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incendiobrock · 2 months

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Drunk Confessions {Chris Sturniolo}

Summary: Chris, Nick, and fem!reader attend the Tara Yummy party and some drunken confessions are made later on in the night.

A/N: I kinda hate how I wrote this but my account is seriously lacking Chris content so hopefully you will enjoy anyways lmao, if it's not too shitty lmk if you might want a part 2

Warnings: drinking, mentions of throwing up, super sweet, fluffy chris 🥹

“Alright, you guys have fun!” Matt said as he dropped you Nick, and Chris off at the front of the building. You could hear the music blasting through the walls as people celebrated Tara. Matt wasn’t really feeling up to going to a party which worked perfectly in your favor knowing you had a reliable DD to pick you up later in the night. Chris and Nick wouldn’t drink either but you would never trust them to safely operate a vehicle so Matt was the best choice for the job.

Nick walked ahead of you as Chris stayed by your side, his right hand lightly touching your lower back as he guided you both inside. You all had smiles etched onto your face as you entered the upbeat atmosphere filled with some of your influencer friends. Tara immediately saw you guys and pulled you into a hug, “Thank you so much for coming!” She shouted over the music.

“We wouldn’t miss it!” You replied, congratulating her on hitting a million subscribers. Your eyes scanned the room noticing the bar, officially deciding that would be your next stop. Chris’s hand never left your lower back as he and Nick continued to talk to Tara. “I’ll be right back,” You said into Chris’s ear, departing the group.

The bar was filled with people trying to order different drinks. A special menu placed in the center with some specific drinks for Tara. You ordered a vodka cran and even got roped into taking a shot with some others that were at the bar. Without your knowledge, Chris kept a close eye on you from across the room. He loved seeing you have fun, especially knowing that you had been stressed with other things the past few weeks.

You needed to let loose and have a little fun, he thought. The liquor burned going down your throat as you took your shot, using a lime wedge as your chaser. Before you knew it, you were a few drinks in, and maybe a couple shots.

You felt like you were floating through the crowd as you made your way back to your friends. You wrapped an arms around both Chris and Nick’s shoulders, standing in between the two. “Heyyyy,” You slurred slightly.

“Where have you been?” Nick chuckled, trying to keep you supported as you swayed slightly into his side. “Yeah, you’ve been all over the place tonight. I saw you over at the bar and then over by the-“ Chris began before you cut him off.

“I wanna dance! Can we please danceee?” You begged, dragging out the end of your sentence. “You guys got this,” Nick said, passing you off to Chris. “Good luck kid.”

You looked up at Chris with big puppy dog eyes, silently restating your request to dance. “Of course, let’s go dance.” He said, placing his hand out for you to take hold of. His fingers interlocked with yours as he pulled you to the crowd of other people dancing. One of your favorite hype songs came on and you felt like you were on top of the world. You were facing Chris with a hand placed on each of his shoulders while his held your waist. You were both jumping around and singing the lyrics to one another. You couldn’t help but admire him as the flashing lights illuminated his face. Maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins but you wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a kiss.

After dancing for a few more songs Chris leaned down to your ear and yelling over the music, “You ready to go? Matt is here to pick us up!” A soft smile played on your face as you nodded, head still spinning from the drinks.

Chris had to practically lift you into your seat as your body stumbled to step up into the vehicle. “Okay- Okay sit still let me buckle you in.” Chris laughed, watching as you immediately started to fill Matt in on the night. The seatbelt buckle latched into place and Chris went to shut your door and hop into the passenger seat. “Chris-“ Your voice comes out in a whine, he glances behind his shoulder looking at you worried. “Are you gonna be sick?”

You shook your head ‘no’, staring into his eyes as he searched your face trying to figure out what was wrong. “Can you sit with me?” Nick agrees and switches seats with his brother, taking over the passenger seat. Chris’s fingers found your hair as he playfully brushed his fingers through it. The drive home was about twenty minutes and you didn’t know if you would make it. Nausea settled in your stomach as the alcohol mixed with the moving car. You ended up rolling down the window to get some fresh, cool air.

As soon as Matt pulled into the garage you were lunging out your door and inside the house. You ran to Chris’s bathroom, not having enough time to shut the door before you were over the toilet bowl. This wasn’t how you were planning on ending the night. Embarrassment started to settle in when you heard footsteps entering the bathroom. “Go awayyy,” you couldn’t lift your head up but you knew who stood in the doorway. The presence was by your side that very next second, “I’m not leaving.” His voice was barely above a whisper, trying to be gentle with you knowing you weren’t feeling well.

“Chris please, this is so embarrassing. I’m okay, I promise.”

“I know you are kid. I brought you some water, do you need anything else?”

“Maybe a shower.” You grumble.

Chris stood up and turned on the hot water for you, letting it heat up before you got in. Delicately, he helped you get out of the outfit you had on as you faced away from him, not wanting to expose yourself. His hand on your bare back as he helped get you into the shower.

Chris stayed right outside the shower, scrolling on his phone but making sure he was readily available if you needed anything. After the shower, you were being dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.

Your body collided with his mattress as you pulled the covers over your body. Chris got in bed beside you, laying flat on his back and keeping a healthy distance between you two. “Can we please cuddle?” You whisper. Without any hesitation he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your torso.

“Thank you, Chris.”

“Don’t mention it kid. It’s no problem.”

Kid. That stupid nickname fell out of his mouth again for the second time tonight. It definitely didn’t feel very nice to hear him say it. You might regret this tomorrow but you were still feeling brave right now.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up.” He asked, looking down at your face as it continued to rest on his chest.

“I love you.”

A chuckle escaped past his lips, “I love you too-“

“No Chris. Like, I love you… I have for so long.” You watched as he tried to process the new information, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“I was scared to tell you because you’re like my best friend and I didn’t want to ruin that but, it’s true. I love you so much.” You finished your little spiel.

“I feel the same way about you, but please let’s talk about this tomorrow. I want you to be able to remember this.” He was so gentle with you, he always was. You had such a special spot that he held in his heart for you. You were sad that he didn’t want to talk about this right now but you knew he was probably right, he normally was. You wanted to remember this conversation and you weren’t certain that you would remember anything when you woke up the next morning.

“Go to sleepy pretty girl, I will talk to you about this in the morning. I want to be able to kiss you when you’re in the right state of mind.” His lips pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, lulling you to sleep.

#chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic

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angel-eyes05 · 1 year

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bite the hand (chapter 2)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!oc x miguel o’hara

summary: lorena's whole world was taken away from her in the blink of an eye, after she accidentally broke a canon event. lucky for her though, she was able to find a portal watch in her dimension and used it to get out before she glitched out of existence. unfortunately though, running from dimension to dimension, she's been named as an anomaly by the spider society. now, she's constantly on the run from them, their leader in particular. when she eventually gets caught though, she's recruited onto a mission to catch another anomaly who might be from her past. to her dismay though, her partner on this mission is her very captor. will she be able to stop arguing with him for long enough to get the job done?

info: enemies to lovers, maybe a slow burn depending on chapter count, oc is 24 and miguel is 27, both oc and miguel are super sad lmao, they're also both super violent so, they also hate each other what a slay, in regards to my oc you can read her character sheet right here

warnings: there might be spoilers for atsv in this so watch the movie before reading this, recreational drug use, blood mention, cursing, not much tbh

word count: 3.3k

notes: again, if you see me use "you" instead of "she/her" just ignore it i probably missed it while proofreading and it's instinct lol. this chapter took me so long for no reason idk why

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“I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” Eddie said, jumping onto Lorena’s bed next to her. Lorena took a long drag from her blunt and passes it to Eddie when he snuggles in next to her. “I don’t know. I just have so much work due by the end of this week and I don’t know how to get it all done,” she said, wiping her hands across her face. Eddie took a hit, set the joint onto the ashtray on Lorena’s nightstand and pressed soft kisses into the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms around her stomach. “You already get super good grades, I don’t see how you can’t just not turn in one assignment. Take a little break,” he says in between pecks.

She sighs. “I don’t know. You know how my aunt and uncle are.” They sit together in silence for a little bit, until Eddie presses his lips to her cheek and rolls of the bed. Lorena stared at him in confusion. “What are you doing?” she asked him. He looked through Lorena’s stack of records, pulled one out, and placed the vinyl onto the record player. Soft R&B music echoed throughout the room as Eddie walked back over to the bed, reaching out his hand for Lorena to take. She raised her eyebrow at him. “Just take it ok?” he said, a little annoyed. She sighed and put her hand into his as he helped her stand off the bed. He pulled her into him, placed a hand on her left hip, and put her into a swaying notion with him.

“God you must be so high Eddie, you never dance.”

“Will you just go with it?”

She sighed. “Fine.”

Lorena rested her head onto his shoulder and swayed with him to the rhythm of the song, the singer’s voice fading into the background with the rest of her bedroom as her senses melted away. She closed her eyes and all she could sense at this moment was him, wrapping both of his arms around her waist. He was right, this was definitely calming her down. Eddie Brock always knew how to get Lorena out of her bad moods. They’d known each other for such a long time that she had begun to think he knew her better than she knew herself.

There were some things he didn’t know about her though. Like how she had randomly gotten superpowers about a month ago and that was why she was spending less time with him recently. But if she were being honest with herself, it kind of felt like he was pulling away from her too.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and pressed her forehead to his. She brushed her thumb across his stubbled cheek, and locked her lips with his, his grip on her hips tightening. “Thank you,” she whispered to him once she pulled away. “Anything for you gorgeous.” She giggled a little bit and dug her head back into the crook of his neck. Her hiding place away from the world outside them

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Lorena could see the neon orange illuminations from the insides of her eyes. Once she finally did open them up, the effects of the poison now wearing off, the harshness of the light nearly blinded her. What was that just then? A dream? No, a memory. One of her favorites too. Her childhood best friend turned boyfriend, who she then ended up accidentally killing. She didn’t know it was him inside that monster. She had tried not to think about him too often, overwhelmed with the guilt of her actions, despite whether her choice was the right one or not.

Her head rested up against whatever forcefield/cell she was currently in. She tried to move the rest of her body up as well, but stopped after her ribs sent an aching pain through her body in protest. She was still in her suit, so she couldn’t examine how bad her injury was yet, but she could tell it wasn’t good by how much blood she was coughing up earlier.

She took a look around her see through enclosure, trying to get a gauge of where she was. There were hundreds of other cages surrounding hers, only about half filled with people. Or creatures would be a better word to describe it. She felt as if she recognized some of them, such as a man with mechanical arms outstretched from his back, and a man with a lion vest. She sat there for a bit, taking everything in from her surroundings, her momentary peace interrupted when she started glitching again.

“I guess Jess forgot to give you the day pass while bringing you in.”

“¡Ay, carajo!” she exclaimed, her heart nearly jumping out of her chest. She turned her head to see a guy, speaking with a thick cockney accent, guitar slung across his back, just rolling around in a chair down the hallway. “A warning next time would be nice.” “I thought you saw me,” he said, uninterested.

“Hobie, could you stop conversing with the anomalies for five seconds?” This voice she recognized. The woman walked up from behind her cell up to who she assumed was the Hobie kid she was talking to. The woman was the same one who had debriefed Lorena when she first got shot into the wrong dimension, except this time she looked like she was pregnant. That must be Jess. “Just trying to make conversation,” Hobie said defensively. He played around with the watch on his wrist and opened up a portal to hop into whatever dimension he was heading into next. Jess rolled her eyes as another man followed up close behind her. The same man from earlier, still wearing that red and blue suit that was hurtful to the eyes. His mask was still covering his face. Both of them turned to face Lorena’s cage, causing her to slink further back into the corner instinctively, as if they were both about to eat her heart out.

“Not so tough now without somewhere to hide, are you?” the man mocked. “Sorry if I don’t find waking up in cage as the most warming welcome,” she snapped back. “What? Were you expecting flowers and a carriage, you little shit.” Jess smacked his arm quickly, almost as if he were a child being reprimanded by his mother.

“You’re a hard one to catch,” Jess said. “Your first instinct would probably also be to run if you found someone like him chasing behind you,” Lorena said, motioning to the man. He just stood there stoically. It pissed her off even more. She sighed. “Let’s just cut to the chase and skip the small talk and just tell me what you want fro-.” Her words were cut off by a harsh glitch. This one in particular stung around her ribs. She went into a slight coughing fit, and coughed up some extra blood into her hand after. “Shit,” Jess whispered to herself, and dug through her pocket to look for the day pass Hobie was mentioning earlier. Just before she could open a little hole in the forcefield to hand it to her, the man placed a hand in front of Jess, as if to stop her. Lorena laid on the floor in pain, panting from the glitch, as the man walked closer to her enclosure and crouched in front of the barrier.

His hand reached up to his neck, as her hooked his fingers underneath his mask, and smoothly pulled it off and tossed it to the side. God, he was gorgeous. Dark brown hair, the front slicked back while the sides hung free. Sharp cheekbones that perfectly sculpted his face. And those eyes. They were almost hypnotic. She couldn’t tell if the orange lighting of the room was messing with her vision, but she could’ve sworn his eyes were a crimson red. She prayed that she wasn’t blushing right now, the intensity of his stare putting butterflies into her stomach. After staring at her for a little, a smirk curled onto his lips, allowing his left fang to slightly peek out over his bottom lip.

He stood up, looking down at Lorena now, like she was no more than an injured animal on the side of the road. He signaled his hand back at Jess for the day pass. She tossed it to him, and he opened a slight crack into the cage and slipped it in. Lorena almost rushed for it, shoving it onto her wrist, and earning a scoff from the man. He turned his back to her and walked back over to Jess. She took a moment to look at him, confused. “We need your help,” she finally said.

The only think Lorena could do was laugh. And she laughed hard. She only stopped when her ribs quickly reminded her of their condition. “What’s so funny?” the man asked, annoyed. “Nothing,” she said, wiping the tears forming in her eyes and a pity smile forming on her face. “I just can’t think of a single reason you think I would help you.”

“Because if you don’t, we take that wristband away and throw you back into the streets,” he said coldhearted. “See how much fun it is to have your atoms slowly ripped apart, one by one, into nothing. You’ll wish we had killed you ourselves instead of being a victim to time as it waits for the right time to finally end your suffering.”

Her smile slowly dropped. A smirk formed on his face. She wished she could smack it off. She must have really been a problem for him to be getting this worked up over her little comments. Jess just sighed, tired of him constantly taking his bad cop role too far. “Well, if you do help us, I can promise you this. You get to keep that little day pass of yours, and we’ll drop you off in whatever dimension you’d like, and you never have to see any of us again.” Then it was the man smacking her arm this time. “Jess…may we have a word for a second,” he said, as calmly as he could right now. “Of course we can Miguel!” she said back, with fake enthusiasm. Huh. So that was his name.

Miguel pulled Jess farther back into the room and began talking to her. Lorena scooted closer to the wall closer to them, trying to make out their conversation. She caught a few sentences.

“That is not what we agreed to!”

“Hey, you get to go off script, so do I. Plus, what are we really gonna do with her once the mission’s complete?”

Mission? What mission?

“It’s not like she has anywhere else she can go. You’re just gonna stick her back into one of these cages for the rest of her life? ”

“I’d rather that then have an anomaly just running around on a world that isn’t her’s.”

There was that word again. Anomaly. She hated the way Miguel would say it. The inflection in his voice making it sound like a dirty word. That she was a dirty person.

“Come on O’hara, you have to have at least a little bit of compassion left in there.”

It went quiet for a bit. She couldn’t tell if they had just stopped talking, or if they had gotten quieter. Then she saw them walking back over to her. She scooted back to her corner of the cage. Miguel sighed deeply before talking, and Lorena could’ve sworn she heard a quiet “Ay coño” under his breath. Then he spoke.

“If you help us, we’ll let you free and you’ll never have to see any of us again. But try and dimension hop after we leave, desert the mission, or try anything slick and I swear-.” Jess smacked him again. “Do you agree to the terms?” She said. Lorena took a second to think. “....You haven’t even told me what the mission is yet.” Miguel let out a long sigh and turned his head to stare at Jess. She just shrugged. He could feel the gray hairs growing on his head as Lorena spoke. “Lyla?” he called out, pressing his bridge with his fingers. “Yup,” the same avatar from earlier said as she popped up. This must’ve been his assistant or something. “Can you pull up the mission file?” “....What’s the magic word?”

Lorena could’ve sworn she just saw three new wrinkles pop up on Miguel’s forehead. “He’s gonna shut you off pretty soon Lyla,” Jess interjected. “Ugh, fine,” Lyla said. A tiny illuminated file cabinet popped up as Lyla sifted through it. “Could you spare us the antics for a second?” “Hey, if you’re gonna turn me into your personal slave, you might as well let me have fun with it,” Lyla shot at Miguel. Lorena hoped Miguel couldn’t hear her slight giggle. Her hopes were crushed when she saw Miguel giving her a death stare to her out of the corners of his eyes. She slouched down as an attempt to hide away from his insistent glare

“Here it is!” Lyla exclaimed, pulling up a digital file. She threw it to the floor, causing a slideshow presentation to pop up out of it. The first slide was simply the front cover of a file. “Thank you Lyla,” Miguel said. “At your service,” Lyla replied, taking a bow, and then popping out of the room. Miguel took another sigh, seemingly the only emotion he expressed other than anger. “Take it Jess,” he said, facing her. Jess walked up closer to Lorena’s enclosure before swiping the cover of the file open.

“So obviously, you’ve gotten the whole idea of anomalies through your head at this point.” “It’s hard not to when you two wont shut up about them,” Lorena responded. Jess ignored her attitude. “Some just happen to be more dangerous than others, and also slip through our fingers easier. I’m sure you would know a lot about that.” Lorena gave Jess a big, forced smile. “It’s my pleasure.” Jess returned the smile. “We have one in particular that, like you, has managed to get a hold of one of our watches. He’s been hopping in between dimensions at fast speeds and seems to be gathering materials for something. We’re not sure what for. Which means we have to catch him as soon as possible.”

“Uh huh, uh huh,” Lorena said, uninterested. “Why do you think I’ll be able to help you though.” “Because we’ve found that you’ve had a particularly close relationship with one of his variants,” Jess said, flipping to the next slide. “What the hell does that mean? You guys don’t make any sen-.”

She looked up at the projection. Her eyes softened and her mouth laid slightly agape. Her eyes had to be fooling her, there was no way. But there he was. His picture brought memories flooding back into her head. Her nails scratching through his blonde-ish hair. Both of them smoking in her room. Him running into her arms when things were getting too rough for him back at home. He hadn’t just been her boyfriend. He was her best friend too. One of her only ones on top of that. But at the end of the day, all of the warmth that their time together brought to her was quickly washed away by the returning sight of her hands drowning in his blood as he faded away from her. Would she have still done “the right thing” if she knew it was him inside that creature. She would constantly run away from that thought every time it would sneak its way back into her mind.

She couldn’t find it in her to care about the slight smirk Miguel was giving her, amazed at how easily a picture could knock her off her high horse. He probably enjoyed seeing her so vulnerable. Jess on the other hand, had a slight frown on her face, understanding how much this had to be messing with her.

“It’s not yours,” Miguel said, breaking the silence. “The multiverse might be weird, but it can’t bring people back from the dead. This Venom is from Earth-86. Yours was from Earth-2497.” “Yeah…I know,” Lorena said, almost as if she wasn’t fully there. “We’ve seen your history with Eddie Brock through the the scanners. You’ve gotten to know him better than any of the rest of us have,” Jess said. “You might be able to tell his next move. His patterns.” Lorena was quickly catching on what Jess was saying. Before Jess could continue her proposition, Lorena stood up and quickly interjected.

“Nope, no no no, no way. I’m not catching him for you. You can’t seriously think that you can ask me to catch an alternate version of my dead best friend and I would agree,” she said, panic in her voice. “For once I agree with her that this is a very bad idea,” Miguel said, clenching his teeth towards Jess. “You have anyone else you wanna recruit?” she asked rhetorically to him. “You won’t be able to stop her emotions from getting in the way of the mission,” he said, avoiding the question. “It’s rude to talk badly of your guests while they’re still in the room,” Lorena shouted sarcastically at Miguel. “Cállate! I’ll get back to you in a second,” Miguel shouted back. Jess sighed. “Well it’s a good thing I’m not going with her, because I’m sure you’ll do a great job at that.” His eyes widened in horror. So did Lorena’s. She started laughing. “¡No mames!” she chuckled, still in disbelief.

Miguel looked at her, bewildered at her laughing fit. “Jess that is, not, what we agreed on.” “I know, I know, but I had a talk with my husband, and he doesn’t want me going on any dangerous missions while I’m pregnant, and we don’t know how tough this guy is going to be. So I think it’s better if you take this one. And plus, just like you said, I won’t be able to keep her under control. But I’m sure you can!” she said, a sarcastic smile on her face. Once Lorena finished laughing, she turned to face Miguel. “Yeah I’m sure you’ll do a great job controlling my emotions,” she shot at him. Miguel almost pounced towards the cage, before Jess put her arm in front of this. “Can you please just do this one thing for me?” He took a second to think. Then he sighed. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” Jess said softly before walking away. Miguel walked up towards the cage and put in a combination to open up the enclosure. “Wait, hold on a second, so do I not get a say in this?” Lorena scoffed. Once Miguel had opened the door, she tried to make a run for it, but was stopped when Miguel grabbed her forearm. He pulled her into his chest. This is when she was finally able to gauge how massive he actually was. She was never really considered short, being taller than most girls her age throughout her school years. But up against him, she felt like an ant.

“No. You don’t, chiquita,” he finally whispered into her ear. Chills rolled down her spine at the intimacy of all of this. The nickname only made her even more upset. He whipped her body around and placed a forcefield around her fists, shackling both of them together. He almost had to drag her out of the containment room and into his office to discuss the details of the mission.

She had almost wished that she had stayed in that basement, not prepared for whatever torture this man was going to bring onto her.

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NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: NEVER TRUST A MAN WHO CALLS YOU SHORT EVEN THOUGH YOU AREN'T‼️‼️‼️ (ive been a personal victim of this so yes i was projecting a little lmao)

taglist: @the-ikran-man @jenniferdixon05207 @yuuuumii @elwyn7 @waniesss @lust-for-pan

#miguel o'hara x oc #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #fanfiction #fem!reader #into the spider verse #fanfic #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderverse #spiderverse oc #spiderverse 2

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redwayfarers · 3 months

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survivor - for the random word generator prompt!

hello! sorry for the wait, real life got the better of me and i didn't write, but i was reading gide and this came to me like an angel, so i had to write it! if it reads like les faux monnayeurs, i'm so sorry lmao, this is why they tell you not to write immediately after reading (affectionate)

a flickering light, or a tale of two survivors

Fandom: FFXIV Ship: Cassander/Stephanivien (implied), Nika/Minfilia Characters: Cassander Inteus (aka a Cass AU), Nika Perseis (WoL), Stephanivien de Haillenarte Rating: Gen Words: 1759 Spoilers: ARR patches, if you squint. dividers by @saradika

Set during early Heavensward.

The Skysteel Manufactory gets stupidly creepy at night. It’s not lit by torches or something, like some parts of the city - Stephanivien saw to that, he’s too avant-garde for torches, how dare the world not use every technological advancement ever! - and there’s a few of the lamps that go on and off, like a broken clock. Stephanivien is too busy to see that of all things, and we’re all far too enthralled by the creepiness to tell him.

Some of us have weird tastes.

The workshops on higher levels are a mess of metal parts, wires, cogs, magical devices and whatever the fuck machinists need. There’s a beauty in that too, in a way. It feels lived in, like a childhood bedroom you can’t yet leave even though you’re getting married tomorrow. Except that I was an adult when I first saw this room, and that I’d have no idea what a beloved childhood room would look, let alone feel like. My childhood bedroom - or the room where I spent a large part of what people call a childhood, anyways - is pristine, devoid of personality, rich, opulent. It’s a stage more than anything. Only thing remotely lived in in that whole fucking room - no, the whole shitty house - is the bright, orange pillow with Dzemael sigil sewn on it.

It was embarrassing, packing your childhood pillow, the first time I left to spend the night in the Manufactory. But maybe I am embarrassing, deep down, so I get to keep my little pillow with me and go freeze in the messy, lived in workshops overnight. The more I got used to that, the less embarrassing it felt.

One day, I might even go take it to Coerthas and drown in a river there. I’m sure my mother would be happier for it. She found the pillow rather tacky anyways.

“It was very.. Kind of you to let me in,” I told Stephanivien one night, seated beside him to watch him work. His eyeshadow bore the signs of wearing, a little messy at the edges. His forehead gleamed with sweat. The lamp was dying, but he was too engrossed in his work to notice and I was too engrossed in him to tell him.

“Kind? Cassander, your mother is an absolute bitch. Even if you weren’t as pretty as you are, I would have taken you in regardless. Between us, darling, you’re wasted in that house.” He smiled, widely. “You look much better with a gun in your hand, I will say.”

“You will,” I laugh, looking at my hands. My cheeks were burning. “I think I like guns. Long ones in particular. Elegant. You may think I’m referring to something else, but no, I am referring to metal objects you use to shoot things with.”

“You’re funny,” Stephanivien shakes his head. “I can make you one, if you’d like. Golden, to match the pillow.”

“My future gun has a bed now, who would’ve thought.” I reached out and grasped his gloved hand, dirty from the work. Stephanivien smiled, and it seemed brighter than the dying lamp above our heads.

Maybe I’m also a little fond of that struggling, dying thing. I go up sometimes, when it’s cold, or rainy, or everyone’s simply too busy for me and my jobless ass, sit beneath it and look at the gun Stephanivien gave me. A nameday gift, engraved with a little dagger. It’s in pristine condition, but I clean it anyway, with all the care you afford a priceless, porcelain vase; the light flickers, on and off, but I don’t need it to see the little dagger engraving, the nooks and the crannies and the long barrel that feels like something my mother would hate.

That, too, brings me joy. Theokleia de Dzemael hates machinists, on principle. The fact that I not only own a gun, but can shoot with it, is a kind of pleasure I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of some 5 years ago.

This particular evening, I climb up the stairs to the workshop, coffee in hand, ready to clean it from the last practice from earlier. A curl that the goggles aren’t holding up tickles my temple, but I’ll be damned if I let my coffee spill just because of one stray piece of hair that refuses to sit still. I kick the door open.

“I like your gun,” someone says before I can fully register them. A pair of mismatched eyes moves from the weapon to me and my coffee. “Did you also drink the last of the coffee?”

“I’m not a coffee maniac,” I grumble, frowning. “I can’t drink all of it. What kind of question is that, for fuck’s everloving sake?”

Nika looks at me with an equal furrow. However, that’s his MO, and mine is decidedly not. I have been known to grin maniacally once or twice. “One that needs answering.”

The light flickers above our heads. It casts a sudden light onto his face, and shines a weak light onto the hazel eye and the scar on his nose and cheek. Ouch. His lips are pulled in a tight line, his short, black hair in disarray, a stark contrast to the finery of the clothes he’s wearing - courtesy of his hosts here in Ishgard.

For a Warrior of Light, he is very gloomy and dark. An asshole, too. You’d think the Warrior of Light, of all people, would be a hero, but no, we’re stuck with a perpetually frowning asshole. What a joy.

“What do you want? Move, I need that desk.” I place the overfilled cup down as roughly as I can. “There’s no fucking coffee here except the one on the table, and that’s mine.”

“I paid you a compliment,” he says, unmoving. “You could at least say thank you. You nobles should have manners.”

“Je suis plein de gratitude. I know you paid me a compliment, but the question later made no sense so that had to be addressed first.”

Nika looks at the gun again. He taps his fingers against the wood in a rhythm, three taps forward, one tap backward, three strong, one a glide, then in reverse. He then looks at his feet and takes a deep breath. “Minfilia is better at this sort of thing. She knows how to talk to you higher classes.”

“Minfilia?” Who the fuck is this Minfilia woman? I readjust my goggles, and push the tickling curl away from my skin. Is she his lover, his sister? His friend? I can’t imagine him caring about anyone, including himself. From what little he’s been here in the Manufactory, a stray taken in by Stephanivien’s brightness much like me, all he did is make nonsense sentences and antagonize everyone.

“Someone very dear to me. But she isn’t here, and neither is Alphinaud, so you’re stuck with me.”

Alphinaud? Oh yeah, one of the other wards. The elezen kid. Whoever did his braid deserves to be fired because it’s needlessly messy and terrible. “Which would be fine, if you stopped speaking in riddles. Now can I sit, Warrior of Light, or will you clean my likeable gun for me? I’m not making you coffee.”

“In riddles? I’m not–” Nika frowns yet again. “Have your gun, whats-your-face.”

“Cassander. Cassander de Dzemael.”

“Cassander,” he says, like he’s testing the name. I look down at him.

The light flickers. Something crosses his face, and his eyes look painfully vulnerable for a moment, and he’s tapping his fingers in the same rhythm again.

“Why are you here, Nika?” I ask. I don’t know why my voice becomes so gentle. Maybe because I’m towering over him, and if I kept the hard edge, it would scare him off, not that I care about that. Maybe if I spoke gentler, he’d buck less under every question. Maybe he’d even start making sense.

Or maybe the images of my mother’s hard voice echo in my head, like a hammer to the anvil. Now it is my turn to grip the table until my nail beds go a little pale. Her shouts and her yells, her derisive comments, her hard eyes and her pointed anger, and her looming, Halone’s ass, the looming! Do I sound like that? Do I sound as rough as she does?

Nika’s quiet for a while. He keeps looking at his hands, rough and harsh. “That’s none of your business,” he rasps, but moves so that I could sit. “If someone needs me, they don’t know where to look.”

I sit and take a long sip of my coffee. “Just mind the pillow, then. And try not to interrupt. This is something of a sacred ritual, you see. Halone-ordained. When you go to church, they tell you you must clean your gun or else she will smite you, or something.”

He huffs.

“Or so I hear,” I add with a shrug. “I’m not frequently in church.”

The light flickers.

“Minfilia would also laugh at that,” Nika says. I still have no idea who this Minfilia is, but she’s welcome to laugh at my jokes, wherever she is. “Will they fix the fucking thing?”

I take a sip of coffee. “Don’t think so. It’s rather cute. On and off. We all like weird things, I think, and my particular weird thing is this broken little lamp. Besides, I’m sure Stephanivien will notice at some point or another. When it dies, probably.”

“He’s the one making these guns, I’d rather he didn’t make me a faulty one,” Nika shrugs. “But if he sees, it’s whatever. It’s just annoying. You asked me earlier why I’m here. I was drawn to the gun. I think it has a nice shot.” He pauses. “I’m sure that the Fortemps family can pay for one of these.”

“Pretty sure they can, yeah. This one’s mine, though.”

“I’m not in the habit of stealing people’s weapons.”

I lift a brow. “Never said you were.”

Nika shakes his head and heads for the door. The light flickers and he looks up. “Someone should really fix the damn thing,” he says, a little less angry than before. He’s then gone, tucking his waistcoat tighter for warmth, and I watch him go before he’s part of the shadows and I can take out my tools.

We all like weird things. Some of us like long-barreled guns. Some of us like women named Minfilia, and speaking in riddles. And who knows? Maybe this broken little lamp refuses to die because it likes us, too.

Halone works in weird fucking ways.

#ffxiv #nero plays ffxiv #inspo birb has come to town #nika perseis #cassander inteus #stephanivien de haillenarte #heavensward #ffxiv writing #ffxiv fic #ffxiv wol #ishgard #this crossover needed to happen and i will be pondering the orb that it is for the forseeable future. thanks gide

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johnslittlespoon · 1 month

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ok okokk i may be pushing it but i just cant stop picturing barry circa 2012 with leaving!bucky. i just feel like theyd have the cutest dynamic ever. he gives art student vibes like maybe hes studying film or literature. theyre childhood bestfriends and maybe they were eachother's homoerotic-codependent-friendship canon event. UGHH theyd be so cute stfuu. and maybe bucky and gale are already established and curt is just yearning for a whileee like over a year of slow burn until the three of them are a throuple... idk i just miss curtbuckbucky. you dont have to change your canon for the long fic i just needed to share this idea lmfao

au post | NO ur not pushing it this is such fun world building teehee <33 genuinely this is gonna help me later for drafting! (FUCK MY LIFE HOW IS THIS 2K WORDS. i thought i only had a few thoughts... i was so wrong. my bad chief. enjoy/suffer ig)

ok so this is so funny because i've actually been thinking ab how sweet those two would be together, cute little nerdy besties, and how they'd meet because of course curt has to be in this fic!!

and the first thing my mind went to was the cliche homoerotic codependent friendship trope too LMAO. i'm feeling like maybe they meet on the first day of highschool; neither of them share their english class with any friends, and they end up sat next to each other, and john keeps side–eyeing him because curt looks... interesting. (ie: deep into his emo phase. the fringe. the smudged eyeshadow. chipped black nail polish, band shirts– all things john does not let him live down as they grow up.)

but his eyes settle on some pin on curt's jacket that has some character from his favourite movie or something, and the yap jumps out, john can't control it. blurts out a "you like ___ too?!" and curt's head snaps over and he nods nervously and john takes one look at those big sad charcoal–ringed blue puppy eyes and is like yup. this is the one. will protect with my life.

(tiny headcanon that rly won't have a big effect on plot or anything, but i feel like it just fits very well with john/his character in leaving– dude's got madddd undiagnosed adhd. he's written off as a loud mouth/troublemaker in his childhood, but he wants to be a good kid, his mind is just always going too fast and sitting still is torture and his parents get frustrated and don't look into the root of the problem, trying to discipline it out of him instead. i will heal my inner child by healing him alright)

they're attached at the hip from that moment on and it makes sense to no one because they seem like complete opposites, curt more inclined towards the arts and bookish things and his friends are all the same, whereas john is more inclined towards athletics and science and hangs around that type of crowd as well. but they both love video games and movies and music and they bond over never really feeling like they fit in anywhere particular and both groups of friends get along just fine when they all get together. <3

but yk time goes on, they learn things about themselves as they grow up, and curt and john are so close and spend so much time together that they're already a lot closer than regular friends– they just don't realize it. they think nothing of cuddling up on the couch watching movies together, or sharing a bed when john stays over at curt's place after he gets into a fight with his parents, or being much more interested in spending time together than pursuing girls.

and curt's pretty– john nearly mistakes him for a girl that first day they meet. the summer before their senior year, john practically spends the whole summer at curt's house, and curt's mom doesn't mind; she works long hours and is glad her son isn't spending the summer moping around indoors alone, and she loves john and gets the feeling that her home is a sanctuary for him. one day they're in the backyard lazing around, and they get onto the topic of first kisses, and neither of them have had a proper relationship outside of those classic week–long middleschool flings that don't actually mean anything, so there's not much to talk about.

but being dumb teenage boys, they start worrying about "what if we're really bad at kissing and no girls wanna go with us to senior prom this year" etc. and one of them pops the suggestion of practicing together, and thus begins a summer of sweet stolen kisses and hand holding and experimenting and dancing around calling it something. it ends when the summer does because they realize that they both work better as friends, but they're as close as ever and both definitely learn they aren't straight (and they probably make a cute pact– "if we aren't in love by the time we're thirty, we'll just marry each other.")

i don't see them really doing much together because they're young and shy and inexperienced, but it's enough for john to decide that yeah, he definitely likes guys too, but that's all that really amounts to (until he meets gale) because he's growing up in a small town in wisconsin and it's not the easiest/most accepting place to find other queers. john probably ends up dating a real sweet girl during his last year of highschool, but she's going away for college and john's going to a local one so it ends amicably at the end of summer, both of them staying close friends. (if we wanna get sickeningly wholesome, maybe she ends up pining for a girl while john's pining for gale and they share their little stories and give each other advice and facetime every week to catch up <3)

(++ curt ends up falling head over heels for ken, who he meets through john when curt and john's friend groups get together for movie nights or summer parties. john pretends to be annoyed at how lovesick they are when they first start crushing, but he ends up matchmaking and being the one to push them to confess their feelings after graduation because he loves his friends.)

