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mikhailwrites · 7 months

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Wash the blood off my hands / Ghost x Soap

Kinktober #20 - Showering (from the SFW prompt list)

“Keep the pressure on!” Ghost barks out as he frantically rips through the plane, searching for a medkit.

Gaz doesn’t say anything, but he does put his weight down on Soap’s chest more, pressing the bundled cloth to the wound. His hands are drenched in blood, glistening and slick with it. Soap’s life is literally in his hands. On them. Around them. Trickling down on the metal floor of the plane.

Gaz is thankful that Soap is unconscious. If he weren’t, he’d be screaming in pain now, perhaps trying to shake Gaz off. There are not many things worse than holding your brother in arms down, causing him an ungodly agony because it’s the only way to help him. To save him.

Gaz is doing everything in his power to keep the blood in, but it just keeps oozing out all around his hands. “Ghost!” he calls out, desperate. He doesn’t have to shout; the only way to hear each other over the hum and rumble of the engines is their comms. He knows Ghost is doing all he can, but that’s just not enough. Their help is not enough. For a terrifying moment, Soap’s laboured breathing stops, and Gaz freezes. Then Soap takes another breath. “GHOST!” Gaz shouts.

He feels hurried, heavy footsteps reverberating through the floor, and then Ghost kneels next to him. He’s found the kit and is now tearing it open, spilling its contents on the floor, rummaging through it for scissors. He finds them quickly and gets to cutting Soap’s tee. Once it’s done, he cleans the worst of the blood around Gaz’s hands, preparing to relieve him from his duty with a gauze and pressure dressing at the ready.

They quickly switch, Ghost applying the dressing just as they were taught. Stacking a few sterile pads on the wound, applying the pressure gauze, making sure the adhesive holds. Ghost moves quickly and purposefully, and soon enough, both Ghost and Gaz sit back, taking deep breaths to calm themselves.

Soap is very much not out of the woods yet, but they manage to stop the bleeding. His chances just went up significantly. They stare at their comrade with dull gazes. Adrenaline abating, the novelty of Soap possibly dying wearing out, becoming just another part of reality now.

“I can’t lose him,” Ghost admits quietly after a long, heavy silence. It’s weird to hear him in the comms, even when he sits so close to Gaz.

Gaz weights his responses. The first impulse is to say that they won’t lose Soap. He can’t know that, though, and in this line of work, nobody wants empty platitudes. “He’s one tough motherfucker, you know that.”

Gaz looks at Soap’s worryingly pale face, then turns to Ghost, who lifts his gaze as well. “I cannot lose him, Kyle,” Ghost repeats, and there’s something in his eyes that chills Gaz to his bones. He knows Ghost is attached to Soap. Price knows, as well. Hell, everyone knows. Soap and Ghost are a package deal. If you want one, you get the other for free. If you mess with one, the other will come and mess you up. Gaz is worried about Soap, obviously, but he also cannot help but be just as worried about Ghost. The fact that the bullet Johnny caught was meant for Ghost, and it would’ve, beyond any doubt, killed him on the spot, is only icing on this fucked up cake of theirs.

Soap makes it. It’s way too close a call as he flatlines two times, and even after that, it’s touch and go for two more days before the doctors manage to stabilise him. The only reason Ghost is still at least marginally functioning is because the moment they landed, Price barred him from seeing Soap, telling him that he would keep him updated.

Unfortunately, marginally functioning Ghost turns out to be a proper cunt. He’s downright insufferable. Gaz takes over his recruit training rotations because, on the first one after their return, three poor sods had quit on the spot. Anyone not required to talk to him gives him a very wide berth.

Well, everyone except for Price and Gaz, who do their best to keep their Lieutenant occupied. Giving him work to do, trying to convince him to go to a pub with them. They even go as far as to bribe the cook to make Ghost’s favourite food.

Nothing really works. At least about a week in, Ghost gets a little bit better. Soap is still in a medically induced coma, but he is healing and out of immediate danger.

Soap returns after a month. He’s lost some weight, enough to be immediately noticeable, is paler, and his smile is not quite as bright as usual. But he’s back.

“Johnny,” Ghost says in a way of greeting, but no matter how hard he tries to play it cool and casual, his voice wavers and his hands tremble.

“Simon,” Soap smiles, his gaze lingering.

Price groans, putting out his cigar. “Glad to have you back with us, son, but for Christ’s sake, I can’t stand your pining a minute longer. Do as all a service and work it out like adults,” he waves his hand as he turns around and leaves.

Gaz stifles a surprised laugh, but he grins as he gently squeezes Soap’s shoulder. “He’s got a point, you know,” he tells Soap quietly before he goes on about his business.

They do work it out. The exchange is so simple it’s almost comical. A pair of “Do you...?” followed by “I thought...” leading to Johnny laughing and Simon groaning. Neither of them is sure if the kissing is something Price wanted to include in the “work it out” phrase, yet they don’t care enough to stop.

Of course, they do stop eventually, and as they part, Ghost scrunches his nose. “You reek of a hospital,” he explains, seeing Johnny’s questioning look.

Soap chuckles. “Aye, guess I do. What’re you suggesting?”

“A shower,” Ghost says, looking at Johnny as if he half-expects him to refuse.

Soap, however, readily agrees. Simon helps him out of his clothes, wincing as he notices just how much weight Johnny really lost. He’s still captivating and devastatingly handsome in the boyish, rebellious kind of way. Furthermore, Simon is reasonably sure he’d find Johnny beautiful under any circumstances.

He only pauses once he sees the scarred, puckered skin where the bullet entered Soap’s body. Soap catches Ghost’s hand. “Come on, I’m cold,” he urges him on, even though it’s a lie.

It works, Ghost nods and leads them to the bathroom, closing the stall and starting the water. The injury doesn’t bar Soap from washing himself, but Ghost is not giving up any chance to touch him. In many regards, it’s like seeing Soap for the first time. Unlike communal showers or hurried washing during the deployments, he’s allowed to watch and to touch and to admire.

With a slight startle as Soap touches him in return, he realises that it works both ways. Johnny’s eyes are roaming across Simon’s body, catching on the scars, tracing the muscles with his hands. He knows his body is a lot to take in. Knows it’s off-putting to some. Not to Johnny, though. He never, even for a second, thought that Johnny would mind or be repulsed.

They’re both wet enough by now, so Ghost shuts the water and gets the soap. “Are you going to make that pun, Simon?” Johnny asks, a challenge clear in his voice. He’s tempted, of course, and Johnny is not helping. “Come on, I know you want to.”

“I’m better than that,” Ghost resists, pouring the gel into his palm and rubbing his hands together before he puts them on Johnny’s shoulders, gently massaging as he spreads the white foam.

Johnny closes his eyes and hums contentedly, relaxing under Simon’s touch. “I don’t think you are, Simon.”

“Fuck… alright. Time to put some soap on Soap,” Ghost grunts out, not even proud of himself.

Soap snorts. “Certifiably rubbish, sir,” he rates the joke, seemingly unimpressed. Ghost simply shakes his head and focuses on Johnny. Once he’s nearing some more interesting bits, he hesitates. It simply feels too soon and out of place. Soap is probably bloody clairvoyant since the next thing he says is: “Don’t worry, I don’t think I can get it up anyway. Kinda out of form, and some of the meds they gave me just fuck me up.”

Simon looks at Johnny, feeling his eyes tearing up. He doesn’t deserve this man, not by a long shot. He doesn’t trust himself with words, so he opts for a nod before resuming his care. It’s gentle and slow. It would be undeniably erotic, too, if not for the context. Maybe next time. Or the time after that. They do have the time now, Ghost realises. He carefully embraces Soap, their bodies sliding and slotting easily against each other. Simon closes his eyes, focusing solely on the feeling of Johnny pressed against him.

They don’t say a word. Not when Simon lets him go, not when he turns the water on again, washing the Soap off of them. Not when they step out of the stall, and Simon hands Johnny a towel.

Ghost looks at the scar again. It’s an eternal reminder of Ghost’s debt and of Soap’s devotion to him. Only then does Johnny speak again. “Ye ken, it’s nae gonna disappear if you keep staring at it,” Soap says lightheartedly, smiling and colouring his words with something warm.

Ghost tears his gaze away from Johnny’s chest, looking into his eyes. “I hope it did. I wish that…”

Soap shushes him, putting an index finger on Simon’s lips. “I dinnae wanna hear it, Ghost. It was my choice.”

#call of duty #ghost mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap #soap mw2 #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #whump #hurt/comfort

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siremasterlawrence · 9 months

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Frat Hypnosis: The Five

Don’t you hate it when your friends demand you join them on a campus trip that I well unfortunately have to be a part of as they literally drag me out of the house.

I am in the car with my asshole best friend Brenton who is in just a tee shirt, short tight pair of jeans wrapping on his waist and sexy.

He presses the button on the Raghu as it hit our senses blasting loudly into both or pit ears as we drive a long the coats I can see him turn to me.

He points at me in utter excitement saying I am so quiet when will I open up I had more then enough of this bullshit smacking him across the head.

He laughs a bit of it hysterically in a crazy yet fun, authentic and honest way as he is smirking at me. I roll my eyes continuously at his actions.

Cracking up at it I slip my pin into the radio as it emits a buzzing sound blasting through the radio hitting him like a eargasmic senses of emotion.

His facial expression went blank as he drove down the road way his cock rises beginning to stir upward as it points straight from his pants.

I giggle a bit reaching for it because In the base of a buzz the track induces a deep sexy tone pulsating in to his body as he is vibrating.

His ass began to shake a bit his nipples are pump, his pecs super strong bounce move upward and downward causing his shirt to pop open.

This is my chance taking action my hands are a go feeling him up every Inch and tight crevice spots of his body as he gasp in lust and desire.

His mouth flows open, tongue hanging from his mouth, the drool trickling down on to his face, he has this stupefied expression over his face.

He is so lost in his own haze of power heavy struggle spinning round and round with me rubbing his back and then I lay my head on his shoulder.

My lips attach to his neck kissing up slowly to him as we vibe together both heart beats begin to match and I make my way from the passenger seat.

Sitting behind him now my arms fully length going outstretch onto his shoulders continue to rub him his neck bends back, and I can smell his scent kissing him down.

“Brenton, we are more than friends because I am your Master. Master Lawrence is my real name, you will answer me sir yes sir and you will obey my every command.” I whisper into his ears controlling his new narrative as we arrive to the beach house.

“When you wake up on my command you will do exacts as I instruct you, you will park the car exit it going for a walk.”

“Yes park and go for a walk.”

“You will strip off your clothes and wait by the water.”

“Stand by it staring in to the lake but do not move.”

“Yes, Master Lawrence “

“Go!”

“Sir Yes Master Sir”

“Anyway! I can focus on the rest now “

“Hey Lawrence over here”

“Hey Zach! Catch”

“Woah! What’s this?

“Press the button”

“Ok sure weirdo”

“Whatever”

“Bbbooommm…ffflllaaassshhh”

“Uuuuggggghhhhh….what the fuck happen to me?”

“You are my slave, you love me and will obey everything I say.”

“Sir Yes Master Lawrence

“Colton is barbecuing”

“Hey Colton buddy “

“Hey Lawrence “

“Say cheese”

“Cheese”

“FLASH”

“Bbbuuuzzz”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“What…is…so…funny?”

“Remove your spatula”

“Spin to me”

“Focus on my eyes “

“Yyyeeesss”

“I am your Master”

“Yes! Master Lawrence “

“Good boi”

“Take a knee”

“Don’t worry the barbecue will be fine”

He can’t but smile scooting over on hind legs to my side he places his hands on my waist holding my hand and kisses my palms with love in my eyes.

“What do you wish of me?”

“Get back to work on my dinner “

“Yes Master”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“You are my bitch”

“I am your bitch”

“Pussy bitch”

“Sir Pussy Bitch Sir”

“I love when you touch my ass”

“Do you ?”

“Yes! Grope it “

“Hey Lawrence”

“Dustin?”

“They say you wanted to see me”

“Did you “

“Listen? I did “

“You will address me as Master Lawrence “

“Sir Yes Sir”

“I am your Master”

“Your king”

“Take off your clothes “

“Hell yeah”

“Say fuck!”

“Do a dance “

“Striptease”

“Yes sir!”

“Spin for me”

“You are my property “

“My slave”

“Kill it “

“Blow me a kiss”

“Between my legs”

“Touch me”

“Embrace me”

“Kiss me”

“Mmmm”

“Taste like candy “

“Not that song”

“It’s cheesy “

“I love it”

“Yes Master babe”

The end

#brenton thwaites #colton haynes #robbie amell #zac efron #dustin milligan #hypnosis #mind control #hypno slave #hypno submission #reprogramming #frat house #The Hypnosis Frat

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capriciousleo · 1 year

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OKAY GUYS, IT’S HAPPENING!! While I totally love Genshin and the Harbingers, I still am an astrology and tarot account, which means... I will be combining these two and share very interesting series and posts with you all, my lovelies!!

∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴

Part 2, 3

So, my first post in “Fatui Harbingers Natal Charts” series shall be:

𝑫𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑬’𝑺 𝑵𝑨𝑻𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑻

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Sun- Gemini

Moon- Capricorn

Mercury- Cancer

Venus- Aquarius

Mars- Capricorn

Rising- Leo

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First of all, I would like to say that this man gives heavy earth energy for some reason that I didn’t expect😭. He’s very duty-and-goal-oriented, and you can rely on him to complete his job. Even his short phrase — “Jester, I have completed the task you gave me.” gives very Capricorn vibes. Also, agreeing to the negotiation for killing off his segments for a Gnosis... a pretty frosty Capricorn move — Capricorns will do whatever it takes to achieve their goals, and their methods may be shocking to people because of how cold and sharp their decisions can be. And the experiments he makes??💀💀 This man doesn’t feel anything, and it’s also his Venus to blame. But we will get there. Also, the way he hates his time being wasted and he clearly voices this out is another trait of Cappies. However, this doesn’t mean they won’t invest in something that should bring harvest in the future.

It was difficult to pick between Aquarius or Leo rising, but you guys see my verdict lol. Yes, he may come off as disturbingly weird and innovative, but the way he holds himself commands awe and respect — his tone, speech, body motions. Wherever he goes, he takes up the space. Remember his behavior and body language in Sumeru in the scene where he manipulated the citizens — he’s very prideful. He is confident in his abilities and this feeling oozes out of him.

All of the fcked up weirdness, innovativeness, being open to possibilities... I believe it comes from his Aquarius Venus. He enjoys and thrives to learn and experiment on something new. His methods were unacceptable and out of the norm, for which he got expelled from Akademiya and thrown out of Sumeru and he’s still salty abt it lmao. He’s also very detached, which combines with his Capricorn. ‘Emotional intimacy’ is not in his vocabulary — don’t even bother, he will call it ‘silly’, and this being the lightest word I used.

NOW. His Mercury in Cancer... it’s DARK. OKAY?? And I’m sure it’s at a very high degree. I was originally thinking to put Cancer Mars cuz it also fits him, and this placement is completely FCKED UP (many many serial killers have this exact placement and that’s something I found out myself). All of his experiments??? The Underground Arena??? All of the plots and manipulation of literally everyone and everything??? Literally the whole plot revolves around the aftermath of his actions that always affect everyone in Teyvat. And guess what? He is not going to stop nowhere soon. The way he made Scara unlikeable both for regular ppl AND the Fatui members on PURPOSE just so Scara is dependent on HIM AND HIM ONLY. ‘Oh, look, Scara, I am the only one who didn’t turn their back on you and can keep up with you. You have only me.’ Ofc, Dottore needed Scara’s powers. That’s an unhealthy Cancer placement for you. He knows where to press where it hurts the most, and with his Capricorn placements? Oof. He damn knows how to use his words and combine emotions and logic in his manipulations. Dottore is literally a walking “The Traumatizer-3000” machine.

Sun in Gemini is pretty self-explanatory. He is witty, intelligent, unconventional, and enjoys learning and has great oratory skills.

P.S. Share your takes/ thoughts in comments if you wish! I’d love to discuss tee hee💛 And now, I’ll go watch Zydrate edits of him since they flooded my tiktok fyp fhsksksk. Also, excuse if my writing seems kinda funky and hard to understand, I was writing this at 2 am🤠

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dragonofeternal · 8 months

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Zooming in on those tags. Tell Me

I want you to know I literally cackled aloud in delight when I saw this message.

Okay. So.

~*~Legato Quadrant Shipping~*~

Legato ♥ Knives Not so much in an ooooh I think their love is so totally canon uguu~ way (I think your post about the insurmountable wall of mutually insane bullshit between them is a really great breakdown of all the stuff they have both for and against them) but in a way where like...

Legato is devoted to Knives utterly and completely. This devotion is of a sort that it consumes his bodily autonomy and turns him into someone who makes himself a weapon purely to advance Knives's goals. He is pitiably obsessed. This obsession doesn't need to be reciprocated either; he is content to be of use, to be acknowledged for that alone.

He ALSO (although he would never, ever admit it to an outside party) can see the edges where Knives is weak. He held him with his threads when they first met; he senses the shift in the air when Vash and Knives clash on the arc the first time and knows that if he doesn't intervene, Vash will absorb Knives. Knives lets him live despite knowing and seeing these parts of him, and Knives relies on him, even if he won't articulate that's what he's doing.

Legato ♦ / ♠ Elendira Much ado has been made over the years about ships with red/black flips, but I'm here to tell it to you straight and say that the REAL shit is a good pale/black flip. The way that mutual respect and mutual annoyance are inexorably linked!!! They way that only someone who hates you soooooo bad can know your weak points in a way that would allow them to cover for them!!!!!

It's pretty clear that Elendira doesn't like Legato- she takes clear annoyance that Legato is the only Gung Ho Gun without a number, she """jokes""" about killing him for being useless in front of Zazie, she drags him back from the Dragon's Nest riddled with her nails. While Legato's own feelings on her seem to not be quite as aggressively negative, he does still act petulant and dismissive around her when she tries to antagonize him.

And yet... it's not all just hate. While Knives is the one who sends Elendira to rescue Legato from the Dragon's Nest, Elendira herself tries to intercede and stop Legato from interfering in the fight between Knives and Vash because she feels he'll be outclassed and smashed like a bug. She's clearly impressed and grateful when Legato saves them from Zazie's treachery, AND when the poison takes effect on her, one of her first thoughts is to wonder if Legato is already dead... enough so that she drags herself to where he should have been. When Elendira dies, Legato senses it and takes a moment of pause in his fight with Vash before promising he'll join her soon.

I'm always grrr about things that try to simplify moirallegience into just "TEE HEE BESTIES" -- I don't think a moirail/kismesis flip relationship between Elendira and Legato would be the sort where they're braiding each other's hair one day and stabbing each other the next, but I think there's a lot you could dig into with their relationship as one of mutually respect for each others' power, mutual annoyance that Knives gives the other the time of day, and an irrepressible need to make sure that the other gives their ALL in everything they do.

...And now.

Allow me to show you my final big brained quadrant thought:

Legato ♣ Wolfwood ♣ Vash GETS UP ON A CHAIR WITH A MEGAPHONE: KNIVES APPOINTED WOLFWOOD TO AUSPISTICE BETWEEN LEGATO AND VASH!!!!!!!

Cuz like. For all that Legato is sometimes in spades for Elendira THERE AIN'T NO INTENTIONS MORE PITCH THAN THE ONES LEGATO HOLDS FOR VASH THE STAMPEDE. Vash nearly killed Knives. Vash's pacifism irritates every viewpoint on how Legato sees the world. Legato wants to fucking destroy Vash until not a single speck of him remains.

And that's a problem for Knives because like. Mmm, holds back a yawn, you know he's kiiiind of fond of Legato cuz he's useful, so he can't have anything happen to Legato. And as for Vash, well, no one's allowed to lay a finger on Vash but Knives (because he wants him in every quadrant like a desperate fool what) and if he lets Legato's dysfunctionally aggressive blackrom play out it's gonna end with one or both of them dead.

INSERT NICHOLAS D. WOLFWOOD, PROFESSIONAL KILLER BABYSITTER AUSPISTICE. The Punisher's good at doing stuff, right? So he can follow along and make sure things don't get too unbalanced between Vash and Legato! Problem solved.

Except that Wolfwood is painfully outclassed by these two freaks of nature, an issue made more complicated by the fact that Vash never saw a problem he couldn't try to pale/ash flirt his way through before vanishing into the night but wait maybe he wants more than just helping Wolfwood and vanishing into the sunset??? Also Vash isn't stupid and can tell somethings up??? And so whatever tangled mess is going on with vashwood is there mucking up this perfectly good auspisticeship while Legato makes CRAAAAAAZY faces in the bg.

(And then Wolfwood dies and Legato is free to pursue his blackrom with Vash to the beautiful conclusion of finding meaning and joy through testing his strength against Vash before finally fulfilling the dysfunctional end we all knew was coming the end.)

ANd uh yeah that's my Legato quadrant thoughts.

#trigun #legato bluesummers #doemeta #trigun meta #long post #meta #homestuck #quadrant shipping #I just love quadrants okay they're such a fun way to break down character dynamics #elendira the crimsonnail #nicholas d wolfwood #millions knives #vash the stampede

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squirrel-fund · 1 year

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Hey Auds! How are you doing darling? Any headcanons on your mind?

ANON XX!!!!

I'm doing well, sweetheart! I'm writing a lot, but unfortunately, when that happens, I tend to shut myself off from going online. So, I'm creating, I'm happy... I'm just a bit distant lately.

Anyway... that was not your question lol

Okay! Headcanons! This one was brought on by a powerful storm we had here a few days ago, and it got me thinking about our Mickey.

I reckon he absolutely HATES thunderstorms. Not because he's scared of thunder or things that other people might fear when a storm is on the horizon, no, Mickey hates what happens within the walls of his childhood home when it storms. They say, when it rains, it pours...

I imagine when it stormed in the Southside, all the Milkoviches were forced inside the family home, and you can imagine the scrutiny all the kids must have faced if Terry was out of prison. I'm sure that's how that fucked up "game" they all played with the Nazi Knife was born... during a thunderstorm. Because what else can a piece of shit sperm donor do to entertain his children?? Throw a damn knife at them, obviously.

I also assume Terry took these moments to search the kid's rooms. For cash, pills, guns, shit he could possibly sell. I'm honestly surprised Mickey had a guitar, like wtf, I bet someone stole that quickly. Course, it was probably stolen anyway.

I bet Mickey tried to lock himself away in his room but that was a bust because 1: The bathroom was in Mickey's room until they apparently rearranged rooms in the house and B: I guaran-fucking-tee that Terry did not allow locked doors in his house. I can literally hear this conversation:

Terry: *kicks in bedroom door* "Don't fuckin' lock my damn doors!"

Mickey: "It's my fuckin' room!"

Terry: *most likely uses violence against Mickey* "Do you pay the goddamn bills?! This is my fuckin' house and I'll rip every damn door off the hinges if I want to!"

Mickey: "No one pays the bills here... s'why we don't have water! Or heat!"

Then Terry's like, "You want water?!"

And he drags Mickey outside, in the storm, and shoves him down into a puddle. (Puddle doesn't sound very menacing but I believe it would be)

Then, of course, Terry trashes Mickey's room looking for shit he wants. Probably rips Mickey's drawings off the wall too and calls him a pussy because "drawing is for girls."

Mickey has probably sacrificed himself many stormy days so that Terry won't feel the need to visit Mandy's room. It honestly breaks my heart to imagine a little Mickey picking a fight with Terry just so his sister is safe.

Okay, enough of that because it makes me sad lol

But now... well, now Mickey finds that he kind of likes stormy days. He can draw in the living room while his husband reads. They can shut everything and everyone off, just spending their entire day warm in their bed, wrapped up in one another. And it's not always sex either. Sometimes, they just nap or other times they just talk.

They discuss their favorite shows together, or maybe they discuss upcoming birthdays and what they think the person would want. Sometimes Mickey has setbacks, tho. A nightmare or just a flash of a memory while he's brushing his teeth, but it's okay because he'll never have to endure that life again.

#as i wrote this i got another headcanon lol #gallavich #auds answers

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thevalleyoftriumph · 2 years

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can you talk more about DarkMango...? i am hungry for content/lh/nf

HEHEHE OF COURSE ANON sorry for taking like two hourz to get back 2 u i waz playing a game w a friend

i put Too Much Rambling so im shoving it all under a cut

anywayz mmm. darkmango. :] i like to think that while both dark and mango arent the best people they genuinely do make each other better. not even realizing it, sure, but they encourage each other to be better people! [dont get me wrong theyre still fucked up and evil villainz but theyre just nicer sometimez now /hj]

ive got a few doodlez lying around where theyre literally just holding each other and staring fruitily into each otherz eyez /hj itz nice . i like to think they both know how to dance, be it from learning on their own or one teaching the other !! sometimez theyll dance w each other :] im a cheesy bitch so my favorite thing ever iz imagining characterz waltzing together itz cute to me

hmm. mango iznt a huge fan of spiderz, but despite that, he iz Very interested in darkz virabotz i think. hed pick one up and sorta look it over and ask dark a bunch of questionz, and obviously dark will w/o hesitation just fuckin infodump about them, which i think mango would do that thing where someone iz listening to someone they love talk and they just stare at them w the most love stricken face ever, just pure no thoughtz, head "i love thiz person so much."

darkz a very animated talker too, id think, so youd have thiz contrast of one guy very animatedly talking and waving his armz around excitedly and the other watching with almost literal fuckin heart eyez, head on the hand and everything LMAO

they probably act both like a new highschool couple [ie, very touchy, stupid/cheesy pet namez, all in all being very loud and open about it] and also simultaneously like those cool unclez at family gatheringz that have a job theyd probably get in legal trouble for lol, all cool n shit. definitely the type of guyz to be the "partnerz in crime" type of couple.

ohh speaking of that, if they were to actually 100% team up and try to take ppl down, they would be a TERRIFYING opponent. forcez to be reckoned with for real. like, you got a godlike entity that can destroy the very thing that makez you up [ie, code], and ANOTHER guy thatz trying too hard to be a god with a staff of an item that can decimate you INSTANTLY if he so chosez. they both just choose not to do thiz bcoz a, dark likez his family, and b, mango likez being a king with power over people, not an empty world. lol. so yknow itz a win-win for everyone involved.

oh god theyre probably the kindz of ppl that are alwayz like . near each other in public. like alwayz gotta be holding handz or shoulder to shoulder or even one of em sitting on the otherz lap while talking to someone else, not even in a weird way just in a "i NEED to be making contact w my bf right thiz instant if i dont i will DIE" way yknow /j [touch starved mfz /j /j /j]

dark would hype mango up for shit like fightz or just taking over villagez n shit. like "fuck yeah baby you get their assez u can do it ily" type stuff lol.

mango on the other hand would be more of the type to silently encourage dark? like while dark would Literally stand on the sidelinez and shout encouragement, mangoz more the type to quietly encourage shit and supporting dark. bringing him stuff he needz for his little virabotz, giving him a kiss or something of the sort after winning a fight, hell, hed probably fucking clap for him lol

hmmm. thatz all ive got so far but :] i really do like theze two i need to draw them more tee bee aych. im glad therez other darkmango likerz out there lol

#sure ill toss thiz into the maintagz #ava dark lord #avm mango #darkmango #||#kitkat chitchat

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

Can I request a prompt of dad!Harry where maybe it’s just him And Sasha and they get mobbed and her slightly hurt but he is furious

JUST A LESSON

word count: 5k+ (how'd i write this in one day)

warnings: language, smut, blood, minor injuries

- If you'd like more from dad!harry verse - check out my masterlist! (pinned post)

- PLEASE NOTE: DAD!HARRY & CEO!HARRY ARE TWO DIFFERENT TROPES.

*** <- click for visuals throughout the story!

---

Harry was quite stressed out. He wasn’t sure how his wife did it all the time. She was constantly packing up Sasha and toting her around the globe to meet up with him for concerts and events when he was away.

The little family had been staying in their Los Angeles home for nearly three months now as Harry had been writing for his third solo album. It involved a lot of late nights were Y/N were putting Sasha to bed by herself.

Harry was eternally grateful that she was so patient and understanding when he snuck into bed quarter past three after finding a rift that fit a new song perfectly or when Mitch had an idea that had Harry on Skype for hours with him.

The stress was overwhelming for her though. She was usually good at self-care and taking time for herself but Sasha had been so needy lately and crabby when her father wasn’t at her beck and call.

The toddler was going through a bout where she struggled to sleep through the night and had a tendency to scream bloody murder when she didn’t get her way.

It was nearly three weeks of this and she hadn’t mentioned it too much to Harry because she didn’t want him to be as stressed out as she was.

Tonight, Y/N had rocked, sang, hummed, and read to her daughter to stop the angry tears that were rolling down her cheeks but nothing was working. It was near eleven at night and she had took Sasha out in the car for a long ride where she finally fell asleep.

But as soon as Y/N unlocked the front door, she startled awake even angrier than before, squirming out her mother’s grip and bolting through the house. When she tried to round a corner, she slipped on her bum.

Y/N felt her anxiety level break.

Sasha began screaming once again, “Mummy! No! No!”

When Y/N picked her up after her slight tumble, she was absolutely not hurt but had become even more frustrated. Y/N was starting to feel overwhelmed - which didn’t happen often.

“Baby, what do you want? What can mummy do?” Y/N asks with desperation, searching her baby’s watery green eyes. She looked so much like her dad it was absurd.

“No! Down! Stop!” The two year old orders with a furrowed brow, lips in a tight line with her nose scrunched up in displeasure.

“Sasha, you just hurt yourself. You can’t run in the house, the floor is slippery,” Y/N tells her firmly despite it falling upon deaf ears.

“Bad mummy,” Sasha shrieks, “Daddy! Want Daddy! Now!”

Y/N is embarrassed to admit that she has tears welling up in her eyes. She was trying everything in her power to soothe her baby. It’s midnight at this point and she’d been at it since seven this morning.

Sasha had refused a nap all day - giving Y/N no respite at all. Harry had left at eight in the morning and hadn’t returned yet. Even though Sasha was only two and a half, Y/N felt a pang at the words ‘bad mummy.’

She didn’t feel any other option at this point than to call Harry for help. She wanted to be capable of being at stay home mum but sometimes it was really fucking hard but she felt guilty because she should be able to do this. Harry was out there working hard, providing, constantly.

When he doesn’t answer, the tears freely start streaming down her face in silence. She scrubs at them quickly so that her daughter doesn’t see them but it’s hard to catch them all - sobs threatening to bubble through her lips.

“Daddy’s working, we need to go to sleep,” Y/N replies to her daughter, jaw clenched to hold back the upset she feels. She needs a minute alone but she doubts her toddler will let her.

“Pool?” Sasha piques, “Swim?”

Y/N wants to laugh, it’s so fucking late and Sasha should have been in bed nearly four hours ago. The mother was so beyond her routine at this point, that she actually just gave in to her daughter.

Sasha’s mood turns around when Y/N wrangles them both into their swimsuits ***and trails out of the back patio, switching on all the lights around as well as in the pool. The California air was still extremely warm, enough to cause a sweat. ***

She tugs a little donut raft into the pool with them that Sasha can float around on while Y/N guides it to keep her safe. She was so tired by this point that her bones felt like they weighed a million pounds.

Sasha’s eyes droop until they finally flutter close within minutes of being in the warm water. Her eyelids splotchy pink from all of the fits and tears from the day. And when she is completely asleep, Y/N lets herself cry as she continues to float the baby around the pool to keep her asleep.

She hasn’t been doing it for more than ten minutes when the patio door opens and Harry is stepping into the back with a confused expression that she can’t see because her back is turned to him.

“Love, why are you in the pool? S’late,” Harry asks softly but he doesn’t get an answer, so he’s slipping out of his plain tee and striped pants, dirty vans kicked to the side ***.

Just in his briefs, he quietly enters the pool to not disrupt the ebb and flow of the water. When he makes his way over to her, he slides in front of his wife, alarmed at the exhausted, tearful expression on her face.

“Baby, what’s happened? Talk t’me,” Harry whispers, hands coming to cup his wife’s face in between his large hands. Rings cold against her hot, wet cheeks. He looks to his sleeping daughter, running his eyes over her a few times and decides she seems completely okay.

“M’fine,” Y/N chokes out but the lie causes a fresh wave of tears.

Harry frowns, “Don’t lie to me, pet. Please, don’t shut me out. M’always here for you.”

“I’m a bad mum,” She sobs silently, her eyes closing as she leans into his palms before moving to rest her head heavily on the crook of his tattooed shoulder, his chest damp from the salty tears.

“Wha-What’s brought this on? Y’the best mum in the world, best wife in the world. The best at everythin’, why are you doubtin’ that, my heart?” Harry murmurs, taking over the rocking motions of Sasha’s raft.

“She wouldn’t settle today, Harry. Like at all, refusing to nap, eat any healthy food, or bathe. She screamed at me the whole day no matter what I did and then she told me I was bad and she wanted you.”

“Love, she’s in the midst of her terrible twos. She loves you more than anythin’ on this earth. Y’her mummy and a damn good one at that. Why didn’t y’call me? I’d come home, work is never more important than our family.”

Y/N doesn’t bring up the fact she did try to call, “I need to be able to do this myself, Harry. M’a stay at home mum, taking care of Sash is literally my only job and I can’t even do that.”

Harry’s face hardens but he tries to not take it personally, knowing his wife is just upset with herself, “That’s not fair to me, dove. M’her daddy, she’s half mine too. She’s just as much of my responsibility as yours, no matter what my job is.”

“I don’t want to stress you out more than necessary,” Y/N mutters into his skin.

“Me coming home to my wife in tears and my baby in the pool at midnight is more stressful than you ringin’ me to come home,” Harry tells her, smearing a few kisses to the top of her hair.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m just tired.”

Harry pulls her back so he can look her in the eyes, “Never apologize for somethin’ like that. Go get a bath and let me put the bub to sleep, okay? I love y’mumma.”

Harry calls his mum the next morning while Y/N is out getting a manicure with Glenne. He’d called her favorite salon earlier in the day, coercing them into opening a spot for her with a monetary bribe.

Y/N had hesitated at the door as Sasha threw a fit at her mother leaving the house. She clung onto her calf until Harry had to physically pull her off and hold her tightly in his arms.

Currently, Sasha was playing with a set of dolls on the floor of her bedroom as Harry sat next to her. She’d originally been happy with the presence of her father until he told her he needed to make a phone call.

Harry had to be stern with her when she went to grab at the phone pressed to his ear, gently gripping her wrist and frowning, “We don’t do that, s’not nice.”

Sasha had attempted to grab at it again and managed to tangle Harry’s long locks into his fist, tugging at them. Harry unraveled the small fingers before telling his daughter, “If you do that one more time, y’going on the step for two minutes.”

The threat had her pouting harshly but turning back to her toys to occupy herself, sighing when his mum finally answered the phone, “Hi darling.”

“Hi mum, you alright?” Harry asks, relaxing at the sound of his mother’s melodic voice.

“I’m perfect, you don’t sound okay, dear,” Anne replies with a concerned twinge.

Harry didn’t call much to complain, didn’t like worrying her and most of the time Y/N was able to provide the support he needed or Jeff.

“Y/N’s really overwhelmed,” Harry tells her before choking up a bit, “And I don’t know what to do mum, I feel like m’bein’ a bad husband. Came home to her crying last night and she feels like she’s a bad mum.”

When Sasha hears her father’s voice crack, she looks up at him curiously before recognizing that he’s upset. She crawls into his lap, fitting herself against his chest before playing with a doll there. Comforting him.

Harry wraps his free arm around her, pulling her as close as possible. His precious little baby. A little blessing as sweet as her mother.

“Oh honey, that happens. Mums, good mums especially are so critical when they don’t need to be. Baby’s are overwhelming, plus I know she’s been alone a lot with her. But you’re not a bad husband, dear.”

“It feels like it,” Harry sniffles, burying his face in his daughter’s lavender-scented curls from her bath earlier.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be calling,” Anne chuckles at her son, “Now how can we make this situation better?”

The phone call helped Harry not feel so hopeless in helping his wife. He’d come up with the plan to fly to England with Sasha so that Anne could see her but Y/N could have some alone time for a long weekend.

When Y/N enters the front door after her appointment, she’s met by a very excited little human who rushes to her mother and demands to be picked up. Of course, Y/N obliges, looking a bit more refreshed and awake as she tucks the baby against her hip.

Harry had ordered their favorite salads from a shop in the city and had it ready for her, “Oh, looks delicious. Thank you, H,” She smiles at him, leaning to give his stubbly cheek a kiss.

As they dig in, Y/N feeding bits of chicken and veggies to her daughter as they eat, Harry clears his throat, “I’m taking Sash to Holmes Chapel for the long weekend to see my mum.”

Y/N smiles, “That sounds great!”

Harry gives her a perplexed look, he’d thought she’d put up a fight. She despised being away from Sasha - couldn’t go a day without seeing her daughter.

“Really?” Her husband asks, putting down his fork.

“Mhm, I just have to pack a bag for Sash and I. When are we leaving?” Y/N replies eagerly, ready to go back home and get away from California for a bit.

Harry’s stomach clenches, “Erm, I meant just me and the baba? I thought you could stay here and relax for a weekend. Sleep, hang out, shop.”

Y/N’s face falls and is replaced with a devastated look, “You don’t think I’m being a good mum.”

Harry backpedals, realizing he shouldn’t have approached it in the lax way he did.

“No, no, of course not, baby. I think you’re such a good mum that you need a break. You never get breaks, m’the one who always does. S’not fair to you. I just need you to have some time to take care of yourself,” Harry explains, his heart shattering a bit at the tears brimming again.

“I don’t want a break, don’t leave me here,” Y/N begs, tucking a piece of tomato in her daughter’s expectant mouth before Sasha chews and smiles at her mother.

“Mummy, more please?” Sasha chirps, her mood a little bit brighter than it had been the last few days.

“Thank you for using your manners, here baby,” Her mother responds, popping another into her mouth after she sliced it in half.

“Did you book a commercial flight?” She asks her husband with an angry tone.

“No, private but we have to catch it at LAX,” Harry explains, the private airport they usually fly out of was filled to capacity at the moment.

“Either I’m coming or you’re going alone. You’re not taking Sasha without me,” Y/N replies firmly. She stands up and shuffles Sasha into his lap before leaving the room without another word.

Harry didn’t expect that. He should have thought it through more. If Y/N wanted to come, of course she could, but he’d never meant to offend her or act like he was taking Sasha away from her.

Harry had attempted to reason his way out of going to the studio with Jeff today. However, with the final cuts and adjustments were being made - he was quickly turned down and demanded in the studio.

When he’d trailed into the quiet house that night, relieved to find his baby in her crib instead of the pool, he went to his bedroom where the lights were still on.

The closet doors were open and Y/N was on the ground folding and sorting Sasha’s clothes before placing them in her suitcase. ***

Y/N’s suitcase already laying zipped and ready to go by the entrance of the closet. Her toiletry bag was placed neatly on top of it. Then his heart pings a bit when he sees that she’s already packed up his suitcase as well.

Harry pads over to his wife, plopping down behind her and tugging her back into him - long arms wrapping around her upper chest.

“Missed you, mumma.”

She hums, “I missed you too. Miss you always.”

“Y’the love of my life, y’know that?” Harry asks, kissing the back of her neck.

“I better be or you married the wrong person,” Y/N laughs softly, her tone still off but lighter than before.

“Married the right person, knocked up the right person.”

Y/N barks out a laugh, rolling her eyes, “How romantic.”

“Baby, y’know what I’m getting at. You’re the best mum and wife. I just wanted you to have a few days to yourself. To lower your stress level and let you do some self-care,” Harry murmurs, pushing the baby clothes out of her hands.

“But your mum can watch her for a bit while we’re there, right? I don’t want alone time, I need the exact opposite. I need company,” She tells him, twisting herself until she’s seated in his lap - straddling him.

“Mmm, can definitely have some alone time,” Harry agrees instantly, his mouth finding her throat - beginning to lay a path of wet, hot kisses down the column down to her collarbones.

“H, I have t’pack, we’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Y/N weakly argues but can’t help but bear down against her husband when she feels him harden in his loose pants quickly.

“S’just a quickie? Yeah, pet? Lemme fuck you,” Harry’s hands dragging the shirt she’s wearing up and over her head. Eyes lighting up boyishly when he realizes she didn’t have a bra on.

She can’t argue as he darts down to wrap his lips around her pert bud, sucking between long swipes of his tongue - just how she liked it. “Missed y’body so much,” Harry states against her heated skin.

“Just had me two days ago,” Y/N laughs but it cuts off into a moan when his hand slides into her pajama shorts and finds her clit over her thin underwear.

“Never enough,” Harry replies easily, “Remember the song I wrote f’you?”

Y/N snarkily asks, “Which one? Nearly all your songs are about me.”

And well...Harry can’t even argue how true her statement is. “The one titled ‘Never Enough’, pet? Remember?”

Before she can speak, he lowly croons out the chorus of the song he wrote for One Direction years ago, “Lips so good I forget my name. I swear I would give you everything. It’s never enough, never enough.”

Harry knows his sweet as syrup singing gets her immensely turned on and so he’s not surprised when she whimpers against his lips, “Fuck me, c’mon.”

He’s delighted at his wife’s pleas and quickly moves them, leaning forward with her until she’s on her back on the ground of their walk-in closet. He accidentally kicks over a pile of Sasha’s dresses but neither even notice.

There is no time wasted as Harry removed every single article from Y/N’s body quickly as well as his own. He’s leaning forward to suck a few more kisses to her chest as his fingers slip down to crook right up into her hot center.

“No teasing,” Y/N complains, wrapping hands around his biceps and bringing him on top of her more fully. She’s squeezing around his two fingers with need, it has him groaning when he brings them up and sucks them between his pouty lips.

Then she’s not waiting any longer, reaching down and grabbing a hold of his thick length. Harry lets out rumble from his chest at the contact before she’s guiding him into her without any further ado.

“Baby,” Harry chastises as soon as she starts goading him into thrusts with her feet against him bum, pushing him into her harder than he’d usually start, “Y’squeezin’ me s’tight, you missed me too?”

Y/N nods, whining every time he pushes against her spot and sends a zip of arousal through her body. His trimmed hair around his base brushing against her clit causing delicious friction for her.

“No, y’need to tell me,” Harry huffs, hand gripping her jaw harsher than he would if they were having slow, intimate sex. He knew she loved it by the way her eyes twinkle with stubbornness.

“No,” She replies coyly, heels of her feet pressing hard against him to the point it itches with a slight pain. Harry loved his wife so much it was looney.

“It’s fine, don’t need y’to come for me to get off, dove,” Harry replies simply, speeding up his thrusts with his hand holding her jaw for him to press bruising kisses against. His teeth are coming to pull her bottom lip in between.

Something switches in her demeanor though without warning, her voice softer and pliant, “Tell me you love me.”

It has Harry slowing down his hips until he’s rocking deeper into her, going down on his elbows so their noses are bumping. He releases the grip of her chin and instead moves to her bum to encourage her to meet him halfway.

“I love you, s’much it hurts most days,” Harry replies obediently, knowing what his wife needed at that moment. Reassurance. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, then you made us a perfect little baby.”

She’s looking up at him with loving, grateful eyes, landing a gentle peck to his upper lip and letting her head fall back onto the floor. This is what she needed right now from her husband and he was so good at providing.

“Breaks my heart when y’don’t think your a good mum or wife. ‘Cause you’re everythin’ I ever wanted. Why’d you think I write every song about you, lovie? S’cause you’re my soulmate.”

“H,” She whimpers, emotion thick in her throat as she meets his eyes, “I love you so much. You’re the best husband and dad ever.”

“Baby,” Harry murmurs into her cheek, picking up speed as she starts to clench around him in a warning of her oncoming orgasm. He slips his hand down to press a few light rubs to her clit before she’s arching her back and moaning with pleasure.

“You look s’good, coming ‘round my cock,” Harry tells her, helping her ride through it before hitching her hips up even further and thrusting harshly until his hips stutter and he’s coming as well.

“Harry,” Y/N sighs, her breathing coming back to normal as she roams a hand down his shoulders and back - scratching lightly.

“Hmm, dove? Y’want my cock again? Need a few,” He replies into her neck, ever the teenage boy.

She giggles, “No, we have to catch a flight at eight in the morning and it’s currently four-thirty.”

Harry grunts before pulling out and sitting up, “Y’better have packed my favorite pajama pants or I’m goin’ to be cross with you.”

Y/N now regrets the second round of fun as soon as their alarm goes off. Her body sore from the position he’d twisted her into against the shower wall after they packed the rest of Sasha necessities.

They were nearly at the airport with Sasha nodding back off in the carseat. She was excited to see her Nana and Aunt Gemma once again.

Their daughter was in the cutest, comfiest jumpsuit with comic hearts all over it *** and adorable little sock sneakers*** that slide right on and off her feet.

Harry had chucked on black sunglasses, a black jumper with green lettering, black joggers, and blue checkered van with white socks. He was attempting to fly under the radar as much as possible because he knew paparazzi just sit outside the entrances to spot celebrities. ***

It was annoying but he could deal with it when he was mobbed at the airport when he was by himself. But when it was with his wife and baby - he couldn’t stomach it. It’s part of the reason they fly private from a private port.

When they pull up to the curb, a staff member is waiting for them and helps Harry as well as the driver put his luggage on a cart to be brought to the awaiting jet.

Y/N unbuckles the baby who is awake now but bleary-eyed as she’s sitting on the curve of her mother’s hip.

And well - that’s when the madness begins. A pap spots them within seconds of exiting the car and is pulling up his camera for the first shots, the other photographers sitting around follow suit.

As soon as one of them screams, “Harry Styles - look this way!” The jam packed area looks towards them, seeming fans of his start murmuring before following behind the paparazzi pulling their phones out.

Y/N is used to the crowds by now - but just like Harry, not with Sasha around. They tried to avoid situations like this as much as possible. The lights and loud noises were scary to the little girl.

“Mummy,” Sasha whines, picking her head up from her mother’s shoulder to stare wide-eyed at the gathering in front of them.

Harry started to feel anxiety because this was becoming a massive crowd - scratch that, it wasn’t a crowd it was a fucking mob of people. They were all too close, blinding the family with their flashes despite security attempting to push them back.

Fans were shoving and thrusting their phones in Harry’s face, shoving random things for him to sign in front of him. Paparazzi were screaming questions and taking thousands of pictures in a minute’s time.

Harry grabs onto Y/N’s hand tightly, their diaper bag on Harry’s shoulder, and begins to attempt to guide them through the swarm. It was like trying to move through cement, the crowd not budging despite security’s screams.

Sasha is full blown crying at this point into her mother’s neck. Y/N’s hand cupping the back of her head to keep her head down and out of the photographs - holding her as tightly as possible.

Y/N can hear Harry began to curse - signaling that he’s becoming stressed out because he would usually never be rude to the public despite their actions. But he couldn’t give a fuck when it came to his family.

“Move out of the way.”

“D’you not see I have a fuckin’ baby?”

“Get those fuckin’ cameras out of their faces.”

“Back the fuck away from my wife and baby.”

Then Y/N is being shoved by a teenage girl who trips when she thrusts her arm towards Harry. She tumbles into Y/N with her full weight and Y/N’s loses her footing, falling forward - letting go of Harry’s hand.

When she falls, she manages to catch herself with the arm that’s not holding her daughter. But she feels pain in her knees and Sasha emits a sharp wail that alerts Y/N her daughter is hurt.

“Sash, fuck,” Y/N gasps, her motherly instincts automatically kicking in and she’s cradling her daughter as tightly to her chest as she can, shielding her from the swarm who had quieted only a bit.

It must take Harry a second to realize that something had happened, he turns around - eyes frantic as he absolutely roars, “Back the fuck up! I’ll fuckin’ break each and everyone of your cameras! Fucking leeches.”

With that, he’s helping to pull you up and grasping at the two, “Are you okay? Wha’s hurt?”

Y/N just shakes her head, having a panic attack as she shuffles the crying baby into his arms. “Please, just...Sasha. I think she hurt her arm when I fell.”

“Daddy, ouch,” Sasha shrieks loudly into his sweatshirt as he hikes her up onto his chest, her little legs wrapped around his midsection.

“Ssh, y’okay,” Harry tries to reassure her, matching his wife’s panic.

The crowd seems to give way now, the parents rushing their daughter into the airport.

Employees guide them to the medical office on-site where it’s now silent and calm but the family feels anything but.

Sasha’s sobs have turned into moans and whimpers at this point - but come back with a vengeance when Harry has to set her on the exam table and wrestle her out of her clothes until she’s just sat in her diaper.

The nurse was so amazing and kind. She checked Sasha thoroughly for any signs of trauma or broken bones but luckily, it was just a nasty scrape on her forearm that was hurting her. It wasn’t anything serious.

The parents had such concern for their daughter that Y/N didn’t even realize she had bled through her white joggers at the knees ***. The nurse frowns, “Honey, you’re still bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” She insisted even though her knees were aching.

“I’d like to examine your legs, dear,” The nurse tells her sternly, signaling that Harry can dress Sasha again.

He’s digging into the diaper bag for a spare out that they were always ready with. She was calming even more when Harry dressed her in a comfy pink set of clothes with little deer on them. ***

“Love, please let her,” Harry asks softly, pulling Sasha back onto his chest. Her thumb tucked into her mouth and her father hands her a plushie that Y/N had shoved in the bag last minute.

Y/N obliges with the pressure, wiggling the loose fabric down her legs until she’s just in her underwear and shirt - sits up on the table with her knees off to the side for her to examine.

Harry grimaces when he sees the multiple cuts and scrapes tainting her skin. A few slow trickles of blood still oozing from the gashes. The skin is already slowly covering purple and blue with bruises.

The nurse cleans her up, Y/N wincing when the alcohol brushes the cuts but Sasha is smiling again like nothing ever happened and cooing at her mum. It makes them both feel a lot better.

When they’re finally on the private jet, up high into the clouds away from the crowds and paparazzi - it feels like relief. ***

They had tucked their daughter onto the couch with her favorite fuzzy blanket and she’s asleep nearly as soon as her head hits the pillow.

They trail back into the other part of the cabin so that they don’t disturb her, cuddling up on the couch together.

“M’so sorry, I’m such a bad fa-”

Y/N cuts him off before he begins, “If I’m not allowed to be a bad mum - you’re not allowed to be a bad father. It wasn’t y’fault that happened - it’s those careless, crazed people who have nothing better to do.”

Y/N was always the voice of reason in Harry’s head when he started to spiral.

Spiral because his fame was so overwhelming and got his family into difficult situations sometimes. She brought him back to reality.

“Hey, we’re both okay. Just a few scrapes. It was just a lesson, Harry. We just need to be safer and plan better, alright?” Y/N assures him softly, kissing under his chin before resting back - ready to sleep.

“Y’the best. Best mum, best wife,” Harry tells her, encompassing her in his loving hold.

let me know your thoughts bub

come talk to me <3

1K notes · View notes

streetlight11 · 3 years

Text

Cat Café

Summary: Every year, your parents would set you on a date with any eligible guy that is of a wealthy family background so that your parents could expand their wealth and business. You were never looking forward to any of the dates until one fateful day, where the café worker attracted your attention.

Theme: cat café au, wealthy family au, strangers to lovers

Genre: fluffy

Warnings: none

WC: 4.4k

Pairing: Café Worker!San x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello again! Decided to write a cute kitty fic for San since he loves Byeol 💜 I hope he's resting well :'(

Being the daughter of someone who seems to be well-known as a millionaire in your country, there are pros and cons to it. The pros are that people would do anything and everything for your family, you lived in a mansion, you have a personal chauffeur but would prefer driving on your own, you can literally snap your fingers and anything can come to you except, you don’t like that.

The cons are that some people tend to envy your family, some even throw threats at you with ransom. And then there’s a handful of people who tries to befriend you just for your wealth but you’re not dumb. You’re smarter than people think.

However, one thing you never liked about this whole being born rich and having a family business fiasco, is that one of your parents would tend to be money minded and would do anything to gain power over their company. