#they make my heart shatter on the floor like a vase | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bigdumbbambieyes · 4 months

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Here is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race ✨🤍

poured gold 1.7k words | unbeta'd | hurt/comfort @harringrove-relay-race

When he was two years old, Steve clumsily ran down the hall in his home and hit his head on the sharp corner of a little table that sat in the hallway, splitting his skin open as the vase atop came crashing down as he did. The blood ran down his cherub-cheeked face as his mother screamed in horror, his father picking him up in a panic as the three of them rushed out to the car.

While his forehead had been put back together with a few carefully placed stitches, the vase that had crashed to the floor, just after he had, was left in pieces while they had rushed him to the hospital. Once they’d returned back home, the mess had been cleaned and Steve had forgotten all about it – he couldn’t even remember the incident at all, really, with having been so young.

When he turned six, he’d heard his mother exclaim in excitement as the mailman delivered a package to their front door. From atop the steps, peering down silently, he’d watched her unbox the same vase that had been broken all those years before – but now, the cracks had been filled with gold and it was whole once again.

He didn’t understand, at first. Why not throw the vase away in the first place? What good was a broken vase with its flaws now highlighted?

He’d gone downstairs with those questions, scrunching his little face as he listened to his mother patiently explain that she’d sent the vase back to their friends in Japan, who had originally gifted it to their family. It had been returned to her like this, repaired with gold, and she’d explained how the gold made the vase stronger and the flaws were now beautiful.

“Broken things can be beautiful if you take care of them.”

That had resonated with him, even at such a young age. It just made sense. Imperfections and flaws happened, but that doesn’t mean everything’s ruined. He can fuck up and make amends. He can break and heal stronger than before.

It gave him hope – for himself, for everyone, for everything. He had the symbol of it sitting in his hallway at home.

And ever since that conversation, whenever he didn’t do well on a test or had a fight with a friend, or his parents fought, Steve often found himself in the hallway, slowly and carefully tracing his fingertips over the cracks of gold and reminding himself that everything would be okay as long as he took care of it.

He’d been careful with the vase from that day on, admiring it now and then and remembering its reminder, until he relied on it less and less.

Until one night, Halloween night in ‘84, when his heart had felt like that broken vase and his tears were hotter than the blood that had run down his cheeks at the age of two.

Bullshit.

Rushing out of Tina’s house, Steve pinches the bridge of his nose as he stumbles to his car, feeling like his heart has shattered into pieces and he’s left cradling them in his palms as he tries not to sob in his car, drunk and lonely and feeling goddamn stupid in his Halloween costume as he makes it inside his empty house. His parents are gone at some other party, thankfully.

He rips the sunglasses out of his jacket pocket and throws them against the wall in a fit of rage, just to make something else hurt even if it’s useless, with tears burning white-hot in his eyes as his gaze lands on the vase in the hallway.

The gold mocks him and his broken heart.

He goes over, picks it up, and for a second he wants to break it again – on purpose. He wants to prove the gold wrong, prove that flaws are flaws and broken things could be made uglier so easily.

But, with the weight of it resting in his palm, he knows he can’t.

Instead, he sniffles and holds the vase steady as he gently sways, trails his tearfilled gaze over the golden cracks in the warm light of the hallway as he breathes out a quiet sigh.

He wouldn’t hurt his mother by destroying it again. He couldn’t.

Setting the vase back down, he goes up to his room to mourn quietly. The loss of love burns and aches sharply in his chest, it quickly attempts to make him bitter and hopeless until he’s sick of it, until it consumes him – but, that’s when he tries to remember the good, the gold of what used to make him smile, what used to make her happy. How they had been happy, once, for a brief, hopeful period of time. He fills those golden thoughts in the cracks of his heart, repairs it to be stronger, like the vase.

It’s a bittersweet process. Because he knows that she doesn’t love him and he wants to pretend that she does, wants to ask her if she really believes in what she said, but he doesn’t want to know the truth. He doesn’t want to know that their feelings and relationship were bullshit.

Maybe to her they were, and maybe she’ll think that he’s bullshit, but Steve knows he tried. He used to make her smile and laugh and her kisses were soft, they had softened him. And he’ll always be thankful for that, even as he fights off that urge to be bitter and petty.

Because it’s not easy to find the silver lining in pain, especially when he can’t escape it.

Especially when days have passed and it’s not his heart cracking open and bleeding, but his face, suffering for the first time from Billy Hargrove.

Billy, whose heart has been cracked open for a long time and forced back into place, with nothing holding its jagged edges together, desperately trying to look like he’s not falling apart – even though Steve can see it from a mile away.

It’s in his eyes. The blue is so dark, so expressive, even when he tries not to be.

Weeks after Steve’s face has healed and they’ve moved on, with a lingering tension between them whenever they meet in the hallway or whenever Steve catches the blond staring at him in class, they meet at the quarry after the sun has set.

It’s not planned, this sudden and secret meeting, but Steve still looks at the other boy in the moonlight and mutters a soft ‘hey’ from the hood of his car once Billy gets out of his.

Billy looks at him, for a moment. Walks silently over to Steve and fits himself in between those spread legs, sizes him up. He has a shiner under his left eye. It’s fresh. Steve wants to ask where he got it, but that tension that’s followed them all these weeks has reached its peak and Billy grabs the front of his shirt, pulls him so close that the tip of their noses brush.

And quietly, in the cool air, his words in a puff of frozen breath, Billy mutters, “You tell anyone about this and I’ll break your face again,” and kisses him.

Steve, numb from the cold and emboldened by the beer he’d been drinking, kisses back. Billy’s lips are warm and he tastes like a menthol cigarette, grabs at Steve in the way he’s been craving and needing as they makeout on the hood of his car, until he’s pulling them off and pushing them into the back seat of the Beemer.

There’s no apologizing, but that’s fine. Steve doesn’t mind. He doesn’t want Billy to apologize and he doesn’t want to apologize, either. What their minds can’t say, their bodies do, in the slow and sweet moments they manage to get together after that night.

They don’t date, according to Billy. He doesn't say it out loud, but he doesn’t want anyone to get close and Steve can see and understand it in the way Billy refuses kisses and doesn’t want to be held outside of sex.

But, he sees the unshed tears in those stormy eyes one January night and knows how desperately Billy is trying to not give in to the softness Steve offers him. He can feel how hard Billy grips onto him in his sleep. He feels how soft Billy eventually kisses him on a warm March night, just before the blond’s birthday, the warmth of his lips welcoming him in silently – a wordless agreement to see and be seen. An unspoken promise, maybe.

It’s a slow process – to love Billy. But, Steve is patient. Because whenever Billy lets him see those chips and cracks in his heart, that’s when Steve pours his gold into them, mending those breaks with his love. Because Billy is broken and they both understand that, but that doesn’t mean he’s a lost cause. Steve’s got a lot of love to give, even after the pain he’s felt. He’s hopeless.

But, Steve watches how his boyfriend’s smile begins to reach his eyes by the time June comes around and Billy’s sleeping over more, now that they’ve graduated. They grow closer as they plan their great escape to Chicago, whispering secrets at midnight and laughing and crying together as the days pass. Steve notices how the blond leans into his touch, seeking it out and, eventually, initiating it. And it’s beautiful that he cries openly and lets Steve hold him and sits with his emotions with him, for as long as Billy needs, while Billy does the same for him.

And one night, when his boyfriend is feeling low and vulnerable and hopeless, Billy hiccups from his spilled tears and asks Steve why he bothers and how he has the energy to care about him.

As if it’s a hard thing to do.

Laying together in his bed, Steve combs his fingers through Billy’s hair and tells him about the vase downstairs in the hall. How he’d broken it and it’d become stronger from that. He repeats his mother’s words about how a broken thing can be made stronger with the right care – he tells him that it’s kintsugi.

And Billy, sobbing, gives him a saltwater kiss full of gratitude and understanding.

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆

Thank you so much for reading!! And thank you again to @half-oz-eddie for inviting me to take part!!

Now, let's both look forward to what the incredibly talented @thediktatortot has created for the Harringrove Relay Race!! 🤍

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringroverelayrace #ahhhh i hope y'all like it!!#bambiwrites

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btsficsandsuch · 7 months

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hello! if your request is still open can i request one for yoongi or jin about clumsy reader like she often get hurt like walking into a wall, burnt her hand while cooking, etc? and eventually hurt herself really bad & jin/yoongi took care of reader? just very fluffy fics please🥺

thank you in advance! i've been on bed rest for a days now bcs i broke my ankle and been reading your fics to stay sane i hope you keep writing i love your works💗

Sorry this took so long. I hope you’re feeling better by now!

I Heart Yoongi

“I can’t believe this.”, you mumbled to yourself as you waited for the doctor to come back and wrap your arm in a cast. You were currently sitting in the emergency room with your best friend after tripping over your own shoe and falling down a flight of stairs breaking your arm. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call Yoongi? He’s going to be really upset when he finds out you called me and not him.”, your friend asked. Nodding your head you replied, “Yeah he has a busy day today and if he knows I’m here the he’ll skip his entire schedule to be here. He’s always taking care of me and I don’t want him to get in trouble for me.”

Your thoughts traveled back to all the times your boyfriend Yoongi had taken care of you after you clumsily hurt yourself. Just last Monday you burned your hand while making you both breakfast. Somehow you knocked the pan off of the stove and instead of letting it drop on the floor and loosing your pancakes you thought it would be a good idea to try and grab the pan but you instantly regretted it when you felt the stinging pain in your fingers. Yoongi had helped you put burn gel and bandages on your fingers and then even cleaned up the mess you had made before making another batch of pancakes.

Then on Wednesday you thought you’d surprise him by bringing him a drink and some snacks to his studio. You had a cute serving tray that you filled with a glass of water, some snacks that you put in these cute little glass bowls, you made a sandwich that you put on a plate in case he was extra hungry, you also gave him a glass of his favorite whiskey as a treat, and then even though it was cheesy you topped it off with a single rose that you put in a little glass vase. Looking back all that glass was probably a bad idea for someone as clumsy as you but at the time you were trying to be cute. Standing in front of his studio door you were trying to find a way to knock while balancing the heavy tray. You took your hand out from under the tray and knocked three times before quickly putting it back but it was too late. The vase started to sway and toppled over which made the glass of water fall and ruined the food and next thing you know the entire tray fell to the ground with a crash and glass shattering everywhere. In your panic you were trying to clean up hoping maybe Yoongi didn’t hear anything and managed to step on a piece of glass cutting your foot. Cursing yourself you went to walk to the bathroom to find a bandaid but you were stopped when you felt a hand around your wrist and you turned to see Yoongi. Silently he walked you to the bathroom and had you sit down on the tub while checking your foot to make sure there wasn’t any glass stuck before cleaning you up and placing a bandage over the cut. Then he cleaned up your mess even chuckling when he saw the rose. After sulking for a little you walked out into the kitchen just as he was finishing up and he walked over placing a sandwich down for you and bringing one over for himself so the two of you could sit and eat together.

Finally on Friday you had decided to do a deep clean of the apartment. You were down on your hands and knees scrubbing the inside of one of the kitchen cabinets when you heard Yoongi walk in the kitchen. Excitedly you tried to quickly stand up not realizing just how far in the cabinet you were and with a loud thud you hit the back of your head on the top of the cabinet. Yoongi quickly ran over and pulled you into his arms and rubbed the back of your head. He sat your down on the couch before returning to the kitchen to finish up the cleaning job and put everything back in its place all while checking on you every few minutes to make sure you didn’t have a serious head injury or anything.

That brings you to today. You were trying to bring a load of laundry down the stairs and tripped on your bunny slipper (Yoongi always told you that they were a death trap for someone like you but they were so cute) and you went tumbling down the stairs. When you came to a stop you checked to see if you had any injuries and that’s when you felt the sharp pain in your arm and called your friend and ended up in the emergency room.

Thankfully the doctor finally walked back in, “Alright Miss Y/N. What color cast did you want? We have blue, green, red, purple, pink, and just plain white?” “Umm purple I guess.”, you responded without any enthusiasm. The doctor must’ve done this a thousand times because it didn’t take long at all and before you know it he was giving you the discharge instructions, “Keep the cast dry. Try not to over exert yourself. You’ll want to follow up with your doctor in six week to see about removing the cast. Also you’re probably going to have some pain so I’m giving you a prescription for some pain medicine. You can get it filled today at the pharmacy on the second floor.” You nodded and took the paper work before carefully stepping down off the table.

You were walking down the hall following the directions to the pharmacy but when you turned the corner you saw a familiar mop of black hair spilling out of a beanie and a black jean jacket. Turning to your friend you whined, “You seriously called him? I told you not to.” Your friend put her hands up in defense, “He kept texting me asking why you weren’t responding to his texts. I ran out of believable lies.” You then remembered how you had left your phone at home in a panic. Yoongi noticed you walking down the hall and immediately ran up to you carefully wrapping you in a hug. His eyes went wide when he saw the light purple cast on your arm before he gently lifted it up to inspect it. “Thank you for taking care of her. I can take it from here.”, he smiled at your friend. You thanked her as well and watched her walk off towards the exit.

Yoongi took the discharge papers and started reading over everything that the doctor had told you. Not that he didn’t trust you but he wanted to make sure he also knew everything that needed to be done. Without even speaking he took your non broken arm in his hand and began walking you towards the pharmacy handing the clerk your prescription and then taking a seat next to you, “Why didn’t you call me Y/N? I’ve been worried sick all day. First you didn’t respond to any of my texts and then I find out from your friend that you’re at the emergency room.” “I knew you’d come here and I didn’t want that.”, you replied. He scoffed, “And that would be so bad? Sorry I want to be informed when something happens to you.” You were exhausted and in pain and we’re starting to feel guilty for not only not calling Yoongi but now he was missing important meetings and whatnot and he was also mad at you and it all became too much. You began to sniffle, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to worry. I knew you had a busy day and I didn’t want you to get in trouble for leaving. Of course I want you here but I didn’t tell you for your sake. You’re always taking care of me because I’m so clumsy and I jus-“. Yoongi leaned over and placed a kiss on your lips to shut you up. Then he wiped away some of your left over tears, “I’m not mad Y/N. I just got scared that you were in the hospital and I didn’t know why. You are always going to be more important to me than any schedule and I’m always going to be here to take care of you.” Feeling a little better you smiled and reached over to squeeze his hand. “I swear Y/N, I’m gonna wrap you in bubble wrap and then put you in one of those giant bubble things. I don’t think my heart can handle a life time of this.”, he chuckled and you giggled along with him.

The clerk called your name and Yoongi walked you up to retrieve your medicine and the two of you made your way to his car. After stopping to get some food you were glad to finally be back home. Yoongi was Yoongi and didn’t let you get a minute alone. Carefully he helped you undress and then wrapped your cast in plastic so you could shower. Since he knew you too well and he knew being one arm down would only make you clumsier he stood by the shower and helped you shampoo and condition your hair and he made sure you didn’t slip. After the shower he helped you get dressed and gave you another dose of your pain medicine and after following his nighttime routine he got in bed next to you pulling you close so you both could get some sleep after and exhausting day.

The following morning you woke up and looked over at your nightstand finding your pain medicine, a chocolate chip muffin with some strawberries, a glass of orange juice, and a note,

“I had to go to the company to catch up on some things I missed yesterday. When you get up take another pain pill but you can’t take it on an empty stomach so make sure you eat. I’ll be home around 3pm. Please just rest and don’t get any more hurt. I love you.”

You smiled as you took a bite of the muffin and that’s when you looked down at your cast and noticed some writing. You chuckled thinking about how at some point last night Yoongi must’ve doodled on your cast. Taking another bite of the muffin you smiled staring down at the picture of two cats sitting next to each other. One with a cast on their arm and wearing a ‘I heart Yoongi’ shirt and the other wearing a beanie and a basketball jersey. Slowly you got out of bed and as carefully as possible you carried the rest of your breakfast out to the living room to wait for Yoongi to return so you could thank him again.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts yoongi #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #suga

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appocalipse · 2 months

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how about cracked compass + antique lock and key set with eddie munson? hear me out, but i'm thinking a historical AU and they're both servants at the same house/manor/castle (thinking kinda downton abbey energy with the servants drama). maybe she's carrying a tray or something and spills it everywhere (idk maybe it's food, maybe its something tiny like a jar of beads) and eddie swoops in and takes the fall so that she doesn't get sacked (because he's been working there a lot longer) makes up some story about how it was his fault and stuff. yup, that'd be the moment you fell stupidly hard for him... imagine all of the pinning? the staring at him when he's not looking? AH!

lea, you have such a beautiful mind 🥺♥ i tried my best but unfortunately, i've never watched downton abbey, so it's probably not exactly what you wanted :( hope you'll still enjoy it anyway, thanks for the lovely request 💗 | 4.3k words

visit amy's flea market ♥

The vase goes clattering to the floor and you watch with a desperate and frenzied heart as it hits the stone and...shatters instantly.

