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dragonrider9905 · 15 days

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Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him.

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart.

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing.

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same.

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands.

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could.

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for?

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you.

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart?

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.”

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering.

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage.

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.)

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you.

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them.

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok.

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could.

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little.

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.”

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved.

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out.

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better.

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh.

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit.

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that.

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door.

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you.

Kriff. He had to fix this.

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship.

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before.

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken.

He was lost.

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it.

A lost love.

And it was his fault.

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible.

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on.

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep.

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty.

He saw it. And he caused it.

And he hated himself for it.

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t.

Turns out he was wrong.

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that.

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt.

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold.

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality.

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else.

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be.

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her.

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice.

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed.

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand.

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack.

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy.

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated.

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands.

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face.

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for.

It was ‘that’ look.

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time.

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone.

You squeezed his hand.

“We’ll find her. I promise.”

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long.

He squeezed your hands.

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore.

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself.

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering.

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free.

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him.

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again.

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before.

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead.

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him.

Taking a look around, you carefully considered.

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.”

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker.

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back.

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?”

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.”

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.”

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?”

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you.

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go.

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two.

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun.

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had.

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed.

Your voice.

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training.

“Meshla, no!”

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror.

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you.

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you.

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter.

Your painful cry.

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart.

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge.

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.”

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…”

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body.

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled.

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly.

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?”

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep.

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run.

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.”

Hunter came in running.

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him.

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls.

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open.

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you.

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space.

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand.

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat.

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up.

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating.

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing.

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat.

Oh well, you could only push forward.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help.

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding.

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago?

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry.

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing.

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face.

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak.

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened.

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing?

You had an infection.

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly?

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you.

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you.

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water.

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle.

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter.

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes.

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least.

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt.

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late.

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response.

“Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope.

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him.

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk.

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand.

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her.

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed.

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area.

You blinked your eyes open with a smile.

“Hey Handsome.”

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss.

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?”

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him.

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled.

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.”

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help.

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words.

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.”

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon.

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you.

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level.

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets.

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern.

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way.

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm.

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out.

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most.

This one, he couldn’t do.

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could.

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you.

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow.

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes.

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself.

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips.

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air.

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain.

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard.

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there.

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.”

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again.

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”

“Hunter! No! You—”

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier.

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace.

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened.

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler.

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest.

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

#I gave Hunter's scarf a fate #We now know what happened to it #It deserved a story #Hunter's scarf is important and we recognize that here #sergeant hunter x you #hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb echo #star wars the bad batch #clone fic gift exchange #TBBE24

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herlondonboy · 2 months

Text

i bet on losing dogs, clarisse la rue

summary: based on this request. you’re in love with clarisse, but she’s in love with another.

warnings: unrequited love, ruegard, angst, no happy ending, swear word.

wc: 1.4k

clarisse was a drug. it didn’t matter what drug she was, though, you just knew you were addicted. you didn’t really know why she decided you were to be her friend. her group was small. a few siblings of hers, chris rodriguez, silena beauregard, and you.

you were nothing special, just an unclaimed camper that was good with your hands. if she had to guess, clarisse would have put you in the hephaestus cabin. you were one of the best blacksmiths and she was sure if you wanted to, you could make something far better than chameleon armour.

though you disagreed, you’d never say anything to clarisse. the thought of upsetting her or making her angry at you was always there. even when you tried not to care.

clarisse first picked you up a month after you arrived at camp half blood. she spotted you working away with an anvil and some metal. she asked you what you were working on and if it was important. when you said no, clarisse smiled then told you to make her a new dagger. did she ask nicely? no. did you make it anyway? yes.

clarisse had the kind of eyes that you could drown in. deep and brown, warm. you could never say no to those eyes. no matter how sharp their glare was.

she had the kind of eyes you could fall in love with.

you realised you were in love with clarisse not very long ago. about three weeks to be exact. you were sitting next to her during the bonfire. she was staring at silena, who had been whisked away by charles beckendorf. he wasn’t bad looking, but he definitely wasn’t your type. besides, you’d spent so much time with the hephaestus kids that charles felt like a big brother to you.

you could tell clarisse was upset at the fact that silena had left. if you weren’t so blind, you would have been able to piece together why. nevertheless, you watched her side profile as it was illuminated by the fire. you watched her jaw clenched and loosen. you soaked it all in.

how you were so close that her thigh brushed up against yours, how softly she was breathing. and you realised, you were in love.

now, normally when you realise you’re in love with your friend, you would distance yourself so they never found out until they crush wore off and you could be normal again.

that wasn’t going to work with clarisse. instead, you just refused to look at her. even when she was speaking. sure, it was rude, but you didn’t care. you weren’t going to ruin your friendship over a silly little crush.

there was one part of you, though, that thought maybe your wildest dreams would come true. that clarisse would confess to you. you allowed yourself to think this because you felt her eyes on you. ever since the campfire.

they followed you. every step you took, every walk you went on, until she finally caught you alone.

clarisse didn’t like talking about feelings. she didn’t understand them very well.

‘why would you feel sick to your stomach looking at or thinking of someone you love?’ she had asked one time.

you chuckled and shook your head. ‘you feel sick to your stomach because you don’t know if they love you too. you feel that way because you need to know, but won’t ever say anything.’

“y/n!” you heard, making you flinch and turn.

you felt ill. her crooked smile, how her hair bounced as she ran.

“clarisse,” you responded softly, already thinking of all the ways you could escape this conversation.

“i need your help.”

you looked around. “another dagger? i can’t do it today, but to-“

clarisse cut you off. you forced yourself to look at her face. you noticed how rosey her cheeks were.

“can you forge a ring?” she asked. you’ve never seen her so timid. so small.

you nod slowly.

the girl opposite you grins. “great. i-i made a sketch. can you make it as close as possible to it?” she shoved it in your hand and you opened the paper.

it was just like any other ring, only…

you wanted to throw up. you should’ve known.

“‘c heart s,’” you read aloud.

the red tint on clarisse’s face deepened.

she nodded slowly. “i think i really like silena,” you voiced your worse fears. “i want to tell her before charles does. at least then if she rejects me it’s just because she doesn’t like me, not because of some guy.”

“oh,” you said.

you wondered if she could hear your heart cracking inside your chest.

“i’m going to do it during the bonfire next week for chris’s birthday.”

you nodded, forcing a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “i’ll get right on this then.”

“thank you,” clarisse smiled. gods, her fucking smile. “you’re a life saver, y/n.”

the way your name rolled off her tongue like it was made for her.

and just as quickly as she came, she left.

pushing the paper down into your pockets, you pushed a bit of steel into the fire.

chris’s party was tonight. you don’t feel well enough to go. well, that’s a lie. you’re not sick in the way that means you’re going to throw up, you’re sick because the person you love loves someone else.

the thought of it brought tears to your eyes. it was embarrassing. you’d allowed yourself to fall so deeply in love with someone that could never love you.

a sob wracked through your body as you lied, staring at the wall. gods, you loved her so much.

you were so in love with clarisse la rue.

the door to the hermes cabin creaked open you were still crying. then you saw her. she was blurry, but it was her.

you don’t know how much longer you can hold it in for.

“are you okay?” she asked. she was always soft with you. soft with you. not with chris, not with silena, not with her siblings. just you.

you shook your head as you sat up in bed, shoulders shaking as your tried to be quiet.

“are you sick?”

you just cried. clarisse didn’t know what to do, so she leaned forward and hugged you.

gods, you hadn’t touched her in so long. her skin was soft, just like how your remembered it to be.

“i love you,” you choked out. you were sure if she heard it because nothing changed. then you heard a timid ‘what?’

you cried harder thinking about how she was was just hours away from confessing to silena. “i’m in love with you,” you forced out. “but you’re going to confess to silena and i’ve probably just gone and ruined our friendship. but i thought… i thought i had a chance until you asked me to make a ring for you.” clarisse just looked at you as you wiped your tears. “it’s like betting on a losing dog. it was stupid. i’m stupid.”

clarisse shook her head softly. “i didn’t know,” she murmured. “if i had known…”

“you should go,” you murmured. “wouldn’t want to lose to charles beckendorf,” you joked, clarisse just looked at you. “i’m fine. seriously. go.”

when she realised you wouldn’t take no for an answer, she left and went to the party. your tears stained on her shirt collar.

you decided not to go to chris’s party. even if he was your friend. you just couldn’t be there when clarisse took silena away from the party. you couldn’t be there when clarisse gave silena the ring you made.

hours passed before chiron called quits on the party. instead of just returning to their own cabins, some decided a small after party in the aphrodite cabin sounded like fun.

“hey,” you turned to see clarisse with a weak smile.

you smiled at her, though it pained you to do so.

“i didn’t do it.”

it took you a minute to figure out what ‘it’ was but when you did, you frowned. “why not?”

“y/n, you’re my best friend. why would i go into a relationship knowing it was killing you?”

you shrugged.

“i can wait. until your crush is over.”

that hurt. she didn’t want to hurt you, but the only way she could refrain from hurting you was by liking you back. and she’s never like you back.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse pjo #please reblog #elijah writes

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months

Note

HIII can I request Mk1 Bihan hurt/comfort where you’re REALLY upset with him/worried for him after he’s been gone for days with no communication with these prompts i got from your list 😼. “where have you been? do you know what time it is?” and “you said you’d only be two hours. two!” and then maybe ending it with fluff like i just want him to hold me when i’m sleeping lowkey (even though he doesn’t seem like an affectionate person i feel like he would show it with actions rather than words yk) (i hope that’s not too specific 😭

I’m honestly glad to see someone actually use that prompt list, so thank you anon. 🦦 ooc Bi-Han? Or did I make him too mean?

You knew Bi-Han could handle himself and you knew that if he could see you as you were now, fitfully sleeping, biting your nails, worrying yourself sick over his well-being and whereabouts, he’d scoff and remind you that he wasn’t a child to be worried over. You’ve had your past frustrations with Bi-Han when it came to you and your overreactions -as he would put it- in regards to him going on long missions but at least during those other missions didn’t include the loss of communications.

Kuai Liang and Tomas both tried to quell your worries by reaffirming what you already knew about Bi-Han but after some time you began to grow more and more frustrated at how this ice cold bastard, who would often regard you in cold stares and long solemn silences, whilst continuously invalidating your thoughts and feelings, had made you feel so helpless and so fearful on his behalf; despite fully knowing that he wouldn’t have spared you a single thought if your positions were switched. So when Bi-Han finally decided to return later in the darkest of night, needless to say you weren’t even in the slightest bit pleased to see him with the emotional turmoil he put you through.

‘Where have you been?’ You began, annoyance lacing your tone that only grew more evident when you noticed how unperturbed by all this Bi-Han was, as though it was something that he’d expect you to accept as the norm whether you liked it or not. ‘Do you know what time it is?’ You rhetorically added as you crossed your arms over your chest.

‘I don’t ever remember asking you to wait for me.’ Bi-Han puts bluntly as he brushed pasted you as though you weren’t even there, which caused a tightness to form in your throat at how easy it was for him to disregard you. Whilst his attitude towards you made you question your worth to him, It also made you mad at how he thought he could treat you with such little respect, it was an insult that stung you deeply and felt like a spit in the face to the way you were stressing yourself over this unfeeling man for two fucking days!

‘Trust me. I’m not at all pleased about loosing sleep over you either.’ You retorted bitterly, not wanting to look at him for the fact that you were both relieved and irritated of his seemingly safe return. You were relieved to see him safe and with minimal injuries as it silenced the anxious and ominous ideals of him possibly never coming home, which neither were based upon any solid evidence that that was going to be the case. And you were irritated about this because it only meant that your sleepless nights, frequent bouts of anxiety and stress were for nothing. Your worrying was for nothing and you truly hated the conflicting emotions that only Bi-Han could withdraw from you.

‘You said that you’d be gone for two hours. TWO! Not two fucking days with absolutely zero chance of communication to let us know, to let me know that you were alright! That you were safe and that you were coming home!’ You chuckled humourlessly at how stupid and pathetic your words must sound to him but this was how you felt, and to you your feelings were anything but stupid or pathetic. ‘But i guess that’s too much to fucking ask from the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.’ You finished getting everything off of your chest that you’ve been concealing for the past two days, only for them to be regarded with the indignant scoff of an annoyed Bi-Han.

‘I do not need nor want to hear tales of your concern and how worried you were and in regards to the loss of communication that had you so distraught, it was merely a minor hindrance. There was no need to inform anyone of anything, the only thing that mattered was accomplishing the mission, no matter what, even if that meant on the fly improvisation or even in the off chance of never coming back.’ Bi-Han said with a voice so cold you swore you could feel the goosebumps on your arms staring to rise. ‘I shouldn’t be held responsible for the emotions that you feel. You should’ve put more faith in your Grandmaster instead of allowing your own emotions to cloud your judgment, for they only serve to become your undoing during the vital moments.’ He finished and all without sparing a single glance your way as to gauge your reaction, not when he could practically feel it trying to suffocate him with how thick the tension became.

You didn’t have any words, even if you did you wouldn’t know how to articulate them without it come across as disjointed ramblings of things you’ve already said aloud. You felt humiliated and you felt ashamed for standing by and letting it happen but what else could you say to combat that? It was obvious that Bi-Han didn’t care and so after spending two days on the trot, you had truly exhausted yourself both physically and emotionally. You were too tired to keep fighting with a man who might as well have been an ice wall, so instead of continuing your attempt to make Bi-Han see how his actions affected you, you walked out of the room but just before closing the door behind you, you stopped to say; ‘At least I get to say that I am blessed to possess thoughts and feelings. Goodnight Grandmaster.’ Before leaving Bi-Han with his thoughts.

By the time Bi-Han came to bed you were fast asleep. In fact the moment your head hit the pillow you were already deep into the realm of dreams to properly tuck yourself beneath the covers. He welcomed the sight, content that you hadn’t left him yet despite everything that had been said prior, he didn’t have an valid excuse on hand to justify his actions as Bi-Han had become aware that how he spoke to you wasn’t a tone that one should take when speaking to someone they love, nor was the way he disregarded your thoughts and feelings were anywhere near acceptable either.

However Bi-Han found it impartial to vocalise his regret for the way he had acted but fount that he could express that better through other means. So he journeyed to your side of the bed to pull the covers over the top of you, making sure to cover you completely, knowing how you get when the nights grow colder as he quickly pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehand, lingering there for a minute to savour the moment. Bi-Han then moved over towards his side of the bed and tucking himself under the covers before moving himself closer to you until his front was practically pressed up against your back and his arms were caging you against him as to protect you from the dangers that would bring you harm. Yet under Bi-Han’s watchful eye, that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. He wouldn’t allow that to ever come to pass for how could he call himself your love if he couldn’t protect you?

#mk1 #mk x reader #mk x y/n #mk imagine #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat x reader #sub zero x reader #bi han x you #bi han x reader #bi han imagines #bi han imagine

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tonkatsubowl · 8 months

Text

love sick.

✱ warning — the reader is the yandere.

how would the xianzhou boys react to you as a yandere?

blade is definitely into this side of you. however, there are times where he had to calm you down. it was surprising that someone like blade even knew limits...especially when it came to necessary manslaughter.

"y/n." you ignored blade's voice, the warmth of a deceased woman's blood splattering upon your visage as you took another one's life.

this "innocent" woman in particular got a little too bold and tried to flirt with blade, trying seducing him to a form of prostitution sale. of course, he was immensely loyal to you... but he wasn't surprised for the woman's death, as he saw this coming. was he upset at you? definitely not, for he would do the same thing if a man touched or spoke to you in a disgusting way.

"y/n." he called again. "she's dead."

his hand reached towards your shoulder, stopping you in place. you breathed the fresh scent of iron, your distraught and psychotic eyes casting towards blade, and immediately your gaze had softened. decorated with blood, an innocent smile creeps towards your lips as you turn to embrace your lover.

"i just wanted to make sure she learned her lesson too." you reply, snuggling your face into blade's chest, smearing the woman's blood from your face all over his clothing.

"i'm sure she did. but now we have to bury the body."

"she doesn't deserve a burial," you nearly snap, "i'll just burn her body to crisp."

blade's gaze softens, pressing his thumb against your lips, "shh. take it easy, y/n. i'll handle it."

your eyes sparkle, but you nodded. you knew kafka didn't like seeing you in this mess, but you enjoyed it whenever you came back to the stellaron hunters and kafka had a handkerchief in hand. though, she did scold you a few times... and now blade doesn't want you to have that sort of attention from kafka.

dan heng would definitely try to find ways to not trigger this side of you. he knew you have a good heart and you would do anything to help and save the astral express team, but whenever it came to other women flirting with him and trying to seduce him... that was when you snapped.

you definitely couldn't control this side of you, and himeko and welt would continue to deeply monitor your well being whenever these sorts of things happened. there were multiple incidents where you've taken a few lives because they simply looked at dan heng's direction... but you've improved a bit? you were at least killing women and random people who decided to flirt with your lover, rather than anyone who sneezed in his direction at least.

"y/n, please..." the sounds of you ripping a woman's head apart from her body echoed through the halls, covering your body with her beautiful blood. you breathed, smiling through it all. unable to think.

but dan heng couldn't stop you. he was too late.

"y/n!"

it was an innocent saleswoman who used flirtation to gain sales, and it was nothing more... nothing less. it was purely business related. but your jealousy got the best of you.

his voice finally snap you back to reality, your hand raised to stab her one more time came to a stop. you drop your weapon, looking to dan heng. your eyes softened, no longer were they... so psychotic. so evil.

"ah. there you are! i was looking for you," you innocently beamed, waddling up to him as if nothing had occurred.

right, this was an issue, too. you killed, and you don't remember what happened. or rather you just acted like nothing happened.

"are you okay? i really missed you," you innocently said to dan heng as you embraced him, his arms reluctantly returning the hug.

if he didn't return the affection, you would become worse.

"i was moreso worried about you, but i missed you too," dan heng said in a soft tone, "let's clean you up."

he'll have to report another incident to welt and himeko.

jing yuan has monitored your well being for a while, and has used different methods of therapeutic sessions to help you maintain this side of you... or get rid of it. he knew you had a killer instinct that's hidden inside of you that you cannot control, whatsoever. and it was... terrifying. not even yanqing or fu xuan really trusted you, even doubting their general because of you.

"get rid of them. they're going to cause you trouble." fu xuan would say to jing yuan. and boy, if you heard that? a life would be taken away. and it wouldn't be yours. you were significantly stronger than fu xuan, which was why she tends to stay away from you.

yanqing didn't want to make a comment. he knew you were always listening at one point. there was an incident where you nearly killed fu xuan because of her comments, but after some restraint, magic and a bit of therapeutic sessions, you had... improved. a bit. just a bit.

"i believe in them." jing yuan would say. "i never want to give up on them."

and even if you were currently killing some random woman right now for talking about wishing to be wed to general jing yuan, he would still love you. he would try to change you.

"that's enough, y/n."

he came to retrieve you after knowing you were headed out to kill this woman. your hands stopped as he reached out, grabbing your wrists, pulling you closer to his chest. "that's enough."

you breathed, leaning into his touch, innocently smiling faintly. you were finally "awake", no longer focused on a mere corpse. "oh, jing yuan," you cooed, "sorry, i got distracted. i was heading out to grab you a drink, and—"

"it's alright," jing yuan murmured, eyeing on the corpse. goodness, you were getting collectively worse with these murders. never had he seen these types of deaths before, even in his years on the battlefield. "let's get you back home. i'll have the cloud knights clean this up for you."

it was time for some therapeutic sessions again.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail blade #dan heng #hsr blade #hsr dan heng #blade x reader #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #yandere #hsr yandere #yandere y/n #dan heng x reader #jing yuan x reader

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babybluebex · 8 months

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Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.

ok i have a vivid image in my head and let's see if i can translate it hehe

You tapped the toe of your pristine white sneaker on the linoleum, waiting. Just waiting. Principal Higgins was still talking to Jason, trying to get his side of the story, and you knew that he would certainly listen to Jason over you. You had basically broken Jason's nose, the star of Hawkins High— you didn't feel as if many people would be on your side.

But then, someone appeared in the doorway. You scoffed; "Save it, Munson."

"Easy," Eddie said carefully. He looked a little disheveled, definitely your fault. After you had punched Jason, the lunchroom had basically exploded, and Eddie had hauled you away from Jason with strong arms around your waist. You could remember him saying something about "He's not worth it", but your adrenaline was still running then, and you could hardly remember the moment. "Just making sure you're okay."

You grimaced, looking down to where you were nursing your wrist against your chest. It throbbed like crazy and hurt like nothing else; it hurt worse than that time when your basket didn't catch you after a toss and you went careening towards the floor. You were sure that your wrist was sprained, maybe even worse, and you let fat tears slide down your nose. There goes your senior year cheer season.

"Aw, jeez," Eddie mumbled. "It hurts that bad? I'm sorry, I-I feel like a piece of shit—"

"It's not that," you whimpered, wiping up your tears. "I'm upset because I won't be able to cheer with my wrist like this. I can't throw any tricks, I can't even be on the bottom of the pyramid. I'll have to sit out the entire season!"

Eddie carefully sat down next to you, the leather of his own pristine white sneakers squeaking as he flexed his foot. "Even though you didn't need to," he started. "Thank you for defending me. It means a lot that someone would stand up for me, especially you."

"What does that mean?" you asked.

"Well," Eddie started. "If Jason is the king of Hawkins, and Chrissy is the queen, you're as good as the princess. And the princess of Hawkins standing up against the king to defend some stupid bard, that takes some guts."

You shrugged. "I've watched Jason and those guys tease you since we were freshman," you mumbled. "I just got sick and tired of it. Pick on somebody your own size, y'know?"

"That's noble," Eddie said. "But... I feel like you aren't being truthful with me."

"Huh?" you asked, wrinkling your nose. "How?"

"Well, you remember last year, how we had algebra together?" Eddie asked. "You were placed in the senior-level class, and I was there because I failed it the first time, and I sat behind you. Well, umm... You kinda helped me pass that class, but that's irrelevant, I guess... But I—"

"I knew it!" you exclaimed with a smile. "You cheated off of me!"

"Cheated is a strong word," Eddie said. "I looked at your paper to get an idea of what I was supposed to do. But whatever, doesn't matter, I was looking at your notes one day in class and I saw that you were doodling something, and it was me. And it was perfect, you didn't look back at me once and you had perfectly drawn me."

"So?" you asked. "You're kinda hard to forget."

Eddie looked at you pointedly through his eyelashes, and he sighed. "So, I guess it doesn't matter that I've written songs about you," he said, and your heart jumped in your chest. Had he? What sorta songs? "That I think about you all the time? That, when I was pulling you away from Jason, I almost kissed you?"

You didn't want to hide it anymore. You knew that Chrissy would think you were crazy for liking Eddie— she had told you so, back in freshman year. During a sleepover, she had gotten you to admit your crush on the then-junior Eddie, and she had laughed and said, "Him? He's so weird!" But it didn't matter to you anymore. You liked Eddie, and, after the scene in the lunchroom, you didn't care who knew.

"What kind of songs?" you asked, edging closer to Eddie on the wooden bench.

"Sappy shit," Eddie said. "Not like Motley Crue 'sex and girls' stuff, but good love songs. You ever heard Babe by Styx?" You shook your head, and Eddie tilted his head. "I have the cassette at home, I can bring it to you tomorrow."

"Can you sing it to me?" you asked.

"Now?" Eddie gasped. "Jesus, sweetheart, you're gonna kill me, there are people around!"

"I'm sure you're not that bad of a singer," you rolled your eyes.

Eddie looked around at the small room. There was nobody else there, just a waiting room for Principal Higgins's office, but people were bustling in the hallway outside the room. "I'm not great," Eddie mumbled, reaching over and twisting his fingers nervously in your skirt. "Maybe can I... Um, bring you to my place after school? I can show you the song, and-and play you some that I've written."

"I'd like that," you grinned, and, as the door to the office opened, you leaned over and kissed Eddie's cheek. He immediately went beet red, and his hand drifted up to lovingly touch where your lips had been as he watched you stand and enter the office. "See ya then, Eddie!"

#bex answers #anon ask #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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love-hatred-stuff · 8 months

Text

»envious bucky«

genre: if u know me, u know it’s gon’ be angst, bestfriend/soulmate!bucky

warnings: drinking ig, mentions of being interested in another man (but not really), immensely jealous bucky, who doesn’t know how to process that feeling (he’s being mean), mentions of toxic ex

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

»I don’t like him.« Bucky grumbled under his breath.

You shoot him a look. »Yeah, but I do, darling.« Giving him a strict smile.

»Why? He’s like not even your type.« He sighs in frustration.

Your brows raise at that, looking almost offended.

»What would you know about my type?« You challenged.

The bar you’re sitting in is crowded and busy, much to Bucky’s dismay. But he stays of course, for you. As though it’s different than usual. You didn’t look at him much today, although you’re sitting right beside him, -barely touching each other’s knees, but the contact is there. You two live in the same apartment block and are used to seeing each other every day of the week.

He has a bigger problem with not having your full and honest attention than he would like to admit. You’ve been looking the opposite direction the moment you’ve found yourself these seats. Bucky hates it, because he can see what –or rather who– you’re stalking from his point of view –just as perfect as you can. It’s this french guy Gabriel. He’s new to town and new to your friend group now as well. Nat had brought him with her a couple weeks ago and everyone loved him. Well, except Bucky. But he wasn’t someone who particularly enjoyed meeting new people, everyone knew that. So they weren’t suspicious about it.

It’s not that he didn’t like the guy in general, it’s that you liked him. And every time Gabriel came up to you and started speaking french (because you apparently loved it when he spoke his native language) your eyes started to form into hearts and all those giggles and laughs wouldn’t stop flowing. God, James hoped he would survive tonight without lashing out on you or Mr. “I’m french and handsome so I’m going to steal your girl”.

»I know you prefer rough guys. You don’t like a baby face with a smooth haircut. You don’t like anyone ever actually. But especially not this kind of guy.« Bucky tries to wear his grin proudly, but he’s questioning himself when he sees your expression.

»Oh, is that so? Thanks for reminding me, Mr. Barnes.« You scoff and turn yourself away from him once again. Bucky feels crap after that reaction. He didn’t intend to make you upset.

»No- You know how I mean it, Y/n.« You ignore him and continue to look for your knew found bestie.

Bucky sighs in defeat.

»Do you actually like him?«

He didn’t want an answer to that question if it was a „yes“. So he felt like punching himself realizing what he’d done.

»Bucky, quit it? Please? I’m not talking to you about this.« You brushed him off, annoyed by his demeanor.

He breathed out deeply, looking at you and wishing once again, he would be the one you’re looking at the way you’re watching Gabriel learning billiards right now.

This never happened before. That’s why he was so determined to remind you that you don’t like anyone but him. To remind you you’re his. Except, you’re not. You never were. And realizing that made him physically feel sick to the stomach. He didn’t just not like the idea of you finding something in Gabriel, Bucky depended on you. If you were gonna fall in love with someone else, who would be there to take care of his broken soul? A soul only you had the capability of healing.

It was when you touched his shoulder and slowly gripped your hand around his bicep, that he came back to earth.

»Barnes? Baby, are you okay? You’ve been staring into space for the last ten minutes.« He looked at you, studying your facial expression. You were worried.

Although the nickname and your touch gave him comfort, he still felt like vomiting all over the place. His chest so tight, he struggled to breath normally, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

»I think I’ll head home. Had enough for the night, just feel tired, that’s all.« He tried convincing you with a exhausted smile hanging on his lips.

You figured it out in about five seconds. He never looked that crushed around his friends and you. You knew it had upset him what you said earlier, but you realized it too late. Preoccupied with thoughts of another man.

You mentally slapped yourself. You should’ve been more sensitive about it. Everyone knew how protective Bucky was over you. You suspected why. But you could never know to which extent his love went for you. Bucky himself couldn’t even form it into words, how important you were to him.

»Okay, I’m just gonna inform everyone that we’re leaving. Wait here for me.« You gently squeezed his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.

You were about to go do that but Bucky stopped you.

»Hey, no. You don’t have to go with me. Let Sam walk you home later. I’ll be fine.« His voice sounded almost strangled. So sharp and raspy. You could tell, something wasn’t right.

»Buck, I insist. You don’t look well. Let me take you home, please?«

It irritated him immensely how you went from scoffing at him earlier to wanting to take care of him now.

»I think you’d rather go sit beside Gabriel over there and tell him fancy things about yourself. You don’t have to act like you’re more interested in taking me home than staying here and spending time with him.« You were baffled by his brutal honesty.

He was often like that with others, but never with you. His gentle tone and careful, loving words were only meant for you. Until now it seemed.

Bucky studied your face once again and he could feel the hurt and confusion through your eyes, not making his already heavy heart any lighter.

»W-what are you saying?« You felt the air getting thicker inside your lungs.

»Oh please. You’ve been ogling that man since the moment we walked into this place. Why don’t you just go there? Maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll even let him take you to bed.«

All that air made it’s way out of your system again and you stopped breathing for a moment.

Bucky’s eyes were telling a different story, but what he’d just said to you made you grow cold.

»Fuck you.« Was the only thing you were able to breath out, before snatching your coat and making your way out of this bar and onto the streets. Right now, you just wanted to wrap yourself in your sheets and forget his dumb face.

Barnes was not fast enough to get a hold of you and apologize. He realized it was the most stupid thing to say to you. It was just that he felt so jealous and hurt, his mind acted on instinct and wanted to hurt you back. Which obviously worked a little too well.

What was he expecting though, when he hit right inside your weakest part? The people who knew you well enough, had heard about your ex. And what he had done to still influence your decisions to this day. It was a long story, but one thing was for sure; you’ve never trusted anyone else with your heart (or body) since then. Only Bucky. But it looked like not even he deserved it.

…

»Fuck!« He punched the concrete wall of the building he was standing next to –leaving a hole– after landing on your voicemail once again for the nth time.

He felt horrible. Not being able to reach you. Not knowing where you were. Not being able beg you for forgiveness. And worst of all; not knowing what to do without you.

Pt.2

Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky moodboards

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wooahaes · 4 months

Text

dream a little dream with me

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 9/13

word count: 4.7k~

warnings: skinship. food mentions. some slight angst.

daisy’s notes: oh to have a soulmate i meet with in my dreams...

summary: Jeonghan knows you. He might not know your face, but you’re the person in his dreams every night. And frankly… he’s pretty sure he’s already falling for you. He just has to figure out how to find you when the world won’t let him trade names or locations or anything he can actually use. At least he knows your favorite things…

"Hello...?"

Jeonghan was maybe thirteen when he finally met you for the first time, and you'd already proven him wrong with your existence alone. When he had turned ten, he expected to feel... something. To lose all the colors within his vision, or maybe he would feel your pain or something physical. A name, your first thoughts, your first words... Except he felt nothing. It'd upset him, sure--most people were upset by that kind of thing just on the account of being considered an outsider to their peers. Yet now he'd found himself in a museum filled with paintings he couldn't fully make out, and surrounded by people with blurry faces... Except for you.

He'd blinked. "Hello?"

And you lit up, making your way over to him. "You're...?"

Jeonghan had furrowed his brow, watching you carefully. Why could he see you...? "I'm Jeonghan," he had said, thinking that was what you meant.

You'd given him your given name, too--last name melting into white noise for a second. For a moment, you stood there, brimming with excitement. "We're--We're soulmates."

Immediately, he'd felt lighter at the revelation. "Oh!" Then he paused, brows drawing together once more as a follow-up thought pushed into his head immediately. "Why haven't we met before?"

He'd seen the way you grew more upset, gaze no longer meet his own. "I'm... It's complicated." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "I think... Our sleep schedules don't overlap?" You looked up. "I laid down to take a nap for a bit because I was feeling sick, so..."

So you weren't near him. He felt a sting of rejection, even though you hadn't said anything of the sort.. Emotions were weird at thirteen, after all, and something like his soulmate not being near him. Obviously, it wasn't your fault: you didn't pick where you lived. He looked around, and felt... awkward. It was different than meeting someone for the first time in reality. At least other people were around. Now, it just you and him in this dream together.

"Do you wanna talk?" He said after a moment. "Since... I don't know if I'll get to see you again."

"You aren't mad?"

He shook his head. "I just wish you were closer," he crossed his arms. "This isn't fair."

You frowned. "It's not... So let's talk."

The two of you strolled on your own, getting to know one another. He learned the country you were from, even though he wouldn't know what city or town you were in. He learned about this doughnut place in your hometown, though, that you loved to visit when you could. He told you school stories and about his own friends, about the pranks he'd pulled on his little sister... Little things to learn about one another. He learned your favorite color, you learned the foods he disliked...

And then all too soon, you had disappeared within seconds. He had called for you, only to realize that you must have woken up--or been woken up, since it was so sudden. When he woke up the next morning for school, he told his parents that he'd met his soulmate in his dreams (even though he couldn't fully remember your face once he was awake).

Thus began the cycle. He probably needed the naps he would start taking in an attempt to meet you again, but he'd grown used to pushing through his fatigue to work on schoolwork or to spend time with friends. Yet his parents always knew where he'd be when they came home from work, finding him asleep on his bed as he hoped to meet you again.

Sometimes it worked. Sometimes he could sit with you for a little while, long enough to see you off before you woke up for your own schooling. Other times, he'd get home far too late to see you. But every time the two of you met over the rest of your teenage years, you made it work. The two of you would talk more about yourselves, getting to know each other better. He learned how to tell when you were upset, and would let you vent if you needed to. You'd given him a space to talk freely about his own feelings, too: the things that made him happy, or the things that were worrying him in real life...

Most people didn't know about his 'other' life in his dreams. The one where the two of you would go on walks in a city, sometimes holding hands. He'd slowly begun to fall for you over time, realizing that the care you showed him was sweet. The two of you had been strangers years ago, and now he understood maybe that was why the two of you were soulmates.

When he tried to kiss you around eighteen, you stopped him.

"I wanna kiss you for real," you said to him, holding his hands. "I know it's unfair to ask you to wait for me, but--"

"I will." He hadn't hesitated. Although he had kissed a girl once before (he was fifteen, and he realized after he did it that he'd much rather be kissing the person in his dreams) and told you so, he'd held off on dating. He wanted to experience things with you.

You'd squeezed his hands. "You don't have to."

Were you rejecting him...? What if he started dating someone and he loved them more than he already loved you? Part of him felt like he knew he would leave that person if he met you face-to-face, and yet... That meant he would hurt someone else. He'd heard stories about soulmates who left partners to be with one another, and while they were happy, the people left behind grew to resent them. Could he really do that to another person?

"You don't want me to?" He'd pulled his hands from yours, feeling the tiny sting in his chest.

You shook your head. "No, I--I just don't want you to wait around for me forever. What if we never meet?"

But what if we do? Jeonghan felt his heart sink in his chest. "We will," he said. Jeonghan never considered himself a hopeless romantic, but he had the naivete of a eighteen-year-old on his side. "I'll find you. I promise."

Before you could say something, you had begun to fade again. You were waking up. "Jeonghan--"

And then you were gone.

The first person Jeonghan had told about you was one of his college roommates, Joshua. He'd been listening to the way he'd been venting about how he felt he was annoying his soulmate whenever he sang, and waited until Seungcheol left for class to finally admit it out loud. He'd tell Seungcheol, too, soon: he just... needed to do it at his own pace. Both of his roommates seemed like good people who wouldn't judge him, but he'd already decided. Joshua first, and then Seungcheol. Deciding on that had made it easier, especially since Seungcheol was the busier of the two.

"My soulmate and I share dreams," he had said, pushing around the noodles in his ramyeon cup.

Joshua looked up. "Oh. Really?"

He nodded. "We talk whenever we can. It's hard. They're not from here. Depending on when I take a nap, I can either talk to them for a while or just ten minutes..."

"It sounds hard," Joshua nodded along. He'd sat backwards in his chair, leaning against the back of it with his chest, arms folded over the top. "So what are you doing to find them?"

Jeonghan said nothing.

"... Aren't you going to look for them?"

Jeonghan's gaze flickered up from his food. "I don't know. I don't know if they actually want to be found."

"That's--"

"We talked about it last time we met, a little over a year ago." He pushed around noodles more, never actually eating. "I'm in love with them. I don't know how they feel, although they said they'd rather kiss me for real when we meet. Then they said not to wait for them."

"It sounds like they're in love with you, too," he said.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "Then why tell me not to wait?"

"Well... They're not from here." Joshua rested his chin on his arms. "Maybe they don't want you to feel like you can't date or anything."

"Don't you think I've tried it before?" Jeonghan looked up. "After they said that, I tried to move on, and I spent the entire time comparing her to my soulmate. She's not them."

Joshua frowned. "Dude... If you spend the entire time comparing, them, you're not going to be happy--"

"I know that." Jeonghan let out a sigh. "I just... I tried being with other people. She wasn't the only girl I tried to date--or see at all." They're just my soulmate, and I realized how much I love them every time I try to be with someone else. But would Joshua understand that...? Or would he just sound over-dramatic for someone he'd never met in person?

"I... see." Joshua looked off. "I guess it's different when you know your soulmate."

Jeonghan softened a little when he saw the guilt on Joshua's face. "It's fine," he said. "I just... I wish I could go to them. I don't know where they are, exactly, and it's not like I can go find them."

Can't you? He pushed away the thought. The world was big. .He couldn't just go out and find you--at least, not without looking like a creep. As much as he wished he could just let go of that desire deep within him to be with you, even temporarily, he just couldn't. Not when he'd gotten to know you so deeply. He felt as though a part of him would always be with you now, and that he carried you with him wherever he went.

Joshua understood, though. He listened, and he gave Jeonghan his thoughts whenever he asked for him. Seungcheol would eventually do the same, once Jeonghan told him about his soulmate. Seungcheol hadn't shown any offense to not being told (it was Jeonghan's business, after all). And in the moments in-between, Jeonghan was with you in some way--either thoughts preoccupied with you or in the fleeting moments of sharing a dream space.

"I kissed someone," you confessed at one point. Jeonghan had been sitting underneath a tree with you, fashioning a flower crown out of the little yellow blossoms that littered the ground around him. You craned your neck to look at him, "Are you mad...?"

He shook his head. "Do you like this?"

At first, you didn't move, and he felt his heart falter. "I dunno," you confessed a moment later. "I feel like... Every person I meet, I keep comparing them to you. Like... Hannie would laugh at this joke. Or Hannie would think this. It's like... I can't get you out of my head."

His heart skipped a beat this time as he stared at you, his face growing redder by the second. "... Really?"

"I... I dunno. It's just--I don't want you to think I'm some sort of loser when we meet."

When. Not if. "So you want to find me?"

He saw the way you grew more flustered, eyes landing anywhere but him as you pushed yourself up so that you were sitting. "Yes. Are you mad?" You finally met his gaze. "I mean... I think I hurt you before. When I told you not to wait for me? And we never talked about it, so..."

Jeonghan set the flower crown into his lap, reaching out to cup your cheek. "I'm not mad," he said softly. "Not anymore."

"So you were mad."

He nodded a little after a moment. "At first..." He drew his hand back, shifting over so that he could sit closer to you. "At first I was hurt," he said, "because I thought you didn't want to find me. And... And I really wanted to kiss you, so I thought you were rejecting me, and.. I talked to my friends about it and they told me that it was alright to feel hurt, but that I was making assumptions about how you felt. So..." He dropped his hand down, pressing his palms into the grass. "How do you feel?"

"I've always wanted to meet you," you said outright. "But... I was talking to a few friends, and they kept asking questions about where you lived, and whether we'd get the chance to meet. It felt kinda mean," you moved closer, pressing your back against the tree, so that you could sit next to Jeonghan. "Like... They don't get a guarantee that they'll meet their soulmates. What makes us different?"

"Well, we know each other," he said, hand slipping into your own. "It's easier to accept things if you don't know your soulmate."

"I guess," you nodded along. "But... I dunno, it just made me anxious that we'd never be able to find each other."

"We will," Jeonghan said softly. "We'll make it work. I want to try."

Your hand curled around his, squeezing it tighter. "I want to try, too," you said, firm in what you were committing to. "Hannie?" You paused for a moment, "Jeonghan...? I want to be with you. I know we've never met in person, but can we...?"

He nodded. "Yes," he breathed out, reaching his other hand up to turn your face toward him. "May I...?"

You closed the distance between the two of you. It left him wondering if your lips would be this soft in reality. The last thing he heard was the sound of you saying his name, about to say something else when he found himself back in his couch, heart racing in his chest. He had jolted forward, fully awake out of nowhere, enough that it alerted Joshua and Seungcheol. The two were sitting at their little dinner table when they turned to see Jeonghan.

"... Bad dream?" Joshua called out.

Jeonghan just bolted to his bedroom, shutting himself in as he processed what all just happened. You kissed him. You wanted to be more. You wanted to find him.

And, fuck, he was going to do anything to find you now.

Most people gave Jeonghan weird looks when he explained his relationship to them. Yes, he hadn't met you in real life yet. No, it didn't really do anything to the relationship--it limited your dates, sure, but you had fun manipulating the dreamscape together to go wherever you wanted to go. Amusement parks with no waits for the rides, or this little cafe in your hometown, or a lovely park at night that Jeonghan walked through alone and wished you were there with him in reality. There were plenty of downsides, sure--neither of you could taste the food that you were eating, or feel the wind on your face--but you made it work and resolved to live these out once you found your way to each other. Sometimes people tried to challenge him: how could he have a relationship entirely with someone in his dreams? Didn't he miss the physical contact?

Which... The answer was a resounded 'yes,' but also it was none of their business. The two of you made it work, end of story. He'd eventually had a friend circle that accepted his relationship with his soulmate, although he'd become insistent that (when Seungkwan met his soulmate) his experience didn't count. That the two of you had agreed that your 'day one' of your relationship would be the day that you met face to face, just to make it easier to pin down a date. Everyone else had a date they could use as an anniversary, and you... Well, you and Jeonghan were different.

Although things had changed years later. All he knew at first was that he went to sleep one night, and you were there.

"... Jeonghan?"

And he'd stared at you, your name slipping from his mouth as he rushed over to you. "Are you sick again?" He frowned. "Honey, I wish I could be there to--"

"No, I... I moved. Remember?"

Right. You... You told him that you were moving for a job opportunity. It'd saddened him a little in the moment because both of you knew it'd make meeting harder, and yet all of that seemed to fade away in an instant.

"So you're...?" He didn't want to speak it aloud. What if it weren't true? What if...?

You nodded slowly. "I think... I'm closer," you said. "I'm in--"

The next few words seemed to dissolve into nothing, like his brain refused to register them. Jeonghan took your face into his hands, tears wetting his cheeks as he shook his head. Why can't it just work? Why can't their connection just let them have this now? You were closer to him. That should mean that the two of you can freely talk, and yet all he could hear was muffled words that he couldn't make out at all.

"We can't," he said, "we'll just... We'll have to find a way without saying names."

It broke his heart every time he saw you cry, and this time was worse. You nodded, though, hands coming up to hold his. "We'll find a way," you said. "Saturdays. I'll... I'll wait for you somewhere." Another name became muffled when you spoke it aloud, and you loudly swore as you broke away from him. "Coffee," you said, turning to him. "I'll... I'll always go to the same place near--" Again, your voice cut out. "Fuck--Just start looking, and--and we'll figure it out if it doesn't work."

"You'll stay there?" He watched you carefully. "All day?"

An eager nod, motivated by how close the two of you were now. "All day. Every Saturday until I find you."

And so it began.

Jeonghan... truly underestimated how many coffee places existed in this fucking city. But he went out every Saturday morning and spent hours upon hours searching for you. For months, that search came up empty. Joshua had offered to help, but Jeonghan turned both he and Seungcheol (and everyone, for that matter) down. He needed to find you himself. Maybe it was hubris, or maybe it was because he wanted to be the first one to meet you... He wasn't exactly sure anymore. A mix of both, perhaps. You could meet his friends in time, but Jeonghan didn't want anyone else to see you in person before he did. He'd known you this long. He'd been with you this long. He needed to be the first one to see you.

Three months ago, Chan met his soulmate. How much longer would it take for Jeonghan to find you? He approached the last place on his list for today, night having already fallen upon him. Maybe he'd change places with you, and have you running around looking for him. He'd try to pick somewhere more niche, though, just to make it easier on you. Jeonghan tucked his hands into his jacket pocket, staring down at his phone as he followed the directions to this place. It was a little out of the way, but maybe if he made it in time, he'd be able to swing by the bigger place not far from there. It closed earlier, sure, but it usually had way more foot traffic from what he could tell.

The thought that had been haunting him hit him again: would you even like him when you saw him in person? It'd been something stupid that popped into his head one Saturday a month ago, but it still shook him a little more than he expected. He'd seen you in so, so many dreams; he'd been with you, dating you, and yet it felt like there was a degree of separation. Those were his dreams with you, this was the real world where other people would get in the way. Where he couldn't just go to that cafe in your hometown with you, giggling about a silly joke one of you cracked, without having to travel to get there. He'd confessed his fears to Joshua once day, and Joshua had just stared at him.

"But you're in love with them."

"I know, but what if they don't love me once they see me?" Jeonghan had been curled up on Joshua's couch that night, a blanket draped around him. He toyed with the edge of it, fingers curling around the plush material. "It's different, I think."

Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god. You're so stupid."

"Hey--"

"Jeonghan." Joshua turned, entirely serious as he leaned in, "They love you, dumbass. I know your dreams are magical or whatever, but they still like being with you. You told me they trust you enough to cry on you and tell you about how bad work was, or about friend troubles, or enough to just say they need to cry because of stress. If things change when they see you, they weren't really in love with you. Dreams are whatever--you're still you."

Jeonghan had said nothing at first, letting the words sink in. Then when he looked up, he saw Joshua looking off into the distance, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "They're singing, aren't they?"

Joshua cracked a smile. Jeonghan knew him well enough. "It's quiet," he said, "but... Yeah. They are."

Jeonghan knew that while Joshua was the one who sang more often in his relationship, he truly loved whenever his soulmate would sing. He knew that Joshua had told them that, and they chose to indulge him in it a little more often. Jeonghan should take a video or a picture of this and send it to them: you broke your soulmate, btw, come get him. Then again... Joshua definitely had ammunition of his own. Videos of times where Jeonghan had woken up in a pleasant mood because he'd gone on a date with you yet again, always ending with Joshua telling the camera that he was ready for the two of you to meet already.

At the end of the street on the left. Jeonghan had begun to hurry at this point, already feeling his heart sinking in his chest. No. No, no, no, fuck--The lights were out, and no one was inside despite the website saying that this place stayed open for another two hours. There had been a piece of paper taped up on a window that said something about one of the coffee machines breaking down and causing a big enough mess that they'd have to close for the night. Shit. What if this had been the one? What if you were inside when the coffee machine broke, spraying hot coffee everywhere? What if you had been burned? Jeonghan wanted to kick himself for not getting here sooner, but he looked at the other shop that closed in less than ten minutes. Fuck. Next Saturday for sure. Maybe that would be the one.

He did what he always did. He called Joshua, and told him that, yet again, he had failed to find you.

"Aw. I'm sorry, dude," Joshua had said. "Are you sure you don't want us to help out?"

Before Jeonghan could respond, Seungcheol had spoken up, "We will! Just tell us where to go, and we'll find them. There's too many places for you to do it on your own. Stop being stubborn about this."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, glad that he had friends who cared so deeply about him. "No, it's fine. We'll find each other soon. I can feel it. We'll talk about it tonight and see if they can give me any details."

Of course, you hadn't before. Whatever was keeping the two of you from finding each other made sure of that. But they didn't need to know how many failed attempts Jeonghan had made at this point.

"Are you sure?" Seungcheol sighed. "I just don't want you to feel like you need to do this alone. We're all here for you. If you say the word to Seungkwan--"

Another warm chuckle. "He'll storm every shop himself," Jeonghan said. "That's why I haven't told anyone else yet. You know Mingyu would go out searching without telling any of us."

"You sound exhausted," Joshua spoke up after a moment. "Want one of us to pick you up?"

"I'll just take the bus. I think I'll plan my next move during the ride." Jeonghan tucked his other hand back into his pocket. He needed the time to lick his wounds and pick himself back up, too. "Maybe... I'll figure out a new plan."

"Just call me if you change your mind," Seungcheol said. "Get home safely."

"I will," Jeonghan said, and ended the call. He shoved his phone into his pocket, and let out a sigh.

Okay. Another failed Saturday. Jeonghan wouldn't lose hope, though: he'd find you soon enough. It wouldn't be as soon as he planned, but he would find you, and he would kiss you, and he'd never let anything tear the two of you apart like this ever again. Even with work trips and vacations and whatnot, Jeonghan would be happy to see your face again outside of his dreams.

The bus had slowed to a stop, and Jeonghan climbed on before taking a seat near the back. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by once the bus had lurched forward again. If the two of you could pick something less common, maybe you'd find one another sooner. He leaned against the window, watching the city crawl by as his eyelids began to droop. Next Saturday. He hugged himself tighter. Next Saturday would be the day. He had to find you then. Or maybe it was time to let his friends help him find you. What was the point of being stubborn about it all when he was taking away days he could be falling in love with you all over again?

"Hello...?"

He must have dozed off on the bus again, the sound of your voice making him open his eyes.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but when's your stop?"

You must have been teasing him again. "Wherever you want it to be," he said, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they always do. It was always easy to say such things to you. He looked up, and pauses, mind fuzzy for a moment. "Sorry, I thought you were my..."

And then it's clear. There you stood in front of him, one hand gripping the seat next to him and the other on the one in front of it. Your eyes widened as realization hit you, and Jeonghan was already rising out of his seat. The bus driver yelled something back at the two of you, but Jeonghan wasn't listening. And it seemed like you weren't, either.

"Good morning, Hannie," you teased lightly, already smiling at him.

Jeonghan only leaned in, thrilled that you closed the distance between the two of you. He cupped your face in his hands, nose brushing against yours as he tasted something sweet on your lips. Tea, he thought, or maybe some sort of dessert involving matcha or something. Your body was warm underneath his touch and so much more real than he'd ever dreamed of. But what about you? Did he live up to your dreams?

"I love you," he said softly when he drew back. Emotions surged in his chest: relief, joy, love. The freedom of no longer having to search for you crashed over him in waves, and he felt himself tear up. He roughly wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffling as he tried to hold back now. This wasn't how he wanted either of you to remember your first meeting, with him about to sob.

Yet all it took was seeing you cry for him to break, pulling you into his arms as he held you tight. The bus driver yelled back again, and he just reached back frantically, pressing the button to signal for the two of you to get off as soon as you could. And he left with you, hand in hand, as the two of you stepped out underneath the stars, already falling in love with one another all over again.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x y/n #yoon jeonghan fluff

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chososdiscordkitten · 3 months

Text

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt 10

pt 9 here

Content: direct cont of last chapter, just more unshamed flirting, uncanon hcs on how he grew up, MENTIONED of Choso seeing reader as untouched (?), small time skip for my own sanity. Choso is an ex smoker- ill circle back to that, talk of exes, not so much stalking- again, next chap will have that dw, some excerpts from Winnie the Pooh- another hc of mine, its happening guys. Word Count: 6.8k

(a.n) wow, a whole month and im barely posting, (sorry) new writing style too👍🏽 the lil .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . ₊˚⊹⋆ ⁺ . guys mean a different scene btw.

Taglist: @eristi @sunaumi @ex-ria @just-pure-trash @kha-0s @iluvreinah @iamboredowo @integers @waytootiredforthisss @1arminsimp @hannas16 @chosowhore @tojicvmslut @ofalcaodacolinablue @thesharkcollector @mochipip @hotvillianapologist @ziklope @saeline @morinuu @b3llair3 @24hrnanami

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Looking at you, Choso felt the sudden urge to tell you just how much he loved you. Sitting in his shabby apartment- not caring for the mess or how dingey it was. Still- you cared enough to go see him. He knew it was you- and it will always be you. Be it the dissolving cold medicine in his tummy- or if he really felt this way. In that moment, Choso was so sure he loved you, issues and all. “This is what happens when you spend more time outside than inside.” you hummed, being able to hear his ragged breathing from the chair.

“I hardly get sick.” he coughed, making you perch your eyebrows, all but saying ‘be real.’ He gulped, feeling his sore throat make it difficult to swallow.

“It's true.” he huffed, looking at you seriously. “You strike me as someone with a…” you hesitated, trying to find the correct word. Making him look at you with curious eyes, “-with a wavering immune system.” You grinned, making him nod his head in agreement. “You don't get sick?” he asked, tone sincere. “I never get sick.” you hummed, flaunting your health in his face. “It's been 3 years since I had a cold so-” you laughed, “I can truly say- I don't get sick.” he looked at you with believing eyes.

“You're right though- I do have a sucky immune system,” he sighed, twiddling with his thumbs in his lap, you hummed with a smile. “Too much of what growing up?” you asked, sensing it was caused by something from his upbringing. Choso grimaced, not wanting to admit it. Mind flashing back to the instagram story you posted at the beginning of the semester. Something about ‘why smoke when so many things are trying to kill you-’

You twitched your head, waiting for him to answer. He inhaled, looking away from you as though you were already scolding him. “I used to be a heavy-” he started, lowering his tone. “...smoker.” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut- waiting for you to start speaking. You sighed, making him turn his head over to look at you again, eyes squinted and arms crossed. Nodding your head ‘no’ disapprovingly. “Not anymore though-” he defended, not wanting to upset you. Face churned with worry that this was something you'd never forgive.

You gave him a half laugh, “Choso- I don't care if you used to smoke-” you furrowed your eyebrows, not knowing why he thought he had to defend himself to you. “I mean-” you started, seeing his face fall. “I obviously care if you do- but this was before you knew me.” You smiled, making him exhale the breath he held in his chest. “And besides, who am I to scold you on a bad habit?” you hummed, making him open his mouth to speak. “It doesn't bother you?” he leaned onto his hand planted on the bed, intrigued to hear your answer.

“It would bother me in a- ‘want you to be healthy’ way.” you droned, looking away from his face- being able to see small glimmers form in his eyes at your words. “But if it's your choice, and you want to do it. Don't let my opinions base your choices.” you assured, making him rest back onto his bed in ease. Pressing the back of his head onto the wall in thought. Even if you told him not to- he'd still use your words to make his life choices. ‘Because it is only you who I am trying to impress.’

Inhaling sharply at the feeling of heavy tension in the air, looking to his nightstand and scanning a small stack of books. Noticing he had some of the same ones you had on your nightstand. “Winnie The Pooh?” you asked, looking at his blushed cheeks and pinched eyebrows at your observation. “I uh- I used to read it to my brothers.” He mumbled, seeing your delicate hands pick up the green cover, flipping through the well cared for pages with a smile.

“I brought it with me knowing if I left it, they'd find a way to destroy it.” he laughed. You looked back to him as you gently flipped through the pages, smiling when you saw the small rips and folds from how long he had it. Noticing his slow blinks and how he was manually breathing now-

“All the years I spent repeating those pages and I don't remember a single thing from them.” he muttered, looking down at his hands- almost sad. You blinked back to look at him, “Why’s that?” you hummed with a small smile, secretly elated that he was finally opening up a little, instead of asking about you. “I never focused on the words.” he muttered, looking at the tearing corners of the green cloth cover.

“I think it's because I always tried to make sure they were entertained- that they enjoyed what I read.” he mumbled, seeing you carefully flip the pages. Knowing it held sentimental value, Choso looked at your gentle grasp on the books as though you were holding his heart in your hands. Using all the care in the world as you examined it. “How old were you?” you asked, closing the cover and placing it on your lap. Scanning his soft expression at your question.

“When you first read it to them?” You clarified making him bat his eyes down to his hands, unable to withstand the burning gaze you held to his skin. “Eight- maybe nine.” he mumbled, unpleasant memories flooding into his mind again. “Before your mom-?” you pressed, seeing his eyebrows furrow. With a small nod, he exhaled, “I picked it up one day. Not knowing I'd reread it for the next 13 years.” Choso scoffed Remembering the last time he read it to Yuuji, a bittersweet smile on his lips. “Sad huh?” he looked back at you, seeing your eyebrows curled up with sad eyes below them.

You inhaled, placing your hand flat against the book on your lap, “No, Choso. It's not sad.” You grinned, “It's actually really sweet.”, letting out a half laugh from your nose. Holding up your thumb and pointer finger, pinching the air “A tiny bit sad-” you whispered, making him let out a half laugh from his chest. “But sweet.” you assured.

Choso gave you a few slow blinks, feeling his throat dry. Closing his eyes in an attempt to blink, but keeping them closed. “M’tired.” he mumbled, making your shoulders tense- coming to the realization that you infiltrated his space uninvited. You widened your eyes, “Shit- sorry-” you whispered, placing the book on his night stand before going to stand up. Choso’s eyes flashed open, reaching for your wrist. Being able to fully wrap his fingers around it. Looking up at you with panicked eyes, a stare you hadn’t seen before.

“Stay.” he whispered, looking down at him with wide eyes, his grip on your wrist wasn't firm- showing you just how tired he was. “Please.” Soft tone making you blink down at him. It's not as though you needed any convincing.

You smiled, pressing your other hand onto his knuckles. Soothing his nerves, “Okay.” you whispered, sitting back down. “I'll stay.” you murmured, his shoulders easing as his cheeks blushed at the embarrassment. “Lay down.” you instructed, reaching for the book again. Furrowing your eyebrows when you saw him slowly easing into his own bed. Almost uncomfortably.

Choso looked over to you, resting his head lightly on the pillows to avoid the embarrassment of his bed frame collapsing. He huffed a pained laugh from his chest seeing your expression, “If I move too quickly- it'll break.” he explained, making you nod your head with a smile. “Now I know what to get you for your birthday.” you murmured to yourself, making him let out a weak ‘haha’, as his eyes threatened to close. His grip on your hand tightening, to be sure you wouldn't leave if he went to sleep.

Scooching the rolling chair closer to the bed, side of your thigh pressed against his mattress and you faced him. “I think it's your turn to be read to.” you mumbled, pulling your hand from his briefly and placing the book back on your lap, cracking it open, placing the spine between your closed thighs and holding onto his hand again.

Thumb brushing gently against his knuckles, as your fingers flipped the pages. Tender gaze staring at you as though this was the first time he was ever taken care of. As though this was a marvel.

Making sure to keep your tone soft- inhaling softly before you started, “Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now-” the words fell from your lips in whispers, gracing his ears as he looked at the afternoon sun peaking through. His eyes scanning your features- the way the sun peeked through your eyelashes, how you smiled reading the childish words. When you looked back to him to see if he was still with you, and how gentle you were. Holding his calloused hand as though he was made of lace.

Eternally grateful for the universe putting you here. “Isn’t it funny how a bear likes honey?” you spoke gently, fingers grazing the edge of the old page.

Being able to see every unique characteristic that graced your skin thanks to the warm sun. “It's a very funny thought that if bears were Bees, They'd build their nests at the bottom of trees.” you smiled at the silly rhyme, cheekbones glowing when you grinned. Unaware of how badly he yearned for you. How he missed you even if you were sitting inches away from him.

“How sweet to be a cloud, floating in the blue. Every little cloud always sings aloud.” hazy eyes looking at you through his eyelashes, parting his lips that threatened to speak before his mind caught up. ‘It’s you.’ he thought, feeling his lips move, the words at the tip of his tongue as you flipped the page.

Looking up at him from the book, making him close his lips, “It makes him very proud to be a little cloud.” you smiled at him. “Are you proud to be a little cloud Choso?” you hummed with a sappy smile, making him close his eyes and nod, “Only if you're a cloud with me.” he croaked quietly, making you tighten your grip on his hand before continuing to read.

Choso looked at you with a content smile on his lips, heart beating strongly in his chest. Blinks become longer and longer as you flip the page. Your words become mumbles in his mind as his blinking halted. His hand slowly went limp in yours as you continued reading softly.

Hearing soft inhales and exhales from him as you closed the book. Soft eyes scanning his expression, finding it adorable how quick he fell asleep. But the adoration churned to sadness- not knowing precisely why he was never read to as a child. But knowing he grew up always taking care of everyone but himself, you saw it in the way he spoke to you. In the way he tried sparing your feelings anytime he'd say something out of turn, and most of all you tasted it in the way he cooked for you.

Thinking how crazy it was that even if you had been friends with him only for a few weeks- you still felt sad for him. You felt. For him. Which was more than you could say for anyone else you had met in that place.

You huffed with a smile, looking away from him as you derailed your own train of thought. Now taking the chance to look around his apartment- at the walls, at the broken blinds, at the small kitchen. You looked back down to the hand that softly held yours, taking the time to admire them now that he wasn't awake to catch you.

Calloused- but they were warm. Tender. Brutish knuckles that you knew held power behind them, softly scanning the scars he told you stories about. Slowly pulling your hand from his grasp, grazing the tips of your fingers on his painted nails. Admiring how well you painted them.

Snapping yourself out of the daze you put yourself in, suddenly feeling very creepy for staring at your friend who was innocently sleeping. You nodded your head at your wandering thoughts, god. Here he was practically dying of the plague and you were being skeevy. With a sigh you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to think on what to do now. You didn't want to leave- but it seemed even weirder to stay. You inhaled, pushing the chairs' wheels back with your feet, standing up and looking down to him.

All but saying it since it was smeared on your expression, thankful he was sleeping or else he'd see it. Here he was- man who you put so much effort into flirting with. You see, with most men- they were easy. One little bat of the eye and a sweet smile and they'd do anything to take you home. But with him- he'd offer to take you home, without any ulterior motives.. Walk you up to your doorstep to be sure you are safe. Which only made the kindness you had easier to give.

So there you were, disguising your snooping as being kind. Taking quiet steps around his apartment. Not daring to actually open anything- but it was tempting. Hands behind your back as you looked at the small crack of his closet door. Squinting at it before looking to his kitchen, making sure to step quietly on the creaky wood floors. Looking back at him anytime a creak was a little too noisy.

Curious as to what was in his fridge- as good as he cooked he must have more than enough ingredients in his fridge, right?

Staring into Choso’s fridge, furrowed eyebrows staring at one old lime and a single bottle of ketchup. It looked sadder than the one at your own house did. You closed the white door and opened the freezer- nothing. You expected at least liquor- any college student with a fridge has at least a bottle to fall back on.

You looked back at Choso, almost scolding him in your mind. And with the sight of his sleeping face- the marvelous idea popped into your mind. Taking a few steps to stand above his desk, taking the pink post-it stack and a black pen before writing a small note. Smiling as you wrote the stupid words.

Placing the pink post- it on his night stand, smiling before looking down to his peaceful expression. Inhaling quickly before walking back to the entryway, coat in hand as you look back once more before opening the door- making sure not to lock it for when you'd be back.

Even in his sleep Choso heard the door close, but that's not what woke him. What woke him was his neighbor slamming their front door shut. Making him jolt awake in his own bed. Panicked eyes scanning the four walls of his apartment expecting to see you, only for you not to greet him when he woke. Choso felt a little disappointed. Mainly with himself for thinking you'd be here when he woke. That you'd wait for him.

He sighed, sitting up slowly and trying to blink away his exhaustion. Looking to his nightstand and seeing a misplaced post-it, small smile forming on his ill lips as he read your writing. ‘Had to go get a few things. be good and take ur medicine! I'll be back soon :) - the best nurse you will ever have,’ he smiled reading your initials at the bottom of the note.

And as you instructed, Choso took the medicine you placed on his side table, noticing his throat wasn't as achy as it was before you got there.

There was a hint of panic in his breaths, anxiety and trailing thoughts scared that you snooped. That you found something that you shouldn't have. Even if he hid everything- there was still the fear that he forgot something. Choso sighed and looked over to where he tossed his phone, faced down and silent. He picked it up and saw way too many notifications from his brother, with a sigh he returned his call.

Closing his eyes as the dial rang through his ear. Hearing the receiver click- ‘hello?’ He heard his brother's voice in his ear. “You called?” he huffed, knowing his voice sounded a bit groggy.

‘I was trying to cockblock you.’ Yuuji laughed, making Choso scoff and roll his eyes. Leaning an arm on the bed, knowing not to take his jokes too seriously. “You'd do that to your big brother?” taking a sarcastic tone, as he felt his brain pound against his skull.

Choso heard a quiet snicker come from the phone, ‘How are you feeling?’ Yuuji asked, Choso gave an exasperated sigh. “Better. I feel better. I think the worst is over.” Choso grumbled, hearing his brother let out agreeing hums.

‘Is your ‘friend’ still there?’ Yuuji asked in an accusatory tone, “No. No, they left.” Choso exhaled, flashing his eyes to that vent he hid his shame in. ‘Good thing or a bad thing?’ he asked knowing his big brother had a tendency to overcomplicate his own feelings. “I have-” he exhaled, staring at the door of his apartment, “No idea Yuuji.” he closed his eyes, feeling the confusion and those complicated feelings eat away at the illness.

He gave a strained laugh from his chest in disbelief, “I have no clue what I'm doing.” closing his eyes and remembering all the times you've tried to make a step forward. Only for Choso to take 3 back. “I’m fucking this up Yuuji.” he huffed, his baby brother was silent on the other line, hearing the worries spill from his mouth.

‘How?’ Yuuji asked, only wanting to gauge how to go about this. “I came here for you guys. To be better. For you all to be comfortable and happy.” he started, hearing Yuuji sigh through the phone, ‘I've told you a million times- you don't have to worry about us.’ His brother had assured him of this plenty of times. Choso felt small whenever he tried to talk about it but the day came when he felt a wisp of resentment in his heart. And he knew he had to talk about it or else he'd grow angry towards the reason he was put on this planet.

And it was true, Choso eased off a little. After a lengthy conversation with Eso about how it feels to be plagued with being the oldest- his brother assured him he was put on this planet with no purpose. He didn't have to live just for them.

Then came the tattoos and the piercings, trying to find himself in the body mutilation. Somewhere in his heart he knew he came to college to find himself too. Just like you did.

‘You like this person?’ Yuuji spoke up, throwing Choso out of his thoughts. It was a thought he didn't want to think, in his mind he loved you. It felt like true love when he was with you. But actually saying it- telling his brother that you, a person he didn't know a few months ago, had invaded his goal of being better for his family. It was a hard thing to say, and to think.

That he wasn't there just for his family and himself anymore, he was here for you now too.

“I do Yuuji.” he scoffed, hearing the smile form on his brother's face through the phone. ‘In a ‘this persons pretty cool’ or like how I feel about that actress from the hunger games?’ Yuuji joked, making Choso lean his elbows on his knees and smile, “Neither-” Choso scoffed, “In a way I feel consumed by them.” he mumbled, hearing pensative noises coming from the phone, ‘Maybe m’not the best person to speak to this about-’ he laughed, ‘I've never felt ‘consumed’ by how much I liked someone before.’ he admitted, making Choso nod his head disapprovingly.

Hearing footsteps darken his doorway- along with the brass doorknob turning, frightened that it was someone other than you. Only it was you- stepping into his apartment as though it was your own. Your shocked eyes looking at Choso’s face, not expecting to see him awake. “Sorry-” you grinned with a whisper, stepping in fully and softly closing the door behind you. Seeing he was on the phone.

‘Did they come back?!’ Yuuji blurted, “I'll call you later.” he mumbled into the phone, seeing you place handfuls of groceries onto the kitchen counter. Making his cheeks blush at how domestic this whole thing was starting to feel. His brother started yapping a million questions before Choso pulled the phone from his ear, “Later. Yuuji.” taking a stern tone as he clicked the red button on the screen.

In Choso’s heart he felt guilt- guilty for even thinking about questioning his devotion towards you. All he needed to see was that sweet smile grace your lips to remember how he felt.

“I didn't know what to bring- so I brought it all.” you huffed with a smile, unpacking the groceries from the plastic bags. Choso looked at you baffled at the unnecessary act of kindness. Looking at him with sweet eyes, “You look better.” You smiled with closed lips, Choso’s cheeks tingled at the tone you took. “Do I?” he muttered, pushing a few stray strands of hair behind his ear.

“Your color came back- Before I left you looked like a ghost.” You joked, turning around and placing a few bags of vegetables in his fridge, making Choso cringe knowing you had seen the sad contents of his fridge. “My uh-” he shifted on his bed, watching as you put away the various items you bought for him. “-brothers tell me I look like a ghost most of the time.” he smiled, hearing your shoes thump on the vinyl flooring.

You scoffed, looking at his face once more, tilting your head as you examined his features. Choso couldnt help but squirm feeling your eyes on him. You let out a small giggle, looking away from him before opening a bag of bread. “You do.” he sighed in defeat, watching your nodding head as you pulled out two slices from the thin bag.

“Shit-” you mouthed, looking up at him as you held the bread in your hands, “Can I… borrow your stove?” you grimaced, scanning his confused expression. “I'm starving.” you reiterated, noticing he made that face he made when his mind would run a million miles a minute as he thought.

What confused him wasn't the question- more like ‘You've already made yourself at home- why ask to use my stove? What's mine is yours.’ but what stuttered from his lips was, “Yeah- go for it.” as you reached into a cupboard, pulling out a charred skillet as though you were the one who put it there, your delicate hands turning the metal knobs on the stove.

Choso watched you from a distance- as though if he got too close you'd fade away. Watching as you buttered both sides of each slice before placing them on the skillet, “You want one?” you hummed, unwrapping the yellow squares of cheese and placing them onto the toasting bread.

Choso smiled, “I thought you didn't cook?” he spouted sarcastically, watching as you plucked a plastic spatula from the utensil holder, “Two pieces of bread and a slice of cheese is not cooking.” you retorted with a smile, flipping the toasted slices of bread. “Your opportunity for a grilled cheese made with love is waning, Choso.” you teased, seeing his face fall at the sudden words.

Nodding his head quickly once he processed your choice of words, “Plates?” you asked, even from a distance you were able to see his pupils dilate. He smiled, seeing your lips form a smile along with him. “How mad would you be if I told you I don't have any…?” he grinned, making you suck your teeth harshly, a snide comment forming on your tongue but holding it back.

Plucking two white kitchen napkins from the stray roll he had on the counter, placing the well toasted grilled cheese onto it before scooping it in your hands. Taking a few paces towards him, looking down at your feet as you stopped right before him. “You need plates.” you practically scolded, making him look up at you with a bashful grin. “I know.” he whispered, taking the napkin plate from your hands- his fingertips grazing against the back of your palm.

The feeling of shock from touching you diminishes with every purposeful graze from his hands. You irked your head, shaking off the goosebumps that formed on your arms as you walked back to the stove, flashing a few stares to him as you buttered the sides of your own grilled cheese.

Placing the toasted bread onto your own napkin plate, tying a small knot onto the bread bag, cleaning up after yourself as Choso held the sandwich in his hands. Waiting for you to finish so he could eat.

You looked up from the counter, huffing with a small chuckle, “Choso you can eat.” You flashed him a toothy smile as you turned off the stove, “M’waiting for you.” he spoke with all the honesty he could muster.

'I will always wait for you.’ he thought, a glimmer shining in his eyes as he bounced his knee slowly.

“Don't wait for me Choso.” you muttered, as though you read his mind, picking up your makeshift plate and walking over to him, sitting back onto his rolling chair as he watched you with a grin.

Nodding your head- practically having to give him permission to eat, raising the sandwich to his mouth and taking a bite. Following what he did as you both chewed in silence.

“Why'd you bring me groceries?” he spat, almost as though his mouth spoke before he could think about it. You thought about it- not having any real reason other than it felt like it was the right thing to do. “No man should have to live with an empty fridge.” you settled on that being a decent response, Choso nodded his head, agreeing with what you said.

“I'll pay you back-” he declared, seeing your face glow with a cheerful smile, “You don't have to.” you scoffed, holding the crumbly bread in your hands. “S’what…friends do for each other.” there- you did it again. You hesitated before calling him your friend. Choso noticed this since you tried to present him to your roommates friends.

“Why're you so nice to me?” he breathed, avoiding your eyes as he looked down to the sandwich. “Were back on this again?” you kidded seeing his smile fall- actually thinking on why you were being kind, “If we're being honest- you brought this up first.” He defended coyly, “Choso.” you called his name seriously, making his eyes bat up to look at you with a hung head, “I’m nice to you because I like you.” You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him.

“You're nice to everyone though-” he retorted quietly, trying his best to not let the blatant jealousy show through his tone. “I pretend to be nice to everyone, yeah-” you smiled, “But I have never been- this. Nice to anyone before.” You assured, your cheeks warming from his borderline possessive words.

Choso looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, all but asking ‘Really?’ nodding your head in response. “I promise.” Those words meant more to Choso than you'd ever know, it was as though you swore on the thing closest to your heart to him. Placing the sandwich onto the napkin atop your thighs, holding out a childish pinkie and looking at him with soft eyes, ‘Promise.’ you mouthed, Choso raised a hesitant hand, holding out his pinkie as he looked into your eyes.

Interlocking your pinkies as he felt the difference in size, “And I don't like anyone enough to be this nice.” You pulled your pinkie from his, seeing his expression show he wasn't fully convinced on the idea.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you hushed, seeing his eyes peek up and look at you through thick eyelashes.

Nodding his head earnestly, leaning in a little bit more, “I hate everyone in the world except you right now.”

The words you meant in a joking way- only saying them to make him lighten up. It wasn't as though they didn't have some truth- right now everyone sucked and he was the only one who cared enough to make things better.

