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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

Alone together

Yandere!Dainsleif x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2011

CW: Yandere themes, stalking, possessive behavior, PTSD

Khaenri’ah burns. Skies turn red, as tall pillars of smoke arise in the place of ruined towers. People cry and beg and scream.

“Ah, [First] , you came to help” Lisa greets you, waking up from her half-slumbering state: “Welcome, welcome. I already made some tea for you, just let me”. The librarian stretches and yawns akin to a cat, after she stands up from the counter, flashing you one of her charming smiles afterwards: “Go and fetch it. We will work after the tea”.

Something in her voice leaves no room for argument, so you sit at the offered table, eyes immediately shifting to the nearby window, mostly out of habit. Skies are blue and clear, buildings are whole and steady, people are laughing and cheering outside. It’s a sight that brings you heartache and comfort at the same time - no one should be subjected to what you had to live through, whether they worship the seven or not.

“And here it is”, the witch says, holding a tray with a steaming teapot, cups and a plate of cupcakes resting on top of it. The next fifteen minutes are spent drinking and carelessly chatting about everything and nothing in particular: Lisa is an excellent company, adept at maintaining the conversation interesting and atmosphere comfortable, her wide array of knowledge and keen intellect keeping you on your toes throughout the exchange despite the advantage of experience you happen to possess.

The brief tea party is then followed by the shared work of deciphering ancient documents, the librarian sometimes turns to you asking for the meaning of one word or another - most of the texts are written in Khaenri’ahn or archaic forms of the modern languages.

She doesn’t pry why you happen to possess such intrinsic knowledge on the long dead language, nor does she ask anything about your star-shaped pupils - she must have seen the descendants of your compatriots, then. You know there live at least two - one with tan skin and a warm smile that never reaches his cold eyes and a blonde youth with the powers of khemia rolling under his palms. There’s no courage to approach them.

You in turn share Khaenri’ah’s greatest legacy - knowledge and science that helped your nation to outpace the deities and turn them against you. It’s a nice feeling - making sure that the thing your people cherished the most will not be forgotten, even if it’s given to archon worshippers. Five centuries ago the thought of educating Teyvatians would be laughable to you - there’s no use in it, they will continue to believe in their gods - you would dismiss it, but now nationless you have no choice but to do it - it’s the only way to keep the products of your people alive. To keep the memory of your people alive.

Khaenri’ah burns. You run across the collapsing city, eyes growing wider as you see people slowly morphing into something. It’s bestial and feral, primitive. Your breath hitches, you want to scream.

“[First]?”, it’s Lisa again, she lightly taps your shoulder, a hint of concern creeps into her voice

“Ah? Everything is fine, I just zoned off” you reply, too quickly and too strained to be believable. Who could have known that even after five hundred years the flashbacks of what happened on that day will still haunt you? They trail your thoughts like determined hounds, sneaking up on you in the most inopportune times. One moment you are talking to someone, the second you relive the fall of Khaenri’ah. The memory feels too real to be a fantasy, leaving your thoughts messy, anxious and disordered, as you shake and try to calm yourself.

“Are you sure?”, she stands up from her seat and makes a couple of quick steps to you, taking a good look at your face: you must look horrible, you think, those episodes always leave you panting and on the verge of panic.

“Maybe we should continue tomorrow, there’s no use in haste, it’s not like our documents will run away”, Lisa continues, massaging circles into your shoulder - her hand is warm and comforting, grounding. You want to thank her for this - the understanding tone and the way she caresses you right now, helping you to keep the link with reality, but the words get stuck in your throat - it’s too much and too scary, to admit what just has happened not only to her, but to yourself too.

“Yes”, you finally force out of yourself, nodding along the way: “it would be for the better”. Your voice is still too tense and strained, filled with the grief for the people and places long past, but Lisa, to your relief, doesn’t point out any of it. You quickly gather your belongings and leave the library, almost forgetting to bid a farewell to the witch as you exit.

The sun begins to set as you make your way to the rented house, it’s small and nondescript, a complete opposite of the one you had in Liyue. You used to work as a scholar in the harbor before He found you again - you fled your spacious and cozy apartments in less than a day, leaving almost all of your possessions behind.

The thoughts of what had happened still buzz in your mind - you want to scream and cry, you want to vent to someone, but the words you will utter will be in pure khaenri’ahn they won’t understand you.

You think of finally approaching that star-eyed cavalry captain, Kaeya, maybe he saw what you witnessed too. You think of Albedo, who carries the same energy all khaenri’ahn constructs do. You want to ask him about his creator, you want to talk with him about Khemia. You think of Barbatos who wears the form of the cheerful bard, you want to accuse and scream and hit him.

You do nothing as the power leaves your body the same second - it’s scary, so scary to verbalize that, to talk and share and relive, and approaching any of those three means doing exactly so.

You stay inside instead, calming your beating heart and kicking out intrusive thoughts, and only when your pulse returns to the norm you allow yourself to finally stand up. The world is shaky and unreliable, but some things stay the same. Your room for example - you have a habit of leaving things in specific places, as a way to keep you grounded. There’s a comfort in familiarity - the one you desperately need.

Your eyes shift from one object to the other, until they stumble across something that sends your heart racing again. The cup you use is shifted by a couple of inches, facing you by the opposite side, there’s a flower and a note lying beside it. The words are in khaenri’ahn, the handwriting is familiar too.

Khaenri’ah burns. Your lungs do too from the sheer overexertion and fatigue, but you keep pushing further and further - you can’t give up yet, not when He needs you. A name forms on your lips.

Thousand of thoughts form in your mind, they’re panicked, fast and disjointed - flee again, cut and dye your hair, change the name too - you can start over in Inazuma again, it’s a closed country, so if you will manage to get in, it will be harder for him to track you again.

Who are you kidding?

Unlike you, he has a core of steel, an unwavering determination to settle things his way or die trying - be it opposing Celestia or gaining you. It was always like that, with the Twilight sword being stubborn to a fault - he never budged or surrendered, not when Khaenri’ah was still proudly standing, and not now, when there’s nothing but the charred remains of your homeland.

You met him when you got accepted into the Royal order, where a Konungr paired you with Him. The twilight sword was unrelenting in his pursuits even then, a trait that you both admired and feared in equal volume. The collapse of your nation only worsened this quality - if back then he was striving to supervise and oversee everything, then the tragedy exacerbated his controlling tendencies even further.

You were travelling together for the first fifty years after the fall, both affected by the same curse, as he started getting possessive. It began in innocuous things: asking where you were, what you were doing, you didn’t pay much attention back then, celestial wrath still fresh in your memory - he was just cautious you told yourself, it’s a safety measure.

But then these safety measures grew from simply inquiring about your day to accompanying you almost everywhere, and then it all culminated in Him locking you up, to keep you away from leaving.

You escaped then, and avoided him ever since, departing your residence the second you caught the wind of his possible proximity. Years turned into decades that later morphed into centuries, and you began to grow lax - he was getting closer and closer to you with each turn. The first time you had a suspicion of him being near you packed your things the same second and spent countless days traversing the land by hidden passageways, careful not to leave any traces, and now, now you still sit in your house, despite having evidence of him knowing where you are.

Maybe you grew tired of the cat and mouse game, maybe you just accepted that your recapture is inevitable and all your little escapes do nothing, but set it off for a couple of months, or maybe you’re just that lonely. It doesn’t matter, really, as you make no attempt to do anything - it’s useless, he already knows your location.

Khaenri’ah burns. You cry and you hate yourself - for weakness, for helplessness, for still being alive and sane. He stays near you as a silent shadow, his blue eyes shifting from your crying face to the wreckage of the city. There are no words shared between you that day - you’re crushed and empty, yet bare and aching at the same time.

“Dainsleif”, you greet him, once you hear the squeak of the opening door. He doesn’t look that different from five hundred years ago, but now his eyes are both more tired and alive with fervent light.

“[First]”, he simply replies, your name rolling off his tongue like a prayer - there’s adoration and worship in his tone. He almost falls to his knees, as he takes your hands in his, capturing them in a steel trap.

“[First], I finally have you, [first]”, he murmurs, bringing your palm to his face. You don’t resist him, knowing it’s futile. His skin feels just like all those years ago - rough and dry, weathered down by the demanding lifestyle he leads. He gives a shy peck to your inner wrist, blue eyes intently watching you as he does so.

“Long time no see, Dain”, you start, trying to diffuse the tension in the air, as he grabs you by the chin and forces you into a kiss. He kisses with the desperation of a dying person, one of his hands firmly holding your head, the other starts to explore your body. It feels obscene. You are lightheaded, when he finally parts and hugs you again, still chanting “[First]” over and over again.

You allow him this liberty too, feeling a prick of pity in your heart. You know what it is - to be the sole survivor, too see your own people crumble and fall and transform. You know that he returns to that place again and again, reliving the same moment against his will. You know that he gasps and shivers when the memories get too real and overwhelming.

You both are children of the fallen nation, and there's no person in the world who could understand you better than he does. Maybe, you shouldn't have run, you think, listening to Dainsleif speak in Khaenri’ahn. There's a chain of connection between you two, it's unbreakable, forged in shared losses, tears and pain.

Khaenri’ah burns. It burns in both of you.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere dainsleif x reader #Yandere dainsleif #Dainsleif x reader #Dainsleif #Yandere genshin #genshin impact x reader #Yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Yandere male #Genshin impact #Introverted atheist w/ 0 people skills? I kin #my writing

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the-aggro-crag-car · 2 years

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Awhile bank you mentioned an idea with Lake getting taped but losing their memories and Jesse having to guide them. Can I get a little more about that?

Jesse couldn't believe it actually worked.

For a while there he thought the whole train was going to come crashing down around them, with how everything started falling apart when his number glitched. But it was okay.

Because after the giant screen had frozen on a blinding light behind them, they had managed to find a loophole that One-One would listen to. Denizens couldn't get numbers, but MT was from the mirror world, not the train. There was nothing saying they couldn't at least try and see if it would work.

And it had. Jesse had waited anxiously with Alan Dracula in the tape car as MT was processed, watching a brief flash of some of his friend's memories before finally it tried to give her a number.

And it did. Just one. His own hand settled on one as well, mirroring MT in a way that was probably ironic or poetic or something. She was still asleep, and One-One was insistent that they go retake their seats. It was a little awkward squishing in, Alan Dracula tiny resting on his chest, but he didn't want to wake MT too soon. One-One said there was a whole process after all, it was best to just be safe.

The pod had dropped them off now though, in a large, quiet car, the desert scenery honestly a little unnervingly like the wasteland outside of the train. He couldn't care about that now though, because they were almost there.

The pod stopped, that introduction video starting to play as MT stirred, but Jesse ignored it. They certainly didn't need it at this point.

The slight stirring turned to MT shooting up awake suddenly on a dime, a slightly wild, confused look in her eyes.

Jesse didn't waste a second, immediately wrapping her up in a hug.

"It worked!" he exclaimed excitedly. "One-One sent us back on the train but it's okay because your number is only one! I'm gonna be honest I thought it'd be way more than that. But it's not and you're here and soon we can go home and-"

Jesse was cut off when hard metal hands were suddenly shoving at him roughly, knocking him away as MT jumped back. Before he could grab her she fell out of the other side of the pod in her panic, scrambling to her feet and looking ready to punch the next thing that moved.

Which... wasn't the reaction he was expecting.

"Uh, MT?" Jesse asked cautiously, and it seemed to take her a moment to realize he was even addressing her.

"What's going on?" she asked, and the smile that had been plastered to his face since he saw the number appear on her hand started to fade.

"I was just telling you, it worked. You have a number now. We just need to get it to zero and then we can go home together," he explained, searching MT's face for any sign of relief or excitement or just... recognition.

"I... I don't know what you're talking abou- oh!" MT started, cut off when Alan Dracula licked her hand. "Who are you little buddy?" she asked, petting the deer.

With those five words things were starting to come together, which meant to Jesse it felt like the whole world was shattering.

"That's Alan Dracula," he said cautiously. "He's your friend. I'm your friend. Come on MT, it's- it's been a really long day, I'm not in the mood for this kind of joke," he tried, but it didn't seem to get through. MT was still staring at him like she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Look, I already told you I have no idea what you're talking about. Where even are we?" she asked, and Jesse's eyes would have probably started watering (not crying he wasn't going to cry because even if she didn't know it MT needed him right now) if he wasn't just struck with a realization.

"The tape! It must've took too much, it's never done someone who's not human before," he said, getting more befuddlement from MT.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, and Jesse took a deep breath.

Okay. He could do this. MT had helped him when he was lost and confused, he could do the same for her.

"Sorry, let me start over. My name's Jesse and this is Alan Dracula. You're on a train, it's kind of a long story but all you need to do is get your number to zero and then we can go home," Jesse explained, and this time MT looked down at her hand, taking in the simple number 1 staring back.

"Well that shouldn't be too hard," she said, which was a fair assumption. It was just one digit. It should be easy.

MT gave him a polite, uncomfortable smile, looking so unlike the confident, funny, passionate friend he'd been traveling with all this time.

Jesse had a feeling that this was going to be anything but easy.

#infinity train #jesse cosay #lake infinity train #jesslake #alan dracula #amnesia au #i hope by 'more' you meant drabble #cause here we are

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pigeonp0st · 3 years

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Reader jumped off the cliff in Vormir instead of Natasha 😈

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #8

Words: 2,826

Warnings: Reader dies...angst

Notes:

Thanks you for requesting ;) and thanks to @gaytrashgoblin for proofreading. I had fun with this one...I’ve been having fun writing a lot lately.

————

There’s something sick and twisted about the world's constant need to fail the good people in it. Weirdly enough, that’s the first thought you have when Wanda turns into dust in your arms.

Then, the next;

“We failed.”

———

When Natasha finds you crouched by Visions body and staring lifelessly at, it she pounces on you, wrapping her arms around you more tightly than she ever has before and repeating, over and over again, “thank god.”

She’s sobbing into your shoulder with her relief, and your arms are hovering over her back, frozen. Frozen because you’re in shock, frozen because you don’t feel like you’re you. You feel like you're watching someone else’s life, because the Avengers don’t fail. They can’t fail. They...failed?

They failed, you failed, and too many are gone now. Too many are gone but Natasha isn’t, so you sag into her arms and you clutch onto her as tightly as she’s holding on to you, and revel in the fact that you lost everything, but you still have everything. You have Natasha.

It should be enough...but somehow it isn’t. Somewhere along the way of reluctantly becoming an Avenger you started to want more, more than just her, and you curse yourself now for loving these idiots who risk themselves so much. These idiots who mean too much.

———

Natasha is clingy after the...blip (that’s what people have come to call it). She’s clingy, and angry, and devastated, and you push aside everything you're feeling and do everything you can to take care of her for five years, because it’s much easier to analyze and argue about Natasha’s self deprecating habits than to sit down for a moment and realize that you’re not okay.

It’s easier to pull Natasha in at night when she wakes up from one of too many nightmares and tell her that you’re there, that you’ll always be there, when you’re not allowing yourself to think about how much you wish you disappeared with the rest of them.

It’s easier to yell at Natasha for her drinking than to talk about why some days you’re unable to get a drop of sleep, and other days all you do is sleep.

It’s easier to pretend Natasha’s nightmares are what keeps you up at night, and not the way your skin crawls at the possibility of closing your eyes for a second and not seeing her there.

It’s easier to stand alone in front of the doorway of Wanda’s room, replaying the moment she disappeared over and over again, then to do it with Natasha next to you worrying about whether or not she’s letting you down.

——

Time Travel. Getting the infinity stones before Thanos can get his hands on them.

Hope. Hope for the first time in a long time. You look over at Natasha and notice the spark that's in her eyes, the spark that’s been missing for five years, and feel your own type of hope too.

Whatever happens, you’re going to make sure everyone comes back, but more than that you’re going to make sure Natasha gets to see it.

——

You and Natasha are assigned to get the soul stone in Vomir.

The whole trip up the mountain you feel this unexplainable dread and you don’t know why. You don’t know why until;

“In order to take the stone you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul.”

Natasha is silent and tense as she takes this information in. You begin forming your plan.

——

“We both know what needs to happen here,” Natasha sighs, finally standing up and deciding to stop putting off the inevitable. You glance up at her, not moving an inch other than to tighten your grip on your gun.

You have a plan. A plan that to you seems full proof, but if Natasha goes psycho before you can manage to even say something then you’ll just have to shoot her.

“If you jump off that cliff I'm jumping after you. Titanic style, Nat. Don’t test me,” you pause, narrowing your eyes at the way her own hand tightens on her gun, “don’t even think about trying to physically stop me from jumping because there’s other ways people can die, ways you can’t stop me from when you aren’t here. The Avengers won’t get the stone if I’m given it.”

Natasha tenses again, her jaw locking and her eyes harder and more angry than they’ve ever been looking at you. You know why, it’s totally justifiable, but it still hurts. “Everyone doesn’t come back if we don’t get that stone.”

“Yep.”

“Y/N!” Natasha yells, her voice echoing all around you. “This isn’t a fucking joke, okay? We both know you wouldn’t do that.” Natasha says that but there’s this small barely noticeable uncertainty in her eyes, and it’s all you need.

Natasha won’t jump if there’s even a slightest chance that you’d jump after her. If there was even a slightest chance that you’d fuck up everything everyone has been fighting for, and you wouldn’t—you couldn’t—you think most of her knows that...but nothing in life is certain, and so much uncertainty in something so integral to the mission is too big of a risk.

“You’re...this is your plan, huh?” Natasha says quietly after a moment, wheels visibly turning in her head. “And if I said I'd do the same, if I said I'd jump after you if you didn’t let me do this?” She asks, curious.

You had enough time to think about that too. “You aren’t willing to take the risk that I’m telling the truth when I say I'll jump too. I’m willing to take the risk that you aren’t.”

There’s a long pause where Natasha says nothing, and during it you start to wonder if you read her all wrong. You start to wonder if this is a risk Natasha would take, just to make sure you stay alive, but then Natasha grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pushes you off the log you were sitting on and straight to the ground and you think you’re screwed.

Your instincts have you pointing your gun at her thigh and tightening your grip on the trigger, heart beating a mile a minute, but before you can pull it you feel a tear fall on your cheek.

Natasha’s crying, you realize, heart in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you want to say, “I’m sorry, Natasha. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for not being strong enough the first fight, I’m sorry for not being strong enough for the five years after, I’m sorry for not being strong enough now—strong enough to let you die. I’m sorry for wanting you to live through another death because I’m too weak to do it myself.”

But all you manage to get out is a broken, “Nat,” and you think she understands anyways. You think she understands because she shakes her head roughly and slumps down on you, burying her face in your neck and breathing you in.

“I’m sorry I can’t choose you over the world,” Natasha whispers, voice breaking. And then, angrily; “how dare you?” She asks, pulling away to glare at you so brokenly you start to feel guilt—so brokenly that you're selfishly glad you won’t have to be there for the aftermath of how you destroy Natasha. “How- how could you make me choose when you know…”

She doesn’t finish, just sobs and shakes her head, but you know. You know what she was going to say.

How dare you make her have to choose the world, when you know she wants to choose you.

It’s an admission of defeat that doesn’t leave you feeling victorious.

“You’ve been an idiot before, I can’t risk you being an idiot again. They need that stone,” Natasha gets out between sobs, wanting to explain because she needs you to understand. You already do though. You already do.

“I get it baby. I’ve been too unpredictable,” you laugh but it’s humorless and Natasha only shakes harder. “I’m sorry for all the missions I've sabotaged for you.”

How does one do this, you wonder. How does one just walk off a cliff to save the world, to save the women they love, with the women they love watching. How does one decide when they’ve said all the goodbyes they need to say and are ready, when you don’t think you could ever be done talking to Natasha, when you don’t think you’ll ever be ready to leave her if you’re leaving her alone.

You think you're done and that the world can’t hurt you anymore, but then it hurts you more, and how can you leave Natasha in a world like this one if you’re incapable of showing her it can get better too. If you’re incapable of showing her that there’s beauty in life too.

“Don’t hate people,” you ask quietly, “don’t hate people, or the world, because you had to sacrifice me for it. The world is beautiful, Nat. The world is beautiful,” and as you say it you think back on five years where you were incapable of seeing it and you’re left to regret it all.

That’s the irony of life. You realize things and you see them as they are when it’s too late.

“There’s poetry in life. There’s meaning in everything. Look for it when I'm gone, okay?” You beg, closing your eyes and feeling this. Feeling Natasha on top of you, shaking but there, feeling the breeze, feeling the ground beneath you, feeling the coldness, and the warmth, and everything in between, feeling the beat of your heart, and the breaths you take. Feeling the love. The love that’s there when everything else becomes not good enough.

“Look at the sun when you want to feel me, and listen to the rain when you want to hear me. Listen to the others, you aren’t alone even when I'm not there.”

“Stop,” Natasha pleads breathlessly, squeezing you so tightly you’d be worried about the bruise it’s going to leave later if there was a later for you. “Stop talking. Stop it—stop. You can’t—you can’t. It’s unfair. It’s unfair.”

You nod, opening your eyes again and gently nudging a shattered and broken Natasha off of you. “I was done anyways,” you tell her with a smile, glancing at the cliff you’ll be jumping from. Natasha’s hand holds onto your wrist tightly when she looks at the cliff too.

Her eyes are more expressive than they’ve ever been right now, and you can see how close she is to saying ‘fuck it’ and jumping instead. You can see it in how tense she is, like she’s physically fighting herself to stay, you can see it in the way her breath quickens, the way her eyes narrow like she’s trying to think of another way, and you decide that it’s time to go before she decides she’s willing to risk.

“Close your eyes and count to ten.”

Natasha’s eyes snap back towards you. “I love you,” she says quickly, “I love you so much,” and then she’s kissing you, and pulling back much too quickly , and you're shooting her in the thigh, shooting her because she had this look. This terrifying look on her face that was entirely desperate, crazed, and determined. She was heart over head, when you needed the opposite.

You run towards the edge of the cliff as soon as the gunshot rings out because Natasha is an immovable object and when she wants something a bullet in her leg isn’t going to stop her.

“You’re a real asshole Nat!” You growl out, dodging a grappling hook.

Natasha doesn’t have a lot of long distance weapons on her other than the grappling hook and her gun, and she’s not fast enough to get to you with an injured leg, that’s what you think until she shoots some weird electrocuting web thing at you.

It only takes you out for a couple of seconds, but she still manages to catch up to you in that time.

And now...now you’re scared. Now you’re terrified.

She’s on top of you again, eyes hard and unrelenting as she pushes you into the ground and tries to get up again. You prevent her by wrapping your legs around her waist.

“Natasha! What about Clint’s family?! What about Wanda? What about Peter, he was just a kid, what about—”

“What about you?!” Nat chokes out roughly, struggling against you. “What about you, Y/N, and what about— what about me?”

“It’s either you lose or I lose,” you say softly, freeing your hand from Natasha’s grasp and finding the knife Tony made for you in its safety sheath. It’s hot enough to cauterize a wound—he made it that way because he said you got injured too often—and you brought it just in case. “And Natasha, I’m too selfish and my ego is too big to be okay with losing.”

“There’s no winner here,” Natasha says a moment before you press your scathing knife against her injury.

The yell she releases then is nothing compared to the earth shattering cry she lets out when you manage to escape from under her and leap over the edge of the cliff with one final look over your shoulder and a smug; “I really hope there isn't a hell.”

The whole way down you think of Natasha’s face before you went over the edge, pleading and so unbearably sad. So unbearably unwilling, and not ready to let you go.

Your final thought before you hit the ground is; “The world was really beautiful because of you, Nat”, and then you only have an instant to wish you could have had time to tell her that.

———-

They bring the people they lost from the snap back, but they don’t bring everyone back.

It’s victory, they all know, but it doesn’t feel like victory. It doesn’t feel like victory because Vision is gone, Gamora is gone, Tony is gone, you’re gone, and none of them will ever be the same again.

It’s victory on the back of sacrifice, so it isn’t good enough. It isn’t good enough to be worth celebrating. They’re all just so tired. Natasha is so tired.

They won, but she doesn’t feel that, all she feels standing there is the phantom touch of your hand on her back, and your lips against her ear, asking her to not hate the world, asking for her to look for the poetry of things—but she thinks that if life is full of poetry, then her life is just one tragic poem.

She still tries though. She opens her eyes back up and tries to think of anything other than the way her heart feels so much heavier than it did with half the world gone.

When she looks up at the sky, the clouds and smoke part just a bit and she gets washed in the glow of the sun.

Look at the sun when you want to feel me.

Natasha’s breath catches in her throat, full of too much emotion, and her legs give out from under her, because suddenly the world is beautiful. Suddenly you’re there, and the world is full of poetry too, because there has always been poetry in the way that you have always been there for her when she needed you the most.

“Thank you,” Nat whispers, clutching a hand over her heart and trying to find the words to communicate with you that she needs you forever. That she needs you back. Trying to find the words to say that the sun and rain aren’t enough, but knowing that you realistically couldn’t hear her anyways.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect us from the ugly of the world. I’m sorry I let us live in it for too long,” Natasha thinks, “I’m sorry it was all I could see when you were right there showing me the beautiful.”

———

Wanda is the one to find Natasha after people start wondering where she is. She finds her with her face pressed into the dirt, and oddly enough—the lowering sun peaking through the clouds only touching her.

When she wakes her up Natasha’s eyes are frantic and scared until she looks up in the sky and sees the sun still there. Still on her somehow.

“Are you okay?” Wanda forces herself to ask, even though she knows the answer.

Surprisingly, Natasha nods and laughs, exhausted and delirious. “As long as the sun is still up.”

It’s the closest thing she’s got to you, Natasha doesn’t say.

It’s the only warmth she thinks she’s going to feel for a long while.

It’s the only thing she can find beautiful in the world anymore, even as she tries to look harder for other things like you asked.

It’s the only thing she feels, and the only thing she wants to feel anymore. It’s the only thing she has.

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harveywritings92 · 3 years

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BNHA scenario: you sleepwalk/sleep talk.

Summary: You have a tendency to talk or walk in your sleep, it never really bothered your boyfriend, if you wandered off in your sleep he'd just follow you to make you don't get harmed and take you back to bed, or if you talk in your he'd humor you as he found it hilarious! but tonight was different... this night you seemed to channeled something paranormal and it scares you boyfriend shitless.

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Shigaraki: It was around three am when Shigaraki was woken up by you sitting up in bed, he sighed tiredly assuming you were gonna stand up and walk around for couple minutes then wander back to bed, or you were gonna leave the room and he'll have to go make sure you don't hurt yourself and bring you back himself. After five minutes of you not moving Tomura turned around to look at you...

And was very confused you were obviously still asleep, but you were kind of glaring at something? Shigaraki curiously looked over his shoulder and surveyed his dark bedroom confused at what could be holding your attention and was more so stumped when you slowly lifted up your hand and pointed at the large antique mirror, he had set up near his computer; with this almost frustrated expression. "He won't stop starring..." you deadpanned causing your boyfriend to jump from you suddenly talking...

"W-who won't stop starring?"

"Him, the man in the mirror!

"There's no one in the mirror, y/n"

"The man with no face he's right there...."

You huffed annoyed before laying back down, while Tomura was sitting there looking between you and the mirror shitting brinks! *Wake the fuck up! you think you can just go back to sleep and just leave me on edge like this!* He mentally hissed the froze when he heard a weird scrapping noise coming from the mirror's direction, his red eyes slowly turned to look at the mirror and nearly pissed himself when he saw it the mirror was swaying on the wall right to left, only to stop he made a move like he was gonna get up and check.

"Oh fuck to the no..." he hissed before laying back down hugging you close, Shigaraki nearly smothered you to death with how tight he was holding onto you!

The next day you were confused when you came back to the base to find what looked like a box of glitter and rotten woodchips in the dumpster out back, you went to Shigaraki's room and found the mirror gone! in it's place was a random poster and a shelf filled with video-games, comic books and random liquor bottles, Also you noticed that Shigaraki seemed to be avoiding playing any horror videogames involving ghosts for a while; opting instead to play Animal crossing or Pokémon.

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{Note: Ayane is the default name for the Dabi's daughter reader in the dad scenarios]

Dabi: He was coming in late from a mission, he sat down on his bed taking his boots off and nearly shat himself when he saw a figure standing up in the corner of the room, he quickly turned the lights on to find you just standing there staring dead ahead, he let sigh expecting you to burst out laughing any second now. "Y/n you scared the crap out o-..." You weren't reacting. "Y/n? Fairy?" he stood up and waved his hand in front of your face and noticed your steady breathing, and realized you were sleeping...

Dabi was going to grab your hand when you caused him to jump back, your eyes snapped up to look at him then pointed at the hallway, just in time for Dabi hear giggling and saw what he though was his 2 year old daughter running passed the door. "Ayane?" he called out as he sat you down on the bed and went to get the kid before she hurt herself. "Firefly what are you doing out of-...what the hell?" Dabi trailed off when he saw Ayane peeking out from behind a door, a door that was deadbolted shut, there was no possible way for her to reach the locks let alone open it!

Before Dabi could take another step despite his instinct screaming at him not to, a faint voice whispered in his ear "You not supposed to follow when they call..." Dabi cussed and turned around to see you standing behind him still sleep walking! then you both heard the door "Ayane" was hiding behind slam shut then lock! Scaring the crap out of your husband and waking you and your daughter up, who started crying for you both as she could. "Touya? why am I in the hall-..." You husband didn't answer he just rushed to Ayane's room like bat out of hell!

"Put your shoes and coat on! we're getting the hell outta here!" he hissed at you while carrying Ayane, you did as you were told but kept asking what was going on? "Now!" he barked making you jump from shock, you've never seen him this shaken up before! "I knew this house was too cheap for a reason!" he growled as he strapped your daughter into her car seat, He told you what happened in the car after driving to a gas station a few blocks away, needless to say the three of you spent the night in a roadside motel and the next morning Dabi was looking for the landlord and some priests!

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Izuku: He was woken up by the feeling of being stared at... Izuku woke up and rolled over to see a woman standing over him! He yelped nearly pissed himself before he realized it was you! "Y/n? why are..." his eyes adjusted and he saw the glazed over look in your eyes and realized you were asleep! "What did you have another nightmare again?" he asked getting up holding his hand out to you, but you didn't budge...

His brows furrowed before deciding to try to take you back to your room and got up and went get the door but was shocked to it locked! but if he locked his door then how did you..." Izuku felt his blood go cold as he turned around ready for a fight! only to find...Nothing? but no... Your were just here! he saw you! hell, he felt his hand brush against yours when he got up! he checked his closet, under his bed under his desk, you really weren't there!

Izuku was rightly freaking out as he left his room and went to your room; He started knocking on your door as quietly as possible and waited a few seconds, before he heard you shuffling around as you opened the door rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Izuku?...that's trippy." You yawned as your boyfriend looked at you confused. "w-what do you mean?" he stammered you were looking mighty creeped out!

"I just had a dream I was in your room and you were staring at me not saying anything, not matter how many times I called your name."

"*goes white as a sheet* h-huh.."

"What? what I say?"

"You...what- I just coming over here to tell you I saw the same thing! Except you were one staring! what the crap?!"

You both started freaking out about the whole situation, before Mr. Aizawa found you both out after curfew; giving you a real reason to be scared!

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Hawks: Hawks was up late finishing up reports when he saw his phone light up, Keigo checked and saw it was a photo of you sleeping... he hummed not really thinking about it, assuming you sent it sleepwalking, it wouldn't be the first time this occurred... and he was going to keep working when the blond froze. *if you were sleeping, who the hell took that photo?!* Something was wrong!? Keigo rushed out of his office and made it to your house out of breath.

Landing in your backyard he approached the back door he saw you cat Mr. Pants sitting outside refusing to go inside even when he saw Keigo, he very carefully opened the backdoor door and was about to hit the lights, when something in his head told him that was bad idea! that's when the smell hit him...Gas! the winged man cussed under his breath and made his way to your room, finding you passed out on the bed, phone resting on the nightstand, he grabbed you and ran out of the house; without even checking to see if someone else was there!

He laid you out on ground outside checking to see if you were breathing... to his relief you were! but barely! Keigo called the fire department and ambulance, while he feathers opened some of the windows in your house to air it out! the fire department determined that the cause for the gas leak was your new stove, one of the hoses wasn't properly installed.

Keigo asked if anyone else was in the house? The firemen looked at each other befuddled. "Sir, Your lady friend there was the only one in the house." the blonds brows furrowed as he looked down at his phone to look at the photo only to find it gone! in fact there was no history of you ever contacting him! Hawks thought he was going insane!

The next morning when he went to the hospital to check on you, he told you about the photo and asked who was at your house. "No one, It was just me and Mr. Pants!" you insisted but then remembered something. "Y-yeah I had a freaky dream, I thought I was sleepwalking around the house, but when I got to my room I saw myself passed out on my bed! I thought it was soo weird I grabbed my phone and...took...a" Hawks finished your sentence. " A picture." Both of you were pretty shaken up by this whole situation and decided not to say anything about it, unless someone brings up the topic of "creepiest thing that ever happened to you?" and the ghost selfie is your go to story!

#bnha fanfiction #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #hawks x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #touya todoroki #keigo takami #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #tw: swearing

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

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Readers: We want Red Xiao x Reader x Green Xiao content PLEASE

Exiled: Well yes but actually no

Intermittent

Pairing -> Red/Green Xiao x Reader

Word Count -> 2088

Themes -> Okay, get this: Fluff, Angst, Suggestive scene (but not too bad). It's a trifecta.

Series -> #SojournerSpecials (masterlist)

Credit: @m370N4 for Header

Warnings -> Spoilers, violence, oh gawd there's so many violence

Your lover is going through a phase.

Perhaps you should have expected this much after the things that he's gone through, and the things that he is going through. The Archon War does not pick its victims. Saints and sinners, weak and strong, participants and bystanders; they all have one thing in common, they all can die any day now as the war rages on.

The thought of impending doom puts your heart into great unease as your arms tighten, lips softly pecking the red diamond on the Yaksha's forehead as he sighs in what you hope was relief.

The adepti are strong and aid in this war under the stead of Rex Lapis, but on the forefront of greater danger leads the Yakshas. The fateful battle between Osial and the Geo Archon ended not too long ago to put an end against the Lord's destructive ministrations, but Gods do not die, only slumber; his hatred in great intensities brought forth demonic plague that now haunts the blood bathed lands of Liyue. With his indispensable power and contractual obligation, Xiao became one of the five known Yakshas devoted to conquering those evil.

You were no beast in the battlefield but alongside Cloud Retainer and Ganyu you hold well in ensuring the well-being of mankind, but you only wish there was anything you can do to help the true warriors of the Harbour.

"How are you feeling?" You ran your hands through his chopped hair as his body leans against you, still tense. Xiao produces a strangled groan upon the question, a sound you still have yet to grow accustomed to.

It was a side effect even the glorified Archon did not expect. Yet it was too late to back down from the duties, to turn away from the chaos.

"Still standing, nothing I cannot handle," leaning away from your hold, his honey eyes then sets upon yours in gentle reassurance. Exposed fingers softly brushing against your cheekbone reminiscent of a flutter, so light it sends your heart into a faster pace. "And on your end? I have heard of the mortals establishing a new type of governance, how is it faring?"

Xiao hooks his fingers under your chin in full attention, and the pairing with his tantalizing smile sent your mind melting. "It's going-," your cleared your throat of the strangled pitch you produced and tried again, "Going great! Ganyu made it her duty to oversee it as the secretary."

"That is a fine arrangement." He hums inquisitively but you both know his attention was on somewhere else, what with the way his sharp orbs kept flickering to gaze on your lips. And with how his face was slowly, surely drawing near.

"Indeed, indeed." Breathed you as you closed your eyes, ready to capture his lips for a longing kiss, his other hand rests on your lower back to guide you to his lap—

When the shutter doors slammed open, the interruption causing you to yelp as Xiao embarrassingly hides your head to his exposed chest. That did NOT lessen the warmth of your cheeks.

"Conqueror of Demons! I- I'm sorry to interrupt-"

"Pervases, go on."

"The Yaksha of flames-" A rumbling roar of a scream had all three of you shoot your heads up in alert. And within seconds you had scrambled to your feet, rushing out of the shrine to investigate the commotion. The atmosphere had you choking from the scent of arson, black smoke erupting from the burning grass and natural flora around the area.

But in the middle of the ruins had you almost dispelling the contents of your stomach, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth at the the sight. Besides you Xiao dashes past in a vain attempt to quell the flames— the lick of fire that burned the Pyro Yaksha whole, who screams in both agony and anguish over the deep unknown, skin and clothes turning black and charred.

Xiao's swings barely made a dent to the wall of fire that prevents anyone from coming close to the Yaksha. "Please, leave me alone! Let me go! Stop it!" There was an illusionary sense to her words as she screams at the empty void in front and within her, piercing and aching. You called for her name, shouted, in hopes that she may snap out of it.

Dried up tears came upon her ruby gaze as it flickers over to yours. She heard you. Her lips quivered into those of familiarity and she opens her mouth- only to scream her loudest, one last painful cry, as her body drops as a smoking corpse.

Charred and pure black. Twitching and steaming, but not alive.

You didn't realize you were crying until you felt the comfort of Xiao's hand wiping at your cheek, his red fingerless gloves catching the dampness as you released your sobs.

You didn't notice the gradual decrease of red in his clothing until you looked at him one day without feeling a pang on your chest. When you looked at him with only curiousity upon him calling your name, he offered a smile as he cups your cheek; it didn't feel like the same traumatic time when the Yaksha died, your cheek leaning on his cerulean palm.

It wasn't red. Maybe that's what drove away your thoughts.

"It looks good on you," you mumbled as you watched his now black and green hair sway from the breeze.

"Thank you."

The clouds of Jueyun Karst brings peace to all that gazes on it. That may be the reason why it was Menogias' favorite place to sit by upon finishing her duties for the day, and at times she invites you over when you are done with your own; 'your presence soothes me, it's unfair that Xiao gets to keep you to himself, even if he is your lover!' you giggle at the verbatim the Hydro Yaksha always spouts everytime she drags you away from the other, with a cute yet teasing pout on her pristine face.

Those moments always has you laughing guiltily as you wave to Xiao, who only dons a gentle smile at you two's dynamic.

But she was beautiful and elegant despite her slaughtering hands, with a mind vivid and witty.

And so you find peace next to her, as both of your hands weave cloth into apparels to calm your minds. She had always been an avid fan of stitching and knitting even her own clothes, the only reason you knew how to weave the needle was because of her incessant teachings. Right now she knits a sleeve of beautiful patterns while you took on the duty to make a wooly scarf. Jueyun Karst is cold.

"How are you faring, dear? I have heard you and Xiao-" your hands paused at the implications, "-were witness to the passing of the Yaksha Indarias. Changes are glaring among that of the Conqueror of Demons, but you are a special case who is not under the influence of the karmic binds."

Her cold blue gaze seem to pierce your soul unintentionally and you couldn't bring yourself to look upon them.

You gulped and ceased on finishing the blanket to look at her own work. It was pretty. Tiring and fearful, not just for yourself, but for her too. And especially Xiao.

She holds you close in a soft embrace as you poured your honest confessions; it felt unfair for them to suffer like this, driven to self-destruction or to eternal agony. Menogias strokes your hair affectionately as she reassures your worries.

After all, they knew their oath would come to this.

And they still honored their duties to protect Liyue, for both the mortals and the realm of the Adepti.

"H-How about you?" You sniffled, looking up at her now gentle gaze. "Have you been feeling well? I don't want you to be destroyed by your own mind too."

The Yaksha's gracious smile parts after a pause to finally reply, when a glint from the side suddenly interrupted your peace-

azure pupils dilated upon recognition;

your body flies back upon her powerful push;

blood spurs from her right thigh as a jagged pillar of rock pierces through;

your back and hitting the cliff's compact ground as your vision swims.

No, no, no, no, you recognize that glow even if it was similar to another. Your body whimpers as you struggle to get up, rolling to your side to see the inevitable— the floating silhouette of the Geo Yaksha raises his arm where an orb glows over it, a single eye glows from his shadow...

The last you saw was the flash of neons and black before the world was engulfed by a blinding light.

The next thing you know you were desperately trying not to puke as you cradled the mawled and still bleeding corpse of Menogias, weakly patting her cheeks as your desperate attempts to wake her- to convince yourself that she was still alive. That the spears of stones impaled through numerous part of her body was nonexistent.

Behind you Xiao flicks his head to the side as his mask disperses. His jade spear dripping with blood as her gentle eyes hardened as it squeezes out the tears.

"(Y/N)," your wails turned into whimpers and hiccups, loose arms wrapping around your waist as Xiao pulls you away from the bloody mess. You didn't have the spirit to protest, your eyes still trained on the deceased Yaksha's face as you wept in your lover's arms.

A familiar censer that wasn't there before hangs by his waist.

And when the pain didn't make you weep anymore, a beautifully woven sleeve of blue and clouds adorn his left arm. Those who live after a millenia would not be aware of a reminiscent and deep scar hidden beneath it.

"I was not aware you were out of your domain," the moment he landed, a firm hand grasps your waist to keep you steady on the balcony's railings. Where you're currently perched on, precariously.

You were still unused to the purple cloth that flows behind him. But it matches the wind that comes with him, and the beautiful clashes of colors that makes up who he is now. He was not reminiscent of the red gentleness that he was 2000 years ago, but a teal shadow that lingers at the edges of your vision as a blur.

"I wanted to thank you for purging the malignant monsters that haunted my domain by the cavern," your gaze falls away from the moon as you swing your legs up and over, turning to face the Inn and him yet still remaining seated on the railing.

His eyes were hostile, not at all indicative of the lightness it had long ago. Chest covered in white, and the many memorabilias that dangle with him. Xiao's hands rests on the railing by your side as your fingertip traces the Vajra hanging by his neck, chunky to pointy; Pervases, the name leaves your lips in a whisper.

A guttural growl leaves him in intensity that had you reeling yet still worried for him. Behind his lidded eyes were pure hurt from the fear you conveyed, but he shook his head at all the thoughts that invades. Xiao lets loose a tired yet mocking laugh, "I just remembered something unpleasant."

Before he can turn back to gaze at your ethereal form, you've thrown your arms around his head to pull him against your chest. Your grip and uneven heartbeat alerted him of your will to not cry at his misfortune; such sympathy is wasted on him, yet he wraps his arms around you close in a gentleness that once again reflects his deepest trait.

"...your blessings, not your flaws."

At the sound of your familiar lyrics, as if with a mind of its own, the tension on his shoulders drop immediately into your warmth.

"You've got it all, you lost your mind in the sound;

There's so much more, you can reclaim your crown;

You're in control, rid of the monsters inside your head;

Put all your faults to bed."

Urged the strokes of your hand on his head, the voices quiet into almost nothingness. The Conqueror of Demons smiles again.

"You can be king again."

To the realm of the Adepti and those who knows even the slightest of him, it was nothing to debate about when it is claimed that you were the real reason that the golden-winged king, the Conqueror of Demons— that Xiao still exists today.

If you recognize the song 🤝 big sad

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop @kookieyachi @xiaophilia @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @scarletroseneko

#genshin impact x reader #Xiao x reader #genshin impact Xiao #exile.flower #Angst #Fluff #segcy #Xiao² #I have given in to the temptation #gender neutral #xiao genshin impact #sojourner special

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isabellabrodar · 3 years

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Comfort✖️JJ Maybank✖️

word count: 1277

warnings: none

jj maybank x reader

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I had watched the fire go out until the cold started to creep in and I forced myself to lay down between Sarah and Kie, the sand even colder on my body.

We had been stranded for almost a week now but still weren`t able to build some kind of hut or tent, anything to keep out the clawing hands of the cold nights breeze.

I tried to listen to the waves that were still beating onto the island, but the sound didn`t calm me tonight. It almost drove me mad. I got up again, trying not to get any sand on the others and wake them up, successfully it seemed. The two girls were still sleeping with a peaceful look on their faces. You could even go as far and call this their dream life.

There was a big rock right at the shore which we usually laid our clothes out on in order to dry them. But it was empty now so I sat down, feet dangling and barely touching the water as some of the left over heat from the stone crept up my body.

This was the dream life, the dream life of a Pogue. Surfing all day, sitting by the campfire at night, no one around but the five people you`re closest to. But why did it feel so wrong to me then? After everything we have been through, John B almost being convicted of murder, Sarah almost dying, Pope almost dying, escaping Rafe on the Costal Venture, this should´ve been a relief.

„I would ask you if you can`t sleep but that seems too obvious.“

I broke my stare away from the ocean and looked up to the blonde boy now standing next to me.

„You know that sneaking up on people when they`re contemplating life isn`t polite, right?“ I tried to force a smile on my lips but I knew that he could see how tired I was. He always saw.

„What`s wrong?“ His voice was quiet and it reminded me of all the conversations we had after we thought John B and Sarah had died. We would stay up all night and sit next to each other on the beach or just the porch of the cottage, almost like right now.

„This is our life right?“

„Seems like it. Y/N, what`s going on?“ He sat down right next to me, our legs were touching and he was looking at me as I turned my head back towards the crashing waves.

„I just want to go to school, JJ. I want to leave every morning at the same time, meet you guys in the afternoon, go home to have dinner with my family and do it all over again the next day.“ My hands had started to shake a little and my breath became shallow.

„That sounds kinda boring if I am being honest.“ His blue eyes wandered from my face to my hands and he added: „You can still have that life back. We just need some time to figure it out.“

And there it was. The moment something broke in me and I knew that no one would be able to fix it.

„I can`t do this anymore, J. I am not like Kie who doesn`t need her family because she has you guys. I am not like Pope who just manages to push his college plans a little further into the future. And I am not like you, JJ. I can`t be that optimistic all the time and try to come up with another risky and definitely stupid plan. I just want to feel at home again.“

Tears were now running down my face and my best friend didn`t hesitate to pull my body into his. The crying turned into sobbing, which I tried to keep quiet to not wake the others. No need for everyone to see me break down. My head was pressed into JJ`s chest and I felt it move as he started talking slowly.

„We are your family. I am your family, Y/N. If you want it or not I am there for you and I promise, I will get you back to your normal life, ok? I would do anything for you.“ His words made me look up at him.

„You know it hurts me to see you like this. I mean, I don`t really understand your feelings…This is heaven for me, but…“ He stopped talking when he saw the hint of a smile on my face.

„Thank you, J. Even I don`t understand my feelings.“ I paused a second to think. „I am happy when I am with you. All of you, I mean. But I just haven`t felt safe and at home in a long time.“

JJ`s arms were still around me when I noticed that I felt warm for the first time since leaving the Costal Venture. The sound of the waves was merely noticeable anymore. My breathing was hitching up again when JJ looked me in the eyes. His hands had moved from my shoulders to my cheeks and he gently wiped away some of my tears.

„Can I kiss you?“ I could hear the hesitation in his words.

I broke the eye contact and looked at my hands, which were shaking even worse now. Have I expected him to aks that, to feel this way about me? Definitely not. Have I wanted him to? Since we met in third grade and he punched a kid in the face for stealing my bracelet.

„I don`t think that`s a good idea, J. The others wouldn`t approve, especially with all of us trapped on an island.“

„I don`t give a shit about what the others think and I know neither do you.“ He let his hands fall into his lap. I couldn`t read the look on his face but I knew that I hurt him. And he knew that I was just making up an excuse.

„Sorry, I just think we shouldn`t, J.“

All of our friends knew that there was something more between me and JJ. I was the only person who was allowed to clean the cuts on his cheek after JJ went home to his father and when we were all grieving John B`s death, we usually turned to each other. We didn`t always talk. Sometimes he would just hold me when we went to sleep and I would tell him that everything was alright once he would wake up from the same nightmare every night.

„Can we go to sleep, please?“ I had gotten up quickly, holding myself now in an attempt to get back some of the warmth he had given me.

JJ understood that I wasn`t just asking to go back to our camp, I was asking for him to hold me again. And even though he was hurt after I rejected the idea of us as a couple, JJ got up as well, took my hand and we started walking back to our friends, who were sprawled out next to the small, burnt pile of wood.

When I lay down on the ground like before, I didn`t feel each sand corn and I didn`t hear the beating waves on the shore. I just felt JJ`s body behind me, his chest pressed against my back and one arm thrown over my stomach.

I wispered a small „Thank you“ and closed my eyes. The last thing I felt before finally falling asleep was a kiss on my bare shoulder. It was just a quick peck but I knew that he loved me just as much as I loved him. I wasn`t ready to reveal that to him, though.

✖️I am thinking about writing a second part, but I am not sure yet. Hope you like it. I just loved the idea of this scene and JJ being the readers home without her realizing

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #obx s2 #obx #outer banks #rudy outer banks

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revirushifaa · 3 years

Text

Brothers' children go to school for the first time

This has humor fluff and little angst(or I believe so in Levi's part lol)

Lucifer:

*He knows his daughter has to go to school, can't keep her homeschooled, as much as he's against the idea of separating himself from his child, but after some convinving from Diavolo about enrolling Lucille and the other children in the new RAD Kindergarten that he has built as an addition, he finally relents.

*He's still bitter about it, Lucille has spent her first five years with him. Let's not mention that Lucifer is very possessive father and the idea of sharing his daughter with another teacher that he doesn't know, doesn't work well with him.

*He crouches down in one knee to see Lucille eye to eye, when they finally arrive the kindergarten, sighing.

"Lucille, today you will be going to school. It will be only for a short time and we will see each other again during the middle day... so if you want to cry-"

"Goodbye, Papa. I'm ready to go to my class."

*The small demoness cuts off her father and gives him a quick hug before she carries her lunch box and her backpack all proudly to her class.

*There she goes. His pride and joy walking inside the door... why does he feel his eyes wet? Is he crying?! No way! No. Prideful demon regains his composture and stands up proud.

"Be a good girl. I love you."

*The other brothers have to see Lucifer all restless and jittery back at the House of Lamentation, thinking that Lucille might finally be crying for him and that needs to be there for her. No parent likes to be away from their child for so much.

*When Lucille gets back, bombards her with questions about how her day was, if other children made her cry, he'll go personally tomorrow there and will teach them a lesson. He's not lying there. So Lucille has to deal with a very helicopter dad the rest of the day.

Mammon:

*What? Why should his little son go to school so young?! He's so against it will fight whoever tries to separate him from HIS son. But Lucifer buds in and explains him that it's not a choice he should make, his son needs education outside home. So he has no other choice but to accept the fact that he has to be away from Junior.

"Junior, I didn't want this to happen. But son, you must go there for a few hours... we must separate for a bit. But don't worry, daddy will get you the biggest ice cream after school!"

"D-Daddy, I must go from you?"

*Dear gosh, when Junior's eyes start to well up with tears at being away from his father, Mammon loses it and holds his boy tightly possessively.

"No. No. NO. No, son. You and I will go to the casino and get ice cream together-"

"Mammon?"

*Of course Lucifer won't allow that, he understand the feeling of emptiness without a child, but he has to make sure Mammon doesn't actually make Junior skip school.

*Junior is taken away by the nannies of the kindergarten, as he sees his daddy for the last time(at least for the next few hours) with tears in his eyes.

"Bye-bye, Daddy...."

"JUNIOR!!!!!"

*Lucifer now has to hold a wailing Mammon who struggles to get to his little boy as he sees him being led inside the classroom. It surely will be a long day because Mammon is crying so hard and trying to get Junior back. In the end he hangs Mammon up from the ceiling to prevent him from going to the kindergarten until the calsses are done. Then he's let down and when Junior comes running to him, he picks him up and holds him back protectively, sobbing.

"O-oh, Junior, o-oh, my son!"

Leviathan:

*If you think this dad will accept by choice to let his daughter go away from him, then you're so wrong. Oh ho, in his demon form he threatens to summon Lotan forward while he holds Leviosa in arms.

"Don't think I will leave my daughter to strangers. She IS MY daughter!"

*Of course after a threat from Lucifer to throw his mangas and games, along with consoles in the fireplace to watch them burn, he quickly wises up and ighs in defeat, his little daughter has to go from him.

"I'm so sorry, 'Osa... you have to go to school."

"N-o-o-o-ooo! I don't wanna, I don't wanna, Daddy!"

*Oh sweet Rurichan, he's not prepared to see his little one cling from him and crying loudly. He sniffles and cries with Leviosa as he hugs them to his chest.

"I a-also don't wanna leave you, 'Osa!"

*The both of them throw a scene and everyone's watching at them cry and lament their departure. Lucifer has to forcefully detach Leviosa from Levi, handing her over to a nanny and apologizing for the scandal. He has to hug Levi tightly and try to reassure him that he'll see his child again in a few hours.

*When school's over, Levi practically zooms over and snatches away Leviosa from the nanny and hugs her protectively, checking her all around and threatening to summon Lotan forward to destroy this school if harm was placed upon his daughter. After the first day, Lucifer has to take Leviosa himself to school and keep Levi locked in his room because dear Diavolo, he always threathens to pull Lotan to it.

Satan:

*Sending Sandy to school when he, himself can teach her all what he knows. Stupid. Utter stupidity, he's more wrathful and dangerous.

"I'm not sending Sandy away, Lucifer. You cannot make me."

*After a confrontation between Satan and Lucifer, in the end Lucifer wins and Satan reluctantly accepts to take his daughter to school. Still thinking this idea is stupid, he doesn't want strangers to teach his child when he knows everything to pepper her little smart brain instead of another demon.

"Listen to me, Sandy, today you have to go to school and stay away from me for a little while... be good and don't let other brats bully you. You can beat them up-"

"Satan."

*Of course that wasn't a good advice to give a child. So Satan just let Sandy walk calmly to her class. She was like Lucille who didn't start crying when being led to the classroom, the two of them are really mature for their ages.

*Satan reads the whole morning, but can't help but wonder what his daughter is doing at this time and if he should go check. Absolutely goes to check on her, when Lucifer is busy with holding crying Levi tightly.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you and how you were doing, is it enjoyable or boring?"

"I like it. I can read more here!"

*Pleased with her answer, Satan nods at her with a gentle smile and pats her head, letting her back to class. Stays for the reminder of the school day and gets Sandy with him to the library to get a new book.

Asmodeus:

*Well school is handy when he wants to go to party and can't take his son with him. So with no problem he accepts this and enrolls Cosmo in school with his brothers and their kids.

*Dresses Cosmo in the most elegant and fashionable clothes, so he can be the star of the classroom.

"You look fabulous, my son! Surely you will be the star, don't stop saying that you're the most beautiful! No other child can measure up to your own beauty."

*Cosmo's as narcissistic as his dad so he smiles brightly when he's praised and told this stuff.

"Of course, Daddy dear, I am beautiful just like you and nobody else will match to me. I am the king of beauty!"

*Asmo is really sure about it and hugs his son goodbye. At least Lucifer didn't have to intervene and make Asmo let Cosmo go inside. Asmo goes to party and finds out that this is a party where parents and kids can go but Cosmo was left behind in school, so he sulks the whole party, realizing that he misses his son quite a lot.

*First party that he isn't enjoying at all, checks his D.D.D every second and wonders how his boy is doing. When it is time to get Cosmo back he runs to the kindergarten and sees him covered in golden star stickers.

"See, Daddy dear? I told you I'm beautiful and the teacher gave me all these stickers!"

"Good job, son! I'm so proud of you!"

Beelzebub:

*Sad face. He has to be apart from his little Berith. He doesn't objects and goes with a grim look on his face, holding his boy's hand to the entrance of the school.

"My son, I have to leave you here. Go learn and make new friends."

"Are you ok, Daddy?"

*Berith isn't the one who cries at being away, Beel is crying and wiping at his eyes for he doesn't really wants to say goodbye to his boy and leave him here.

"Yes... I will be. I just don't want to go away from you...."

"Oh, Daddy, it'll be only for a bit."

*Berith hugs his father for abit, but Beel keeps hugging him for more minutes than he's expected too. Until Lucifer gently tells him that he should let Berith go and he obliges, much to his oldest brother's relief. Berith takes his huge lunch box full with lots of food with him going inside his class.

*Beel is left with sadness as he returns home and isn't even hungry, doesn't feel the same when his boy isn't with him, so he sighs. Belphie, comforts him with reassurances that he'll see Berith soon enough.

*When seeing his boy again, he's happy again and takes Berith to McDevil's to get a huge burger and many other food.

Belphegor:

*Well, is he's honest with himself, he loves his twins but he also likes to sleep all morning, so school really is useful in this case. He agrees with not much reluctance.

*It's pretty early in the morning, he's trying his best to not doze off as he walks his twins to the school entrance. He's too sleepy that his words tangle alltogether and he ends up saying something different from what he actually meant to say.

"*yawn* Alright boys... remember this: Drink your school... stay in sleep, don't do milk.... and get eight hours of drugs..."

*Beliel and Beleth grin and nod yes at their father, walking inside the classroom. Lucifer frowns deeply, that's not what Belphie meant to say, so he has to go after those little rascals as quickly as possible and explain to them that their father was just too sleepy to speak coherently.

*Belphie just sleeps throughout the time the twins are in school, not really waking or getting sad because they're away. And before he knows, his twins are napping next to him as Beel has brought them to him, knowing Belphie would still be sleeing to get them himself.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanons #parenting headcanons #demon bros as papas

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Note

For the bad things happen Bingo... burns for villain?

Circle for completed, heart for requested

Thank you so much for the ask!

Quick warning that may need more context than a word or two. In this snippet, Villain saves a child and they are buried. Some may call this "minor whump", but the child is never hurt whatsoever.

I don't know if this exactly fits "burns" but I think it does.

Scathed Skin

@badthingshappenbingo

Warnings: explosion, burns from explosion, broken bones, starvation, fever, buried alive

*not edited*

Fourteen

Villain ran into the next room, greedily scanning the interior.

Thirteen.

He pushed away from the doorframe and sprinted into the next room, but that was also devoid of the assumed ticking.

Twelve.

Villain checked out the next room. A child, young in age and tiny in stature was cowering in a corner, sobbing.

"Hey, hey, hey," Villain soothed, bounding over to the child and picking her up. "I'll be okay, alright?"

"Where's my mommy?" The child cried. "I want my mommy."

"Yeah I know, I know," the villain whispered, rubbing the child's back and hoping that her mother was one of the people who managed to escape.

Eight.

Villain ran out of the room with the child. He couldn't disable the bomb now.

So he ran towards the exit, knowing he would have to jump and somehow break the child's fall.

Six.

The ticking started to get more consistent and more intense. Villain looked up, the exit was only five feet, four feet, three feet...

One.

Villain knelt to the ground, wrapping the child with his arms and legs- his whole body- as an earsplitting boomed sounded throughout his ears.

Pain ripped at his back and he fell forward, careful not to harm the child. She was hysterically screaming now.

Villain groaned as black spots danced at his vision, but those weren't his top concern. The ticking had returned, symbolizing another bomb threat.

Villain pushed himself to his feet, though stability abandoned him after one crisp second. He stumbled over to a wall and leaned against it, still holding the child and breathing heavily.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Villain's ears perked and he turned to exit the building, but found that the exit was decimated. He sighed and took off half-sprinting, half-limping, the other way as agony pierced every cell of his being.

He barely made it to the stairs before he collpased sideways, head banging against the floor, making a hollow thud sound. Stars illuminated the black dust in his vision, making him wince and grimace.

The feeling of wet slowly snapped him out of it. His eyesight somewhat cleared as he felt more in-tune with his limbs- or was it just adrenaline?

The child was crying into his shirt, hugging him madly. He grunted, wrapping his arm around her comfortingly, but that only made her wail harder.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. We are going to be alright, okay?" Villain whispered just as another explosion sent a wave of buzzing discomfort through his ears.

The floor beneath him rattled and creaked before it caved in. Villain and the child fell, but Villain was able to twist around and use his mutilated back to break the young girl's fall.

His body connected with the tile floor. He barely registered the whistle of a kettle before dirt and debris crumbled around him, and inevitable unconsciousness took hold.

He awoke sometime later on his side, cheek pressed into the floor. He groaned and winced in pain as the world flared up around him. Blinding lights shot at his eyeballs as rocks and glass bit into his back.

Villain floated around in that whirlpool of pain as his senses struggled to snap back into it. Memories dabbed at the bruises in his head gingerly.

There was an explosion, then pain, then nothing.

But that was only once sentence that was missing a lot of facts.

He started to become aware of another presence looming over him. It started with the faintest of breezes against his forehead, then a noise like a whimper.

The child.

Villain tried to blink away the haze in his vision, but it only made things even foggier and thick.

"Sir?" The child squeaked when she realized that Villain woke up. "Sir, where's my mommy?"

Her words went right over Villain's head; heck, he hardly came to the conclusion that someone was speaking.

His limited span of sight started to double, then triple as consciousness was snatched away again.

When Villain regained consciousness the second time, he found that he was much more aware of his surroundings.

They were trapped in a somewhat capacious room. Villain's leg was trapped under a wooden beam and was so painful that it had to be broken.

The child was drawing figures in the dust and dirt. Apart from a very dirty face, she didn't appear to be harmed.

But nonetheless, Villain asked out of courtesy, "You good, kid?"

The girl blinked a couple times before nodding. Gosh, she hardly looked ten.

Villain looked around. It seemed that they were trapped in some sort of kitchen. It was very tiny and by some miracle, the various blocks of plaster and heavy metal pipes didn't crush them.

But it did crush the only possible food supply, but the girl seemed to have grabbed a cereal box.

"Hey, give me that," Villain said, trying to pull himself close to the girl, but immediately scream in pain as he tugged at his leg. He collapsed fully on the ground, groaning and somewhat dazed.

The girl pushed the box towards him. It fell over and landed on his face. Villain shakily tipped it over and looked inside.

It was half full. Or empty, depending on how you looked at it.

"Is there anymore food in those cabinets?" Villain asked, nodded towards the dark colored cupboards.

The girl shook her head and pulled her legs in. Her dirty face was tearstained with crusty eyelashes. She had been crying while Villain was unconscious.

"Hey, we'll be okay," Villain soothed as he thrusted his hand into the box. "We are going to have to ration. Ten pieces twice a day, not that we can exactly tell the day."

That wouldn't be enough, but it would have to suffice.

"Okay," the girl squeaked, crawling over and picking out ten cheerios. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." She smiled and popped a couple into her mouth.

Villain dozed off a little after that, back and leg in scorching pain, not enabling a truly restful sleep. The girl also slept, or Villain thought, her back was turned towards him.

They somewhat bonded too. The girl started to talk about her barbie and My Little Pony roleplays and even asked Villain to join. He played along a little bit, awkwardly voicing Applejack, before exhaustion took its toll and he fell asleep mid-sentence.

He was getting sick and he knew it. The pair ate their alloted cereal in silence, both knowing that they would soon run out.

"I'm hungry," the girl complained one day- the first complaint in who know's how long.

Villain gave her a sympathetic smile and pushed half of his cheerios over. He wasn't that hungry anyways.

His head started to hurt as he felt fever set in. He couldn't sleep anymore other than periodic, short-lived black outs. But he always awoke more dizzy and tired than before.

Soon after, the fever started to worsen. He would thrash in his sleep and wake up more entangled than before. It hurt, everything hurt and there was no relief.

The girl was his only source of light. She would watch him with wide eyes, bright gaze never faltering. He would reach for her in half-consious states, desperate to know if she was okay.

He quit eating entirely, allowing the girl all the food, but still she ate her twenty pieces a day.

Once, Villain woke up so weak and exhausted that we couldn't even turn his head to look around. He groaned, staring at the floor with a dull gaze.

"Sir? Sir are you okay?" The girl asked, voice thick with sobs. "Are-are you dead?"

Villaim forced himself to peel up his eyes to look at her, but could only keep the look for so long before his eyelids drooped again.

The girl crawled over and picked Villain's head up an inch from the ground. Like a ragdoll, he allowed total and utter control of his head and neck.

"We'll be okay," Villain wheezed, closing his eyes as pressure built in between his eyebrows.

The girl dropped his head just as the fever pulled him under again.

The girl crawled back to her spot, laid down, and also took a nap.

Neither knew of the rescue team just feet above them.

#bad things happen bingo #injured villain #self sacrifice #feverish villain #broken bones #explosion #tw burns #writing #villain whumpee #villain caretaker #child whumpee #not really #but just in case

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gremlintheslut · 1 year

Text

Forever theirs

Part one

Series master list

Don't reupload, translate or do anything like that without permission from me

words 1105.

18+ read at your own risk w

Warnings: breaking and entering, smut, fingering, clit stimulation, orgasm denial, noncon (technically), watching without consent. Fem and afab reader

Summary

An incubus by the name of fin Balor pops into y/n life. She doesn't accept his advances afraid he would be like the last one that she knew.

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The walk home from work feels longer every time. no matter how many new shortcuts I find. I try to focus on the fact that soon I'll be able to take my heels off and put my feet up, instead of the fact my legs are killing me.

I turn right, into an alley I recently started using as a shortcut. As I do I walk straight into someone. "sorry" I apologize instantly. "it's alright I wasn't looking where I was going" I hear his Irish voice reply as he helps me up. I thank him for helping me and continue to walk.

The next five minutes feel like hours. I finally see my home from the end of the street. I let out a small sigh of relief to myself as I approach. The last few weeks have been hell. My bitch of a co-worker just got promoted to manager so she is my boss now. Said boss has been on my ass ever since she got the position. Not to mention the shit ton of family stuff going on that she thinks is her business.

Every time I walk into work a second late she makes a snarky comment about how she doesn't blame me for being late with 'everything going on.' Cunt. she does it in front of everyone as well. Oh, and some of the other bitches there think it's okay to laugh when she does it. I swear to god the next time she pulls that shit I am going to rip those cheap ass hair extensions off of her head.

Finally home I take my shoes off followed by my coat. I don't bother to put them away properly. I'll do it tomorrow. "you should really shut your windows all the way when you're not home" the same Irish voice from before say from across the room.

I am understandably terrified. I take a step back wondering if I could unlock and open the door quickly enough. Would I be able to outrun him? I watch him as he puts something down on my table. "I get that you're scared but there's no need to be," he says calmly. "I think there fucking is. There's a man I don't know in my house" I say hoping he didn't hear my voice tremble.

"sweetheart I'm an incubus I can assure you, there won't be a scratch left on you unless you want" he replies quickly. I've had sex with an incubus before. Edge. He was addictive like a drug. I relied on him after a while and he left I can't let that happen again. "my job is to give relief to those drowning in stress" he explains. Drowning in stress. "I'm not drowning in stress," I say slightly offended. "so it's a no?" he asks. "it's a no," I say flatly. "my card is on the table for when you come around," he said before turning around walking away but as soon as I blink he disappeared.

What a wild fucking day. I pick the card up. It reads at the very top in slightly bigger writing than the rest 'Finn Balor' and underneath "say it three times to get your wish" for a moment I want to test it out but the thought of the awkward conversation that would come after made me seal my mouth.

I walk to my room and change into my pj's I put the card on my nightstand and try to sleep. But, he was right. I am drowning in stress. No the relief he's offering won't pay my bills. I roll over and get comfy. My eyes never opened so I completely missed the man sitting in my desk chair watching me though it wasn't Finn.

I wake up the next day and do the same thing. Brush teeth, change clothes, brush hair, makeup, shoes, consider throwing my phone away to avoid the hundreds of missed calls from my dad, go to work, go home, cry in the shower, and sleep. Except I am woken in the middle of the night to a hand roaming up and down my body. My heart starts to pound as I pretend to sleep.

"I know your awake princess" I hear the man's Irish voice say. "I thought you'd go away when I said no" I comment. "no I can come and go as I please I just can't make you cum without you saying yes," he says before kissing my neck. His hand is dangerously close to my pussy now. He pulls my legs open slightly before sliding his hand under my PJs and into my panties. I whimper. "my, my, for someone who said no you sure are wet," he says mockingly. I can't help it he sounds so hot.

His fingers creep up to my clit and begin to rub small slow circles around it. I let out an unholy sound and he chuckles. Should I say yes? No, no I can't do that again. He can't stay forever I learned that the hard way. What if I just don't rely on him? No, I'll end up doing it anyway. Without warning his fingers enter me and his thumb continues to rub circles on my clit. I let out the most pornographic sound yet.

He sets a brutal pace. Between my moaning and gasping, I can hear the sound of my Juices on his fingers. Fuck. I'm already addicted. No, I can fight it. He hasn't given me relief yet and I already never want him to leave my side. I have to destroy that card when he leaves I think as the knot in my stomach gets tighter and tighter.

I'm clenching around him and bucking my hips up. But then he pulls away. I whine at the loss of contact. "say yes" he says I remain quiet. If it wasn't so dark I'm sure I'd be able to see the disappointed look on his face. The knot in my stomach is completely gone.

He kisses me and the cheek and I feel the warm presence next to me vanish. If I wasn't so focused on him maybe I would have seen the tall woman at the end of my bed watching us that disappeared with him. I roll onto my side and try my best not to feel sad or upset in any way about not getting relief or about edges abrupt leave.

I close my eyes and drift off into a dreamless sleep. No dream is better than one about either of the men I fell asleep thinking about.

-----------------------------------------

Thank you for reading my schedule for this series is on the master list -gremlin

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karlnapity · 3 years

Text

i declare war on my body.

chapter 1: it’s sad to know that we are not alone in this.

(tws: nongraphic self-harm)

punz is the first to come back after the egg is destroyed.

it makes sense; after all, he’s the least connected, the least influenced. he only ever existed on the outskirts of the faction, still the most in control of himself of everyone.

it only takes a few days for him to recover, the red receding bit after bit from his eyes. he spends most of those days sleeping, only waking every few hours to stare at the wall. he tells sam his head feels buzzy, like his thoughts are all out of order, and all sam can do is rub his shoulder and encourage him to go back to sleep.

it’s on the fourth or fifth day he starts to regain any sort of energy, tells puffy a little about what it was like to be under the egg’s influence. he’s allergic to any sort of vulnerability, but no one can deny the way his hands shake, and puffy holds them with her own.

the last of the red bleeds through his tears.

it takes around two weeks for ant to make any sort of semblance of consciousness. he blinks his cat pupils open on the final day, stares sam in the face, and starts to cry. his eyes are still purple-tinted, but sam can’t care less as he envelopes his friend in a hug. ant is mumbling something that sounds like ‘i’m sorry' over and over and over again, and sam shushes him, runs a hand along the fur on his head in a calming gesture from when they were kids.

they stay there for a long time. whenever sam tries to pull away, ant hooks his claws in sam’s armor and doesn’t let him leave.

sam doesn’t say anything about it, just obliges.

it’s a hard and long process, apologizing. punz and ponk speak in quiet, mumbling voices, and no one dares interrupt them. ant begins with puffy, sitting next to her on the beds they set up, and he recounts the story to her.

“i wish i could tell you more,” he says. “but i don’t remember all that much.”

it’s a complete lie, and he has a feeling she knows, but thankfully she doesn’t pry. she just stands, takes his hand, and pulls him to his feet.

his legs are still a bit shaky, but she supports him as she leads them outside.

the vines are gone, and he can’t help but let out a small cry of relief. she grins at him as she leads him to hannah’s house.

the colors are still gone from her house, but as they settle outside he admires the roses that have started to push through the grass once again.

it’s such a wonder to be in control of himself once again. he opens and closes his hands a few times, still relishing in the feeling.

(he’s not sure of the timeline, of how long he wasn’t himself, but he can’t bring himself to ask.)

he looks at puffy, who’s watching him with a complicated expression. he reaches out a paw, and she takes it.

“i missed you,” she murmurs.

he’s been doing a lot of crying in the few short days he’s been awake, but he never seems to run out of tears.

“i missed you too.”

“we were so worried about what would happen to you after it was destroyed. it had such a strong hold on you…”

“i know, i know, but i’m here now, right? everyone’s gonna be ok.”

(it’s a lie. he’s still coasting on adrenaline, on pure unfiltered relief right now, but he knows it can’t last long. he knows they’ll realize they don’t forgive him, and he knows they’ll realize that it was his fault. because it was. he can’t let himself relax for long.)

she doesn’t make eye contact, and he can see her face pinch a bit at that. he feels a bit of a pit growing in his stomach. he almost doesn’t want to ask.

“what is it?”

she purses her lips. “we’re not sure, on bad.”

his stomach drops.

he demands to see bad immediately. it’s a long process, on such tired legs, to get down to the area below. they let him and punz recover on the surface, but puffy said they wanted bad as far from any of the egg’s possible influence as the final vines were being destroyed.

he’s sequestered in a room deep below, and as puffy leads ant down the hallway his anxiety grows.

as much as he wants to see his friend, part of him doesn’t.

a lot of him doesn’t. he stills. he can’t bring his legs to move any more. puffy walks a few more strides before she notices he isn’t behind her, and she doubles back.

she notices his expression immediately. “what’s wrong?”

he struggles to get the words out. he’s been struggling with that a lot, lately. he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he can get it out. it’s still surprising to be able to do so.

“i don’t know if i want to see him.” it’s a painful admission, and part of him fears puffy will immediately call him an asshole. hell, he doesn’t fucking want to see his best friend, one of the people he cares most about, his friend who’s comatose. that’s a bit of a dick move.

but she doesn’t. she rests a hand on his shoulder, and he pulls her into a hug as he hiccups. she rubs his back. they sink to the ground, and puffy holds him close.

“why don’t you want to see him?” there’s no judgment in her voice, not like he feared, and something about it unlocks his words.

“i just… part of it… i don’t want to see the effects, because that’ll make it so much more real.” he bites his lip. “and... we... we did such shitty things together- and i don’t want to remember them- i don’t want to remember how we treated each other- and-”

he can’t breathe. she rubs on his back, murmuring reassurances, and little by little the anxiety in his chest dissipates enough for him to think. he pulls back, a bit, gets a clear look at her face. she gives him a small smile, and he returns it.

“you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. we all get it.” she shifts closer, so they’re sitting side by side on the hallway floor. “it’s a hard thing. you deserve to feel comfortable, first of all. you deserve to put yourself and your recovery first.”

he tugs his knees to his chin. he doesn’t deserve to be first, not after what he did to everyone. puffy’s just being nice. they- his victims- they deserve to be first.

(but does bad count as a victim? he can remember, faintly, being horrible to bad. they fought all the time, he knows that, and not just with words.

the egg pit them against each other, had them fight for everything. he remembers more than he cares to.)

old wounds sting, even after they’ve long since healed. he puts a hand on a faint scar on his arm.

bad doesn’t count as a victim. he shivers.

“ant?” puffy asks gently.

“i don’t want to see him,” he murmurs, as horrible as it feels. puffy nods, pulls him into a brief hug, and tells him to go back upstairs, that she’ll be right behind.

he crawls into bed, and he sleeps for a long, long time.

“how’s he doing?” puffy asks as she enters the room. sam looks up from the bedside, setting his book on his lap.

“no change,” he says. puffy purses her lips, takes a look.

bad’s been sleeping fitfully ever since the egg was destroyed. he was the first to go down, collapsing the moment the final vine was severed. sam speculates the egg was siphoning the most energy from him, considering he was the leader of their cause.

he looks terrible. he’s hardly been able to sleep consistently for over half an hour, still gasping and wrenching in what seems to be pain, and they can’t figure out how to fix it.

he still has vines curled around his arm and face. they can’t find where it’s coming from, and every time they trim it back it returns within hours.

a few days ago they came in to find it seemingly ripped out. he was bleeding, badly, but when they returned with medical supplies it had already grown back.

(they decided to keep a constant watch, after that.)

she touches a hand to his forehead. none of them are exactly sure what temperature demons are supposed to be, but all the same he seems far too cold. she strokes his cheek, pulls away and adjusts the blankets. it’s a bit tough, with his height, but they make do.

he’s so pale. his skin looks almost gray where it used to be vibrant, and the red accents still haven’t turned from white.

(he looks dead. every time she comes to see him she can’t help but reach for his pulse. can’t help but check.)

she leans back, sighs. “ant didn’t want to see him.”

sam frowns. “punz and ponk didn’t, either.”

“he didn’t say much on it,” she continues, sitting beside him. “but he seemed almost… scared, i’d say. he said they didn’t treat each other too well.”

“it’s not surprising, is it? it must have been torture, it’s not surprising to learn it had them be awful to each other. if they were too close they’d find a way to fight back, and it couldn’t have that.”

she nods, putting her head in her hands. sam rubs her shoulder. she leans into his side, lets herself break just a little.

(only a little.)

“i just wish he’d wake up.”

“i know,” he says quietly. “i miss him. we’ve just got to hope it’s soon.”

punz starts out the day with the express need to forget what the fuck happened.

he can’t bear the way they look at him. puffy and sam’s pity makes him sick, and ant’s trying desperately to avoid him at all costs, and ponk still has a hard time looking him in the eye.

it hurts. he wants things to go back to the way they were, but he doesn’t because that was dream. he’s not sure what he wants.

he deserves a fucking break.

he’s not supposed to leave, yet, not without someone to accompany him, but he doesn’t care. the constant care is suffocating, and he just wants to pretend he’s back to normal for five fucking seconds.

so he grabs a bag, a couple loaves of bread, and

his head still hasn’t cleared, and his body is still utterly shot from being stretched to its limits for months, so he can’t run too far, but he doesn’t care.

(the pain is good, means he’s atoning, and when his lungs burn this hard he can’t even focus on memories.)

he coughs, stumbles, and finds himself on the ground. he rolls over, lays flat on his back, and stares at the sky. he wants to scream.

can he not have five seconds?

his brain feels fuzzy again. it’s been hard, lately, to think much of anything beyond a need to escape a mysterious, nonexistent enemy that’s probably just inside his own mind, but he can’t relax, can’t let himself go, can’t concentrate on anything because of sheer fear.

(puffy says it’s hypervigilance, a trauma response, but that doesn’t make sense, because wasn’t he doing the traumatizing?)

none of it makes any fucking sense. he just wants to curl up on the hill he’s found himself on, stay there forever. it’s so hard. he just wants to stay here forever.

he curls onto his side, closes his eyes. everything’s fuzzy.

“punz?”

he jolts, almost screams, but it’s ponk. he can relax around ponk. ponk’s safe. he settles back onto the ground. “you awake, buddy?”

he waves a hand, and ponk grabs it. he feels the other sit beside him.

“you’re not supposed to run, it’s not safe.”

punz grunts, rolls back onto his back. he has to put extra care into making words, now. it’s so much more tiring. he considers just not responding. he does. “yeah.”

ponk sighs. “ok. can you stand?”

it’s a long process to get back to the base.

bad wakes up slowly.

the first time, sam barely notices it. he rolls over, raises a hand to rub on his face, which isn’t too uncommon. the keen of pain that follows is still business as usual, much as it makes sam’s heart ache.

then, all of a sudden, he gasps. his hands fly up to pull at the vine on his face. his eyes are still closed, but he’s crying, sobbing, even, and he grasps with what seems to be his full strength. sam stands, trying to figure out what to do, when the vines fly off with a sickening noise that makes sam want to be sick.

they fall to the ground, and he raises a netherite boot to crush them. it makes a horrible squelch, and sam knows he’ll have to burn the boots later to get the stain off, but it doesn’t matter.

what matters is the blinking, too-dim, barely open eyes in front of him.

sam pulls him into a tight hug. bad makes a sort of growl in the back of his throat that makes sam’s hair stand up on end.

bad doesn’t usually speak in his native tongue, anymore, and sam has no idea what he says, but he doesn’t care.

his friend is alive.

everything hurts so much. every single nerve in his body feels like it’s on fire, feels like he’s burning up from the inside.

someone- sam, it’s sam, it’s sam it’s samit’ssam- is petting his hair, running his fingers through the knots and working them out gently. he’s saying something, but the rushing in bad’s ears is too much to be able to understand anything at all.

he’s so tired. he wants to fall asleep, wants to sleep forever, but the pain is so much that he can’t do more than collapse against sam, let the other man carry his weight. he wants to bring his arms up to return the hug (it’s the least he can do) but he can’t.

he lets out a whine. everything is too much. the world is too bright, his own breathing is too ragged to his ears, even sam’s touch hurts. sam just continues murmuring words bad doesn’t understand and running his fingers through his hair.

the door opens, or at least he thinks it does. he’s not sure. his weight is passed from sam to another and he cries out. he doesn’t want sam to leave him, but this new person talks in a voice that calms him. he feels a warm washcloth on his face and it’s the only thing that doesn’t burn. the person takes his hands and warms them between their own, and the pain eases just a little.

he relaxes, slowly.

there’s still whispering in his ears and he tries so hard to tune it out.

(it hurts.)

he curls in on himself when it grows too loud.

it gets louder. he doesn’t stay awake for long.

#personal #awesamdude #ponk #captain puffy #antfrost #badboyhalo #punz #eggpire #dream smp #mcyt #dsmp

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ronnie-azumane · 3 years

Text

Petty

Oikawa x Pregnant Reader

Heyo! Since there are almost no pregnant reader haikyuu fics to feed my baby fever, I’m here writing this self indulgent piece. For my first one, I decided to write Oikawa x Reader, because I feel like he fits the story best (which by the way, is inspired by the events that went down when my sister was born). So yeah, I hope y’all enjoy! If you want more, my asks are open! I’m always open to feeding into both my and other’s baby fever.

Pairing: Toru Oikawa x pregnant reader

Warnings: Pregnancy; birth; Cursing; Oikawa being a petty bitch, you know, the usual.

Petty is defined as, “Of little or no importance or consequence,” according to the dictionary. And according to you and all your friends, there is only one person in the world that lives up to that definition.

Your husband, Toru Oikawa.

Ever since you started dating the pretty setter, the littlest things would transform him into the petty setter. And of all times, It had to be today.

Earlier this week

The two of you were cuddling on the couch, watching some Netflix original you both stopped paying attention to a while ago. Toru held his hands over your swollen belly, rubbing occasional circles with his thumb. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, sighing at the comforting warmth.

“Hey, Toru, can I talk to you for a second?” You raise your head up and ask.

Oikawa hums in reply.

“So the baby’s coming soon, right?” You ask him as he nods along. “Do you think you could try to look presentable for the birth?”

Oikawa narrows his eyes and stares into your eyes, “What do you mean?” he half-asks.

“Like, for example, if I go into labor while you’re at practice, could you like, I dunno, shower? Put something on other than workout clothes?” you say. Oikawa’s glare stays glued on your face.

After a minute of the stare-down, you finally break the silence, “Look, Toru. Last appointment when you showed up all sweaty and gross, It was kinda embarrassing.”

In response, Oikawa scoots from underneath you and sits up on the couch, effectively ending the cuddle session. You wine at the lack of contact.

“You know what, I guess I can do that much,” Oikawa groans. Happily, you stand up, peck his forehead, whisper a quick ‘thank-you,’ and head to the kitchen to scoop you some ice-cream.

Oh how naïve you were to think that it would end there.

Present

Sleep had been hard to come by tonight. You tossed and turned on your half of the bed as your husband slept soundly next to you (or as soundly he could with you moving so much next to him).

Sighing, you get up to make your way to the bathroom. Maybe a glass of water would help. Ok, it probably won’t, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

After sipping down the water, you stare at your reflection in the mirror. So many friends and family reassured you that you were beautiful, but frankly, you didn’t see it. Maybe it was because they only saw the good parts of you, not the eyebags you covered up with makeup, not the endless layers of stretchmarks that littered your body. Sure, you husband still assures you that you’re beautiful, but that didn’t prevent the insecurities from rising to the surface.

“You know, little one, you’re a lot of trouble sometimes,” you sigh, rubbing your yummy up and down. The baby, in response, gives you a little kick...

…a kick straight to the bladder.

You rush to the toilet to finish your business, sighing in relief as you didn’t make too much of a mess for once. After a moment, a sudden dull pain hit your lower back. This isn’t the first time this happened, you’ve been getting this pain off and on for the past few days. It was just then when it hit.

Those were contractions. You were going into labor.

Quickly, you rush back to the bedroom to wake up Oikawa. Before shaking him awake, you glance at the analog clock sitting on the nightstand. 3:39 am.

“Toru. Toru, wake up. Now,” You whisper harshly as you shake his lip, sleeping body. He groaned in response and turned away, sliding his head under his pillow.

“Toru. I said now. Get up,” you whisper again, shaking him even harder.

“Five more min-” Toru was interrupted by the sound of water hitting the floor.

“Toru, my water just broke, the baby is coming. Get out of bed, now.”

Connecting the dots, Oikawa sprang up from bed.

“Ok, get the bag, I’ll be a couple minutes.” Oikawa said as he made his way to the bathroom.

You grab the bag and set it by the door. not knowing what to do until Oikawa got there you paced around the kitchen. As you walked by the counter, another contraction hit, stronger than those previous. You gripped the counter, trying to ground yourself as your body powered through the pain.

After the contraction ended you looked around to see your husband nowhere in sight. You started to wonder what was taking him so long, so you rushed back to the bedroom.

You arrive to the bedroom to find him in the midst of a shower. The steam and the strong sent of Oikawa’s tea tree shampoo filled your nostrils. Most of the time, this would be a calming sensation, but today was not the day.

“Toru, please hurry up,” You whine, sitting back down on the bed.

“I’ll be out in a minute, babe,” Oikawa sings back. For someone who is about to become a father, he seemed awfully calm, you thought.

After much longer than a minute, Oikawa came out of the shower, donning his gray bathrobe and rubbing a towel through his hair. You sigh in relief, but the sigh is cut short as another contraction rocks through your body.

However, to your surprise, Oikawa doesn’t make his way to the closet, but to the sink. He pulls out a razor and shaving cream from the cabinet.

Oh fuck no.

“Toru, what the fuck are you doing?” You ask, your voice strained from the contraction you were pushing through at the moment.

“Shaving.”

“Toru, you and both know you don’t grow facial hair.”

“I have a bit of a stubble coming through, wouldn’t want to look bad for the little one coming,” Toru replied.

It all hit at once.

“Toru, is this about the conversation we had on the couch last week?” You ask.

“What are you talking about? I just want to look my absolute best for Oikawa Jr.” it was, damn that petty bastard.

“Damnit Toru, just hurry up.”

Two contractions later, Toru finished shaving his bare face. He waltzed his way to the closet, causing you to sigh in relief, until he came out holding two different pairs of pants.

“(Y/N), what pants should I wear?” He asks. In his left hand he holds a pair of slacks, in his right, a pair of jeans.

“Toru, I don’t give a shit as to what you wear, just hurry up so I can birth your spawn”

“Oh really? In that case, I’ll go put on my workout clothes!” Toru chirps as he skips to the closet. You groan in reply.

“Just wear the fucking jeans.” You cry out as yet another contraction rips through your body.

“Anything you say~” He replies, changing into the pair of jeans.

You sit on the bed, waiting as your husband takes his sweet time slipping his jeans on, one pant leg at a time. At this point, the contractions have gotten both longer and more frequent. Everything was progressing smoothly, given the circumstances.

“Toru Oikawa, Hurry the fuck up,” you seethed, watching your dear husband as he walked out of the closet with four different shirts.

“Which shirt should I wear? I was thinking this one, but I’m not too sure,” Oikawa held up a white polo.

“Fuck you,” you cried as another contraction hit.

“I don’t have a shirt that says ‘fuck you,’ do you think the store would have one?”

“Toru, if you don’t hurry the fuck up, I will deliver this baby right here.”

“Fine, I’ll go with the polo. Although you could have just said so,” Oikawa whined. He threw the polo onto the bed and waltzed to the closet to put away the other three. Once he finished putting away the shirts, he put on the polo, grabbed a pair of shoes, and the hospital bag. You thought he was toying with you until you heard the jingle of the car keys in his hand.

XxX

”Hello Mrs. Oikawa, lets take a peak to see how far along you are!” The nurse smiled. Already dressed in a hospital gown, you put your legs in the stirrups to allow the nurse to take a look at your progression.

Honestly, you just wanted this examination to be over, so you could order an epidural. At this point, the contractions were frequent and painful.

“How does it look?” Your dear husband asked, only for the color to rush out of his face when he looked at the nurse.

“What’s going on?” you question, but the nurse’s face of shock doesn’t ease your nerves in the slightest.

“Well,” the nurse stutters, standing up and taking off her gloves, “everything is fine, you’re just fully dilated, I’m honestly surprised you haven’t started pushing yet.”

“W-what?” you stutter in disbelief.

“It’s baby time!” the nurse smiles as she pages the doctor to come over.

“No epidural?” you ask, afraid of the answer.

“No time!” the nurse exclaims as she readies the equipment needed to deliver and care for the freshly born baby.

Oikawa started to shiver from the death glare you were giving him. The room almost seemed to drop a couple degrees from the ice in your eyes as you stared at him.

“Thank-you for taking your time this morning. I know the baby is going to appreciate your look, Toru,” your eye twitched.

“Look, y/n, I’m so sorr-”

“Save it” you interrupt. The two of you stay there in silence until the doctor comes in.

“Alright Mrs. Oikawa, ready to push?” The doctor asked.

To Oikawa’s surprise, you clutched his hand and readied yourself for the first push.

“Let’s get this over with.”

XxX

You cooed at the little girl in your arms. Her tiny flailing limbs rested against your bare chest, with the flimsy hospital blanket covering the two of you. Oikawa stood at your bedside, doting at his two favorite princesses. He would avidly deny it, but he did shed a couple of tears whilst looking at the small baby girl.

“She’s perfect,” you whispered as you rubbed the sleeping baby’s back softly with your thumb.

“Just like her momma,” Oikawa cooed, ending his sentence with a kiss to your forehead. ��

“Wanna hold her? You haven’t done skin-to-skin yet,” you asked, for him to answer a littler too quick. After all, who could blame him; he was about to hold his baby girl for the first time.

Quickly, he shed his shirt and folded it neatly on the arm of the chair next to the hospital bed. As he prepared himself physically and mentally to hold the baby, you started to sit yourself up, reaching for the robe you had brought.

Gently, Oikawa reached out to pick up the small baby girl. She was just so tiny, about the size (if not smaller) than the volleyballs he’s used to serving across the net. Little hands with little fingers, all with little fingernails and fingerprints. He laid her on his chest, to which she snoozed away.

“y/n, she’s just so perfect,” Oikawa cried. He held one of her tiny hands between his thumb and pointer finger to examine, to which she instinctively squeezed his thumb. At that moment was when his heart melted.

“Well, I’m glad you like her,” you yawned, lying back down to catch up on some sleep.

Oikawa’s hands have migrated from the baby’s hand to the back of her head, rubbing his thumb over her forehead. Everything was perfect. Everything was peaceful.

“Toru?” you called out for groggily.

“Yes?”

“I’m still mad at you,” you said as you drifted off to sleep. Oikawa sighed. Any punishment was worth being able to hold his little princess in his arms.

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bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Night Changes [One]

Night Changes Series Masterlist

Summary: It may have been years since Poe and the reader have seen one another, but that doesn’t make the emotional upheaval any easier to navigate for either of them.

Warnings: Fuck ton of angst, language, a lot of feelings, mentions of death and loss, grief. WC-5,780 (Jesus buckle up I guess!)

Poe was dreaming.

Nothing particularly special, but it was a dream nonetheless, a break from the usual nightmares that tended to invade his sleeping mind night after night when all he wanted was to succumb to the darkness for a few hours. The dream was more of a memory, a replaying of a night back on Yavin-4 so many years ago before he and Charlie had gone to flight school.

A night like every other, yet the humid evenings on Yavin 4 always did seem to hold a little mystery, like a warm blanket that wrapped one in a false sense of security; he could do anything. And on that evening, he had snuck some of his father’s good whiskey, the stuff from a planet far, far away, and gone to knock on Charlie’s window in the cover of darkness. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence, though the whiskey was a new addition.

Charlie had answered immediately, a big grin stretching across his face even before he saw what Poe had brought, the relief in that grin piquing his curiosity-why did he seem grateful that Poe was there? When he climbed through the window, he found you were already there, sat on the floor across the small bedroom with your back against the end of Charlie’s bed, your face wet with tears and he understood your brothers reaction.

Before Poe could ask what was wrong, Charlie noticed the bottle in Poe’s hands and tapped it excitedly, “Just what we needed! How do you do it, brother?” His voice was always so loud, but in the Horn household it wasn’t an issue. Your mother was asleep on the other side of the house and even if she did wake, she wouldn’t come in and begrudge a little teen rebellion. Poe really liked her for that, for trusting them, for never making him feel unwelcome.

“Didn’t realize it would come in so handy. What's going on, sweetheart?” The affectionate nickname had been around for years, so long now that he hardly noticed himself using it. He liked the way it tugged the corners of your lips up, even when you were sad. But he didn’t like that you were sad right now, his concern only growing when you pulled your knees to your chest and dropped your head to them, hiding your face and, no doubt, a fresh wave of tears.

You had always hated crying in front of them, for some reason. Charlie never cried, but Poe had no issues with sobbing outright in front of you both. He didn’t understand why you felt you had to hide it from him.

Without speaking, Charlie and Poe sat down on either side of you, your brother taking the whiskey and opening it, taking a small swig and huffing through the smoky burn.“Kid, you tell him.” He used that extra soft voice reserved only for you, his free hand reaching over to pat your foot on the ground next to him.

Poe had his shoulder pressed against yours. He knew you enjoyed how warm he always was, that you thought of him as your personal furnace, cuddling him even on warm days like this because you seemed to forever run a little chilly, or maybe you were just a touchy person and you were that comfortable with Poe.

After a few moments of quiet sniffling, you finally raised your head, setting your chin on your knees and staring straight ahead. “Gus ended things earlier.” You whispered into the moonlit room, your voice wavering somewhat with emotion, though Poe could sense it was more of embarrassment and disappointment of being dumped than that of actual heartbreak.

Poe felt an odd mixture of both anger and relief sweep through him, the latter of which he resolutely shoved away, into the far reaches of his mind to be stubbornly ignored. “That kriffing asshole! Who does he think he is, dumping our girl?” And truly, what the fuck audacity did that guy have? Did he not have eyes? Did he not spend just five minutes with you and feel like he was sitting in the company of a Sun, so bright and warm as you were?

You gave a watery laugh at his words, and Poe felt warmth pool in his chest; he was always good at making you laugh. He saw Charlie’s shoulders sag somewhat with relief upon hearing you, always so protective and yet he had difficulty reigning in some of your big emotions, often looking to Poe for his help.

“He said it was because I’m a prude. Because I wouldn’t, you know,” You broke off, and Poe glanced down at you to see you bite your lip briefly, eyes still forward, “He said there was no point going on dates if I wouldn’t even give him the chance to, and I quote, ‘appreciate your tits properly, at the least.’”

Poe turned to face you fully now, his eyes meeting Charlies over your head. His friend looked just as annoyed as Poe felt, hearing what that skinny piece of shit had dared to say to you. A silent agreement crossed between them then, Gus would be meeting their fists come morning. For now, though, Poe focused on you, tossing an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your hair, “He’s a prize fucking idiot, sweetheart, doesn’t know what he’s losing. Right, Charlie?”

“Exactly. Remember kid, no guy is ever going to deserve you because you are perfect. You don’t need to cry over someone who can’t see how lucky he is you even let him breathe the same air as you,” Charlie added his arm to your shoulders, curving under Poe’s, “Flyboy and I will take care of you, always.” He promised, and you nodded before reaching both hands up to grab each of theirs on your shoulders.

“Thank you.”

And Poe stayed the night, each of you taking turns to sip the whiskey until eventually sleep won out and Charlie crashed on his bed. You and Poe curled up on some pillows on the floor together, your head resting on his chest and even though he knew you were sad, which made him sad too, he couldn’t help but feel truly whole in those moments before sleep took over.

It was a good memory, one which he would have been content to remain in until the abrupt and incessant whirring and beeping of his droid woke him, Poe shooting up in his bed with a shout of surprise. “What? Are we being attacked?”

BB8 came to a stop near the edge of his bed, his noises growing quieter now that he’d woken Poe up.

“Buddy, it’s my day off. You better have a good reason for scaring the living hell out of me-“

The droid beeped again, clarifying his reason for interrupting his rest day. Interest piqued, Poe ran a hand over his face before planting his feet on the floor and leaning towards the droid.

“The new replacement is here? Guess that means the General wants me to come and meet them?”

BB8 confirmed, and now his alarming wake-up made more sense. The droid was as excited as Poe to meet his new second in command. He’d just lost his long-time friend, Jess Pava, to a new unit on an outpost for the Resistance. He’d recommended her for it, at her bequest, because he knew she’d be damn good for the role. But it didn’t make the loss any less disruptive; she’d been gone a few weeks now and he’d had to take on extra duties to compensate.

General Organa had profusely apologized to him a few times now, only explaining that the replacement was due back from a classified mission ‘soon’, and once they were they would be coming straight to D’Qar to join his squadron. He didn’t mind the work, but he was a little miffed that the day the new Major arrived was his only day off.

Poe quickly got himself ready for the day, taking a speedy shower in his fresher before pulling on his khaki’s and button up. Once pleased with his appearance, he stepped out of the fresher and walked toward his small desk area, above which he had a corkboard with a few mementos pinned up, including his favourite picture.

You were standing in the middle, sandwiched between him and Charlie, a big, goofy grin on your face. Charlie was laughing in the photo, and Poe was looking down at you with a fond smile. You all wore flight suits, as it was taking when you had first joined Gold Squadron. Charlie had his arm flung over your shoulders while Poe’s was snaked around your waist. You had your arms wrapped around each of their waists, though Poe remembers how your hand had brushed up his back before the picture was taken, fingers unknowingly leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

He looked at this photo every morning, tapped it once and then carried on with his day. It was the only time he allowed his conscious mind to think of Charlie, of you, and the life he lost in the blink of an eye.

When the door to his quarters opened, Poe saw a few service droids unloading a couple of crates into the room directly across from his. The room where the new member of his team would live. He could see within the unit as the door was open for the droids to carry items in, a few cases already inside the otherwise bare space.

Being careful to step around the droids and avoid falling over his own, who was wheeling excitedly along next to Poe, he made his way to command, hoping the introductions wouldn’t take too long. He had woken up with a big appetite.

And he really needed his morning caf.

“Ready to meet them, buddy?” He asked of his droid, and BB8 gave a happy little ‘weeee’ as he zoomed along beside Poe. He laughed loudly and BB8 pulled ahead, the doors of the command room opening at their approach.

Poe could see into the room now, activity within quiet enough that General Organa and the new arrival both heard his laughter and turned as he walked into the room. For a few beats, Poe kept walking, his mind not processing what he was seeing because it simply could not be. And then he froze, mid-stride.

It was you.

And from the patch on your uniform, it was now Major Horn.

And just like that, every emotion, every feeling of guilt and self-hatred and heartbreak came roaring to the surface, breaking through the walls he’d so carefully built up around what he’d done when he lost Charlie, when he’d lost you, walls he spent the last few years reinforcing as best he could.

Leia knew of the history, though she didn’t know any details of why neither of you had spoken since that terrible fucking night. She simply knew you’d all grown up together, which was probably why she hadn’t felt the need to warn Poe that it was you coming to take over as his second in command. Maybe she thought you had kept in touch and were expecting her.

Stars, Poe hadn’t seen you in person since the funeral. The night he ruined the best thing he had in his life because he couldn’t deal with his grief and took it all out on you, of all people. Poe thought of Charlie then because your brother and you looked a bit alike, but it was your eyes; you each had the exact same eyes. Though yours were lined with thick, long lashes that would sometimes tickle Poe’s cheeks when you would lean in and press a chaste kiss to them.

It had only been a few years, but so much about you had changed. Gone was the goofy girl with braids falling past her shoulders, her big smile that stretched from ear to ear. No, now Poe was looking at you and you were all grown up, wearing your uniform, hair pulled back into a low bun that was woven with intricate braids, a few wisps framing your face. You had leaned out slightly, though you still had your curves, the ones that had boy after boy falling for you back in the day-no doubt now it was man after man. He found his eyes flicking from your face to your hands, but he saw no ring. Not that he should even be thinking of whether you were single or not.

But somehow, it felt like he should know if you were with someone. Because Charlie would have expected Poe to always keep an eye on you, be there for you. The only person he let down more than Charlie was you. He knew his best friend would murder him if he knew the things Poe had said to you that night. He had never known a greater regret, a regret that he carried with him since the moment he spoke and watched your face contort in pain, as though he’d hit you with a physical blow.

He had wanted to apologize, to take it all back that very moment. He couldn’t believe himself, but you’d pull away to be sick and he was so shocked at how much he’d managed to hurt you that he couldn’t do anything other than listen to you when you ordered him to get away from you.

The irony of that wasn’t lost on him, either.

He’d walked straight to the hangar where his x-wing was parked and took it out, finding a secluded spot a few hours away to camp for two days, just to clear his head. He cried and grieved and then he realized just how badly he’d fucked up and he panicked. He started to plan how he would apologize, what he would do to earn your forgiveness and then tell you how he truly felt. But he failed you, hurt you, and he knew he had a lot of work ahead to repair what he’d broken.

Only, when he came back to base and sought you out, he instead found Jess and Tommy waiting for him by your room, their faces so grim his heart had stopped in his chest, and he’s not sure it ever restarted once he found out you’d left. Without a word or a note, you had just...deserted him.

And he knew he deserved it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Nor did finding out that you’d been clever enough to have your new assignment sealed, eliminating any chance he could have had of going after you.

And he would have. He’d have flown across the galaxy to find you.

Instead, Poe was alone and never, ever forgave himself for being the reason you had fled in the first place.

Eventually, Poe grew enough in rank that he was able to access your private files. He only did so now and again, just to check-in and make sure you were still alive and on active duty. The last time he’d checked had been about five months ago, and it had stated you were on a classified mission that even he couldn’t access the details of. But he knew you were alive and doing well enough that you were getting assigned seriously high-class missions. Charlie would have been so proud of you.

It was a few awkward moments before Poe was able to function, quickly shaking off his shock and continuing forward, his eyes tearing away from your too-blank expression to meet the warm gaze of General Organa. “Commander Dameron, I believe you know Major Horn here. Thank you for coming to greet her with me this morning.” Leia smiled between him and you, and Poe had to swallow before returning it, breaking out his usual grin.

When he looked back at you, he found your blank expression had now morphed into one of utter contempt. An insane part of him wanted to laugh, because how could (y/n) Horn, his best friend since he was a boy, the girl who had owned his heart, ever look at him like that?

Instead, Poe forced a friendly smile, nodding to you politely, “Welcome, Major. It’s...it’s good to see you. And congratulations on your promotion. I’m happy to have you join our team.” He stuck his hand out and hoped you would grasp it.

Your eyes, so much more intense than he ever remembered, searched his face for a second before you took his proffered hand and shook, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“It’s an honour to be here, Commander.” You replied, and Poe had to blink, pulling his hand way almost too quickly. Stars, you even sounded more grown-up. Your voice had always been a little breathy, which Poe had always found alluring. But now it had matured, the breathless way you spoke now demure, feminine.

“I was just telling Major Horn that after you two had met the day was open,” Leia said, seemingly unaware of the tension between her two best pilots, “I know you earned this day off, Commander, so enjoy it!”

Poe couldn’t help but give her a wide grin, “Thank you, General.”

“Yes, thank you for taking the time to...reunite us, General.” You said, excusing yourself before abruptly walking past Poe and out of command.

He rushed after you, BB8 still at his side, now beeping in confusion at what the hell was going on. Poe ignored the droid, catching up to you just down the hall. “Wait...(y/n)...”

He trailed off, unsure of what he could even say to you, questioning why he’d stopped your departure. You ceased walking and turned to look at Poe, your expression now openly hostile, which he knew he deserved yet it still stung. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as he stood before you, a huge part of him wishing you’d start yelling at him. Or hitting him.

Instead, you gazed up at Poe and after a moment your face fell, a storm of emotions rolling across your pretty features. You took a careful, measured step back from him, as if afraid he might try and reach out to you. “I didn’t know I was coming here to be on your team,” You didn’t meet his eyes when you spoke, instead focusing on the droid at his feet, “But this is a big opportunity for me, so we’ll make it work.”

You sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself rather than Poe, but he nodded all the same. “Of course. And you deserve it.”

You scoffed, “Thanks so much, Commander.”

“I’ve missed you.”

He didn’t know what possessed him to say that. It was just that one moment you were biting your lip, and then the next you were giving him a familiar look of incredulity that he remembered receiving more than once growing up and he suddenly needed you to hear that he did miss you. Missed you more than you could ever really know.

Poe saw a flash in your eyes before you spun on your heels and marched away, not looking back. He didn’t try to follow you again. He knew there wasn’t a whole lot he could say, not right now when you were both still reeling from the shock of seeing one another again.

And what could he even say to you? Sorry for taking our friendship and smashing it to pieces at the worst possible time? For never speaking to you again because I was too cowardly to try and find you, especially once I realized how deeply I felt for you? And how could he explain how those feelings seemed to develop over such a long time that he didn’t recognize them for what they truly were until you were gone?

Charlie would have hated what had happened between you both. He would have killed Poe, easily, but he’d had also been disappointed in you. Charlie had protected you both that day because you and Poe were his family, and if he found out that his family never spoke again after the funeral? He’d have been livid.

