten her in clear vases, surrounded by her favorite things, sharing comfortable silences she’d feel so nervous in if it were with anybody else.

She is his, he decides, and he is helplessly hers.

“Didn’t tell you when I first saw you but, you look stunning.”

She looks over at him, her eyes gleaming and lips tugged upward at his words.

“Yeah?”

His lips tug upward, too, in the same way they did earlier today in the break room, and it amazes her how something so small could mean so much to her.

“Yeah.” He breathes out, his eyes soaking her all in, still convinced she’s a dream he hasn’t woken up from. “You always do.”

She blushes, reaching forward to place the vase onto the windowsill above her sink. She can feel his eyes on her still, refusing to break away from her, and it makes her feel like the only woman in the world. And maybe she is — at the very least, the only woman in Harry’s.

She walks over to where he stands so irresistibly — so tall and so handsome, with a chest she so desperately wants to make a home out of and kiss at until she has nothing left but the burning of his skin on her own.

And as she stands before him, neither of them have anything to say because in times like these, their breaths are taken away and all they can process is how close they are to each other.

Her hands graze over his chest ever so slightly, hesitant to touch him the way she’s been shamefully aching to, afraid to push him away. But she can hear his breath hitch in his throat and can see his pecs tighten beneath her fingertips, and she lets out an uneven breath. He likes it.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.” She whispers, her breath fanning his neck and she swears she can see his eyes fighting to stay open.

Her hands graze up to the dip of his collarbones, her thumbs running along the sides of his throat. And to give her more access, Harry dips his head back, overstimulated by the feeling of it all.

“To touch me?”

His voice is strained and croaked, borderline delirious. And though his eyes are fluttering closed as her fingers now run along the shape of his shoulders and up the sides of his neck, dancing along his jawline, he can see her bite down on her bottom lip and it makes his heart hurt, in the best way possible.

Her eyes gleam as her fingers twist around the chain on his neck.

“It’s been all I could think about since I met you.”

His head falls back against the wall, the smallest of whimpers falling from his practically drooling mouth.

God, everything about her drives him wild. He has so completely lost himself in her, he can’t even remember his own name. He can’t even remember who he was just twenty seconds ago, much less who he was before he met her, and it’s something so new he can’t grasp the reality of it.

Her hands all over him is a feeling he can’t put into words, and one he certainly can’t hide.

He is falling.

And falling.

It doesn’t take them too long to figure out how similar they are despite their differences, certainly not after downing half a bottle of wine mixed with being so incredibly drunk on each other.

Y/n confided in him about her past — about how her nervous habits have never made her feel like she never had a true sense of belonging because everywhere she went, she was constantly kicked out. She’s had such unfathomable lows that she’d lock herself in her room for weeks on end, forcing herself quiet, because even she was sick of hearing herself.

And as Harry listened to her speak about all the cruel, heartless things that have been said to her, he couldn’t help but feel understood despite the feeling of guilt throbbing in his gut, for he had done what everybody else did not just one day ago.

Harry confided in her, too, about how he had always been left out because he always managed to bring down everybody else’s mood. He told her things he hadn’t told anybody else because he had nobody else to tell them to — told her about all the drugs he’s taken and all the other toxic habits he’d pursued in a poor, desperate attempt to become emotional.

Then, they talked about their parents — a conversation so barren and so untouched, it was almost impossible to talk about.

Y/n grew up with parents who didn’t understand her, because who could? Even when she was little, barely forming an identity and her only concept of friendship being imaginary ones, her parents would tell her that she was embarrassing herself. She’ll always remember the look on her mother’s face at a New Years Eve party when she said, “I just can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

Harry grew up with absent parents — absent in a sense that they were around, just never really there. His parents hardly acknowledged him, hardly ever spoke to him, and when they did it felt so forced, like an obligation they couldn’t find their way out of. He’ll never forget the way they looked at him, like he wasn’t even there, like they didn’t even want him to be.

It makes them question just how strongly the universe works in their favor.

Because what seems to be the first time in her life, Y/n has found something only made for her, a place where nobody else belongs, and it wouldn’t have brought her here if she had kept herself locked away, rotting in her self pity, refusing to let anybody in for all the rest of her years.

And for what seems to be the first time in his life, Harry feels he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be, with the person he’s supposed to be with, and it wouldn’t have brought him here if all the wine, all the blunts, and all the pills did what he so desperately wanted out of them all those years ago.

They had spent their whole lives trying to make something out of themselves when they were always enough, because they were enough for each other, and each other was what they were made for.

“So you’re saying that all this time, we’ve been the exact same person?” Y/n chuckles, because though their conversation was so serious, the mood was still as lighthearted as everything else between them.

“Peculiar habits, a history of toxic behavior, no friends, and shitty parents? Yeah, sounds like it.”

Y/n laughs, shaking her head.

“Here’s to nobody liking us.” Y/n raises her glass.

“Here’s to nobody liking us.” Harry repeats, raising his own. “Except for each other.”

And they clink.

Maybe they shouldn’t have finished that entire bottle of wine to themselves, but they did.

What started off in the kitchen made its way to the living room, both sat beside each other on Harry’s sofa with their heads hung back, Y/n cracking jokes and humming along to the songs on her playlist, and Harry admiring her from the distance.

They both have their last glasses of wine nearly gone, holding them upon their thighs, taking their final sips throughout the hour and with every one they take, they feel closer somehow.

Y/n’s giggling about how Harry won’t stop looking at her, and though she can’t see it between her squinting eyes and their gaze set upon the ceiling wall, he smiles.

He can’t help it — looking at her like it’s the last time he ever will though it’s only the beginning, but he doesn’t ever want to forget the way he feels whenever he does. This is the only good feeling he’s ever had, and even when she’s not in view, he wants to hold onto it ‘til his dying day.

“You’re my favorite person.” Is all he says, his lips fallen. “My only person.”

Y/n finally turns her head over to him, now, so that her eyes are locked on his. And she wishes he can understand the feeling in her heart and the way it’s beating so eroticly, but she doesn’t, because it’s so overwhelming and too much of a good thing for her to make sense of.

Never in her life has she felt so good, yet here she is, feeling even better than that, all because of one person she met nearly two years ago.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He nods, because he understands, and they both look away from each other again.

They’re getting lost in the music and lost in the feeling of the air that surrounds them — so full of unexplainable things that leave them wanting more than they did before, breathing in nothing but longing and desire.

And it isn’t until one of Y/n’s favorite songs comes on that the comfortable silence between them is all but broken, in the most beautiful way possible.

“Green was the color of the grass where I used to read at Centennial Park. I used to think I would meet somebody there.”

Harry stiffens beside her, his fingers instinctively curling tighter around his glass of wine — speechless and breathless as the sound of her voice intoxicates his already drunken state of mind, the room now spinning but only because of her.

“Teal was the color of your shirt when you were sixteen at the yogurt shop you used to work at to make a little money.”

This is heaven, he feels. It has to be because things this beautiful don’t exist in worlds so cruel, in worlds so evil.

Things this beautiful don’t belong here.

Y/n doesn’t belong here. She’s too perfect for her own good — too perfect for a world that refuses to believe in such things, but he does. He does because how can he deny the woman that’s sitting right before him? How can he deny the sound of her voice in a dim lit room, soaked in red wine, existing only to be heard by him?

“Time — curious time — gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. Were there clues I didn’t see? And isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string — tying you to me?”

Y/n’s raising her glass to her lips as the lyrics pause but god, if Harry has to watch her lips touch anything but his, it’s going to be the end of him. And right as her mouth puckers for a taste, Harry reaches his hand out to grab the bowl of the glass, lifting it from her fingers before setting it down upon the coffee table beside them.

She tilts her head at him with furrowed brows and squinted eyes, watching as Harry practically crawls over to her until his thighs are pressed to her knees and his hands are at either side of her waist.

“You’re so pretty.”

Y/n rolls her eyes at him but it hides behind her flushed cheeks and growing smile.

“Harry —”

“Sh.” He shushes her, laying his forehead against the top of her chest, slithering his arms to her lower back, and Y/n giggles. “Keep going.”

So, she does — keeps singing the very words she had been so hopelessly trying to put a face to, to the very man that holds her to them.

And she’s falling.

She feels it now more than ever as he practically buries himself into her, rocking her gently back and forth like she’s some sort of delicacy he wouldn’t dare to break. Everything about it is so intimate, so real, so raw — no boundaries, all walls crumbled down so vulnerably, feeling each other so deeply.

She wonders if he feels it, too.

And oh, does he feel it — her words, his touch, the room fading to nothingness. It is just them — no fears, no doubts, no resentment — together in this moment, becoming one, letting everything else simply slip through their fingertips.

Harry rests his lips upon her collar bone, settling them against her sweltering skin. He can feel her heart beating against his mouth, and it feels right.

“Spend the night with me.”

Y/n stiffens.

She wants to spend the night, she does, more than anything else she could ever want. It’s been her long-lived dream to be cuddled to his chest, feeling him breathe against her, burning in his touch until slumber clouded her senses; waking up beside him in the early morning and hearing that voice so rasped and far gone.

But all of her dreams are so innocent, so pure, and so holy by him, and what if that’s not where his head is? Between all the drinks, all the touching, and all the stolen stares, it could be somewhere so far out of her reach, somewhere so far away from her own, and it’ll absolutely ruin her if that’s all he wants out of her.

Harry must have felt her uneasiness because he’s quick to lift his head from her chest.

“No, no. Not like that, Y/n. I promise. Never even —”

Had sex.

He was so close to saying it to reassure her, but he couldn’t — he couldn’t because if he did, she’d have every reason to believe he was thinking of such things when it was the farthest thought from his mind. Really, he wants her to spend the night because once she leaves, she’s all he’s going to think about and all he’s going to want beside him. He probably would have ended up on her doorstep at two in the morning, dazed and confused, all because he never wants to be away from her.

She is so close, and he wants her so bad.

“Had a girlfriend.”

He settles for something less straightforward but just as truthful and vulnerable. Besides, he figured it’s something she should know because if he ever fucks something up, or fails to do right by her, even if it’s unintentional, maybe she’d understand why.

He’s absolutely terrified that he’s going to be the first one to start a fight and not know how to fix it, or be the first one to make the other cry and not know why. He’s done it before, with Celeste. And though what he has with Y/n is so different and so much more real than what he ever had with her, he still managed to break her heart enough for her to leave him. He wouldn’t blame Y/n if she ever decides to, too.

Y/n looks down at him with eyes full of sorrow. He’s not asking for pity, she knows that, but how he’s gone his whole life without ever being loved, she’ll never understand.

It’s all he deserves.

And she can’t help but feel like she’s the least deserving person to be the first because she knows, down to the very pit of her soul, that Harry isn’t like the others — that Harry wouldn’t kiss her, ask her out on a date, and snuggle himself into her the way he is right now just to get a proper shag — yet she convinced herself that maybe, somewhere so deeply within him, he is that kind of person, and that is so far from fair.

She runs her fingers through his hair.

“I’ll only spend the night under one condition.”

He blinks at her.

“Anything.”

She leans forward to rub her nose against his, a soft smirk set on her lips as she kisses him gently.

She giggles before pulling away, sliding out from underneath him and though the small pout on Harry’s face would send her right back to him, she chooses to stand beside him with an open-palmed hand sticking out before her, her eyes glistening, her lips bitten.

“Dance with me.”

And god, how could he ever say no to that face?

He lets out a breathy chuckle as he hitches his glasses up — the closest thing to a laugh Yn has ever heard out of him, and it makes her want to cry. And he shakes his head softly before grabbing onto her hand, letting her lift him from the sofa.

“You drive me wild.”

She hums, lifting his hand up to her lips.

She guides him behind the coffee table, grasping both of his hands in hers, and though she fully intends on pulling him to her and leading the rest of the way, he beats her to it.

He’s got her pressed up against him, one hand hooked to her lower back and the other holding hers between their shoulders, swaying them side to side as they dance together in slow circles.

They’re at peace. Together, they can do the most cliche of things — make a dance floor out of a living room, make a night out of a date — and not feel anything but pure, genuine happiness out of it.

They don’t need anything or anyone outside of each other, and that’s what makes it all the better.

“Hm…” Y/n hums, resting the side of her cheek against his chest. She feels at home like this. “Quite the dancer, you are.”

His thumb rubs at her wrist, and he shakes his head.

“Only for you.”

Y/n doesn’t go home the following night.

Or the night after that.

This must be the third time Y/n’s set off the smoke alarm.

And in any other circumstance, she probably would have given up and called Harry’s favorite take out to spare him from a night of potential food poisoning, but Harry’s spent the past two weeks telling her how much he wished Thanksgiving was a British holiday, and now that it’s late November and Harry has spent the past three months of their relationship doing all the cooking, she can’t quit him now.

Even as she’s flinging around the oven mitts trying to waft the smoke from the open oven out of her face, she still can’t quit.

The things she does for love, she fucking hates it.

“Pretty, you’re going to burn our flat down.” Harry chuckles from behind her, his hand landing on the small of her back as he rubs gently at it. “Let me take it from here, love. I’ve got it.”

Y/n’s quick to close the oven door back shut and press her back to it, practically flinging herself away from Harry’s touch as she does so. She’s panting and sweating and her hair is an absolute wreck, yet she refuses Harry’s helping hand.

This is his day, and she is his girl, and she just has to do this.

“No, no, mister! Don’t you even think about it! I’ve got it all under control.”

Her lips are pursed for the simple reason that she knows it’s an absolute monstrosity — she’s burnt two rounds of yams, somehow turned mashed potatoes into soup, and overcooked the green bean casserole to a cripst — but at least it’s all been made with love.

And she assumes Harry doesn’t believe her, either, because he’s trying his absolute hardest to not laugh at her, but that’s exactly what he’s doing.

“Pretty,” Harry laughs, facepalming himself before his hand cups around his mouth to try to stifle the sounds. “You — you closed the oven door again and it’s —”

“Fuck!”

She turns herself around before ripping the oven back open, coughing and groaning as a cloud of smoke hits her face for the millionth time tonight before reaching in to grab yet another round of burnt yams.

She slams it onto the stove, ripping her oven mitts off and throwing them onto the counter beside her.

Harry feels bad, he does, because she’s been slaving away in their kitchen for the past five hours and she’s the farthest from satisfied she could possibly be, but he can’t deny that he loves seeing her like this — so passionate, all cute and grumpy just to make him happy.

Oh, how he loves her so, even when she burns his beloved yams.

He kisses the back of her head.

“Looks incredible, baby. Don’t need anything else than what you’ve got.” His lips move to her cheek. “Let me set the table while you put everything in dishes, yeah? Starving.”

He lights two pumpkin spice candles upon the table, pouring two glasses of their favorite wine, and setting down two plates for each of them because they haven’t eaten all day in preparation for their dinner, and they’re both at their wits end.

Y/n sets dinner up buffet style along the kitchen island — the roasted young turkey set in the middle surrounded by bowls of corn, mashed potatoes, stuffing, macaroni and cheese, and dinner rolls.

Though she’s far from being a good cook, she does feel slightly better when she sees it all set up in autumn-colored dish sets. It could have been a lot worse, it really could have been a lot worse.

And it’s the look on Harry’s face that makes the past five hours of hell so incredibly worth it.

His fists are on the kitchen table, his body leaning forward as his eyes marvel at the sight in front of him. Autumn has always been his favorite season, and he’s always been so fond of the concept of Thanksgiving — spending time with his loved ones, reminiscing all his favorite memories throughout the year, delving into his favorite foods.

He’d contemplated making a Thanksgiving of his own for the past couple years, but whenever it came down to it, he realized he didn’t have much to be thankful for, and he didn’t have any memories to look back on. So, he never did.

But now, he has so much to be thankful for — so many unforgettable memories, a lifetime of happiness, and a loved one to finally celebrate with — all of which are standing right before him.

Nobody else in the world would ever do the things she does for him. She is one and a million, his little miracle, and the absolute light of his life.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”

She shrugs, a teasing grin playing on her lips.

“Once or twice.”

She loads their plates up with everything she made — giving Harry extra stuffing, of course — before she makes her way back to the kitchen table, sitting across from the very man she’s thankful for this year.

She didn’t realize how good it would feel — to spend a holiday with Harry, even though it’s illegitimate — but it’s warm and homely and everything else in between. It’s no wonder she falls more in love with him everyday, and no wonder she wants to spend all of her days exactly where they are now, until they’re old and grumpy and can hardly stand the sight of each other anymore.

Y/n lifts up her wine glass.

“This year, I’m thankful for being yours and only yours. I’m nothing without you.”

Harry lifts up his wine glass.

“This year, I’m thankful for you and your love. You’re everything to me.”

They clink, they eat, they kiss, and they do it all over again.

“You know, I don’t think guys are meant to do this kind of stuff.”

Y/n’s sitting across from Harry on their queen-sized bed, their legs crossed Indian style as Harry’s hand is spread out before her, Y/n grasping onto his fingers with her own as she paints a thin layer of black nailpolish onto his nails.

It didn’t take Y/n much convincing to get Harry in this position. She knows full well that all she has to do is pout and cross her arms for him to give her what she wants. And normally, she doesn’t use his weaknesses against him — she doesn’t think it’s right, and he’d never do it to her — but this is something so harmless that she gave herself a free pass.

Plus, she knows he’d look hot with his nails painted black.

“Shut up, H.” She giggles, shaking her head. “They’ll look really good, I promise. Besides, it could be our little secret.”

He can’t lie, it does feel nice to be pampered like this. Her hands are soft and it tickles when she goes finger-to-finger, and it’s a damn good excuse to touch her and look at her for minutes on end. She’s got her eyebrows pinched together as she moves his fingers around, trying to get into every edge and crevice, and he can see it in her eyes how much she’s truly enjoying herself right now.

His eyes take a peek at his nails and it’s not nearly as bad as he thought it was going to be. They make him feel… different, but in a way that can only be described as holding a certain power he never knew he had.

Guys normally don’t do this kind of stuff, but he is, and he looks damn good while doing it.

And as Y/n takes both of his hands out to her and starts to blow on them, his eyes flutter with amusement. Maybe, just maybe, he’d let her do this again.

She pokes one of her nails into his.

“They should be dry now.”

And though his nails are finished, Y/n still hasn’t let go of his hands, and her eyes haven’t left his fingers. Instead, she’s marveling over them — eyes gleaming, bottom lip tucked between her teeth, her digits twisting at his rings.

He smirks at her.

“Look good?”

She nods, lifting one of his hands up higher towards her neck.

“They look really good, H. So good, I —” She doesn’t even let herself finish before she brings his pointer and middle finger up and into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and proper sucking on them like she was born for it.

Harry’s breath gets locked in his throat, his entire demeanor changing as he broadens his shoulders and tenses his chest, his eyes darkening and hawking over every move of her mouth, every swipe of her tongue.

She’s moaning — whimpering and whining like she’s been left starving and he’s her first proper meal in weeks. And nothing’s even started yet.

He reaches his free hand over to her face, petting her cheek with the back of his fingers.

“That’s it, my pretty girl. Just like that.”

She pops them out of her mouth, her lips red and wet and eyes glossy with lust. And Harry watches as she grabs a hold of his wrist and guides his two, sloppy and dripping fingers down her neck and between her breasts, stretching down the collar of her shirt, leaning back for him to have the most perfect view.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, the hand that was once on her cheek reaching over to grope at her thigh. “Is this what I’m going to get every time you paint my nails black? You being such a good girl for me?”

She nods her head, gulping.

“Y — yeah.” She shudders as the hand on her thigh inches up with every passing second. “Told you they’d look so good.”

He chuckles darkly before he reaches his hand up to grab at the base of her throat. It’s her favorite, when he takes her breath away like this, because all she can feel is him.

And right now, he doesn’t want her to feel anything else.

He pushes her down until her back is fully pressed against the mattress, and he crawls until he’s above her on his hands and knees, his fingers still squeezing at her throat.

Such a pretty neck, such a pretty face. And it’s all his.

“Let’s see how good they look all over you, yeah?”

Harry hears something when he passes one of the vacant offices at work.

It’s a bloodcurdling sound, one he hasn’t ever heard before and one he wished he’d never heard at all, but he knows exactly what it is before he sees it.

He could never mistake the sound of his girl — it’s all he ever hears and he’s been around her long enough to know the sound of her very breath. She’s a part of him — he feels her in his bones when she’s close and knows exactly what she’s feeling at every moment in time.

But what he sees is worse than he could have ever imagined.

Y/n’s sobbing something so awful her face is nearly blue, lips trembling and eyes all but swollen shut, shaking and convulsing upon the chair below her.

And Harry doesn’t know what to do.

His brain is working at a million miles an hour and he can’t keep up — doesn’t know left from right, up from down — because all he can feel is the overwhelming sense of heartbreak and his world crumbling out from underneath him.

He practically runs to her — tripping over the legs of office chairs, ramming his hips into the corners of the table, on the verge of collapse with every step he takes. Yet nothing stops him from falling to his knees before her, letting his hands grab a hold of her soaken cheeks, having his thumbs wipe away her endless tears.

“Pretty —”

He can’t even get a word out without wanting to cry, but he’s never done it before. He wouldn’t know how to even if he wanted to, but it’s there — that lump in his throat, that tightening of his chest, that burning in his eyes, it’s all there.

“What happened, baby? Talk to me.”

And though she really didn’t want Harry to see her this way, she can’t help but clasp her shaking fingers around his wrists, holding him there because she doesn’t know what she would do if he were to leave her now.