BUT THEN, leaving this fic's 'canon' to elaborate on the throuple stuff you said! i miss curtbuckbucky too </3

in a separate universe, curt doesn't end up with ken, and as much as he loves his friendship with john and agrees that a relationship wouldn't have worked at that time in their lives, he spends that first year of college pining. when john starts talking about some guy named gale during their second year, he's a little sad, but mostly protective, because "what do you MEAN he's in his 30s??" and "he's a BIKER?"

but john eventually introduces him to gale after a few months of telling curt about him, probably once he and gale actually start seeing each other, and curt immediately gets it. and then he's in double–hell because not only is he a bit (a lot) in love with his best friend, but he's blushing every time said best friend's new bf talks to him, and they're gonna notice eventually if they haven't already and he feels so guilty.

more yearning ensues and john is dense and doesn't realize but gale picks up on it, maybe even notices john doing a bit of pining of his own that john's not fully aware of. and his heart twists because his mind goes to his own insecurities about how john should be seeing someone his own age, so he sits john down and opens up a conversation about it. john is adamant that he's very, very happy with gale, but he tells gale about his and curt's past and admits that he has always still had feelings for him, but insists that it's not something he'd ever pursue, that he values curt's friendship more.

gale throws him off by saying he wouldn't mind if john wanted to explore those feelings, and at first john gets anxious gale is calling things off with the two of them and this is his way of softening the blow, but gale reassures him that's not the case, that he's very happy with their relationship. he just encourages that if he wants to talk to curt and feel things out, he wouldn't be opposed to john and curt seeing each other as well– gale's often busy, after all, so it would be nice for john to have someone else, as long as curt's comfortable with that kind of arrangement and as long as john keeps gale in the loop.

they decide to kinda just feel it out as they go, but soon enough gale starts coming home from work every so often to find the two of them curled up on his couch together, sweet and innocent. curt's wary at first, always slightly detaching himself from john when gale's around, but gale is always friendly and doesn't change up his routine, settling on the couch at john's other side like it's not a big deal at all, wanting to show curt he's welcome there, not wanting john to feel guilty.

it's another scenario where lines just sorta start to blur over time, curt spending a lot of time over at gale's house, and gale sees the way curt looks at him, probably noticed it from the first time they met but chalked it up to nerves at the time. curt's an angel and he's grown quite fond of him, but he doesn't want to overstep, so he leaves it up to curt, thinking maybe the boy will mention it to john one day and john will in turn come to gale to talk about it.

and eventually that happens, just like gale thought it might. curt's just gone home and john's head is in his lap on the couch while they watch tv, and john asks "what do you think about curt?" and gale tells him that he's sweet and he loves how much john smiles when he's around him, the usual. "so you like him?" john pushes, and gale immediately has a feeling where this conversation is going, drags his eyes away from the tv to look down at john.

says "of course" easily, and lets john take his time forming his thoughts. john ends up telling him that he and curt were fooling around earlier while gale was at work (and god help gale for the images that puts in his head) and that he'd made some offhand comment about how curt better hurry up if he doesn't want gale to come home and catch him half naked on their couch. and john's all shy when he says "and curt, uh. y'know. that... did it for him" with a vague gesture LOL. gale never fails to find it amusing how certain things can fluster john to talk about after all they've done together.

"so, anyway. i asked him about it after, if it was a coincidence, and he was real shy about it, but he did admit after a whole lot of apologizing that he likes you." gale listens to him nervously get his words out, petting his hair encouragingly, waits for him to be done before he asks "how do you feel about that?" only to watch the flush return when john mumbles "it's hot."

this is getting sooo long i need to take away my own typing privileges, but basically that's how things would start between the three of them– john and gale agree that gale will let himself be a bit flirty with curt and see how curt takes it. obviously this goes a little too well when curt gets hot and bothered sat between john and gale during a movie night with john's hand on his knee and gale's arm resting on the couch behind him while he plays with curt's hair.

the movie is forgotten when gale's finger catches on a tangled curl and curt doesn't bite back the little whine that slips out in time and john's head snaps over and he mumbles a "fuck" when he realizes what's happened, and his lack of filter comes out to play when he turns to curt and asks "curt, can gale kiss you?" and curt turns to gale with big doll eyes and nods.

john ends up palming himself over his shorts as he watches gale coax curt into his lap, face hot and pupils blown as he gets to see both his guys make out in front of him, almost dizzy seeing curt get so shy and needy and pliant because when it's just the two of them, he and curt are both very balanced in their dynamic. they've been such close friends for so long that not much gets the other truly shy like that, and they're always quick to voice their wants and crack jokes while fooling around and all. so to see curt get so flustered in that way with gale has him lightheaded, and by the time they all collapse into gale's bed at the end of the night, john's convinced this is the best decision he's ever made.

there's a lot of pining on curt's end because for a while it's kinda just sex when it's the three of them, and he loves it but he also finds himself wanting more but feeling too scared to voice it because he feels like he's intruding. but eventually they all get their shit sorted out; curt fits into their relationship just right in a way gale and john never intended or expected, and gale falls for curt just as much as john has and curt does the same with gale.

gale's got two sweet things glued to his side now and man, do they ever give him a run for his money, and if he'd thought john had too much energy (and stamina) it's nothing compared to keeping up with both of them, but he wouldn't have it any other way. <3

throuple things won't be happening in the actual fic, but i do love the idea of exploring the dynamic the three of them might have in a spin–off of that au so this was rly fun thx :-) maybe i'll write a pwp oneshot set in that universe as an excuse to write more curtbuckbucky once the fic is done LOL we'll see!

#leaving bikeriders au #will proofread later bc i want to get back to the other drabble LOL #i can't believe these keep ending up so longggg #i wish it was this easy for me to get words out like this for my actual fics but alas #drabble and brainrot will always have me in their clutches #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon brainrot #curtbuckbucky #buckbucky

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cardierreh15 · 1 year

Text

Unexpected Outcomes

I did something cute for them… right before these fuckers to get mad at each other again 😂

***I do not give anyone permission to copy or repost my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Violence (Hitting) , Drug & Alcohol Usage , Destruction of Property , Cursing , Choking , TOXIC COUPLE BEHAVIOR !

Description: Anya & Amadeo had been spending more and more time together. When everything seem to be going good, he does something to anger her.

Pairings: Henry Cavill (Amadeo Alessi) x Nicki Minaj (Anya Harris)

Word Count:

Songs for the Chapter: Bad Girls by M.I.A

(I made fake instagram pages lmao leave me alone I think it’s cute)

Fire & Desire

The day they spent together was filled with laughter. The kind that came from the tummy and that filled their eyes with tears. Neither one of them could really believe that they were having this much fun… together. Drinking the finest wine, eating the best cheeses and enjoying the autumn sun.

Sitting there with a slight smirk on her face, she was got lost in her own thoughts. Maybe … this won’t be so bad after all. He really is a great guy. She then felt his eyes burning a hole into the side of her head. Anya lifted her head a little bit, glancing over at him with those telling eyes. ‘What?’

Amadeo had this knowing smirk spread across his lips, ‘You’re thinking about me… aren’t you?’

‘Wha—‘ she scoffed, her mouth slightly dropping as she began to muster up a excuse, ‘I — I was not!’ Her face heated as her small smirk grew into a cheeky smile. This caused Amadeo to laugh, ‘I knew it! You don’t hate me as much as you think you do missy.’ He then reached over to grab his glass of wine.

‘Oh— shut up. You’re flattering yourself now.’ She rolled her eyes and looked at her watch. 5:56pm. ‘I gotta get out of here,’ she sighed, kind of not ready but she had already canceled her day plans with her mother, Nadine would probably hang her if she missed dinner too.

‘Yeah— it’s getting late.’ He added as he looked down at his watch as well. He downed the rest of his white wine and started cleaning up their mess, putting everything back into the wooden panic basket.

Anya had stood up, stepping off of the blanket, digging her toes into the white warm sand. Hmph, when was the last time she was able to enjoy the sun like this? It had seem like she was busy all the time. And after today, after seeing how carefree Amadeo lived— how happy he lived… she needed a vacation.

Lost in her own head again, Amadeo’s voice brought her out of her trance. ‘Hey,’ his eyes sized her for a moment, lingering at her lips a little longer than the other parts of her body, ‘I had a good time today. You’re a lot tolerable to hang around when you’re not angry.’ He chuckled, holding the wooden basket in his fist.

‘So are you.’ She smiled, looking up into his eyes as he looked down into hers. It was like the world had stopped around them… it was like something inside of both of them had clicked… they had both finally come to terms that it would be bad for the both of them if they fought this. And figured that simply getting along was a lot easier and wasted a lot less energy doing so.

But in this moment… this felt like more than getting along. It felt like… like they were finally bonding. It felt like… love.

‘Here. Let me walk you to your car.’ Amadeo said after clearing his throat to break the silence.

Once at her car, she unlocked the doors with her key fob and he opened her door for her. ‘Thanks.’ She said softly. Anya looked back at him, her emotions running wild with impulse. Go kiss him. Tongue him down so good that he’ll wanna take you home. Show him what’s yet to come.

No.

Anya walked back towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her small hands rest on his muscular back, finger tips slightly digging in to ensure stability. Her head rest against his firm chest, listening to his slow paced heart. And then she gently inhaled, his cologne had once again made love to her nose… overloading her senses, igniting a raging fire within the depths of her core.

He’d wrapped his free arm around her waist, resting his dimpled chin on top of her head. He was tempted to grab a hand full of her voluptuous rump but even as the player everyone referred him to be, he was still a gentleman. Only, unlike Anya, he did give in to other urges.

Slightly pulling back so he could see her face, their eyes had met once again. He’d pushed her curly hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. He allowed it to linger there for a moment before they mutually broke the hug. ‘Get home safe.’ Amadeo said, his voice gentle yet, deep.

‘Of course,’ she smiled softly up at him before walking around her open door and half way stepping in, ‘Call me.’

Amadeo gave her a small smirk, ‘Of course.’

She then got in her car, started it up and drove home.

Days had passed since their encounter at the beach and things between Anya & Amadeo had been great. They texted one another all day, and called every night. Asked one another how their day was going and if they had done anything for their wedding that were to come in the upcoming months.

But tonight… tonight was different.

Anya was sitting in her bedroom, sipping on a glass of Type AB+ while looking online for some ideas for dresses. Until she got a call from one of her close friends.

She decided to screen the call, as she didn’t want to bothered tonight and just enjoy the peace and quiet. Technically, she was ready for bed. Hair wrapped up in a silk bonnet, and in her cute pink custom pajamas. But little did she know that her relaxed mood would flip in a second.

Her friend texted her. ‘Girl.. please check your phone or call me back. ASAP!!’

That was alarming. So she unlocked her phone and as soon as she was about to text back, she received a screen recording of Amadeo kissing on some other chick on Instagram.

‘Are you fucking serious?!’ Anger has blossomed within her in seconds. ‘ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME YO?!’ Damn near kicking her laptop off of her bed, she called her friend back. ‘Get ready bitch! We’re going clubbing!’

***

(Outfit)

It was 11:01pm and she and Royce had finally made it to one of his father’s clubs. The Rabbit Hole. The line was wrapped damn near around the building but she was basically royalty. Anyone who were to tell her no, would face … detrimental consequences.

All eyes were on her and Royce as they made their way towards the bouncers. And they wasted no time unhooking that rope and letting them both through.

Inside, it was just as packed. So many people, she wondered if any of these humans could breathe! Strobe lights danced across the crowd as the DJ created chemistry with his music. Dancers on poles and cages, this place — was live!

She searched the crowd, her soft brown eyes had shifted into their crimson state. She was beyond talking. Anya was so angry she couldn’t even speak.

‘Anya, Anya!’ Royce tapped her arm vigorously, while her right arm stretched out and pointed towards the bar. And sure enough, Amadeo was being a little bit too touchy with that same brunette girl from social media. She stared at them, wondering if he’d feel her rage and look up but no… he seem too damn interested.

‘Fuck this.’ She uttered, ‘Let’s go to VIP.’

Pushing past people and fighting their way to get to the other side of the club, they had finally made it to the VIP section that overlooked the entire club. Here she knew she had bird’s eye view of everything. She just couldn’t wait til she got ahold of him.

After convincing promoter to put her section on Amadeo’s tab, she ordered bottle service. Even invited some other folks in other VIP sections to come join them as well. She knew all of this would cause a scene, grasp his attention the way she wanted.

It had finally hit 12am and to say that Anya was a little drunk was a understatement. She laughed at all the jokes men told her and damn near forgot the real reason why she was here. Until Bad Girls by M.I.A blared through the speaker, rattling any glass that was in the club.

She sung loudly with her friend, dancing as If they had no worries.

‘Damn. They’re loud aren’t they?’ The girl looked up, making a face at the group of people who seem to have been throwing a party of their own in VIP.

Amadeo pulled away from the girl, he looked up, his blue drunken eyes zooming in at the women who were dancing and dancing. And almost immediately their eyes had met. ‘Fuck.’ He cursed. Anya had thrown up her middle finger carelessly, making the statement fuck you.

‘Do you know them?’ The girl asked, standing up and placing her hand on his chest.

‘Yes. That’s my fiancé.’ Without further explanation, he started towards the stairs of the VIP section.

‘Oh! Oh! Girl he’s coming!’ The girls laughed as they high five one another. Anya was smooth with this kind of thing. She wasn’t just a pretty face, but intelligent as hell.

Once through, Amadeo angrily pushed through the dancing people in her section until he made it to her. Snatching her up by her arm, he pulled her away from the glass ledge that over looked everything. ‘What the fuck are you doing?!’

Anya snatched her arm away from him, ‘ME?! So you’re gonna act like you weren’t down there groping and kissing on another woman?! You’re gonna pretend that never happened?!’

‘Aw here we go!’

‘Yes here we fucking go! IM OVER HERE POSTING YOU ON MY SHIT, AND YOU GOT ME OUT HERE LOOKING FUCKING STUPID!’ She yelled, poking him in his forehead, trying her best to make it hurt. Amadeo growled and shoved her wrist away, ‘Keep your fucking hands off me, Anya.’

She really couldn’t pinpoint why she was so upset. Maybe because she had gotten comfortable with the idea of marrying him. She had fallen in love with him over the past week or so. They just seem to be best friends yesterday and now, he had spit in her face!

‘Or else what?!’ What she would give to slap him in the face right now. ‘How would you feel if I was on some random fucking dude, tongue kissing him on fucking LIVE INSTAGRAM WHILE YOU ARE HOME LOOKING FOR TUXEDOS AND SHIT?! HAVE YOU EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT HOW THAT SHIT WOULD MAKE ME FEEL?!’

‘I HAVEN’T THOUGHT ABOUT IT BECAUSE I DONT CARE ANYA!’

Her feelings were hurt. Tears had filled her eyes, anger coarse through her veins and her hands shook. ‘You know what?! FUCK YOU!’ Her voice cracked, as tears fell from her eyes. Swiftly, she turned around— walking through the crowd and walking downstairs towards the bar.

Amadeo’s heart sunk. He didn’t mean it… he was just drunk! And angry!

Once at the bar, she turned around, slightly dizzy from all of the movement, she pointed up at him, ‘YOU WANT TO FUCK WITH ME! EXPLAIN TO YOUR FATHER, WHY HE HAS TO REPLACE THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS WORTH OF LIQUOR!’

Her screaming had caught everyone’s attention, yet the music didn’t stop playing.

Amadeo looked over the ledge, ‘ANYA! I SWEAR TO GOD!’

‘WHAT?!’ Started pushing cocktail glasses off of the bar top. Picking some up and slamming them on the ground. Crushing others with her strong hands. ‘WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO AMADEO?!’ She screamed before lifting a empty stool. And right before she was going to toss it into the bar with intentions to destroy, he grabbed her arm once again.

He’d snatched the stool out of her hand and placed it down. ‘Alright. Enough of this shit.’ Venom and hatred so clear in his words. Quicker than lightning, he grabbed her thighs and threw her over his shoulder.

‘Let me go! Put me down, Amadeo!’ She sobbed angrily, punching at his back, kicking her feet as he effortlessly carried her upstairs towards his father’s office. ‘Get your fucking hands off of me! PUT ME DOWN!’ She demanded.

***

Once in his father’s office, he had slammed her on the sofa. ‘YOU SIT RIGHT THERE! AND YOU THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU’VE DONE!’ Amadeo yelled, pointing at her as he scolded her.

With her smeared make up, Anya quickly stood up, ‘Who the FUCK are you?! Talking to me like I’m some child! I ain’t your fucking kid!’ She walked over to him, ‘You have done this! This is ALL YOUR FAULT!’

‘MY FAULT?!’

‘YEAH ITS YOUR FAULT! ALL OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT AMADEO! HAD YOU NOT BEEN HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE, WE WOULDN’T EVEN BE ARGUING! I HATE YOU!’ And she shoved him hard in his chest. He stumbled back a little bit.

‘ANYA! Put your hands on me again!’ It was a threat.

‘FUCK YOU AMADEO!’ Anya shoved him one more time before she quickly brought her hand up and slapped it across his face, leaving a bright red hand print across his chiseled jaw. ‘YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST PLAY WITH MY FEELINGS! I HATE YOU,’ she beat and punched at his chest. ‘I HATE YOU!’ She repeated, sobbing so hard, her words were almost inaudible.

Finally, with the stinging at his cheek, he grew fed up with her shit and snatched up her wrists and slammed her against the wall. ‘ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!’ Letting go of one wrist, he wrapped the other one around her neck.

Anya whined as another tear fell in the previous one’s track, her lip quivered as she had seem to accept her fate. ‘Go ahead,’ she breathe with a slight hiccup, ‘Kill me… anything to pull me out of THIS EMOTIONAL HELL YOU’VE CREATED FOR ME!”

Amadeo’s grip grew a little bit tighter, this teeth clenched together and a frustrated grow left his chest. ‘URGH! GODDAMN YOU!’ He snatched away from her and turned his back away.

Her weakened legs crumbled beneath her and she fell to her hands and knees with a sob. She then looked up at him with wet eyes, ‘I love you… you just—‘ she choked up.

The male seem to have paused his thoughts. And swiftly turned around to look at her. His frustrated features softened and he approached her.

‘You just—‘ she hiccuped again as sat up on her knees, and sat down on her legs, ‘You make me… want to do better— be better. But you hurt me. I’m trying to give all of this a chance, you a chance but you just… don’t want me do you?’

‘Of course I want you, Anya!’ He argued as he squat down in front of her.

‘Then why act like this?! Embarrass me? Tell me you don’t care?! Do you know I came here tonight to purposely make a fool out of myself for you?!’ She gave his chest a light shove, not hard enough for him to even budge but he just grabbed her wrists.

‘Anya.’

She tried to tug away, ‘no.’ She muttered, shaking her head.

‘Anya, look at me.’ He paused until she looked up at him, ‘I’m sorry… look let me make this up to you. Let me take you home?’

Anya sniffed and wiped her nose with her wrist. ‘Why don’t you go home with that bitch downstairs? She’s probably waiting on ya anyway.’

‘Because I don’t care about her. Damn why you gotta be so fucking difficult?’

‘Would I be me if I wasn’t?’ She asked, glaring up at him with eyes that could kill.

‘I suppose not. Come on. Let’s go home.’ He grabbed her arm, pulling her up to her feet.

***

Amadeo looked down at her as she slept soundly; curled up against her pillow. His arms were folded across his chest. He then let out a gentle sigh before running his fingers through his thick hair. ‘Damn woman what am I going to do with you.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x black reader #au!henry cavill x black!female oc #au!henry cavill #henry cavill x plus size reader #henry cavill x black!plus size female oc #henry cavill x black!female reader #henry cavill x nicki minaj #Nicki Minaj

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lets-get-kraken-boys · 2 years

Note

I personally hope that reader end’s with kiribaku or shoto in the Purge.

Or all of them🫣

Can’t wait and see what happens.

Maybe i should read it again…

LMAO this practically became its own imagine. DAMN I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL.

Warning: Swearing

Enjoy. 🤗

It's an interesting idea that one or two of them could somehow manage to steal reader away for long enough that the Purge clock runs out, and (Y/N) becomes "theirs". I love KiriBaku, I think they're a great duo and could be one of the only teams that doesn't fall apart due to jealousy and hold their own until the Purge ends.

Kiri is so loving that, while there is a strong urge to keep you to himself, he loves Bakugo's company so much that sharing you suddenly becomes not that big of a deal. Hell, having his two most favorite people in the world by his side? Loving each other, spending time with each other, and being a true couple? His first love being his last? A love that can withstand any fight, or even the Purge?

When you put it like that, what could be more manly than that?! Protecting the love of his life with his sheer strength and will? He'd do it all over again in a heartbeat! Anything...for you~

Plus, though he's sort of ashamed to admit it because thinking of you this way is so unmanly...He is really excited to be able to share his firsts with you. He doesn't know if you've...ahem, done anything like that yet (he sure hopes you haven't. Not that its you're fault! Oh, honey, no! He'd just hate to be forced to hunt down that person and teach them a lesson for touching what's his), but he's a little more than giddy to learn everything about you.

Bakugo feels the same way, if not more, as Kirishima. He's absolutely against the entire idea when Kirishima brings it up. Hell no! It's hard enough that he wants to be the only one you ever even look at again, now rock-for-brains wants to share his firecracker??? In his eyes, he'd rather give a formal apology to Deku for everything he's done over the years than resort to sharing.

Funnily enough, as time wanes on, seeing you interact with the other classmates (who are head-over-heels for you like he is) grinds his gears more than it does seeing you hang out with Kiri.

For example, a few weeks ago you were helping Momo on her project that she practically begged your assistance for. You were sitting next to her as you two chatted, laughed, and cut out paper to glue or something dumb like that. He was fuming in his seat as he watched her grow heart eyes dopily gazing at you. You were just being sweet ol' you, helping a friend in need, but there's no way she didn't see it as so much more. He knew she saw it as an acceptance of her "undying" love for you. So annoying.

Right as he was about to intervene and scream in her face to get the fuck away from you, Kirishima walked up to the two of you. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, blushing up a storm as his eyes glanced from time-to-time at you. Bakugo's ears could only pick up a few words that came out of his mouth, something about "Totally unmanly of me...help me with this thing?"

You, being the perfect little people pleaser, joyfully nodded your head. You turned to ask Momo if she could finish the rest on her own so you could help Kiri with whatever he needed, and she reluctantly agreed. Her eyes burned with resentment as you and Kiri happily walked off together. But, before you two left the room, Kirishima looked back at Bakugo once you weren't looking at him. The not-so-dense boy gave his friend a knowing look, a tiny smirk, and waved his hand for the blond to follow.

That was the moment that Bakugo decided that sharing you with this Kirishima maybe wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Skipping forward in time a little. It’s the Purge now.

As great of a team they would be, I think Bakugo's hubris has a very high chance of getting the better of him. While I don't think Kiri would provoke this in Baku, someone else very well could. Him losing his cool would give the other person just enough time to swoop in and take them all over again.

Who knows, maybe that's where Shoto comes in. He could irk Bakugo, pokes the bear with a stick, feeds his ego; IDK, but something along the lines of making Bakugo frustrated. While getting frustrated normally ups a human's guard, I think it actually lowers Bakugo's. Like, he'll get so in his own head that he'll forget the objective (keeping you for themselves until the Purge is over), and focus on fighting Shoto. He's so prideful that, even when he's a Yandere, I think that protecting that image of himself may even come before you. Which is saying a lot, since a normal Yandere's #1 goal is to get you to love them like they love you and to have you be by their side forever. I think that window of time where Bakugo gets lost in his own emotions is the perfect time for Shoto to strike.

He could even be the distraction. Maybe he and someone else are working together, and whoever is working with Shoto takes you away. 🤔

Again, it would be awesome for all of them to end of with you. The constant tossing around between person and person is just too tasty to resist. 🤤

Oh, well. Just spitballing! So many fun ideas~!

With Love,

Kraken 🐙

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lepertamar · 7 months

Text

i've read stalking multiple times in the past couple years but only this last time i re-read it i just. WAIT GUYS HELLO WAIT WHAT. THIS WAS SITTING RIGHT THERE THE WHOLE TIME???? SINCE BEFORE THE REST OF THE SERIES WAS WRITTEN????? which is a reaction i’ve had multiple times rereading the series. anyway lmao. lol. lol lmao even! [major spoilers for the lives that argue for us under the cut]:

And [Safirah's] left arm is blackened. Well, it’s more like a reddish-brown, with a slight, flickering glow under the skin. But it’s burned, burned horribly—the skin twists and turns, and it’s easy to see how it wouldn’t be usable at all. Adding to that impression is the fact that Safirah doesn’t move it, not even for balance: it really was their price, then. …. Actually, as Tamar continues to look at it—she’s allowed to, she reminds herself, no one will even care or notice—she realizes that the twists on the skin are actually moving. There are patterns there, patterns of flames and not of flames at all; Tamar squints at it. She continues to watch Safirah’s arm as the debaters take their seats, trying to follow the patterns there. She’s becoming half-convinced that they mean something— …. So instead she focuses on Safirah’s face, trying to discern if there’s anything in the way they smile that hints at the power underneath them. The power that has burned them, changed them. She looks long and hard, finding her eyes drawn to Safirah’s. They seem hard, somehow. Like diamonds. …. God, the patterns of the burn really do seem to be moving—and wait, the glow… oh. The glow beneath their skin moves too, in a different way from the marks on the skin itself. In the glow also, Tamar swears she can see patterns, if only it would stop moving for a second. She wonders if they’re the same patterns as the ones on the skin. Do they complement each other? Do they mean something different? ...

—perhaps it’s not something consistent at all. Maybe it represents whatever God’s thinking about, right now, at this moment, or what if it’s even what God and Safirah are thinking, saying in reaction to each other…? Tamar puts a hand to her mouth in amazement.

BECAUSE IN LIVES…….written WAY LATER I KNOW….

There is an esoteric theory that a Holy’s price is not a manifestation only of God’s soul but also of the Holy’s, involuntary in much the same way as God’s manifestation upon Their name being spoken is. This theory is not yet proven, though it has some evidence in the different echoing patterns of each price left in dead Holies’ skeletons, understood as the imprint of each Holy in God’s soul. […] ...... Strangely [Tesena] thinks ae knows an answer, suspects it and walks around its edge like a blue flame in a chemistry lab—exactly like that. It is like a chemical reaction, and how ae combines with God is not how ae combines with Kjorel. But then—does that mean—is to be Holy itself also and always a chemical reaction, a combination—Teśena is shrugging his shoulders, not knowing, though digging as if in the sand of this thought with curiosity. And Kjorel is—reeling a different way than sensation itself makes him reel. He had never known, had never expected, that there could be this much left unknown about the world…

#this is such a feature of like. safirah's appearances actually. like their casual dropping that they'll still have a price after resurrect #stalking and the glory of god #sehhinah #the lives that argue for us #safirah

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 2 years

Note

Hello! Please could I make another request for Mitch and Louis with an S/O who loves to dance? Like she’s always dancing around in public even if there’s no music playing?

Also I just wanted to say thank you so much for doing my other requests it always cheers me up and then I’m bouncing off the walls with excitement lmao! I truly appreciate them your very talented <:) <<333

(Hey! Sure I can, I like doing some dances too, lmao. And no problem for making the others! I loves writing them, thanks for reading my stuff and requesting! Anyways, Enjoy!)

LOUIS AND MITCH X READER WHO LOVES TO DANCE

LOUIS

(I'm sorry but look at him go 😭 I love him sm seriously, the perfectest boy ever. Can you tell I love him?)

One thing if your dancing he's right there dancin' with you

It's a given

It's not full blown dancing, y'know those dances you have when you have energy to burn?

He's gonna be watching you do that

But like with full blown love

He doesn't care if it's in public

Fuck that

Doesn't care who's watching, who's around

His literal enemy could be around

But boy is immediately jumping out of his seat and joining you

Lifes too short to care what people think of you, especially after the world goes to shit

He has this little thing where he HAS to dip you

He doesn't know why

It may be the fact when everything was okay before the apocalypse

When his parents were still together and before their divorce and before he was shipped off to Ericson

His parents were like very in love, he could tell

That's a fact why he felt so guilty after what he had done to their marriage

Even from a young age

He would see his mom and dad dancing around like those people on TV

He also loved those movies where couples would be dancing anywhere, mainly in the rain

He always wanted that

And he would join in on his parents dancing when young

So to see you dancing around made him think that he has actually accomplished something

Something that he wanted since he was young, or something his parents had who were visibly in love

So yeah, he's dancing with you

Cause he shows his love, a very bubbly and affectionate boy

May crack a few jokes while dancing but never at your dancing or at you

Slow dance with him, especially if it's raining.

You have too

Won't forgive you if he asked and you don't

A grudge he will hold onto forever

Slow dancing is something he loves because he gets to hold you

It reminds him of what he has and that he has someone who loves him just as much

MITCH

(I love him sm. No words to describe my love.)

He didn't get why you danced

But hey, if you liked it you liked it

He secretly loved it though

He watches, like, everytime he sees you dancing

He's watching

Like a damn hawk

He won't up and join you in public

But alone?

Hell yeah

Someone might walk in on you both dancing like wild men but he won't care at that point

He'll probably dance with you, not slow dancing, he isn't that romantic like Louis

But he'll spin you, hell, he'll even dip you

He'll maybe even pick you up and spin you

It gives him some nostalgia

Before it all he had a little sister, he doesn't know what happened to her but before he loved her very fucking much

His sister watched shows where people danced

His family didn't have a lot of money, but his little sister was in dance class

His little was very close with him and adored him

They had an age gap, she was maybe 4-5 he was 10-11

His sister was in ballet

So he would help her practice

He would spin and pick her up

I think that's why he liked spinning you, like those small ones where you hold your S/O's hand over their head and spin them

It comforted him a little with some nostalgia

He also found it funny when you would just drag him into your dancing

He's just sitting there and yelps as you come in and drag him into it

Thinks your crazy sometimes

But eh, he loves you

So who cares

#twdg season 4 #twdg imagine #twdg x reader #twdg mitch x reader #mitch twdg #twdg mitch #twdg louis x reader #twdg louis #the walking dead game x reader

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friend-of-giants · 2 years

Note

From that prompt list you mentioned in the server, how about “ you’re so beautiful when you laugh. i wish i could see it more, but maybe it’s the rarity of it that makes it so captivating. ” or “ close your eyes. go back to sleep. nothing can hurt you while i’m here. ” for your choice of ship? :)

From the second I saw this ask, I knew exactly what I wanted to write. It's just taken me a while to get around to it, but here it is!

Prompt: "Close your eyes, go back to sleep. Nothing can hurt you while I'm here."

Word count: 1045

Tags: @cwahsont @vilkas @lookathooves @reachfolk @qah-naarin

A change from my usual, there's hardly any dialogue in this and it's mostly just introspection. What better time to reflect on the life you've been given than when you're sitting by a campfire under a perfect night sky?

(P.S. the position Teldryn is sleeping in is based on how I sleep, I've been told it's strange and looks uncomfy lmao but it isn't!)

A wolf howled somewhere off in the distance, a lonely soul searching for its pack, perhaps, or maybe a call to dinner. Masser and Secunda hung low in the sky as faint slivers of bronze, topped by roiling ribbons of a deep sapphire blue, verging on purple. No matter how many times the aurora graced the heavens, Wren never missed the chance to watch their dance. She thought them a gift from Azura, a display of appreciation from the Queen of the Night Sky.

Next to her, the campfire burned brightly, its light illuminating a small swath of still, tall grasses around them. The breeze was absent. There was no rustling of foliage, only the gentle crackle of their fire, the whispery breaths of their horses that lay nearby, and the occasional cry of animals as they went about their lives after dark. Beyond the light's reach was a void of blackish-gray, the only indication that she was on land at all being a distinct boundary on the horizon between the nothingness and a sky full of stars. She may as well be on a small island floating in the Void, as in that moment, nothing else in Tamriel mattered aside from her own little world lit up by the fire, and the busy night sky that lay above.

Wren turned her gaze to the bedroll opposite the fire, where Teldryn lay sprawled out on top of it on his side, one leg pulled up toward his chest while the other stretched out behind him. Both arms were curled around his face, as if he were shielding himself from an incoming punch. She grinned and puffed out a breath of silent amusement, what an odd position to find comfortable! In a few more hours she would have to wake him to take over the watch, though she hated to do so when he looked so peaceful. She was growing tired, and briefly considered pushing his arms aside and crawling in next to him to rest for a bit, but knew she would fall asleep or become too distracted to keep her ears tuned in for any approaching danger.

So she remained as she was, legs crossed beneath her with a soft smile on her face as she watched him sleep. A moth fluttered up from behind him where it had been hiding in the grass, catching her eye as it rose. It mingled with the sparks from the fire before the heat overwhelmed it, and the little creature dropped into the flames in a tiny puff of smoke. Wren let out a little chuckle at its demise, then felt a sudden sense of sympathy for it. The thought of meeting one's end after being drawn in by something so beautiful, so alluring and inescapable was a little unsettling.

The possibility remained that the same could happen to her. It had happened before; much like the moth, she had been attracted to an aspect of life so warm and bright, only she had been drenched in oil, in dragon's blood, which had hastened her own fall into the flames. It frightened her, knowing she was merely a plaything of the higher powers. They had cursed her with the blood and soul of a dragon, the very trait that caused her immeasurable pain and grief that she wouldn't wish on anyone. She hoped this time, as she began to find some comfort in life again, that it would not burn her to ashes, for it would be the last time she would let that happen.

A sharp jingle rang out through the still air, one of their horses shaking their head and rattling their halter. Wren merely shifted her gaze to the direction of the sound, but the noise roused Teldryn, who stretched out and groaned before opening his eyes.

"Everything alright?" At the sound of his groggy words, a smile began to work its way to her lips. He lifted his head from the ground and propped himself up onto an elbow, his eyes flicking across the darkened horizon beyond the firelight. "What was that?"

"Nothing, Tel. Just the horses."

"Are you sure?"

Wren nodded. "I'm sure. Probably just Dagon trying to get his halter off again, the little bastard."

"If you say so." He squinted at her, concern shadowing his face. "You tired? Want me to keep watch for a while?"

"Aye, I'm tired but I've got this. I'll wake you later." She scooted closer, grabbed at his hand and let their fingers intertwine, and his once stiff posture relaxed. "Now close your eyes, go back to sleep. Nothing can hurt you while I'm here."

"It's not me that I worry about, daelha," he whispered, giving her hand a firm squeeze. "You never know what's out there lurking."

"True, but I'll hear it coming before it has a chance. You can trust me." She ran her fingers across the handle of her axe which lay at her side, as if to be sure it was still there. "Quit worrying about me and get some sleep. We have a long ride ahead of us come sunrise."

Teldryn hummed agreeably and went back to his goofy sleeping position, though he kept one arm outstretched to keep her hand in his. Wren sat there, a smile etched onto her features as she watched the lights slither through the inky blackness above her like great celestial snakes.

No, nothing would bring them harm on this night, she could be certain of that. Any dangers would be sensed before they stepped into the firelight, and would be greeted with some choice words and a spike of ebony between their eyes. Wren had found happiness in her life once again, maybe even a purpose, something special that was worth defending. She would risk her life, and if needed, fight the Gods themselves to protect him, and she knew without a doubt that Teldryn would do the same for her.

Her fingers wrapped tighter around his, and he let out a sleepy grumble before giving a little squeeze back. She returned her gaze to the heavens again, smiling as widely as her lips would allow. A warm, dull ache grew in her cheeks. It hurt a little, but she let it burn.

#writing prompt asks #my writing #oc: wren #teldryn sero #this is one of the most mushy and shippy things ive written recently and i dont regret it #no i do not have a ship name for these 2 lol

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gaysimpsstuff · 3 years

Text

Accidentally Injuring Their Partner PT. 2

Part One Here

Y’all- the last one is like, my most popular post. As I’m currently writing this, it’s literally almost at 1K notes so... yeah. This one needed a lot of thought and effort if it’s going to meet people’s expectations.

Please read the note I added at the end of the fic

Genre: angst

Type: drabbleshot

Warnings: gore, mentions of hospitals, crying, cursing, toxic relationships, self blame, some real ‘who cares how I feel, how do you feel?’ kind of unhealthy vibes, hazbin hotel reference (found in Todoroki’s section), talking down on oneself,

Other: this was requested multiple times, but this bitch was planning it before it was requested haha I’m so cool no I’m not I still feel like shit lmao.

Angst Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore

Tomura Shigaraki

It was really all he could do to stare at you.

You’d moved from the theatre to an abandonment hospital, mostly to find any leftover supplies to help with your arm, or rather, lack thereof.

You’d only sort of expected this. Tomura lashing out at you, you getting hurt, you just didn’t expect it to result in you loosing a fucking arm.

Toga was helping to change your bandages, and Magne was speaking quietly with Twice, Spinner, and Compress.

Dabi was speaking with Shigaraki outside the room, and you couldn’t hear what they were saying. You were glad, you didn’t exactly want to hear his voice right now.

You didn’t think you were being that annoying, you thought you were just helping him. And you usually did. When he’d have his little tantrums, he’d get upset at you sure, but he’d never hurt you.

You knew you didn’t do anything differently than usual, maybe he was just more stressed than ordinary? Maybe you should’ve recognized that and altered yourself to fit accordingly.

Or maybe he’d just been horrible, and attacked you for no reason, and you had just been trying to help him.

You knew it was more likely the latter, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. People don’t just try to kill their partners that they love so much

The door slid open, and Dabi stepped in. He glanced around the room, waving his hand to usher Magne, Spinner, Twice, and Compress out of the room. Today stood up, but you grabbed her hand.

Dabi pushed the door open a little wider, and your boyfriend stepped inside. For once, you were glad he had that horrible hand in his face, you knew that if he took it off you’d probably vomit.

“Call us in if you need anything.” Dabi offered uncharacteristically, sliding the door shut behind him.

Everything was quiet.

Not even the people in the hallway wanted to say anything.

He slowly walked towards you, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

You sat cross-legged on the creaky hospital bed, staring at him as Toga held your hand.

“Why are you here?” You asked quietly.

“I- I um. Why is she here?” Tomura ignored your question, pointing to Toga next to you.

“She’s here because she chopped off my arm after you dusted it. She’s here because she saved my life. Why are you here, Tomura?”

One of his hands lifted to his neck, scratching lightly.

“Shit- I didn’t want anyone else in here-“

“Why not? Don’t want anyone to see you loose yourself and hurt me more? Don’t want anyone here to save me?” You snapped.

“You- you know I didn’t mean it-“

“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not, Shigaraki.” He flinched away when you spat out his last name like that. “I still got hurt. I lost a fucking arm because of you. How horrible are you that you have to cover up your own insecurities by trying to kill me? No really, I could have died.”

“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, nails digging deeper into his neck. “I love you, okay? And I promised I’d protect you so-“

“So you broke your promise in the worst way possible.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed, squeezing Toga’s hand before letting go. You walked up to Shigaraki, lifting your hand and gripping his shoulder tightly.

“I’m going.” You whispered. “I can’t be around you. I still have family outside the League, friends that aren’t villains. I can build myself a semi-normal life. I’ll be happy without you.” You turned back to Toga, offering her a smile. “You can come over whenever you want, you’re my friend.” You headed towards the door.

You paused when you heard a soft noise, like a gargled scream. You turned around, seeing Shigaraki shaking.

“No, no please no- don’t go!” He spun around, grabbing your shoulders. You shoved him off you in an instant, curling into yourself

“GET OFF ME!” You screamed. But he was already launching himself at you again, you saw his palm flying towards your face. This time, it wasn’t an accident.

And you knew you wouldn’t make it out this time.

You were pulled back by a strong force, realizing Magne was holding you tight. Compress and Dabi were on either side of Shigaraki, holding him back, while Twice had ran to Toga.

“No! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please don’t leave me!” He screamed, the hand fell loose on his face, tumbling down to the floor. You turned away, not wanting to see him.

You could only imagine his expression.

“Goodbye, Shigaraki.” You whispered, ducking out of Magne’s grip and rubbing off.

“Goodbye.”

Touya Todoroki/ Dabi

It had been a week since he’d seen you, a week since he’d felt your hands on his. A week since he’d heard your voice. A week since he’d seen your smile.

A week since he’d burned you.

Called you inferior.

Threatened to kill you.

Well there was certainly a reason why he hadn’t gone to see you since the incident.

But...

He missed you.

He felt so guilty, knowing what he’d said and done to you, and he needed to see you.

Maybe he was just being selfish.

Maybe he knew he’d done something wrong.

Maybe he needed to call you.

He flipped his phone upside down, then right side up again on the counter of the bar.

Toga sat on a stool next to him, tapping her hands against the marble in boredom.

“So... what’s up with you?” She asked, cocking her head and glancing at him.

“Like I’m telling a brat like you.” He growled, flipping his phone over again.

“You’ve been off all week!” She exclaimed, leaning towards him. “Somethings happened to you.”

“If i tells you a little, will you shut up?”

“Mhm mhm!”

“Ughhhhh fine. I had a fight with someone close to me. I... I really hurt them. I know it. I haven’t spoken to them in a week.”

“So... Dabi has a soft spot?”

“That’s not the point of this. Also say that again and I’ll kill you.”

“Oookay then. You should just call them. Say something to them and apologize.” She offered with a shrug.

Dabi sighed, pressing his face into his hands.

“They don’t want to talk to me. Trust me on that.”

“Welp- that’s just my advice. Cent for my thoughts kind of thing except you didn’t pay me. You owe me a penny.”

Toga shrugged, hopping off the chair and leaving the room.

“Don’t owe you shit.” Dabi grumbled, glowering down at his phone again. He pulled up your contact, staring at the picture he’d set for you.

You had a bright smile, emoji hearts decorating your cheeks. It was from your first ‘date.’ When you’d hung out at your place after he broke in looking for shelter and food.

You’d taken care of him, let his spend the night, and even offered to let him stay whenever he needed to.

You were an Angel on earth.

And he’d burnt you.

Called you dirty.

And selfish.

You were anything but.

Ring

“Why the hell are you calling me?”

“I-“

“Dabi. Why are you calling me? You hate me, don’t you?”

“I don’t hate you...”

“Jeez, coulda fooled me.”

“Baby...”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I- I didn’t mean it.” He choked out. “Everything I said, I didn’t mean it. And I-“

“I really don’t care. The doctors said my arms would scar. I’m burnt and scarred like you. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to achieve? Make me like you so that no one would want me? So that only you could have me?”

Yes

“No! I never wanted to hurt you, ba- Y/n please,”

“Please what? Please what, Dabi? What do you want from me? Huh? You want me to cradle you and say is all going to be okay? You want me to kiss your scars and tell you you’re beautiful? You want me to suck your dick and tell you I love you? After everything you’ve put me through?”

“I-“

“It’s not just you burning me. You’ve left me for days without contact, and then showed up like nothing’s happened! You’ve hit me and then groveled and cried for my mercy! You’ve made me do so much shit for you in bed that I never wanted to do! Our entire relationship, I was scared you’d get sick of me and kill me!”

“You really thought that?”

“Well guess what motherfucker? You can’t come after me! I’ve told the police what happened. Everything between us. They’re helping me move across the country. You’ll never see me again. Happy?”

“No. No no I’m not happy why would I be happy? You made me happy, when I didn’t even know what the word meant, you don’t have to go through with this, please don’t go through with this!”

“Don’t flatter me. I never made you happy. Nothing could make you happy except watching the world burn. I don’t make you happy, Dabi-“

“Yes you do!”

“Just shut up. I’m going to hang up. If I’m being honest... I’ll miss you. You made me happy. But with so much anger and fear surrounding you, it’s hard to even remember the last time we were happy together.”

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Beep

You were gone.

Shouto Todoroki

If you thought Shouto was quiet before, you should see him now, wait, you were seeing him now, in class, eyes boring into your spine.

You still had a large bandage on your face, being hit in the face with plus added fire power is bound to leave a mark that lasts for over three days.

Did I mention it had been three days now?

It’s very hard to ignore Shouto, seeing as you were in the same class and lived in the same dorms.

Plus everyone in class wanted to know what happened between the two of you, why Shouto seemed so down, why you had the bandage on your face, and if it was all connected.

You’d only told one person what had gone down between the two of you, and that was Bakugou.

Which maybe was a mistake, because he took to trying to fight Todoroki every time he saw him, and repeatedly told you that he ‘fuckin knew that icy-hot bastard was a good-for-nothing bag of of poorly packaged horse shit.’

You appreciated his comfort, but it hurt you every time he said something about Todoroki.

“I don’t get why you’re defending the scumbag. His hand hasn’t even healed off your face yet!”

You and Bakugou were heading to the dorms after class, and he had gone on his usual tangent about how Todoroki did this, Todoroki did that, Todoroki was an asshole, etc etc.

“I mean... he’s technically still my boyfriend. And he’s been nothing but kind to me up until this point. He just... he was stressed, and I was being a bother. I’m sure the injury will fade at some point, then he’ll talk to me again and we can get back to normal.” you shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck. “We’ll be fine.”

“You know what you are? A pushover.” Bakugou glared at you.

“Wha- I am not! Where did you get that idea?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe from the fact that You forget to check in with how you feel and keep thinking only about that Half n Half bastard! ‘Oh, he must be so upset with himself!’ Fuck that! How do you feel?”

You kept your eyes on the ground, speeding up. Bakugou grabbed your sleeve, tugging you backwards. His hands found your shoulders, thumbs rubbing soft circles. Your breath hitched, did Shouto ever do this for you?

Not that you could remember.

“I feel... nervous.” you admitted. “I’m nervous that he meant what he said to me. That I’m nothing but a bother to him. I’m nervous that he’ll never come and talk to me, never apologize. I’m worried that if he does talk to me, he’ll think it was my fault. It wasn’t was it?”

You looked up at Bakugou warily, and squeaked when he tightened his grip on your shoulders.

“The fuck? Of course it��s not! Idiot.” he poked your forehead, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Keep talking.”

“Um... I’m...” you took a deep breath. “I’m angry. I’m angry that he hasn’t talked to me. I’m angry about what he said. I’m angry that he even hit me to begin with. If we were training, of course it’d be different, but we weren’t training. And he hurt me. And now I’m doubting everything between us.”

Bakugou was silent, Cardinal eyes met yours. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and for a moment, you feared Bakugou would try to blow your ass up for being a pathetic little weakling.

I mean... compared to people like Todoroki and Bakugou, you were right?

Bakugou took a step forward, pulling you into his arms. You held your breath, wondering if he was going to finally snap and kill you.

But... it felt nice.

You lifted your arms, wrapping them around his body and tugging him a little closer. You buried your face into his uniform shirt, body shaking a little as you cried.

You almost wanted to scream, but then the school would panic.

So you just cried, sobbing into his arms and letting him hold you. His embrace was war and comforting, nothing like you’d felt from your so-called boyfriend.

Maybe he was right, maybe you really shouldn’t try to think about him.

You did deserve better.

You sniffled, pulling off Bakugou with a soft smile.

“Thanks, Bakugou. I really needed that. And you’re right.”

“What was that second thing?”

“You’re right.”

“Hmmm?” Bakugou cupped a hand around his ear, feigning deafness.

“Oh my goodness- I said you’re right!”

“That’s it.” he patted you on the shoulder, proud smirk traced across his features. You chuckled. “Now you’re going to tell that to Mr. Daddy Issues and get the fuck over him.”

“Alright, but you’re coming with me!” he nodded, keeping his hand on your shoulder as you returned to the dorms, heading to his dorm.

You paused just outside his door, knocking lightly. Bakugou was a few feet behind you, out of the way, but close enough to step in if something were to happen.

The door swung open slowly, revealing a bored-looking Todoroki. WHen his eyes landed on you, he jumped a little, taking a step back. His hand tightened around the doorknob, his other hand gripping his pants

“Y-Y/n-“ he stuttered, eyes flickering between you and Bakugou. “I-“

“We need to talk.”

“Listen I- I’m sorry!” He exclaimed.

“Todoroki, I don’t think you get it. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it. You might have scarred me, so your one mistake might stay with me my whole life!”

“I know.” His head drooped, and his grip on his pants loosened. “I know. I’m- I’m just like him.”

“Him?”

“I promised I was nothing like him but here we fucking are!”

“Shoto what are you talking about?”

“I’m the worst kind of person!”

“No!”

Shouto looked up, eyes brimming with tears. You took a few steps forward, taking his face into your hands.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered “it was an accident, and you didn’t mean it. Please don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Bakugou grabbed you, yanking you away from him

“Uh, what the fuck? You came here to sever ties with him, not fucking comfort him!”

“Look at him, Bakugou. He needs me.”

“Y/n-“

“Trust me.” You smiled at Bakugou, pushing him away from you slowly before turning back to Shouto. You took the boy into your arms, rocking back and forth with him.

You ignored the heavy feeling in your chest, and the screams your brain slew ar you to get off of him, get away from him, and let Bakugou protect you.

You ignored logic, emotion, and all better judgement.

For this boy who’d hit you.

But Bakugou would end up being right, he was smart.

You’ll see.

Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight

Shit wrong Pomeranian

That’s better

Katsuki stood outside Recovery Girl’s room, waiting for Kirishima to come out and tell him what was going on.

He was chewing on his nails, foot tapping against the ground as he stared at the door. He could hear people moving around and talking inside.

He couldn’t get the sound of your screaming out of his head, the large dark patch that formed on your skin around your face, the way you just... fell.

The door slid open, and Bakugou stared forward and Kirishima stepped out, smiling and thanking Recovery Girl.

Bakugou was on his feet in an instant, grabbing Kirishima’s arm.

“How are they? Do they hate me? Can I see them?” He rambled, Kirishima gently pushing Bakugou off him.

“Uh, they’re fine for the most part, they haven’t said anything about you at all, and ask Recovery Girl.” He said, backing off down the hall as Bakugou stared helplessly after him.

“You uh- you might want to apologize. They are really upset.” Kirishima told him, quickly running off down the hall. Bakugou faced towards the room, stepping inside.

A cyan curtain blocked him from seeing you, and he heard shuffling behind it. It slid open, Recovery Girl stepping out. She looked up and saw Bakugou.

She wacked his leg with her needle/cane, and he yelped, stumbling backwards.

“You have no shame!” she snapped. “With what you did to them, you should be cowering outside right now!”

“Shhh!” Bakugou pressed up against the wall. “Do you want them to know I’m here?”

“Are you that clueless?” she grumbled, pulling herself up into her chair. “They’ve gone temporarily deaf.” Bakugou froze, glancing back at the curtain.

He’d blown up your eardrums.

He felt Recovery Girl press something into his hands, and he glanced down.

It was a small whiteboard, with a pen and washcloth.

This was how he’d have to talk to you.

On a fucking whiteboard.

RG pulled the curtains aside, revealing you.

You were laying in the bed, half your face wrapped up in bandages, hands resting on your lap.

“Y/n...” he murmured. You remained still, staring out the window. Bakugou cleared his throat, and you still didn’t react.

“They can’t hear you, remember?” RG shook her head, waddling over to the other side of your bed, pointing at Bakugou. He watched your face slowly turn, before his eyes shot away from you, staring at the ground.

He heard you swallow, and you let out a soft whimper.

Were you scared of him?

Bakugou lifted the whiteboard, quickly scribbling some kanji on it

ごめんなさい (Translation: I am sorry)

You reached forward, taking the whiteboard from him and erasing his words, putting your own down instead.

分かってる。(Translation: I know)

Bakugou pursed his lips, fidgeting with his shirt before he watched you put more writing down

どうして？(Translation: Why?)

Bakugou reached out, taking the whiteboard back, quickly putting down his excuse explanation

私は弱いと感じました。じゃあ霧島を助けてくれたんだ。うらやましくなってきた (Translation: I felt weak. Then you helped Kirishima. I got Jealous)

お許しください (Translation: Please forgive me.)

He handed you the whiteboard back, tapping his foot against the ground. You passed it back to him, and he hurridly read your response.

私はそれについて考えます (Translation: I’ll think about it.)

He had a chance. His eyes finally lifted off the whiteboard, landing on you.

The visible part of your face looked exactly the same, although there was a large bandage on your ear. Your eye looked sad, fearful, and nervous. You had a shaky smile on your face, trying to make him feel better.

You were always thinking about him.

それは再び起こらないだろう (Translation: It won’t happen again)

You sighed, smile falling.

本気？(Translation: Are you sure?)

Bakugou felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Well of fucking course you didn’t trust him, look what he’d done to you!

おっしゃる通りです。. もうお前を放っておいてやるさようなら、y/n。(Translation: You are right. I will leave you alone now. Goodbye, y/n.)

He stood up, leaving the whiteboard on your bed. He headed towards the door, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He ignored the soft cry of your voice, surprised he was leaving.

He ignored the way you managed to choke out his name in a warbly, unsure voice.

He slid the door shut behind him, slumping against it and sliding down until he sat on the cold ground. He buried his face into his arms, finally allowing himself to cry.

He wasn’t going to try and talk to you, he resolved. He wasn’t going to bother you or scare you.

He’d keep you safe by refusing to talk to him.

He’d let the author end the fanfiction right then and there.

The door slid open behind him, and he flopped backwards, staring up at your face. You were holding the whiteboard.

オマンコにならないでください。事故だったのは分かってる頑張って俺を捕まえるのか諦めるのか? どんなヒーローがあきらめるだろうか？

(Translation: Don't be a pussy. I know it was an accident. Are you going to work hard and get me or give up? What kind of hero would just give up?)

A smirk slowly spread across his face. Yeah, he’d work hard. He’d never scare you or hurt you again. He’d do better.

He’d be the best boyfriend.

And he’d accept your help to stand up next to you.

=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=

After fic note: ohmygod I’m finally finished. This took fucking forever. You loved part one so much, I had to make sure part two was perfect.

Some of these ended in heartbreak

Another ended in a questionable descision

The last ended happily

All of them are different!

I hope you get my references, and appreciate the Japanese Kanji I put in Bakugou’s part (if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can try my best to fix it. I don’t speak or write Japanese, I used this translator to get what I needed).

I worked hard on this, so if y’all could tell me what you like and dislike about this so I can improve my writing, that would be lovely. Don’t be afraid to pop a comment or pop into my ask box, I do my best to respond to every comment and ask, so don’t worry about being ignored.

I love all of you, and I’m so glad to be able to write for you.

Thanks for all of your support, I promise I’ll work hard on all of my drafts to make sure you get entertainment constantly!

5K notes · View notes

dr3amofagame · 3 years

Text

uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like.

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not.

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs.

Dream leaves.

It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore.

None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature.

Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.”

Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?”

“If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?”

Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.”

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information.

Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns.

“From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.”

Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

“He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.”

“He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.”

Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern.

“Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?”

Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense.

“Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

---

Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream.

“Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff.

“Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.”

“O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him.

“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod.

“There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.”

Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place.

“We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head.

“I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.”

“Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?”

Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.”

“Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?”

Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

“He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.”

Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?”

Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table.

“You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut.

“The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

“But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?”

“He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.”

“But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

“There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.”

Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh.

“I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.”

---

They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

(She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange.

“Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back.

“You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?”

Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh.

“You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head.

“Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him.

“...these are going to take so long to clean out.”

To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

“Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head.

“They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “

He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes.

“You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done.

“The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.”

Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.”

Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.”

Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

“Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

“-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.”

“When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.”

“We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.”

“Alright, then. Here’s the plan.”

---

It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis.

“Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.”

“Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin.

“Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back.

“You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider.

“Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier.

“You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.”

Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?”

Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now.

Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass.

(Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later.

“I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened?

Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.”

“I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.”

“Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat.

“Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped.

“Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

“He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light.

“Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

“I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?”

“You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them.

“We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.”

They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava.

“Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him.

“Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident.

“You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs.

“Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.”

Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

“Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

Oh fuck.

“Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.”

As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor.

Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?”

She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava.

“There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

“You there, Dream?”

She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

“Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath.

“Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.”

“I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

“And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-”

“They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

“And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.”

“You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.”

“Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-”

“I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.”

“Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-”

“Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?”

Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.”

“You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.”

“Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye.

“Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

“Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose.

“Niki, give us some fire res please?”

She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.”

She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep.

“Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend.

But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

#tw torture #tw abuse #tw self harm #tw disordered eating #tw ed #tw sh #prison arc #pandora's vault #tw starvation #c!sam critical #c!quackity critical #my writing :D #> my writing

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Deep End - Six

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.6K

A/n: Okie dokie! I’ve got an epilogue planned but I like this. The epilogue will explain shit better but I've known that this would be the end since pretty much the beginning LMAO

Deep End Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

When Steve hears you stop struggling, stop fighting and stop crying, he’s nervous.

It’s been a while since he locked you up there, and he really should check on you soon, if only to make sure the baby’s okay after that stunt you pulled.

He pushes the door to the bedroom open, eyeing your figure carefully.

You look like you’re asleep. If he wasn't so attuned to your body, your heart and your breathing, he wouldn’t have noticed something’s wrong.

Your heart is beating rapidly, far faster than normal. And it’s weaker than usual.

Your breathing is shallow and strained, and your face is lacking its usual healthy glow.

He rushes to your side, tearing the rope from your wrists and touching your face carefully.

Your skin is hot to the touch, and he feels fear settle in his gut.

He doesn’t know what to do, how to help. He’s never really had to help you like this, the doctor’s always been nearby.