Guilt and regret now at the forefront of his mind, Poe had lost his appetite. Instead, he found the nearest caf machine before hurrying to the flight deck and climbing in his x-wing eager to get off the ground and clear his head for a few hours.

He spent the rest of the morning thinking about Charlie, his heart tight in his chest.

✨

“I’ve missed you.”

You could hit him, you really could. No one was around, either, you might get away with it. But that would be too easy and not nearly as satisfying as you might hope, you knew.

The audacity of Poe fucking Dameron saying he missed you was so infuriating, you briefly considered violence. But you had grown up with him, knew the way he worked even if it had been a few years. You could hate him and still understand him, which meant that he wanted you to give him a strong reaction that he could confront head-on. Scream and punch and cry and he would instantly work to comfort, to apologize, but it was really just a way to make himself feel better.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

You spun away-not before seeing the pained expression cross his face-and hurried off. You figured if you still had such a decent read on him, the same went for Poe. He’d always been able to read you, your body language, expressions, hell Charlie usually went to Poe for help when he couldn’t figure out how to support you, comfort you.

You needed some time alone, time to process and figure out the best way to make this work.

When you were invited by the General herself to come to D’Qar, to work under her ‘top pilot and most trusted Commander’, you hadn't blinked before saying yes. And you’d known that it would mean, inevitably, seeing Poe again-you knew he still worked here. But you’d had no idea until he walked into command that morning that it was his team you were joining.

When you’d been standing with General Organa in the control room, chatting amicably about the weather, the very last thing you’d expected to hear was his booming, rich laugh. And then the doors had opened, a small droid whizzing in, and his laughter continued as he stepped into the room. You had thought you might pass out, throw up, or start screaming.

With no idea what he was doing there, you had simply stared at him, watched as he reacted to seeing you. Actively working to keep your expression blank, you stared at your once best friend for the first time in years, going numb inside.

In some ways it had been almost comical; he’d frozen mid-step and gaped at you stupidly for a few beats before coming to his senses and continuing forward. And it was at that moment you had realized he was the superior you were meeting. He was the Commander you’d be working under. When he stood directly in front of you, your mind betrayed you by immediately zoning in on one specific thought.

But stars, he’d aged well.

When he finally was able to collect himself enough to wipe the surprise off of his face, it had settled into that easy smile you remembered so well. The one you tried to never think of because of the pain that would build in your chest, the memories and feelings that you had refused to look back on for a very long time now at risk of bursting through your mental walls if you weren’t careful.

Now, that smile revealed a slight crinkling around his eyes, though he hadn’t changed much beyond that. He was just as broad and lean as you remembered, just as handsome and you thought he might be a little more built up, a new layer of muscle moving under his button-up. Charlie would have loved to tease him over the grey flecks you could barely discern in his raven locks, and you suddenly wondered if your brother would have had any grey hair himself.

Those thoughts were fleeting at that moment before fury and sadness and longing were suddenly overtaking you and it was all you could do to remain composed in front of the General when, for the first time in years, you wanted to crumble to the ground. That fucking grin of his, it was always maddening, always so attractive and disarming.

When you were kids, he’d do it to get away with something and even though your parents knew he’d done it, it would work and he’d barely get a slap on the wrist. As teenagers, the strongest memory you had of that grin was one time when he’d climbed into Charlie’s room late at night and your brother wasn’t there-he’d fallen asleep on the couch-so Poe wandered to your room.

You had just gotten out of the fresher, having taken a quick rinse off to cool down, and hadn’t shut the door. Your bedroom door was closed and it was the middle of the night; you hadn’t expected any company. And then Poe just sauntered in, his eyes on your bed where he doubtless thought he’d find you. You had barely had time to freeze, completely naked and mid-stride as you sought a clean nightgown when he seemed to sense you. His head had jerked in your direction in surprise.

That memory forever burned into your mind. The way his eyes had fallen, then snapped up to your face and instead of seeing amusement or a pervy smirk, Poe had slapped his hands over his eyes, cursed, apologized vehemently in a loud whisper, and then he grinned. That grin, just as powerful even though his eyes were covered. It spread across his face and you couldn’t help but laugh despite your embarrassment, quickly throwing on a nightgown before walking over and punching him in the sides a few times, hissing didn’t he know how to knock?

And though you worried it might affect things between you and your best friend, it never did seem to. For you, it did in some ways because you couldn’t seem to get the look on his face (the one that slipped out just before he could properly react and compose himself) out of your head and you wondered what it meant-if anything. He still stayed the night, climbing into your bed, his arms casually behind his head as he laid next to you and told you about his day while never once teasing you.

At one point, when sleep was close, eyes drooping and your cheek resting against his arm, Poe’s soft voice had pulled you from unconsciousness. Barely a whisper, he said, “I really am sorry I came in without knocking, sweetheart. Please forgive me.”

And he’d sounded so concerned, so genuinely stressed that you would be mad at him, you had snuggled closer into his side and murmured your reassurances until eventually, you fell asleep.

Today, however, it was only memories of what that smile used to mean to you and anger for what it was now. That he got to keep that easy fucking grin all these years, it only pissed you off. The logical part of you knew he had been just as surprised to see you and was no doubt struggling himself now, but you didn’t have room to care.

He had been the one to break you, to take your friendship and pulverize it by saying the worst possible things to you.

He had broken you.

That fight hadn’t just been the loss of what you had thought was the greatest friendship in the galaxy. It had been the final moment that took your life from carefree and fun to what it was now, what it had been since. Joyless, lacking, lonely-so fucking lonely.

That had been the night you had to grow up, realizing that not only was Charlie gone, but the life you’d had was too. Gone were the days of adventure, of going on test flights and racing one another, of Poe getting you drinks at the cantina and Charlie sitting with his arm slung casually over your shoulders, until any of you spotted someone who caught your interest. Someone who would only be around for the night but would bring a little pleasure and escape. Charlie was more often the one to go home with such a person, happy to play the field and often making new friends you’d see again, even though he never exclusively dated them.

And the little flare of excitement you’d get each time it was just you and Poe? That had been carefree too because whatever it meant didn’t need to be examined, it just was. Casual touches that lingered and sent heat up your spine, easy and flowing conversation, long hugs even when you’d see each other the next day. All of that had been such a prominent fixture in your life, the slow escalation between you and Poe was something that, to this day, you never tried to understand.

But then Charlie died; everything changed, and you left and never looked back. All the while, Poe Dameron kept grinning like that. Fuck, fuck!

You almost walked straight past your new room, so lost in your thoughts and memories, but thankfully a passing droid greeting you politely pulled to the moment, and you only had to retrace a few steps back. Immense relief washed over you the moment you saw that all of your items had been delivered and unpacked, only a box of mementos and photos left on your desk for you to find new homes for.

Even the bed had been made already. And as much as you wanted to just climb under the covers and shut the world away, you instead set yourself to the task of putting the final touches on your space.

The room was silent save for your occasional gasps and hiccups as you let your emotions run free in the privacy. You proudly displayed the plaque you had been given from the Resistance following Charlie’s funeral; a handsome photo of him in uniform set in the middle, his name inscribed along with his rank, years of life and final resting place on Yavin-4. His flight suit patch was attached to the plaque above the photo, the final touch to a beautiful little tribute to Charlie that you could take with you wherever in the galaxy you went.

The final item you pulled out was a small protective album for photos you displayed in your room. You pulled out the photos, ones of you and Charlie as kids, of your parents, of the whole family plus Poe during one hilariously disastrous little vacation that resulted in all of you returning home and ignoring one another for three days, even Poe. A few from your teen years, early and late, Poe and Charlie usually taking up the most space in the photos between their sizes and huge smiles, and the final photo you had was your absolute favourite.

Smushed between Charlie and Poe, you had a smile on your face that hadn’t been seen in years. It was silly, girlish and youthful and not the person you were anymore. You were looking at the camera, Charlie with his big arm over the top of your shoulders, laughing as he looked toward the camera as well. Poe was looking at you. Giving you a warm smile that you always suspected he only shared with you, one that melted his eyes to pools of warm honey and made your insides wriggle. You remember how his hand burned where he gripped your waist, and you had instinctively traced your hand up his spine in the moment, though you never understood why.

That photo both broke your heart and made you smile every time you looked at it. The last photo of the three of you together, the three of you happy. A photo that not only showed your love for one another but also hinted at that feeling you never did examine. A photo that revealed that feeling might not have been one-sided, not at all.

When you finished your tidying, you took a seat at your desk and used your data pad to pull up your schedule, curious what the days ahead would look like. Right away you could see no missions in the queue, though that could change in an instant. And as eager as you were to get flying, you knew it would probably be best to spend the next couple of days trying to establish yourself on base, meet the rest of your team, and figure out how you were going to keep a cool head spending so much time working with Poe.

With a heavy sigh, you glanced at the clock and decided a late lunch was in order, hopeful that the weird hour would leave the caf quiet. Although you knew you’d be recognized you did hope to push that off for as long as possible.

You needed to swallow back your feelings and face the fact that you weren’t just working directly for General Leia. You were back on D’Qar; a planet that Charlie had spent enough time on, even before you joined Gold Squadron, to make lasting friendships and leave an incredible reputation behind after he’d died. You hadn’t been back since the funeral, so it was inevitable that others would be bringing him up, asking after you, where you had disappeared to, why you’d left without saying goodbye to pretty much everyone.

You needed to suck it up because you had a job to do and your work for the Resistance was the only thing anymore that made your life worthwhile. No family, no close friends, no partners, just fighting the fight and being the best damn pilot you could be.

You wondered if Charlie would be proud of you. Of how far you’d come, of the fact that you were now the same rank as he had been before his death. But after seeing Poe today you knew that wouldn’t have entirely been the case, not with how things all ended up.

So, you reasoned with yourself, that meant that you had to work extra hard here on D’Qar to push aside the history between you and your Commander. And actually, indifference and coldness were probably going to be your best assets going forward.

At least you had a game plan.

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harry-writings · 4 years

Text

Hurt You Just Before You Go

- The one where Y/n picks a date for her divorce with Harry

Part 1

Masterlist

“You know what we should do?”

It was the third night of their honeymoon and they had just got done with a particularly passionate round of love making — leaving them bare and breathless upon the heart-shaped bed, illuminating in the moon’s wake, burning in their desire.

“Hmm... what, baby?” Harry hummed against the crook of Y/n’s neck — which still smelled like cherry vanilla despite his lips making a home out of it not just thirty minutes prior — pulling her body closer to his because he longed for her even when she was as close as could be.

“When your contract is over and it’s just you and me… we should go somewhere — somewhere far away from everything we’ve ever known, somewhere nobody else knows.”

Just the sound of it made Harry’s heart wither and clench, his bones shiver, his muscles ache with temptation because he couldn’t think of a single thing he wanted more than Y/n to consume his life whole — leave behind the life he’d made for himself because none of it meant half as much as she did.

“We could be those people who just up and leave; raise a family, adopt a kitten or two, drink wine on a hammock while the kids are asleep.”

And he was convinced Y/n shared all the same visions he had — all the same hopes and all the same dreams. Because when he pictured his life after his fame faded to nothing but a distant memory, all he saw was her — there was nothing else or nobody else, just her.

But to know he couldn’t have that for another five years made his heart heavy in his chest.

“Don’t tempt me. Please, don’t tempt me.” He begged with his hungry lips — sprawling kisses along her body, anywhere they could touch. “Would do it right this second if I could. Would give everything up to just have you.”

Y/n would kill for it, would sacrifice anything and everything to spend the rest of her life exactly how she was spending it then — the world unturning as she lay helplessly in her husband’s arms.

But it couldn’t always stop for them no matter how badly they wanted it to. Life had to move on, they just hoped they could keep up with it.

“But you’ve got a whole lot of love from a whole lot of people. The world would crumble without you, Harry Styles.”

“Let it.” He asserted without hesitation, his lips against her inner thigh, spreading her open, all for him. “Mine would crumble without you.”

“Our anniversary?”

Y/n can hardly believe the sight in front of her.

She had seen Harry at all his darkest and most vulnerable moments — seen him through all his breakdowns, all his blackouts, all his downfalls — but nothing compares to the broken mess of a man standing at her front door trying desperately to hold himself together.

He’s falling apart at the seams, broken on his feet — his eyes bloodshot and swollen, hair abused, his skin pale and sunken and tearstained — and Y/n has this bloodcurdling feeling swelling in her veins that Harry has completely lost touch with himself.

“You decided to get divorced on our wedding anniversary?”

The words get caught in his throat and knot with each breath he takes, his stomach churning on its own bile because every single part of him is so incurably empty.

Never, in a million years, would he have expected his life to take this sharp of a turn and leave him hanging on the edge without Y/n’s hand to hold. How he’s been breathing and getting through each day is completely beyond himself because he would have never guessed he’d make it that far without her.

But this… this will end him.

Because their wedding anniversary isn’t just another day to make it through, or another plan to make in his already booked-up schedule... it’s the one day Harry looks forward to within his mess of a life — the one day Harry can be unconditionally and unapologetically himself, the one day he feels genuine happiness and fulfillment — because he spends every millisecond of it with Y/n, with nobody’s eyes on them, except for each other’s.

And to lose that would make every other day of his life an absolute living nightmare.

“Baby, please tell me this is some sick joke. You can’t be doing this to me.”

Y/n, now, almost wishes it was, because seeing Harry like this is horrendously unbearable. He is drowning, sinking, falling into the depths of his own hell and she knows she’s the only one that can save him from himself.

But she can’t. No matter how much her hands are shaking and aching to reach out for him, she knows he’s going to find a way to let go again, and she just can’t risk herself for him anymore.

“It’s going to be easier this way.” Y/n whispers beneath the trembling of her frowned lips, because even though she was once so convinced that this was the only way to save themselves from this loss, she’s now having a hard time believing herself.

How is any of this going to be easy?

“If we got divorced any other day, it would —” she chokes out a noise that Harry can only describe to be complete and utter agony, “Harry, it would ruin us. That’s two days, forty-eight full hours of thinking about everything we could have been and everything we’ve lost, and that’s not counting all the time we’ll spend in between thinking about how much we’re going to dread the next date before it even comes.

“We can’t handle that, Harry. Have you seen us? From the second we started dating, the more time we spent with one another — the more time we even thought of one another — made every second apart feel like the end of the world. Imagine feeling that way when we can’t even have each other… it’ll kill us both.”

And despite how badly he wants her to be wrong, deep down, he knows she’s right.

What they have — the feelings they share and the love that’s rooted between them — is unnatural. It runs so deep that it seems to defy all laws of time and space. They become convinced that the world revolves only around each other — that nothing else has a purpose, or a belonging, in their lives.

One look is all it takes for time to falter, for the universe to pause, only for them.

But as years passed by and times started changing, they also became convinced that every problem in their relationship wasn’t a matter of lost feelings or unfaithful love, it was a matter of loving each other too much. So much, that they couldn’t survive on their own.

It was too dangerous and too toxic, but in the most innocent of ways.

“It’ll only kill us if we don’t want it.” Harry croaks out, his tired eyes helpless and vulnerable as they stare into hers, which are just as sad and void as his. “And it is so clear to the both of us that we don’t want this. We can have each other again if you just — please, just let me fight for you.”

He takes a step closer to her, tentatively, because he wouldn’t know how to handle himself if she were to walk away from him again.

“I can’t lose you, baby. I can’t. The second we walk out of that courtroom we — I’ll never be able to see you again, or talk to you again, or touch you. The only thing I’ll have left of you is Topher and I swear to god, every time I look at him it’s going to take everything in me not to run to you, wherever you end up, and I can’t live like that. I can’t fathom the idea of being so fucking far away from you and not having a single clue where you are or what you’re doing — not knowing if you’re safe, if you’re crying, if you need a hand to hold, if you... if you need me… if you hate me.”

It didn’t hit him until now — the possibility of Y/n curing his name and wishing nothing but death upon him, feeling like she’s wasted so much of her life on someone she wished she had ever even met. And that tears him apart from the inside out, his insides twisting and throat pulsing just at the thought of it.

And how could he do anything when all he wants is her?

“All of this started because I couldn’t be your first, and all of this ended because I chose to put you last even though that’s the farthest place you’ll ever be to me. And the thought of you —”

He chokes on his words, his hand reaching up towards his chest to rest upon his hollowed heart, heaving back sobs that are on the verge of crashing over him. And Y/n can’t bear to watch it.

“The thought of not having you, Y/n. I can’t stomach it. It’s just not possible. I can’t.”

He’s not holding anything back, now. He’s falling apart and drowning in the pit of sadness he has yet to escape — his body so desperate for relief it can hardly keep itself up anymore. And the only thing that keeps him from collapsing on the concrete is Y/n’s shaking hand upon his shoulder.

He lets out yet another cry, hunched over, his own hand reaching up to grab ahold of hers. He’d know the feeling of her hand no matter what the circumstances — when she’d surprise him on tour and he’d know it was her hand that touched on his neck before he even heard her voice, or when they were being swarmed by fans and he knew when it was Y/n grabbing his arm and not some random stranger trying to get the best of him.

And how could he find any other pair that could ever come close to holding himself together the way hers does?

Y/n pulls him into her as he weeps his sorrows against her shoulder, hoping that just the hold of her arms are enough to keep him steady… at least for a little while.

But when he lifts his head from her soaked t-shirt to look into her eyes with pure desperation and despair, she knows that it’s not.

“Please baby, let me fix this. Let me be everything you need me to be.. I can do it, all for you. Just, please, let me make it right.”

His breath falters when his eyes make their way to her lips — god, what he’d do to those lips — and his mouth waters at the urge to pull her in and give her everything he has to offer.

She’s right there, so close he can feel her breath on his, and all he has to do is just pull her in until her lips fall right into his —

and they do.

They’re exactly how he remembers them to be — soft and warm, light and sweet — and he whimpers into her mouth, his hands cradling her cheeks as their tongues dance in harmony.

Y/n pulls him backwards and though he is so swooned and out of his damn mind in ecstasy, he follows her movements like a lost puppy because god forbid he pulls himself away from her ever again. He doesn’t even open his eyes because if this is a dream, it’s one he doesn’t want to wake up from.

And what was once so delicate and raw became hot and heavy — their mouths all over each other’s, hands wandering underneath clothes, moans of temptation dripping from their tongues as they make their way to her bedroom.

And they should stop. God, every bit of them should stop but they can’t because how they have shamelessly missed this, and how badly do they want it back.

So they don’t.

2 hours later.

“Where were you thinking?”

Y/n was half asleep as she nested herself against Harry’s naked body — her legs trembling from her previous finish, her red, swollen lips parted around tired breaths, eyes shut around a daydream. She looked beautiful — so beautiful, Harry almost didn’t have the heart to keep her awake any longer.

But he couldn’t help himself… he needed to know before the night took her away from him, because when she fell to her slumber and dreamt of their future together — swinging on a hammock with a bottle of wine, the world fading until all that was left was themselves, surrounded by kids and kittens — he wanted to dream it with her, too.

“Hm?”

Her eyes were still closed, body unmoving, refusing to wake from her slumbered state but also refusing to miss a single word Harry had to say.

“Earlier you said that when my contract is over, we can go somewhere only we know.”

She hummed again, this time, with a warm smile painted on her lips.

It was her favorite thought — really, her one and only thought — and it was the only dream of hers that she ever really, truly believed in. Everything else, to her, was uncertain, but her life Harry was unquestionable and undeniable. They were meant solely for each other.

“Where are we, when you think that?”

She craned her neck against his chest so her lips could peck at his skin, softly, and only once before she rested her head right back to where it laid before.

“Alaska.”

“Alaska?”

Harry pulled slightly away from Y/n with furrowed eyebrows and confused eyes, looking down at her as if to assure himself that he heard her correctly.

He was in disbelief. Not because it was unlike her to think of such peculiar things, but because it really was so far away from everything they had ever known, and one of the only places Harry has yet to see.

How she even thought of it, he’d never understand. But he could never question her dreams or make her feel as though he didn’t want them the same way she did. He only wanted what she wanted.

And as he looked down at her, with her eyes still closed and face still soft, her lips turning upwards, he knew how much it meant to her.

“We don’t have to.” Y/n slurred sheepishly. “Just a thought.”

“No, baby. No, of course I want it, it’s just —” he tucked her in closer to his chest again, afraid he just ruined everything she had been looking forward to. “I’d freeze my balls off, love. We wouldn’t be able to make any babies.”

She giggled, shaking her head softly.

“It’s not cold all the time, y’know. And I don’t know… I just fell in love with the idea of us living without any neighbors or any distractions. We could be by the water, have a view of the mountains, have enough land for our kids to wander off and play. And even if it’s not what we imagined it to be… we don’t need anything outside of us. It’ll still be the happiest we’ve ever been because it’ll be you and me. Just you and me.”

And as she spoke the thoughts that have been floating in her pretty little head, Harry closed his eyes and saw it, too — clear as day, as if his mind had met halfway with hers and went to a universe that was only made for them.

It was then, he knew, that that’s where they belonged.

It shouldn’t feel this way — this ghostly and empty, like being trapped in a room haunted by everything that once was.

Y/n shouldn’t be looking at Harry beside her, naked, with a clench of regret straining in her heart, but that’s the only thing she feels.

Why? She curses herself. Why does he have to make me so weak? Why does he keep doing this to me?

She shouldn’t be loving him like this — like she’d cut herself open just to please him, like she’d ruin herself just to make him feel better — but she is, just as hard and selflessly as before. And the sad part is… she’s never stopped loving him this way, she wouldn’t even know how to.

“You should go home, Harry.” Y/n speaks through the words she feels so heartbroken to say, because she shouldn’t even be saying them at all. “I don’t want to keep you from your day.”

And Harry feels it all again.

The twist in his stomach, the pulsing of his throat, the hallowing of his heart — all surfacing once again even though he thought it was safe to bury away.

“You’re kicking me out?”

He whispers it with a crack in his voice and Y/n wants to take back everything she’s done — letting him beg for her love back, letting him cry on her, letting him love on her. Because now look at where they’ve ended up — naked and broken on a bed that didn’t belong to them, wishing reality could let them stay, hoping this wasn’t goodbye.

But it is. It is goodbye and the last time they could ever be this close again.

“Yeah, Harry. I’m kicking you out.”

She doesn’t want to sound so heartless and cruel but she’s been left with no other choice, she has to walk away from this on her own without finding her way back to him. And she’s learned by now that she’s too damn weak when it comes to his pain — she’d give into him if she were to break.

“This wasn’t my way of coming back to you.”

But, oh, how Harry thought it was.

Sex was never just sex to Y/n — it wasn’t just sex to either of them — especially when it happened with each other. Sure, it got messy, and sloppy, and rough on most nights, but neither of them would have enjoyed it nearly as much if they weren’t so in love.

So why would this time be any different? Why is it that now, so suddenly, it was her way of seeking revenge?

A fresh new wave of tears flood to his eyes, scrunching his face because he refuses to do this again — let her witness another cry, have her bring him to his knees, allow her to watch him break his own bones. The more he does it, the more power he gives her to treat him like this — like a one-night stand unworthy of her days, like a fuck she can only give when it’s convenient for her.

These past two hours have been a whirlwind of emotions for him, yet somehow, they were all too hopeful — thoughts of spending the night together, making love past dawn, playing hide and seek beneath the covers.

And here she is, throwing words around that crush all the rest of his hopes and dreams.

He hits his hand against the mattress, betrayal and deceit coursing so ruthlessly through his veins he feels his skin burn with each beat of his heart — leaving him damned in their nakedness.

“So, what?! You decided to screw me just to even the score?! Get me all over you just to push me away?!”

Y/n flinches from where she lays, her eyes still empty and sunken as she watches Harry hurl himself from her bed and as far away from her as possible. He had hardly ever raised his voice at her, even when she was most deserving of it, and it leaves her gutted and bruised in her wake.

“It’s not like that.” She whispers, though she knows it doesn’t really matter if she says it at all — he’s never going to let this go. “You were so hurt and I couldn’t —” she flutters her eyes shut, “I can’t control myself around you.”

He shakes his head and spits out a laugh so dark it sends a shiver down her spine, his eyes looking anywhere but at her, stepping into the leg of his pants like he couldn’t have been covered fast enough.

He’s angry, so angry and so hurt his hands and legs are numb and the backs of his eyes are stained red, and he’s at a loss of what to do. He’s done everything to deserve feeling this way yet something inside of him is bursting at the seams, desperate to extinguish it.

“So you decide to hurt me more?”

His chest aches and shivers, eyes shut and weep, now wondering if this dream is now a nightmare he’s going to be stuck in for the rest of his life.

And Y/n’s eyes fall to his empty side of the bed, wondering how she’s going to sleep here at night — wondering how she’s going to possibly live through this — after she had just done what she did.

“It wasn’t right, I know that, but I swear it —”

“No, it wasn’t right!” Harry fights back, though it’ll only risk losing her more. “I’m not perfect in this marriage but never once have I used you just to give you a taste of your own medicine! I don’t get you all weak and vulnerable just to spit it in your face later!”

He’s right, he hasn’t, but what an unfair statement to throw at the mess he’s already made of her.

He’s done worse — so much worse — such unspeakable and disloyal things that have left her alone to rot, decompose right in his own two hands until she perished in his ruin, and never once had he gone back on his mistakes. He just left her there, hopeless and afraid.

And she wants to scream it at him — wants to give it all right back to him, make him feel so small for what he’s done, break him down over, and over, and over again just to make him see that her moment of weakness was nothing compared to his moments of truth.

But she’s so much better than that.

“You think you don’t use me?” She breathes out in disbelief, sitting up upon the mattress now, holding the blanket up to her bare chest. “You use me every day. You’ve been using me as an option for the past year because you can’t handle doing your shit on your own!”

He’s still now, letting her words soak and seep into him as she picks and pries at his biggest weaknesses. And he is left defenseless.

“You don’t want this divorce because the second we sign our names on that contract, you’ll be alone just like you were before we met! And you’re going to be terrified looking for somebody else to replace this because nobody has been able to convince you that they love you for you and not for your money, except for me.”

God, why does she have to know him so well? Because even though that wasn’t even close to being the reason as to why Harry refused to pick a date, it was one of his greatest fears.

“So you just keep finding your way back to me because I’m the only love you’ve ever known, and if you lose it, you’re not going to know where to find it again.”

He can’t find it again and he won’t find it again, he knows it’s true. Everything in his life had led him to her, which is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

His world begins and ends with her, rises and falls next to her and there isn’t anybody else that could offer him that much. He doesn’t have to go looking to know that.

“I can only find it in you, you know that.” Harry whimpers out, fingers shaking as he places his hand on the corner of the bed, still reaching for her even in their worst moments. “But you’ve proven to me time and time again that you can throw it all away so easily, like it's meant nothing to you.”

His fingers fist at the duvet, praying for something to save him now.

“So open to dating other guys and make me watch you as you do it, so ready to fuck me just to kick me out at my lowest. And I am so low, Y/n, the lowest I have ever been, but you’ve stooped even lower.”

And he really can’t believe he’s doing this — walking away when he just gave her all the love he could give, saying goodbye when they were just saying how much they loved and missed each other not just two hours ago — but this is what she wants. This is the version of himself she’s created.

And he should really curse her for it, scream and cry and kick and yell, dig her six feet under for messing with him like this. But he’s too betrayed and in too much pain to do anything but run away and find a place for himself to be torn limb from limb until he’s a pile of waste that can no longer be found.

He lets one last sob rip out of him before he looks at her one last time, knowing this is it.

“I’ll see you in fifteen days.”

They should be by the ocean, watching the sunrise from their hotel balcony with a morning drink strong enough to take them both under while they cheers to the three years they’ve lived so happily together as husband and wife.

Topher should be asleep in his grandparents’ bed, getting lost in lullabies, dreaming of his parents’ return. And they should be dancing after breakfast in bed, laughing at the memories that haven’t let them go, singing the songs he wrote just for her.

They shouldn’t be here — sitting in a courtroom drowning in tears they are so worthless at holding back, listening to strangers discuss all the logistics and terms of a broken marriage they know nothing about.

How they have ended up somewhere so dark and deadly is beyond them. This is so unlike them — to willingly sign their names to be free of one another, to allow themselves to move onto other people who weren’t meant for them, to leave behind the life they’ve made for themselves — but this isn’t a matter of whether they want to anymore.

There has been so much damage done to the both of them that staying in this marriage, at this point, would just be cruel and spiteful and selfish. No matter how many sleepless nights they spend craving each other’s hold, wanting to climb out of their own beds and into the one they once shared so nobly, they have to let it all go.

And neither of them can breathe or bear to listen to these lawyers go on and on about what happens now — what will happen when they walk out of the courtroom, how their lives are going to be split, how they’re going to have to take turns spending time with the son they should be raising together as a family.

They don’t care about their lives after this moment in time because it will no longer be lived alongside one another, and that ensured a lifetime of misery for the both of them.

And they can’t even find the heart to look at each other. One look and who knows what decisions they’d make in their fragility. Who knows how far their love could take them to do such nonsense, such childish things.

One look and it’s over for the both of them.

“Mrs. Styles,” Y/n flinches at the name he so pathetically decided to refer to her as. “Your husband has left you with everything. This would mean that custody of Topher, the money, your home in both London and Alaska would be fully held in your possession.”

And suddenly, the room that was once so still and so lifeless begins to spin before her very eyes. The world is spiraling out of her control and her body is in so much shock, the only thing she can manage to do is grip at the edge of the table so tight, her fingers and knuckles turn white.

“Can you repeat that?”

Her eyes are wet, wide, and unblinking as she looks back up at Harry’s lawyer she hasn’t even bothered remembering the name to.

“That last bit. I need you to repeat it for me.”

He coughs awkwardly, his eyes drifting between Harry and Y/n before they finally settle back down to his paper. “Yes, ma’am. Uh, in your possession would be full custody of Topher, the seventeen million euros under Mr. Styles’ name, and your home in both London and Alaska.”

Alaska.

The word strikes her so deep and so unexpectedly, her breath halts in her chest and every muscle in her body buckles against each other.

And how could one word have so much power over her? How could one word make her feel a million different things all at once — leaving her so confused yet so hopeful, so heartbroken yet so fulfilled?

“Our home in Alaska?”

Her eyes are no longer trained on the man who just spoke that very word to her — no, they are now looking directly at the man who seems even more beaten and broken than the last time she saw him, the same man who shared all her wildest dreams.

And though she barely had any composure as it was, the parts of herself that were patched together with needle and thread are rupturing and bleeding out. And Harry has to so helplessly watch as the love of his life starts to crack and shatter at his feet.

“You didn’t, Harry! No you fucking didn’t!”

She punches at the table before holding her head in her hands, sobbing and choking and wailing in her palms. She can’t even imagine how pathetic she looks to lawyers around her but she doesn’t find it in herself to care.

They’ll never understand what that house in Alaska truly means to her, what it’s gotten her through and how much it’s kept her fighting through it all. They don’t know that living in that house with Harry — spending her days and her nights there, by his side until her dying day there — was her one and only dream.

And she had no idea it could have been her reality, until now.

“Of course I did, Y/n.” Harry whispers, his wrists wiping harshly at his red and swollen eyes. “I bought it that night.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Y/n pleads under her hysterics.

“Twenty acres, right by the water, across from the mountains, just like you talked about.”

Her cries only get stronger as she thinks about it all over again. And normally when she thought of it, it warmed her heart and filled her bones up with so much anticipation and impatience she could hardly contain herself.

But now, when she thinks of it, it leaves her cold and empty because it was right there — it was theirs and it was going to happen and they could be there right now and it’s all too much for her to handle.

She’s practically screaming between her hiccups and mewls now, really trying to breathe through the clenching in her chest and the quivering in her lungs but she can’t. And she is so lightheaded she swears she’s going to pass out right then and there, especially now that she’s sobbing so hard her throat pulses around a cry she can’t breathe it out.

And she’s going to die, she’s absolutely sure of it. Her entire body is flushed and shaking and her face is nearly blue — her lungs are collapsing and her heart is failing and she’s crashing out without warning.

And the sight alone brings Harry to his knees, hunched over the floor as he nearly hurls up the bile rumbling in his stomach.

He did this to her — did this to them. He is the only one to blame and that’s what devours him the most.

They could be at that Alaskan house right now, on that stupid fucking hammock drinking wine and making out like two lovestruck teenagers still learning how to be the best versions of themselves for each other. And they could be so drunk they fall to grass below them, dazed in their fits of laughter, falling in love all over again.

But instead they have fallen to the ground in a courtroom so willing to burn them out, wrecked and broken in each other’s arms, trying to remember what it feels like to have a heartbeat.

And all that remains are the two piles of divorce papers that they still have yet to sign.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles preference #harry styles preferences

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totallysharkycomplete · 3 years

Text

Waiting For You Part Five (Ford Pines x Reader) What’s Lost Isn’t Forgotten

“Brother!” Stan calls and walks towards Ford. Ford unexpectedly punches him in the face and begins arguing with him.

She takes a step forward and calls Ford’s name. He looks over at her and his face turns to disbelief, and he lets go of Stan.

He whispers her name. “Is it really you?” All she can do is nod and she runs forwards to hug him. He lifts her and spends her around. “I can’t believe it.” He sets her down and moves his hands to cup her face to pull her up for a kiss. “It really is you.”

Their tender moment was interrupted by Mabel.

She pulls away from Ford, red in the face, having forgotten the kids and Soos were even down here.

Ford is introduced to Mabel, then Dipper who freaks out. He spouts off about how he has so many questions and mentions how he can’t believe you’re married to the author of the journals.

She sits and listens to their whole ‘mysterious backstory’ as Mabel calls it. Enjoying hearing the story from both sides. After the whole situation was over Stan sent the kids off to bed.

She walked them upstairs to give the brothers some time alone to talk. Dipper bombarded her with questions that she happily answered. “No more secrets from me, promise.” She used her finger to cross her heart.

She tucked Dipper into bed then Mabel. “Thank you, Mable.” She smiled sweetly as Mabel looked confused.

“For what?” Mabel askes.

“You said you’d find me a boyfriend by the end of the summer, and if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have my boyfriend back.” She smiles as Mabel's eyes grow wide, as does her smile.

“Thank you too, Dipper. If you had never found the journal we wouldn’t have been able to get him back either. I’ll make sure you get to ask him plenty of questions soon, alright?” She promised and wished them a goodnight.

She comes back down the stairs to see the two brothers arguing and frowns as Stan storms away from him. Walking up to Ford she wraps her arms around him and he does the same. She breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispers.

“I’ve missed you too, more than I can say with words.” He leans down to kiss her forehead.

“Let’s go to sleep.” She takes his hand and starts walking to the bed room.

He turns to go into his old room but she stops him. “There’s no bed in there anymore. When I, um, we lost you, it was too painful to stay in there alone.”

He nods in understanding and follows her to her room. She closes the door behind her and he pulls her into another hug. “Did you really wait for me? For thirty years?”

“Oh course I did, Stanford.” She looks up at him concerned.

“It’s just that, you could have started a new life. You could have had a family.” His face is sad, almost guilty.

“I didn’t want to, Ford. Not without you.” She brought her hand to show him the ring he gave her. “You’re my family.”

He only nods before leaning down to kiss her. She leans into the kiss but feels tears begin to fall from her eyes, overwhelmed with emotions. Pulling away she wipes her cheeks, but sees that Ford is crying as well. They lock eyes and laugh, both wiping at their tears.

“We’ve both had a very emotional day. Let’s go to sleep.” She walks over to the dresser and digs around for a moment. “These are yours.” She states. “I’m not sure they’ll still fit though you look… More built.” She smirks.

He takes the clothes from her and watches and she begins to change into her night shirt. His eyes can’t pull away as she pulls her shirt over her head. She’s still as beautiful as the day he disappeared, but her body is different. It’s softer, with more age lines, but he feels awestruck by her beauty.

“Ford, you’re staring.” She looks embarrassed. “I know I’m not as young and fit as I was but-”

“You’re absolutely stunning. You look different, but in the most amazing way possible.” He assures her.

She nodded and finished changing. Her face turned mischievous as she looked at him. “Now it’s my turn to watch.”

He can’t help the heat that rises to his cheeks. “Uh, right.” He sits down and takes off his boots, and stands to remove his sweater. “Listen, I… The dimensions I visited weren't always friendly. I have some scars.”

“Ford, it’s alright. I expected as much.” She lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

She thought he would have scars, but didn't expect so many. “Oh, Ford.” She whimpers.

Almost his entire torso is covered in scars. She lays a hand over his peck and runs her fingers over one long scar. He sighs at her touch. “I’m so sorry,” she sniffs.

He takes her hand from his chest and raises it to his lips to kiss it. “Don’t think too much of it. For every hostile being I meet, there were just as many friendly ones who helped patch me up.” He slips his shirt on over his head, finding it just a little tight, but would work for the night.

She climbs into bed, with Ford right behind her, and snuggles close to him. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tight. “I love you, goodnight.”

“I love you, Ford. I’m so glad you’re back.” She yawns before falling asleep.

He wakes up from a nightmare and looks around the room. Although a little unfamiliar he knows he’s home. Looking at his side he sees his love gone from his side. His heart still beating fast from his dream he starts to panic, and calls her name.

Right as he does she walks back into the room and closes the door. “What’s wrong?” She quickly makes her way over to him. “I’m sorry, I was just in the bathroom. Are you alright?” Sitting back on the bed she pulls him close to her.

He sighs at the touch. “Just a bad dream is all. Have them quite frequently.”

“You can always wake me up, okay?” She coos, and kisses him on the shoulder. “Can you go back to sleep or do you need to stay up for a minute?”

He can’t help as a yawn escapes him. “I can sleep.”

They cuddle back together, but she stays awake until she is sure he’s asleep.

When she wakes up the sun is shining in through the curtains. She can feel the even breaths Ford is breathing under her cheek.

She shifts her head to look up at his sleeping face. Examining all the details that are the same, and how it’s changed. He still has a strong jawline, if not stronger. The hair on his head is graying, much like hers, and he has wrinkles under and beside his eyes.

She cant help herself from reaching up and running her hand across the stubble on his jaw. His eyes are still closed but he smiles.

He takes her hand and kisses it. “Good morning.”

She responds by moving off his chest up to his mouth to kiss him. “It’s a very good morning.” He kisses her back. “Maybe the best morning ever.”

He chuckles and she can feel his chest rumble under her hand. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Running her thumb over his stubble she smiles. “I can’t believe you got more handsome.” Ford’s cheeks turn red and he looks away. She laughs. “I see you’re still just as bashful.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He pulls her into another kiss, then another, and another. Sitting up, he pulls her into his lap. Now it’s her turn to blush.

There’s a knock on the door and Mabel’s voice sounds from the other side. She calls her name, but adds ‘Graunt’ in front of it. “Grunkle Stan is taking us to the diner! He said if you wanna come be in the car in five minutes or we’re leaving you!” Then her footsteps are heard running down the stairs.

Ford looks down at the woman in his lap. Her hand is held over her mouth, but he can see the impossibly wide smile behind it. “She called me her graunt…” Her heart feels so impossibly full from the simple word.

“Well you technically are.” Ford chuckles. “That seems to mean a lot to you. You must really care for those two.”

She nods. “Ford, they are such incredible kids. I’m excited for you to get to know them more. Dipper reminds me so much of you.” Ford frowns, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. “What’s wrong?”

“When Stan and I were talking last night, well, it was more of arguing, he told me he wanted me to stay away from the kids. I agreed. I also told him he can stay here until the end of the summer with the kids, but after he has to leave, and all this Mystery Shack nonsense ends.” He informs her.

“I, but Ford…” She was unsure what to say. It all seemed so unfair, so she decided to tell him. “That seems unfair to me.” She moved to sit on her knees next to him and took his hand in hers. “I might be being selfish but I just got you back, and now you want Stan to leave? We worked so hard to bring you back, Ford, and while you were gone Stan took care of me.” She sighs. “I, Ford, I was ready to give up but he wouldn’t let me. The only reason he opened the shack was to get money. I was spending every second of every day in the basement. Stan made sure I ate, and slept. He made sure I was taken care of.”

Ford scans her face. “Were you two…” He can’t finish his thought, but she gets what he means.

She can’t help but laugh. “Ford, you’re brother and I were nothing more than friends.” She thinks for a second. “We kissed once and it was terrible,” she laughs again. “But beside you, Ford, he’s my best friend, and your brother. All I’m asking is that you just think about reconsidering.”

His face is stern but he nods. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.” She kisses him. There’s a squeal of car tires from outside signaling Stan and the kids are gone. “So how would you like to spend the rest of the morning?” She smirks.

“Well, I’d like to check on the portal, and my experiments.” He says thinking aloud.

She laughs and moves to straddle his lap, moving her hands to his chest, and kissing his collar bone. “I was thinking we could make up for lost time.”

“I like that idea much more.” He pulls her close.

----------

It’s midday when they make their way down into the lab. As Stan requested, Ford avoids the kids.

They stand in front of the portal.

“This was such a risky move.” He says without thinking.

“It was a risk I had to take.” She doesn’t apologize.

“I’m…” he wraps her in a hug. “I appreciate you getting me home, I really do. I thought I’d never see you again. However,” he looks back up at the portal. “We have to destroy this.”

She agrees and they get to work.

They have the portal about halfway deconstructed when one of the higher up panels starts to sway. Ford notices it moving and looks up, right as it breaks away and begins to fall. She is standing right below it.

“Watch out!” Ford dives towards her and pushes her out of the way, the metal panel making contact directly with his head and he falls to the ground motionless.

“Ford?” A small pool of blood has begun collecting around his head. “Oh my god Ford!” She yells and shakes his shoulder to stir him.

Tears begin to form in her eyes right as he opens his eyes. He looks at her and smiles.

“Ford?” She asks again.

He sits up and grabs his head. “Are you alright?” He asks.

She looks at him in disbelief before moving to check where his head is wounded. “Are you insane? I’m fine, you’re the one who's bleeding!”

“Hey, hey!” He takes her face in his hands forcing her to make eye contact. “I’m alright really, look.” Ford knocks on his head next to where he’s bleeding and there is a loud metallic banging.