What happened today — what happened to her — is just further proof that the only person she can trust and the only person she can truly be herself with is Harry. The world is so vengeful and so deceiving towards her, for reasons so unknown, but it’s brought her to the very man kneeling between her thighs, with eyes full of unshed tears, wanting her and loving her even when nobody else does. And if he were to walk away from her now, though she knows he wouldn’t dream of it, she’d lose every last bit of hope she has, and she wouldn’t be able to survive it.

She needs him so badly it hurts.

“Can’t —” She shakes her head as she sniffles back a sob. “Can’t tell you.”

She can’t because she doesn’t want him to see just how bad it can get for her — see how her differences are so obvious to everything and everyone around her. It never ends. It’s been like this for as long as she can remember and she’s so scared and so afraid that if Harry sees it, too, he’d do the very thing that happened to her twenty minutes ago.

But even through her waterfall eyes, she can see just how devastated Harry looks at her words.

“Pretty, you can tell me anything. You know that. Can’t —” He shakes his head, gulping, one of his hands rubbing at the back of her head. “Can’t see you like this and not know how to fix it.”

She pulls her hands away from her tight hold on him so that they can cover her face — too ashamed for the world to see how much it’s broken her down, too humiliated to face somebody so much better than her.

“It — it’s s — so emb — embarrassing!”

She’s hiding from him. Harry hates when she hides from him.

“No, please don’t — please don’t do that.” He practically begs as his hands reach back up to hers, pulling them away from her face and intertwining their fingers together. “It’s me, baby. It’s me. You don’t have to do that with me. Please, don’t do that with me.”

He’s got their hands held on top of her knees, the pads of his thumbs stroking her palms, his lips pressing to the top of her exposed thighs because it’s the only thing he can think of doing right now.

He’s never done this — never had anybody break and shatter before his very eyes, much less somebody he loves — and he is so bad with words and so bad with dealing with his own feelings he wouldn’t even know where to start dealing with hers, but he does know that he can be the most affectionate boyfriend there is towards her, and he hopes that’s a start.

But he doesn’t have a single clue just how good it feels for Y/n to be loved by him when she feels so hated. He is the only person that really, truly matters to her, so to feel him touch her and kiss her when she’s at her absolute lowest, is all she really needs.

Harry notices her breath starting to shallow and her sobs fading to distant cries every time he presses his lips to her skin, and despite how much of a mess he is, it warms his heart to know that they share a love that can overcome anything life decides to throw at them.

He reluctantly lifts his head up to look at her properly, now. His glasses are all fogged and wet but he refuses to take them off the way he normally would with her, because that would require him letting go of her hands, and for both of their sanity, that’s not something he can do right now.

He’s crying.

And though his face is as stone cold and tight as always, his eyes, Y/n notices, are unlike anything she’s ever seen. They’re so undeniably broken, and her heart crumbles into a million pieces just at the sight of it.

She feels it’s all because of her.

“The new recruit, Mason, he —”

She sucks in a breath, trying to find the right words that could possibly explain the amount of damage that he caused her without sounding so weak and pathetic. It wouldn’t have hurt her as badly if it wasn’t something that’s happened to her more and more over the years, beating her down further and further each time, digging deeper and deeper into her already hollowed out chest.

And all Harry can think about is how one name, one person, has made this much of a mess out of her — one that she has to see every single day, that she has to speak to in order to get her work done, that she has to face time and time again.

He’s never hated so much in his life.

“What did he do to you?” He whispers it, afraid that one wrong tone of voice or one wrong word can tear her apart all over again. “Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”

She shakes her head, her eyes casted down at their intertwined hands.

“Laughed at me.”

Her voice is so small and so sad, it’s the most heartbreaking sound Harry has ever heard. And he feels like he failed her.

He knows full well that somebody laughing at her and degrading her, hurts her more than any physical pain she could possibly feel. Even if Mason had touched her, it wouldn’t have made her like this — so afraid, so self-conscious, and so successfully ruined.

“In front of the whole team, just — just kept poking fun at me. Mocking me. Speaking about me as if I wasn’t there. Making fun of my nervous stutter and — and talking over me like, ‘oh, and she keeps going.’ and ‘wow, it just never ends, does it?’ and making everyone laugh at me.”

He should have been there. All he can think about is how he should have been by her side the way any boyfriend should — should have been there to protect her, to keep his eyes on anybody who dared to even look at her the wrong way, to never let her out of his sight.

They’re on the same team and he just should have fucking been there.

“Said he’d take bets with people to see how long it would take me to shut up and I wanted to tell him so badly that the more he says those things the more I ramble because it makes me nervous and I don’t know what else to do but apart of me — apart of me felt like he already knew that and kept going so that I could keep going so that he can keep making a fool out of me.”

Her bottom lip quivers again, and so does his, and Harry has had enough.

He can’t keep seeing her like this because who knows what his love for her could make him do. He’s already broken so many boundaries just from taking one look at her, he can’t even imagine what comes next, or what would come next, if he has to see it again.

With every last bit of courage he has, Harry lets go of her hands and brings his wrist up behind his glasses, wiping away the remnants of his tears, before bringing his hands back down to her knees.

“I’m going to tell Jeremy that you’re not feeling well and that you needed to go home, okay?”

She nods with a pout on her face because god, how badly does she want to crawl into their bed and hibernate beneath the covers until the weekend’s over.

“I’ll help you finish up whatever you need me to, and I’ll meet you back at our flat once I’m done.” He hooks his pointer finger under her chin, kissing away the pout his heart just can’t handle the sight of. “I love you so much. You’re everything to me.”

He didn’t have to tell her, because she already knew.

And it’s so hard for him to leave her like this, but he has to. He has to because she can’t stay here and face the same team that just spit on her name and pretend everything is okay, when everything is so far from it.

He kisses her one last time.

“Go home. I’ll be there soon.”

Harry wasn’t looking for Mason.

He really wasn’t, though every fiber in his body instinctively wanted to hunt him down and brutalize him until he was nothing but a pile of broken bones and battered flesh. His fingers ached for it, but he was more focused on getting home to Y/n so that she didn’t have to be alone — so that he can hold her, and kiss her, and remind her that the only reason the world keeps trying to knock her down is because she’s too perfect to be existing in it.

But as he stands in the copy room to help finish one of Y/n’s major projects, that’s exactly who he sees.

He walks in, whistling the same tune he does every other day, one hand holding a pile of papers and the other slinging the office keys by their lanyard. And as he occupies the empty copy machine next to Harry’s, he lifts his chin up as if to greet him on this truly horrible, unforgiving day.

Harry tenses on sight, his shoulders straightening up and his fingers tightening around the folder that now holds everything he needed to make his way out of here.

But how could he, when Mason is right here?

He takes one last glance at Mason and one last breath before he slowly and steadily makes his way to the door, shutting it closed, before he says anything at all. And really, he doesn’t even fully know what he wants to say, but he does know that he can’t let him get away with the things he’s done, or the words he’s said, or the pain he’s caused to the one and only person Harry cares about.

He’s never been one for confrontation — never been one to project his feelings onto people, or make his problems into somebody else’s — but fuck, it’s Y/n, and his love for her is so different than any other emotion he’s ever felt. It makes him hate, it makes him dangerous, and it makes him something so beyond himself when he sees her the way he did not just three hours ago.

And who would he be if he didn’t do what he knows is right?

“I’m not an emotional guy, Mason.” Harry starts, his fingers twisting and knotting against his palms, trying so hard to keep himself together. But this is too small of a room to carry around so much anger, so much loathing for one person, and the narrowing space between them is building so much tension Harry feels like he’s drowning in all of it. “But I am today.”

Mason’s full attention is on Harry now, fully suspicious of his actions and words, confused as to why the temperature in the room has suddenly fallen below zero.

“I’ve got a lot of feelings… never really learned how to express them. Got a lot of resentment, a lot of anger, a lot of love for my girl.”

Harry takes his glasses off, closing them shut before stuffing them in his jacket pocket.

“Got a lot of all three right now. But if it ever came down to it, I’d do what’s right by Y/n and I wouldn’t think twice about it. Can’t say that for anybody else, except for her.”

And it’s true.

She’s the only thing in existence that can get to this side of him. He’s been so visibly numb his entire life, it didn’t matter how angry he was, or how hurt he was, or how depressed he was, he was so incurably lifeless despite all the vulnerability scrambling inside him. Yet seeing Y/n practically fall apart between his palms set something so deeply within him, he cried alongside her.

And now, he’s rolling up the sleeves of his jacket.

“You understand what I’m saying, correct?”

There’s a pregnant pause in the air, and Harry’s left starving to feast on this poor excuse of a man.

“Look, mate —” Mason finally turns to him, smiling so obnoxiously it makes Harry’s stomach churn. Y/n’s spent the whole day crying and Mason is smiling, laughing, even, like he doesn’t have a care or a clue in the world that he’s broken somebody down so badly — somebody so innocent, somebody so undeserving. “I’m a jokester, alright? Whatever I said to her, it wasn’t personal. I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit — make some jokes, crack some smiles. All innocent here, yeah? It’s all good.”

Out of all the things he could have said, he chose all the wrong words.

And Harry just can’t understand how somebody could be so heartless and cruel and be so completely unaware of it — how someone could turn something already so foul into something so nauseatingly evil and do it with shrugged shoulders and a shit-eating grin.

His palms twitch.

But it isn’t until Mason pats his hand against Harry’s shoulder like he’s the one that’s being let off the hook, that Harry is pushed over the edge.

He should be on his knees, begging for mercy, begging for forgiveness, writhing in fear.

He grabs a hold of Mason’s wrist so tightly his fingers turn numb under the pulse of the very man he so desperately wants to demolish. And before he can even process what’s happening, before he has time to suppress the blackout rage crashing down on him, the fist of his right hand knocks Mason down cold.

It happened so fast, Harry couldn’t even keep up. One second he’s shoulder-to-shoulder with the enemy and the next, he’s towering above him with knuckles covered in blood that isn’t his.

“Man, what the fuck?!” Mason cries from the ground, his hand reaching up toward the side of his already swollen and busted eye, cupping the wound as if to keep the pain from spreading and the blood from dripping. “You just fucking hit me!”

Harry’s panting and shaking and still has yet to finish what he’s started.

“My girlfriend is not a joke. She is not somebody for you to pick on when you want to crack some smiles and she is not a punchline for you to use when you have nothing funny to say.”

The tone of his voice is such a contradiction to the rest of him that if anybody else were watching, they wouldn’t understand why he did what he had just done. Because he’s far from yelling, far from screaming, far from anything other than the way he’d talk in any other circumstance, yet he doesn’t care. For the first time in his life, he just doesn’t care, because what he did was enough.

He rolls his jacket sleeves back down, the side of his wrist wiping the sweat from his top lip.

“You could have done anything else, but you didn’t.”

His bruised and busted hand takes his glasses out of his pocket, unfolding the temples and sliding them back onto the bridge of his nose. And he doesn’t bother taking another look at Mason — doesn’t even want to — before he hooks his fingers around the doorknob.

“If you ever make a joke out of her again, I’ll kill you. That’s it. Just like that. I’ll kill you.”

When Harry gets home that night, he’s got his hands full of all Y/n’s favorite things.

Not only does he have two bags of her favorite take out, but he’s also got a pint of her favorite ice cream, a heated blanket she’d been eyeing whenever they walked down Bond Street, and a bottle of the sweetest wine he could find at the liquor store.

And when she walks to the front door to greet him, wearing nothing but underwear and one of his favorite sweatshirts, he realizes that he couldn’t imagine a single day not coming home to her, or loving her, or protecting her from all the bad that’s been chewing on her and spitting her out.

“What’s all this?” She smiles softly at him, reaching to take some of the bags out of his trembling hands.

“A peace offering.” He whispers so quietly, Y/n almost doesn’t hear it.

He knows what he did was right, but what he doesn’t know is if this will make her see him differently. Because what he did was not the Harry she fell in love with, and maybe it’ll drive her so far away she’ll never have to see him again.

But he’s praying, down to the very depths of himself, that she’ll understand.

“What?” She tilts her head at him, “What do you mean?”

His eyes fall to his knuckles, that are still scarred and busted from before. And as her eyes follow his gaze down upon them, she gasps.

“Baby —”

“I had to do it, Y/n.” He whimpers, his eyes closing. “He made you cry, I had to do it.”

And later that night, after they ate everything Harry had brought home until they could barely get up from the sofa, Y/n kissed at his knuckles, one by one.

He’d get his knuckles bloody every single day if it meant getting his hands full of all the love he has to offer her. He’d cry, and cry, and cry if it meant Y/n doesn’t have to face the world alone. He’d go against himself in every way, in every conceivable notion, just to make her smile the very smile he’s looking at right now.

She is stronger than any drug, stronger than any other pain, any other happiness, any other feeling he has ever felt. Because now, he is so much more than he could ever imagine himself being, and all it took was her.

She is his favorite person, his only person — his little miracle and the absolute light of his life, even after all this time, and he couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

And it was then, he knew.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles preference #emotionless!harry

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

Your New Boss ~ KTH [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 5K

GENRE: Fluffy, Non Idol! CEO AU, Smut, office smut, unprotected sex, fluffy smut,

PAIRING: Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader

As vice president to the company that you worked for people would assume you'd be on time and organised for every day that came at you but today just wasn't your day. Normally you would be up earlier than you had to be, you'd have some coffee and a real breakfast but for some reason, the universe had it out for you today. There was a power outage in your small apartment quarter setting your alarm off and giving you no chance to charge your phone and to top all that off your car was refusing to start for you. As well as having a flat tire at the back, you slammed your head down against the steering wheel wanting nothing more than for this day to end. All you wanted to do was go back to sleep.

"This is just fucking magical!" You screamed sarcastically as you took your black faux leather side bag from the boot of your car before booting the wheel that was flat and storming off towards the closest bus stop. It wouldn't be so bad being late if it wasn't for the new CEO that was taking over the business. You had no idea what his name was but from what you heard he was a hard ass on everyone. The only reason he was even taking over was that your boss was retiring and leaving it to someone he barely knew.

"Here," An elderly man held out an umbrella for you as you reached the bus stop, you thanked him and held it above your head. The uniform you were wearing was suited for the pouring rain that had seemingly come out of nowhere on your walk over, it had been scheduled sun all day which was why you'd worn the skirt and white blouse. Not expecting to get caught in the rain leaving your shirt almost transparent and your legs freezing cold.

"You're late, you're late for a very important date," Your junior worker said as she watched you scramble off the elevator, it had been creaking the whole ride up. You'd think for a million-dollar company they would learn to upgrade their elevator.

"I know, power outage and then my car wouldn't start, then the traffic coming in-" You sat down on your desk chair feeling defeated in yourself. You were freezing in the clothes you were wearing, the one day you don't bring in a spare change of clothes would be today.

"Then to top off the rain." You hissed as your assistant came rushing over making you jump, he was a little jumpy himself but he plugged a small heater in for you before standing in front of you.

"Do you have this morning's business reports?" You nodded over at the bag and he reached for it, telling you how you were the one supposed to give a meeting this morning but instead, the new CEO took over.

"Oh shit, is he nasty? Think he'll fire me?" Panic raced through you at the thought of being fired, you'd worked so hard to get to the vice president you weren't about to lose it because today the Universe hated you.

"I don't think so, he seems rather nice actually. He has the nicest eyes as well you should-"

"Miss Y/l/n, you're requested in the head office." One of the bitchy females told you as she glanced you up and down, she licked her lips before leaving to go and giggle with her friends. You gathered the papers from your assistant who began watching you closely, you slipped on a pair of heels you kept under your desk before heading over to the main office cabin.

"This day can't get any worse, it just can't." You mumbled to yourself as you placed your hand on the door to the main office.

"Come in!" A voice sounded from inside that seemed strangely familiar to you, it was odd. There was something about the voice, you couldn't quite place where you knew it from but there was a feeling in your gut that made you not want to head inside.

"Sir, I would like to formally apologise- ah!" As soon as you walked through the door the papers you'd been carrying began to fly out of your hands and all around the floor of the room. Taehyung looked up from the piece of paper with your name on it and his mouth almost fell open, he had no idea that it would be you.

"Miss Y/l/n?" He called out as he continued to watch you bend down and pick up the pieces of paper that were scattered around his office floor. He sighed to himself and got up to close the window, the breeze had been relaxing to him until now.

"Sorry Sir," You mumbled still not knowing where you knew his voice but as soon as you turned around and came face to face with him you could have died. Coincidentally the day could have gotten worse and it just did. Taehyung's mouth fell open as soon as you locked eyes, it was you.

"Why are you late?" He wasn't going to waste time on pleasantries, he kept up his stern look as he sat down on his chair and looked over your file. There'd never been an incident with you being late before so he saw no reason for you to be late today, even before he was your boss he knew how strict you were on your timekeeping.

"Sir, I was-" You glanced at him, he was still the same person as he was before you broke up only to you he was someone who hurt you badly.

"There was a power outage in my apartment building, then my car wouldn't start and there was traffic. As you can see I've never been late in the past..." You trailed off your own words not wanting to ramble in front of him, there was no reason for you to ramble to someone like him.

"Hmm, how odd that it all happened on the same day. You must have some serious bad luck," He said with a giant smile on his face,

"Hmm, I'm starting to think so." You mumbled while staring at the floor,

"Sorry? What did you say?" You shook your head as you plastered the fakest smile you could manage onto your face,

"Nothing Sir," He hummed before going back to looking through your reports and files that you'd produced.

"For being late this morning I want you to play catch up, you'll be filling out reports all week." He shut the folder and turned to look up at you, his eyes locking with yours.

"Before you leave, I run a strict business here. You'll have to change into something more appropriate for the workday. A white see-through shirt just isn't right for business." Your arms slowly folded over your chest as you grew insecure of him seeing all of this again,

"Yes Sir, won't happen again." He nodded to you and you turned to walk out of the door,

"Another thing," Your hand rested on the door handle of his office door, you turned to glance over your shoulder at him and his demeanour had changed now. His eyes seemed to have softened as he watched you closely.

"I don't want our past to disrupt our working environment-" You scoffed rolling your eyes at how unbelievable he was acting right now. He was still just the same entitled, can do no wrong guy he was before.

"What you mean is, you don't want me running around and tell everyone what you did to me." You snapped coldly as you turned to face him again, it was evident that you weren't going to leave the room just yet if this topic was being brought up for discussion.

"What I did to you?" He put the emphasis on the 'You' as he spoke, he raised himself from his desk and placed his palms flat on the table as his demeanour changed back to someone that was cold and cruel.

"What did I exactly do to you?" Your weight shifted from one foot to the other as you tried to match his cold stare but nothing could compare to his.

"The cheating for starters, all the women you were seeing behind my back but don't worry Sir. I won't let anyone know, I wouldn't want them knowing I snooped so low to date someone like you," He began shaking his head the moment that you told him he was seeing women behind your back,

"It's not true. Why would I ever cheat on you?" He was trying to get across to you that there must have been some kind of misunderstanding but you weren't going to stand here and battle it out with him. It was in the past now and that was all that mattered to you,

"I won't let anyone know about our past, it's something I wish I could forget also." You mumbled sarcastically as you stormed out of the room making sure to slam the door behind you as you headed for your desk.

"What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost." Your assistant was worried Taehyung might have said something that had upset you but it wasn't true...Almost wasn't true.

"Can you just go and buy me a new shirt please, I feel exposed." You were handing him your purse trying to get him out of your hair, if you spoke about it even a little it would bring back all of those feelings again and leave you crying on the floor.

"Right away ma'am." He could sense there was something you didn't want to talk about so he headed out of your way while you sat at your desk contemplating the decision of quitting. You'd worked so hard all these years to have your ex come above you and potentially ruin everything for you.

"Do you want a lift back? I can drive past your apartment," Your assistant said to you later that night as you sat at your desk. Your heels were kicked off under the desk and you were at with one foot under yourself while you tried to stay away to finish the reports.

"No, it's alright. I have overtime tonight. I'll see you tomorrow though," You mumbled to him as he walked behind you and left. The rest of your floor was empty except for a few of the cleaners and of course Taehyung who was observed to make sure you did the overtime like you were supposed to. The words on the pieces of paper were all starting to blend together and make less sense the longer you stared at them, it was infuriating to do.

"Here," A mug of coffee was slipped onto your desk by Taehyung. He was already starting to feel guilty for making you do overtime but he didn't want people in the company to think he was picking favourites. You had to be tough in this company or it would chew you up and spit you back out. Glancing at the cup you ignored it and continued on with working not wanting to take anything from him, you didn't even want to be in the same room as him.

"You're free to go as soon as this report is finished and on my desk. You'll be doing overtime all week and you have a meeting on Friday." He slammed another folder full of reports on the desk before storming out of the building leaving you alone with the cleaners who had all turned to see what was happening.

The week continued on just like that, snide remarks being made by you in direction of him and Taehyung piling more work onto your desk with the excuse that, 'It was your job.' Later nights meant less sleep and less sleep meant you weren't pumping out the best of work but it was finally Friday night which meant you could go home and get away from him for the weekend.

"Drinks tonight?" A lady from your office questioned as she walked up behind your chair and began shaking it playfully,

"Erm I'd love to-" Your eyes looked behind her to see Taehyung watching you, he was sitting against his chair with his eyes dead on you.

"I have work to finish, next week?" The girls all began leaving and you were alone in the office with Taehyung again. Luckily for you, there was a large wall keeping you both apart but it wasn't large enough to your liking. You could still feel his eyes burning into the back of your head as you worked on the papers you were doing.

Taehyung wasn't in his office which meant you had about two seconds to get the report put on his desk and get into the elevator so you wouldn't have to face him. You dropped the papers down on the desk and began sprinting your way over to the lift, sliding inside and leaning back against the cold wall as you breathed a sigh of relief. Managing to avoid him all week had been difficult but you'd managed by sending your assistant in to give him or ask him for things. Or leaving whenever he wasn't around. There was no reason for you to talk to one another and you wouldn't have to feel hurt by him whenever you looked at him anymore.

"Y/n! Hold the door!" You scrunched your face together hoping the door would close as quickly as possible as he continued to yell your name out and begged you not to let the doors shut. The doors were so close to closing, you were almost free when his long shoe stuck in the door to open them again. The tension quickly began to grow awkward as he stood inside with you,

"Didn't you hear me calling?" You shook your head not wanting to admit you'd been hoping to get away from him. You just hoped that the elevator would move as quickly as possible but you seemed to move one floor and it began rumbling and it sounded as though it was about to fall apart.

"S-Shit," You whimpered your hand gripping onto the bar behind you, Taehyung glanced at you with panic in his eyes. He knew how badly you hated confined spaces and being trapped inside of an elevator probably wasn't what you had in mind for a fun Friday night.

A loud crunch sounded and the elevator jolted to a stop before the lights began to flicker out plunging you and Taehyung into complete darkness.

"I'll push the emergency button." Taehyung went to move but the elevator made another creaking sound so you gripped onto his wrist not wanting him to move.

"S-Stop, what if we fall?" He shook his head at you, he could tell just how frightened you were but there was nothing to be afraid of.

"We're okay, the ropes and wires will be fine it's just the power outage...Remember, they've been happening all week." You knew he was doing his best to keep you calm but it didn't help you at all. You slowly let go of his wrist so he could call someone but the button did nothing, it just seemed to push in and not do a thing.

"I don't have my phone it's up in my office," He whispered as he looked over at you, you were showing him your dead phone battery as you slowly slid down the back wall.

"We'll either start moving soon or someone will come to get us it's okay." But this was far from okay, this was all things not okay because you were stuck in here with your ex-boyfriend who was now your boss.

Time seemed to be passing by slowly, neither of you was sure of what the time actually was but you could have sworn you'd been in there for two days - which was impossible someone would have found you.

"We could talk you know, save us sitting in silence." He was sitting across from you on the opposite wall, his shirt was untucked with the top three buttons undone looking as immaculate as he always did. His brown curls were a mess from all of the times he'd been running his fingers through it and he'd even put his glasses on. Something he used to do whenever he got headaches from what you could remember.

"What should we talk about?" Your eyes were locked onto the ceiling, you didn't want to make eye contact with him as you spoke but you had to admit this was better than sitting there doing nothing.

"We could talk about why you think I was cheating on you..." You looked at him with raised eyebrows, pulling your knees into your chest.

"I don't think you were, I know you were." He rolled his eyes at you as he tried to move closer to you,

"Y/n. I love you I would never do something like that...Why would you think that?" Taehyung's words were buzzing around in your head as you tried to focus on them, the one constant thing was that he said 'loves' you and not loved past tense. Taking in a deep breath you tried not to think about the way your heart was pounding rapidly, at the way your body longed to be closer to him for this.

"I saw you with those other girls, I saw the way they flirted...T-The way you touched them," He shook his head as you fumbled over your words, none of it had been true. He would never do something like that to you, he couldn't stand hurting you.

"None of it was true, I was seeing a lot of girls towards the end because I was getting something for you...A lot of them were private jewellers." Your brows knitted together as he spoke to you, denying everything you thought to be true this last year. Taehyung could see how confused you were so he began to reach into his pocket,

"I take it everywhere I go, it reminds me of you and how much I'll always love you." There it was again. Love. Present tense.

"Tae-" He cut you short by pulling out a small navy blue box, he popped it open to reveal a silver chain with a ring around it.

"It's like a promise ring...only for adults and not teenagers. I wanted to make it perfect so it-"

"Has the date we met engraved," You whispered as you saw the date etched into the outside of the ring with enough space beside it to add another date to it.

"So you weren't cheating on me..." He shook his head slowly,

"But you let me walk out," You whispered to him as he crawled to sit next to you, he looked at your hands wanting nothing more than to reach out and take it into his own. He knew you were single, he'd been asking your scrawny looking assistant everything he could about you and he knew you hadn't dated anyone since.

"I didn't want you to hate me by trying to force you...I-I figured you'd realise I would never-" He was cut off when you suddenly, out of nowhere, began kissing him hungrily. Your hands working their way into his brown curls as you pulled him to face you, he hummed against your lips moving his hands to your waist.

"W-Wait, what are you doing?" He questioned part of him not wanting the kissing to end but the other part of him confused as to what was happening.

"I love you too...I-I thought you were cheated and I- I've never stopped loving you." Those were the only words he needed to hear from you as he brought you into another hungry kiss, you took control by sitting on his lap and smirking as you felt him bite down on your lip.

"As needy as ever." You whispered as you began kissing down his jawline and towards his neck, his aftershave was still the same. It made your body lurch forward as you ground your hips down onto his pants, you could feel just how much he needed you. He let out a whimper as you ground down and you giggled,

"I love you," You whispered to him as he cupped your chin in his hand and forced you to look into his eyes.

"I love you too," He mumbled bringing you into a rough kiss, his hands moving the edge of your skirt up as he pushed his palm along the inside of your thigh. Letting out a loud gasp as his thumb brushed along the outside of your core through your underwear you looked at him, begging him silently to take you then and there but the lift jolted and the lights flickered on.

"My office," He ordered as you stood up to straighten yourself out.

Once out of the confined space reality began to seep into you about what you were doing with Taehyung. How you'd practically pounced on him without a second thought but your body didn't care. You still wanted him badly so you raced to his office with him. He drew the curtains shut around the small window that looked out over the offices while you looked out at the city view.

"It's beautiful," You whispered as you stared out at all the nightlife. The lights on all the buildings were the only thing lighting up the top half of the sky, it was lovely. Taehyung stood behind you while watching you instead of the view,

"It's the second most beautiful view for me," You groaned at how cheesy he was being and looked down at the floor not wanting to show him how shy he still managed to make you.

"Don't hide from me," He whispered standing behind you and placing his hands on your waist, your breath hitched as soon as he touched you.

"You're beautiful," He whispered as he leant down to put a long kiss on your neck making you whine out at the feel of it.

"I missed the way you sound," He admitted as he continued to leave small kisses on your skin. Biting down softly as he pulled you closer to him. He was still hard for you which made you weak at the knees,

"You like this baby? You like the way I touch you?" You couldn't fathom the words to speak quite yet so you pushed your ass back against him and gasped feeling how hard he was.

"Want you," Was the only thing you could manage to say while rolling your hips back,

"Want you inside." You whispered but he cocked his head to the side and decided to tease you as he sucked on your neck.

"You want me inside? Inside where?" He ran his hands down your body, lifting up the tight pencil skirt that had been teasing him all week. Then his thumb came into contact with your wet panties,

"You're so wet Y/n, did I do this to you?" You nodded weakly and he smirked pushing the edge of your panties to the side as he began to rub harder on your exposed clit.

"Say it, I want to hear you say it." He whispered as he began rubbing roughly on your clit, teasing one finger at your entrance but never once pushing it into you.

"I want you inside of me, I want you to make love to me on the desk." You panted heavily, moaning out at the smallest of touches.

"Good girl," He praised spinning you around so fast you didn't have time to comprehend what was happening until you were placed onto the edge of the table.

He had a cocky smirk plastered across his face as he sunk down in front of you, looking up into your eyes as he placed a small kiss on your clit.

"Taste so much better than I remember," He wasted no time in teasing you and dipped his tongue into you. Moaning against you as he could feel you clenching around his tongue.

"Oh shit." You let out a high pitch yell as your hands pushed into his curls, pushing him closer to your core as you bucked against him, whimpering as he continued to eat you out on the desk.

"Look at me," He ordered as your head rolled back, you hissed as he pushed two fingers into you and chuckled.

"So tight, has no one fucked this pretty little cunt?" You shook your head, you'd not slept with anyone since the moment you left. It was always going to be him you would let touch you, no one else.

"T-Tae please, I'm close." You panted as he continued to push his fingers in and out of you, curling them as he pushed them knuckles deep. The room was starting to feel like it was spinning each time he thrust his fingers into you.

"You want to cum all over my fingers?" You nodded pathetically and he chuckled kissing up to your ear as he continued to fuck his own fingers to you.

"So fucking tight, cum all over my fingers then angel." You whimpered hearing him whisper into your ear, you bit down on his shoulder bucking against his fingers to drawer yourself closer to the edge.

"Ugh, shit- T-Taehyung!" You cried out feeling a warm sensation rise through your body before white clouded your vision. Cumming all over his fingers as he continued to pump them in and out of you. Staring into your eyes as he slowly pulled them out and sucked them clean.

Seeing this you went to slide off the desk to return the favour but he shook his head, unbuckling his trousers as he looked at you.

"N-Need to feel you around me." You smirked this time, seeing how desperate he became within a matter of seconds.

"Then take me." You slowly spread your legs for him on the desk and he gulped looking at how wet you were, your cum still dripping from your folds and he grunted. Reaching out to run his fingers through your arousal before coating himself in it. Pumping himself slowly as he grunted out your name,

"S-Shit baby...I don't- I don't have any-" You shook your head at him as you knew what he was going to say,

"I'm on the pill." As soon as the words left your mouth it was like something took over him and he slowly pushed himself into you. Your nails dug into your shoulders as you whimpered out his name.

"T-Taehyung i-it hurts-" It'd been so long since anything like this had happened for you, he kissed you lovingly.

"I know Y/n, I'm sorry." He pulled back out before sliding back in moaning as he felt your walls tighten around him.

"Even tighter than before," He grunted as he kissed you again, holding onto your hips as he continued with the slow thrusts into you not wanting to hurt you.

"F-Faster," You panted as your back arched forward into him. His eyes scanned over the white shirt and all he could picture was Monday morning when your shirt was wet, he ripped your shirt open and smirked seeing a black bra.

"So fucking hot." He hissed as he buried himself deep into you, freeing you from your bra and throwing your ripped clothing somewhere in the room.

"Argh fuck." You whimpered as he began tugging and twisting on one nipple while biting softly on the other. He had you in the palm of his hands and he knew it.

"T-Taehyng faster please." You begged him so he began to piston his hips forward, bringing you closer to the edge of the table to pick up his speed. Thrusting in and out of you quickly while you let out screams of his name and curse words.

"J-Just like that!" You cried out as he reached down to play with your sensitive clit again. Tugging it between his fingers and rubbing it roughly.

"Oh god, Tae!" You screamed out as he continued to thrust into you, you clenched around and he grunted.

"B-Baby d-don't," He stuttered out as his hip movements began to stutter, every clench as bringing him closer to his own release and he didn't want this to end.

"W-Want you to cum." You whimpered out to him as his rhythm picked up again, hitting your hilt every time making your eyes roll back.

"Y-You first princess," He chuckled watching the way your eyes rolled back as he hit you in just the right spot. You clenched around him a couple more time before moaning out his name loudly, so close to your second orgasm you wanted to push him away from the over-stimulation but pull him back and never let him stop.

"S-Shit I-I'm cumming." You whimpered as he pushed into you roughly one last time, making your core clench around him and released onto his cock. His hips jutted as he let out a growl from his lips, holding you in place as he filled you up. You whimpered feeling some of it drip out of you already but he held himself inside of you. You convulsed a little and he chuckled pulling out slowly before cupping your face in his hands and smiling at you.

"I love you so much Y/n," He pulled you into a loving kiss but you pulled away,

"I love you too," Your voice came out hoarse from all the yelling and you whimpered laying back against the desk not caring that you were laid on stacks of ruined papers.

"Am I off the hook for being late now?" You laughed as he pulled you up and wrapped his blazer around your body, he chuckled at you.

"You're only off the hook if you come back to mine tonight. I want to wake up with you in my arms, cook you breakfast...Like old times." He whispered as he pushed his head into the crook of your neck and kissed softly.

"Of course," You whispered back to him as he pulled you down from the desk, laughing softly as you whined out desperately. You suddenly felt empty when his seed left your body and he rolled his eyes at you, promising to do it again when you got back to his place if you behaved yourself on the ride home.

Tagline: @fluffyjoons @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @rjsmochii @bisexualmess007 @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1

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marireadshellblazer · 3 years

Text

Hellblazer Issue #13

THIS. THIS FREAKIN’ ISSUE.

Honestly, the best review of the chapter would just be this picture and nothing more.

Just this thing. That’s really all you need.

However, I wanna dive into my thoughts on this a little more. So, off we go.

Okay, so I love the flashback to John’s childhood. I think that it’s easy to look back on our childhood and think of the “good ol’ days” when, in reality, those times were often not so good in the moment. I like how he addresses that by talking about what problems he could have faced during that supposedly happy time for him. In my own case, my family used to go to the ocean every summer. While I do have fond memories of those trips, as I reminisce about them, it doesn’t take long for me to recall the more unpleasant aspects of it that are easily forgotten in the sea of mental and physical snapshots of smiles and laughter.

Ahh nuclear power. This is a subject touched on early in Swamp Thing, and rightfully so; the avatar of nature and life would certainly have a bone to pick with nuclear energy and the destruction it can/does cause. In the case of Hellblazer here, this chapter outlines yet another social issue relevant to the time. On a side note, it’s chapters like these that are part of why I love these early issues. They are a time capsule that explores the issues of the time and presents them in a way that still feels very real even 30 years later. I mean, nuclear energy is still such a point of contention in the world today, not to mention nuclear weapons.

Now, I don’t know much about nuclear power usage in the UK or the feelings on it in the late 80’s-early 90’s. According to what I was able to find online, there are 13 nuclear reactors in the UK today. Like in other countries that use nuclear power, it’s believed that the benefits of having them outweigh the risks; not using fossil fuels, low emissions, relatively high efficiency, etc. However, as Chernobyl, the Three Mile Island accident, and the Fukushima disaster have taught us, these power plants can be dangerous with effects that are straight up nightmare-fuel. Only worse, because those nightmares are real.

Growing up in an Okinawan/Japanese household, the dangers of radiation, nuclear power, and nuclear weapons are stressed from a very young age. I remember reading books about hibakusha as a child and observing days of remembrance for victims of the bombs. War in general is a big no-no. So, the aftermath of the nuclear plant explosion really had me thinking about the hibakusha a lot.

Woooo this panel. I keep reading about how if all the major companies pitched in a small fraction of what they make the oceans would be spotless. I read the Japanese news, and the fact that the waste from the nuclear plant meltdown in 2011 is going to be released into the Pacific Ocean has incited public outrage. The American military base in Okinawa is poisoning the water supply, pushing native wildlife to extinction, and killing the coral reefs. The companies can afford to keep their executives in homes with golden shitters; the world’s governments are ok with spending over half it’s budget on guns; it seems that the world’s biggest players are more than willing to spend their money to keep handling things as they are. Even to the detriment of the environment. Even if it means sacrificing the health of not only the future, but the here and now. Supporting war and death over health. Disgusting.

Yes, John. We are pretty much doomed in one way or another.

Same though.

The whole scene of the power plant explosion is really well done. The art, the narration, it’s just *chief’s kiss* mwa!

The boyfriend going back for his boots and the woman with her children really struck me. They choose to stay close to the danger and worry over trivial things in the face of what is happening. Even the girlfriend arguing with John; she’s wanting cigarettes at a time like that. It parallels how a lot of the public looks at these situations, I think. I mean, just look at how people have reacted to the COVID pandemic; choosing to go out and risk their health as well as the health of others over trivial things. Do boots really matter when a reactor has exploded? Is going to a bar with the boys really more important than staying home to keep from being exposed to a deadly virus?

The “rescue” team that chases off John as he climbs through the ruins is pretty true to life, honestly. Caring more about the image of things and how well they can hide the reality of the aftermath than actually helping people. After all, if the world saw once again what destruction a nuclear meltdown can cause, it would cause worldwide outcry. No reason to scare them, right? Just hide all the bodies. Nuclear power is “safe” after all.

Nice references to Peter Pan.

Aaaaand now, this is where the weird finally reaches it’s peak.

Now, I had a few thoughts reading this section; how this whole issue could have parallels to human nature in it’s most basic form; disaster and industrial progress could actually send us back to a more primal state; the instinct to breed and continue on is innate even through a nuclear winter; evolution marches on; etc. I could elaborate, but that would be exhausting to write. Really, this explains everything.

Honestly, knowing what John has been through, it does not shock me that his dreams are like this.

#Hellblazer #issue 13 #reading #Thoughts #John Constantine

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terrm9 · 4 years

Text

Jupiter (Ethan X MC)

Words count: 3 000

Warnings: angst & fluff

Set in Chapter 19, after MC leaves Ethan in the atrium and meets her friends

Truth to be told, I was planning to take a little break from writing, as I am extremely self-conscious and I kind of dislike everything I create (well except my kid, she turned out pretty great) but then I’ve read Chapter 19 and was like ‘okay if PB can write shit, so can I’

This was written at the night while I was super angry with the chapter (and also have had two glasses of wine) and I never thought it would be shared but here I am sharing it and probably deleting when I am not so pissed at PB lol

As much as Chiara wanted to get drunk and have fun with her friends, there was a huge part of her that was still standing in the Edenbrook’s atrium next to Ethan. And without that part, she would never be able to properly enjoy her night out.

With that, she parted her way with her friends, encouraging them to drink for her too and after a while she was alone.

Ethan was clutching the handle of his leather briefcase so hard his knuckles have gone white. He had a reputation, a face to maintain, but the storm inside him was something utterly different than the indifferent expression he has been wearing on his face.

He wanted to follow Chiara, he wanted to spend this evening with her and her only, as she was the only person that could calm the tempestuous waters the storm has been causing.

As she stepped outside, he knew he has hurt her with the uncertainty of his statement and hearing her friends’ cheering and laughing when she joined them stopped him from following her. She needed to be in the company of people who could make her laugh, she deserved to forget about her worries for a while and who was he to take that chance from her?

Who was he to take any chance from her, after all?

The sound of footsteps startled him and his shock has been multiplied as he noticed the person they belonged to.

“I thought you left with your friends,” he spoke after the initial surprise was gone.

Chiara shrugged, stopping in her tracks when she reached him, standing right in front of him. She crossed her arms and even in the darkness of the atrium, Ethan could see the fire blazing in her eyes.

“We need to talk, Ethan.”

She didn’t surprise him, not really. She was brilliant and she could see right through him – he was

more surprised that she waited so long before demanding a proper conversation.

“We do,” he nodded. “Are you sure you want to talk now? You should be having fun with your friends while you are all in Boston. We can talk tomorrow.”

“We need to talk now. Can we take a walk?”

Knowing that there was no space to refuse, he nodded again and followed her into the night. The air was chilly, however it smelled like spring and a promise of warmer months to come. Better months to come.

How ironic.

Chiara couldn’t ignore the growing distance between them any longer. Even now, walking next to each other, they didn’t do as much as hold their hands. Ethan’s hand didn’t linger on the small of her back like it used to. There was no random kiss on the top of her head in the middle of their walk. Her arms remained crossed over her chest and Ethan’s hand – the one that wasn’t holding his briefcase – was safely hidden in the pocket of his jacket.

Their walk was silent – both of them expecting the other one to speak first. It was when they reached a park when Chiara couldn’t hold it any longer. Without preparing Ethan – or herself for that matter – for what was about to come, she just spoke before the courage could leave her.

“What is this, Ethan? Because I actually, and probably naively, believed that there was something going on between us. You kissing me at gala like that, you attending the brunch with my friends and referring yourself as my boyfriend? You asking me to spend a weekend with your dad in Providence? I am sorry but all of those things made me believe that what we have is more than just great sex and a dinner from time to time.”

Ethan was standing in the middle of the park, his mouth agape as he stared at the woman he adored so much speaking with such pained tone in her voice. He deserved her words, he knew he deserved them, but it didn’t made it hurt any less.

“Of course there is more that just that between us,” he finally replied, not knowing what else to say. He needed her to understand and he wished she could do it without him having to tell her all those horrible things on his mind.

Chiara found herself repeating Alan’s words from all those weeks ago in her head, reminding her that she needed to be patient.

‘Ethan can be difficult. I beg you to be patient with him when things get difficult. You are the only person I have ever believed could make Ethan truly and unconditionally happy.’

“Then why are you so cold, Ethan? Why have you been so fucking distant?” she asked, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “I have tried my best to be patient Ethan. I have tried so damn hard, because I realize that Edenbrook’s closing and all the changes in your life are just too much now, but you are not the only one whose life has been too much lately. I have given you time and space and all the empathy I could and I geniuely believed that we would make things work in the end, but after today, I stopped believing. How could you say that? After everything we’ve been through, how dare you to say that you can’t say what the future brings? I am asking you, how fucking dare you Ramsey?”

That was it. All the air left Ethan’s lungs at her words and he found the world spinning around him, unable to stop the feeling of losing the ground under his feet. He stumbled to the nearest bench and sat down, taking deep breaths to steady himself. He knew he owed

Chiara a lot of explaining, that she deserved to know, to understand, but hell, he was scared.

He has become a person that resembled nothing of the great Ethan Ramsey.

When she finds what a mess I am, she will leave. As she should.

“There are things I haven’t been telling you. About myself. I… I am a mess, Chiara. With my mother back and Edenbrook closing and needing to find another job and you needing to find another job… It’s too much for me. But as you said, life has been rough for all of us, not only for me and I couldn’t drag you into my issues when you are fighting your own.”

Chiara sighed and took her seat next to Ethan, taking his cold hand into hers as she whispered: “Tell me everything, please. I need your honesty more than anything, Ethan.”

Ethan closed his eyes, allowing himself the mercy of not seeing the disappointment in Chiara’s face as he spoke.

“Ever since I left my mother at the rehab center, I come to visit her there every week. And every time I am with her, there are two sides of me, two sets of feelings fighting each other. There is Ethan, even after everything that has been done, is happy to have his mother back in his life, the one that is able to laugh with her, to bring her a damn photo. And there is another Ethan, the one that still hates her for leaving him and leaving his father, the one that hates her for taking away his chance to grow up without a fear of being left alone.”

He fell silent for a while and even though he felt Chiara’s gentle squeeze on his hand, encouraging him to continue, he didn’t dare to open his eyes and look into Chiara’s ones.

“And it’s confusing, you know? I hate being confused and I often wonder if giving her a second chance was a good thing, if it wouldn’t be easier to leave her in the past and just hate her for the rest of my life. And Edenbrook’s closing… I never thought that it would affect me so much. It’s not really about the hospital, damn it’s not even about moving away from Boston, it’s about you, Chiara. I’ve got some offers and some of them are really tempting, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept any of them, because I can’t leave Boston if you stay here. And I can’t ask you to go with me to New York or Los Angeles, if you wish to stay here. You are going to be the best doctor, the best diagnostician of your generation Chiara and nobody can doubt that. So who am I to take your chances away from you? Finishing your residency in a hospital of your choice, in a hospital that could provide the best learning environment for you is the most important thing for you and I would never forgive myself if you wasted your potential because I selfishly dragged you to the hospital I chose. And if you found your dream hospital, I would go with you, of course I would, but why would you want me to follow you? You are capable of making a change in medicine without me and you deserve to own your success.”

He gulped visibly, the lump forming in his throat making it hard to continue. What he said was true – he couldn’t see Chiara needing him, wherever she decides to go. The fact that it was true didn’t mean it didn’t hurt him to say it out loud.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear Chiara mutter: “This is the most idiotic thing I have ever heard.”

“And of course, there’s the thing… Every time I imagine you moving away, my mind starts spiraling down the memory lane until it crashes with the memory of the attack. And that’s when things start to get ugly for me. Do you remember what I told you after the funeral? About my fear of leaving you alone?”

He opened his eyes at last to see her reaction and as she nodded quietly, he continued.

“The fear is still there, Chiara. I still feel it every day, from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep and some nights, that fear wakes me up. And ever since I’ve known that we wouldn’t be able to work together anymore, it has gotten worse. Sometimes I can’t catch my breath. Sometimes, my hands start to shake. Sometimes, my vision gets blurry. I just sit on the couch in my dark living room and replay every possible scenario in my head, every possibility of what could happen if we don’t work together. Few days ago, I have gotten to this point too and I imagined that you would work in a different state and there would be another attack and I wouldn’t be there to help you, to save you. To hold your hand. That I would receive a call from your mother telling me that you were gone, that you died while I worked thousand miles away from you. The next thing I know, I’m bent over my toilet, throwing up.”

His voice cracked and Chiara could see fresh tears falling down from his still closed eyes. He was clutching on her hand now, as if it was to make sure that she was still there, that she was alive and next to him.

“I’m a mess, Chiara, you know? I am a fucking mess and you deserve to be with someone who can make you feel safe, who can take your worries away from you. You deserve to laugh and dance and joke around, you deserve to hear all those sweet things I haven’t said until now, you deserve to be with someone who doesn’t go crazy every time you don’t pick up your phone, imagining the worst scenarios. You deserve to be with someone who agrees to do every stupid dangerous thing with you, someone who is easy to be around, someone without so much issues, someone young and happy. I am old and broken and difficult. And I thought, I hoped that maybe if I put some distance between us, that maybe it would be easier. That my fear would diminish, that it would be easier for you to leave and for me to be left.”

He finally opened his eyes fully, looking at the signs of disgust and disappointment he expected to see on Chiara’s face.

Instead, he found her staring at him with expression so gentle, so full of affection and pain and understanding.

“First of all, you are not that old,” she chuckled, not being able to keep the remark to herself. “You are practically a millennial!”

Ethan shook his head, but there were signs of amusement on the corners of his lips and Chiara decided to take that as her personal win.

“Have you ever considered that maybe I want to be part of your mess, Ethan?” she asked quietly, all traces of joking gone. “That I don’t want to be with anyone else, no matter how difficult it gets between us? Have you ever thought that maybe I have chosen you as you are, the difficult, broken Ethan?”

There was a long silence. Chiara didn’t quite expect him to answer and Ethan had no idea how to answer that.

Of course it never occurred to him. He never believed that she would want to be with him if she knew what an anxious chaos he was.

“I need you to answer my next question and I need you to be honest.”

“Of course,” he answered immediately.

“Do you care about my career or about my happiness?”

The question took Ethan by surprise. Was that some kind of trick? A test he was supposed to pass? Those two things appeared strongly correlated to Ethan.

“What are you asking, Chiara?”

“My career or my happiness, Ethan?”

“Your happiness,” he answered at last.

“Then we are stuck together. Because my happiness is with you, Ethan. I can pursue an amazing career and still be terribly unhappy if you are not part of my life.”

Ethan shook his head again, his whole body tensing at those words. He hated himself for putting her into such position.

“That’s the problem Chiara, don’t you understand? You shouldn’t have to decide between me and your career. You are young, your whole life, your whole career ahead of you. I can’t be the one to cut your opportunities short because I am selfish and want to be with you.”

She laughed softly to herself, tracing his knuckles with her thumb, the gesture that usually worked the other way around for them.

“Life is not a fairytale, Ethan. I am not a princess that can have it all. Right now I have to choose and I am choosing you. And that doesn’t mean I am giving up on my career, for God’s sake. Of all the people, you are the one to know why I became a doctor. I never did it because I dreamed of being famous or rich or speak on conferences. I became a doctor to help people, to make a change in their lives and I can do that in any hospital, any. Hell, if we decide to move to Cambodia tomorrow and help people there, I am in. I don’t care about being the best diagnostician of my generation, I don’t care about awards and people praising me. I thought you knew that.”

There was a sadness in her voice as she said the last sentence. It hurt her that after two years, Ethan believed that she would want the career of a famous doctor over anything else.

“I love you,” she whispered, not looking into his eyes. “And I have loved you for a long time. I was afraid to tell you because I believed that it would scare you off and you would distance yourself, but look at us, distancing anyway. So here it is. I love you and it makes me staggeringly sad that you don’t allow yourself to believe that. That you expect me to leave.”

Taking a deep breath, she played with her options. She could just stop now, with her heart already on her sleeve. Or she could push him even more, pouring her everything out.

“I can’t force you to want to be with me, obviously. So trust me, if you decide that whatever it is between us, is over, I will let you go and I will move on. Because my life wouldn’t end, because I would have to move on. But I am not your kid Ethan, I am not even your intern anymore. I am an adult, a woman capable of deciding what I want. And I want you, Ethan. With every difficulty ahead of us, I want you.”

Unable to contain himself any longer, Ethan wrapped Chiara’s whole frame into his arms, hugging her with a force he has never hugged her before.

They were both messy now, a tangle of arms and kisses, Ethan’s tears falling into Chiara’s hair, Chiara’s hands clutching the back of Ethan’s jacket.

They hugged and kissed and smiled shyly at one another and then kissed again, not caring about anyone seeing them, about anyone being resentful of such public declaration of their love.

“What if you hate me? When you find out you could have had a better life with someone else, somewhere else but stayed stuck with me instead? What if you hate me then?” Ethan whispered as their lips parted, the terrible feeling of dread in his gut not completely gone.

Chiara cupped his cheeks with both her hands, pulling him closer to her so that she could kiss his forehead with a gentleness only Chiara Ray could ever provide.

“I could never hate you. And you need to stop hating yourself too, Ethan. I chose you and I’ll keep choosing you for as long as you allow me to.”

New tears damped Ethan’s cheeks at her words and even though he always made sure to not to cry when anyone could see him, he didn’t give a single damn now. He was pretty sure she could see his bare soul, so what would be the point of hiding his tears?

“Can I take you home with me?” he whispered and it was when Chiara nodded that the first sincere smile formed on his lips.

*******

Last note: okay I know my MC is terribly in love and willing to stop being the future of medicine for Ethan, I am sorry okay I just can’t make her so career oriented. Also I didn’t want Ethan to say I love you because I hope (I BEG YOU PIXELBERRY) we can get it in next chapter canonically

Taglist: @takemyopenheart @maurine07 @senseofduties @mercury84choices @flightlessbirdiee @udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @ohchoices @adrex04 @queencarb @archxxronrookie @choicesfan10 @whatchique @drariellevalentine @gryffindordaughterofathena

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfiction #chapter 19 #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

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hollenka99 · 3 years

Text

Laying Foundations

Summary: The Blood God gets used to caring for a baby and small child who is getting livelier by the year. Chapter 1 of Blood and Feathers. <<Prologue

Warnings: Very brief emeto reference

It is a rather long journey to his Overworld forest cabin from wherever he'd ended up that caused him to be near Phillip's birthplace. The baby, ever so respectfully quiet until now, bawls as soon as the heat of the Nether seems to register. That or he finds portal travel disagreeable. The Blood God is not yet ready to unveil his latest plan. It is half formed and to be honest, he is completely winging it. He wasn't even sure whether he wished to raise his little project here, in his domain where things have always felt a bit... clearer, or in the Overworld, where Phillip is meant to belong, until the Netherdamned child threatened to blow his cover. All he could do to lessen the risk of being spotted is cover Phillip with his cloak and ignore the tiny talons poking at his skin. Besides, if worse came to worst, he could always glare a piglin down into silence. There are very few who are bold enough to trifle with a violence-centric deity, after all. But they do eventually make it. It then hits him that yes, of course, nothing here was left in a suitable condition for raising a child. There is clutter all over the table for one thing. There is also the remains of some meal he must have had prior to leaving the last time. Forgive him for not caring about trivial things such as cleaning up after himself when he's done that thousands of times over his centuries long life. Cleaning is a futile endeavour anyway. You achieve your result, only for it to rapidly be reversed. It will be worse now that he has subjected himself to a child, a form of life unable to comprehend its surroundings required respect, therefore antagonising their environment in their ignorance. That said, he did have three wolves who were capable of causing a mess all on their own. Perhaps, he ponders, he should have asked Celandine to reserve Phillip for a few days as he prepared the place for another being. It will be fine. Phillip is too young to care as it is. After some strife, the house becomes tidier. A pillow and its removed case are placed in a box for lack of better furniture. It will be as good of a bed as Phillip will get while the god fully adjusts his living arrangements. Caring for an infant is... more work than he had been expecting. And he had been anticipating to be kept busy by the kid regardless. During the first night, everything appears to be a problem. He's been fed, changed, paid attention to in general... all of it pointing to the fact Phillip should be content with sleeping. Then ah, the sword swings. Phillip must finally realise he is not going to see his family anymore. Oh well, not much he can do to remedy that. Also, he must say that for such a small stomach, it certainly seems to need filling often. Celandine checks to see how he is faring and offers advice. One such recommendation is to heat the liquid so that it is served warm. However, this occasionally proves to be a disaster as his sense of 'too hot' has been skewed by Nether standards. Phillip never fails to let him know if he's miscalculated. He knows it's irresponsible but a short trip without the baby through the Nether to collect Krev, Valka and Mort won't do much damage. They leap up at him but he hasn't got time to waste with pleasantries. The trio follow him diligently as they pass the statue of the four of them, narrowly avoid a slip into lava because how many lives must I live before you listen when I say be careful and they still remain at his heels when he steps into the portal. The wolves certainly love Phillip at first sight since they barely allow the god to leave the infant's designated room. Easy, he tells them, get your noses away because he's not a plaything and you won't even get to see him if you crowd round like this. The longer they have to get used to each other, the less agitated Phillip tends to be when not in need of care. It is during these calmer moments that they can be found, for example, reading a book 'together'. More to the point, he reads aloud while Phillip tries to grab pages, wriggles in the crook of his arm or the little boy simply stares up at him. Phillip has also become fond of gripping his caregiver's tusks whenever he is carried. It's an odd habit but it isn't painful or particularly uncomfortable so eh, who cares. Being 7 months old when they meet, Phillip is already on the verge of crawling. This is an issue. He gains the ability to be mobile by the time the Blood God is satisfied the cabin is satisfactory for a baby. This soon devolves into a keen eye frequently being kept aimed at the floor. The god wasn't a stranger to watching his step (a trio of wolves seemingly determined to become safety hazards at times will do that to you) but this was even worse. Do you know how miniscule Phillip is compared to him?! And this is the shortest the god can make himself. He is going to accidentally tread on the infant one day if he doesn't remain vigilant, he is sure of it. Winter proves to be a troublesome time. The cold seeps in through the windows whenever there isn't a lit fire to combat it. He despises the season and most years, he is either residing in the Nether anyway or he stays in his large desert home. Well actually, that place of his in the desert tends to be his usual shelter. It's just that humans (and, by extension, avians he supposes) are so fickle when it comes to temperature. They can never be too hot or too cold, for fear of their bodies' ridiculous way of attempting to maintain thermal homeostasis leading to their demises. Babies... are likely the worst culprits of this, along with the elderly. That was why he chose somewhere milder like this forest when it came to Phillip. Celandine has some thoughts on the matter, given that she is unhappy upon her next visit. "You do realise avians are migratory, don't you? It is, after all, partially how you ended up meeting and adopting him. The cold does not suit him." "It does not suit me either. If he is simply cold, I will keep him by the fire." "Keep him warm." She sternly instructs. Perhaps she is right though. He isn't too fond of the lowering temperatures and Phillip's fussiness seems to agree with him. He drafts up rough blueprints for a house, larger than this lowly, isolated cottage but also nothing requiring the time and resources on par with his massive desert villa. Hopefully, with the builders he plans to hire to construct it on his behalf, it will be ready for them this time next year. Which leaves the more pressing issue of what is he going to do for this winter? Well, he supposes there's only one thing for it. Phillip does not find the heat favourable. He spends his days complaining in his own infantile way or being very quiet when struggling with the temperature. Between the age of 9 to 12 months, his style is very much in the minimalist category. Another dilemma the god has is the fact he never exactly need a reason to keep cool here. Therefore, a water source is relatively far away and the coldest spot on the property is the room used to keep food fresh for longer. Phillip shouldn't really be around raw meat but for the sake of lowering the risk of him overheating, he does become familiar with the storage area. However, it's not as if he lives in there. He does get placed outside in the shade with a blanket underneath him every now and again. Babies will taste test any old thing they can get their hands on and there is no better example of this than the way a crawling infant takes fistfuls of the most abundant resource around him to sample. It's the god's duty to supervise in order to prevent sand from becoming unintentionally integrated into Phillip's diet. He notices birds lingering in unusual numbers in the early weeks of the new year. Low enough that perhaps he hasn't cared to notice the true extent of the local bird population before. High enough that he's sure there weren't this many before now. It's February too which makes it even more perplexing. Disappearing to warmer lands is one thing but surely they don't migrate to barren wastelands such as these. Then March 1st arrives and suddenly it all begins to make sense. Celandine could honestly have been less subtle. Any longer and it would have been an infestation. The goddess lands to the cacophony of birds cheering her arrival. Phillip's absent-minded babbling ceases as soon as his brain registers that she has taken him in her arms. She kneels, a baby in one arm while the other is held out as an invitation. She calls out, asking where the subject of her intentions was and summoning it to come to her. A bird with dark feathers makes itself known. It swoops in, perching on the offered limb. It's not a remarkable creature in any way. It has wings, it has eyes, it... presumably breathes. Regardless, it sets its eyes on Phillip from the moment it comes forward. Phillip himself observes the bird with curiosity, even reaching out to it. "Given that you have completed a year of life now, I thought a lifelong friend to keep you company throughout all the other years you're going to see would be a nice gift. She was born last spring, just like you, and she'll stay with you until it's time for you to go. So take good care of each other." The two are left on the ground opposite each other. The crow (apparently that's what the species was called) appears inquisitive. Phillip, on the other hand, crawls back towards him within a minute. "What's their name?" The god asks when Celandine soon shows signs of leaving. A chuckle. "She hasn't told me." It doesn't take too long after his birthday for the baby to learn how to stand with support. In fact, once he manages the feat once, he seems to become obsessed with it. Soft clicking can soon be heard near various pieces of furniture multiple times a day. It would seem the Blood God had just started to get the hang of dealing with a child at one stage of development when Phillip inevitably progressed onto the next. He learns to walk unassisted out on the grass around their house in June. He'd been warned this part of the infant's development would be slower than a human's but given he wasn't aware of how Overworlder children grew, it didn't bother him in the first place. The 1 year old avian struggles to maintain his balance in the beginning but as the weeks and months go on, the clack of talons on wood grows ever more common. Phillip catches him speaking with his ambassadors one day. The conversation isn't anything serious and honestly, should have been had in the Nether. However, wouldn't you know it, raising a kid requires you to be present in case they need you. So they're here, risking their wellbeing just so Phillip can be entertaining himself in the corner of his eye. The toddler specifically notices them bow prior to taking their leave. When the god turns to head back home, he spots a small figure crouch and punch the earth in an imitation of what he witnessed moments before. "Not the time or place." Phillip looks at him expectantly. He repeats the action. "Oh no, I'm not going to lower myself for you. It's called me being at the top of a hierarchy that you're at the bottom of. ...But you probably won't understand that concept for a while." A brief nod of the head is all Phillip receives. He pouts in response, makes a third attempt, but follows him inside all the same when he doesn't get what he wanted. Learning to speak is a slow process for the child, made even slower by the inconsistency of languages spoken at him. The only one who is monolingual is the bird Phillip got for his birthday. As time goes on and the boy starts to get used to forming words, he frequently points to the animal to say things such as "Am" or "Mimi". It's not until November or so that Phillip begins to refer to her as 'Amica'. It takes the god longer than it should have to realise that this is the crow's name and not, as he initially assumed, the Common translation of the Avian word for 'bird'. Amica it is then. The name becomes one of Phillip's favourite Common words to say. Also around this time, the savannah house gets completed, or at least the bare minimum of it is ready. Any extra rooms can be commissioned to be done in upcoming springs and summers if he so desires. The exterior is acacia with a cobblestone frame. It looks nice, as do the rooms inside. The basement that spans the entire area underneath the building will make for good storage space. Like the forest, there are plenty of trees and open spaces for Phillip to play in one day. With some rope and a plank of wood, he could craft a swing once Phillip is able to use one. He comes to realise that this child has no concrete language. Phillip will attempt to copy his grunts and snorts but nothing his vocal chords can produce is quite as deep or guttural as they need to be. The Blood God has been speaking in a mix of Piglin and Common, very occasionally reverting to Ancient Piglin. It depends on his mood but he has been attempting to raise him bilingual with a subconscious bias towards Piglin. Whenever Celandine visits, she will talk to him exclusively in Common for some reason instead of her own natural tongue. As for Amica, they converse only in Avian. However, the reasoning behind that is obvious. One way or another, he can tell Phillip is getting confused with all the words he has to know at only 2 years old. He will speak in Piglin, pause then make some kind of tweety noise while frowning. The funnier moments are when Phillip forgets himself and speaks Avian to him before realising his mistake when the god doesn't understand him. His tiny brain has to fit a great deal of information inside it but they will get there. Defeating a toddler in battle is very easy. His ward lacks co-ordination, focus and sometimes attempts to procure 'weaponry' that is far beyond his weight limit. The Blood God has been whacked with a stick more times than he would like. As annoying as having his legs be attacked with an inefficient blunt object can be, the kid's giggling whenever he reacts to it in any way does make it more tolerable. The wolves enjoy the results of his pitiful attempts at throwing though so all is not lost. However, all this physical play has a habit of messing up Phillip's wings if they're not careful. It had taken practice for the god to care for the wings to a decent standard. Now it was Phillip's turn to start learning, given that he was growing old enough to gain the dexterity for it. The majority of it is still the Blood God's responsibility because gods know that toddler does not pay self-grooming as much attention as he should yet but his involvement increases all the same. And when he molts over the summer, Phillip makes it clear he doesn't want his feathers disposed of. So the god supposes there's going to be a chest full of old feathers in it now. Who knows, it might be interesting for Phillip to peruse through one day. Each early January, the god has been begrudgingly allowing himself to be called away. Ever since Phillip came along, he's been slacking with this specific duty. He'll be presented with a selection of potential warriors for him to act as sponsor for but he never cares much for choosing the one he actually believes in, as he used to do. Being the Blood God's candidate in the fight used to be an advantage but he wouldn't be surprised if it's becoming a hinderance recently. How can you win if your sponsor doesn't help with your preparations throughout the year? The god would say he needed to sit out on being a sponsor if he could. It's simply not possible. It likewise is impossible for him to safely and discreetly keep Phillip in the Nether for weeks. When the actual tournaments come, he now skips them. He can get away with being absent, after all. It's not like he hasn't sat quarter- or semi-finals out before. The final though and the celebrations after? Yeah... not exactly something he can consider missing, especially given it's him who has to have the winner presented to him then host the party. To solve his problem, he speaks to Celandine. She apparently can't care for him in her own home (something about it not being suitable for mortals) but she can arrange for a couple to temporarily babysit Phillip while the finals are being fought. This time, he returns to house with a sleeping child in his hold. The toddler never says a huge amount regarding his time there. However, that's more likely due to his young age than a comment on his experience away from home. When he's three years old, the god decides Phillip is old enough to start working on fighting basics such as footing and learning environmental awareness. It's nothing strenuous or particularly physical but developing the foundation blocks now will serve them both well in the future. Use of any form of proper weaponry can be left for when Phillip is a little older. As the weeks roll by, the boy begins to really take to it. It requires conscious effort for him to maintain a proper stance when moving around but they can work on it. They both have years to get it right and improve efficiency. As a treat to reward him for his efforts so far, the Blood God plans to make a delicacy he's been wanting to introduce Phillip to for a while. He temporarily leaves him under the supervision of the wolves while he sleeps so that certain ingredients could be collected in the Nether. The fungus (both types, he's going all out) is sliced while he creates a broth with an infusion of wither petals. Mushrooms get thrown in too for an Overworld spin on it. An addition of torn petals completes the dish. When he serves it to Phillip, the boy recoils at the taste which causes him to end up eating wet mushrooms and fungus for dinner as a compromise. Not even an hour later, he is pale, less attentive than usual and holding a bowl due to being violently ill. He wants to dismiss it as food poisoning of some sort, maybe he didn't prepare it properly (he knows he didn't mess it up, not with how experienced he is with the dish) or perhaps Phillip is simply suffering from an undiscovered allergy. He reckons the best course of action is to send Amica to Celandine, she'd likely have a better idea than him. And oh, does she. "You gave him soup laced with wither rose petals? Are you trying to kill him?!" "Of course not." He growls back. "It's just that nobody seems to be writing down 'hey don't feed anything wither related to kids'." "Don't feed wither roses to anyone! How have you been around for millennia but still don't know only piglins have a tolerance to wither poison? Gods above, it is the commonest of common knowledge." Regaining his health is an arduous task for the small child. His body fights it as best as it can but its methods risk leading to severe dehydration. It is for this reason the god is eternally grateful their savannah home is close to a body of water. If he's not checking in on Phillip, he's boiling water or preparing safe food so he can urge the kid to eat. The fever keeps Phillip in bed for days. It's slow, it's messy, it's far from a great time for anyone. But they gradually see it through. Phillip just about manages to get to the other side, albeit feeling temporarily weaker. "He's lucky I gave him longevity as part of being one of my Chosen. /You're/ lucky." Celandine comments when the disaster finally begins to see its end. "Trust me, Blood God, one more miscalculation on your part that's in even the vaguest vicinity of this one and I will not hesitate to deliver him to the caregivers he should be with. The only reason I'm allowing this experiment of yours to continue is my own curiosity. However, I value him seeing 30 years more than how he gets to that age. This is your only warning." It is duly noted. The god thinks it wise to let Phillip mingle with other children. Who knows how he'd turn out if all he had for company throughout his formative years was a couple of gods, three immortal wolves and Amica or whatever other bird is willing to listen to his ramblings. The two of them are fairly secluded but there is a human town not too far from where the house is. With repeated visits, Phillip begins to make friends of the human variety. Most of the young children think Phillip is cool for having wings. They are also of the opinion that having a giant pig-looking man as a caregiver is impressive. One day on the walk home, the kid in his arm, Phillip looks up at him and opens his mouth. "What's a daddy? Coz- coz I was playing with a girl. Then the man was shouting. She said it was um... it was her 'daddy'. What's that?" "A father." "What's that?" "A male parent. So if you grew up and met a woman then had a baby together, you would be a father. Humans use dad and daddy colloquially." "What's-" "Slang." "Okay." Phillip ponders a moment. "Are you a daddy?" Nether damn you, kid. The god groans. "Yes... I suppose I am something like that to you." "Did you meet a woman?" "Well, Celandine is female and she let me take you home with me after I met her so... in a way." "Celly is a lady daddy." He nods. "That's typically called a mother." After Phillip questions whether the two deities have had a baby other than himself (no, definitely not together and the Blood God has never personally seen the point in siring any brood himself), he descends into further enquiries. It gets to the point the god makes an offhand comment about how he wasn't expecting to deal with a questionnaire today. Phillip responds by asking what a questionnaire is. With all that their conversation entails, it should honestly be counted as a miracle they never touch on the dreaded topic of conception. He does not, however, escape Phillip's gradual shift to a more informal way of addressing him. At least he's not calling him 'Sir' as if it's his actual given name anymore. Over the last few years of parenting, he has learned the quietest moments are the most suspicious ones. If Phillip is not chattering away to himself as he plays in the main room, he is likely running around outside with the wolves or engaging in conversation with Amica. That is to say, he is making noise one way or another. So when the god comes to the realisation he hears nothing on a day in early summer, it is safe to say he is concerned. He discovers Phillip standing on a low branch of a tree. "What are you trying to achieve with this?" The boy glances up. "Oh hi, Daddy. Celly said I was gonna fly. I gotta be 4 or 5 or 6. I'm 4 now so I'm gonna fly now." "I'm not sure it works like that. It's more to do with how large your wings are. They have to be able to support you in the air." "I'm 4." He holds up the appropriate quantity of fingers as if they will emphasise his point. "Celly said my wings are getting super big." That would not be how he would describe the size of those limited things. "They are growing but really, Phillip, you should be careful. I highly doubt you are ready yet." "Watch this." "Don't." He warns. "Get down from there." Phillip grins as if he's thought of the perfect scheme. "Okay!" He leaps from the branch, wings spread out. A second later, an 'oof' of a body hitting the ground is heard. The drop was too short to particularly do any damage (or, in fact, provide enough time for the wings to accept the wind). However, the young boy breaks into a fit of bawling as if he's hurt himself. He's seen stupider injuries over the centuries so a part of the god does not dismiss the possibility Phillip really has caused himself harm as a result of this stunt. Luckily for both of them, it's simply the typical 'small child acting like the most minor inconvenience is the end of the world'. It becomes a long summer of keeping an eye out for Phillip potentially attempting to repeat his actions. Practice may make perfect but the child will never take the skies if he breaks all his bones first. The kid begrudgingly adheres to the rule that he will not perform any flying-related activities without supervision. He often complains that he can't practise flying if he can't jump from a high enough spot to try. The god has none of it. Instead, he suggests the boy flap his wings to imitate flying while standing firm on ground as a better alternative. Phillip becomes a self-declared 'expert' at this soon enough. "Savannah, savannah, savannah." Phillip chants, hopping with his arms raised in an attempt to grab the god's hand. A bag is abandoned by his feet and he continues to pay it no heed in favour of badgering his father. He doesn't know why the child sees the need to jump for it. His current height now has him being not quite the length of one of his legs. Phillip is capable of taking his hand if he so desires by simply lifting it up all the way. "Yes, we are going to the savannah, hold on a minute." They both know the drill by now. In the final week of October, they travel to the house in the midst of the savannah. They return to their forest home as March sees its close. Each time, Phillip must cover up to obscure himself from view as he is carried through the Nether. The Blood God himself has a cloak of his own to further shield the child. This is arguably the first year Phillip is able to walk beside him since he can now reach the god's hand but for the sake of making things easier for everyone, the boy will be held during the trip. Most piglins have no reason to bother him. Even those tasked with helping him manage things from the ground on his behalf seem to have developed an unspoken rule to let him pass undisturbed if the path he takes leads him away from his manor. The moment Phillip is allowed on his feet upon their arrival this year, he sprints to the door. During one afternoon in February, he notices Phillip busy with the swing outside. He doesn't entirely understand the entertainment value in winding it up then spinning but if it amuses the kid then whatever. Amica seems to be keeping him company so that served the god well. He thinks this would be a good time to start carving this acacia wood he has lying around into a blade and handle. Because what 5 year old boy wouldn't want a sword for his birthday? And what god of war and blood wouldn't eagerly anticipate the day he can begin training his protégé properly?

#dream smp #technoblade #philza #kidza #my writing #blood and feathers

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1-800-channie · 3 years

Text

Guardian Angel

PAIRING | Angel Chan & Female Reader

GENRE | Cute / Angst / Suggestive

TYPE | Long Fiction

WC | 5000+ Words

SUMMARY | “After suffering more than you could handle, God sends you a heaven made gift. He sent you a Guardian Angel. His name is Christopher Bang Chan and he is the most handsome creature you have ever laid your eyes on. Will you be able to live with him everyday without any kind of second thoughts? Will Chris be able to take care of you without falling for you? Something tells me that it won’t be. But if, the both of you fall in temptation, there is a punishment that will hurt more than death.”

[Part 1] [Part 2]

(100 Days Left)

Not everyone deserves to have someone look after them. Someone ideal who can prepare dinner after a long day of work, or someone who understands how you feel and will support you no matter what. Surely you weren't one of those people.

God always had his eye on you, especially considering you constantly prayed to him in tears, imploring him to support you in some way. You were extremely exhausted from all the crimes that occurred in your life. The cross was excessively heavy for you; your wasted body couldn't take it anymore.

It all happened on a rainy night. You were working on a recent design for a client. Your body felt all worn out from serving all night and day at the restaurant. Your eyes were burning though you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, not when the design was turning out so well.

As you looked out the sliding window, you noticed that it was raining. The chilly raindrops caused an aesthetic feeling that helped you feel inspired. The only light inside your apartment was from the laptop you were currently using. Outside however, the only source of light you saw was the stroke of lightning from the dark sky that alarmed you.

Ever since you were a young girl you had a fear of lightning. However, now that you were an adult, you couldn’t let it distract you no more, you had to continue working. You did your best to ignore the strokes of lightning outside as you continued to distract yourself for a little longer.

As your eyes carefully analysed the finished product, your mind wandered somewhere else. You remembered how you used to live in your hometown with your parents in a humble environment while working on a company of Web Design, something you studied for. The boss loved your hardworking and creative self. Therefore, when he got the chance, he gave you the main seat at the table of the company, in Seoul.

In about a month or so you moved to the massive city of Seoul. It was unusual for you, so many people and so much noise. It was recent, but after some time you became used to the weirdness. You lived in a magnificent apartment, five minutes away from work, which was thankfully paid for by the company.

Everything was going completely fine until the boss invested in the wrong company. When that company went down, the company you were working for also went down, causing your boss to be bankrupted.

That's when your world came crashing down. You lost the apartment you were staying in because it was way too overpriced for you to afford alone, and you didn't even have a place to work. To make things worse, your parents were going through a tough time back in your hometown, and you had sent them the money you had saved, leaving you with just a couple hundred dollars.

You were alone and lost in an enormous city. You had no place to sleep or work. You felt miserable and lost as you cried yourself to sleep for several days, sleeping on some cardboards that the people were throwing away.

You were tired of sleeping on the ground, on the fourth day, you summoned up some unknown energy and went to a public bathroom, where you showered and prepared yourself to find a new job.

You spent all day running around, walking from coffee shop to coffee shop. From one restaurant to another. By seven your body was exhausted. Especially because you didn't eat all day, so you sat down on the road.

Finally the answer to your prayers were heard. An elderly lady saw you miserably sitting down on the dirty ground and helped you walk inside her small restaurant. It smelled of rice cakes and kimchi and you liked it.

The eldery woman’s name was Kim Sohyun and she was eighty years old. But don’t be fooled by her age, she was fast and didn't stop moving. She always found something to do at the restaurant, even when it was as empty as a parking lot at night. Out of genuine kindness, she gave you some food and a place to stay. The apartment you stayed in was from her daughter that left Korea to go abroad and never talked to her mom again.

After that day, you took care of that adorable lady, learned how to cook and even started cleaning for her.

You smiled at the thought of the lady Kim Sohyun. As your mind came back to the present when you read the name of the person that asked you for the design, you got shy. He is a starting rapper by the name of Changbin. He had pretty brown eyes and a cute laugh that made your heart flutter.

When he told you he trusted you with his first album cover design you hugged him tightly, which caught him off guard, but he didn't mind. Not when it came to you. Changbin was around for a while before asking you to work for him. He knew your story, and you knew his.

A sudden loud bang echoed inside your silent apartment shocking you.Then suddenly everything was dark. It took you a while to recognize what happened, but as soon as you noticed that the power went off panic took over your small body.

Your computer is quite old and only works plugged to the electricity. Since the power went off, it means your computer is dead. Tears started to form at the corners of your exhausted eyes... All the work you already had done… Was gone.

The design you had been working on for days was totally gone.

You fell on your knees on the wood floor violently. Your frame curled up in a ball as you sobbed quietly, trying your best not to be too noisy and scare Lady Sohyun that is sleeping.

Now the only sounds audible from the inside were your sobs, and from the outside, the rain that started to calm down.

God, decided to reward you from being loyal and strong and sent someone to save you.

You didn't see it, but it was something so magical and special. There was an angel standing in front of you. His body was muscular and well proportioned, radiating light.

You noticed something was wrong from all the sudden brightness that escaped from between your fingers as you covered your eyes. And just like the curiosity killed the cat, you screamed so loud that you are afraid it woke half of the city.

In front of you, there was an absurd creature. His body was perfectly built, muscles visible on his pale body. His face was so magical that you were afraid that you had died and went to paradise. Golden hair, gloomy eyes, plump crimson lips, and a prominent nose. His frame was only covered by a thin cover that went from his shoulder to his waist, secured by a charming gold belt. His feet bare.

“What-what are you doing here?” You question getting off the wooden floor and taking a few steps back, startled.

“I'm your guardian angel, YN.” The creature explains, his voice low and noble. “Don’t be afraid…I'm here to take care of you.”

You stare at him with burning cheeks and uncertain eyes. Curiosity consuming you alive. You walk towards him slowly. He was so pure and bright, almost unreal. Something heaven-made.

“Can I touch you?” You ask innocently, just to make sure he is real.

“Go ahead, YN-ah.” The angels respond with a genuine smile.

Your fingertips were trembling as you caressed his cheek. The angel flinched because of your cold fingertips, scaring you for a few moments. His skin was silky and he felt genuine. His hair was also soft, but a bit dry and he smelled like nature. The scent was so different that you couldn't explain it. It prompted you with comfort.

“Oh my…” You confessed impressively. “I don’t have money to buy you food, and I don't have a place for you to sleep in… I'm sorry. I think you should go back to… hm… Heaven?” You say, confused. The beautiful angel laughs.

“YN, I don’t need to eat or sleep. I'm here to be your company, help you when you need it, take care of you.” Your mouth opens in a ‘O’ shape and you nod your head. Deep inside, you were still confused and uncertain.

“Hmmm, I think I'm going to sleep now. Could you, hm, not look at me? While I try to fall asleep?” Your cheeks were reddening again. The angel looks at you with love and accepts.

You lay down on your bed and cover your body, hiding completely. Your brain quickly tried to be reasonable and tells you that this was just a dream. Maybe you hit your head and passed out. Too scared to know the truth, you didn’t get out of the covers. As time slowly passed, you silently fell asleep.

It's cute how the next morning you wake up with your blankets almost falling off the bed and an amazing smell of eggs, toasts, and pancakes.

That's odd. Miss. Kim Sohyun never prepared your breakfast before.The weirdest thing was she didn't have these kind of ingredients. As you walked to the small kitchen, yawning and gently rubbing your sleepy eyes, there was a bare back facing you. You screamed, startled.

“Oh, good morning Y/N, did you sleep well?” The man asked, placing a glass of orange juice on the table.

“I thought it was all a dream…” You said to yourself, facing the floor, twisting your hair in annoyance.

“It’s not. I’m here to take care of you…” You stared at him, seriously. That was the first time he made your heart flutter.

After ten awkward minutes of him washing the dishes that were on the sink from yesterday, curiosity took the best of you:

“What's your name, Angel?” You asked, admiring his sturdy back. He laughed silently, then he jerked his head towards you.

“Oh right, how impolite. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Christopher Bang Chan. I’m a mixture of Korean and Australian. I was moving to Korea when the plane I was in had a problem and crashed. I died there, I was twenty years old. This is why I still look like this and not older.” The last part, he narrated to you while facing the plates he was washing, avoiding your gaze.

“I'm so sorry…” You said in a low voice.

"It 's ok love. Everything happens for a reason…” Christopher says with a tender smile. “Now” He started talking again, finishing up with the plates. “You go to take a shower, and then get ready to work, I’ll clean the kitchen.” You looked at him surprised but did as he said.

“Wait, what will you do all day?” You asked, interested.

“I'll clean your house, try to fix your computer and then pray. Don’t worry about me, ok?” You nodded again, trying to be obedient.

( 90 Days Left)

As time went by you bought him some ‘human’ clothes, so he looked ordinary and you could walk around with him by your side. Chris, as you like to call him, looked handsome on the outfits you carefully pick him.

The truth was that his presence was now normal to you. Every time you opened your door, you greet the charming Angel, that's usually in the modern kitchen, cooking you dinner. Usually, after dinner, you washed the dishes while you obligated him to sit down and rest for a bit.

( 80 Days Left)

After a tedious day of work, you ate a delicious dinner and went straight to the bathroom to take a warm shower. When you were done, you sat comfortably on your downy bed while Chris brushed your hair. Usually while he did it, you informed him about your day, and today was no different. As his bony fingers grazed over your scalp trying not to willingly hurt when he was brushing harder, you eagerly told him about Changbin.

“He may seem to be a bit mean at first. He always wears black clothes… his makeup is always perfectly made. I'm jealous sometimes. His voice is nice because he can make it deep and serious or high pitched and girly to piss me off.” You giggled while remembering Binnie’s jokes from that today.

“That man seems important to you…” Chris stated with a gentle smile, even though something sparkled inside him. Could he be jealous of that man for being so close to you?

“Hmmmm, not as important as you.” You say positively and then turn your body so you could confront the timid boy sitting in the middle of your bed.

Chris looked at the white blanket that was resting on his legs as he played with his fingers. Did you just say that? Is he that important to you? The Angel was biting his bottom lip nervously. His heart was racing like crazy and you could almost hear it calling your name.

You moved closer to him, enough so when you extended your arm, your soft hand would cup his cheek. Chan immediately stared at you, trying to understand what were you going to do next.

A voice in your head woke you up and made you pull your hand away, suddenly feeling shy. Maybe Chris can’t feel love for someone, maybe not the same way humans do. And you were afraid of scaring him. An uncomfortable silence involves the both of you and you sign, closing your eyes and trying to calm down the urge to cry.

The truth is he makes you feel some type of way. His eyes seem to light up and turn brighter every time he sees you. Chris would carefully listen to all your complaining or sad words. His lips would turn to an adorable pout when you were bossing him around. His hugs were warm and safe, and you felt protected on them. His laugh was so innocent and contagious and also mentioning he has such a pure heart, filled with love only. The angel made you feel special and loved… You were getting attached to it.

You didn't want to admit it to him or yourself. Maybe you were starting to feel something for him. It was wrong. You and he could never be together, because he was your guardian angel, not your lover.

“I think… I'll go to sleep.” You said after being lost on your melancolic thoughts for too long.

“Oh, hm, ok… But you seem sad. What's wrong?” Chan politely questioned while getting off the comfy bed so you could lay down. Your hands felt unsteady, your stomach was aching in an unusual way.

“Nothing you can fix.” You coldly explained, intentionally trying to push him away. You needed some time alone.

“Oh… Ok. I'll be praying in the kitchen if you require me.” Chris winks at you. “Good Night, Love.” You bite your lip to stop the tears from slipping out. That damn nickname.

You tried to sleep. You did, but your heart was beating too fast and you couldn't stop thinking about his lips. Chris's lips were so plump and inviting, they seemed so soft and plush, so kissable…

Chan peaked at you, and noticed how restless you were, he approached you:

“Y/N, let me try to help you. Please, you don’t need to talk about it. I'll just be there for you.” The Angel insists, sitting by your side on your bed.

“Ok ok… I only accept because it's hard for me to sleep, and I have work tomorrow.” You finally gave in. Chan felt grateful, this was something he wanted for a while and was too shy to ask you.

You lay down on the bed again, closing your eyes and snuggling inside the warm covers. Chris was shy, but it was worth it. Chan lays down on the bed, under the covers and gets closer to you. Uncertain. His arm rested on your waist as he pushed you a little further against his chest.

Chan wanted to cuddle you. You smiled as an adorable blush painted your cheeks. He was warmer than the heavy covers, his embrace so safe and comfortable that you never wanted him to leave.

The Angel was feeling the same, shy but happy. Your body felt so tiny between his protective arms. He desperately wished to hold you forever because, somehow, you felt like home. Chan was scared, afraid of how he was starting to feel for the charming girl he had to look after. He loves to admire the way your smile gets wider when he makes a joke; how you get mad at him when he does everything at home alone and how pretty you look without even trying.

What if he fell for you?

( 70 Days Left)

“Chris come here…” You whined in the bathroom, your bandana was stuck in your hair and if you tried to pull it, it would most likely rip all your hair off.

The tall man came inside the bathroom in a rush, worried that something may have happened to you.

“What’s wrong, Love?” His melodious voice asked, admiring your grumpy face that reflected on the small, old mirror.

“My hair is tangled, and it hurts if I pull it. Please, help me.” You begged with puppy eyes, noticing how he changed from worried to relaxed in seconds.

The Angel walked behind you, and his slender fingers started to work on your messy hair. You could feel the warmth his body was radiating from behind you. His smell changed, because he was now using your body wash and shampoo. The smell of vanilla was amazing, you liked it in your skin, but when it came to him… It was special.

Chris was shaking, his fingers were uncertain and trembling. His breathing was uneasy and his legs felt like jelly. He could notice easily how you were biting your bottom lip, a cute pink blush on your cheeks and every time his fingers brushed against your sensitive neck, a long breath would leave your sensual lips.

The atmosphere inside the bathroom was starting to heat up, both of you not being able to control their body language and it was obvious. So obvious that both of you were crazy in love with each other.

“Done…” He said, his voice loud but shaky. Chris immediately called himself stupid for showing you that he is feeling flustered, but you just give him a soft smile and turned around, taking your bandana out of his hands and getting out of the bathroom in a rush, trying to calm yourself down.

You walked close to your window and opened it, feeling the cold breeze hitting your face and calming your heated body. Your heart was beating fastly and you were too timid to look Chris in the eyes.

The way he made you feel is not possible, you can’t feel like that. Though his eyes were so pretty, his lips were so inviting and his heart was pure gold… How could you stop yourself from feeling that way? A sudden call for your name made you come back to reality.

You walked to the front door and opened it. The kind woman that gave you a shelter was there, with a light mad expression:

“My oven is a mess, Hun, i didn't want to bother you on a Sunday but i need help with it.” She explained shaking her head in disappointment. “Could you please get downstairs and clean it?” She asked, her voice hopeful.

“Yes, i can do it. Give me just five minutes and i'll be there.” You smiled politely, she took your hands in hers and smiled, secretly, she was very grateful for you.

You got back inside the small place and called for Chris. He showed up with red eyes, like he was crying but he simply smiled at you, while making you sign with his hand for you to go help Miss Sohyun.

You did so, your heart beating fast once again, but this time because you know, something was up with the angel and you know he will never tell you what's wrong.

( 60 Days Left)

Some days passed by and you and Chris slept in the same bed together every day. Even him, that affirmed he didn't need to sleep, would get lost in your warmth and fall asleep. Cute little snores invading the bedroom and you couldn't stop giggling, from how precious he looked.

As your eyes scanned your window you noticed that outside was dark, despite being 9 am, it was raining. The heavy raindrops were hitting your window in the most deliciously, making you feel lazy. You looked back at Chris one last time and got off the bed, ready to prepare him a surprise for the first time.

At the kitchen you heated some milk and prepared some toasts that you filled with Nutella. You also picked up some grapes, just how you know he liked it. After a couple of minutes, everything was prepared on the table. There was: a candle with no smell lighted; some white napkins; the amazing toasts with Nutella; the grapes were washed and fresh; and the chocolate was already on the milk, turning out to warm chocolate what you know he will love.

You walked back to your bedroom to find him sleeping on his back, his face turned to the left as his hands rested inside his t-shirt, making it rise and show his toned chest. Immediately you blushed but weren't able to take your eyes out of him. You blamed the covers because they were all messy at the bottom of the bed.

“Chris~” You whispered, sitting next to his body on the bed. The angel just shifted a little in his sleep and reached out for you, pulling you by your waist to lay next to him.

You were biting your lip to stop the gasp that almost escaped your lips from the sudden action. The next thing he did was cling to you, one of his legs rested on top of yours and his head moved to rest on your collar bones, giving you access to his scalp easily.

Christopher was adorable, and you couldn't deny it, especially because he was making you feel things, things you couldn't explain. Your fingers started to massage his scalp and that woke him up.

“Keep doing that…” His lips escaped, but it sounded more like a moan. You continued it for a while, feeling him get relaxed under your touch. Softly you felt his fingers make subtle touches on your stomach, making goosebumps take over your body.

“Smells so nice… Did you prepare something?” He asked getting off of you. You pouted, feeling cold without his body there to warm you.

“Oh, yes. I made breakfast! I was almost forgetting about it!” You are the first to get out of the bed, and then grab gently his hand and pull him to the kitchen.

“Woah.” He gasped. “You didn't have to. You know i don't need to eat…” Chris reminded you, laughing awkwardly.

“Oh…” You said embarrassed. “I forgot it…” You looked at the floor, your anxiety eating you alive.

Chris walked silently towards you and, with his slender fingers, pushed your chin up. Causing you face him. Your eyes found his almost immediately and you found yourself blushing because of that simple action. In his mind, he would take you right there, kiss your lips and get rid of this stupid feeling consuming him every time he was close to you.

“What you did was sweet and i appreciate it, Love.” He whispered. “I will eat some because you made them with so much care, ok?” You nodded, too embarrassed to say anything.

Chris always does this, makes you hope he would finally make a move and then, he leaves you hanging.

( 50 Days Left)

It all started as a good day, the sun was shining brightly outside, besides the cold wind that made your hair a mess. Chris passed out next to you when you woke up, one of his legs still tangled with yours and his nose was close to your ear, making you hear his not-so-cute snores.

You decided to get up without bothering him, you ate something that was in your fridge and wrote him a small letter telling him not to prepare lunch because you weren't going to eat at home.

At work, Changbin was talking to you, and distracting you so much that you didn't notice the new couple that got inside the restaurant. Due to that they got mad for taking so long to take their order.

Of course, the old lady you work for was mad at you, and as a punishment prohibited Bin from coming to the restaurant for one week. You apologized with teary eyes, the guilt swallowing you alive. You stayed the rest of the day hidden inside the kitchen, as the old lady worked as a waitress today.

A cup accidentally slipped from your hand and broke into million pieces as it hit the floor.

She was mad at you again, telling you that she doesn't know what's up with you today, and she couldn't understand why you were so slow today. When she decided it was time to close the restaurant, you noticed it was raining outside.

Since you live just across the street you didn't mind it, but a car passed in front of you when you were sprinting home, making the water on the road hit you and go everywhere making you soaked.

The tears in your eyes were held back by your angriness, but as soon as you saw Chris' angelic face you broke down in tears on the spot. You fell on your knees while hiding your face between your hands.

“What's wrong, my love?” The Angel asked concerned, but you were too busy sobbing to answer him. “You’re soaked, what happened?”

This time you took a glance at him, red and puffy eyes.

“It was a car. As I was waiting to cross the street he passed on the splash on the street and soaked me from head to toe.”

Chris giggled little from your choice of yours but tried to hide his smile so you wouldn't feel bad.

“Come on, let's take a hot bath to make you feel better, alright?” You nodded, tiredly getting off of your knees and walking to your cold bathroom.

Chris started to take care of the water, letting it fill the bathtub as you stripped of your wet clothes.

“When you are done washing your body tell me because I'll be there to wash your hair and give you a light massage on the scalp and shoulders… ok-” He interrupted himself because on his way out of the bathroom he caught you only in your underwear. A blush decorated your face as his curious eyes stared at you shamelessly.

“Could you… hmm… stop… staring?” You awkwardly asked, trying to cover yourself.

“I'm sorry, you are beautiful. I couldn't contain myself.” He apologized, then shifted his gaze to his hands, too nervous to face you.

When he finally closed the door behind him you relieved a long sign. You got rid of your underwear quickly, and dived inside the warm water. As the sound of the rain outside reflected inside your small bathroom, you cried.

Your body was overwhelmed with so many emotions that you could not explain. Chris noticed your almost inaudible sobs and waited patiently until you calmed done to knock on the wooden door:

“May i come in? To wash your hair for you?” He asked in a low voice.

“Yes, you may.” You answered some minutes after, trying to calm your heartbeat down.

He was going to be washing your hair, as you stayed naked underwater. Chris gets inside without making any noise and knees down on the floor, in front of the bathtub as you let your back hit the board and force your head back, so he could have access to it.

The angel’s hands were magical and we're making you feel much better. The way he patiently washed your hair almost made you fall asleep on the spot. After your hair was clean, you strained your back and waited for him to pour water on you, so the shampoo would get off.

Chris was feeling something inside him he didn't know he could. He wanted to touch you, feel every inch of you under his fingertips. He wanted to kiss you passionately as his hands roamed over your beautiful body.

He was only facing your back, but he felt his body heat up and something getting weirdly hard on his pants. He had to ignore it? But the moan you left as soon as his fingers came in contact with your scalp once again made him call your name:

“Y/N, please. I can't take it anymore…” You turned off the water and turned around, not caring about him being able to see your chest, that had some shampoo on them.

“Chris, i can't do this either…” You whispered, staring at him in the eyes.

Even though his body was screaming for him to look at your nude chest, he kept eye contact with you as he got closer to you. It was now or never, the perfect moment to kiss you.

Christopher’s lips were softer than you thought, and you wanted to bite them. His heart-shaped lips molded perfectly with yours and complimented them.

They were pressed up against yours on a long peck that made you frustrated. So, tired of it, you grabbed his face between your small hands and forced him stronger against your mouth. Chan seemed to get the message, and his tongue came in contact with your bottom lip, trying to deepen the kiss.

When you finally felt his tongue against yours you moaned shamelessly, to lost in the feeling to care. He felt perfect for you, he felt like he was made for you… Why did you hold back, when you could have been kissing these lovely lips every day, all day?!

Your lips parted because of the absence of oxygen, and the smile that was displayed on his lips made your heart flutter. Something inside you yelled that he may feel the same for you, from more crazy that it seems.

“I'll wait for you in the kitchen, ok Love?” The Angel suddenly asked, getting up. He was trying his hardest to avoid your chest, but it was stronger than him. Chan got a glimpse of them as he closed the door, but it was enough to make the situation even harder for him.

What both of you didn't know is that what is given, can be taken back as well. Since the both of you committed a sin, The Gifter couldn't be more sure that he had to make the angel stay away from you as soon as possible.

A/N: Hello beautiful Stars! I know it's been a while, but I am back. Since I'm starting all over again, I decided to make a special first post. This fic was resting in my drafts all year, unfinished.

I finally finished it and I'm very happy for finally posting it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved to write it.

Before I go, I need to give a special thanks to @xiaojunssmile for helping me revising my work. I appreciate you a lot, you are the best. I love you ❤

Rebloggs, likes and comments are always appreciate it. Thank you.

Happy 2021. I hope your new year comes with Heath and lots of love ❤✨

#stray kids #kpop #bang chan #chan #stray kids chan #chris bang #stray kids bang chan #bang chan smut #leader chan #skz chan

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gothgirlmahi · 4 years

Text

Pathetic

Dark!Carol Danvers x Reader

Summary: Carol is your boss who has a thing for you. You just want to keep your job.

For @sagechanoafterdark‘s Afterdark 2K Challenge Prompt: “Don’t even think about it.” Warnings: non con, mommy kink, humiliation and degradation

“Hey, Ms. Danvers is calling for you,” one of your coworkers told you.

You wanted to slam your head into your desk. Of course you knew she wanted you in her office. She had texted you, saying she wanted you there earlier so you turned off your phone just to get some peace of mind. It would make her angry but it wasn’t like she was going to drag you from your desk. Probably not, anyway.

Now she was getting other people involved, which you really didn’t want. You gave your coworker a nod and began to clear up your space. It was nearly time to go home anyway and you had almost gotten through a day without her. Almost.

You and Carol were in a particular situation. She wasn’t just your boss, this was her company. It ran the way she wanted it to and everyone did what she said with no questions asked. Her temper was quick to flare up when she didn’t get what she wanted so you hurried on your way to the elevator.

It started out with her slapping your ass as you left her office for the first time. You could hardly process what happened and as soon as you turned around she was slamming the door shut. The next time was her casually groping you in an empty hallway, pinching your nipples, telling you how pretty you were and how wet she was thinking about you. It had become a habit of hers to harass you whenever and wherever she saw fit.

That was months ago. It only got worse as time went on. It wasn’t just at work anymore, she wanted more. Carol would take you out to expensive restaurants you couldn’t dream of affording, buy you clothes with price tags that had more zeros than you were comfortable with and make you stay the night with her at her house. That would sound like a dream to a lot of people, but not to you. You liked your job, this was what you had gone to school for and being able to do it fulfilled you. Carol was the only thing you didn’t like about work and it wasn’t like you could just quit. At the very least you’d never find work in this city again and you thought her influence probably went even further than that. If you made her upset she had the power to ruin your life in a matter of minutes.

“I’ll quit,” you lied to her. You wouldn’t.

“You won’t.”

“I’ll tell someone.”

“Don’t even think about it. It’s a waste of time. You think they’ll believe you?”

So you stayed and did what she wanted no matter how humiliating it got. And she loved to humiliate you. You knew people would talk about why you got called to her office so often. Comments about how inept you must be, office conspiracies about how you might get fired and your all time favorite theory: you guys were fucking on company time. Never in your life did you think you’d be the subject of gossip like that, especially not in a professional environment and especially when there was truth to the rumors. Life had really taken a turn for the worse and yet this was probably still the best option you had.

When you reached the top floor of the building, you took a breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. Carol’s assistant gave you a fake smile but didn’t say anything further as you headed down the hallway. Her door was cracked and you stepped in silently, just to see her pacing the room and talking to someone on the phone. Carol was dressed to kill, as usual, with her immaculately pressed blazer, matching skirt and heels so high you were in pain just looking at them. She looked you up and down once before stepping across the room to stare out of the floor to ceiling windows behind her desk.

“Whatever. Just get it done. I have a meeting right now.” She hung up the phone.

When she turned back to you, you were leaned against the closed door, nervously fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve.

“Look at my pretty girl wearing the dress I bought her,” Carol said, with that ever present smirk on her face. She was smug, like she always knew what was going to happen because she was in charge and reveling in it.

“You told me to wear it,” you murmured quietly. She exhaled a small laugh.

“And you listened because you’re a pathetic little bitch. Isn’t that right?”

You were silent, staring down at your shoes as tears began to well in your eyes.

“Answer me,” she demanded.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’m a pathetic little bitch,” your voice cracked at the end as you sobbed and Carol beckoned you over. A few unsteady steps had you right in front of her where she pulled you into her arms.

“Don’t cry, baby. You’re such a good girl for mommy. Now get undressed for me.”

She let go of you, pushing you back a bit so she could look at you properly. You reached behind yourself to catch the zipper of your dress and slid it down. The dress dropped to pool at your feet and you stepped out, reaching back again to unclasp your bra. Carol was staring at you, much like a predator does their prey, while gently biting her lip.

You pulled the clasp free and let your bra fall to the floor before quickly pulling off your panties as well.

Carol was on you instantly. Her hands roved over you, squeezing and touching every place she could. Her lips pressed to a little spot just below your ear and you let out an unconscious gasp. You could feel her smile into your skin. One of her hands tweaked and pulled at your nipple while the other slid down, passing over your abdomen with fleeting touches and cupping your most sensitive area.

She gave a lick to the shell of your ear before pulling back.

“You’re so fucking pretty.“

Carol began to methodically undress, pulling each piece off and gently setting it to lay across her chair. While she did so, you were briefly caught staring out the window. You always wondered if the people in the next building could see you, if they knew the things that happened in here. The shame of it pulled heat to your cheeks and you looked at the floor.

“You’re looking in the right place. Get on your knees and lick my cunt.”

Carol was perched on the edge of her desk with her legs spread and waiting for you. You knelt on the ground with the rough carpet digging into your bare knees. You embarrassingly crawled the rest of the way to her, just how she liked. Your face was inches away from her pussy, pink and dripping for you.

Carol’s hands slid into your hair and she pushed your face into her cunt, grinding down and smearing her juices across your mouth and cheeks. When she was done you slid your tongue out, giving a lick to her clit and her body jolted with pleasure before she pulled you closer again. Your open mouth pressed into her cunt.

With your hands resting on her thighs, you swirled your tongue around her clit, doing your best to get her off. She moaned above you, eyes gently closing as she rode your face.

“Fuck. That pretty little mouth is so good. You like the taste of my cunt, baby?”

You nodded from between her legs, pulling away from her clit and pushing your tongue into her. She groaned while you lapped up her slick.

“Good little bitch. You’re gonna make me cum. Fuck, mommy’s gonna come on your pretty face.”

Her grip on your hair tightened when your tongue danced over her clit. You took the little bundle of nerves into your mouth and sucked as hard as you could. Carol let out a loud moan she she came, with her juices dripping out and spreading across your face. When she was done, she pushed you away from her roughly.

She laughed darkly as she watched you on the floor.

“I knew you were good for something. Now bend over my desk.”

“Carol, please just let me go back to work,” you begged her. She looked thoughtful.

“If you bend over and you’re not wet, I’ll let you go.”

You hung your head with humiliation burning through you. You were wet and Carol knew as much. She smiled at your resignation and pulled you up, pressing your top half against the expensive mahogany. A few harsh swats came down on your backside and you whimpered in pain.

Carol pushed two fingers into you, massaging your generously lubricated walls.

“Aww. You’re adorable. You don’t even know what you want. It’s okay. Mommy’s gonna make you feel good.”

She pushed in deeper, pressing directly against your g spot. Your back arched off the table and she pushed you back down with one hand. Her fingers took up a vicious pace inside you and you hated that she knew exactly how to touch you, exactly how to make you squirm for her.

“Good little slut. I know you love my fingers deep in your pretty pussy.”

She slid in another finger in her unrelenting pace before taking the hand that was holding your down and snaking it around to press against your clit and drawing her fingers in tight circles. The obscenely wet noises coming from your pussy only spurred your arousal on further.

You felt a familiar pressure building in your abdomen and you wanted to squirm away from her.

“Carol, stop. P-please.”

“I can’t. Not when you look so good under me. You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me. I want your messy little cunt to squirt all over me.”

“No! Stop!”

“Cum for me, bitch!”

You were absolutely mindless as you came. Your body tensed up and shook while your pussy spasmed around her fingers. You tried to grind further against her hand on your clit and she obliged, pressing harder against you. An embarrassing gush of fluid came out of you, soaking Carol’s wrist and up her forearm. Even after you were done and Carol and pulled her hand out of you, you were still shaking.

She walked around her desk, pulling out a little towel and wiping her hand off.

“I heard my baby girl might be getting a promotion soon. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Carol asked.

“Yes.” You could barely form a sentence but you managed to mutter a reply.

“This weekend when we go out, if you’re a good girl, I’ll fuck you with the strap on. You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Carol.” She started redressing herself but you didn’t trust your shaky legs enough to move yet.

“One final thing, when you go home, send me a video of you touching yourself. I might need some inspiration while I’m working late.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“My good little whore.”

#dark marvel #Dark Fic #dark!carol #dark carol danvers #carol danvers #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #afterdark2kchallenge

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multisfabulis · 3 years

Text

Land’s Trust in Light

Building the Foundation (Chapter 2/6)

Word Count: 4080

The writing process for this chapter went as followed: I meant to start writing this in March, spent all of it stuck in brainrot, began writing and finishing the rough draft over the course of 10 days, and wrote the official version in less than a week. How in the hell I managed to still have something out this month, I have no clue.

I think this is the second most "plotless" chapter of this story, if only because this is meant to build up the friendship between Eric and Ferreth while having the plot be served as an appetizer in the beginning. I say second most, because the next chapter, I believe, will be the one, due to the plot taking a backseat but there is a hint to a future element that will be present in the overarching story so keep a look out for that!

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Eric knocked on the door before needing to stifle another yawn. It was mid-morning in Thornewind, though he could hardly tell with the immense shadow cast over the town by the mountains. Despite everything being shrouded in almost complete darkness, he saw people setting up shop and beginning their day on his way over to Bris’ place. His memory seemed to be on point today, even with the handicap. Things were already looking to be better than Brinegarde’s visit.

God, was he tired. Another yawn fell past his lips before he could think to stop it and he felt his eyes droop for just a second. His lack of restful sleep wasn’t from discomfort or a sudden spike of anxiety in the late night. It was simply the matter of being away from home and sleeping in an unfamiliar environment. It’s happened so often by now, it’s become an expectation he’s resigned to. It could be worse; he could be passed out and fall off the stoop of the windmill. Now he could only hope no one noticed his sluggish disposition and draw attention to it.

The door swung open and he forced himself to stand up straight. He had it drilled into his head to have good posture, which meant no slouching. It’d be rude to appear as someone unbefitting of his station to lords and their attendants. He couldn’t afford to risk losing the alliance because of his sloppiness. Instead of Aissyl being the one to greet him, it was Bris.

“Good morning!” That woke him up, if his quickening heart was anything to go by. “How’d you sleep last night?”

“Uh, good morning,” he replied with a nervous laugh. “I slept okay last night, nothing special or anything.”

The bright grin on Bris’s face dropped and he asked in concern, “Mm, really? You look pretty tired to me.”

Why was he like an open book? He tried to explain it in a way that didn’t seem pathetic like, “No, I’m fine, really. It’s just, I don’t travel far from home often and I tend to not sleep very well on trips.”

“We can pick this up tomorrow or another day, if you want.”

“No, no, it’ll be fine, really! Honestly, I work better when I’m sleep-deprived so I’ll be okay.”

With a slight grimace, he stepped aside and said, “Well, all right, come on in and let’s get started then.”

Upon entering, he immediately noticed two things. The first was that one of the chairs he remembered being off to the side yesterday was gone. The other was of a savory aroma wafting around the room, making his mouth water. It emanated from a plate of freshly baked scones sitting on the center of the low table.

“You’re welcome to try some if you want, Aissyl made ‘em.” He jumped some at Bris’s voice. He must’ve caught him staring.

“Oh, um, thank you,” he stammered out, flashing him a nervous smile before grabbing a hot scone.

When was the last time he ate a scone? He knew it had been years and it smelled just like the ones back home. He took a tentative bite and he felt his knees go weak, that’s how delicious it was. He finished off the rest in quick succession, his hunger satiated by a small amount. He forgot to eat breakfast before coming here so having something in his stomach helped wake him up some.

“I’ll make sure to tell her you enjoyed them.” As he went to grab more, Bris headed inside his office. “Now let’s not waste any more time.”

Eric followed behind him, warm scones in hand. Just as he thought, the missing chair from the lounge was sitting in front of the desk for him to settle down in. However, there was something different about the desk. A teal tablecloth laid in the center with a dark blue design embroidered in the middle. It was a hexagonal shape with gladiolus flowers crawling up the sides and its petals being blown away by the wind. That must be Thornewind’s emblem, since he remembered seeing similar symbols in Brinegarde and Aurora Zenith. He wondered if the other three towns he planned on visiting at some point had emblems as well.

Once the scones were eaten, he and Bris began the meeting. He was glad to see the discussion on both sides going much more smoothly than they had between him and Lianthorne. Bris was open to compromise and he spoke in an easy to understand way, which he greatly appreciated. Their talk lasted for a couple or so hours before they agreed on the terms the other man set. With that, Aurora Zenith and Thornewind were now officially allies.

He glanced towards the window to see the sun shining through the curtains. He must’ve been so engrossed in their discussion, he didn’t notice the darkness giving way to light. Covering his mouth with a hand to let out a yawn, he looked back at Bris and that’s when he saw it.

His chin was resting against the back of his hand as his eyes seemed fixed on nothing in particular. He was tapping a finger on the surface of the desk as if he were lost in thought over something. This gave Eric a knot of anxiety. Had he committed a mistake that already threw their alliance into jeopardy?

Before he could open his mouth, Bris looked him in the eye and asked suddenly, “Hey, Eric, would you be willing to hear me out on something?”

“Um, yeah, what is it?” he replied, hoping his nerves couldn’t be heard in his voice.

“Well, here’s the thing, I need time to figure out how I’m going to tell you this. It’s something I haven’t really thought out yet and I need to decide on whether or not I’m going to go through with it. When do you plan on leaving?”

“I-I was thinking in 3 days’ time but I can stay longer if---”

“No, no, that’s plenty of time, I should have a decision by then. It’s just…” Bris pushed back his hair and exhaled. “This is an important matter I have to think on and consider fully before I do something I might regret.”

“No, I understand. I’m just more worried if this has anything to do with the business we were discussing.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, we’re fine on that front. This is separate from that.”

He silently let out a sigh of relief. Whatever this thing Bris had to mull over was, it was comforting to know it had nothing to do with him. Still, he was curious on what Bris needed to tell him. It did, however, remind him of when Lianthorne tried to bribe him with Ven’s safety and he hoped this wasn’t going to go that route. A life should never be used as a bargaining chip.

“Anyway--” he sat back in his chair-- “when I’ve decided on telling you, I’ll send Aissyl out to come get you. Moving on from that, you have any plans for today?”

Putting the matter to rest for now, he replied, “Uh, no, I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Do you want a tour of Thornewind then?” Bris asked, standing up from his desk to stretch. “Ferreth said you seemed taken in by everything when he stumbled upon you yesterday.”

They must’ve met back up after dropping him off at the inn. He cringed at the idea of what that might’ve looked like to a stranger. “Well, Thornewind is a beautiful town so it’s no surprise I got sidetracked.”

“Then it’s settled, I’ll go get Aissyl.” He started walking around the desk and out towards the threshold of the room.

Following right behind him, he said hurriedly, “Y-you don’t have to do that! I don’t want to take her away from her duties and---”

“She should be getting back from running errands right about now so…”

It was when he tried to stop Bris from going out Aissyl walked in. All he could do was stand there awkwardly as the situation was explained to her, wishing he was anywhere but there right now. She said she had plans for the day, granting him some temporary relief before she pulled the rug out from under him by suggesting Ferreth to be his escort. With Bris’s agreement all but sealing the deal, he was left sitting on the stoop outside while Aissyl went to retrieve Ferreth.

A heavy sigh escaped his mouth as he leaned back to watch the sky. In his attempts to not cause trouble for one person, he might’ve led some to another one’s doorstep. He could only hope he wasn’t hanging Ferreth out to dry with a client of his. Although, he was admittedly looking forward to spending more time with him today. He enjoyed his company yesterday so this might be considered a blessing.

Eventually, Aissyl arrived with Ferreth in tow. They didn’t seem displeased at first glance but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe it was better to err on the side of caution and only let his guard down when everything was all right. He could never be too careful.

He walked down the stairs, gripping the strap of his bag tightly in his hands. The knot of anxiety returned with a vengeance as his heart hammered against his ribs. Just keep calm and breathe, he repeated like a mantra in his head.

“I’ll be leaving Lord Travere in your hands,” he heard Aissyl say before bowing and taking her leave, wincing at her referring to him as lord. He knew she was being polite, he just hated being called by formal titles.

Ferreth, blissfully ignorant to his unease, said in a joking manner, “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to be seeing you again so soon after yesterday. You miss me?”

“Listen, I’m so sorry about all this,” the words spilled out as he continued, “if I’m taking up any of your time, I’ll just go back to the inn and---”

“Eric.” Hearing his name startled him some. “It’s fine, all right? As you guessed yesterday, my work allows me lots of free time and I’m choosing to spend some of that free time with you. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Doing the exact opposite of that, he shakily replied with, “I’ll try my best not to.”

He turned away from him and cupped his hands over his mouth, trying to steady his breathing. He had to just ride it out, let the anxiety ebb. In the meantime, he needed to distract himself with something to slow his mind down.

Seeing this, Ferreth clapped his hands together and asked, “You wanted a tour, right?”

Thank god for convenient timing. “Yeah, Bris suggested it after we finished our discussion and that’d be really great right now.” A helpful distraction, indeed. “Where should we go first?”

“How about the tulip fields?”

“That’s perfect. Shall we go, then?”

They began walking down the street he now recognized as the main road. Eric slowly calmed himself the further away he was from Bris’ house, his mind beginning to feel at ease the more he put it to work at enjoying the tour. Now he might be able to hold a steady conversation.

“So how it’d go with Bris?” Ferreth asked as they approached the middle of town.

“Oh, it went great!” he replied happily. “I am pleased to inform you that Aurora Zenith and Thornewind are now officially allies.”

“I knew it’d go over smoothly. So what does being allies entail, exactly?”

“Oh, well…” He racked his brain for a way to explain things without giving much away. “Say, for example, a disaster were to strike Thornewind. It’d be my duty as Aurora Zenith’s lord to send aid over right away and the same would apply to both Bris and Lianthorne---Brinegarde’s lord---if it were reversed. You’d have to ask Bris if you want to learn more about it.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m not really interested in all that political crap.”

“I share the same sentiment but I have to be if I want to succeed at my job.”

“Then why enter that line of work?”

“Let’s just say I didn’t have much choice in the matter. I stepped up to take the position but only because I had the qualifications for it. At least I’m putting the skills I learned in my childhood to good use.”

“You have my condolences.”

He snorted in laughter at that. The rest of the trip consisted of them engaging in meaningless small talk that felt like it went on for hours. He was beginning to wonder if he had made a friend in Ferreth. It was easy to see why; he was laid-back, funny, and could find ways to keep the conversation going when he couldn’t. This was different from when he befriended Ven. While he extended a kind hand out that ultimately led to their friendship, this was two like-minded individuals coming together and just bonding over their shared interests. Maybe Alek was right in that he changed from the person he was two years ago into someone better. He smiled at the thought.

A quick visit to the stable to see Asha later and they were out. The tulips were just as stunning as they were when he walked through the fields yesterday. A sea of rainbow swayed in the gentle breeze and his breath was stolen from him once more. He was definitely going to sketch this place sometime in the near future. This was too beautiful for him to pass up.

“A nice sight, isn’t it?” Ferreth asked, throwing his head back to let the wind ruffle his hair. “Just feel that breeze.”

“Yeah, it is quite pleasant.” That was when he remembered his question from yesterday. “Oh, I was wondering, how are the tulips still in bloom this late into summer? I mean, I’m not a botanist or anything but my friend once told me they only bloomed in the spring.”

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t know the answer to that.” He began walking down one of the many dirt paths crisscrossing the massive garden. “You’ll have to ask someone who’s lived here their whole life that question.”

Taken aback by his reply, he followed after and said, “Wait, you’re not from Thornewind?”

“Nope. I’m from a little town called Thesriden that may as well be on the other side of the world. I came to Thornewind just before my 18th birthday.”

“Then forgive me if I’m prying a bit but why come all the way out here? It must’ve been a long trip if it’s as far as I’m imagining it to be.”

Ferreth let out a heavy sigh, no doubt wanting to say as little as possible. “Let’s just say I ran away from home due to some familial issues and I remembered Bris saying he planned on coming here after moving out so I followed him. Welcomed me with open arms and I’ve stayed ever since.”

There was a bitter smile on Ferreth’s face while saying all that. He didn’t need any elaboration to understand where he was coming from. They were more alike than he thought, right down to leaving behind the place they called home for so long because of family. No wonder he held Bris up to such high regard.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, he changed topics to, “Anyway, these tulips really are beautiful. I think my friend would love it here.”

“Well, hey, we’re always welcoming new visitors,” Ferreth said in a brighter tone. “Maybe when you go back home, you can tell him to come up here sometime.”

“I’m not sure if she’d be able to, what with her shyness and all…” The memory of Ven cowering from a crowd of people surrounding her popped into his head and he breathed out. No way was she going to travel all the way up here by herself, especially with how she looked. If Vlixeoxs were barely tolerated in places like Brinegarde and Aurora Zenith, Thornewind would be no different.

“I can help her out when she gets here,” Ferreth suggested. It’s not like he hasn’t been of great importance to him throughout his entire visit so far. So long as he didn’t flirt with her, then maybe…

“If she comes here, I’m holding you to that.” Ven was his friend and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to her. Of course he knew she could take care of herself but he still worried.

“So, shall we move on with the rest of the tour?”

“Sure. We have all day, right?”

So they continued on for the rest of the afternoon. He was shown the local businesses, parks, and occasional oddity Thornewind had to offer. Ferreth even made it a point to tell him of the best taverns to drink at, which he found nice but unnecessary. He wasn’t one to drink and, even if he were, most alcohol never appealed to him. Once the sky began to darken, they decided it was best to wrap up the tour. If Ferreth ever wanted to change his line of work, he’d be damn good at being a guide.

As they were walking back to the Dravitae Inn, Eric remembered his earlier conversation with Bris. An important matter, huh? Maybe Ferreth knew something about what Bris could be hiding from him. After all, they were very close so the possibility was there, he just had to ask.

“Hey, Ferreth, is Bris normally the secretive type?” He studied his face, trying to gauge what his reaction would be.

Confusion was the best way to describe his expression when Ferreth asked, “No, he’s never been one to keep secrets. Why?”

“After we had finished our discussion, he mentioned having something important he wanted to talk with me about. I was wondering if you knew anything of it but I guess not.”

“Yeah, I don’t know anything about this. He didn’t seem bothered at all last night so I wonder what’s going on.”

That wasn’t what he expected or wanted to hear. If even Ferreth had no idea of this, then it really was a waiting game he’d have to play until it was time. Patience was a virtue he had a love/hate relationship with. On matters like this, it was his worst enemy and he had no choice but to deal with it.

“I’ll see him tonight and ask what’s up, it’s just not like Bris to keep secrets,” said Ferreth.

“Don’t do that, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he thinks it’s time.” He saw him open his mouth to say something then shut it. “For now, I’ll have to wait.”

They arrived at the inn just as the lights were turning on. Until the time Bris sent for him came, he planned on enjoying the rest of his trip here. He already had an idea of what he wanted to do tomorrow when---

“Hey, Eric, you have any plans for tomorrow?” Ferreth’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“Well, I was thinking about going on up to the overlook I saw while we were at the tulip fields earlier and possibly sketch Thornewind from up there,” he replied, realizing where this was going. “Why?”

“You mind me tagging along?” Yep, that’s what he thought.

“No, but won’t it interfere with work?”

“Eric, I go to work whenever it calls me. Besides, if it was serious enough, they can just come find me so it’ll be fine.”

He gave it a moment of deliberation before answering with, “…Okay but if you get into trouble because you were too busy hanging out with me, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

“Come on, people love me, I bet I could get myself out of it by saying a few sweet words,” he replied with an amused grin. “I’m very charming, you know.”

It was so hard to hate him sometimes. Even when he’d say things that’d normally rub him the wrong way, Ferreth made them have the opposite effect. He was right in that people loved him and Eric wasn’t an exception.

After they parted ways for the day, he climbed up to his room, sat on his bed, and let out a weary sigh. Today was another exhausting yet fun day. He managed to accomplish his goal for being here, went on a sightseeing tour in Thornewind, and spent some quality bonding time with Ferreth. Tomorrow was a day he could kick back, relax, and enjoy the peace it’d bring.

Speaking of which, he reached into his bag and pulled out his sketchbook. Flipping through the pages revealed many works in progress that he never planned on finishing, ranging from messy outlines to slightly cleaner sketches. His subjects were mainly of landscapes, though there were the occasional drawings of Alek during the rare times he’d actually sit and stay down. He’d been honing his craft since he was a child and the years of practice gave him the ability to turn out something truly remarkable. However, this was only a hobby he was passionate about. Nothing more, nothing less.

Eventually, he found a blank page and folded the corners inwards. It was to bookmark which page he wanted to use for the Thornewind sketch tomorrow. Then he put the sketchbook back inside his bag, patting it once for the heck of it. Everything was in there, he was sure of it.

Today was when he built a foundation in more ways than one. Tomorrow would be him strengthening the one he started on with Ferreth. Let it bear fruit so he may savor it in commemoration of this trip.

#airi's writing #oc; Eric #oc; Brirsyrun #oc; Ferreth #Corona's Shadow

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victoriareyloficlists · 3 years

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26 January 2021 Additions to Reylo Work Environment

These fics have been added to the Enemies-to-Lovers list located here.

Boss/Employee Relationship

The Elevator by someonesbeenhere (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, 6 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Hard working Tech Support Rey is working late one evening when she gets stuck in a broken elevator with a complete stranger. He manages to distract terrified Rey through some rather promiscuous means. Unfortunately for Rey, her seductive saviour isn’t a random from another department but none other than the CEO of the First Order company, Ben Solo himself.) Fears Must Be Faced For Growth To Take Place by CariadRose (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: “She couldn’t (shouldn’t?) fantasise about her boss, even if he did make her heart explode every time he made eye contact. Bosses were off limits, it was a rule right? You don’t date your friends exes, you don’t date your siblings friends and you definitely don’t date your boss. No matter how much you want to.”) inconceivable by tothefoolswhodream (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Hux notices that Ben is more reasonable in company meetings when Rey is there as well. Hux starts planning things. Shenanigans ensue.) Getting Personal by Erulisse17 (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, 15 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Kylo keeps scaring away personal assistants until Hux hires one that isn't afraid of him. Not only is Rey not scared of him, she is ruthlessly efficient, refuses to put up with his nonsense, and disconcertingly pretty. And also seems to genuinely want to help him, which clearly means she's up to something. Right?) Off the cuff by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 4 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Poe gets Ben a stripper for closing a business deal. Ben reluctantly takes part to not waste Poe's money. The stripper hand cuffs him and robs him of clothes and money. Rey heads back to the office late night and finds her hot boss cuffed to the office chair in nothing but his tie.) Variance by Stargazer1116 (AO3 2018 Rated T Complete, 23 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey is heartbroken when she learns her temporary visa is expiring...and is mortified when her office crush. Kylo Ren, catches her crying about it. He is a partner in Skywalker & Associates law firm where she is an assistant. One thing leads to another...and what started as a simple solution for each of their problems turns into something much...much more. Together they wade through their deep scars to love.) Trouble for Thanksgiving by Biekewieke (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 40 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey Kenobi's temporary work visa is about to expire. She needs her boss' signature on her renewal application to get the extension she desperately wants and needs. Only her boss, the infamous Ben Solo, is an asshole. He's notoriously difficult and she knows this firsthand. Nevertheless, she needs his signature on those papers if she wants to avoid being deported by the end of the year... So when Rey tells her about her looming deportation, he finds a way to bend the situation to suit his own needs. Except, for the first time in his adult life, things don't go exactly as planned when he takes her home for the holidays...) I'd Find You and I'd Choose you by JGoose13 (AO3 2020 Rated M Complete, 6 Chapters, Reincarnation AU, Quick Synopsis: wife, fostered her for a time as a child. In order to keep their legacy and light alive, Rey moves in. As she begins to pick through the life of this couple, Rey makes a shocking discovery in the attic. What's worse? The discovery involves her boss, Ben Solo, a man she absolutely abhors.) What a difference a day makes by whateveriguess (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, 6 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben is endlessly grumpy, exacting in his criticism, and irritable. And more than anything else, he's exhausted. Rey is too much. She's too brave, too intent on having her new colleagues like her, and she cares too much. (Brought to you by plotting, Internet articles with shady science, and the company Slack).) Chef's (Uns)Table by TheAlchemistsDaughter (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Kylo Ren is a high-powered chef with an explosive temper. Nevertheless, Rey likes him. To get him to come out of the kitchen, she and her friends try to wind him up. When someone asks for ketchup, it works a little too well.) Strictly Business by WinglessOne (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 11 Chapters, The Proposal Film AU, Quick Synopsis: Working for a nationally recognizable magazine is a huge honor, one that Ben Solo doesn't take lightly. His boss, Rey Erso, would be the first to agree and is thoroughly comfortable with her status as editor-in-chief. When her visa status is denied, she'll do anything to stay in the United States and avoid being deported back to England. Even if that means forcing her assistant to marry her.) Go And Catch A Falling Star Chapter 50 by Ayearandaday (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben needs to get married in order to get full ownership of his company. Rey learns about her boss' predicament and offers a helping hand.) Silent Night by avidvampirehunter (AO3 2019 Rated M Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Solo, one of the higher-ups at First Order Insurance, has spent roughly one year dreading the inevitable—falling for Rey Kenobi, one of his most mysterious and alluring employees. Little does he know that Rey herself has been fighting the same temptations, nor that she may be losing the will to even try. When he ends up drawing her name for the annual Secret Santa gift exchange, the merciless hand of fate pushes them together through the storm raging outside—and in their hearts.) more everything by caisha (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: He was arrogant, condescending, and an asshole. And he didn't have a mark on his wrist.) Believe it or not by P_Dunton (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 8 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Everyone can see their soulmates when they sleep. Except for Rey Niima. When she closes her eyes, there’s never anyone there. Most say this happens when the other soul partner doesn’t sleep. After years and years of this, Rey has given up on ever finding her other half. Ben Solo is an angry, bitter shell of a man. He tries to stay awake as long as he can, using whatever means possible to avoid dreams. Because his soulmate is dead.)

Coworkers

Kindle Love by spacewitchase (AO3 2020 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey is secretly smitten with Ben. It’s a big blow when she hears that he just got ‘Tinder’ and is really enjoying it. Only he doesn’t have Tinder; what he’s really enjoying is reading books on his new Kindle (and he has a secret crush on Rey).) Let me Dream, Let me Stay by Melusine11 (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 12 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey has kept up a charade of a non-existant boyfriend for two years and now that Rose and Finn are getting married, she needs someone to pretend to be said boyfriend, enter her coworker Ben.) It's All I Can Do To Leave You Alone by TazWren (AO3 2019 Rated T Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben Solo is determined to figure out who is breaking into his office and arranging his action figures into explicit positions.) caught in the headlights by jeeno2 (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey Johnson forgets to wear a bra to work. Fortunately, nobody notices. (Except for Ben Solo.)) Fight, Flight, or F____ by Blueyedgurl (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey gets a dildo advent calendar for office secret santa. Ben is absolutely panicking, his chance with the cute girl is absolutely toast. Poe would be mad that Ben took the wrong wrapped gift from the counter this morning but he can always buy Finn a new one and this is hilarious.) Let's Meet Under the Mistletoe by GreyForceUser (ReyandKyloforever) (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 7 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey Johnson and Ben Solo do not get along. Their first meeting was less than impressive. A change in circumstances forces Rey and Ben to work together to stage a huge black-tie Christmas party in a ridiculously short period of time. Only time will tell if they can stand each other long enough to pull it off or if the whole thing will crash and burn.) No Chance, No Way by AttackoftheDarkCurses (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 7 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Just as Rey's decided to give up on love, she gets partnered to co-write Valentine's themed articles with the office grump, who... maybe isn't such a grump.) (won’t you let me) walk you home from school by somethingdifferent (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 32 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Ben, a counselor in the upper school at the legendary Alliance Academy, keeps finding himself interacting with the lower school art teacher, Rey. He definitely doesn’t like it. ) the theory of dance by blessedreylo (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Hogwarts AU, Quick Synopsis: Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Rey Niima and Potions Professor Ben Solo are always at each others throats in the corridors of Hogwarts. Headmaster Kenobi has seen enough, and is making them teach a dance class to students in preparation for the Yule Ball. Can these professors learn to get along or will their rivalry turn into another kind of passion?) A Reylo Christmas by Biekewieke (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 8 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: So when Leia Organa asks her Personal Assistant Rey to join her on a family vacation in Mon Torri for the holidays and highlights a big bonus, what is she to do? Only catch... Leia's son is coming along... Ben Solo is the enfant terrible of the family. Broody, sullen and with a huge chip on his shoulder, the young man is notoriously difficult.) Lessons in Attraction by AttackoftheDarkCurses, thebuildingsnotonfire (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 12 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Notorious rivals Ben and Rey teach at Alderaan High. They're constantly bickering and driving their coworkers and students crazy. The only solution is to set them up together, right?) Hear Me Out by vuas (AO3 2020 Rated E Complete, 2 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Rey’s coworker Ben has an unusual side gig. He records audio erotica.)