He grabs his phone, calling the doctor and pacing nervously.

“Sh-she’s burning up and her breathing is shallow.”

Steve's stomach drops as he listens to the doctor’s instructions, answers his questions and comes to the realization of why you’re like this.

He rolls you onto your left side, tears welling up in his eyes at how unresponsive you are.

The doctor hangs up after telling the super soldier that he’ll be there soon.

His heart is in his throat as he tries to undo the damage of his punishment, putting the evidence back in the box and kicking the rope under the bed.

You’re still unresponsive, heart weak, but your breath sounds a little less strained.

Monster. That’s what you called him. What Natasha called him and what Bucky’s asset called him.

Maybe you’re right.

But he wants you. He needs you. Giving you up would be giving up a piece of his soul and he’s not ready to do that yet.

~*~

The doctor informs him that both you and the baby are okay, but being on your back for so long was compressing a major vein supplying your baby with oxygenated blood. If he’d gotten there any later it might’ve been too late.

With strict instructions to keep you on your left side and make sure you stay hydrated, the doctor takes his leave.

He stays by your side, holding your hand tightly in both of his as he really comes to terms with the fact that it was entirely his fault. He almost killed you and your baby to prove a stupid point. To discourage you from doing the very same thing.

His heart is heavy in his chest as he listens to your heartbeat get stronger, to the baby’s heartbeat continue fluttering like a hummingbird’s.

Those two sounds bring him peace, if only temporarily.

Shattering his peace is the sound of the front door opening, followed by tiny little footsteps clomping up the stairs.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Sarah.

Steve shoves himself to his feet and quickly leaves the room just as his daughter tries to enter.

“Sarah, mommy’s sleeping.” She frowns up at him and shakes her little blonde head.

“I need to talk to mommy!”

She walks around his legs only for him to scoop her up in his arms.

“She’s sleeping right now, honey.”

Sarah shakes her head angrily, beating her tiny fists against his shoulders.

“Let me go! I want mommy! Mommy!! Put me down!” She starts shrieking. Full-on screaming bloody murder right in his ear, and he loses his grip on the wriggling child.

She slides out of his arms and runs into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and shaking your shoulder.

“Mommy?” She’s got little tears on her face, and they don’t cease when you don’t wake up.

“Why won’t mommy wake up?!” She looks up at Steve with terror written on her face and it shatters his heart in his chest.

“Sarah, mommy’s sick, okay? I had the doctor come over and he said that she needs to rest and when she wakes up we’re gonna need to make sure she’s got plenty of water, okay?”

Sarah’s big blue eyes are filled with tears and she shakes her head.

“I want mommy!”

She clings to your torso, crying against your shoulder in fear.

“Sarah, honey, mommy’s gonna be okay. You just gotta give her some space, okay? How about I set up a movie for you?” Sarah sniffles and slowly pulls away from you, looking at her father and shaking her head again.

“I want mommy! I hate you!”

Steve then realizes just how crucial you are. How important you are, not only to him but to his daughter as well.

Losing you would hurt so many people.

“Honey, you gotta give mommy and I some space, okay?”

He picks up the five-year-old, despite her quite literally kicking and screaming, and sets her down outside the bedroom.

He shuts the door quickly and locks it even faster.

Sarah stands outside, wailing her head off and pounding on the door with her tiny little fists.

She cries for you, over and over again, and it breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s brought back to what you said about him. About how this isn’t love.

He sits down at your side again, trying desperately to drown out the sound of his daughter crying outside as his thoughts overwhelm him.

He hasn’t been the nicest to you, that he’ll openly admit, and he makes mistakes probably more often than he doesn’t. But he loves you. He needs you.

Tears well up in his eyes and he lets out a shuddering breath.

He’ll make this right. He has to. Sarah deserves a mother, so does your unborn baby. And -though he may not deserve you- he needs you. The monster will be hard to fight, but losing you will be harder.

The damage he’s done might be irreversible, but he’s gonna do what he can to make things right, to give you a better life.

You don’t wake up for a few hours, but when you do you’re confused.

Your back aches and you feel a little dizzy as you remember what happened, how you got here.

Steve watches as you regain consciousness, confusion pulling your brows together before you slowly open your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

You look up at him then drop your gaze to your belly, bringing your free hand down to rub it gently.

“Am I... are we okay?” He nods gently, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I was... I don’t know, trying to teach you a lesson. And all that did was hurt you. Hurt the baby. I wanted to show you that trying to hurt yourself and hurt the baby wouldn’t fly, but I ended up doing far more damage.”

You swallow hard and struggle to push yourself into a seated position, wincing at the throb in your head.

“The doctor said that you shouldn’t move too much, and try to stay on your left side when you sleep. I-I didn't know that sleeping on your back was bad.”

You take a deep breath and look up at him, waiting for the anger to take hold in his eyes but it never does.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. For scaring you and not trusting you. I... I lost you for so many years and now I have you back and... I don’t wanna lose you again. But everything I do to try and keep you close, make you mine... all it does is push you further away and I’m sorry.”

His apology takes you by surprise, and you eye him skeptically.

How are you supposed to know if he’s telling the truth?

He drags one of his hands down his face and for a moment you can truly see just how old Steve Rogers is.

The exhaustion of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders finally shows in the lines near his eyes, the bags beneath them. But what really displays his age is his eyes. They’re so full of trauma and pain and weariness.

For the first time since waking up from the ice, Steve Rogers looks his age.

“I-I’m sorry, too,” you whisper, surprising him.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I wanted to punish you for what happened to Natasha. What you did. I wanted you to hurt but I just ended up hurting myself in the process.” You look down at your hands, trying to figure out how you want to phrase what you have to say.

“People argue, Steve. But what you do... it’s beyond that. We’re not... there are so many things wrong with what’s happening between us, what’s happened already, but I can’t leave. Sarah’s too attached and all I want for my little girl is to have a happy life. To have the happiness that was torn from me.”

Guilt settles on his chest, but he lets you continue speaking.

“I want my daughter to have a good life. I don’t want her to be afraid of-of people. The way I am. She loves you, and I know... I think you love her. You haven’t hurt her yet, and I hope it stays that way because at the rate we’re going, I'm not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this.”

The pure fatigue on your face is more than enough explanation, but the idea of losing you is too much for him to bear.

“No, don’t say that. I’m gonna get better, okay? We-we were happy once. And we can do it again. I’ll be gentle and patient. I just... I need you, (Y/n). I need you a lot and the fact that you have such a tight hold over my every thought makes me angry. But I’m not gonna take it out on you anymore, okay?”

You let out a deep breath and eye him carefully.

“You’ve said that before.”

He thinks back to the time you spent in that cabin in the woods, where you turned his friends against him.

He has said that before, and look at where he is now.

“This time it’ll be different.”

You don’t have the energy to fight him. So if he’s gonna try, fine.

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, hoping she’s still safely out with Morgan.

Steve’s face falls again and he stands up and opens the door to your bedroom.

Sarah sits crumpled in a ball, her cheeks covered in tears.

“Mommy!” She all but screams the word, launching to her feet.

Steve tries to take her hand but she yanks it away from him, shooting him a glare then running to the bed and climbing up beside you.

Your heart breaks when you see how sad she looks, and you hug her to your chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.” She sniffles and climbs onto your lap, climbing to you like her life depends on it.

You wonder what happened while you were unconscious, what Steve did to upset her so much, and your mind immediately goes to the worst.

You look at the man, your thoughts written plainly across your face, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No. I just told her she couldn’t come in. Not ‘till you woke up. She uh... she stayed right outside the door.”

You soothe your daughter, rocking her as much as you can manage with the pain rolling down your spine.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You hold her close to you, trying to calm her down while Steve looks on helplessly.

Although his daughter loves him, loves being here with him, nothing can compare to the bond that the two of you have.

The monster in him hates it. Hates that he’s not as close to his own daughter, blames you for it. But he pushes that part of himself down.

He made a promise. And this time he’s not gonna break it.

"Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He asks for the thousandth time.

You only shrug, fixing your hair in the mirror as the doorbell rings.

“It’s a little too late now, Steve. Besides, I don’t really care. Sarah’s gonna have fun and that’s all that matters.”

Your daughter took a few days to warm up to Steve again, but now that she has he’s not gonna risk anything changing that.

He takes one last look at you, at how pretty you look in your blue sundress, then leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“I love you, (Y/n). I can send them away.”

You take a deep breath and shake your head.

“Sarah’s excited. Besides, I wanna know what we’re having.”

You plaster on a forced smile and it breaks his heart, but he turns and heads downstairs to greet the guests.

Ever since you got hurt, he’s been nicer. Far gentler than he's ever been with you, and you’re not complaining.

Steve has the potential to be a good person, that much is obvious, but he chooses not to.

He hasn’t hurt you again, or even yelled at you. No, he’s been patient and understanding and it’s such a sharp contrast from who he was before.

You can hear him greeting the guests warmly, chatting on and on about this and that and whatever else.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you leave the faux safety of the bedroom and head down the stairs, smiling at your guests.

People that you’ve never seen before are in your house. Well, that’s not true. You’ve seen them on TV.

The Avengers are in your living room and kitchen, talking softly amongst themselves.

In the presence of these superheroes, you feel small. Weak. And you can’t fight the urge to find Steve as anxiety crawls up your spine.

He’s in the kitchen, talking animatedly with Tony Stark and Sam Wilson. Iron Man and Falcon.

He looks so at ease, his face split open with a laidback grin.

Sam’s eyes find yours and he says something to Steve, making the blond turn to you with a soft smile.

He waves you over and you obey, one hand resting delicately on your bump.

“Sam, Tony, this is my (Y/n). (Y/n), Sam and Tony.” You nod politely at them, sliding your clammy hand into Steve's nervously.

You haven’t been around this many people in a very long time.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman who’s got Captain America so hooked! All he does is talk about you,” Sam says, a grin on his face.

You smile at him, looking up at Steve.

He nods encouragingly, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles to try and ease your anxiety.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I, uh, I’ve heard a lot about you. About both of you.” Tony smiles looking down as someone tugs on his pant leg.

“Can I have a sleepover at Sarah’s house?!” Morgan asks excitedly, her little face full of glee.

“You’re gonna need to go ask your mother. You know she makes all the decisions.”

Tony’s gaze lifts to yours when his daughter runs to find her mom.

“Is it alright if she sleeps over tonight?”

Steve nods then looks at you.

“You alright with that?”

You’re not sure if it’s a real choice or a test, but you don’t want to find out.

“Of course. She’s always welcome here.”

Tony nods with a smile, then resumes whatever conversation they were having before you showed up.

You tune out what they’re saying, carefully rubbing over your stomach and poking at your baby whenever they decide to kick you.

“(Y/n)? Did you wanna help me set the food up outside?” Pepper’s voice breaks you from your trance, her hand coming to rest softly on your shoulder.

You look up at Steve, silently asking for permission, but he just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips and lets go of your hand.

You follow Pepper, setting up the table in the backyard silently for a while before she clears her throat.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)? Sarah told us you were sick.”

You swallow hard and give her a tight smile.

“I’m feeling better. Tired all the time but this little devil is to blame for that.” You poke your belly only to be met with another kick.

Pepper nods, smiling at you.

“Are you excited?”

That question throws you for a loop.

Are you? Are you excited to have another baby?

You’re excited for Sarah to have a sibling. Excited to get to hold your baby and love your baby. But the reason why you’re having the baby in the first place? The father of your baby? No.

“Yeah, I am. A little nervous, too.”

She sits down by your garden, patting the seat next to her.

“You look tired, (Y/n). More tired than a mother should be. You’re wearing yourself thin.” You keep your lips sealed, not wanting to say anything that might make Steve mad.

She sighs and sets a gentle hand on your knee.

“I don’t know what your... relationship is with Steve, but I know you’re unhappy. He’s a good guy, deep down. But you need to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t work yourself to the breaking point because it’ll be even harder to build yourself back up. Especially with a brand new baby.”

You let out a shuddering breath and nod.

“It’s just hard. I’m trying but... it’s hard.”

As you talk softly with Pepper, Steve observes the two of you.

You look so sad, so defeated. He hates that he made you look like that.

“She’s unhappy, Steve.”

He turns to the voice, eyebrows raising.

“Wanda. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” He pulls her into a hug. “I heard about what happened in Westview... Wanda, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She sighs, pulling away with a sad smile.

“No. But I will be.” Her eyes travel back over to you for a moment, feeling the pain and the sorrow in your soul.

“Do you think she’ll ever be happy here? With me?” Wanda sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, feeling your thoughts, your energy.

“It’s hard to tell. Right now she’s so... numb. Nothing but sadness and... hopelessness. Her spirit is crushed, Steve.” She reopens her eyes and turns to the blond.

“You can’t keep her here like this. It’s only a matter of time before she gets fed up and tries to do something drastic. Again.”

Steve knows. He fucking knows that. But he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to lift your spirits.

He's given you more freedom, let you make more decisions for yourself. He’s been gentler with you, hasn't forced himself on you.

Not forcing himself on you isn’t something to gloat about, but given the history between the two of you, it’s something fairly major.

He just wants to keep you in his life. He needs to keep you in his life.

He turns to the young woman beside him, a thought bubbling into his mind.

“Could you... do something to make her happy? Make her enjoy her life here? Make her love me again?”

Wanda’s mouth curves down as she looks at you, watches you play with your daughter and Morgan.

“Steve, it’s not right.”

The blond lets out a pained breath, shaking his head desperately.

“I just want happiness, Wanda. Don’t I deserve it? Haven’t I suffered enough to deserve a happy ending?”

Wanda’s eyes glow red with sorrow as she’s reminded of her own happy ending that she had to give up.

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, dropping her gaze for a moment before looking over at his desperate blue eyes.

“We don’t always get what we deserve. It’s hard and it hurts, but we can't control everything. And at some point, we need to let go. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. We can’t hurt other people because of what we think we deserve.”

They both look back over to you, your own eyes already on the pair, but dropping as soon as you see them turn to you.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do that.”

Tears stab at his eyes and he huffs out a breath through his nose, turning on his heel and walking away from the party, from his friends.

His abrupt departure catches the attention of a few people, yourself included. Before you can get up and see what’s going on, Bucky’s on his feet and heading into the house.

The woman Steve was talking to makes her way over to you, smiling gently.

“Hi (Y/n). I’m Wanda.” You smile at her, eyes darting towards where Steve disappeared from then back to her.

Bucky re-emerges only a few moments later, shaking his head at Natasha when she gives him a quizzical look.

You turn to Wanda with a strained smile.

“Could you just watch Sarah for a minute? And make sure she has something to eat? The foods ready.” She nods, watching with sad eyes as you walk back into the house to see what’s wrong with Steve.

“Steve?” You call softly, looking around for him only to find him sitting on the couch in the living room, his face in his hands.

“Why can’t I have what I want?” His question catches you off guard and you move to stand in front of him.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling his hands off of his face to grab yours, holding them tightly.

His lips brush over your knuckles gently, before he presses the back of your hands against his forehead, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“This isn’t right.”

Your heart races in your chest, stomach tying in knots as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about? Is everything okay? Did... did I do something wrong?” Maybe you shouldn’t have talked to Pepper earlier. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and smiled.

“I can’t keep you here.”

One sentence. Five words. Sixteen letters.

That’s all it takes to have your heart stuttering.

“What... what do you mean you can’t keep me here?” You try your hardest not to let your hopes get too high. Maybe he’s going to kill you. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s certainly something more up his alley than... the alternative.

He slowly raises his head, teary red eyes staring up into yours.

“You know what I mean.”

You shake your head, needing to hear him say it himself.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, the words hurting him but he needs to say them.

“You're free to go. You and Sarah.”

The breath gets knocked from your lungs, eyes wide as tears start to blossom. This is a trap. A test. It has to be. There’s no way...

“You’re letting us go?” You ask softly.

He sighs again, nodding as tears find their way down his cheeks.

“Yeah... I guess I am.”

You’re silent, staring at him and waiting for him to tell you it’s a joke, to punish you. But he doesn’t. No, instead he lets go of one of your hands and stands up, his chest almost brushing yours.

“You said I don’t love you... but I do. I love you. Or maybe I love the idea of you, I don’t know. But either way... I hate how sad you are. How sad and afraid I make you. You're free to go wherever you want.”

You’re practically hyperventilating.

After all this time, you never truly thought he’d ever let you go. That he’d have even a shred of decency left inside him.

He cups your hands together and carefully places something inside them, then turns and walks to the front door, grabbing his keys and leaving the house.

You stand silently, staring at the object in your hands until standing becomes too hard and you think you may throw up.

Then you sit down, silent tears trekking down your cheeks.

“(Y/n)?” You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, but Natasha’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“(Y/n), are you okay? Where’s Steve?”

You stare up at her then look back down at the tiny, life-changing object in your hands.

“He let us go,” you whisper, your glossy eyes raising to hers again.

She looks half as shocked as you feel.

“What?”

You sniffle then wipe the tears off of your cheeks.

“He’s letting us go,” you repeat, pushing yourself to your feet and holding your bump.

“Really?” You nod, eyes finding the backyard through the kitchen window.

Sarah and Morgan are playing outside with Sam and Wanda.

“What are you gonna do?”

Your heart is so full of confusion, full of pain and hurt.

“I’m gonna go cut the cake, then have a talk with Sarah.” She nods, a small smile on her face.

She heads back outside and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before you go out and face Steve’s friends.

You toy with the dainty thing he dropped in your hands before nodding to yourself.

This is what’s right. It’s the right choice for both of you.

You entertain his guests for a few more hours, not wanting to clue them into anything in case they disagree with your decision, with Steve’s.

Only after the presents are given and the cake is almost completely devoured do they finally start to leave.

Wanda helps you tidy up the backyard, writing her phone number down with a soft smile and a whispered ‘if you ever need a friend’.

Everyone bids you goodbye until only Bucky and Nat are left, the metal-armed soldier staring intently at your left hand before a smile spreads across his face.

He surprises you, pulling you into a gentle hug and nodding his head.

“Congratulations, (Y/n).” You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but for some reason, you don’t think it has anything to do with the baby shower.

They leave too, and then you’re virtually alone, Sarah and Morgan asleep upstairs.

After cleaning up every last inch of the house, you head upstairs to go to sleep.

Steve isn’t home until after midnight, long after he lets his tears run dry and his heart stop shattering. It just aches now. Hurts.

He let you go. He really did it.

Deep down he knew this would be the outcome. Either this or your death, but he never wanted to accept it. Refused to admit it to himself.

But seeing Wanda... after all that she’s been through... and she’s still standing strong.

He takes his shoes off and drops his keys on the kitchen counter, freezing in his tracks when he sees the covered plate of cake with his name written on it.

The batter is blue.

A boy.

He’s gonna have a son.