In a mix of dismay and panic, you reach to the floor where the delicate craftwork is broken into countless jagged and shattered pieces along the smooth white tile. Upon attempting to save the poor vase, you accidently slash your palm open on one of the sharp corners, and though the wound gushes blood, you don't seem to care. You think maybe if you gather all of the pieces and put them back together in their proper place, it may still be fixed, may still be saved, if you—

"Have you- Christ! Sweetheart, what...what happened?"

Startled, you look up to find Eddie running down the long and winding stairway, his chest rising and falling as if he'd just run a mile. He quickly makes his way over to you, crouching down on the floor, his dark eyes scanning your body for any signs of injury.

"Are you hurt? Oh God, there's blood," he breathes, and before you can reply, he's reaching out to take your wounded hand in his and inspect it closer.

The feel of his fingers against your skin sends a tingling sensation up your spine, but you shake the feeling away and focus on explaining yourself. "I...I was just passing by and...I tried to grab it, but it fell, and—I didn't mean for it to—"

"Hey, hey, shh, it's alright," Eddie murmurs, and without hesitation, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a clean handkerchief. He wraps it around your bleeding hand and ties it tight, his movements gentle and careful. "I'll talk to Mr. Harrington about it, okay? It's not your fault."

"I—no. It was all me. Don't...you shouldn't get involved, you'll end up getting in trouble too."

Eddie smiles softly, his dark eyes sparkling as he looks up at you. "You're sweet, but...it's okay. I've been a servant here for a longer time. I know how to deal with this. You don't need to worry, okay?"

Unable to form words, you stare at Eddie and wonder why he's being so kind to you. It's true that the two of you have grown close over the past few years—close enough that you'd even consider him your friend—but still...this isn't his fault, and he shouldn't feel the need to take the blame for you.

"Eddie, I—"

He blushes and drops his gaze, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. "Go clean up, okay? I'll handle it."

And with that, Eddie carefully picks up the broken shards of the vase and disappears down the hall.

For the next days, you can't seem to stop thinking about what happened. The guilt eats away at your insides, twisting and turning until you feel physically sick. Eddie had taken the punishment for you, from what you've heard — a severe deduction from his pay and the threat of getting fired, along with extra cleaning duties.

You had tried to protest, to tell Mr. Harrington that it was truly an accident and that you could handle the consequences yourself, but Eddie wouldn't let you. He'd taken on everything, saying that the vase had slipped off the pedestal as he was cleaning it, and that he'd been the clumsy and careless one, leaving you in the clear.

You hated it.

It was the reason you couldn't seem to sleep, couldn't seem to eat or even breathe. Every waking moment was haunted by the memory of his soft and understanding voice, the warmth of his fingers against your own, the smell of his hair lingering in the air long after he'd gone, like a ghost haunting your thoughts and—

"God, sweetheart, you look terrible," Eddie says one day as you make your way through the castle corridors. "When was the last time you had a good night of sleep, huh?"

You blush, self-consciously touching your hair and wishing you looked even a fraction better than you did. "I-I'll pay you back, you know. I promise."

Eddie frowns, tilting his head in confusion. "Pay me back?"

"For...for taking the punishment for me. I'll do double my duties, and with the extra payment—"

"Woah, wait...you want to do extra work so you can...give it to me? What? That doesn't even make any sense. I didn't take the punishment so you'd repay me for it, you know."

"But it was my fault," you argue. "And it's only right that I—"

"How's your hand?"

"I don't...what?"

Blinking in confusion, you look down to where your hand is neatly wrapped in gauze. You had accidently re-opened the wound a few days back while running some errands for your lady, but it had mostly healed by now, though it would surely scar.

"Is it feeling better? That was a nasty cut," Eddie asks, moving closer so he can reach out and inspect your palm. He takes your hand carefully, as if you're made of glass, gingerly unwrapping the bandage and scanning the sensitive skin with his eyes. His touch sends an electric buzz under your skin, a longing unfurling in your belly that you force yourself to ignore.

"Oh, uhm, yes. I'm fine," you reply, trying to calm the sudden rush of heat that's flooded your cheeks. "But—Eddie, please. If you won't take the extra payment, then please, just let me do some of your chores or—"

"No. Why would I do that?"

"Why would you not?!"

Eddie laughs, shaking his head and giving you a crooked smile. "Sweetheart, I told you—I did what I did because I wanted to. Because I'm your friend and...I like seeing you happy. Seeing you upset over this whole thing is worse than a month's worth of cleaning duties, honestly."

You frown, biting the inside of your cheek and staring down at the polished tile beneath your feet. "Still, it doesn't feel right, you taking the blame and...punishment for me. I can't stand the thought of you getting in trouble because of something I did, especially when it's...it's not your fault, and you shouldn't have to—"

"I don't think of it as punishment."

"You don't?"

You look up, watching as Eddie's chocolate eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light of the candle-lit hallway. "I've been here longer than you. It would've been much worse if you'd taken the fall."

Eddie's fingers are gentle and warm against your own, his calloused hands brushing over your palm with a feather-light touch. You watch as he carefully wraps the gauze around the wound again, his brows furrowed in concentration as he secures the fabric tightly.

"I think you're being too kind to me," you murmur, feeling your heart race as he brushes a stray lock of hair away from your face. "I don't deserve it."

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head and stepping back with a sigh. "What if I have an ulterior motive?"

You frown, tilting your head in confusion. "Ulterior motive?"

"Mhm. What if I'm only doing it so you'll see how good I am and fall madly in love with me? Hmm?"

You blush, unable to form words as Eddie grins mischievously. "I—you—what?"

"Kidding, sweetheart, I'm kidding," Eddie says with a chuckle, reaching out to gently pat your head. "I'm just trying to make you smile, that's all."

"Well, you're very good at it."

"You think so?"

"Yes," you breathe, surprised by the sudden sincerity in your voice. "I'm glad we're friends, Eddie."

"Me too, sweetheart."

After that night, you couldn't seem to get those stupid words out of your head.

Eddie had been joking, of course. The two of you were close, but he didn't have feelings for you. Of course not. Not like that. How could he? How could someone as sweet and handsome and wonderful as him like you of all people, when there were so many other girls who were prettier, with more money and manners than you could ever hope to achieve?

You sigh and return your focus to where you're meant to be helping your lady get dressed, dutifully lacing the ties of her corset and giving them a good tug.

You know that he'd meant it in good fun. Know that he had most likely forgotten about it as soon as he'd said it—but for whatever reason, you can't seem to.

It's so annoying.

You love Eddie. He is your friend, of course. And while you both had never broached any territory close to a romantic relationship, you aren't stupid or blind. You aren't oblivious enough to the way his dark eyes seem to linger on you for a little too long. To how he holds the door open and gently touches the small of your back whenever the two of you are walking through the castle or descending the grand staircase.

God, you could go on and on and on about him.

"Miss, you seem rather distracted," your lady remarks, causing you to flush with embarrassment. "Did you tie my corset too tight, by chance?"

"Oh—I'm sorry, my lady," you reply, shaking yourself from your thoughts and adjusting the laces once more. "There—how is that?"

"Much better."

After helping her into her dress and pinning her hair into place, you follow her out of her chambers and down the corridor to the grand staircase, where a few other servants are already waiting for her. Tonight you and most of the other servants will finally have some time to yourselves — the family you serve is going to be attending a lavish dinner party with many other high-class members of society.

They're going to be gone for most of the night, and though usually you'd look forward to this sort of thing, you can't seem to muster the same excitement as usual.

You just aren't...feeling it tonight.

You sigh and make your way down the stairs, where the front doors have just opened and your lady and her husband are now heading out to their carriages. Once they're all gone, the rest of the servants will enjoy their rare free time as well, either staying in their quarters or heading into the town. Maybe that's what you should do, you think; go into town and distract yourself from your confusing thoughts about a certain valet, now that you have the luxury of time on your hands and no expectations of anyone.

"Miss, you seem a little flushed. Are you feeling well?" Eddie asks mischievously, stepping up behind you and reaching out to brush his fingers against the back of your neck. "You don't have a fever, do you?"

You jump, startled by the sudden touch and turning to look up at Eddie with a huff. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me like that. You scared me half to death."

"Oh, did I?" Eddie asks, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards into a crooked grin. "Sorry about that."

You roll your eyes and try to suppress the sudden butterflies in your stomach. God, how could you have let yourself fall for someone like him, anyway? He'll be the death of you.

"Is there something on my face?"

"Oh, er...no," you murmur, suddenly feeling very flustered. "I was just lost in thought. I suppose you're also staying?"

"Staying?"

"Here."

Eddie makes a confused face, tilting his head in an adorable expression of perplexity. "Where would I go?"

You frown. It seems unlike Eddie to not find some sort of adventure in the rare and little free time you're given; he's always the first one eager to ride out to town and spend a free evening gambling and drinking with his friends, but this time, he doesn't seem eager to go anywhere at all.

"You...don't want to head into town with the others?" you ask, unsure of whether or not you're prying too much. "I heard the pubs are having a sale on ale and—"

Eddie sighs, running a hand through his curly dark locks and shrugging his shoulders. "Eh. I'm not in the mood, I guess."

You tilt your head, intrigued by his sudden change in behavior. Usually, he's the life of the party, the one who brings a room together with his energy and humor, but now, he seems almost...dejected.

"Eddie, is everything alright? Did something—"

"Fine," he replies a little too quickly, his voice sounding strained. He gives you a forced smile and reaches out to gently touch your shoulder. "Just tired, that's all."

You frown, unconvinced. "If there's something bothering you, you can always—"

"Sweetheart, don't worry, okay?" Eddie murmurs, his dark eyes sparkling in the dim light of the entrance hall. He leans closer, his fingers gently grazing over your cheek, and for a moment, your breath catches in your throat. "Promise."

Before you can say anything else, he's turning on his heel and heading towards the back staircase, his valet uniform swishing behind him as he goes.

You blink, your fingers lightly touching where his hand had been moments before. The sudden brush of his skin had sent electric shocks throughout your body, a heat building up inside your belly that you can't seem to get rid of.

"Excuse me," one of the maids whispers as she walks by, startling you from your trance. "I need to clear this hallway."

"Oh, um...sorry," you reply, flustered. "I'll get out of the way."

By the time you reach the servants quarters, most of the staff that had received permission to go out has already left. Most of the doors are closed, and the sound of chatter and footsteps and laughter fades out into the distance as you head towards your bedroom and gently shut the door behind you.

Your share your room with three other girls, but none of them are anywhere to be seen now.

Thank God.

You sigh, the dull roar of your thoughts finally starting to quiet down as you sit at your small desk and lean your head against the back of the chair.

You can't stop thinking about what had just happened.

Can't stop thinking about the sudden flirtatious behavior and the way Eddie had brushed his fingers against your cheek with a gentleness that made your knees buckle.

With a long, exhausted sigh, you rise to your feet and slowly start to unpin your hair from its tight bun. You replace your uniform with a simple cotton dress, comfortable enough for a night of light reading and...

A knock at your door jolts you from your thoughts.

"Hey, uh...sweetheart?"

You pause, blinking in confusion and taking a few tentative steps towards the door. "Eddie?"

It can't be.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Is something wrong?"

Eddie chuckles softly on the other side of the door, his voice sounding muffled by the heavy oak. "No, nothing's wrong. I, um...I found a jar of wine in the pantry that Mr. Harrington doesn't know about. Thought you might wanna join me?"

You bite your lip, a wave of nerves rushing through your body as you slowly reach out for the door handle. He shouldn't be here and you definitely shouldn't open the door.

But some things are easier said than done.

You carefully turn the knob and pull it back.

He looks downright sinful, his valet uniform unbuttoned at the collar, a few loose strands of hair falling over his forehead, dark eyes sparkling mischievously in the dim light of the hallway.

He holds the jar in his hand, the liquid sloshing around inside and giving off a slight spicy aroma that you can almost already taste on your tongue.

Male servants like Eddie are strictly forbidden from coming anywhere near the women's quarters, and if someone were to find you, it would be a hell of a lot of trouble for both of you.

"I—are you insane?" you whisper, unsure of whether to shut the door in his face or let him in. "If the housekeeper—"

"Come on, sweetheart, live a little. It'll be fun," Eddie murmurs, stepping closer and leaning forward so his face is level with yours. "Trust me."

You stare at him for a few more tense moments, your heart racing and your palms sweaty against the cool brass handle of the door.

Finally, you swallow thickly and step back, making room for Eddie to come inside.

As soon as he crosses the threshold, you shut the door quickly and lean back against it, waiting for the sound of footsteps or yelling or anything that would indicate the presence of another servant or staff member.

"Chill, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs with a smirk, carefully opening the window a crack and lighting a match to ignite a few candles. "Nobody's gonna come looking for us. Everyone's gone."

"Mrs. Byers is not, no," you argue, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff. Most of the time, you like the housekeeper; she is the closest thing to a motherly figure in your life right now. But she's also incredibly strict when it comes to rules. "She's probably somewhere lurking, as always."

Eddie chuckles softly, winking playfully in your direction. "Well, then we'll have to keep it down."

"Oh, for God's sake. Just open it already."

Carefully, Eddie pries the cork off the jar of wine and takes a swig, a grin playing on his lips. He takes a few steps towards you, holding the bottle out for you to take.

"Want some?"

"It's bad for your liver."

"Everything in life is bad for your liver," Eddie replies, tilting his head to the side. "C'mon, sweetheart. It's good."

You glance down at the bottle, taking in the sweet scent of dark cherries and spices, the bright purple liquid swirling around inside like a whirlpool.

You reach out, your fingers brushing against Eddie's as you take the jar and lift it to your lips, taking a sip.

The taste is unlike anything you've ever experienced. It's sweet and tart and spicy and rich, all at the same time, with an intense burst of flavor on your tongue that you never thought possible.

Feeling your skin warm, you hand the jar back to Eddie and watch as he drinks deeply, his eyes sparkling in the soft glow of the candlelight.

"Are you sure no one will miss this?" you ask, glancing down at the bottle and wondering how expensive it might've been. "What if Mr. Harrington finds out?"

"He won't. Not if we don't make too much of a fuss," Eddie replies, his voice growing softer. "I bet nobody's even thought to look for it. And besides, he wouldn't know it was us anyway."

You cross your arms, raising a challenging brow as you sit on the edge of your bed. "How can you be so sure?"

"There's plenty of wine in the cellar," Eddie counters with a grin, putting his hands up as if he's surrendering. "I didn't steal all his wine. I merely took one that was already there."

"Don't take anymore."

"No promises."

"Eddie."

"Sweetheart."

The nickname sends a rush of heat to your cheeks and you shake your head, fighting a smile as you smooth the fabric of your dress.

He takes a swig of the wine, never taking his eyes off you, and leans back against the wall, the familiar scent of him drifting towards you like a wave of summer air.

"It's good, isn't it?" Eddie asks, cocking his head to the side. "And you're, ah...you're really pretty tonight."

You roll your eyes and try not to look too affected, pushing the stupid fluttery feelings back down into your stomach and stomping them out like tiny little sparks. "Are you already drunk?" you ask, chuckling.

"Pfft, no."

"Then why are you suddenly talking nonsense?"

"It's not nonsense," Eddie protests, his ears turning red. He shakes his head and moves closer, setting the wine jar down on the desk and rubbing the back of his neck. "I think you're...really great, sweetheart. Really amazing. In every single way."

"Uh-huh, sure."

You look away, pretending to be interested in something else so that Eddie doesn't have a chance to read the emotions on your face and pick up on all of the pent-up love for him you've stored inside for the last months — love that is, you've decided, better off locked up tightly in the chest in the corner and never spoken aloud.

He looks different in the soft and sultry orange glow of the low-burning candle, though — his curls illuminated by the light, his dark eyes sparkling, his soft lips curved into a gentle smile.

"Hey."

Eddie sits down beside you, and the heat of his body radiates outward and dances across your skin like the waves of a flickering flame.

He smells clean and warm and fragrant, like soap and fresh laundry.

You lean closer, looking up at him through your lashes and watching as he nervously wrings his hands together.

"You know," Eddie murmurs, smiling gently. "You make my life a lot more interesting than it used to be."

"Are you suggesting I cause you a lot of trouble, then?"

"Not at all," he replies, laughing softly and looking back up at you, his expression softening. "More like...just makes me wanna keep coming back to you, over and over. Even when I don't have to. And especially when I need someone to talk to."

You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you let his words sink in. "Is that why you're here right now? To talk?"

He blinks, his tongue swiping out over his lower lip as his gaze drops to your mouth. "Are you drunk, by any chance, sweetheart? Be honest."

"Why would you—"

"Because I'm about to kiss you, and I want you to be sober."

His words come out breathless, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as your lips part in surprise.