But to him, those words were all but a confession- a confession that all this time he wasn't a crazed stalker who embedded himself in your life. Those words made his doubts of what he was doing disappear almost entirely.

“You mean that?” he spoke with avoidant eyes and blushing pink cheeks. You exhaled, earning Choso to look back to your eyes, “I do.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ . ₊˚⊹⋆ ⁺ .

After that illuminating morning spent with you, he made sure to be more cautious with what he'd say- how he'd act towards you. But his attempts at caution only made his slip ups more apparent.

The last week of January passed by in seconds to Choso, having you sitting next to him in the classes you had together made life easier. Classes spent drawing on his pale skin to pass the time, and he'd let you- Choso would try his very best to control the warmth that he was sure made his ears turn a shade of pink. But it's not like he had to hide his shamed blushes from you anymore.

Little by little your touch became a constant in his life- your soft hands pulling the rings from his calloused ones, fiddling with them in class as the professor spoke. Turning them while they were still on his fingers as his knee bounced nervously. Being able to smell your perfume- even able to feel your nails graze against his skin as you toyed with his jewelry.

The habit of him walking you home slowly diminished in the first week of February, now walking to his apartment to spend more time together more often than not. Playing kids board games on his apartment floor after he told you that- “I never really played them.” when you asked if he's ever gone through an entire game of monopoly, “I only ever over saw as my brothers played-” he smiled, seeing you look at him bewildered. “Y'know. To make sure no one cheated.”

To which you responded with ‘borrowing’ the board games from your house, bringing them to his apartment. Seeing it as an opportunity to get to know him better through the childrens games. What he liked most about the time spent playing the games was that you'd leave your phone on his kitchen counter, on do not disturb and faced down. He liked that there wasn't anything to distract you from him.

The topic of exes was brought up hesitantly by you- unsure if you wanted to know about his past in that aspect.

Sitting on the floor of his apartment, knees crossed as you faced each other, “Any past lovers I should expect on my doorstep?” You hummed casually, placing a green uno card onto the small stack, “Not that I know of. No.” he smiled to himself, “That you know of?” you asked sarcastically, seeing him place a card into the pile with a scoff.

“No. Don't expect any ‘ex lovers’ at your door-” he called your name almost in a scolding tone. You nodded mockingly, “Any at all?” you examined your cards as you plucked one from your stack. Choso looked at you- unsure of what you were getting at. “No?”

“No girlfriends- or boyfriends- or partne-” you were interrupted by Choso’s shoulders slumping with furrowed eyebrows. Silencing your question as he placed a card onto the pile, “...Can I ask why?” You chirped, seeing his low eyes look up from the colorful cards and think about it.

“There was just never time.” he sighed, feeling embarrassed by your curiosity. Making you nod your head in agreement. Choso didn't even want to think about your exes, how many there were or if you loved any of them. He liked picturing you as an untouched, pristine, glass statue- only to be held by him. And thinking that you will only ever love him.

“Even when you came here?” you pressed, his lips forcing a smile- “Nope.” his response was curt- waiting for you to place a card onto the pile. “Why?” your tone was accusatory- almost as though you were trying to dance around the real reason you were asking these questions. “S’your turn.” he mumbled, looking up from his cards and looking at you, “..What?” you asked confused as to what he was saying.

“It's your turn-” he spoke your name- flashing his eyes down to your cards as you inhaled, understanding what he meant. Picking a random card and placing it onto the stack, Choso looked at your parting lips- daring to keep pressing the question.

Even if he was starting to feel a sliver of irritation- he found it adorable that you were curious about that part of his life. “Choso.” you spoke, earning his eyebrow to arch before he responded with your name in the same tone you used. You sighed in defeat, making him tilt his head to the side. Thinking very hard as he skimmed through the distant memories of anyone he had a crush on growing up.

“Uh- there was my neighbor in the second grade- then in the fourth grade there was this girl who I used to chase around the playground- and then in middle school I started exploring the world of people I could like- then in my freshman year I got my first-” he babbled, oversharing the meaningless information that you asked for with a sarcastic tone, trying to prove a point. “Okay-okay. I get it.” you interrupted with a laugh “I don't see the point in talking about the past when it does nothing for us.” he spoke as he arranged the cards in his hands.

‘Us- I’m already calling me nd you,‘us’ he thought as you spoke “It helps me get to know you.” You defended, “You ever have a question- ask me it directly, please.” he smiled, “Don't dance around it-”

“Have you ever loved anyone?” you interrupted, Choso looked at you with tender eyes. “Like- love, love?” you clarified, only your question didn't need any clarification, Choso knew what you were talking about.

He nodded his head no, “No I haven't.” he admitted, looking down to his cards before picking one and placing it in the growing pile. “Have you ever loved anyone?” he repeated your question, for once, you were left scrambling for words. “N-no.” You admitted almost in defense, “There were times I thought I was in love.” you started, mentally Choso was cursing whatever person you loved before him.

“But I was just a kid. So no, I've never loved anyone.” you finished, placing a card on the useless pile, and gathering the cards since neither of you were really playing the game anymore.

The salty conversation ended right there, Choso didn't want to hear of your past relationships- and you didn't want to embarrass him further by asking again. But the tension in the air was gone the next time you saw him, bringing up how you were thinking of moving out of your house.

Choso’s hands picking upa stack of playing cards and shuffling them with his hands, “Why?” he asked, scanning your irritated expression as you thought about the roommates waiting for you. “People just- suck.” you smiled, seeing his hands carefully put away the cards in the torn up box. Standing up and walking towards the kitchen counter, eyeing your phone as his back faced you.

Knowing you wouldn't be able to see if he took a peek- just one peek.

Pretending to keep idle hands as he feigned looking at the game boards, “Your roommates again?” he asked as his hand inched towards your phone. Hearing you let out an exaggerated sigh, “Yes, they've been extra annoying recently.” you closed your eyes, waiting for him to come back with a new game.

Choso gulped, his fingers flipping the side of your phone quietly, “Why's that?” he mindlessly replied as your phone screen light up. Seeing you kept the family picture of him and his brothers as your background, “They've been nagging and nagging about how I don't do my ‘chores’-” you complained, “I'm not even there as much anymore.” you continued.

Choso’s eyes scanned the growing list of notifications- squinting his eyes as he saw a text from a contact named ‘asshole’. You sighed, defeated by the growing list of issues awaiting you at that house. “And I'm broke.” You closed your eyes, leaning on your palms as you leaned your head back. “Broke huh?” he muttered, scrolling as he smiled at your claim.

“Yup. No more sugar daddy money left- which is unfortunate.” You whispered to yourself. Choso heard it- but to protect his peace and not pick a fight over your choice of words. He ignored that little comment.

“Scrabble?” he mindlessly asked, “Nah s’too much thinking for me right now.”

‘See you later today’ the message read with a heart, Choso couldn't help but think that you were being lured into something from that message, “How about-” he trailed on, placing your phone back onto the counter quietly as you sighed, “Connect 4?” he picked up the battered box and heard an agreeing ‘okay’ from your lips.

Walking back to the dedicated ‘board game’ spot at the center of his apartment, sitting down and placing the box between you. “Y'know- I looked at these apartments before I chose to live in that house.” you smiled as he slid the lid off the box, Choso’s face fell- thinking of how cruel the world was for taking away the opportunity of having you as a neighbor.

“You didn't like it here?” he joked, making you let out a small chortle as he set up the blue plastic. “I just didn’t wanna be alone.” you admitted, seeing Choso hold up his hands- a red chip in one and a yellow chip in the other, taking the red chip from his hand before he pushed your chips to your side of the grid.

“And you're thinking of moving into a unit?” he scoffed almost sarcastically, waiting for you to decide where to put your first chip. “I mean- even if they're constantly freezing. I just might.” you admitted honestly, seeing Choso’s fingers hover above the slot. Staring at you as he pictured you being his neighbor.

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, “You don't like that idea?” you scoffed, seeing him nod his head ‘no’ before dropping a yellow chip into one of the slots, “You're probably thinking, ‘gee why not just move into my apartment while you're at it.” You giggled, dropping a red chip into the grid without thinking too hard, Choso titled his head- almost as though that's exactly what he was thinking.

“M’kidding. Choso.” You clarified, making him exhale at how flustered he was starting to feel. “It wouldn't be any different than it is now though-” you smiled, seeing his shaky hand drop a chip into the game- almost purposefully avoiding the ones you previously dropped, “I'm already here everyday.” you scoffed, unknowing your words were only making Choso’s ears burn below his hair.

“S-speaking of-” he found an opening of asking you the question that had been heavy in his mind ever since you brought it up, “I was thinking about- uh-” he struggled to find the words, “The uh….date?” he stuttered, blinking his eyes down to his chips and back at you.

“You remember that?” you smiled, if he was being honest- the words hit him like a ton of bricks aimed directly to his heart. “...You don't?” he asked- pained and saddened. “Of course I do- I just,” you grimaced, “Didn't expect you to remember.” you admitted, “Y’know, since you were dying of bubonic plague.” you joked as you dropped a red chip into the game.

“It was a small cold-” he defended, “And I do remember.” he continued, scanning your lax expression as he tried stepping through the seemingly difficult conversation.

“I wasn't gonna hold it against you-” you smiled, “You were feverish and on the brink of death-” you bantered, “I was not.” he defended himself, “You wanna take me out on a date Choso?” you asked teasingly- already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him again.

“Will you let me?” he blushed, you looked at him surprised by his quick quip. With a smug smile, you were thinking things that should not be thought of at that moment.

pt 11 here

IM SOOOO SORRY FOR TAKING SOO LONG, PT 11 WILL BE POSTED ON VALENTINES DAY..... HEHEHEHE... (when can I start writing about the intimate things ;-;)

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jarofstyles · 9 months

Text

Oh Baby, Baby! 4

It’s been a very long time but 🤭🤭🤭 here we go! Oh baby, part 4!

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing!

Warnings: pregnancy

WC: 3.6k

—-

Harry was absolutely insane.

Y/N was positive about that. She sat on the couch as she watched him bob about the kitchen, installing baby locks. Baby locks- and her bump was still little. Despite all of this, though, she found it stupidly attractive. His desire to be a dad, his dedication to the baby that was just a tiny little seed inside of her stomach, his already overprotective soul, it made her fall just a bit deeper.

The shift had been evident and obvious and neither of them had any awkwardness about it. It was no longer two best friends making a child- they were in it together. Harry was just as dedicated to Y/N as he was to their child. She had found that out relatively quickly. When they’d gone to the bar to meet up with their friends, Y/N and Harry both sipping on plain sodas as they caught up with people. He had gone to the bar to get her a bowl of cherries that she had been obviously craving since he had caught her looking at longingly in Sarah’s drink. He’d been approached by a very pretty girl that had her stomach twisting, seeing her place her hand on his arm which she had wanted to rip off violently. He had taken the slip of paper from her and nodded before heading back with the cherries he had paid a stupid amount for.

She had been quiet with his return, his heavy arm sloping around her shoulder like nothing had happened. He sunk back into his comfortable space, kissing the side of her head as she took one of the cherries to pop in her mouth. It felt bit hard to swallow when she did, the burning in her gut outweighing the sweetness of the cherry. Y/N hadn’t been able to hold back, turning to him after staying quiet for a bit.

“Are y’gonna go for it?” She asked,, trying to feign nonchalance. She had done a very poor job of it, though. Y/N was never one with believable poker faces. Harry could read her like a book.

“Who? Girl at the bar?” He asked with a quirked brow, shaking his head at her irritation when she nodded. Her slight pout and her irritated brows made him want to coo at her. She was so cute. “Why the hell would I do that when you’re right next to me? You’re the mother of my child. I dont need to look elsewhere. I adore you.” He turned her face, pinching her chin and pressing his lips to hers firmly for a chaste but loaded kiss. “Threw it in the trash on the way back. Told her I was an expecting father. Don’t need to go searching anywhere else.”

And that was that.

Now, doting dad and committed… boyfriend? Partner? Whatever their label was, he was exceedingly good at it. Phenomenal, really. He kept the fridge stocked with jars of the sweetened cherries and switched his cologne to a less spicy one because as much as she liked the other one, her pregnancy hormones absolutely could not stand it. He made sure to set up tea for her and get coffee if out because mournfully she was also sick whenever she smelled it. She was just hormonal and unhappy that someone else had hit on him.

Y/N had been grumpy lately. She didn’t mean to be, but with bouts of morning sickness and her breasts feeling a bit tender, a weird craving for fried chicken tenders with peanut butter, she felt irritated all the time. There wasn’t much anyone could do for that. That didn’t mean Harry deserved to be on the receiving end of her grumpiness, though. She felt a bit bad as she watched him walk back over to test out the locks, not seeming to be bothered by it visibly but… she knew he valued her a lot and the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was being mean in purpose.

Tears grew in her eyes, the sting making her even more upset. She kept fucking crying and she had been lucky to keep it from him this far, but it had only been a matter of time. A quiet sniffle was accompanied by rubbing over her eyes, not wanting tears to fall before she spoke. “I’m sorry, H.” She said, trying her best to keep her voice steady. Harry had quickly turned to look at her, concern etching over his features as he returned back to her side. “I shouldn’t have tried to start a fight. It’s not fair and you’re s-so lovely to me and I get scared you’re going to find someone who isn’t pregnant and whiny and eats weird things-“ she hiccuped, glassy eyes looking at his beautiful hands. It was hard to face him.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Y/N was full of emotion lately but Harry had thought he made it clear that he wasn’t ever going to leave. “Sweet girl… hey.” He grabbed her chin with his thumb, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. “I’m not upset. I didn’t even know you had seen that. I’d never do that. I don’t want to. What I want is right here.” He moved to cup her cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen down her cheek. Her stuttered breathing had him squatting in front of her, getting them eye level. This needed to be cleared up.

As much as he had been thorough in telling her that she was his, he hadn’t been proper in his declaration of need for her. “Look at me.” His instruction got her to look right at his eyes, a harsh swallow taken as she held her breath. “There is no one else. Maybe it’s my fault for not being clear, but I’m yours. Your partner in all of this, if you’ll have me.” Gentle strokes of the damp skin and the shaky breath exhaled as she took another second to absorb his words. “We made a sweet little baby inside of you, we’ve bonded but… m’not just here for the baby. I’m here for you. You’re what I want, and I’m sorry that I haven’t outright said it yet. I thought you knew how much I utterly adore you.” He got on his knees between her legs, still able to look at her face on as he brought her face towards him.

Delicately, he kissed over her skin. Feather light, soft and breezy, he kissed her forehead, her nose, her eyelids as she closed them to feel his affection. He was so serious about her that it grounded her a bit. Finally letting her body unclench, leaning her face into the pecks when he finished off with her lips. “I adore you too.” She mumbled back, holding on to his wrists. “I’m sorry. I- I kind of knew but we never spoke about it and when I saw you talking to her my mind panicked a little bit.” It was silly of her. Harry was right in saying he had made it clear she was his- her still slightly over sensitive cunt was proof of that alone- but the lack of clarification had gotten to her.

“Don’t need an apology from you. I know that if I saw a man talking to you, flirting… handing you his number? I’d be very annoyed. Not at you, but.. the idea. It pisses me off and probably wasn’t fun for you to watch.” He sighed, pulling back slightly to stare at her. “M’here for you and little baby inside of you. You both are my world. And I don’t want you questioning it again. Alright?” He squeezed her cheeks slightly with his hands, making her laugh through the last of her emotional tears.

“Got it.” She sniffed, welcoming the kiss he paired it with. “I- I still don’t think we need baby locks yet.”

“S’called being proactive, my darling.” He chuckled against her mouth. “Keep up.”

—————

Harry’s hand was threaded through hers as they left the appointment. Y/N was happy that as she was in her second trimester, but even more so, she was amused at her boyfriends antics.

He was diligent and doting on her, more than he had ever been before. The friend she had before had erupted from his cocoon, showing her a new side to him that she hadn’t anticipated. Protective, present, and so damn affectionate. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her. It wasn’t just sexually, either. The man always had his hand on her, lips pressing against some part of her body, fingers tangled with hers. It was very new, but very welcomed.

“So… soon they’ll be able to hear.” Harry mumbled as they walked towards the car. “So we’re going to have to play them some good music. Got to be careful what my child consumes because I will not have a kid with bad music taste.” He gave Y/N a look. “No radio for right now. I’ve got playlists, going to get the family plan for Spotify or something and then y’can use that.”

Y/N laughed under her breath, approaching his black SUV with a shake of the head. “Harry, I adore you, but please.” She gave him a look. “They’re going to be perfect. With a father like you, there’s no damn way our child isn’t going to know the ups and downs of rock n’ roll history.” Harry was quick to open up the passenger side door, holding on to her hand as he helped her get into the seat. “Besides, it’s mainly my heartbeat they’ll hear. They won’t start hearing a lot of external noise until the end of this trimester.” He had been on the baby websites.

“I know that. But we have to be safe, don’t we?” He was deadly serious, too. “We don’t know the exact time they’ll be able to hear it so…” he shrugged, making sure she was buckled before closing the door. Harry was already an active parent and Y/N couldn't fault him for that.

When he was in his seat and buckled, his hand moved the car into gear before finding its new favorite spot on her thigh. It still gave her little butterflies to feel him touch her so intimately, so casually. These adjustments had made her exceptionally happier in the last few weeks.

“What did you want for lunch, petal?” He asked softly, the music playing lowly after Harry adjusted the playlist. “Is it still chicken tenders? Or are you wanting something else?” The cravings had varied lately. Harry was never sure what exactly to get her so he waited for explicit instructions so they didn’t waste time or money.

“Can I have Taco Bell?” She asked, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “Want one of the freeze things and.. maybe we get the taco box? With all the tacos so we can have it for later too?” Her stomach was growling, in desperate need of some food. “Want some of the chips and cheese too. Maybe 2. Your child is making me stupidly hungry.” The grumble made him laugh. It was very much his fault, and he wouldn’t change it.

“Course we can. Tomorrow I’m going to the grocery so I can get us some good food at home. Strawberries and greens for your smoothies.” While Harry was never one to dictate how she ate, he did encourage her to eat healthy when possible. He would cook for them since they’d basically moved in together, but Y/N was feeling too lazy to cook most of the time.

“Hm. Yeah, I think that’s good. I’d like some crisps and stuff to make dip… maybe some rice. I’ve been craving baby carrots with ranch a few times but we didn’t have it.” It hadn’t been so much that she would ask him to go out and get it. She was still able to go but Harry did like to take care of her so far. It had been a bit of an adjustment but she was learning to love it. “Y’know, you’re spoiling me. Going to make a monster out of me. I’m liking this ‘having Harry go to the shops’ thing.” Her grin was wide as she looked over to him in time to see him fondly roll his eyes.

“Well… I’m going to take care of you. You’re my girl, you’re carrying my baby. I’ve always liked spoiling you. Just didn’t do it as much because it would have been a bit weird.” He admitted. The sun was high in the sky and the clouds fluffy and white. The air was warm enough for them to have the windows down a bit as they drove, and Harry really felt like his heart was full. Just getting to experience this and spoil Y/N the way he had always had a weird itch to do? It was fulfilling a spot in his chest that had been vacant for a while.

“That’s good then. I like being spoiled so I think this could work out.”

—-

“Harry!”

The call of his name from across the house had him jolting, running from the kitchen where he had been preparing their meal, up the steps and down the hall to their bedroom. You never yelled for him like that. His brain had been on auto pilot, running over as fast as he could in his socks- dangerous- to find Y/N standing with wide eyes as their folded laundry sat in sorted piles on the bed.

Her hands were over her bump, visible in the cornflower blue dress that hung over her form. Her eyes were wide as she turned to look at him, mouth open as he approached. His hands immediately grabbed her face, looking her over. “What? What’s wrong?” He pressed. “Baby- y’cant yell for me like that and not tell me. Is there something wrong?”

“No! I don’t- I don’t think so?” She squeaked. “I felt them move! Like… s’not a kick or anything but it felt real this time! Not just the flutters. It’s like… squirming?” Her eyes were wide as she looked down at her belly, the shock of truly feeling their baby moving around inside of her taking her for a ride. “I didn’t mean to worry you but I just- I panicked and was excited. I’m sorry.” The woman hadn’t meant to worry him too much.

Harry felt himself melt in both relief and happiness at the clarification. His heart rate could finally slow down. Perching himself on the end of the bed, he was mindful of the laundry piles as he pulled her body in between his legs. “I’m not angry, Angel. Not in the slightest. You just scared me. Thought something was wrong. M’much happier with this result.” Hands moved from her hips to over her forming bump, stroking over it tenderly.

She had told him about flutters recently, how they’d made her excited- but this was a very new and exciting development. “I didn’t want you to miss out.” She peeped, looking down at him. “In case you could feel something. I know you love them a lot already and I didn’t want to keep the first couple times.”

Harry was in love. He knew that before, but her little moment now had solidified it even more. His lips pressed over the clothed belly, tilting his head up to look at her with his eyes full of fondness. “Thank you. I researched it and I don’t think I’ll be able to feel much until the end of this trimester, but I love that you wanted to tell me.” The moment had been more than enough for him. “What did it feel like to you, though? Tell me.” Holding her body to him and his chin against the bump, he listened intently.

“It was like… I don’t know exactly. They were squirming and bumped into the side of the wall? It’s hard to explain. It freaked me out at first.” A breathy left slightly moved his face as it rested on the belly. “Because I sometimes forget that there’s a real human in there growing. It’s incredible, isn’t it?” She placed her hands over his. “Like a little flower. Planted the seed and now the sprout is growing a flower.”

“Hm. Little sprout? I like that.” He turned to whisper into her belly. “Do you like that, Sprout? S’a cute little name your Mumma and I can call you. We’re going to find out if you’re a girl or boy later on but… it’s better than calling you ‘baby’, hm?” Harry more than liked that. “Can choose to be whatever you’d like, but think you’re going to be stuck with the Sprout nickname forever. S’already stuck. You’re going to be married with children and I’ll be calling you it.” He joked, rubbing her hips as he looked back up at Y/N.

She was so beautiful. Sometimes it struck him in the chest, like right now, how lucky he was to have been given her by chance. She had suggested this and they hadn’t anticipated this sort of thing happening, but it was the best thing to ever happen to him. She had that pregnancy glow, the beam of her smile. No more morning sickness and instead getting to enjoy her bump for a while. The leg cramps hurt a bit, but she and Harry worked on it with the massagers and vitamins. She was truly thriving, and he was elated.

“You’re so lucky, Sprout. Me and you. We get your Mumma, and she’s the most perfect woman. You will be grateful when you come out to meet her.” He felt her gentle hands stroke through his messy hair as he continued to speak. “Hope you’re nice to her the rest of the time you’re sprouting. She’s giving you some good genetics to work with here. M’gonna have the prettiest babies with her.”

“Babies?” Y/N rose a brow. “Who said we are having more than this one?” Her heart beat a bit faster as it did sink in. He meant it. He wanted the long haul. It was so exciting, so comforting to know. Harry reminded her often how how much he adored her, how he was proud to be hers, but that confirmation made it feel way more real.

“Well.. s’your body, so you. But I’d like to be the one who gives you more babies if you decide that I can.” He blinked up at her. “I’m more than okay with one, if that’s all you’d like. But… I would definitely like some more if that’s something you’d offer.” Obviously he would never pressure her into anything she didn’t want, but it was something he had been envisioning.

A full house. A dog or two. A set dining room table and sports practices, plays, dance recitals. Siblings spats and groans when Harry would kiss her. Picnics and beach days where he would remind the children to walk, do not run to the water. Applying sunscreen to grumbling kids and holding Y/N’s hand through all of their firsts. Perhaps it was a big dream to ask to follow through, but it was something he desperately wanted.

“You’d really want that? We haven’t even had this one yet.” She asked softly, surprise evident in her tone. “You like them that much?”

“Love them. And you.” He looked up at her again, pulling his lips from her stomach, letting the words sit in the silence for a second. “Love you a lot, Y/N. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Want to build a family with you, a home. Not just a house or a flat. Want to do it all with you. You’ve been my best friend for a long time but I love you a lot more than that. You’re the person I’ve always wanted to be with but didn’t particularly know it. Didn’t allow myself to think of it. Now that I have a chance, I’m taking it. Keeping it.” And her.

Eventually he would propose, but he didn’t want her to think it was just from the baby fever. He loved her wholly before this but it had grown and changed shape and color. She felt like gold. Bright, shiny, priceless. Better than anything else he had ever seen and she had him wrapped around her finger.

“I’d like that.” She caressed the tops of his cheeks with her knuckles. “You’re my best friend too… and- and I think that there’s no one better suited for the job as the father of my children than you. I’ve loved you for a long time and it’s changed the meaning, like you said but.. I like that idea.” Building a home and family with him. Something so perfect to them. It wouldn’t always be, but they’d love it despite the imperfections and hiccups. She knew his heart, and it was pure.

“But to be honest? To me, you’ve always felt like home.”

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sempersirens · 3 months

Text

the fig tree | rotten

pairing: therapist!joel x f!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni. discussion of heavy and potentially triggering topics such as sa, self-harm, infertility, various mental illnesses, self-hatred and drug use. these topics are only mentioned and do not occur in real-time.

chapter summary: a twenty-something, seemingly lost cause, meets her match in the form of psychotherapist: dr. joel miller.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

updates: @sempersirenswrites

series masterlist

Maybe it was time to accept you were never as good as you'd always thought you'd been.

For four long years, you had spent most of your waking hours dissecting epic poetry and papyrology.

Still, the most your degree had done for you was rouse a satisfying disappointment from your mother’s side of the family when they realised you weren’t actually going to be that kind of doctor.

Not to say such in a self-deprecation; you hardly suffered from any semblance of an imposter syndrome. Your mother used to frequently remind you that you were far too vain to not believe in yourself.

It was more of a philosophical framework. Platonic realism. Knowing your muted beauty could earn you a free drink from below-average men who felt their trousers tighten when you addressed them through your eyelashes.

But it wasn't an obvious enough beauty for the attention of the men you imagined exchanging bodily fluids with between stops on the underground.

Besides, you had been a student of Classical Studies; a degree that doesn’t require the intellectual strain of learning Latin or Ancient Greek. The inclusive way for people like you, having attended a run-down state-funded school, to get a glimpse into the Bullingdon boys' and grammar schoolgirls’ fallback plans.

It wasn't even that you disliked Classics; you'd borderline gotten off on reading plays written by men about wicked women; but that was because the brilliant women were always the wicked ones.

You particularly enjoyed the assumptions men made about the female condition – how women were too wet, too porous; couldn’t keep their wombs from wandering. And assumptions they were. No Greek physician ever sliced a woman from chin to cunt to confirm their hypotheses. Although, ancient men hadn't been all too familiar with the insides of a woman anyway.

Sometimes, you thought you would quite simply die if you were reduced to only understanding people through your assumptions of them.

It was just that you could never stop thinking about what people thought. It was all you could ever think about. You wanted to peel people's skulls apart and scream at their horribly grey frontal lobe:

Are you ok? Have I done something to upset you? Do you still love me? Do I look like someone that has been raped? Do you think that girl we just walked past has a firmer ass than me? Do you like my new bangs?

For a short period of time, you'd been desperate to know how your therapist felt and thought of you. There is a sick irony in baring your bones to a stranger in the reclined chair opposite you who never even takes off their cardigan.

You needed to know if your traumas made him sad, or if he saw things that made him think of you outside of your sessions. You supposed he both pitied and admired you in a twisted, surrogate-daughter kind of way.

Then again, he probably wouldn’t have been a very good therapist did he not pity his clients.

At one point you thought you might be in love with him.

You'd met weekly in his high-ceiling office on a busy street. It was a romantic setting to unload twenty-four years of trauma to a kind man wearing a knitted cardigan. The sun would peak through clouds and shine onto the both of you through two large windows, between which sat a Japanese peace lily.

You soon realised he was just the first man to let you speak uninterrupted.

You spoke at him mostly, finishing observations that had been years in the making with “Does that make sense?” Even though you knew it made sense. You were certain, actually, that everything you had articulated came from somewhere deeper inside of you than any man could reach. You just couldn't leave it hanging there like an exposed nerve.

Maybe it was because he didn't speak much that you liked him. Sometimes he would offer anecdotes or remedies for PTSD-induced panic attacks that you both knew you would never use.

In most sessions, you had simply basked in the divinity of being listened to. You wondered if this was how devout Catholics like your grandmother felt at confession, or perhaps it was how all of your ex-boyfriends had felt.

You weren't even particularly attracted to him. He had been ten years older than you, and when your sessions first began, you'd been casually fucking someone a year older than him – but he didn't need to know that.

There were a lot of things you'd decided he didn't need to know. Like the fact you snorted cocaine until your nose bled, sliced into your thighs a couple of evenings a week, and let men use your body to masturbate as a feeble attempt to reclaim your sexuality - as if it had ever been anyone's for the taking.

Had he known the dirtier parts of your life, you feared he would have crossed out the word victim in his black Moleskin notebook and replaced it with bystander.

Maybe he would think you were a pathological liar and diagnose you with a personality disorder. This was something you'd been warned about by the first friend you had made at university.

“My mother is a therapist, you know. Don’t tell them you cut yourself or that you’ve told anyone you cut yourself – they’ll diagnose you with BPD.”

“But I’ve told you.”

“Trust me. They’ll put you on an SSRI and you’ll never be able to orgasm again.”

You were freshly eighteen and had never had a real orgasm anyway, but this terrified you enough to reel in your catalogue of symptoms for the GP appointment you had scheduled later that day.

In the end, you'd buckled and sobbed as the doctor sat adjacent to you. You didn’t mention the self-harming or the suicidal thoughts, but did tell her that you didn’t know where to go from here.

She'd slid a leaflet from the university's self-help website across the table before pushing her chair back and motioning toward the door.

“Call 999 if things get worse," she had said. "But let’s just hope it doesn’t get to that point. A&E is very overwhelmed at the moment.”

So you got on with it. Boats against the current, or whatever. You made the hurt so small and buried it so deep within you and swore you'd never let anyone get close enough to pick at the stray thread to your undoing.

And for a little while it worked. You became what you knew you should be; you presented your face for fucking and never let the door slam on your way out.

These days, you'd felt as though you were slowly becoming rotten.

It started on the surface; a bizarre case of adult acne that no dermatologist could diagnose for love nor money. Blood tests, topical steroids, antibiotics, potentially-baby-deforming drugs. You tried them all to little avail. In the end, it was simply the passing of time that had rid you of the rot.

Next, it had been your womb. Decomposing from the inside out. Your body had made the decision for you that goodness couldn't form in your guts.

The final straw had, embarrassingly, been your heart.

You hated to say it aloud. So much so that you hadn't. But it had been a quiet promise of yours; one you'd kept quietly close to your chest - that your suffering would never turn you ugly.

But here you were, alone and swearing at the wind, the rage beneath your skin growing like a tumour.

You hated it.

You hated yourself.

You hated that you were angry but had never been taught how to be angry, because anger wasn't a pretty emotion; it was one that should be starved and kept in the corner of your wardrobe to rot like black mould.

So here you stood: before a Victorian townhouse with your scarf furiously fighting the wind, droplets of rain threatening your freshly straightened hair, scanning various names scrawled on the building's buzzer.

S. PHYSIOTHERAPY

A & R SOLICITORS

J. MILLER PSYCHOTHERAPY

You bit the inside of your cheek and ducked further into the doorway, pressing the buzzer for the last option.

A voice had answered quicker than you'd anticipated, soon followed by a harsh buzz of the intercom.

"Come on up."

Dr. Miller's office was on the third floor.

You huffed, struggling with the combination of the stairs and attempting to wrangle your wet coat from your back. Amidst your struggle, you hear a door open somewhere above you, followed by a couple of soft and slow footsteps.

Your chin instinctively lifted toward the source of the noise, feet carrying you round and round the spiral staircase.

Light poured around his silhouette from the window behind him. It was ridiculous, actually. The sight was almost holy.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way up toward him. You felt as though you were on your knees beneath him, transfixed in supplication.

The sleeves of his blue cotton shirt were haphazardly pushed up just before his elbows, arms outstretched and fingers wrapped around the wooden bannister.

You were supposed to be actually trying with this one, not fantasising about the ways the veins in his arms probably bulged with his hand around your throat.

After being politely let go by your previous therapist, you'd promised yourself that the colleague he'd recommended to you, Dr. Miller, would be the one to fix you for good.

"Hello." He nodded, not quite managing a smile.

He reached a hand toward you, which you shook with the little strength left in your body.

"Hello." You tried your best to imitate his stoic cadence, your hand still tightly in his.

You let him break the handshake first, playing a petulant, one-sided game to see how quick he would be to scare.

"After you." He gestured to the room behind him. "Take a seat wherever you feel most comfortable."

"If there is any cowboy paraphernalia in that room I am not paying for this session."

"Excuse me?" His eyebrows knitted together, no sign of humour registering on his face.

"Your accent - it was a joke. I mean, I paid already anyway." You fumbled your words awkwardly. "Jokes are always much funnier when you explain them."

He cocked his head slightly. Hesitant to embarrass yourself further, you saw yourself into his office.

The room was dim for a space endowed with Victorian-style floor-to-ceiling windows. It felt like you could get lost in it, hide away, tuck yourself into a corner and be lost for days.

"I have your notes from Dr. Hughes." He said.

"Anything juicy?" You asked, still surveying the room.

You couldn't put your finger on the specifics of his scent, but it was familiar; like passing a man in the street wearing the same aftershave as your father, or a boyfriend you hadn't seen for years.

"I'd like to figure that out myself."

You'd eventually settled on the armchair positioned opposite his own.

You had briefly wondered if this was a test, that he would be psychoanalysing whether you chose the armchair or the adjacent sofa.

Maybe you'd failed already.

For the majority of the session, you'd gone through the necessary motions of admin, confidentiality, and what you eventually wanted to get out of therapy.

"I don't have the ability to fix you, y'know that right?" His question had caught you off guard.

"I know that." You'd replied meekly.

"It's just, I don't know what kind of promises Dr. Hughes made you. We trained together, you see. He had always been more, how do I put this, hopeful than I am."

"Oh wow. Forty minutes into our first session and you're already hopeless?" You were only partly joking.

"I'm a big believer in transparency, and I can see you were meeting on and off for a few years. I'm just intrigued as to what your end goal here is."

You bit down on your cheek, swallowing the ember of rage that was burning in your throat.

"Do you think I do this for fun? Carve out an hour a week to relive my deepest, darkest traumas?"

"Not at all. I just find it interesting that after almost three years of therapy, you still can't use the word rape. You've referred to it as the thing that happened four times already."

The rot crept up your throat, threatening to pour out of your mouth and fill the room with the ugliness that grew inside of you.

"What is this, some kind of tough love therapy?" You scoffed. Was he trying to get a rise out of you?

"It can be whatever you want it to be."

He was kind of annoying, actually.

The two of you sat in silence, defiantly holding eye contact with one another to see who would be the first to break. And when he finally spoke, it was more of a statement than a question.

"That's time. I'll see you at the same time next week."

"How are you so sure I'll come back?"

He smiled for the first time that afternoon.

"I'm not."

#my fic #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #tlou hbo #tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedrohub #pedrostories

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box-of-roses · 2 months

Text

'*•.¸♡ Machine Heart♡¸.•*'

Characters: Sakusa, Y/N

Synopsis: Sakusa is going to learn why you don’t take things for granted in the most brutal way possible

Warnings: Vomiting, Blood, CHARACTER DEATH, Crying, Regret

Words: 2k

A/N: I was listening to music and found this song. It really sets the vibes if you listen while you read

Valentine’s Day. How funny it all sounded to you now. You’ve been with the same person for five years. The first year was wonderful, he got you a bouquet of flowers and wrote you a wonderful heartfelt letter. The second year was okay, he still gave you flowers but ones you had already told him made your nose itchy. The third year is when it started going downhill and going fast. He worked, you can’t be too mad at him for doing his job…but he forgot. He had forgotten a lot that year. Your birthday, your anniversary. He hadn’t forgotten his teammates' birthdays. He hadn’t forgotten the anniversary of joining his team. He had forgotten you though.

The fourth year is when you started getting angry. Your lovesick eyes scanning the posts from friends of their significant others. The rings gleaming around their fingers. Why couldn’t he care again? What made him stop caring? You made a dinner and waited up for him to get home. When you awoke the next morning though you found his shoes by the door, the bedroom door closed and yourself still asleep at the table. Food ice cold and candles gone out. Light coming from the bathroom along with the sounds of running water.

The fifth year was when you started rethinking everything. You hadn’t prepared anything this year, too tired of being cast aside. So what if the flame of his love went out? You still had someone. It was when he posted a message for his friends telling them Happy Valentine’s Day. He couldn’t do something that simple for you? You started thinking of what you had done.

Your eyes kept staring at the simple post. Photos of him smiling with his friends. Telling them he cares about them even though he doesn’t say it much. That he didn’t know where he’d be without them and that he couldn’t live without them. You didn’t want to be upset at his friends. You’re not entirely sure that you existed. There weren’t any posts of you with him on either social media account.

He decided early in the relationship that it would be better if the public didn’t know. You just didn’t realize that also meant his friends. His family. You felt like you had wasted five years of your life. You couldn’t stop loving him though. He was still the light of your life. Even if you weren’t the light of his. That’s when you felt a tickle at the back of your throat.

You grabbed a glass of water and took a few sips. That didn’t help, it was a grainy feeling like you were swallowing sand. You rushed to the bathroom as the feeling went up your throat. Making it just in time you leaned over the toilet. As your body heaved flower petals came out of your mouth. So did blood. You had heard about this before. Hanahaki. You were going to die. You had been trying for years to get Sakusa to love you again. This was just the final nail in the coffin. Ha, coffin. You’d be in one of those soon.

Your body heaved again. More petals filled up the water. Blood splattered against the sides of the pristine white seat and walls. You knew you were going to have to clean it up before Sakusa got home. You wondered to yourself when he had become Sakusa again. When did he stop being Kiyoomi? Was he ever really anything other than Sakusa to you? More petals fell out of your mouth. It was getting hard to breathe and your vision went black.

You’re awoken again by the door opening. Your eyes fluttered to life. He was finally home. On Valentine’s Day. The day you realized you weren’t going to be alive for much longer. What a sick joke everything seemed to be. You flushed the toilet and began to clean up the mess you made. You heard a knock at the door. Checking your appearance in the mirror you took a paper towel and wiped away at the blood coating your lips and edges of your mouth. Opening the door you’re met with the man who caused this demise.

“I’m going out with my friends tonight. I trust you’ll be safe while I’m gone.” You nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go have fun with your friends!”

“I wasn’t asking permission. I just found out you were home and didn’t want to be questioned first thing after stepping through the door.” He turned around and you closed the door. Maybe this was for the best. He talked to you so coldly that you actually shivered. You didn’t want to just give up on life but you didn’t want to subject anyone else to your problems. Perhaps any proof of your existence was already wiped from the house.

There was one photo of the two of you in your bedroom. Not his bedroom. Your bedroom. You had been okay with having separate rooms in the beginning. You had a lot of things and so did he. What was so bad about having separate spaces and spaces where you were able to be together. Except you were never together anymore. There wasn’t a shared space. The house might as well be yours because of how little he was there.

You knew he wouldn’t be there often. I mean he had away games all the time before you moved in together. But it was different. You felt your eyes well up with tears as you reminisced about the past. At how sweet he used to be. The apartment seemed much colder than it had been before he came home. You didn’t dare leave your bathroom though. You didn’t want to run into him. He was about to go out and seeing you would ruin his day.

The pricking in your throat started again. At this rate you were going to be dead before the day's end. It was harder to breathe than before. You rushed to sit back down. You didn’t want to hurt yourself more than you were already. You should have left him. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But, you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him no matter how much it hurt to stay. It hurt more to think about leaving. As flowers came out of your mouth you wondered who would be at your funeral. Tears ran down your face as you realized he would show up. But maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would pretend he didn’t know you.

What was he going to do when he found your body. It would be limp and grey, blood lost and flowers around your lips. They began sticking as the blood dried. You wondered if the flowers at your funeral would be the same ones you were currently choking on. This disease is poetic in a way. Love and flowers were both beautiful if taken care of properly. Love could sprout and blossom and cause more things to grow. Love could also hurt. It could grow thorns and you could bleed and choke and cry. Love could be just as deadly as it is life giving.

You knew that the next part was the thorns. The stems and sharp edges scraping your throat as they would come up. You couldn’t stop crying. Why you? What had you done to deserve this besides being unloved. Is it really your fault that he didn’t love you anymore. You felt it was unfair. Why didn’t he throw up flowers? Why couldn’t he feel what you were feeling? You were back to anger. The tears were hot as they rolled down your cheeks.

You picked up one of the flower blossoms. They were beautiful. Blue. White in the center. The disturbing factor was the blood that got caught in the folds and tears of the petals. The way it dripped onto your hand. The contrast of the blue and red. It made you think of the contrast between the two of you. Your vision started going in and out again. You grabbed the water you brought with you and drank more of it.

You tried to clean yourself up as you picked yourself off the floor. You looked terrible already. Because you knew what was going to end you left the bathroom and picked up your phone. The object that started this mess.

That observation wasn’t fair to your phone. It wasn’t the phone’s fault he didn’t love you anymore. You wrote messages to your parents and friends wishing them well. You set it up to send in a couple of hours. With how quickly this was developing you figured you’d be gone by then. Funny. The universe didn’t even try to give you a chance to fix this. It had as little faith in someone loving you as you did yourself. Your eyes no longer welled up with tears. You were coming to terms with what was going to happen. You wrote your last note and went back to the bathroom.

The letter was sat by the door. On the little table where you put your keys. You silently secluded yourself as you felt your lungs fill up with flowers that wouldn’t come out.

It was a few hours later when Sakusa finally returned home. As he set his keys down he noticed a note. He picked it up and began reading it.

‘I’m not doing this to make you feel guilty. I would like my funeral to be a small affair. Please let my family know this wasn’t their fault. I loved you. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you, you’ll find me in the bathroom. I wanted the least amount of mess cleanup for you because I know you hate blood. Thank you for caring about me in the beginning. I love you, take care of yourself.’

The paper fell through his fingers. What did you mean he would find you in the bathroom? His feet carried them to your bathroom. He was scared to open the door. When he did his fears came true. There you were flowers growing out of your mouth. Blood plastered around your mouth. And skin, your skin was grey and you laid there lifeless.

What had he done. He could have prevented this if he continued loving you. He should’ve continued loving you. He does love you. He loves you now that he can’t have you. He misses the things you would do for him. He misses you.

He sits in the bathroom for hours. Just holding your hand. Wishing he realized this would happen. He feels so stupid for requesting the things he did. He regrets not showing you off when he could. He regrets not loving you like he should. He wishes he could kiss you and you would wake up. He wishes he could wake up and that it was a dream.

He wishes he could love you like he used to. He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he hears a knock at the door. His stomach growls and his throat feels dry. His eyes are red and puffy as he swings the door open. Atsumu is standing there. He hadn’t heard from his friend for two days. Seeing his state he comes in and hugs him.

Sakusa pushes him off. “It’s my fault. I’m the reason they’re dead.”

“Who’s dead Omi?”

“Y/N.” Atsumu doesn’t ask who that is, he can tell that Sakusa cared for you. He’s curious why he had never heard of you before. He doesn’t want to push him right now though. They sit there for the rest of the night. In the couch in your home, surrounded by the things that reminded him of you. Atsumu only gets up to make them food. Considering Sakusa’s state he figured he hasn’t eaten. He wishes he could do more.

Sakusa tells him not to go into the bathroom in the master bedroom. Atsumu doesn’t ask why. Atsumu just hugs him and lets him cry.

I hope you guys enjoyed! I got this request and thought it was perfect to post for Valentine’s Day. My askbox is open if you want to send in a request. Like this was, you can find that here. If you liked this consider checking out my other works! Love you guys!!! <3

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

Masterlist

#hq x reader #haikyu x reader #shroom writes #haikyuu angst #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa imagines #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #haikyuu sakusa #hq sakusa #sakusa angst #sakusa kiyoomi angst

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