A son that he’ll never get to meet. He’s given you freedom, and he doubts you’ll let him be a part of your child’s life after all that he’s put you through.

He slowly makes his way upstairs, his heart hurting when he sees no sign of your things in the pristine house.

When he pushes open the bedroom door he freezes in his tracks.

There you are, sleeping in his bed. No bags are packed, nothing is out of place, and the dainty diamond ring sits on your finger.

You’ve made your choice, he realizes, his heart jumping for joy in his chest.

He sheds his clothes then climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in his arms and sighing heavily.

Maybe Wanda was wrong.

Maybe he’ll get his happy ending after all.

#dark!steve #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x you #steve x reader dark fic #stucky x reader dark fic #Steve rogers x reader dark fic #Steve Rogers x reader #dark!Steve Rogers x reader #Steve X reader dark fic #dark fic #dark au #Steve X reader dark au

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 3)

i did not expect this to turn into more than just a oneshot, but here i am, posting a part 3?? and there’s more to come??? lmao, im a mess, having a million wips at a time, whatever. enjoy this DIRTY piece in the world of Harry and Actress!Y/N hehe!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 3k

warning: NSFW content (we are taking a dirty turn in this part babes)

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“But are you really sure you’re fine?” Florence asks for the millionth time over the phone. “You know, I could come over anytime, have a few drinks and forget about the idiots who decided you don’t deserve that Emmy.”

“I’m very sure,” you chuckle, sinking further down on your couch, kicking your heels off your feet. “It’s not a big deal.” “Oh it is, but you are trying to act all tough, though I know it bothers you.”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t bother me, but there’s nothing I can do about it,” you tell her truthfully.

“You know, sometimes I forget that you are this wise ass bitch, not some petty loser that I usually am.”

You snort at her words laughing loudly. Florence is by far one of the funniest people you know, she never fails to make you laugh, no matter what’s the situation.

“It’s sad that I didn’t win, but I’m fine. Really. Maybe next time it will be me,” you say, genuinely hoping this wasn’t your first nomination.

“Okay, I’ll stop bugging you, but call me if you change your mind and want company.”

“Thank you, Flo. Talk to you later.”

Once you end the call you let a long, heavy breath out that feels like you’ve been keeping in all night. Walking into your closet you stop in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, taking a look at yourself, still wearing the burgundy pant suit you wore for the award show. You were the only woman in pants all evening and you felt more powerful than ever. You’ve always loved to make a statement with your fashion choices and tonight you feel like you definitely succeeded in getting the message through: you are a bad bitch.

Stripping out of the outfit you hang it carefully before putting on some sweats and an oversized vintage t-shirt, feeling so much more comfortable already. Your hair is still in loose waves and you kind of like the texture, so you just leave it like that, moving into your bedroom to check up on some emails.

Cozied up under your duvet, laptop resting on your thighs, you start replying to some emails, updating your schedule for the next week. You almost don’t notice the text you get, barely catching the lit up screen from the corner of your eyes. Grabbing the device from the night stand you smile down at the series of messages from Harry.

“Bunch of idiots,” the first one reads.

“I’m suing them. All of them.”

“You looked fucking unreal by the way. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you read the last one over and over again. It’s been weeks since your number landed in Harry’s phone and you’ve been texting nonstop since then. Whenever you pulled your phone out to check if someone had tried to reach you, there was always a text rom him waiting for you, making you smile most of the time.

“Thanks Xx,” you reply shortly, not sure how to react to his heated words of calling the whole Television Academy a bunch of idiots, though it surely warmed your heart.

“Enjoying the after party?” his next text comes fast.

“Nope, I’m home already. Didn’t feel like partying.”

“What?! You not winning is not an excuse to skip celebrating. You still got nominated!”

“Already celebrated that, so I’m out of occasions.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that. Text me your address, I’m going over with wine and takeout.”

His bluntness in flirting and shooting his shot has been amusing to you since the moment he sat next to you on The Ellen Show. Harry Styles doesn’t shy away to try and show his attraction, or at least not towards you.

You hesitate a little, not sure if you want him here, but something deep down in your guts is telling you that you definitely want him to come over, some dirty thoughts already popping into your mind, but you are quick to get rid of them.

You send him your address and he tells you he’ll be over in twenty. You use that time to clean up a little around your apartment. You left in kind of a rush earlier, being a little late with your glam team, so you didn’t bother to leave the place in a decent state. It doesn’t take long though to clean up the mess and checking the time you see that you still have a little time until Harry arrives. As you walk past one of the mirrors in your hallway, you take a look at yourself, debating whether you should change or stay in your comfy homey outfit. At last you drop the idea to put on a different outfit, not wanting to look desperate when Harry arrives.

Not long later you get a notification from downstairs that a so called Mr. Styles has entered the building and is heading up to your floor. Running a hand through your hair you walk over to the front door and opening it you stand there, waiting for the elevator to arrive. When the familiar ding hits your ear you notice how your heart skips a beat upon seeing him walk out.

“Hi,” you smile at him holding the door open for him. He looks amazing, as always, wearing a pair of brown high-waisted pants with a loose white shirt tugged into it, a teal denim jacket topping the outfit. He looks comfortable, but still well put together, something you have always admired in his style.

“Hello, Love,” he smiles back at you and pulls you in for a short, one armed hug before walking fully inside. “Didn’t know what stuff you fancy, so I got a bunch,” he admits with a chuckle, holding up two plastic bags completely stuffed.

“You really shouldn’t have,” you shake your head at him smiling as you lock the front door and lead him into your open concept kitchen.

“But I should have,” he argues, setting the bags down to the counter, packing out everything he brought.

Three bottles of wine, all of them different kinds, snacks, both sweet and salty, topped with an insane amount of Chinese takeout that could feed a whole family, not just two people. You put the wines into the fridge though you know they won’t get chilly enough by the time you open it. Turning to Harry you smile at him shyly, only just now realizing that he is in your home for the first time.

“Want a tour?” you ask, pulling your shoulders up to your ears.

“Would love that,” he smirks and lets you lead the way.

The modern apartment in Manhattan has been your home for a little over a year now. One of the first things you invested into once you started earning like an A-list celebrity. It’s spacious, you did the interior over once you bought it, formed it a little more to your taste. You walk Harry through the living room, the three bedrooms from which one is yours, the others function as a guest room whenever a family member of one of your friends needs a place to stay. There are three bathrooms in total, a study room that’s always a mess, your desk filled with scripts and books most of the time, but Harry tells you it suits your vibe.

“And this here is my wardrobe,” you end the tour, flicking the lights on in the walk in closet, probably your favorite part of the place. It’s bigger than your bedroom, but it’s exactly what you and your passion for fashion needs.

Harry curiously walks inside, his eyes immediately stopping on the burgundy pant suit you wore earlier that night.

“This, Darling, was an excellent choice,” he smirks over at you, his fingers dancing over the soft fabric of the pants.

“Felt amazing in it,” you nod smiling.

“I bet you did,” he chuckles softly.

The two of you head back to the kitchen and sit at the kitchen island, roaming through all the food Harry has brought. A short silence comes over the room that’s broken by Harry first.

“So how are you really feeling about tonight?”

“I’m fine,” you shrug, but then feel his hand on your knee that’s closer to him and your eyes flicker over to him, his gaze burning down on you intently.

“No, I’m asking fo’ real. You don’t have to mask your disappointment.”

Licking your lips you look back at your plate filled with dumplings and you start to just poke them around with the chopsticks in your hand.

“Of course I’m disappointed. Who wouldn’t want to win? But there’s not much I can do about it, right?”

“Still, you shouldn’t push it all down.”

“I’m not the type to rage very publicly, if you haven’t realized that,” you chuckle, diverting your eyes back at him, catching a soft smile on his lips.

“That I know of. Miss No Beef,” he teases you, even though you could pretty much say the same thing about him. “I was properly screaming at the screen when they said someone else’s name over yours.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“Mhm. I was rooting for you big time.”

“Well,” you sigh turning back to your plate. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Nah-ah, none of that crap, Y/N,” he protests right away, dropping his chopsticks to his plate as he slides off his stool, stepping closer to you, one hand lying flat on the counter, while the other one finds the underside of your stool and he easily turns you so you are facing him, your knees involuntarily parting so he could stand between them. “I’m not letting you think of any less of yourself because of some stupid award.”

“The Emmys are not stupid,” you correct him, but it seems like he doesn’t even hear you, staring down at you with a smug grin, his hand moving from the stool to your waist.

“Mhm, they are. They made the most talented and beautiful woman think she is not the best of all.”

You can’t push down the smile that tugs on your lips as you watch him slowly lean closer. Heart beating faster, you let him do whatever he has on his mind, not finding the will to push him away. Not that you want to do that, you’d be stupid to say no to this man.

“Who’s this woman we are talking about?” you breathe out with a teasing smile. Harry smirks back at you, his hand squeezing your waist gently as his other hand moves up to the base of your neck, his thumb running along your jawline.

“The woman I’ve been fantasizing about lately.”

A desperate whimper tries to escape your lips, but you bite it back in time, feeling so lost how much effect he has on you with just a simple sentence.

“What are these fantasies about?” you find yourself asking as he leans closer, his nose brushing against yours.

You’re aching for his lips, to feel him touch you everywhere. You want to come undone under his hands and the breaking point where you won’t be able to mask up your desperate feelings is threateningly close.

“I’ve been thinking about making her feel real good. Watch her fall apart under my touch,” he murmurs lowly and this time, you can’t hold that moan back. Your lips brush against his, but he pulls back smirking, not kissing you.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when you feel his hand move from your waist to your stomach, cheekily teasing you as he is drawing circles around your belly button over the soft fabric of your shirt.

“Can I touch you, Y/N? I really want to make you feel appreciated and good. Will you let me do that?”

Not able to find your voice you whimper out something that’s close to being a yes, but it’s not enough for him and while you are losing touch with what’s really going on, Harry is very much enjoying seeing you like this, all for himself.

“Use your words, Love. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes!” you choke out and luckily, he doesn’t waste any more time.

You feel his lips connect with your neck as both his hands work on the waistband of your sweats, pushing them further down a little before his right hand taps on the top of your lacy underwear, the one you wore under your suit tonight, the one Harry definitely thought about when he first saw you through his screen.

You gasp when his hand slides into your underwear, fingers finding your sensitive bud of nerves, pressing down on them softly. You desperately turn your face, eager to meet his lips, but he pulls back for your dismay.

“Not now, Love,” he tells you and though the words sting a little, you don’t have much time to dwell on them when you feel his fingers slide back and forth between your soaking wet folds. “So wet for me, aren’t you?” he smirks while you’re trying to breath evenly, though it’s quite the challenge.

His lips return to your neck and your hands fly up to grab onto the back of his neck and shoulders, his fingers teasing you around your hole, not entering just yet. You start buckling your hips, desperate to get him take the next step and he is surely enjoying the show you are putting on for him.

“Ready to feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, hands grabbing onto his hair roughly and a loud moan escapes your lips when he pushes two of his fingers inside you.

“Fuck, this feels so nice,” he groans, lips nipping on the soft skin under your ear. He is quick to take up on a pace, moving his digits in and out, his thumb circling on your clit, adding that extra magic most men always forget about. But not Harry, he is eager to please you the best he can and if you weren’t sitting, you’d be on your knees for him by now.

“Yeah, tug on my hair, Darling,” he growls, his voice sending chills down your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair just as he asked, while you feel your climax building up.

He picks up his pace, curling his fingers inside you every time he thrusts them in, making you almost see stars. Your legs fly around his waist, ankles crossing above his bum as you bring him closer, and a whimpered groan bursts out of him, probably because his erection just got squeezed against his hand by your action, his nonstop moving hand now stuck between your heated core and his throbbing member. When his head pulls back you quickly look at him, about to ask if he is alright, but he just presses a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth as his unsaid answer that he is perfectly fine.

His forehead comes to rest against yours as he adds a third finger, making you moan his name in ecstasy. Your mind is starting to completely shut down, the sensation of utter pleasure taking over your whole body as you can feel your orgasm just a few thrusts away.

“C’mon, Love. Let it go for me,” he mumbles, his free hand sliding to your back so he keeps you flushed against him, your heaving chest touching his upper body with each drawn breath.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you pant, eyes screwed shut, tipping over the edge of your climax. “Please don’t stop!” you beg whining.

“Never, Darling.”

And he keeps his words. He keeps going and going until your walls close up around his slick fingers and your thighs tremble around his waist. You tug on his hair once again, pulling his head back just enough so your eyes meet right when you come undone. His fingers keep moving a little longer, bringing you down from your high before the last wave of your orgasm dies down and you are brought back to reality.

When his fingers slide out of you, the feeling of emptiness makes you breathe out in dismay and it brings a smile to his lips as he licks his fingers clean and you swear that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watch him taste your pleasure on his own fingers.

Glancing down you see the very visible bulge in his pants and you reach down to return the favor you just had the pleasure to get, but his hands wrap around your wrists stopping you, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

“Not now, Love. This was all about you. I’ll be fine.”

“But—“ “No,” he cuts you off shaking his head gently. “Seeing you like this was more than enough for me.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you feel yourself blushing at his words, the whole situation that just went down dawning on you just now. Harry really did just finger you on one of your kitchen stools and it was one hell of an experience for sure.

When your gaze wanders over to his lips you remember how he refused to kiss you and now you actually have the chance to pay more attention to this tiny detail.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” you ask him, legs falling from his waist as he goes to sit back on his stool. He glances at you, a soft smile on the lips that never touched yours.

“I wasn’t planning to do this, but I just couldn’t stop myself. However, I’m still trying to be a gentleman, so I won’t kiss you until I’ve taken you out on a proper date.”

“I can’t believe you,” you chuckle shaking your head at the absurdity of what he just said. “So you are fine fingering me shamelessly, but you won’t kiss me without a date?” you ask, rephrasing his words.

“That’s right,” he nods, his smile growing into a smirk now. Shaking your head you turn back to your probably cold plate of food, chuckling to yourself.

“Harry Styles, you are… something else.”

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles never have i ever #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x actress!reader

1K notes · View notes

theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

MY DEAR WIFE. I DESIRE A SEQUEL TO THE JIMMY EMPIRE FIC. I MADE THIS TUMBLR ACCOUNT TO MAKE MY DEMANDS. NOW GO BE FREE. WRITE YOU FANTASTIC FANFIC WRITER YOU. -BEST SPOUSE, PURP <3

this was a popular request LMAO :D

here’s the first part

…

The ringing of her communicator wakes Lizzie up late in the night. Blinking herself awake, she quickly answers it, speaking quietly so as to not awaken her sleeping fiance next to her. “Hello?”

“Lizzie, it’s Pixl,” comes the familiar British voice. “I’m so sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” Lizzie says. “Is something wrong?”

“Something’s happened with Jimmy.”

Lizzie’s heart skips a beat. “Is he okay?”

“I’ll explain everything later but I could really use your help right now. Are you able to come to the Cod Empire?”

Momentarily forgetting that Pixl can’t see her, Lizzie nods. “Of course, I’ll come over right away.”

“Thanks so much, Lizzie,” says Pixl gratefully. “See you soon.”

“See you.”

Lizzie puts down her communicator and gets out of bed. Just as she’s finished changing, her fiance stirs in his bed and murmurs, “What’s going on? Who was that?”

“Pixl,” replies Lizzie softly, secretly glad he’s awake; she wouldn’t have woken him first. “Something’s happened to Jimmy, and Pixl needs me. You okay to come over to the Cod Empire with me?”

Joel sits up in his bed, immediately more awake. “Of course, of course. Let me get dressed.”

The two fly straight over to the Cod Empire and land outside Jimmy’s house. Pixl answers the door on the first knock. “Queen Lizzie, thank you for coming,” he says gratefully. “And King Joel.”

He leads them inside. Lizzie and Joel both gasp simultaneously as they spot Jimmy lying on the bed.

Joel freezes but Lizzie dashes to his side and grasps his hand, staring down in horror at the bruises covering Jimmy’s face. “Oh my goodness! What happened to him?! Is he okay?!”

Pixl joins her on Jimmy’s other side. “He’s recovering,” he responds grimly. “You know the demon Xornoth that’s shown their face around the server lately?”

“Heard of them.”

“fWhip and Sausage seem to be around the epicentre of the whole thing. They captured Jimmy, kept him in a cell for a whole day, beat him several times, then tried to sacrifice him to Xornoth. Scott and I managed to save him but he almost died from his injuries before Scott was able to heal him somewhat with magic.”

Lizzie gazes down at Jimmy with a worried expression, gently touching his face. He stirs slightly under her touch.

After a moment, she speaks again, her tone low and dangerous. “fWhip and Sausage, you said?”

Pixl nods. “Yeah. Scott and I chased them off but I’m a little worried about them returning to finish the job. That’s why I asked you over; I could do with some help protecting him. If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.” Lizzie retracts her hand and presses her fist into her palm. “Hell, if either of them show their faces around here, I’ll rip them apart with my bare hands.”

Now Joel moves closer to the bed, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Poor Jimmy… I can’t imagine how terrified he must’ve been.”

As Pixl opens his mouth to respond, another knock at the door sounds. The three frown at each other, trying to work out who could possibly be at the door.

After a moment, Pixl heads back over to the door and answers it. His gaze darkens when he sees who’s standing there. “You’re not welcome here.”

Lizzie stiffens as she hears MythicalSausage’s voice: “I just wanted to ask how Jimmy is. And to… apologise.”

“Apologise?!” Lizzie bursts out.

Joel draws Pixl out of the way as Lizzie storms to the door and shoves Sausage backwards. “You TORTURED my friend and you think you can just walk over here and APOLOGISE?!”

Sausage scrambles back as a furious Lizzie bears down on him. “I had nothing to do with hurting him! That was all fWhip!”

“YOU THINK THAT MAKES IT BETTER?!” Lizzie bellows.

She flings out her arms and manipulates the ocean water into grabbing hold of Sausage and bringing him closer to her. “ACK!” Sausage chokes, struggling uselessly. “LIZZIE!”

“I’m going to kill you, Sausage,” growls Lizzie. “Would you rather be flung high into the air and fall to your death or drowned in salty ocean water?”

“N-Neither!”

A dark smile appears on Lizzie’s face. “Too bad. I’ve decided I’m gonna drown you.”

She lifts the water higher. His scream is abruptly cut off as the water envelopes his head, stopping him from breathing. She watches with satisfaction as his air slowly runs out.

But then Pixl’s voice comes from behind her: “Lizzie, he’s calling for you. He needs you.”

Lizzie pauses, weighing up her options. Eventually, she releases Sausage onto the dock, taking grim pleasure in the way he splutters and coughs up water. “You’re lucky this time, Sausage,” she says. She kneels down beside him and pushes her face close to Sausage’s with a menacing glare. “But if you ever, and I mean EVER, come near Jimmy again, you’re gonna wish you were never born. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Y-Yes!” gasps Sausage.