"I am...not drunk," you reply, holding his gaze and leaning closer, your hands tingling from his sudden proximity. "I'm entirely in my right mind. Definitely."

He grins crookedly. "Really?"

"Really."

"So, if I did..."

Eddie's voice trails off as he inches forward, his eyes lidding slightly as he moves closer and closer and...

He stops, his nose inches from yours, and the tips of his long fingers gently brush over your chin, lifting your face up to meet his. "This okay?"

"Yes," you manage, your voice hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

"Good."

His lips are soft when they finally brush against yours, gentle and warm and inviting, and you inhale sharply, feeling yourself go weak in the knees.

He tastes like spice and cherry, and you reach out to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, your head spinning as he kisses you back with equal fervor, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck to keep you steady.

You gasp softly, his teeth grazing over your lip and sending a shock of electricity through your core, and you reach out, your fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket as you hold onto him for dear life.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes, panting softly as he finally pulls away. "God, that was good."

"It was," you whisper, looking up at him and biting your lip. "Worth the wait."

"Wait, what?" Eddie asks, raising a brow.

You blink, realizing you'd said that last part out loud and instantly wanting to crawl under the bed and die. "Uhm...nothing."

"Oh, please," he murmurs, smirking. "Tell me more. Did you have to wait a long time for this to happen, sweetheart? Hmm?"

"Absolutely not," you reply a little too quickly. "Forget I said anything."

"Nope, not letting you get away with that. What are you trying to hide, huh? How long have you been harboring secret feelings for me?"

"You're ridiculous."

"Am I?"

You lean back, your body screaming in protest as Eddie gently pushes you back onto the pillows and straddles your hips. He's heavier than you realized, and his fingers are calloused from years of work, but the mere thought of him touching you sends goosebumps up and down your arms and legs.

"Do you like me?" he whispers, his lips brushing against your neck and sending sparks down your spine. "Hmm?"

"Eddie, we—"

"Please, just...just tell me. At least let me hear you say it."

He pulls back, his eyes searching yours as he waits for you to answer. Your heart is racing, blood rushing through your ears and making you lightheaded and dizzy.

"I...no," you whisper, grinning when he raises a brow and scoffs. "Fine. Maybe. Only a little bit."

"Liar."

"Okay. More than a little bit. Maybe...maybe, I even love you, alright? Jesus. There, I said it."

Eddie's jaw drops, his pupils blown wide. "What, seriously?"

"Oh, alright, get off of me. I'm done with you."

"Hey, no, wait, wait, wait, I'm sorry," he breathes, grabbing your wrists and pinning your arms above your head. "Don't—don't go anywhere."

"Eddie."

"Shh."

He chuckles, his warm breath fanning over your lips and making you weak in the knees. "What?" you rasp, struggling against his grip, stubborn in your attempts to stay mad.

"You love me, hm?" he muses, smiling brightly and making your heart skip a beat.

"I take it back."

"You're not allowed to," he breathes, his mouth barely an inch away from yours. "That's not how it works, sweetheart. Sorry."

"You're very annoying."

"And you're very pretty when you're frustrated," he murmurs, brushing his lips over yours. "I...love you too, in case you didn't know."

"You what?"

"Love you," he repeats, his cheeks flushing pink. "Madly. Desperately. Quite embarrassingly, in fact, sweetheart."

You blink, your breath catching in your throat. "Really?

"Really," Eddie breathes, kissing you softly once more. "Shoulda kissed you the second I met you. Wish I had."

"Well," you murmur. "I suppose you'll just have to make up for lost time, won't you?"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie x you #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #amy's flea market #🏷️ amy's flea market

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bakutreats · 3 months

Text

convenience store. bakugou katsuki x gn!reader x monoma neito ?

BAKUTREATS .ᐟ navi. bnha m.list. bakugou 'atfy' m.list.

synopsis .ᐟ your long-time boyfriend pushed aside every effort you've done to keep your relationship afloat, including the birthday party you threw for him. luckily for you, your spiky, blond haired friend was there to take care of you.

content .ᐟ angsty? fluff kinda, monoma neito, toxic relationship, can read bakugou and reader as either friendly or romantic, ooc bakugou? meaner monoma? or maybe it's just the same lmao, this is kinda self-indulgent teehee, some swearing (bakugou)

word count .ᐟ 1,574

It’s Neito’s birthday party, and you planned everything perfectly—even though your boyfriend was... well, he wasn’t as helpful as you’d wanted him to be, but that’s okay! You can work with this; you can give him the best birthday party ever!

Maybe then he’ll appreciate you again.

. . . Unfortunately, he didn’t.

"No, you guys can't throw beer in that vase—" you say as you swiftly grab the vase from Neito's drunk friends and smile nervously. "Wait, be careful, that's fragile—" you say, immediately putting the vase down somewhere safe to go and grab the heart-shaped ceramic bowl, hugging it close to your chest as you laugh awkwardly. You spot Neito by a window, making you sigh in relief. You rush towards him, the heart-shaped bowl still in your arms and close to your chest.

"Neito—could you ask your friends to please be a bit more careful?" The man in front of you scoffed and rolled his eyes, his attention on anything but you.

"You know how my friends are; stop being such a nanny," he snorts, unfolding his arms on his chest.

"Wha—but—wait—"

"You were the one who threw this party, so put up with it. I didn't ask for you to do this, and I didn't ask for you to host the damn thing," he seethed, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide.

You felt yourself grow weak.

The heart-shaped ceramic bowl in your hands fell from your grasp, shattering on the floor. The music was too loud for anyone to notice. Neito scrunched his face in contempt before pushing past you, leaving you alone.

On the day of his party, you managed all of the guests, while the birthday boy partied to his heart’s content. When you finally got some alone time with him to ask for some help in controlling the rowdy crowd, he brushed you off and told you that it was your fault, that he didn’t ask for this party, and that he didn’t want you to host the "damn thing".

You walked outside, on the verge of tears. You didn't even try to clean up the shattered bowl on the floor. You look up, blinking rapidly, your hands balled into fists, and your nails digging into your skin in an attempt to keep you distracted enough so you don't cry. You were hurting, but you couldn't even let it all out because of the guilt and shame that you always carried inside you, because in your head, everything's your fault. But with how many times he's been like this with you, so cruel and cold and. . . angry. You let it go because you were too afraid to lose him. Because you've built something good with him for years, you were afraid to lose that history.

But was it really worth it? Was it worth it to just be pushed aside every single time with no hesitation, no matter what you do? Whether it be a small gesture like making sure his ramen always had that specific type of seasoning or this big gesture of throwing him a party, was nothing ever enough for him?

You bite your bottom lip hard, trying to keep in the screams and wails you want to let out after long years of being treated as if you were dirt on his shoulder. You were already on edge, but what he said. . .

"You were the one who threw this party, so put up with it. I didn't ask for you to do this, and I didn't ask for you to host the damn thing."

He broke your heart like it was nothing. The same way the bowl broke into pieces. Funny, because that bowl was the first gift Neito gave you since the start of your relationship.

It hurts.

"Why the hell're ya outside?"

You look up and see blond, spiky hair and scarlet eyes staring at you confusedly. You couldn't stop it anymore; you couldn't stop the painful lump in your throat, you couldn't stop the tears from streaming down your face, and you couldn't even keep yourself standing anymore, falling on your knees as you sob in your hands. Bakugou's eyes widen, and he immediately rushes over to you, crouching down to your level.

"Woah, woah—what happened?" he asks gently.

"Can—can we go someplace else. . . please."

"Ya should've kicked his face—"

"Bakugou."

The man sighed, a scowl on his face as he looked away and grumbled. You sighed before chuckling, taking a sip from the drink Bakugou bought for you. Before arriving here, Bakugou helped you get into his car a few moments after you told him you wanted to get away. He drove to a nearby convenience store, something he's always done since the both of you were in college.

You knew the blond since your childhood, playing along with him and Midoriya. When he slowly grew up to be someone. . . who you didn't like all too much; you distanced yourself from him. It was in high school when you saw him change bit by bit. From an aggressive, arrogant prick to someone who, well, is still sort of a prick but more mellowed out. You grew close once again in your last year of high school after he pretty much saved your face from a painful blow from a stray volleyball.

You felt a flick to your forehead; you clicked your tongue and furrowed your brows, glaring at the man smirking in front of you with his arms folded together in front of his chest. "Zoning out as usual," he remarks. You shake your head, your lips forming into a straight line as your grip on the drink gets tighter. Negative thoughts clouded your mind, overwhelming you like before. You chugged down your drink, exhaling sharply.

"Why haven't you. . . broken up with him?" he asks, brows furrowed, his eyes staring at the ground. His words were slow, as if he were trying to be gentle and trying to squeeze the words out of his throat. You both stayed silent after that.

"Nevermind—"

"I didn't want to lose everything I built with him."

Bakugou snapped his head back up to face you, looking at you incredulously. His mouth opened but closed a moment later, his lips in a straight line as he put his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. You look away in shame, staring at a random lamp post.

"He was everything to me. We were perfect before; he was sweeter, more caring. . . more loving. Then he got. . . used to it—to me? I don't know. I tried everything I could to make sure this relationship stayed afloat. I genuinely didn't want any of this to be all for nothing. But. . . I only just realized it now that. . . I was the only one trying to salvage this relationship. He probably just. . . decided to give up and let me handle things, I guess.

"I think I already knew deep in my heart, ever since the time where he accidentally broke one of my favorite mugs, and instead of apologizing and telling me he'd fix it or buy something or whatever, he just—he just stood there and stared at me for a moment before telling me to 'go clean it up'.

"That was the first time of many, many times where I let him walk all over me. That birthday party will be the last."

You notice a hint of a smile on Bakugou's lips.

The two of you sit in silence, staring at each other. It was comforting, you think. There were never any moments where the silence between the two of you was awkward or filled with tension. Bakugou Katsuki, no matter how loud and arrogant, never exudes the same aura Monoma Neito does. You never really thought about it until now, because back then, you used to think that Monoma and Bakugou had some similar traits: being pretty arrogant and very loud. You even thought that maybe they'd get along fairly well, so it was to your surprise when you tried to hang out with the both of them one time that they absolutely disliked each other.

But now, after everything that's happened, you come to the understanding that they are quite different from one another.

"Remember the first time you met Neito? You scrunched up your face like you were disgusted, and he did the same. But you didn't tell me to break it off with him; why's that?" you ask, your voice small.

"What the hell was I supposed to defend my shit with? I don't think ya'd listen to me if I just immediately told you to break it off with him, 'specially since, at the time. . . you two were doing well.

"The first time I did tell ya to get the fuck away from him was when ya told me about the 'mug accident'."

You smile sadly. "And I didn't listen."

Sadness took over, and you felt the lump in your throat as waves of gloom washed over you. "I wish I did," you whisper quietly. "So that I didn't have to let this play out for as long as it did."

"Why the hell're ya blamin' yerself? 's not even yer fault that he's an asshole."

"But—"

"Just this once—" Bakugou says, staring at you with eyes that look as if he were. . . pleading with you. "—give yerself some slack."

You stare at him softly before chuckling. "Okay."

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notiddygxthgf · 11 months

Text

10. don't look back

★ pairings: plug!wakasa imaushi x f!reader

★ synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your bf stop you from finding ur hubby)

★ content warning: smut, angst, lotta porn w a lotta plot, car sex, dealer wakasa, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, so much more...

★ a/n: so so so sorry for leaving yall on a cliffhanger like that ughhh!! momma loves u all. anyway not much to say about this one, so enjoy! hope yall brought tissues <3

★ w.c.; 7.1k

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CONFUSION DISTORTED YOUR FACE. Your heart skipped another beat, and then another. The warmth of the room seemed to dissipate, leaving a chilling silence in its wake. The symphony of anticipation within your chest faltered, eyes widening as they scanned the messages on the screen – your phone.

Shit, you thought. Shit, Shit, Shit… you had been foolish enough to leave your phone behind in a drunken haze.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” You murmured softly, your voice betraying your confusion.

“You’re full of shit,” he chuckled humorlessly. His eyes met yours and they were dark, emotionless. “Waka? Of all fucking people, too?”

His voice sent shivers up your spine. It didn’t make any sense; you had done everything right… so, why now? Your eyes fell to the cigar in his hand, white at the tip from the ash. You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “Babe, I don’t even know–”

“Don’t call me that,” He retorted rather bluntly. “Don’t play dumb with me, girl.”

“I’m not playing dumb,” You answered.

“We both saw those fucking messages,” He spat, taking another hit of his cigar before he tapped it into the ashtray. “Least you could do is tell the truth.”

“It’s out of context,” you hissed, in some feeble attempt at getting him to believe you. “It’s not what it looks like, I–”

“WHAT IS IT, THEN?” Takeomi slammed his fist on the table. You jumped at the sound, face burning a bit with the heat of your embarrassment. You wanted to say something, but it appeared as if all coherent thought had successfully left your body. Your mouth was glued shut.

Takeomi shook his head with a sigh, rising from the loveseat in a manner that had you backing away from him. You knew what he was capable of doing to you. Given that the two of you were alone right now, you prepared for the worst. Takeomi had you cornered.

“Cat got your tongue? Shame,” he tutted. Towering over your trembling body, he pulled a hit from his cigar, blowing the bitter smoke out against your face. His eyes were dull, glazed with liquor and anger. Still, you knew it meant nothing good. “Bet you were real loud for him, weren’t ‘ya?”

You froze, paralyzed, like prey being hunted by a predator. Your heart hammered against your ribcage like it wanted to break free. “Takeomi, I…” you swallowed, reaching toward him with a trembling hand. “I know this seems cliche, but I promise, I can explain–”

In the blink of an eye, Takeomi had braced a hand on your chest, shoving you backward into the coffee table. The force of the push sent you flying into it, glass tabletop shattering as ceramic vases tumbled onto the floor. You gasped, clutching your back.

Takeomi flicked his cigar onto the carpet, stomping it out with his shoe. “Listen,” he began, “I’m only g’nna ask you one time, babe. You’ll answer honestly if you know what’s good for you.”

The leather of his shoes crackled as he squatted down to your level. The world was beginning to spin, but the image of his stoic expression glaring down at you was one you would remember forever. He reeked of booze and nicotine, brows drawn low over his stormy grey eyes, black hair falling into his red-tinted face. “Did you cheat on me with my fucking coworker?”

You raised your head in an effort to look at him. Eyes rolling back, you stared up at the ceiling instead. Your mouth felt very dry all of a sudden.

“Say it,” He spat, voice cracking slightly beneath the pressure of his emotions. He was closer to you now than before, face hovering only a foot or two above yours. His eyes were a boiling cesspool of anger and hate. “He’s already on his way here. One of you’s gonna ‘fess up.”

Wakasa was coming. The thought of him being there brought a sense of relief over you, one that was quickly replaced by the realization that he would be walking right into a trap.

He’s already on his way here.

“Take…” you muttered weakly. A groan left your lips the moment you attempted to look him in the eyes. “Please.”

“Tch,” he sucked his teeth. Rather than helping you up or apologizing for shoving you, he dusted his hands off onto his briefs, standing up and then turning away from you. The light caught the arch of his nose as he turned toward the knock that sounded at the front door.

“Just in time,” he remarked. You tried to crawl to your feet, keep him away from that door, but you felt too weak to move. Takeomi stepped right over you, anyway. It didn’t take him long to open it.

“ Sorry I’m late.”

If you had ears like a dog, they would have perked up at the sound of his voice, his song. That low, casual croon that made your heart warm even though you knew it wasn’t right. Your gaze remained on the ceiling, world blurring a bit around the corners. I must have hit my head pretty hard,you thought, rubbing your temples in vain as if that would help ease the slow throb.

“Come in, please,” Your boyfriend replied, allowing Waka to enter his space with such faux generosity that you felt yourself turn toward the sound of his voice in an effort to watch the interaction.

Wakasa was upside down from where you were laying, clad in a black leather jacket and some blue jeans. He scanned the interior of his coworker’s apartment, lavender hues flitting over the living room. He paled visibly when he saw you laying there.

Takeomi shut the door behind the two of them, allowing Waka to process everything that had unfolded before his eyes in such a short period of time. When a minute or so had passed, he clapped a hand over Waka’s shoulder.

“Waka, you’ve met my girlfriend, right?” Takeomi mused.

Wakasa’s mask seemed to slip – if only for a brief moment. Still, as always, he managed to play it cool. “Yeah,” he muttered, licking his lips. “Am I interrupting somethin’?”

You gazed back at him, hoping your eyes relayed the message. Run. Run before it’s too late.

“I got a call from her neighbor, says she had a bike parked in front of her house this morning,” Takeomi continued anyway. He stepped around Waka, folding his arms behind his back. “I don’t have a bike.”

Wakasa furrowed his brows, tilting his head. He amazed you, still, with his innate ability to keep that poker face in even the most perilous of situations. “Okay…” he trailed off. The confusion seemed genuine. He had you fooled for a moment. “Where are you going with this?”

The grin on your boyfriend’s face was anything but welcoming. He shook his head and then looked at Waka like he had every intention to kill him. “You fucking my bitch, man?”

You felt your heart plummet. This was it, you thought. Waka was going to fess up to it. This little illusion the two of you had was about to come crashing down. The glass beneath your wounded arm shifted as you tried to get to your feet.

To your surprise, Wakasa didn’t even flinch at his words, instead drawing up a brow and sparing a brief glance your way. He looked at Takeomi as if to say, Really?

You had to admit, the act was convincing.

Poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, Takeomi nodded. “Figured you’d try ‘n lie your way out of this,” he muttered. His words were a bit slurred together, stumbling drunkenly for a moment as he reached into the interior pocket of his coat. The object he produced was shiny and silver, glinting beneath the lamplight as he turned it toward his coworker.

With wide eyes, you gasped, clawing at the floor.

“You bet’ta fess up, Imaushi, ‘M not fuckin’ playing,” He slurred. The veins in his hand popped, fingers tensed around the grip of his gun.

“Take,” Wakasa sighed, still remarkably calm considering he had a gun aimed at his head. You knew it was all an act, of course, but you had to give credit where it was due. Even if the timing wasn’t necessarily appropriate. “You’re drunk. Put the gun down.”

“How long has this been goin’ on behind – hic – my back?” Takeomi pressed further.

“I’m not fuckin ‘yer girl, man,” Wakasa shook his head. “The hell are you on about?”

Takeomi held a finger up to the shorter man, shoving his hand back into his pocket and rummaging around until he found your phone. He fiddled around with it for a bit and then turned the screen over.

The room went quiet in an instant, tension pending in the air as Wakasa squinted at the tiny screen. You found yourself doing the same. Bracing your hands on the glass-speckled floor, you stumbled to your feet.

“Say hi to the camera, baby.”

With a gasp, you covered your mouth. The tips of your ears turned red. Shit. He found the video.

“Taking it so well…”

“Waka–!”

“We– hic– well?” Takeomi grumbled. If he didn’t have a gun pointed at Wakasa, you probably would have laughed at the way he stumbled forward. “That’s not you?”

Wakasa quirked a brow, leaning in to get a closer look. The corner of his lip twitched as he licked it. His eyes darted between the phone in Takeomi’s hand – the screen where you knew your vulva was spread open on display for a live studio audience – and the gun.

The sound of your own voice nearly brought you to hysterics. You were mortified.

Finally, he sighed. “I mean, shit, man,” he offered after a lengthy pause. “That’s some pretty solid evidence there, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Takeomi’s eyes locked with yours in a dance of torment and love mingled with betrayal, hatred clashing with the shattered fragments of trust. The tears that had begun pooling in your eyes earlier streamed down your tender cheeks as you pleaded with him silently.

He turned the barrel of the gun towards you, and for a moment – a brief, fleeting moment – you saw Wakasa’s mask break, eyes widening as he watched it happen.

“Six years,” Takeomi reiterated, stepping away from Wakasa and inching closer to you.

Your efforts to back away from him were ultimately in vain, you realized the moment you felt your back collide with the wall. Takeomi had you cornered – again – as he waved the gun in your direction.

“Take, please…” You pleaded with him, face stained with tear marks. Your voice trembled beneath the weight of his unspoken threat. “I–”

“SIX FUCKING YEARS,” He shouted, the force of his voice causing you to jump. The anger seemed to be gnawing at him on the inside, anguish and hatred waging war within him, a tempest of conflicting emotions threatening to put an end to this once and for all. He appeared to stand before you on the precipice of a decision, torn between the love that had once bound the two of you and the searing pain of betrayal. His voice broke, “Was it not enough for you?”

You hadn’t realized he had backed you up against the wall until you felt the chill from the metal barrel press against your neck. His other arm kept you pinned in place.

His eyes were wild, watering a bit as he looked at you for a moment. He cocked his gun, though the quiet click seemed to be amplified tenfold. His hair fell into his face. “I want answers,” he whispered.

“Take, put the fucking gun down!” Wakasa shouted somewhere behind him. He seemed closer than he was before, like he had inched closer to your manic boyfriend, although you weren’t about to crane your neck around to find out.

Takeomi’s bloodshot eyes flickered with a mix of confusion and rage, a fire surging with him that was fueled by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

Then his finger tightened around the trigger.

Wakasa lunged forward, tatted arm appearing in your field of vision as he reached to grab Takeomi’s wrist.

Your breath caught in your throat as the scene unfolded before you. You held your breath. The seconds seemed to tick away, each one passing slowly as Waka bravely reached for the gun. You held your breath.

With a sudden surge of determination, like your tears had spurred him on, Waka managed to pry the gun from Takeomi’s trembling hand. The weapon clattered as it hit the ground.

In the deafening silence that followed, Wakasa tucked a blond stray behind his ear, sending the gun sliding away from the scene with a small kick.

Before the relief had even settled in, Takeomi turned on his heel and lunged at Wakasa with a wild swing. His alcohol-addled coordination betrayed him, however, as he tripped over his own feet – missing by an inch or two as he fell over the backside of the couch.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him tumble over the edge.

Wakasa’s head turned quickly as he called out to you. “I’m parked outside,” he hissed. “Go, now.”

He pulled a wireless key fob out of his pocket – you could see the silver detailing of the BMW logo glint beneath the dim living room lighting as he tossed it to you.

“Wait, Waka–” You breathed, voice a hushed whisper. Still, you caught it.

“Get in the fucking car, NOW,” He commanded you. One look into his wide eyes reminded you that he wasn’t asking.

At that moment, your heart seemed to stop beating altogether. The room seemed to shrink around you. Without a second thought, you pushed yourself off of the wall and made a beeline for the door. The adrenaline surged through your veins, pushing you past your limit, pushing you towards freedom while your legs threatened to give.

You could still hear Wakasa’s voice echoing in the back of your mind, urging you to run while you had a chance. The urgency in his tone fueled you further and further, drowning out the chaos behind you. It wasn’t until you reached the door that you paused to glance back over your shoulder.

“You leave now and we’re fucking done,” Takeomi warned you. He had braced himself on his elbows.

Wakasa was stepping over the sideways couch, hair down over his back and covering his face with a hair tie stretched open on his fingers. He scooped a few handfuls of hair up behind his head. His wrists twisted with expert precision as he tied it back. His neck cracked with a quick crane of his head to the right.

Sensing what was about to go down, you turned away, throwing the door open and making your escape. You let the door shut behind you, stepping out into the cool night air. Your chest heaved for a moment.

You pressed your ear against the door, tears streaming down your cheeks as your emotions enveloped you. You felt horrible leaving Waka to fend for himself, but you would have felt worse if you went against his word.

So, pulling your clothes tight against your trembling body, you ducked and entered the street. The midnight sky blanketed Waka’s black Mercedes. It looked like it had recently been polished.

You unlocked the door and plopped into the passenger seat. The moment you shut the door, the tears came pouring out. Your hand continued to grip the handle of the door with white-knuckled intensity. The air inside of the car felt all but suffocating, as if the weight of your actions hung from each and every molecule around you. Panic gripped you, tightening its hold with each rapid beat of your frightened heart.

Teary eyes blurred your vision. Your lover’s words echoed – again, for the millionth time – in your mind.

“Get in the fucking car, NOW.”

He’d sounded so angered, so tired of you. How had everything unraveled so quickly?

The sound of your own uneven breathing was the only thing keeping you company in the car, ragged breaths fogging up the window to your right. Tossing the key fob into the cupholder, you turned towards that foggy window, pressing your hot cheek against its cold surface. The chill was refreshing, even if a part of you felt bad for leaving prints on Waka’s freshly cleaned windows.

You didn’t care. Your mind was alight with possibilities – with fear and uncertainty. Where would you go? What would happen to you now that the cat was out of the bag?

Clutching at your throat, you ached for air, desperate for a moment of clarity. But the walls of Waka’s Benz seemed to close in on you. Images of the fight flashed through your mind. The reality of your actions crashed upon the desolate shores of your rotten mind like a tidal wave, overwhelming your senses and drowning you in a sea of guilt. You couldn’t escape the consequences of your betrayal, the pain that had been etched on Takeomi’s face forever imprinted in your mind.

You felt terrible.

A sob wrenched itself from the depths of your soul. Then another.

The world was hazy, disorienting, as if reality had been warped by the weight of your guilt. For a few minutes, you sat there, mind spinning a mile a minute. You wrapped your arms around yourself, seeking temporary solace in the touch of your own skin.

When the driver’s side door suddenly popped open, you jumped in your seat. You made quick work of your salty tears, wiping them away from your face while you tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

Waka dropped into the driver's seat with an exasperated sigh. Though your eyes trained themselves on the dashboard, you could see him reach for the steering wheel out of the corner of your eye. He looked a little messy. His clothes were disheveled, his hair was in a similar state. His knuckles were dusted with a faint red hue.

After a brief pause that seemed to span for an eternity, he offered, “Buckle in.”

You did exactly that.

The car revved to life. The buttons on the dash lit up in unison. Waka gripped the steering wheel, throwing his other arm over the back of your seat and glancing behind him before turning back to the road. He pulled out of the parking spot without another word.

And then he took off.

★

The ride to your house was as silent as it was tense. It wasn’t very long, seeing as you only lived ten minutes away. That ten was more like five today, though you weren’t sure if it was because a part of you wanted to stay in this car with Waka just a little while longer or because Waka had been doing double the speed limit the whole way over.

The car rolled to a stop in front of your place, and that dreadful, gnawing feeling in your gut had returned, bringing the tension in the car back with it. You folded your hands neatly in your lap, awaiting Waka’s next words.

You were expecting him to shout at you, to lash out at you like an angry father. Like your father, like your boyfriend (ex boyfriend?).

You hadn’t been expecting him to turn the car off, and you most certainly hadn’t expected him to cast a sorrowful glance your way, brows drawn low over his pretty eyes.

“Sorry I yelled at ‘ya,” he sighed. What surprised you even more was the way he reached out to graze a gentle hand over your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. He added, “Take’s fuckin’ crazy. I didn’t want him hurtin’ you.”

It was becoming a bit of a chore to continue breathing normally when he was so close to you. You needed to leave now before you dug yourself a deeper hole, you decided, reaching for the door.

Waka beat you to it. In the blink of an eye, he’d reached over your lap and pulled the door shut. He kept you pinned to the seat with his arm.

“Fuck you,” you seethed. You were frustrated, you were confused – before you knew it, you began to cry.

“I just wanna talk,” He reaffirmed. His words did nothing to calm your nerves.

Your hands trembled as you struggled to find the words to convey how you felt. The car seemed a lot smaller than it had been only moments prior. You took a deep breath, voice quivering beneath the weight of her accusation.

“You ruined everything,” You sobbed, voice barely a notch above a whisper, eyes now locked with Waka’s in a heated standoff. The pain etched on your features made your jaw tighten.

None of this would have happened if you'd never met him.

Waka’s expression was unreadable, a tick in his jaw was the only indicator that your words had hit the mark. “Yeah, it’s all my fault, ‘course it is,” he retorted, voice tinged with an uncharacteristically bitter tone. “Not like you willingly invited me into your room or anythin’.”

Your eyes narrowed, gaze challenging his stance even though you knew he was right. “You gave me your number first… you knew I had a boyfriend, you dick.”

Waka’s expression changed slightly, allowing you a glimpse into what you imagined was a pretty deep pool of anger. “You texted me, doll.”

He was right. Again. The realization made you break a bit inside.

Your voice quivered with unspoken emotion as you let the tears fall freely. “You’re such an ass, you know that? Why’d you have to come around and fuck me over?”

“Oh, don’t even,” he snapped back. “I risked it all for you. I did everything I could, and ‘yer gonna sit here and blame me?”

The silence that followed was heavy, settling between the both of you like a brick wall as the both of you exchanged angry gazes. The tension in the car built up.

“I never wanted it to come to this,” You spoke louder this time, heartbroken and vulnerable. “You took everything from me.”

“Don’t pretend this wasn’t a mutual decision,” He shook his head at you, chuckling humorlessly. “You are every bit as guilty ‘s I am and you know it.”

You froze. He continued.

“Deep down you know you wanted me to keep coming ‘round,” he added rather cockily. He cocked his head to the right, beckoning you to try and prove him wrong. “You loved it, didn’t ‘ya?”

Another brief pause had passed, and your anger had reached its boiling point. Without thinking, you raised your hand, bringing it towards the side of his face like you wanted to hit him. But Waka – quick on his feet, as always – reflexively caught your hand mid-swing, preventing the slap from landing.

Time seemed to freeze altogether.

Your eyes widened, hand suspended in the air a mere inch or two away from Waka’s face. His grip on your hand was firm, strong, a harsh reminder of a fact you had apparently forgotten; You didn’t stand a chance against him.

The two of you fell into an uneasy silence as you locked eyes, the intensity of the moment palpable.

Waka’s voice was steady, his grip unyielding. He looked – for a moment – as if he wanted to say something to you, remind you of who you were talking to. Before long, however, his anger softened, as did his gaze.

“I’m not sorry for what I did,” he mused. His eyes never flitted away from yours, even for a moment, even as he pulled you closer to him. “Even if I could go back ‘n change the past, I would still pick you. Every time.”

His breath was soft, mint-scented, and fresh. You felt your resolve crack. You wanted to scream at him, to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him until your lungs gave out. You hated the way he made you feel.

The car was filled with a heavy silence as your tears streamed down your reddened cheeks. Your heart squeezing painfully, you reached out, hand weakly forming a fist, and feebly punched Wakasa’s chest.

“I hate you,” You whispered, knowing you didn’t mean a word of it.

Waka’s eyes filled with sorrow as he caught your fist, gently holding it against his chest. You could feel his heart beating in synchrony with yours. A moment passed, agonizingly slow, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, a bittersweet collision of love and resentment.

Then, to your surprise, he did the unthinkable.

“Let’s stop seeing each other,” his honey-sweet croon pierced through the silence, his tone resolute.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Shoving yourself away from him, you shot him an incredulous look. The road ahead seemed to blur as you tried to wrap your head around his proposition.

“What…?” You had asked in vain.

The confined space of the car seemed to amplify the tension. The world outside seemed to stop spinning for a moment. This was the same car where he’d first swept you off your feet so many nights ago. Now, like some sort of cruel joke, the image before you paralleled the memory. His unexpected words hung heavy in the air.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore. In fact, he looked a little down about it, like he was having doubts of his own about the decision.

“I never should’da gotten you involved in all of this mess… I can fend for myself with him but… I know you can’t,” He said remorsefully. He seemed… genuine. When his eyes met yours, it was as if you had fallen for him a second time. “It’s too dangerous. We need to stop seein’ each other.”

In the span of a minute, Wakasa had managed to tear your heart right out of your chest.

“No…” You did a complete 180. You were so weak for him that you hated it. But, shit, how you loved the feeling. “I can’t lose you too, Waka, I…”

“I’m not asking,” He deadpanned. You felt your heart plummet.

“You’ve gone cold on me,” You whimpered. You didn’t care if you sounded desperate. You knew your blood burned for him. “Waka, that’s not fair… please.”

“I need to protect you,” Waka’s eyes were filled with bittersweet longing – like this was breaking him, like he wanted to reach out and caress you but he knew he couldn’t… just as much as you did. “I have to do this. ‘S for your own good.”

Your mind raced to make sense of the cryptic words that had spilled from his pretty lips. “‘Kasa,” you breathed.

When he spoke again, his mask cracked a little more. “You know as much ‘s I do that he’s gonna go on a manhunt. I dun’no what I’d do if somethin’ happened to you ‘cause of me, doll, I…” His voice trembled a bit. He took a moment to regain his composure. “Me leaving would be the best thing for you. For both of us.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. God, this hurt. You knew it would come eventually, but, shit, you hadn’t expected it to hurt so bad. Your voice cracked, “You’re ending things to protect me? Without giving me a choice? What happened to “if Takeomi weren’t in the picture” ?”

Wakasa squeezed his eyes shut. His hands tightened into fists. “We’re done. We can’t do this again.”

“I’m telling you we can’t see each other again. Okay?”

For a moment, Wakasa looked like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to make you stay. Worst of all, you kind of wanted him to.

Eventually, he answered, “You can pretend it never happened, but I’ll know. You’ll know.”

Your heart squeezed painfully at the memory. It’s funny how history repeats itself.

“I can’t lose what we have,” You shook your head. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, I… I don’t know what I’d do without you. We can make this work, I know we can.”

You continued after a lengthy inhale. “I can’t let this go over fear… no, not unless I know you’re doing it because you don’t want this.”

Deep down, you knew you were fighting a losing battle. Your heart ached for him. You couldn’t let this go. Not after you had given up so much just to be with him, no, not yet. Just a moment longer.

You reached out for him, hand hesitantly searching for his, seeking solace in the midst of the turmoil even though you knew you had already lost.

You needed him. You realized that the moment the thought of a life without him had even crossed your mind. You knew it from the moment the two of you had sworn off intimacy in that shower together. No, you knew it from the first moment your eyes had met his. Wakasa had wedged his way deep into the tissue of your rotten heart.

You were in love with him.

“We can leave it behind. Start fresh,” You pleaded with him, gripping his cold hand. “Don’t you want that?”

He stayed quiet. He wanted it as much as you did, you knew that. He ached for you too. But when you squeezed his hand and it remained limp in your palm – without so much as a squeeze back – you knew it was too late. Like the life drained from the veins of a corpse, Waka had gone cold.

Lowering your head toward his hand, you sobbed. You had never stopped crying, not since he had proposed that the two of you stop seeing each other. Yet, now, it seemed that the tears were streaming down your face rapidly. Like the torrent waters of a river cutting through earth and soil, they poured down.

“I love you, Wakasa, I can’t… I…” You trailed off, at a loss for words at the absence of his own. Who knew this would hurt so badly? “You love me too, don’t you? Tell me that you love me too.”

The car fell silent, once again bringing back the memory of you sitting here in this same spot calling things off with him only a while ago. The weight of your desires hung in the air.

Wakasa’s eyes were full of regret. He shook his head, taking his hand out of your grasp, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

You felt your heart shatter. You recoiled as if you had been struck by some invisible, unforeseen force. Then, you let Waka’s hand slip from your touch.

Slowly, to your surprise, he pulled you into another hug, wrapping his arms around your trembling form. Your heart thumped wildly against your chest, torn between the comfort of his touch and the impending heartbreak that lingered in the air. He was confusing you.

He muttered. With a gentle squeeze, he held you closer, “‘M sorry. This life ain’t for you, doll.”

Your body stiffened against his, still struggling to process everything that had been dumped on you in the span of two hours. You clung to him like it would be the last embrace the two of you ever shared – no, because it would be the last embrace the two of you ever shared.

“No, please, don’t do this to me,” You pleaded brokenly. “I need you, ‘Kasa.”

“You know I have to do this,” He held you like he shared the sentiment, like he, too, wanted to make the most of what could very well be the last time the two of you saw each other like this. “No happy endings, remember?”

After this, he would be nothing but a stranger. The thought made you want to hurl.

You had never felt so alone before.

Was this love?

Your whole body shook with the force of your sobs. Waka gently brushed your tears away. His voice, dripping with tenderness and sorrow, seeped into your soul. “This is goodbye, okay?”

No, you thought. I won’t accept this.

You pulled away from him. “You’re a fucking coward,” you whispered between sobs. “I hate you.”

Waka's eyes met yours, his gaze soft and understanding, yet it only fueled the flames of your anger. How could he claim to comprehend the depths of your pain, the intricacies of your shattered heart? His tenderness felt like a cruel mockery at that moment, intensifying your resentment towards him.

“I know,” He nodded, as if accepting your accusation, though his expression revealed a profound sadness. It was as if he had heard those words before, and carried the weight of similar accusations. But his quiet acceptance only stoked the fire of your fury, fueling the bitterness that threatened to consume you.

Yet, despite your anger, there was a part of you that couldn't help but notice the sincerity in his gaze, the flicker of pain that danced in his eyes. It was a contradiction that confused and infuriated you even further. How could he evoke such conflicting emotions within you? How could he still have the power to touch your heart, even in the midst of your rage?

Feeling a surge of defiance amidst the sea of anguish, you pulled away from him, the anger within you bubbling to the surface. With a sudden burst of energy, fueled by your fractured heart, you swung open the car door and stumbled out onto the pavement.

"I wish I never fucking met you," you seethed, the words torn from the depths of your wounded soul. You wish you meant it.

Then you slammed the door shut.

The words hung in the air, charged with the intensity of your pain. Each syllable reverberated through the silence, cutting through the stillness of the night. And as the echoes faded into the darkness, you turned on your heel and stormed off, leaving Waka behind

With each step you took, the anger within you burned brighter, fueling your determination to distance yourself from the source of your heartache.

A call of your name shook you out of your angered reverie. You knew you shouldn’t stop, that you should have kept marching right on. Yet, you couldn’t help but turn to look back at him one more time.

He made you feel so weak.

He had rolled the window down. In his hand, he had your pink slipper. It was then that you realized you were missing a shoe.

“You left this,” He noted, waving it toward you.

You refused to give him that satisfaction. Shaking your head at him through teary eyes, you spat, “Keep it, asshole.”

You turned your back on him again – for the last time – and stormed off. Every stride carried you further away from the wreckage of a love that had once blossomed but now lay in ruins. The words you had spoken, filled with bitterness and regret, echoed in your mind, a desperate attempt to sever the ties that still bound you to Wakasa

Yet, deep down, beneath the layers of anger and pain, a part of you yearned for the impossible—to undo the meeting that had led to this heartache. It was a futile wish, born out of the shattered remnants of a love that had once promised happiness.

Don’t look back, you thought.

And you didn’t. Not even as you fumbled for the keys in your pocket and unlocked the door to your house. Not even when you slammed the door shut behind you. Not even when you collapsed against the door, letting a gut-wrenching sob out the moment you found yourself in the safety of your own home.

And even when you sank to the floor in tears, fighting the urge to throw that door open again and run into his arms, you found yourself repeating the phrase like a mantra.

Don’t look back.

heyyyyy 😓😓 how yall doin.... no but fr how are we feeling after this one? could this be the end of waka??? (it isn't.) im not too confident abt this chapter even tho I put my whole pussy into it... I promise the next one will be infinitely better TRUUUSSSSST!!! to make up for the way I chewed your hearts up and spat them out this chapter (sorry lol) I will say!! stay tuned for the next episode of party monster featuring cameos from sano shinichiro, daddy benkei, and another character who I can't tell u abt yet!! (also who knows we may or may not get a chapter from wakas pov.... who knows.... u aint hear it from me) yk the drill tho, drop ur thoughts predictions and requests in the comments, I love listening to yall ;)) see u next chapter!! <33

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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skyward-floored · 7 months

Text

Hi hello, I got inspired by a thing and wrote an Incredibles au fic about Malon and Hyrule this afternoon, hope you all enjoy :)

I felt so bad for Hyrule writing this aaaah he’s just a little guy... good thing he has Malon <3

Ao3

————————————————————

CRASH

Malon jumped at the sound of something breaking in the kitchen, nearly dropping the basket of laundry she was holding. There was a telling silence after the crash, and she felt a surge of exasperation, squeezing her eyes shut.

It had already been a stressful day— Wind was sick, and Legend was starting to come down with something as well, and Malon had gotten behind in the laundry checking up on the two of them. Four had been clingy up until she’d put him down for a nap, and she’d also had to break up no less then three separate arguments between Wild and Legend, the latter extra grumpy because of his sore throat. Malon’s patience was rapidly unraveling, and this was just the icing on the cake.

She held in a groan, and set down the basket, tromping into the kitchen with her hands on her hips.

“Wild, if you broke my vase because you haven’t been being careful with your super speed again, then you’re going to be in some serious trouble mister—”

But Wild wasn’t who Malon found when she walked into the kitchen. Rather Hyrule was standing next to the sink, eyes wide as he stared down at the mess of what looked like a shattered cup, broken pieces and spilled water all over the floor.

“...Hyrule? What happened?” she asked, surprised at not seeing the usual culprit. “Did you drop a cup?”

He startled at her voice, and seemed at a loss for words, looking between her and the mess without saying anything. Malon raised an eyebrow when he didn’t reply, and gestured to the mess again.

“Hyrule, did you drop your glass? Or did somebody else?”

Malon took a step towards Hyrule as she spoke, but the second she did, his shoulders shot up, and he quickly stepped back from her.

“I-I did, but I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Hyrule said frantically, backing away from Malon. “I’ll— I’ll fix it, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

She immediately stopped moving towards him, looking at Hyrule in surprise at his reaction.

“Honey, it’s only a glass, you don’t have to be upset,” she said with a worried look, but Hyrule only seemed to get more panicked, backing away until his back hit the wall.

“I’m sorry, it— it was an accident! I wasn’t trying to, I’m sorry I’m sorry—”

“Hyrule, it’s okay—”

“I’m sorry! Please don’t punish me!”

His voice broke on the words, and Malon studied him for a moment, alarm bells ringing in her mind. All of a sudden she realized what was happening, and her heart fell straight to her shoes.

Hyrule must have had this happen to him before, when he wasn’t living with them.

During the period of his life he refused to talk about.

Oh.

“Link,” Malon said steadily, as Hyrule sank to to the ground, curling up on himself at the name. Oh no, bad choice. “...Hyrule,” she tried again, “it’s okay, I’m not mad.”

Her son had begun to shake, his eyes welling with tears, and Malon was starting to feel at a loss, unsure of how to help without making him more upset. She looked around, then carefully lowered herself to her knees, far away enough to not crowd Hyrule, but close enough to provide comfort if he decided he wanted it.

“Hyrule,” Malon said softly, and he looked at her with a scared expression. “It’s okay. It was an accident, and we can easily clean it up. I’m not going to punish you for making a mistake.”

“B-but I broke it, I was clumsy, I’m sorry I—”

“Honey, it’s okay,” Malon soothed. “I can’t tell you how many times your father has knocked into things and broken them because of his eye. Maybe I get annoyed at him for a little while, but he never does it on purpose, and we clean it up together.”

Hyrule didn’t say anything, tears still slipping down his nose.

Malon bit her lip, then cautiously scooted closer to her son, making sure he was okay with it before moving. Hyrule watched her sharply, but didn’t move away, and she carefully set her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it with soft circles when he didn’t throw her off.

Hyrule slowly relaxed at her touch, and his shoulders lowered. His shaking began to still as they sat there in silence, and eventually he let Malon move closer, until she was right next to him.

“It’s okay, honey,” Malon repeated in a gentle voice, and Hyrule wiped his nose on his sleeve. She exhaled, and brushed some tears off his cheek, then met his eyes. “It’s only a cup. I know it was an accident.”

“You’re not gonna hu... do anything?” Hyrule whispered, and Malon shook her head.

“Oh honey, no,” she said in dismay, and pulled him into a hug, loose enough that he could pull away if he wanted to. He didn’t though, instead sinking into her arms with a quiet sigh. “It was an accident. Everyone breaks things sometimes, you didn’t do anything wrong. After all, it’s not like you emptied my cupboard and started throwing cups just to be destructive.”

Hyrule let out a soft giggle, so small Malon could barely hear it, but it warmed her heart anyway.

“It’s okay,” she repeated, and Hyrule rested his head on her shoulder. She sat with him on the floor for a while longer even though she had things to do, holding him while he finished calming down. Everything else could wait right now.

“I’m really sorry I broke it,” Hyrule whispered after a while, and Malon ran a gentle hand through his hair.

“I know. And it’s okay, Hyrule. It was an accident.”

She pulled back and smiled at him a little worriedly, brushing a hand through his hair again.

“Now let’s make sure you don’t have any glass stuck in you, then we can clean up this mess,” she said warmly, and Hyrule nodded, looking relieved. Malon helped him up, and over to a chair so she could check him over, and cleaned the few tiny pieces of glass from his foot.

But even as Malon bandaged up Hyrule’s foot, and he helped her clean up the shattered cup, the image of him begging her not to do anything to him stayed in her head, making her chest hurt more and more every time it replayed.

Nobody is going to hurt you like that again, Link, she promised silently as he helped her sweep up the last of the glass. Nobody.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu hyrule #lu Malon #Incredibles au #linked universe fanfic #writing from the floor #modern au #...ish #incredibles au fic #mild injury #ask to tag #whew I think that’s it #yes I was writing this instead of whumptober fics haha #enjoy

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xxsycamore · 1 year

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Hello, can i ask for sex pollen with Clavis?😳

Maybe you can 😳 My requests aren't open though... it would be very bad if I get inspired and write this on a whim!!

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

↬ 🌹 Clavis gives you a bouquet of some really special flowers.

Clavis Lelouch x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Sex Pollen; Aphrodisiacs; Flowers; Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; thigh kink; Vaginal Sex; Multiple Orgasms; Creampie• wordcount: 2,325 • masterlist

"I already told you. Those are Rosa Lelouchiae. An extraordinary flower for an extraordinary woman."

Made-up etymology aside, you're surprised to see actual results born from Clavis' claims that he's making a new flower in his name especially for you. You're not sure what the process entails, but he did tell you he recently laid his hands on a special fertilizer that is supposed to enhance petal growth, color...even scent. From there on, he just tweaked the formula a little bit.

True, the bouquet looks like nothing you've seen before - resembling the roses you're familiar with, but only somewhat - and bright purple in color. You're far from excluding the idea that he might've gotten those from his many connections abroad, but for the sake of not disappointing him, you're going to will yourself to believe in your lover's skills.

"They're lovely. Thank you so much, darling!"

Clavis grins at the nickname, his teeth showing for a brief second before his smile grows wider and sweeter. "I hope the scent is to your liking."

Prompted to take another whiff, you flare your nostrils to let the scent engulf your senses... oh, that's better than some perfumes you've caught around here. And that speaks a lot when you're in the circles of nobility.

It's almost like it soothes your brain, the way smelling a hot cup of tea at the end of a tough day would work away the tension built in your temples until your brows are not unconsciously furrowed anymore... or like a harmonious melody that makes you stop in your tracks and listen because it pulls you off your thoughts.

"-of the pigmentation. Are you with me, dear?"

"Oh? Uh-huh, I was just... Those smell really well, Clavis! Here, hold them for me, please? I'll be right back."

You only hear his trademark laughter as you hurriedly cross the room to look for a vase, quickly picking yourself up after that strange spacing out you experienced. Maybe you're just tired.

When you return, Clavis is holding the bouquet close to his nose, his smile hidden behind the colorful paper they're wrapped in - and without the chance to judge it, you're unable to read his gaze that is holding yours. But it's strangely intense.

Before you can react, the vase slips from your hold and falls to the floor, shattering in a hundred pieces. With the sound still ringing in your ears, you panicky bend to pick them up, but a gloved hand coves yours before it can touch the sharp pieces.

"Watch out, you could hurt yourself. Are you alright, dear? Do you need to lie down? Your face seems red."

Does it now? It certainly feels like it, now that he mentioned. Your hands are remarkably colder when you touch your cheeks, and you approach the bed to take a seat. Somehow, even getting there troubles you, but it's not like you're out of breath. Your heart suddenly pumps up blood faster, but you get enough air, because your mouth has fallen open unintentionally to draw it in. It's when a quiet groan leaves it that you realize - and clutch your jaw shut.

"Lay down, easy now. Tell me what you're feeling."

Clavis' tone is concerned and you'd hate to make him worry, but it's also great that you have a lover who is knowledgeable in this department. You're sure it's a momentary thing, with pain being the last thing you're currently feeling.

"I'm just a little hot. Maybe after laying down for a while I'll feel better! Do you want to keep me company?"

It's a little sad, how this could've been the perfect little date, with your plans for today and all that. Though, you're positive it will still end in spending time with Clavis, one way or another. A little time made for lying down and then you could go about other activities. Or maybe he could lie down next to you.

Or maybe he could cuddle you, or something. You were dying to kiss him earlier when he gave you these pretty flowers. Why didn't you pull him in a kiss?

When was the last time you and Clavis had sex, actually? Why does it have to be a date outside the palace? Would it be that bad if he just got you naked and-

Where did those thoughts come from?!

"Here, let me."

You shriek and nearly jab at his hand when he starts unbuttoning the top buttons of your blouse. He looks at you with those wide amber eyes, utterly puzzled.

"You said you were hot, dear?"

Oh.

"Yes, that's better, thank you... wait, Clavis, are you okay?"

With the way he got on top of you for the sake of helping you out, his face is now close enough to make out the evident...blush that was spreading on it. Coupled with half-lidded eyes. It reminds you awfully lot about his state in the morning when he stays up late the previous night.

"Me? Well, I too feel a little hot, to be frank. Must be because of you, haha!"

Now that was such a bad lie, and he knows it. The fingers carding through his ashy purple locks ruin his perfectly combed hairstyle and make him look more of a mess. A hot mess.

"Mm?"

Did you say that out loud? The strange boldness taking shape within you tells you it's no big deal. On the next rising of your chest - that feels awfully restricted by the way, so you reach to undo one more button - your lungs fill with more of the strong scent of those mysterious flowers, and thus you're reminded of their existence. They were abandoned at the little decorative table by the window... you should probably attend to them soon. But you're rather distracted, especially now that Clavis shifts to a more comfortable position on top of you.

"I don't know about being a mess yet, my love, but I do agree that I'm hot - so, if you'd let me, I'll take a layer or two off."

"Two."

You giggle the second his expression turns surprised again, bringing the knuckle of your forefinger between your teeth in mischief. The man above you flashes a smirk and nods, as if you've dictated something wise and reasonable - and follows it.

"No fair, darling. Now you're more dressed than me."

You have no idea when Clavis took off his gloves too but you're playfully trying to prevent him from unbuttoning your blouse all the way, and you note that his hands are the same temperature as yours, as the fire from your face has spread all across your skin. You have to admit, the more naked you get, the better it feels, and you wiggle and try to get him to take it all off you.

He makes clothes disappear like a magician as you turn around in bed and raise your rear to make the process even faster when he gets to your underwear, taking a note about how good it feels where the cool bedsheets rub against your naked skin. The sensitive nubs at the top of your breasts are stimulated and perked up by the friction and you want more of it. But you know the man above you can give you much more than that and you don't even have to ask.

"Clavis, there you go burring your face between my thighs again! You wanted that as soon as you set foot inside my room, is that not right?"

With wet kisses pressed against the delicate skin of your inner left tight, Clavis has to halt the loving assault on the right one to answer you, starting with a troubled sigh but finishing it off with a hint of laughter. "You know me so well, how could I not think those filthy things when I have a lady like you by my side? Or maybe..."

His lust-hazed gaze clears up for a second as his mouth shuts, almost as if realizing something.

"So that's what that potion does. Hahaha. I should've known."

The way his eyes return from the random destination they landed on somewhere in the distance, to you, with that naughty glint in them sparkling stronger than before, you feel your core clench. Is that a normal reaction, again?

"What potion?"

"For my fertilizer. If my understanding is correct, the flowers I gave you have produced pollen that is... a bit more special. Bluntly said, it could have the effects of an aphrodisiac."

Aphrodisiac. Now that's... almost hard to believe, but also very believable at the same time, given the circumstances. You turn on your back again, not bothering to close your thighs. One look down between Clavis' legs confirms your suspicions. His brain is working surprisingly sharply for someone with a hard-on and under the influence of that pollen, you should give him credits for it.

"What do we do now? I feel like I'd go crazy if I don't..."

"Go on, finish that sentence for me."

You watch as Clavis' head dips down between your legs again after he'd risen up prior. His nose nudges lightly against your weeping core, and you shudder when he takes in a breath. Is he getting drunk on the scent of you, or that of those devious flowers?

"I'd go...ah... crazy if you...d-don't... make love to me soon!"

"Gladly."

Diving in tongue-first between the glistening folds of your core is not the type of making love you're craving for, but Clavis is fully capable of working you with his tongue until you can't really tell the difference. His hot muscle penetrates where you want him most and easily makes you sing in wanton moans, each time getting you closer and closer to uttering his full name. The effects of the pollen make the pleasure overflow, sending you straight to the brink of culmination before Clavis can even get his full of bullying the bundle of nerves at the apex of your folds. Or maybe he did? In the haze of it, time warps strangely, making you wonder how much time in total you and Clavis are going to spend tangled in each other's limbs until the last drop of desire is wrung out of your hot flesh.

"You're giving me so much of your delectable nectar... if I didn't crave so greatly to be connected with you, I could eat you out all day, my dear."

His words are gilded with grace, yet the way he palms over his straining cock is nothing short of illicit, giving him away. He did admit to craving it badly, though, but you want to see more - so with hands crawling to the underside of your raised hips, you present yourself better for his eyes.

"I want you inside, Clavis..."

You swear you saw his cock jump inside its confines - not even caring that your eyes wandered to bad places and you ended up missing the change in his gaze. The parted fringe hides it sexily as he looks down, busying himself with removing the rest of his clothing. You simply lie down and wait for him with open arms.

His skin feels so good on top of yours. You want to feel it all on you, intertwining fingers with him before he can even guide his cock in - luckily he doesn't need the aid, your impatiently trashing hips at fault for the accidental perfect aligning.

The first thrust is simply euphoric.

Clavis' cock feels fuller than ever, scraping deliciously against your hypersensitive walls and sparkling unseen pleasure across every millimeter of your insides with how well it fills you. You're used to him taking his sweet time building the pace, teasing you, watching you writhing, feeling oh so generous when he finally speeds up and sees you throw your head back. Now that he's no good, lust dulling the satisfaction of those little games and instead having him crave the pure, unrestrained pleasure of friction, he simply gives it to you. His trusts are erratic, deep, he listens to your growing moans and makes sure to hit the spots that made you sing louder.

His moans are oh so beautiful. His voice is beautiful on itself, but while colored in desire, it's even more beautiful - to you, that's it. It surprises you when he lets out a particularly heavy groan, and his following ministrations confirm your suspicions.

Clavis pulls out in attempt to cut off the unbridledly flowing pleasure that has unseeably worked him to orgasm, but he can't help it. Ropes of semen land on your lower belly, sticky and hot, and you pant hard as you watch the scene. He gives his cock a firm squeeze from base to tip, giving you everything he has... and is it a lot. With wide, lust-blown pupils, you suck on your breath as you see just how much cum he disposed on your burning skin, the emptiness of your core calling as you helplessly clench around nothing.

Clavis rubs the tip of his cock on the mess he made, a mere tease while he is catching his breath. Your eyes meet, and he is chuckling a little. The clash of your lips is inevitable and makes your head spin, and once again proves to be an aphrodisiac more potent than anything else that could attempt to hack the chemicals in your brain.

You feel something hard and slick entering you, your insides sucking it in with no resistance before you can realize that Clavis is, in fact, diamond-hard again, and attempting to fuck his cum inside you - and probably on his way to disposing more of it in your depths, after another heated round.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso, you chuckle and place a kiss on the side of his nape, wishing to fall deeper in this endless pit of lust, together with him.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @aceuuuuu @tele86 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri clavis #ikemen prince clavis #clavis lelouch #ikemen clavis #ikemen prince fanfic #ikemen prince smut #ikemen series #ikeseries #cybird #otome #late spring tryst ccc

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abandoned-anemoia · 6 months

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Embrasing the Living

☯ Pairing: ghost!Lee Felix x gn!reader ☯ Genre: angst?, fluff ☯ Word count: 1.6k ☯ Summary: You move in to an old, abandoned house rumored to be haunted, and encounter a ghost named Felix who is trapped by a curse. As you grow closer, you attempt to break the curse. Together, you defy supernatural boundaries, discovering a love that transcends life and death. ☯ Warnings: curses/witchcraft?, ghost shit ☯ A/N: This is really bad, I'm sorry lol. It's SUPER cliche and kinda feels like Beauty and the Beast in a way... But! Since it is almost Halloween and I didn't really have time to do Kinktober, I figured I would write a few spooky specials. Please Let me know if I need to add any warnings! ☯Disclaimer: None of my work represents any of the idols included in any way. This is merely fictional and all based on my opinion as a joke! I have nothing against any of these idols and love them all dearly.

Please do not copy, translate, or post as your own!

In a quiet corner of the world, nestled amidst a lush forest, there stood an old, weather-beaten house. Its timeworn facade exuded an eerie charm that only that of an abandoned place could possess. It had been uninhabited for years, with rumors of supernatural occurrences whispered amongst the people, talk of a young man that had disappeared a few years prior. But one fateful day, you decided to make it your home. The house, with its creaky wooden floors and ancient charm, seemed like the perfect place for you to begin a new chapter in your life.

You had always been drawn to unconventional choices, and this house, with its dark and complex history, intrigued you. It was the ideal refuge for a writer, seeking solitude and inspiration from the cryptic household. You packed your bags, said your goodbyes to your old place, and moved into the mysterious abode, ready to confront whatever secrets it held.

The first few weeks in your new home were uneventful, save for the occasional creaking floorboard, blown fuse, or rattling window. You had always been a pragmatic person, dismissing the unsettling sounds as the byproduct of an old house settling into its solitude. You even joked about possibly having a new houseguest.

"Maybe I should start charging rent for my ghostly roommate," You'd chuckle as a stray object fell to the floor for no apparent reason.

Little did you know that your casual jests were not as far from the truth as you had believed.

One crisp autumn night, as you sit at your desk, the air suddenly grew icy. Goosebumps erupt on your arms, and you feel an inexplicable sense of unease. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a small porcelain vase teetering on the edge of the shelf. Before you can react, it topples over and crashes onto the hardwood floor, shattering into a million little pieces.

Startled, you jump up, your heart racing, and stare at the wreckage. You know there was no logical explanation for this incident.

"Okay, that's enough!" you exclaim, half-irritated and half-frightened, "If you want attention, you've got it."

Silence follows, but you can't shake the feeling that you are not alone in your house. You turn off the lights, crawl under your blankets, and try to convince yourself that it was just a coincidence.

The following days brought more unexplained occurrences. Books flew off the shelves, curtains swayed without a breeze, and eerie whispers filled the air. Your initial annoyance evolved into a fascination, and you couldn't help but feel a strange connection with whatever entity shared your home. Nothing ever harmed you, nor was it ever even close to causing you more anguish than just the trouble of cleaning up the messes.

One night, as you sit in the dimly lit living room, reading a book by the fireplace, you whisper into the shadows, "Alright, if you're here, give me a sign."

The room seems to hold its breath for a moment before a soft knocking echoed through the walls. You chuckle, your fear subsiding, "That's more like it. You really know how to make an entrance."

But your light-hearted banter was about to take a serious turn.

As the weeks passed, the disturbances grew bolder. You would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to find your furniture rearranged or your possessions scattered across the room. You couldn't ignore the fact that these events were beyond the realm of natural explanation.

One evening, as you sit in your kitchen, the power in your home goes out. A long sigh leaves your lips as you light the few candles you had gathered.

Once settled into a dining room chair, a sudden gust of wind extinguishes all of the candles. You feel a presence behind you, a gentle, almost comforting energy. Slowly, you turn around and gasp.

There, standing before you, is a faint, ethereal figure of a young man, freckles littered across his cheeks. He looks about your age, with shaggy brown hair and curious, chocolate eyes. You can't help but feel a strange sense of nostalgia, as if you've known him your entire life.

"Hi," You whisper, your voice quivering.

The ghostly boy smiled warmly and nodded.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. "You're real? You're not just some figment of my imagination?"

The boy gestured to himself and the room, as if to say, "Do I look imaginary to you?"

You let out a nervous laugh, realizing you were talking to a ghost, "Okay, this is not what I expected when I moved in here. What’s your name?"

He nods again, seeming to understand your confusion. He points to his throat, then shakes his head sadly.

"You can't talk?" you asked, your heart aching for the lost voice.

The freckled boy raises a hand, indicating to the pen and paper on the kitchen table that you had been using to write your drafts prior to the power going out. You grab them and hand them to him. With shaky hands, he writes, "Felix.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Felix. I’m y/n. Why can’t you speak?” You look at him expectantly with a sad smile.

He begins writing again, “I’m cursed."

Your eyes widened as you read the words, "Cursed? How?"

Felix wrote out his story in painstaking detail. He explained how he had once lived in this very house, how he had been a curious and adventurous young man. But one day, he had stumbled upon an old, dusty book hidden in the attic—the Book of Shadows. Ignoring the warnings scrawled on its pages, he had tried to perform a forbidden spell. A stupid thing, he admitted.

The spell had gone awry, and Felix had been consumed by a powerful curse. He was trapped in a state between life and death, unable to speak, touch, or feel the warmth of the living until the curse was broken. His only solace in his five years of torture was the occasional glimpse into the world of the living, and that's when you moved in.

Tears well up in your eyes as you read Felix's tragic tale. You could see the regret and sorrow in his eyes, even if he couldn't express them in words. You reach out your hand to touch his, to instinctively comfort him in some way, but your fingers pass right through his form.

Determination ignited in your heart, "We'll find a way to break the curse, Felix. I promise."

Felix's eyes sparkled with gratitude and hope.

From that day on, you and Felix became inseparable, despite the physical barrier that separated you. You spent hours researching spells, curses, and anything related to the occult. For weeks, the two of you combed through dusty old books, scoured the internet, and consulted experts in the paranormal.

You found yourself looking forward to your conversations with Felix, cherishing the moments you spent together. You couldn't help but admire his kindness, humor, and the way he had a knack for making you smile even in the darkest of times.

As you delved deeper into your quest, your fascination with Felix grew into something more profound. You admired his resilience and kindness, despite his tragic fate, brought on by being too curious. You found yourself talking to him about your hopes, dreams, and fears, as if he were your most trusted confidant.

And Felix, in turn, was captivated by your spirit and determination. He had watched you from the shadows for so long, afraid to scare you with his presence, but now, he could truly know you. He longed to touch you, to hold your hand, to feel the warmth of your embrace. But the curse remained an insurmountable barrier.

One evening, as you pore over a particularly ancient text, your voice quivers with frustration, "I can't figure it out, Felix. How do we break this curse? There must be something we're missing."

Your love for each other, deep and true, seemed doomed by the curse that bound Felix to the house. But as you sit together in the dimly lit living room, upset by the lack of answers, your hands brush against one other, sending a spark of energy through both of you. Astonished, you reach out again, and this time, your fingers meet warm skin.

In that moment, the power of your love shattered the curse. It wasn't just about finding a solution to the problem; it was about the love that had grown between you.

Felix's form solidified, his translucent figure taking on a warm, human touch. Tears of joy streamed down your face as you hugged him tightly.

Your bond had deepened into something beautiful and profound. It was a love that transcended the physical, a connection that went beyond the tangible. Your love remained unwavering, a beacon of hope in the darkest of times as you attempted to figure out just how you could free Felix, but it seems it was this love that held the key to breaking the curse that had imprisoned Felix for so long.

In that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, bound by a love that had conquered the darkest of curses. He pulls you close as you hold onto each other, savoring the feeling of your hearts beating as one. And as you embraced, you knew that you had found something truly magical—a love that defied all odds, a love that would last for all eternity.

You were no longer separated by the veil of the supernatural world. Now, you were free to be together, in love, in your charming old house that was no longer haunted. Your love had triumphed over the curse that had held Felix captive for so long, proving that love truly knows no boundaries, not even those between the living and the "dead".

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littlespacereader · 1 month

Text

Sorry for the long awaited 10th Doctor fic. I won’t lie, I was really trying to figure out what I was going to write. That’s when I came across this gif! My favorite duo! The Doctor Donna duo! They always had such a fun dynamic in the show that I said to myself “what if they were the reader’s Caregivers?” So please enjoy this cute fic!!

Who Broke The Vase?🏺💙

Caregiver! 10th Doctor, Caregiver! Donna Nobel, & GN Little! Reader (SFW!)

Tags - hurt/comfort, DoctorDonna duo are the cutest, stuffie, broken glass, mention of violence at the end (just playful banter no worries), hugs and forehead kisses

Nicknames - Mama for Donna, Papa for The Doctor, space boy for The Doctor, munchkin, little one, little rose, darling

“Are you sure you’re okay here by yourself for a couple of minutes?” Donna grabbed her purse off the counter top and looked over at me.

“Of course! You’re just going around the corner to the Tardis. I’ll be fine. I’ve got Sir Teddy the second to watch me.” I gestured to the stuffie on my left.

I was sitting in the living room, legos spread throughout the floor. I was making the coolest building for Mama when we both heard the sound of the Tardis in the distance.

The Tardis meant Papa was home! He always brings me the coolest gifts or even better he takes Mama and I on the coolest adventures! I wonder what it’s going to be this time.

“Alright, I’ll be back soon with Papa. Don’t you or Sir Teddy the second do anything stupid while I’m gone.” She joked with a wink.

I smirked and rolled my eyes, “We won’t.”

She walked over and placed a kiss to the top of my head and one to Teddy’s head before she left out the front door. “Love you munchkin. Be back soon.”

“Love you too Mama!” I called back to her before the door closed.

The Doctor Donna duo were the farthest thing from a couple. They are what you like to call platonic soulmates. On one of their adventures they met me and were extremely kind and compassionate about my regression.

They surprised me one day and said they would be my Caregivers, not as a couple but as two separate Caregivers both wanting to love and protect me. What more could a Little ask for?

I played with my legos for a little bit but I couldn’t really focus on them. I was so curious to what Papa had been up to since he left. Maybe he found a new alien race? Maybe he solved world peace on another planet? Maybe he saved another spaceship?

Wait! I looked into the kitchen at the fridge. At the very top of the fridge is the picture of the Tardis I drew with a magnet on top to hold it in place. And this isn’t just any drawing! I drew this one especially for Papa!

It’s Mama, Papa and I on the beach with the Tardis resting under an umbrella. Papa would find the Tardis to be so silly! He would absolutely love it!

So onto my feet and off to the kitchen with Teddy I ran! Except when I got to the fridge I had a problem…the drawing was at the vvvveeeerrrrrryyyy top of the fridge and was hard to grab, even on my tippy toes.

This was a problem, but not one I couldn’t figure out. First step was getting something to stand on. Mama has a step stool somewhere…Ah ha! In the pantry!

I grabbed the step stool and brought it to the front of the fridge. But even at the top step it wasn’t enough! Now we had to result to drastic measures. Holding onto the fridge handle with one hand and Teddy with the other, I swung him in the hopes that he would hit the picture and knock it loose.

I hit and hit and hit and with one final swing, the magnet fell and my picture slowly started to drift down. But I also hit something else…

Teddy’s leg managed to snag the handle of the white and blue vase at the top of the fridge. Teddy’s leg snagged it and threw it off the top, shattering it on the floor below.

I stood there on the step stool in total shock. My heart started to race as a million thoughts ran through my mind. One thought stuck and stayed, I am in so much trouble.

I’ve never been in big trouble with my Caregivers before. What were they going to be like? Angry, loud, frustrated?!

Tears started to fall down my face as my beautiful picture landed near the mess. What was I going to do? Was there enough time to clean this mess? Maybe Mama wouldn’t notice the vase missing.

But soon I heard Papa and Mama’s voice in the distance. I couldn’t think, I was just starting to panic. I just started to run, leaving the mess and my picture behind. I grabbed Teddy and ran upstairs to the safety of my room.

~~~

The Doctor swung the door open with his usual grin on his face, “Y/N! I’m home!!”

But instead of seeing his little one run as fast as they could over to him, he was met with a silence. Strange…Y/N is usually happy to see him.

Donna scooted past him and walked into the house worried, “Y/N? Y/N?!” Where had their Little gone?

Donna searched the living room finding the legos left abandoned. The Doctor searched around for any sign of the Little. He paused in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Donna? Did you have something white and blue made out of glass?” He asked over his shoulder.

“What?” Donna joined the Doctor in the kitchen as they looked over the mess.

Pieces of glass surrounded the fridge and the step stool. On top of the mess laid the picture Y/N had drawn for the Doctor.

The Doctor picked it up and smiled at the picture. He always loved all of Y/N creations. This one was especially funny to him.

“Doesn’t take Sherlock Homes to figure out what happened here.” The Doctor joked.

“You think they’re okay? Maybe they got hurt?” Donna looked around the room frantically.

“No, no, I think they’re okay. If they were hurt they would’ve ran to us right away. I think the accident just scared them.” The Doctor said looking over the pieces. “What was this anyway?”

“It was a vase my mum bought me. I never really liked it but she insisted I have it to lighten up the room. But she doesn’t know that glass and Littles usually don’t mix.” She laughed.

“You’re right about that.” The Doctor stood up and looked to the stairs. “We better see if they’re alright.”

“Hold on just a minute their space boy,” she grabbed his arm. “We need to be on the same page with this. No good Papa, mean mama routine anymore.”

“Well, it was just a vase. One you didn’t even like that much.” He pointed out.

Donna rolled her eyes, “The vase doesn’t matter. What matters is they could’ve gotten serious hurt while we were gone. That’s what we need to focus on with them. Just, follow my lead with this and don’t be mister good guy.”

“I’m not always Mister good guy! I’m stern.”

Donna just riled her head and gave him a look, a look that said ‘you’re the biggest softie there is’. He sighed, “Alright.” He pocketed the drawing before following Donna upstairs.

~~~

And with that the two made their way up stairs. They immediately went into Y/N’s room, their door was wide open but they were missing from the room.

The Doctor Donna duo was about to leave when they heard soft sniffling and sobs from the closet. The Doctor’s hearts and Donna’s singular heart broke hearing the upset Little.

The Doctor carefully opened the closet door and couched down. There in the back of the closet clutching their stuffie sat Y/N, tears running down their face as they cowered away. “I’m sorry! I’m sowry!!”

“Awwww, Y/N it’s alright. Papa and Mama are not angry. Come here, we just want to make sure you’re not hurt.” The Doctor said holding a hand out for them.

But they didn’t move from their spot. They just shook their head, “ ‘m fine.” They said with a broken voice.

Donna took a seat on the ground next to the Doctor, “I know you’re fine darling but Mama is so worried about her little rose. Could you come out so I can make sure my rose isn’t missing a petal?”

The Doctor smiled at Donna, knowing she would only save such a nickname for someone as special as Y/N. Her soft and gentle voice started to relax Y/N a bit. They crawled out of their spot and over to Donna who held her arms out to them. Y/N was then wrapped into Donna arms, getting a big comforting hug from her.

“There we are. You’re okay my little rose. You’re okay.” She whispered as she rocked them back and forth in her arms. Y/N turned and buried their face against her shoulder.

Now, let’s have a look at your arms,” The Doctor leaned over and lifted their arm high up then back down. “Alright this one looks to be okay!”

“And now let’s look at the right arm,” the Doctor did the same thing, overly lifting their arm then bringing it back down. “Everything look alright with me Captain.” The Doctor winked to Donna.

“Thank you sergeant.” She winked back. “We can’t have our best soldier getting hurt now can we?” That brought a small smile to Y/N face.

“Now let’s check on Sir Teddy the Second. Would you mind lifting his left paw?” The Doctor asked.

Y/N had stopped crying, watching the two with amusement as they first examined them then Teddy, making sure they were both okay.

Once the two Caregivers had settled their Little down, it was time to ask the big questions. “What happened to you and Teddy? Why did you leave the living room?”

Y/N expression dropped hearing that they could maybe be in trouble again. “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to!” They began panicking again.

The Doctor took their hand in his right away. “No, no, no, we’re not angry! We were so worried about you. We thought the worst that maybe you got hurt or cut by the glass.”

Donna wrapped an arm around them, “Darling you know I didn’t like the vase Nan got us. That’s not an excuse to break it, but the vase is not what matters. You’re what matters to me.”

The Doctor decided to help, “Was it to get this beautiful picture for me?” He held the picture in his arms.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah I wanted to give Papa the picture with the Tardis.” They leaned over and pointed on the Tardis under the umbrella. “See, we’re all at the beach and the tardis is resting under the umbrella.”

The Doctor chuckled, “That is hilarious. I could just picture the Tardis resting under an umbrella. It’s a beautiful picture!” He smiled at the picture. But his eyes soon caught Donna’s serious ones.

He cleared his throat and continued on, “But while it is a beautiful photo. It’s not something that should put you in danger.”

“It was at the top of the fridge! I wanted to get it before you came home. So I used Teddy to get it and….the vase fell.” They tried to explain.

“Yessss but you could’ve asked me to grab it before he saw it in the kitchen.” Donna reminded.

“Oh…yeah…” Wow, that all made sense.

The two Caregivers couldn’t help but laugh. “Listen, I think you learned your lesson. Just never do something dangerous like that again please. If you need help with something always ask Papa or me, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll never do it again.” They shook their head.

Donna and the Doctor smiled then placed a loving kiss to the top of their head. “Then all is forgive darling.”

The three stood up but immediately Y/N put their arms up and made grabby hands at the Doctor. His face lit up as he picked the Little up and into his arms.

“There we are. Now, let’s see the present Papa brought home for you!”

“Present?!” Y/N’s eyes lit up.

“Yes! Straight from 45 BC Rome! You know I met Julius Caesar when I was there?”

“Reallly?! Wooooowwwww! Did you warn him he was about to get stabbed in the back?”

“What?! No! I couldn’t tell him that! It could change history as we know it!”

“That isn’t being a nice friend though.”

“Stabbing him in the back is not being a nice friend, I’m just protecting history.”

Donna couldn’t help but smirk at the two antics. Whether the Doctor liked it or not he was truly a softie when it came to his Little Y/N. But she wasn’t the stern one her mother expected her to be either.

Just like the vase she was breaking the model of what it meant to be a good parent or in this case a good Caregiver.

“I agree darling I don’t think the Doctor was being a good friend.”

The Doctor turned around shocked, “You two?! I can’t win can I?”

Y/N and Donna smiled, “Nope!” They both said together.

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claudemblems · 2 years

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Our Love Was an Illusion | Scaramouche

Summary: You once thought Scaramouche had loved you, but now he's turned on you just like he has everyone else. Does he really mean what he says, or is he protecting you from something far worse than himself?

Notes: Me? Writing for Scara? Writing angst? It's more likely than you thought :) Anyways someone suggested Scara fluff and I will get to that but...I was inspired to write something tragic LOL

-And as an extra note, I made the reader refer to the stars as lies because of what Scaramouche said way back in one of the very first events Genshin ever had. Perhaps Teyvat's stars are fake 0-0

They said there was never a bigger or more devastating betrayal in the history of Celestia than Khaenri'ah's. Both gods and humans fell on the blades of a civilization so eager to rebel, their scattered bloodstains and lifeless bodies now just fragments of history slowly eroding with time. There never had been and never would be an event comparable to it. Nothing else could possibly rival the mourning or desolation felt in every heart across every land.

At least, that's what everyone told you, but their hearts hadn't been cut through and ripped out by a ruthless Harbinger named Scaramouche.

“Is that all I mean to you? I’m just another thing for you to use and then discard when I can’t serve you anymore?!”

“Well, look at you being so smart! Does that mean you knew of my intentions the whole time and still gave me what I wanted? Does that make you a good person...or a dog?”

“Shut up!”

You pushed against Scaramouche’s chest, the Harbinger colliding with the end table behind him. The vase sitting atop it tumbled and shattered onto the floor.

You kept your lips pressed firmly into a line as you stared down your now ex-lover, begging yourself not to cry—not in front of him. But the anger thrumming inside your veins only grew as a sinister grin formed on his face, somehow sickly sweet and terribly bitter at the same time.

“Oh, now look at what you’ve done. That poor vase didn’t do anything to you and yet it ended up broken. But that’s not unexpected coming from you! Everything you touch, every poor soul you meet, is destroyed by your own hands. You’re just so broken inside that you have to bring everyone down with you!”

“Shut up!”

“You know I’m right, and that’s the sad part. You can’t possibly deny it. When you really stop and think about it—”

“Don’t even say it—!”

“You’re just like me.”

“GET OUT!”

Scaramouche could only laugh, craning his neck backwards as he practically howled at you, at your sorry state, at the hot tears running down your cheeks all thanks to him. Though you knew from the beginning that he was trouble, you never imagined the end of your love would turn out to be so cruel.

“It was nice living inside your head rent free for a while, but I’ve gotta go. I’ve got bigger and better ambitions to chase.”

Without another word, without a single utterance of goodbye, he left, and he never looked back.

Clutching your chest, you stared at the fiery orange sky, anger and sadness searing your heart like flames slowly burning it to ash. By this point, the fire had so fiercely consumed you that your nerves could no longer process the pain. Now you were simply void of anything, a black hole curling in on itself. But it didn’t surprise you. You knew that anyone who dared to walk the same path as Scaramouche never left unscathed. You knew that and yet you let this sorry excuse of a man destroy you. Perhaps it wasn’t all his fault. He’d warned you, after all, of what could come of associating yourself with him.

But a tiny part of you believed that whatever you had with him was actually real, and that’s what made you the real fool in the end.

“Did I really mean nothing to you? Are you hiding behind a mask, or was I blind to your true intentions the entire time?”

You spoke your words out loud to the wind, but Scaramouche was already far out of your sight. He was truly gone, and he was never coming back.

So you steeled yourself, fighting against the tears brimming in your eyes. Putting one step forward, little by little, you marched on with the setting sun. As it dipped below the horizon and the sky filled with stars, you let your eyes gaze upon the heavenly hosts and thought:

Our love was just like these stars: a mirage of deception and lies, fake and concealing the truth that hides.

Your love for me was nothing but an illusion.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #angst for you <3 lol

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krishakamal · 9 months

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𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞, 𝐖𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞

— Ram x Female Reader

SYNOPSIS : In the grief of losing a position, Ram losses the most important person in his life .

WARNINGS : Angry!Ram, break up, angst, 0.9k words.

KAMAL'S NOTE : Hey guys, another fic here. This one was requested by @meenammaisslay in my other account. Hope you like it baby (I'm so bad with angst 🥲)

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 // 𝐑𝐑𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The clay vase collided with the wall, shattering into millions of pieces. Ram grabbed his forehead in his hand and fell down on his knees on the ground. This was not supposed to happen. No no no. Where did things go wrong?

He worked his damn life off to become a special officer. He stayed separated from his people, worked for those British basterds, obayed them like a dog just to become the special officer and help his people but everything went down in vain. Instead of him, someone else was appointed to the position.

Ram felt lost. What will he do now? He had no idea. Unaware of his misery, you were hopping towards his house, humming and singing. A permanent smile stuck on your face. Today he was going to be appointed as the special officer and you were sure of it.

As his house came into the view, you fastened your speed. Walking up to the front door, knocked on the wooden door and frowned when you got no answer.

"Ram? Are you in there?" You yelled but still got no answer from inside.

Strange. He was supposed to be home by now. Was he late for work or something? Maybe you should come later. But just as you turned to leave, a sound of something shattering came from inside, followed by a scream you knew so well. Before you knew it, you were pushing the door and entering without permission.

The scene in front of you filled you with dread. Nothing was in its place. Things lying here and there, broken pieces of vase spreaded all over and in the middle of all this Ram sitting on the floor, his head bent down, defeated.

You could not control the gasp that left you, "Ram, what on earth happened here?"

You exclaimed as you made your way through the mess. You crouch down in front of him and shake his shoulders, "Ram, are you okay?"

Ram remained silent but he jerked your hands off of him. You awkwardly drew your hands back. Even though you were hurt, you didn't show it. Now was not the time. Ram silently got up and started walking up the stairs.

You followed behind him, "Ram, what happened? Come on, if you tell me then maybe I can help. Crying and hurting yourself isn't going to fix anything. Ram, just tell m—"

"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP!" Ram grabbed your both arms and brought you in front of him.

You flinched at his loud voice. He had never shouted at you before. You knew Ram would never hurt you but his bloody red eyes were scaring you. You breathed heavily and tried not to panic.

"R-Ram, c…c-calm down please." You plead. Eyes prickling with tears, threatening to fall down.

"CALM DOWN? YOU WANT CALM DOWN? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT HAS HAPPENED? ALL MY HARD WORK WENT TO VAIN. I COULDN'T BECOME THE SPECIAL OFFICER!!"

Ram shook you aggressively before releasing you harshly, "Oh! How will you even understand that?"

You cupped his face, "Ram it's okay. W-We can find some other way o-or opportunity."

Ram pushed you back again, "Don't act like you understand me." Ram fisted his hair, "I-I don't understand. I did everything they told me to but they still didn't choose me. Do they, do they know about my plan? Did someone tell them? B-but who would—"

Ram suddenly stopped and looked at you, observing you. Your heart sped up. You didn't like the look in his eyes, full of doubt, anger and betrayal.

Ram started marching towards you and backed away with each step, "Did you tell them? Huh? Did you tell them about my plan? You did right? What did they offer you? Money, is it?"

Ram grabbed your arms again, making you yelp in pain, "Y-You are…. hurting m-me."

"And you know how much you have hurt me? Tell me, did they offer you money? Or was it something else? Did you fall in love with a Britisher behind my back and slep—"

"I didn't do anything." You couldn't help but raise your voice, "Leave me. Fucking leave me, Ram."

You forced your way out of his clutch. Your hurt was hurting. You knew how important it was for Ram but he had no right to talk like that about you.

"You probably did something stupid and now you are facing the consequences."

"STOP SPOUTING NONSENSE!"

Ram raised his hand to hit you. You instantly closed your eyes, waiting for the pain but nothing came. You opened your eyes hesitantly and saw the arm still in the air. Now you couldn't stop the tears streaming down your cheeks.

Your lips trembled as you choked out the words, "R-Ram, you really were g-gonna—"

Words got stuck in your throat. Before you were sure that it didn't matter how angry he was, he would never hurt you. But now, you could not even recognise the man standing in front of you.

Your Ram would hit you, or shout at you, neither would he ever question your character.

His eyes widened when finally realised what he was going to do, "Y-Y/N, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry baby. I d-didn't mean to."

Ram tried to hug but you backed away, scared. Something broke in his heart.

"I'm really sorry baby." Ram whispered.

"Don't." You gulped down the sobbs that wanted to come out, "Don't call me that. I'll call Babai. Sober up and fix yourself. Maybe then we'll talk."

Maybe, not then. Ram knew he had messed up big time. He didn't try to stop you as you hurried out of the house, finally letting those sobbs out. You walk out of the house and probably his life without any intention of ever coming back.

The couple rings dug in your palm as you clutched them tightly in your fist. Maybe we just weren't meant to be.

All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.

#rrr movie #ram x female reader #rrr ram x reader #rrr ram #ram x reader #kamal writes

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homicidal-slvt · 11 months

Text

"Like I'm The One"

MDNI

Carlos Oliveira x GN!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Slight Hurt + Comfort

Your fingers tapped anxiously against the kitchen table, you've been best friends with Carlos since you were children. You confided everything into each other.

Being without communication with him for so long made your heart sink, mind plagued with worries especially since there's been a few close calls with his line of work before.

Losing your best friend is not on the list of things you think you could handle going through, yet it's a very real possibility that sits right around the corner always. A suffocating weight that you learned to cope with via distractions.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"You better be."

That goofy grin spread wide on his face like usual, he waved to you before heading off. Your fingers clutching onto your mug tightly.

You better come back to me. I can't imagine a world without you- you big idiot.

His thick curly hair soaked from the rain as well as the rest of him, effectively looking like a giant drenched sheep dog dripping all over your floor.

"Carlos-"

"Told you I'd be back."

You aren't sure when you started crying, not entirely aware of your own body's reactions at this point, all the stress from everything surfacing.

You missed him.

You needed him.

Work had been horribly stressful on top of everything, coffee stains on your shirt from a pissy customer, trembles wracking your body.

You only came back out of your head when you felt two strong arms wrapped around you, tugging you into a tight embrace. He smells of rain and musk, getting you damp in the process not that you cared.

"Hey, hey... Look at me. I'm right here. It's going to be okay..."

His words were soft as he spoke, a reassuring tone to try and ease your aching heart, gripping you close like a precious vase that could be shattered in one slip.

He pulled back and looked down at you, letting your gaze fall on his worried expression. However you also took note of just how messy his hair is at the moment, a soft chuckle emerging which in return made him smile.

"There's my sunshine."

He remarked as he took in your happier features, your smile could always light up his day and he'd do anything to see it- even if it was because you were giggling at how disheveled he looked.

"Let me go get you a towel."

"Good idea."

••

You sat beside him on the couch watching TV, settling into the comfortable feeling of it like usual. Those deep brown eyes of his were fixated on the show... You however kept finding yourself glancing at him instead.

Were you harboring feelings for him that were more than just friendship? Of course not... Don't be ridiculous...

He finally shifted and looked right back at you, catching you during your deep-in-thought staring.

"Something on your mind?"

You were like a deer caught in headlights- how do you possibly explain this???

Though the way he looked at you wasn't how friends looked at each other either, come to think of it he's always looked at you a bit differently- you just never fully noticed.

"I just..."

He moved in closer to you with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Just what?"

"Stop looking at me like that."

You scooted back away from his form slightly and glanced away, trying to force the butterflies in your stomach to cut it the fuck out.

"You were the one who was staring first."

He chuckled slightly and you couldn't help but huff at the comment, it almost felt like back when you two were young teens again. Attempting to navigate that desperately fuzzy feeling.

"Just- don't look at me like that."

"Why not?"

"Because..."

His hand finds its way to yours and encompasses it in his grip, his touch warm and comforting as always which only worsens the tide of feelings.

"Because?"

"Because it makes me feel like... Like I'm the one."

He moved in closer and placed his finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze and allowing him to take in all that is you.

All the things he's loved about you for so long.

"What if you are the one?"

There's no hint of doubt in his expression or voice, making it clear it's always been you that he wants. Perhaps he's held back all this time out of fear of screwing up the friendship.

Maybe that's the chains that have held both of you back.

Soulmates or not you'll be damned if you miss this chance, leaning in and at last getting to taste him on your lips.

Tender and sweet like honey, eyes shut and at peace with the world. All you could feel was him and the steady drum of your heart, one of his hands settled on the back of your head while the other was on your mid-back.

Don't you dare ever leave me in a carlos-less world.

{Guys I'm so in love with him you have no idea- this is my first attempt at writing for him though. Lol}

{More Content}

#carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira fic #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira fluff #re3 remake #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil fluff #carlos oliveira x you #re3 fic #re3 #resident evil 3 #vee's resident evil works

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ilovewriting06 · 1 year

Text

Till the End of Time

A/N: This was a request for a protective Steve x Y/N, so I put my mind to work and I came up with a few ideas and this is the first one. Hope you like it @harmfuldancer2000

I was dancing to Meghan Trainor wearing one of Steve’s huge navy shirts and a pair of sleep shorts in the kitchen in Steve and I’s house while making some very complicated pasta, instant ramen noodles. As I popped my bowl into the microwave I shook my hips until I heard something fall and break in the living room. I stopped mid swing and stood up straight listening closely to my surroundings. When I heard something else move my heart starting beating erratically and I tiptoed across the kitchen to grab the knife Steve had used to cut up the vegetables this morning. I peaked around the corner to see two guys dressed in black holding guns and sweeping the area. I shuffled backwards so fast I almost tripped and then I realized, I was cornered. I had no way out and they were coming towards me, fast. My hands shook as I grabbed my phone and called Steve. As the phone was ringing the microwave beeped and I heard a guy whisper yell, “She’s in the kitchen, remember, boss wants her alive, she’s his only weakness.” I dropped the phone after taking a picture of the men when they entered the kitchen before begging, “Please, don’t do this.” The one guy grabbed me and I drove the knife into his side before kicking him in the shin and pulling the knife out. I backed up until my back hit the counter and the guy I stabbed came at me angrily. I screamed before stabbing him in the chest and watching as he fell to the ground.

Before I had time to defend myself the other guy grabbed me and pulled me out the door as I kicked him and bit him to try and get him to let me go. When I bit him he jerked his hand away before slapping me and yelling, “You bitch!”

I got thrown into the back of a blue SUV before promptly being grabbed by a third guy who injected me with something and then I was knocked out cold.

Steve’s POV

Danny and I were on our way to a crime scene when my phone rang, I looked down to see who it was. When I saw it was Y/N I smiled and reached to answer it when Danny slapped my hand before grabbing my phone and silencing it. “What the hell Danny!?”

“You are not answering the phone while you are driving.”

“But it was Y/N.”

Danny rolled his eyes before saying, “Oh my god, you two are attached at the hip it can’t be healthy!”

“But what if she needed something?”

“Oh please Steve, she probably just called to remind you to eat lunch and drink water because god forbid you be hungry.”

“Alright alright, but if something is wrong I’m holding you responsible.”

“She’s fine Steve.”

I nodded my head before pulling into the crime scene.

*Time skip*

I walked out of my office remembering Danny had my phone, “Hey Danno, can I have my phone back?”

He reached into his pocket while saying, “Oh yeah, here ya go, also, princess left a voicemail.”

I took it with a smile and rolled my eyes at Danny’s jab about Y/N’s contact name before saying, “Yeah yeah yeah, I’m whipped go ahead say it.”

He chuckled as I walked away before listening to my voicemail. I furrowed my eyebrows when it started with silence but my blood ran cold when I heard Y/N scream before yelling at someone to let her go before the voicemail cut out. I grabbed my keys and ran out the door while Danny yelled asking what was wrong.

When I pulled into the driveway I noticed the window in the living room was opened. I went up to the door before unholstering my gun ready to shoot anything that moves. As I walk through the living room I see one of Y/N’s vases shattered on the floor. When I got into the kitchen I swear my heart stopped as I saw a man laying on the floor with a knife sticking out of his chest. I looked around and noticed that the microwave was still flashing end signaling that the food was done. I took another step forward and noticed Y/N’s phone laying in the corner by the dead man.

My hands shook as I dialed Danny’s number, “Hey Steve what’s wrong, why did you run out like that?”

My voice turned cold and serious, “Danny.”

He stopped talking as I continued, “Send a crime scene unit for a homicide and kidnapping and get the team down here too.”

“Okay, but Steve, where exactly am I sending them?”

I choked on a sob threatening to escape my mouth before answering, “My house.”

Danny’s POV

When Steve said his house I felt the color drain from my face before saying a quick okay and hanging up. When I hung up the phone before quickly yelling at Chin and Kono to hurry up. While quickly explaining what was going on I ran out the door with them on my heels. I called Duke as I was running out of the building and told him to send a crime scene unit to Steve’s house.

As I was driving to Steve’s house the realization hit me that there was a very high chance that was what the phone call to Steve was for earlier. Dear god I hope not he’ll kill me and then revive me just to kill me again. As I parked in the driveway of Steve and Y/N’s house I noticed Steve truck door was open and so was the front door and in front of it was Steve pacing back and forth looking extremely distressed and pissed.

Chin and Kono pulled in a couple seconds later and followed me up to Steve. “Steve? What happened?”

When he spun around to look at me I saw the fire in his eyes get stronger, yup that’s definitely what the phone call was about. I said a quick prayer as he came towards me and I backed up a little bit putting my hands up to try and stop him knowing there was no way I could stop a highly pissed Navy SEAL.

As I stepped back I managed to get i out, “Whoa, whoa, take a minute and think about what you’re doing.”

His eyebrows raised before he answered, “You know what that phone call was about, hmm?” I shook my head even though I had a pretty good as to what it was before he continued, “Well here, let me play the voicemail for you.”

As he played the voicemail I looked at Chin and Kono as there was nothing on the voicemail but then I heard it, a blood curdling and terrified scream followed by Y/N yelling at someone to let her go and then it cuts out.

I look back at Steve and see that he’s on the verge of a breakdown so I grab his shoulder and guide him over to in front of his truck. I would be worried he would kill me but he looked so weak and defeated that I don’t think he had the power to.

I looked in his eyes before grabbing his shoulders, “Steve, I’m sorry I took your phone and I’m sorry that this is happening but please don’t blame yourself.”

“I can’t not blame myself, I keep thinking about what could have happened if I had got here sooner.”

“Steve you didn’t know and she knows that, even if you would have they would have been gone before you got here.”

“I didn’t even try Danny, I promised to love her and protect her till the end of time, and now.”

His sentence faded out before I said, “Steve we will get her back, I swear.”

Steve nodded his head but I could tell he was still scared that we would be too late.

When the crime scene unit arrived to the house Steve escorted them into the house. When we walked in the house my heart dropped when I saw the kitchen and the fact there was a man laying dead on the floor with a kitchen knife sticking out of his chest.

As the unit was sweeping the house the one guy, no older than 23, grabbed Y/N’s phone before telling the guy in charge that he was going to go through it and then Steve heard him. Steve all but ran across the room to grab the phone before saying, “I’ll go through the phone.”

The kid backed up terrified of the man in front of him. Steve waltzed over the couch where he sat down to go through Y/N’s phone. I didn’t understand why he flipped out about someone going through her phone until I got a peak at her photo album, which was full of pictures that were meant to go no further than her and Steve. I backed up to give Steve privacy before I saw him smile and mutter, “That's my girl.”

I turned around in question as he flipped the phone around to reveal a picture of the men that took her, one of which was laying dead in her kitchen.

Steve’s POV

When we got back to headquarters Kono started running facial recognition on the other guy while I went to my office and collapsed into the chair sliding a hand down my face. The door opened causing me to look up when I saw it was Danny I leaned back in my chair still mad at him for not letting me answer the phone but also understanding that he had no way of knowing what was going down at my house.

“Hey, is it safe to enter?”

I sighed before waving him in. He smiled before coming and sitting across from me before saying, “We got ID’s on the two guys.” I went to stand up but he spoke up again, “Sit down a minute,” I sat down confused yet anxious to get Y/N back as he continued, “They work for Wofat.”

I drop my head in anger before looking up and glaring at the wall behind Danny before he spoke up, “Good news is if Wofat has her he’ll be reaching out, the only reason he has her is to get to you and you can’t give him anything if you don’t know where they are.”

“Danny that is not good news, he still has her and I do not have the information he wants.”

“I know Steve but if we get a lock on their location we can get her out.”

I nod my head and say, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Y/N’s POV

When I came to I was tied to a chair in a warehouse surrounded by crates. As I was taking in my surroundings a man came around the corner before saying, “Ah, I’m so glad you could join us.”

I narrowed my eyes as I realized who this man was, Wofat. I glared at him before hissing out, “What do you want?”

He chuckled before answering, “McGarrett sure picked a sassy one.” I glared at him before he put his hands up in mock surrender before continuing, “Relax Y/N, I don’t want anything from you.”I looked at him in question before he squatted in front of me and patting my cheek as he said, “You are simply here to bring him to me.” My eyes widened as I realized he was using me to lure Steve here and kill him. I spit in his face before yelling, “Fuck you!”

He stood up and back handed me on the opposite side that his goon early had slapped me on. I groaned in pain as a metallic taste filled my mouth. I spit the blood out of my mouth as I felt the bruise spreading on my cheek. I licked my lips and winced as I realized I had a split lip.

“You really should learn some manners.”

I rolled my eyes as I watched him set up a laptop on a table in front of us. He turned to me before clicking a button and then saying, “Are you ready to say hi to your little boy toy?”

As if in cue the call connected and my boyfriend and his team popped up on screen before my boyfriend angrily asked, “What do you want with her Wofat? She has nothing to do with this.”

“No not directly but she means something to you which means she has great value to me.”

Wofat went to touch me but I turned my head and but his hand and he jerked back before yelling, “God! What is it with you and biting!?” I just glared at him before looking back at my boyfriend remembering that he taught me Morse code. I blinked my eyes in Morse code hoping he would see it while Wofat gave him a location for the meet and ended the call.

Steve’s POV

While Wofat was talking I kept looking at Y/N’s bruised face, there was something off. When Wofat cut out the call I turned to Kono and asked, “Did you record it?”

“Of course boss.”

“Play it back.”

As I rewatched the video I payed attention to Y/N and ignored everything else, “There! Rewind ten seconds and slow it down.”

As Kono slowed it down I watched Y/N blink, Morse code. Danny spoke up, “What’s with all the blinking? She get something in her eye?”

I looked at Danny unimpressed before saying, “No Daniel, it’s Morse code.”

“Well, Steven, what did she say?”

I watched it again before answering Danny, “She spelled trap and kill you. She was trying to tell me that it’s a trap and Wofat is going to try and kill me.”

Danny threw up his hands before saying, “Oh great, that’s fantastic! He’s using her to get you in his crosshairs and then boom you’re gone, Y/N’s depressed and lonely, and I get stuck with some new bloke that smokes cigarettes all day!”

Chin looked at Danny before saying, “Calm down Danny that’s not going to happen.”

I spoke up and said, “We have two hours before the meet, that gives us time to come up with a plan.”

“Oh yeah and how do you propose we do that?”

Oh Danny always the pessimist of the group. “Kono, pull up the newest satellite imagine of the address, we need to get the layout.”

*Time skip*

As I arrive at the address I look around and notice everyone in their positions. I look up as the door opens and Wofat walks out with an angry looking Y/N. “Let her go Wofat, you got what you wanted.”

He smiled a sinister smile as I tried to suppress the urge to shoot him right then and there, “Not quite.” As he says that he pulls out a gun and points it at me. I look at Y/N to see her processing the best way to handle the situation when a gunshot rang out shooting the gun out of Wofat’s hand. He looked in the direction of Kono before looking at me with anger.

“Did you really think I would come alone? You should know me better than that McGarrett.”

“Oh no you didn’t come along but you’re alone now. See while we were having our lovely discussion SWAT quietly snuck in the back and took out your guys. So, now that we’ve come this far, let her go.”

Wofat pulled out a knife and held it to Y/N’s throat while pulling her head back by her hair and using her to block Kono’s line of fire. I went to step forward but Wofat pushed the knife deeper into her throat causing Y/N to wince.

Now I was pissed, “Let her go! She has nothing to do with this!”

“That’s where you’re wrong. She has everything to do with this, see she’s the key to getting whatever the hell I want from you.”

Before I could do anything Y/N swung her head back smacking Wofat in the nose before ducking down giving Kono a clean shot. When Wofat went down with a bullet in his abdomen I ran towards them and checked Y/N over. After she reassured me she was fine just a little bruised I grabbed Wofat by the collar and slammed him into the wall behind us, “I swear to God that if you touch her, threaten her, or even look at her again I’ll break every bone in your body and then put a bullet between your eyes!”

Wofat smirked again before spitting up blood and saying, “I can only imagine how much fun she is behind closed doors McGarrett, maybe one day I’ll find out.”

I didn’t stop myself this time I punched him once knocking him out cold before turning around and pulling Y/N into a hug. I pulled away and pulled her into a kiss before apologizing, “I’m so sorry baby.”

She smiled before placing her hands over mine that were cupping her cheeks before nuzzling into my hand and saying, “Its okay baby, I’m okay. It’s not your fault there was no way of knowing what he had planned what matters is you finally got him.”

I pulled her in for another kiss before whispering, “I love you.” I smiled as she whispered back, “Till the end of time?” I nodded before chuckling a little and saying, “Yeah, till the end of time.”

I pulled her in for one last kiss while promising myself that I would never let her go, after all the shit I’ve been through I finally have something that makes me happy, and I’ll be damned if I let her go.

#steve mcgarrett x reader #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #kono kalakaua #chin ho kelly #wo fat #hawaii five oh #hawaii #hawaii five 0 #5 0

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