She’s still looking at his eyes wide with confusion.

“A had a metal plate installed in my head that way Bill could never enter my mind again. It’s just a little cut, promise I’m alright.” He brushes a tear away from her cheek.

“God, Ford,” she sniffs. “I just got you back. I thought I was going to lose you again.” She pulls him in for a hug, not worrying about the blood that seeps down onto her sleeve.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He jokes and she lightly smacks his shoulder.

She pulls away from the hug to give him a passionate kiss, which he is happy to return.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” She takes his hand and pulls him up. His balance wavers and he grabs onto her shoulder. She helps him sit down in a chair and hurries back with the first aid kit, which she always made sure was well stocked with how much Stan hurt himself.

She begins cleaning his head wound. “You really have to be more careful.” She can’t help but scold him. One hand holds his cheek steady, he doesn’t move and Ford leans into her touch.

“I’d rather I get hurt over you anyday.” He doesn’t apologize.

“I just got you back.” She sighs.

Ford brings his hand up to caress one on his cheek. “I just got you back as well.” He reminds her.

She pauses, not having really thought of it that way, then continues cleaning his wound. “I guess even after all this time we are both just as hard headed.”

When she's done stitching his cut shut she kisses the top of his head for good measure. “There, that should be good as long as you don’t take any more metal panels to the head.”

He beams up at her. “How did you get so good at that?”

“Stan hurt himself a lot while we were working on the portal. I got used to stitching him up since it was faster and cheaper than going to the hospital every other day.” She gives him a sad smile. “Although you were a lot less whiny than Stan normally is.”

He hums in thought. “Maybe taking a break from the portal for a minute would be a good idea.”

“I agree. I’m going to go change out of this bloody shirt first.” She motions down at her blood soaked sleeve.

He grabs her arm as she begins to walk away. She can see the uncertainty on his face. Leaning down she places a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m only going upstairs. I won’t be far.” She looks into his eyes and he nods. “Plus I'm sure you brought back some experiments you need to check on.

She makes her way upstairs and almost makes it to her room before she bumps into Stan.

“Geez, kid, watch where you’re-” He stops talking and grimaces at the blood on her sleeve.”

She looks down and realizes what the problem is. “Oh, don’t worry it’s not mine.”

Stan’s face doesn’t look any less concerned.

“Ford’s fine too, just a little accident. You know how it goes.” She can’t help but laugh.

Stan grumbles something then walks away. An unusually harsh treatment from her normally warm best friend. She brushes it off though and quickly changes. When She’s back downstairs she finds everyone hanging out in the gift shop.

She greets them but only Mable acknowledges her. Stan’s head shoved deep in a newspaper and Dipper’s in Ford’s journal. There’s a moment of silence before Ford bursts out of his lab with a weird octopus-like creature stuck to his arm.

She tries to keep Dipper and Mable behind her for safety but they both peer around her eager to see their new Grunkle. Ford captures the creature easily enough and starts to head back to the lab, but Dipper’s right on his trail offering to help.

Ford turns down his offer before closing the door. Stan gives Dipper a lecture about staying away from Ford.

Dipper points at his newly titled Graunt. “But she gets to spend time with him and do dangerous stuff.”

She frowns. “Dipper, I’m an adult and have been doing this for a long time.”

“You’re still going to watch the season finale of Duck-Tective with us Friday, right?” Mabel checks.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The next week is spent helping Ford disassemble the portal and helping Stan with the shack. She getting ready for bed when Ford comes into the room beaming and gabbing about playing DD&MD that day.

She smiles and sits on the bed. “I’m glad you're spending time with him. He reminds me so much of you.” her smile falls for a second. “But didn’t Stan ask you to stay away from the kids?”

Ford is taking his boots off and he freezes and thinks. “Stan will just have to get over himself.”

She sighs and lays back onto the bed. “I know you and Stan didn’t have the best relationship before you went into the portal, and I knew it wouldn’t be magically fixed when we got you back, but I did hope it would be a little bit better.” She feels the bed shift as Ford sits next to her.

“Mine and Stan’s relationship has been complicated for a long time. Him bringing me back isn’t going to fix it overnight.” He places his hand on hers.

“I know but,” she sits up with a huff. “I feel like neither of you are trying. When summer ends I don’t want to lose my best friend. Stan means a lot to me, and he’s your brother. I wish you would both just try.

Ford looks almost mad for a second before his face softens. “Come here.” He pulls her into his lap. “For you, I’ll try. Promise… Well… I’ll at least try to be civil.”

She looks at him with a pout before she buries her head in the crook of his neck. “Fine.” She whines with a yawn.

The next day she's ready to watch the season finale of Duck-Tective with Mabel, Stan, and Grenda. She smiles to see Ford is sitting cross legged on the ground playing DD&MD just like they did in college and spending time with his great nephew. However her smile fades when Stan and Ford begin to argue. The argument turns for the worst when Stan throw Ford’s bag on dice on to the ground and causes them to scatter. Then they have to go on a ridiculous fantastic quest to save Dipper and Ford.

Afterwards Stan apologizes to Dipper and it warms her heart. He even says it's okay if Dipper spends time with Ford. She was a little disappointed Ford didn’t join them to watch Their show but she understood. After it was over Dipper went to find Ford.

She sat at the table with Stan to have a drink.

“You were very sweet today.” She almost teases Stan.

“Think you got me mistaken with someone else.” Stan grunts as he sits.

“No, the fact you changed your mind to let Dipper spend time with Ford is really sweet. I don’t think I have to tell you how similar they are. Plus I think it’ll be nice that Dipper can ask him questions himself instead of him asking me to ask Ford questions.” She smiles over her glass at Stan.

Stan frowns deepens. “Didn’t do it for Ford. Did it for Dipper. Ford still hasn’t told me thank you, and I haven’t forgotten.”

She groans. “Why do you two have to be like this?!” She almost shouts. “You’re both so stubborn and hard headed. If you two could just sit down and talk about your feelings like real adults I don’t think we’d have a problem.”

“Not until he tells me thank you!” Stan raises his voice back.

She slams her hand on the table and stands up. “He hasn’t even told me thank you, Stan! He’s appreciative to be home but he’s still upset we risked this whole universe for him!”

Stan stands up and opens his mouth to say something but closes it. He is absolutely fuming as he storms away from you.

She stands there for a second more before sitting back down with her face in her hands. Quiet tears fall down her face and she cries alone for a few minutes. Then she feels a hand on her back.

“Darling, are you crying? What’s wrong?” Ford’s warm, wide hand begins to stroke reassuring circles on her back.

She wraps her arms around his neck and brings him in for a hug. “I’ve just had a lot of big emotions this week. Think they’ve finally caught back up to me at once.” She’s not lying, she's had a lot of emotions to work through this week, but she doesn’t want to mention arguing with Stan. It would just make everything worse.

“Why don’t we get you to bed.” Ford suggests and she nods silently.

She tries to stand, but before she can Ford picks her up bridal style bringing a smile to her face. “Ford, I can walk.”

He kisses her forehead. “I know. But you’ve done so much for me, let me?” He wants to be sure it’s okay. She nods and falls asleep in his arms before they reach their room.

----------

Ford sits up from a nightmare which draws her from her sleep as well. Before she can even ask what’s wrong he tells her.

“We have to warn them. He’s coming.”

----------

“You gave her what?” She shouts at Ford once he tells her about his meeting with Dipper and Mable.

“Was that… was that bad?” Ford’s face flushes red.

“Stanford you gave a twelve year old a crossbow!” She stares at him in disbelief. “Would you or Stanley have been able to use one at twelve?”

Ford thinks for a second and opens his mouth and thinks better of it.

She sighs. “I’ll just go with them to make sure they’re safe.” She srumbles together her things and tosses on a bag. She's about to walk out the door without saying anything when Ford grabs her arm.

“Let’s not part ways angry.” His eyes look over her face and he looks so unbelievably caring.

She sighs and pulls him into a kiss. “I’m not angry, I’m just worried about Mabel. She sometimes doesn't have the best judgment of character. Did I tell you she dated the gnomes at the beginning of summer?”

He laughs against her lips. “I understand you’re worried.” He pauses and thinks for a moment. “I’m worried too. Last time I encountered Bill he drove me away from you. I can’t let that happen again.”

She gives him another kiss. “I know you won’t.”

Later she returns with the girls to the shack, beaten and bruised.

Ford gives her a kiss and congratulates them on getting the unicorn hair. Dipper helps them glue the unicorn hair to the outside of the shack. Ford wraps his arm around her shoulder and she can’t but feel a little bit safer.

----------

She stares at the rift. “Ford it’s….”

He sighs and places his hand on her shoulder. “I’m aware.”

“You didn’t tell me?” She looks at him hurt.

“I didn’t keep it from you to keep it secret. I just didn’t want you to worry.” He sighs.

“But I could help. Ford I just got you back and now it feels like the world is about to end. I can’t lose you again.” He places her hand on top of his.

“Nor I you.” He looks in her eyes then looks away and clears his throat. “I was hoping that, um…” Ford searches his brain for the right words.

“Ford you know I’ll do anything for you, just ask.” She smiles sweetly at him.

“Well, I don’t need you to do anything for me. I was just hoping you’d do something with me.” He wraps his arms around her and rests his forehead on her. “When all this nonsense with Bill is done, I’d really like to finally marry you.”

She laughs. She cannot help it, but she laughs. Ford looks almost hurt. Her hands come up to cup her face and bring him in for a kiss. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. I just can't believe you were worried about asking me that. I’ve waited thirty year for you, of course I’m going to marry you.”

He smiles against her lips before bringing her back in for another kiss. “I’m the luckiest man alive to have you for a wife.”

“I’m the luckiest woman alive.”

----------

She runs after Mabel as soon as she runs from the shack, but by the time she reaches her, Bill has already been released into reality.

“Mabel no!” She screams as she watches the small girl suspended in the air as she gets wrapped in a bubble and chains and flown away.

“Well, well, well, well, well, well, well. Look what we have here! If it isn’t peace sign herself!” A voice behind her booms.

She turns around, already sure of who the voice belongs to. “Bill.”

“In the flesh!” He confirms as the yellow on his triangle opens and closes, revealing flesh and bones.

She turns and tries to run back to the shack, but is stopped as she is suspended in the air.

“Not so fast peace sign! I think you’d be a useful pawn against my dear friend six fingers!” Bill snaps his fingers and she is encased in a bubble similar to the one that carried Mabel away. “Can't have anything happening to you!” The bubble begins to move and flies to Bill’s Fearamid.

Bill keeps her behind bars. She sits and watches helplessly as people she knows from town are brought in one by one, turned to stone, and placed on Bill’s throne. She silently wishes Bill would have done the same to her, to spare her the awful reality in which she has to witness all this awful weirdness. But she knows that’s probably exactly why Bill didn’t turn her to stone, to make her suffer.

She won’t give up hope yet. She knows as long as Ford is out there fighting, there is still hope. That hope is quickly shattered as she watches Bill set Ford by his throne.

“Hey peace sign! Like my new back scratcher?!” He cackles at her anguished face. “The extra finger really adds to the scratch!”

She pulls her knees to her chest and quietly cries.

By the fourth day she can’t cry anymore, her head aches, her eyes are red and puffy, and she wishes she could sleep more than five minutes. The blaring music she had gotten used to, but the second one of Bill’s minions noticed she was asleep, they'd come over and smack the bars of her cage and wake her up.

---------

Stan is extremely relieved when the kids barge back into the shack. After he greets everyone he looks at the door expectantly.

“Are Fords and-” He tries to say but Dipper knows what he's going to ask.

“I know for a fact Bill has Grunkle Ford, but as for…” Dipper trails off.

They begin to argue a course of action and the other townspeople when Stan accidentally turns on the television. Every person and creature in the shack is brought to the reality that the people of Gravity Falls are being turned into stone, then the camera pans over to show their friend and Graunt.

She is behind bars and looks absolutely worn down.

Mabel and Dipper begin to hype everyone up to band together, but Stan is fast to voice his opinion against it.

“Grunkle Stan how can you say that?” Mabel pouts. “Bill has your best friend and brother. Are you just going to sit her while she suffers?”

Stan watches as everyone begins to form a plan.

----------

“Everyone has a weakness though guy, I’ll make you talk.” Bill threatens Ford at the top of the Fearamid. Ford is placed in chains.

Bill snaps and Ford watches in horror as his fiance appears next to the triangular menace.

“Don’t listen to him, Ford. I’m fine, don’t-” a rope comes up and wraps around her body and mouth.

“No!” Ford lets out an anguished scream. “Let her go, she has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, Fordsie! Did you forget all the time we spent together? I’ve been in that silly little brain of yours, and I know how much she consumes your every thought! Did you forget who it was that showed you where the ufo was so you could propose to her there?! I know with her by my side I can get you to do what I want! Or maybe…”

Bill draws her close to his eye and looks closely at her. “If you know how to bring down the barrier she must know too! I’ll get one of you to talk for sure!”

----------

She watches in horror as Bill begins electrocuting Ford, knowing she would be next.

“If only one of you would talk, then you wouldn’t have to watch the love of your life torchered!” Bill cackles boisterously.

There’s a loud crash as the Mystery Shack crashes through one of the walls. She looks at Ford with hope on her face. Until Bill realizes maybe if he tortured the kids he could get Ford or her to talk, they both begin to yell before being turned to stone.

Her vision returns to her and she looks around to see everyone back to their normal selves. Ford takes her hand and pulls her to the kids where they share in a group hug.

Ford’s taken aback when he sees his old friend Fiddleford. She feels bad never having gotten around to telling Ford what happened to him. They share in a few heartfelt words and a hug before Dipper brings everyone's attention back to the fact that Bill is outside.

“Drawing a circle on the floor. Well. he’s lost his mind.” Stan shouts.

She lays a hand on Stan’s arm. “Trust him. Please.” Her smile is tired, and she looks so weak compared to the normal strong woman Stan was sued to seeing.

Ford explains the meaning of the symbol on the floor, and everyone begins taking their places.

“The peace sign.” Ford smiles fondly as she takes your place between him and Stan’s symbol.

Everyone takes hands and the ground begins to shake. She reaches her hand out towards Stan.

Stan begins to argue and everyone pleads him to join the circle.

“Stan, please.” She begs her friend.

“Fine, just do one thing, say thank you.” Stan says.

Her heart drops to her stomach. She knew both brothers were too proud and now wasn’t the time for this.

“What?” Ford gawks.

“We spent thirty years trying to bring you back and you couldn’t even tell me or your girlfriend, not wife, thank you!?” Stan barks.

She felt tears begin to prick her eyes. There was no need for Stan to add that she wasn’t his wife yet. She knew he was angry and being petty but it hurt.

“Now’s not the time, Stan.” She scowled, blinking back tears.

“Fine. Thank you.” Ford begrudgingly says and Stan takes his hand. It looks like for a second it might be working, until Stan begins to fight with his brother and breaks the circle.

“You two stop!” She shouts.

But it’s too late. Bill has arrived. He takes Stan, Ford, and her into his grasp and everyone gets ready to fight. Bill snaps his fingers but everyone but the twins levitates and disappears. The young twins are entrapped in a cage.

“Last chance: Tell me how to take Weirdmageddon global and I’ll spare the kids!” Bill threatens.

Mabel yells at him and gets his attention before spraying him in his eye with spray paint, causing his grip on the three to disappear. The kids free themselves and order them to run. The kids run off and they try to follow but Bill traps the three of them in another cage.

All she can do is sit beside Ford as he and his brother share a moment. Ford finally stands and states his idea of letting Bill inside his head.

“You can’t do that to Ford.” She grabs his hand.

“I’ll,” She chokes on her words. “I’ll let him inside my mind and you can erase him.” She's scared. She's so extremely scared to lose everything important to her, but she’s more afraid of losing Dipper and Mabel.

The brothers share a look. “Absolutely not.” They say at the same time.

“But, but,” She whimpers.

“What if…” Stan states his plan, and she's against it. She’d rather take the sacrifice but she knows neither of them would let her. So she watches helplessly as the two exchange clothes.

Stan brings her into a hug. “You’ve really made my life worth living, kid.”

She hugs him as tight as she can. “Don’t talk like this is goodbye, because it’s not.” She kisses his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Stan reminds her, he shares a quick glance and hug from his brother, then they wait.

Everything that happens next happens in a blur. Stan, dressed as Ford, agrees to help Bill and steps towards him and Ford and her and are held in bonds again. Dipper screams for Ford to stop. Her vision blurs with tears.

As soon as Bill enters Stan’s mind she kneels down and draws both of the twins close to her and watches helplessly as Ford erases Stanley’s mind.

Everything returns to the normal state it should be. Mabel rushes to Stan's side and begins to praise him, but quickly she has to be pulled back.

She pulls Mabel into a tight hug as Ford explains what happened. They all cry, then they head back to the remains of the shack. The twins hold Stan’s hands.

Her hand is held tight in Ford’s, he holds her hand back equally as tight.

They stand awkwardly in front of Stan as he sits in his chair. Mabel refuses to accept Stan is gone and begins showing him her scrapbook from the summer. To everyone's surprise, it actually starts to work. They all gather around his chair while she reads.

-----------

It’s a few days later and Stan has recovered a lot of his memory. He’s not exactly himself yet but he is on the road to recovery.

It’s late in the afternoon and she’s outside repairing the steps up to the shack when Stan finds her. She greets him with a bright smile.

“Stanley!” She beams. “How are you feeling?” She takes a break from her work and sits down.

“Hey, kid. I’m feeling pretty good.” He smiles back and sits beside her. Then he begins to rub the back of his neck.

“What’s on your mind?” She places a hand on his shoulder.

“How’d ya know?”

“You always rub your neck like that when somethings on your mind.” She reminds him.

He pulls him hand down into his lap and sighs. “Listen, I feel like before I wasn’t the best at expressing my emotions, and when I fully recover I’m probably going to be the same again.” He thinks for a second. “I wanted to let you know that besides Ford, you’re the most important person in my life. You’re my best friend and you’ve been with me through everything, despite what an ass I can be a lot of the time. I wanted to say, ya know, thanks, and I love you.”

Stan can’t look at her face to see her reaction because she pulls him into the tightest bear hug. “I know, but it feels good to hear you say it. You’re my best friend too. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have Ford back.” She pulls back from the hug and sits.

“And another thing… I remember when we were all taking hands back during,” he waves his hand, “Ya know… I pointed out you weren’t married to Ford yet. I did it just to hurt your feelings. I was mad that you were okay he hadn’t said thank you to us yet. You’ve always been more level headed than me, more of a peacekeeper.”

She laughs. “I guess that’s why I was the peace sign.” She jokingly throws up a peace sign with her hands. “Joking aside though, all is forgiven Stanley. I could never stay mad at you. It means a lot to hear you talk like this. I know in a few days you won’t want to have conversations like this, so it’s nice, ya know?” The two of them sit in silence as the clouds pass overhead.

----------

Miraculously the Mystery Shack is back in one piece in just a week. Just in time for Dipper and Mabel’s birthday. Ford pulls Stan aside to tell him his plan to sail around the world.

She and Ford had discussed it beforehand, and she understood the boys needed some time alone to bond. She’d be happy waiting for them both to return back home.

“What are you crazy?” Stan playfully shoved his brother. “She’s not invited?”

“Well, no, we had discussed it beforehand and she thought it would be a good idea for us to have some time to bond. As brothers. I’ll miss her of course, but-”

Stan cut his twin off. “No buts! She waited thirty year for you. I say we bring her.”

Ford laughs. “I’m happy to hear you say that. As long as she wants to be stuck in a small boat with two old men I’d be happy to bring her.”

“You do realise she is as old as us right?” Stan calls her over to where the two are talking.

Ford wraps his arm around her waist and she smiles. “Did you tell him your plan?” She beams up at him.

“I did, however,” Ford frowns, and she frowns too. She looks to Stanley for explanation.

“You must be out of your mind if you think you’re not coming with us.” Stan smirks.

“But I thought…” She looks up at Ford.

“It was Stanley’s idea, and it’s fine by me. Actually more than fine by me, lovely even.” Ford leans down to give her a kiss.

“We’re family, so I think it’d be stupid to make you wait here alone for the both of us. So you coming or what?” Stan’s smile is wide and genuine.

She lets go of Ford to pull Stan into a crushing hug. “Thank you, Stan.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan rolls his eyes.

Her hand reaches back towards Ford. “Get over here, I need to hug you both.” Ford chuckles but compiles.

Stan surprises everyone by announcing the closure of the Mystery Shack before giving Soos permission to run it.

She keeps close to Ford’s side as they wait for the bus to take the kids back home. Mabel grabs her hand and pulls her down to her level. “You’re the best Graunt in the whole world.”

She hugs Mabel tight and closes her eyes to stop the tears from spilling from her eyes. “You’re the best great niece and match maker in the world. Thank you for getting Ford back for me.”

Stan and Ford threaten the bus driver to let Waddles on. They all wave goodbye and run after the bus, cheering farewells.

Ford holds her close with one arm while the other wraps reassuringly around his brother. “They’ll be back next summer. Until then, let’s have an adventure.”

#waiting for you part 5 #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls reader insert #check ao3 for all tags and warnings

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