Client Relationship

Magic Touch by KyloTrashForever (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, One-Shot, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: In which Rey is going through a dry spell, and she’s the only one who doesn’t realize Ben wasn’t hired to help her end it.) Say It With Feeling by amybeegood (AO3 2018 Rated E Complete, 18 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: Meet Rey, the Maid/Escort who really needs a solid day job and Ben, the reclusive, virgin billionaire who doesn't have a clue about real life or how to hire household help.) Bespoke by fettuccine_alfreylo (AO3 2019 Rated E Complete, 12 Chapters, Modern AU, Quick Synopsis: When new stylist Rey Jackson receives a request to dress the hottest (and most unfashionable) new actor in Hollywood, she gets a lot more than she bargained for. Mentally AND physically. Because Ben Solo is freaking massive.)

#reylo #reylo fanfic

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snk-oc-guide · 3 years

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Please review my OC?

Danica Orlov Name meaning: "Danica" is the latin word for Danish, but it is also the personification of the morning star in slavic mythology. "Orlov" means "son on Oryol" in Russian, a nickname meaning eagle. Nickname(s): Red(for her hair color), Dani (by her yearmates)

Species: Human Gender: Female Age: 16 (850) Height: 170cm Weight: 60kg

Relatives:

Radek Orlov (father)

Francine Murphy (mother)

Birthday: June 3rd, 834 Birthplace: Mitras Residence: Wall Rose Status: Alive

Occupation: Soldier Affiliation: Survey Corps Former Affiliation: 104th Training Corps

Former Occupation:

Seamstress Apprentice

Medic Apprentice

Field Medic

Thief

Scullery Maid (Dishwasher)

Graduation Rank: Outside Top Ten

Titan Kills: During Battle of Trost

Solo: 0

In Team: 0

During 57th Expedition:

Solo: 0

In Team: 0

APPEARANCE: Danica is a juvenile female with thick, auburn hair that sweeps down to her shoulders which she wears up in a bun or ponytail and amber colored eyes. Standing at a height of 170cm, she is broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, fairly muscled and not very well-endowed. Her fair skin is heavily freckled, as if someone generously sprinkled breadcrumbs on a plate, and the stress and small numbers of sleeping hours of the past years have painted crows feet and dark circles permanently on her eyes.

As a soldier, Danica wears the standard uniform with the badge of the Survey Corps. When off duty she dresses in a loose, boat-necked green shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black opened vest, black tights and knee-high sturdy boots.

PERSONALITY: Danica is a reserved, mature, pragmatic and intelligent girl whose caring heart and kind nature have hurt her heavily after the fall of Shiganshina.

As a child she was open and expressive, unafraid of taking risks and getting hurt. Surrounded by people she loved and who loved her in return she led an idyllic childhood. Unafraid of work, she was completely in her element when helping around her foster family's bakery or later in her apprenticeship.

From an early age she showed restraint over her anger, not wanting to hurt those around her and preferring to just back down from an argument, although she couldn't always keep a lid on her emotions. For her to get really angry took a good reason or a buildup overtime, but when it happened she would stop caring about the feelings of others and use her words to strike where it hurt most. After reducing others to tears, Danica would feel ashamed and renew her effort to temper herself. Her self-restraint was noted by her foster family who encouraged her to always be levelheaded.

Sensitive and empathetic to those around her, Danica craved a greater understanding of people and the world in general, although she never entertained thoughts of going outside the walls. She was content with her lot in life, with her work and with her family and friends, even if they weren't related by blood. Despite wondering now and then who her real parents were she never gave it much thought as in the end she felt it didn't matter.

After the fall of Shiganshina, Danica retreated into herself, becoming listless and apathetic. It didn't help that the Beckers blamed her for living, while their daughter did not and had ceased all relations with her. That the only person in her life who remained committed soon afterwards suicide when both of them were drafted among the refugees for the culling of '46 made things even worse for Danica. She felt abandoned, lonely and depressed. Her thoughts and dreams gave her no rest, when she wasn't thinking about Adele (the Becker's daughter), she was thinking about Gigi (a seamstress and friend).

The world felt old and decayed, she was constantly tired and weary and only got up every day out of bed because she could not stand the thought of wasting away. It also helped that her new employer in Trost had taken a liking to her and had started her on a crash course in medicine, to increase her chances of coming back. Not wanting to disappoint him or to be useless she persevered. A larger part of her simply didn't want to die.

The horrors of the expedition that came from both Titans and people who had nothing to lose and no restraints anymore, left a lasting mark on Danica. Unable to view humanity with kindness or concern anymore, Danica grew to have problems relating to those around her. The loss of the man who had helped her and later her partner in crime only made her sink further in her depression. Had Hannes and one of his officer not been notified of Elia's body and found her alongside him, Danica might have just remained there until she wasted away. Hannes kindness however rekindled something inside Danica who realized she still wanted to live and that she was tired of being tired, sad, weary, guilty, ashamed, lonely and always having to start again.

Her decision to join the Garrison changes after the Battle of Trost however when she begins piecing the puzzle in front of her and realizes that things are not what they seem. Wanting to learn the reasons behind the war, but more so about the Colossal and Armored Titan who had ruined her life she decides to join the Survey Corps, even if she would come to regret it.

HISTORY: Radek Orlov was a Military Police officer whose affair with Danica's mother, the youngest daughter of a noble non-Eldyian clan affiliated with the ruling government, saw him transferred to the Survey Corps when it was discovered Francine was with child. As for Francine, herself, she was forced to go into hiding until Danica was born then give her up so that the Murphy's wouldn't be affected by scandal and that her engagement to the eldest heir of another noble clan could go through.

(rowan) you say her mother, francine, is from a non-eldian clan. that isn't possible, as all the residents within paradis are eldians. even the members of the ruling government are eldians

Francine's father wasn't completely without mercy however, even if he sent Danica as far away as Shinganshina, he also arranged for his bastard granddaughter to be taken in by a foster family as well as an apprenticeship to a seamstress when she reached her tenth birthday.

Danica grew up with the Beckers, knowing nothing of this, in a cheerful, lively and loud environment. She was best friend's with the Beckers middle daughter, Adele and often time helped around the family's business, the bakery. From an early age she developed a curiosity for herbs, brought on by Beckers varied recipes that included them and when she left their household for Madam Girard's, she was very happy to receive a book on botany from them. This passion slowly turned into gardening which became her hobby, as she would from there on always keep a small pot to grow mint in it (using the leaves alongside baking soda to wash her teeth or to chew to keep her breath fresh).

At Madam Girard's, a local seamstress of some renown inside and outside Shinganshina, Danica would spend most of her days sewing alongside her teacher and the other girls in her employment. Despite the long hours of work, she grew quite close to the other girls, the two she roomed with, Yulya and Gigi, especially. Whenever given free time, she would more often than not find herself in their company or visiting the Beckers. Sometimes Yulya and Gigi would join her at the Beckers and soon Yulya and the Becker's oldest son, Gregor grew close to one another much to Danica's great joy, as she had been the one to introduce them.

(rowan) i think it should be noted that just because danica is apprenticed with the seamstress, it doesn't mean she lives with her. it just means she basically has an internship, and will treat it like a job, except she is only getting paid in knowledge/experience. if this was a farm, i could understand having to live there, otherwise i find it kind of weird.

STORY: On the day the Colossal Titan appeared, Danica and Adele were out together. The frightening sight made them lock hands. When the breach occurred, Danica was blown back by a piece of falling debris. Adele was not so lucky and Danica was left to stare in shock at the disembodied arm she was holding hands with. Her best friend being a mere smear on the floor, Danica was on the verge of going into shock when she was jostled by the panicked surge of the fleeing crowd into dropping the arm and running. To this day she cannot remember how exactly she managed to escape to the boat, but when she came to all she could do was tremble and cry.

Upon arriving in Trost she tried to find anyone she knew and eventually stumbled upon Gigi who was quite a fright, having been witness to a Titan devouring Madam and crushing Yulya underfoot. Eventually Danica managed to reunite with the Beckers who asked about Adele. Claming up, all Danica could find in her power to do was shake her head much to the family's horror. Asked to leave and not come back by a grieving mother and father, Danica went off and she and the Beckers never spoke again. Returning to Gigi's side, the two of them eventually found work, Gigi with a local tailor and Danica with a doctor thanks to her knowledge of sewing and botany.

(rowan) i can understand grief making the beckers react unfairly and out of emotion, but considering they've raised danica since she was a baby and have treated her like she was their own, i'm surprised by their reaction. it makes it seem like they never loved her in the first place. if that's the case, i think their behavior towards her should change a bit, and danica should come off as a bit more neglected. since before it seemed like they loved and cared for her.

When the culling in 846 was called, both Gigi and Danica were drafted from among the refugees. Gigi unable to cope and fearful of a terrible death, hanged herself, much to Danica's horror as she was the one to find her friend.

(rowan) while i think this is an interesting idea, during the culling, only men were selected out of the civilians to take part in it. the women and children were left alone. it doesn't state that specifically, but if you go back to look at the images about the event, you don't see any women or children. just the male civilians and the members of the survey corps.

even if that wasn't the case, however, i don't see why gigi and danica would be selected. the world needs children to grow and take place of the older generation. they also need women to keep the walls populated. so why would two young girls be sent off to die, when the government knows they could be potential future mothers? it makes more sense to weed out the old, since they're going to die anyway.

this is just my take on it though! since nothing is officially stated regarding the people they selected among the civilians, you're free to do as you like.

Dr. Owen, despite his gruff and cantankerous personality, was in his own way of great help to Danica especially concerning the upcoming expedition, emphasizing that her medical knowledge no matter how limited might just be her ticket home. As it so happens he was right and Danica was placed among the soldiers of the Survey Corps, alongside their own medics when the expedition began.

Danica would be among the few civilian survivors who returned from the culling. Changed by the horrible things she had seen and the many wounded she could not save, Danica decided she would never again step a foot outside the safety of the walls and that she would not pursue a career as a doctor. Returning to Dr. Owen to take her few belongings back, she was dismayed to find out from his neighbors that the old man had died, knifed for trying to break up a fight.

Alone and without anything to her name, Danica is forced to sleep on the unsafe streets. In the days to come, unable to find employment and going hungry she begins stealing food to survive. Soon she encounters a young boy, Elia, a thief and pickpocket, who suffers of pneumonia. Like her he is a refugee forced by circumstances into such a life and his sickness makes it even harder to find honest work.

The two of them team up to survive and grow quite close to one another, Elia going as far as to teach Danica parkour so that they can make easier escapes during their heists. This partnership does not last as Elia takes a turn for the worse and dies one night. Once more alone, Danica realizes that nothing in her life has had any stability ever since Shiganshina, that the past year had been nothing but hunger, pain and suffering. Weary and tired of this lifestyle, but not knowing what to do she remains alongside her friend's body until two Garrison officers come upon them.

Elia's body is taken away and one of the men who found her, Hannes takes Danica to a pub for a hot meal, going as far as to secure a job for her there as a washer in the kitchens. The kindness shown to her, leaves Danica in tears and she decides then and there to enroll in the military the coming year and join the Garrison on her graduation.

When the time comes she signs with the 104th Cadet Corps. The intense training as well as her own continued practice of parkour, leave Danica exhausted more often than not at the end of the day. Despite her growing skills, she does not care much about grades as she is still quite set on the Garrison and makes sure to put in enough effort to pass, but not overtake anyone. More concerned to learn how to defend herself, she focuses only on improving herself without putting effort into any exams, not caring about the instructors opinions that she could do much better. This coupled with her own reserved nature, her inability to connect to her peers or relate to their worries, paint Danica as stuck up and someone who thinks she is better than everyone else. When she eventually learns how others perceive her, she is both mortified and distressed. Until that moment she had not realized how much she had changed the past two years and as the situation is something of her own doing and she has no idea how to change, Danica remains on the outside more often than not. Eventually as team building exercises are introduced, her natural abilities as a leader shine through and her relationship with her yearmates becomes friendlier, although she is still seen by most as stuck-up.

(rowan) danica seems like she doesn't care about the people around her, and she is only focused on reaching her goals. i thought she also didn't get close to people, as a way to protect herself, since up until now everyone she was close to either left her or died.

that brings me to wondering why all of a sudden, danica cares how others perceive her. since she never took time to get close to her yearmates, i find it weird that she suddenly cares about what they think of her.

unless, her becoming "mortified and distressed' has more to do with herself, and her realizing how much she has changed. and less to do with her finding out what they think of her.

this is just an observation i made when i read her backstory and etc, so i could be wrong in the assumption. either way, i hope me pointing it out helps in some way.

Graduating outside the top ten, Danica is stationed alongside the other cadets in Trost. Despite having lukewarm relations with most of her yearmates, she is buoyed with happiness, knowing that she would join the Garrison soon. This is remarked by the rest of her teammates: Vera Fermi, Leon Mikaelsson, Theo Durand, Kathrin Beckert and Felix Grey. Assigned to patrol the six of them, get to know one another a bit better but the appearance of the Colossal Titan puts a quick stop to Danica's joy and her first honest attempt in years to make friends. Her reaction isn't missed by the rest of her squad, who despite their shock and horror have an easier time, never having seen titans before and still somewhat optimistic as to their own chances. They manage to get Danica moving to HQ where they receive their orders. Despite her shaking, Danica is aware enough to order Theo Durand to requisition additional gas canisters and blades to carry as the possibility of running out is quite high. She assigns him and Felix Grey to divide the burden among themselves, placing the remaining Vera Fermi, Leon Mikaelsson and Kathrin Beckert as the scouting/vanguard of their squad, with the two logicians and herself as a medic behind.

Surprised but seeing the merit of her idea, they prepare and head to their assigned position only to find that the Titans had advanced. Realizing that the first line of defense had fallen, Danica has an outburst of nerves, cursing everything in sight. Devising a plan to separate and pick them off one by one, using her and the logicians to lure them in while the three assigned to the vanguard take them out works for a while. But as titans fall, her squad mates become overconfident and bite more than they can chew. Vera is caught and Leon and Kathrin jump to her rescue. They are promptly killed by titans and Felix and Theo try to make a break for it, overcome by fear. Their mistake costs them their lives but allows Danica to use their death to make her escape. She doesn't stop until she finds more of the 104th cadets and as they hopelessly watch the advancing enemy, Danica is filled with dread. Unable to stop wondering how much time they have until the Armored Titan appears, Mikasa's sudden arrival and lousy speech emboldens her and she joins the rest of her yearmates in making a break for HQ to resupply. (Things go more or less as they did in canon at HQ)

The Rogue Titan's leaves Danica without words, more so after Eren emergence.

Keeping a close eye for the appearance of the Armored Titan as they flee for the safety of Wall Rose, Danica makes a few realizations:

The Armored Titan was nowhere in sight.

The Colossal had appeared as suddenly as it did in Shiganshina and just as suddenly dissipated, much like the Armored.

Eren's titan form was already discomposing when he emerged.

(rowan) i thought danica didn't remember much after the fall of shinganshina? i thought she just remembered her friend dying, and then somehow making it to one of the boats and arriving at trost?

that being said, i find it weird just remembers something like the armored titan appearing, nonetheless disappearing. especially considering the chaos that was taking place. it'd be hard to keep track of something like that.

Although her mind is in a jumble and she hasn't yet come across what exactly is wrong with this picture, she asks Mikasa and Armin to allow her to stand with them when defending Eren. Despite their skepticism about her intentions and Mikasa's threat that she would die if she were to make a move for Eren, she is allowed to defend him to the panicked Garrison. Once Commander Pixis arrives on the scene and agrees to Armin's plan, the three ask Danica why exactly she stayed with them. The only thing Danica thinks to say is that "The Armored Titan hasn't appeared." This confuses them, until Armin straightens all of a sudden as of just now noticing the same thing. Both Armin and Danica come to realize that the Armored Titan might not appear at all, that those two titans had already found what they wanted.

(rowan) very confused as to why danica would want to put her life on the line for people she doesn't know. i'm surprised she even knew their names lol but it just seems very random for her to want to suddenly stand in defense of eren. what is she gaining? what is the point to it?

also, her assumptions revolving around the titans are weird. at this point, no one knows anything about the titans other than the fact they are out to end humanity without rhyme or reason. thinking of the armored titan and colossal titan as things with "motives" or "reasons" is not fitting for the current timeline, where they don't know anything. so her thinking that the two titans "have already found what they wanted" is weird, as titan's don't have thoughts. and as far as they know, the colossal and armored are just that: titans.

another thing i don't think fits, is danica putting the armored and colossal titans together as a pair. as in, if one appears, then the other one isn't far behind. titans don't work in teams or anything, so to expect that from them doesn't add up. even if they had showed together during the fall of shiganshina, that was just one instance. there isn't much of a pattern to turn it into something predicable.

Danica is left frothing at the mouth, her mind working overdrive as she suspects the Colossal and Armored might both be like Eren, shifters, and that the people who died five years ago were merely collateral, instead of their main objective.

(rowan) again, this is something no one knows about yet. in the current state the word "titan shifters" hasn't even been discovered. they all think eren is an actual titan who has adapted to fit in with the humans to kill them all. very far fetched, but again, they don't know much about titans except that they kill humans. eren having been a titan is enough to confuse and scare them.

the fact that the intelligent characters such as armin, hange, and erwin, took a bit to discover there were others like eren says enough about how unbelievable the theory is. according to these people, there is no world outside the walls. how could they even imagine something like titan shifters existing?

so, unfortunately, i don't think it'd be fitting to have your character draw that conclusion. no matter how smart they are, i doubt they're smarter than the aforementioned characters. if anything, danica needs more evidence before jumping to such a conclusion.

Burning with anger, Danica is quick to interrogate Eren about his transformation and how it came about to see if Armin's plan had a chance. As he tells what he remembers, Danica realizes that Eren's intent, his desire to kill the titans might have been a trigger and advises him to think only "I will pick the boulder and seal the breach" and only that. She is quick to point out that if he loses control of this power, even if he's never before realized he had it, things could take a turn for the worse not only for himself but Mikasa and Armin too. Eren agrees readily, but can't stop asking why she is so fired up. Danica tells them that she too comes from Shiganshina and that she too has lost everyone, to the trio's surprise as Danica has never even hinted at her past before. With a better understanding of one another, they part ways. The mission is a success from the start as Eren takes Danica's words to heart as well as minimal loss of life on the part of Eren's protectors. Not long after Eren and the rest of his team's triumphant return, the Survey Corps arrive. As the battle comes to a close and the Garrison and Survey Corps join forces in cleaning the town of Titans, Danica becomes aware that her suspicions were right and that there's more going on than what can be seen at first glance. Although she cannot point to why exactly the two titans waited so long to mount another attack, especially as the Armored could have just made a run for Wall Rose and no one would have been able to stop him, Danica realizes that she wants answers. Knowing that if she joins the Garisson she might not ever find out why they attacked, why so many had to die (why did she have to suffer so much), she tears up and laughs bitterly knowing that her only option is the Survey Corps if she plans to go ahead with finding answers. Even as she shakes with fear, a much bigger part of her burns for knowledge.

(The rest would be spoilers when I get to writing as it steadily turns AU, since Danica manages to save some people (Mike [by agreeing to tell Zeke everything about the VME in exchange for their lives], Gelger, Nanaba [by being there on orders to inform them about the Beast Titan, and being able to help, also by realizing that Henning and Lynne's blades and canisters might still be of use after Gelger gets injured and she and Nanaba run out]) and even befriend them. Her past also comes under scrutiny in the Uprising Arc and that is when she learns about her parents.)

(rowan) i highly doubt zeke will spare mike if danica tells him about the 3dmg. if anything, i could see him killing them both/leaving them for dead right after getting the information. the only way to spare mike, is to not let zeke get a hold of him at all lol

as for her past, i have to ask, will it really change anything? if she discovers her birthright, what will it mean to her? you said her family is a noble one, but why are they so important? what is it exactly that they do? i feel like, to have such a background, it will have to mean and result in something important. otherwise, it would have just been better to make her a random orphan in shiganshina, rather than a bastard noble child.

STATS Combat: 7/10 Initiative: 7/10 Wits: 9/10 Teamwork: 7/10 Agility: 10/10

(rowan) i think some of the stats are bit high considering the information i was given. i would make initiative, a six, considering so far i've seen her having to receive a "push" before she does anything.

teamwork, is also a little high, considering her standoffish attitude. i would make it a six.

A/N: I'm sorry for giving you more work, but I've had this idea stuck inside my head for a while now and I really need some advice if the OC is worth actually writing in the story. I've tried to give her constant character development and a believable reason for joining the Survey Corps and I don't know how much of my ideas come across since English isn't my first language and there might be some spelling mistakes. I've also added the characters I would like to save and possible explanations about how she goes about them, but I'm a bit unsure if Mike's is even possible, because while Zeke does seem practical, he's also kinda ruthless.

(rowan) no problem at all! thank you for submitting this to us, and i hope i was at least a little bit of help.

as always, i like to remind everyone that you don't have to listen to my critiques, but they are honest thoughts and observations i made. and i also say them with your best interests in mind! :)

#submission

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