Lizzie steps back and lets Sausage flee, before rushing back inside and back to Jimmy’s side. Her ally is stirring, his eyelids fluttering. “L-Lizz...ie…”

“I’m here,” whispers Lizzie softly, holding his hand against her cheek to reassure him of her presence. “I’m here, Jimmy. Are you okay?”

Jimmy coughs weakly. “M-My wrists hurt.”

Frowning, Lizzie pushes down Jimmy’s sleeve, revealing the thick red marks. “Wh-What is this?!” she gasps. “Pixl?”

“It’s…” Pixl hesitates, knowing what his next words will likely cause. “They’re burn marks. He had his hands tied behind his back for most of the day in that cell.”

Joel glances sharply at his fiancee. “Uh oh.”

Thunder sounds overhead as dark clouds rapidly slide across the sky. Lizzie’s expression remains steady, but lightning flashes in her eyes. “I’ll be right back, Jimmy,” she says, her voice as steady as her expression. But it’s just an act for Jimmy’s benefit and both Pixl and Joel know it.

Neither Pixl nor Joel stop her as she storms out of the hut and takes off flying towards the Grimlands. She lands atop the outer wall, rain starting to fall from the sky.

“FWHIP!” she bellows, her voice rolling through the clouds and echoing across the land.

Seconds later, the count himself appears atop his tower, within audible distance despite the increasingly loud thunder overhead. “Queen Lizzie!” He spreads his arms wide. “How may I help you?”

A bolt of lightning strikes the very top of fWhip’s tower.

“Aha, what have I done to invoke the wrath of the Ocean Queen?” fWhip laughs.

Instead of replying verbally, Lizzie lifts her arms and summons a giant wave of water from the river, sending it crashing down like a tsunami over the Grimlands.

“NO!” fWhip yells. “My villagers! You’re gonna drown my villagers!”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU TORTURED JIMMY AND TRIED TO MURDER HIM!” roars Lizzie.

fWhip stares at her for a moment as he finally remembers that Lizzie is one of Jimmy’s closest allies. “...oh…”

Shaking himself into action, fWhip dives down into his flooded village. Lizzie watches him, taking grim satisfaction in watching him flounder around in desperation. She doesn’t even realise how close he is to death until-

fWhip drowned

Lizzie quickly dissipates the flood and jumps down to look for fWhip’s items. As she’s starting to pick them up, fWhip reappears, so she retreats back to a safe distance.

“I’ll get my revenge for this, Ocean Queen,” growls fWhip. “I will not take the attempted murder of my villagers lying down.”

“I don’t give a crap,” Lizzie snaps back. “Don’t you dare think about going near Jimmy ever again, because if you do, I can promise you I will wipe your goddamn empire off the face of the world and I will NOT regret doing it.”

fWhip narrows his eyes. “You’re messing with the wrong empire. I too have the power to wipe an empire out of existence.”

“I live in the ocean. The bulk of my empire is underwater now. Your TNT will make a scratch at most.”

fWhip’s mouth opens, then closes again. After a moment, he looks away. “Fine.”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re backing down that easily?”

“I’m being smart. You’ve no idea what’s coming, Lizzie. I do. I need to prepare. I can’t afford to be dragged into another war right now.”

As fWhip turns, he finds Lizzie extremely close to him. She grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him close so that their faces are inches apart. “Then don’t start one,” she snarls. “Stay away from my allies.”

She shoves fWhip away and takes off again, flying back to the swamp. Part of her feels bad at the attack on fWhip’s innocent villagers but she pushes it aside. fWhip tortured Jimmy and was perfectly willing to slaughter him when he was tied up and defenceless.

Lizzie has no sympathy or mercy for a person like that.

When she gets back, Joel meets her at the door. “Lizzie, you’re back!” he gasps. “I saw the death message in chat.”

“Yes. fWhip needed to be told that I won’t tolerate him hurting my Jimmy.” Her gaze flickers from Joel to Pixl and back again. “Or any of you.”

Joel gazes at her with almost visible hearts in his eyes. “I love you so much, Lizzie.”

Lizzie can’t help a chuckle. “I love you too.”

“Guys, guys, come quick!” Pixl calls suddenly. “Guys!”

The two quickly rush to Jimmy’s beside but stop dead simultaneously when they see what Pixl is so panicked about.

A mark has appeared on Jimmy’s neck. It looks like some kind of rune, but what’s worrying about it is the fact that it’s glowing red.

“What is this?” Lizzie gasps. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know! It just appeared!”

After a few seconds, the glowing dies down, leaving only the clear black mark.

“This has got to be something to do with the demon,” says Pixl shakily. “I don’t know what or how or why, but somehow, fWhip and Sausage’s attempted sacrifice of Jimmy must’ve caused this.”

“But what can we do about it?” Joel asks. “What can we do to help?”

Pixl has no answer to this.

Nobody does.

#empires smp #pixlriffs #ldshadowlady #solidaritygaming #smallishbeans #fwhip #mythicalsausage #vaunna’s requests

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sunnysunoo · 3 years

Text

Love Letters ; Sim Jake

Pairing: Jake X Reader

warnings: explicit language and cursing

word count: 3k words

genre: friends to lovers au! fluff with tiny pieces of crack lmao

Jake was always known for being this perfect guy in school. I mean, they're not wrong. They always described him as if he's this walking piece of art in the hallways. People would stop to just stare at him. You'd stare at him all day too, but you set priorities first: writing him love letters.

You're no Lara Jean, but I guess you can say that she's what inspired you to write Jake letters. Who needs Peter Kavinsky when Jake Shim exists anyways?

note: Not me completely disappearing off of tumblr for like months and then showing up again suddenly lol. I got really busy the past few months since I was completing requirements for school, and I really didn't have the motivation to do anything at the time so I took so time off to take care of myself first so I hope you understand :) But now since it's summer break, I am given at least 2 more months until I go back to school in August :)) Here's the long-awaited Jake imagine that I completely forgot about lmao hope you enjoy <3

P.S I finished writing this at 1:26 am so please excuse the really shitty plot and grammar ill rewrite it once i wake up

tag list: @cha-raena ( sorry for the rlly late post bestie )

Dear Jake, First of all, I will never call you Jaeyun because calling you by your English name makes me feel like I'm your friend. Calling you by your Korean name makes us feel like we're cold strangers to one another and I don't want that. I want us to be something more than that, but it's hard when you don't even know who I am. I'm surprised how you don't grow tired of me just dropping letters right into your locker every time you open it, and that's one of the things I love about you. You don't just throw away people's efforts and you treasure them with care. It makes my heart beat so fast as if I ran miles away from here.

We're already one year left until we graduate high school, and I don't want to end my high school years without you realizing my feelings for you. I know for sure that you would never reciprocate the feelings that I have towards you, so I want to treat this as closure in case we do forget about each other in the future. Yours truly,

Moon

"How is this person not over you? That's like the tenth one this month," Jay said, looking over Jake as he reads the letter from his secret admirer. Jake has always been receiving these letters from the same person everyday for the past four months. He's thankful for the letters because they definitely make his day better, knowing that there's someone out there who loves him as who he is regardless of looks. He's not gonna lie that these little notes and letters make his heart race too. "Do you have any plans with finding the person behind the letters?" Jay asked as he watches his best friend trying to hide the small smile that's been growing. No one really knows who this mysterious person is and why they decided to name themselves the moon, but we don't judge anyone in here. If they want to be the moon in their next life, then so be it. "I really want to find the person who's making these letters," Jake shoved the letter in his backpack, trying to not wrinkle it. "But I don't know where to start." "Who's finding who?" A voice popped suddenly beside the presence of the two boys. You leaned beside the locker beside Jake's, watching him as he grabs his books from his locker. "Did Moon drop your daily letter today again?" "They did as usual," Jake wasn't even surprised. He would expect the letters every time he enters the school in the morning. He would open his locker to see the usual small letter placed inside his locker. He usually arrives at seven or earlier, but he's surprised that he could never even catch a glance of this anonymous sender around the campus. "Should I go to school at five in the morning?" "Five in the morning? Isn't that a bit too early?" You questioned, followed by a shaky breath. "The school doesn't even open until six." "I could just walk to that nearby convenience store I always pass by to grab a coffee." He argues, closing his locker shut before walking towards his classroom.

You and Jay followed beside him, and you sneered under your breath, "You don't even wake up to your alarm clock."

"Why don't you even want me to go early anyway?" He glances as you try to give him an answer. But before you could say something, Jay replies first.

"You’re probably hiding something." He said. You rolled your eyes and narrowed your eyes at him. "You are so weird." You grunted, before walking ahead of them. You feel panicked because you were scared that you made yourself obvious to them.

You were inside your classroom sitting on your desk. There were only fifteen minutes left before lunch, but you had eaten your packed meal before instead of going to your school cafeteria. You were fidgeting in your place, conflicted about Jake finding his secret admirer, not knowing that it was you who's been sending him letters the past few months. You're not scared of him finding out that the letters were from you; that was the entire reason why you wrote him letters in the first place. You're scared of how he was gonna confront you about it. Would he like you back? Would he hate you? Would he avoid you?

Your mind was full of scenarios but you were suddenly brought back to reality when a hand planted itself on your desk. You look up and saw Jay standing in front of you, eating sushi with his other hand. His face kinda looks like he knows something, and it's freaking you out a bit.

"What?" You asked, suddenly flustered over how his eyes stared right into you. He took the seat in front of your desk and flipped it so it was facing you. He sat down and blurted the phrase that you were dreading to hear from anyone.

"So, you like Jake?"

You suddenly feel like punching him in the face with his sushi.

"What??" Your body felt like, and you were left a nervous mess. Your heart like it was going to pump right out of your chest any minute, and your hands started to sweat.

Jay's mouth formed into a smirk. He caught you. "Jake may be a bit oblivious, but I can totally see right through you."

“Haha...no you don’t,” You tried to deny, but it was all useless when his expression looked unconvinced.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you all red? You look like a bursting tomato.”

“You don’t know that," You leaned further into your seat, playing with the strings of your hoodie.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re not even trying. Just give up and admit it,” Jay was trying to help you confess your feelings for Jake. Frankly, he knew it was you sending him letters this whole time—how can Jake not see it?

With a heavy sigh, you slumped and laid your head on your desk, embarrassed. “Fine. I like him, okay? Are you happy now?”

The smirk on his face grew wider, feeling proud of himself. You are not dealing with his annoying crap this early in the morning. He grinned and munched on his half-eaten sushi. “I knew it.”

“Congratulations,” It was muffled because you hid your red face away from him. All that was on your mind now was how you could book yourself a flight all the way across the world.

“But seriously, since when did you have a crush on him?” You raised your head to face him, giving him a look that could kill, except Jay finds it entertaining rather than intimidating.

“I started having a crush on him when we were in fifth grade. It was at a friend's birthday party, and he saw me being all quiet and lonely. Honestly, I forgot who’s birthday that was.” You told him the very first time you had discovered feelings.

“He saw how sad I looked so he accompanied me the whole time. He was even trying to feel more included in the games and stuff.” You felt a smile ghosting on your lips as you can still vividly remember how you felt your heart tug the first time. “It was kinda like I fell in love at first sight.”

Jay faked a gag, so you lightly punched him in the shoulder. He may be a bit of an asshole, but he’s one the most caring and kind people you’ve ever met. It honestly felt good spilling out your feelings about Jake to him.

Speaking of, Jake was watching you two play around and laugh at Jay's little jokes from outside, and he felt something burning from inside him. Was it that he felt jealous of you and Jay?

No, he can’t be...right?

Maybe it was because of how he felt separated from you and Jay because of him being a separate class.

Yeah, maybe it's because of that.

Dear Jake,

I just had the most bizarre day today, and I felt like telling you about it.

It was chemistry period, and we had to be partnered with someone for a lab project. I ended up getting paired with Yeojin. We kinda created this unexpected friendship, which I love. We would crack jokes at each other, tell funny stories, it was so fun to be with her that we had completely forgotten about our project. So now, we both got a detention slip for making an accidental explosion.

How about you? How was your day? I hope it was just as fun as mine. If you feel like the day just wasn't as happy or you're feeling down, just now that it's okay to feel that way because days like these just lasts for 24 hours. It will be all over before you know it and you'll be greeted by another day. Maybe it will be different, and you would be all happy again just like how my day went. Maybe being with you would be my happiest day yet, and I couldn't wait for that day to come. See you soon :)

Love,

Moon

"Yeojin!" Jake called, seeing her walk down the opposite way. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"

"Hey Jake," She greeted him with a smile. "Sure, go ahead."

"Could you perhaps give me any information about your partner in Chemistry?" He had hopes of getting any kind of description about his mysterious sender, but he was instead given a sad frown on Yeojin's face.

"Sorry Jake, but that person told me not to tell you about their information." She gave an apologetic smile. "I wish you all the best in finding them!"

Jake muttered a small "okay," and sighed before walking away, feeling defeated.

Yeojin knew that he was gonna ask about Moon the moment he called her from across the hall. She couldn't wait to tell you about this.

"Hey Y/N," A voice said from behind. You turned around to see Jake with his backup hung on his shoulder. He brought his hand up and raked his hair, and you felt your face grow red. Jake is like a gift from the gods. How can someone look so ethereal even if they're just standing there? You could stare at him all day. You couldn't even understand a thing he said until he started waving his hands in front of you.

"Hello?" You blinked multiple times as you were brought back out to reality. You saw Jake's face grow into concern. "Are you okay? spaced out."

"O-oh..No, I'm completely fine." You reassured him, feeling embarrassed. "What were you saying again?"

"I was asking you if you wanted to go to school with me early tomorrow."

Well, shit.

Your eyes started to go wide, and your hands started to go clammy.

"Tomorrow?" You repeated, voice trembling.

'Well, yeah." He pouted his lips, and you felt like melting into a small puddle in your place. Your heart started to pound heavily.

Oh my fucking god, he is so adorable.

"Okay, sure I can go with you tomorrow," You weakly smiled at him, slightly tense.

How we're you going to give him the letter now?

"Good Morning," Jake said as he watches you close the gates of your house. It was past five in the morning, and you were a mess.

"Morning," You replied back before running your fingers through your hair, getting rid of any flyaways.

As you started walking your way to the bus stop, Jake kept on glancing towards you from time to time. He knew you were pretty, but since when did you become really beautiful in his eyes?

The walk was pretty quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. For him, mostly.

Meanwhile, you couldn't stop freaking out. You had written a letter the night before, but you don't know how you were going to slip it into his locker without him taking notice. If he saw you, he would know.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've been like this since yesterday," Jake blurted. You looked at him before heaving a sigh.

"It's nothing," You mouthed, suddenly feeling anxious and gloomy.

"Something on your mind?"

"Something like that." It was hopeless. I guess he would have to miss this letter today. It was the first time you skipped a day, and you're feeling guilty that you would have to see Jake's face sadden that he wouldn't receive it today.

As you two stop at the bus stop, Jake looked slightly panicked as he was rummaging through the pockets of his blazer before looking through his bag. "Hey, do you have an extra pen? I left mine at home and I have a quiz today."

You snickered, "Out of all the days, Sim Jake. The same day you have a quiz is the same day you forget your pen."

"Very funny." He scoffed.

As you unzipped your bag to grab your pencil case, a folded piece of paper fell out without you realizing it. When Jake went to pick it up, he notices that it was folded the same way as the letters in his locker. It looked so identical.

Once you already got your pencil case out, you were about to hand it to him when you saw what he was holding that made your body freeze with your hand holding the case in the air.

"Why were one of my letters inside your bag?" He glanced at you, waiting for you to reply.

If you were freaking out before, this is a whole other thing. The thing that you were fearing the most is happening right before you.

"Maybe it fell into my bag yesterday..." You stammered, making up an excuse to look like it was an accident. You were tightly holding onto your pencil case, chanting many curse words in your head as you watch Jake unfold the letter.

"I don't think I've received this one yet," He said before he opened the letter and read it.

You watch as his expression formed into confusion as he reads through the paper. It only took a few moments before something in him clicked that it was you sending him the letters.

"Y/N," He began, and you started quivering in fear.

You should've known this would happen, but you didn't expect it to happen this sooner. In fact, you believed that this wouldn't happen at all. But it did.

"Let me explain," You eventually gave up and accepted fate and watch as your identity as "Moon" be revealed to your crush. You're now exposed so you didn't have any other choice but to explain everything. "Yes, I am Moon. I was the one writing you the letters that you've been getting in your locker."

Jake's face was unreadable. He looked bewildered and puzzled. He was trying to comprehend what was happening right now. All this time, it was you?

"I started crushing on you when we attended that birthday party before. I didn't want to confess my feelings for you because I was scared that you were going to harshly reject me, so I started writing down letters as a way to tell you how I feel about you without making you feel awkward around me." You continued, eyes suddenly taking an interest in your shoes. They were brand new too.

Jake was silent, and you felt your heart crack into pieces. You were mad at yourself for being so careless about it that he ended up finding out about you as his secret admirer. You wanted nothing else but to run back home, lock yourself in your room and cry with your sad playlist on loop.

You were expecting a harsh rejection coming from him, but what surprised was how he took dangerous steps towards you, minimizing the gap between you two. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"I don't plan on rejecting you Y/N," You stare into his eyes as it reflects the sunlight of the early morning. "I'm actually happy that it was you."

You look at him, puzzled. He lowly chuckles under his breath before leaning over to place his lips against yours. It was a light, quick kiss, but it brought you feeling ecstatic. You've dreamed of this moment before, and now that it happened, you thanked your clumsiness.

As he pulled away, you were sure your face was a red mess.

"Thank you," His smile was as bright as the stars in the sky. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Thank you for making me like I'm special to someone."

You felt flustered over his words. You were scared that he could hear the sound of your heart pounding loudly. The butterflies in your stomach were going wild, and you felt like this was all a dream.

"So, what am I to you now?" You broke into a smile as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

Jake acted as if he was thinking, "Hm..maybe my best friend still?"

He bursts into a fit of giggles as he sees your smile slowly disappear, replacing it with a look of disbelief. You removed your hand from his and walked at a faster pace away from him.

He ran to match your pace beside you before holding your hand again, "I'm sorry, I won't ever do that again. Is my girl mad at me?"

"Oh my god, it's only five-fifty, Jake." You too broke into laughter over his cheesiness, but your heart fluttered over the thought of Jake calling you his.

HERE’S A LITTLE BONUS! since I've made you guys wait for 4 months :(

"What the fuck?" Was the first thing You heard from Jay as you and Jake entered the classroom. All of your classmates were staring at your and his hands intertwined together.

Jay stood in front of you two, crossing his arms together. "Can one of you explain when this happened?" he motioned towards your linking hands. You and Jake smiled at each other before walking away, leaving Jay in a fit of joy, and confusion.

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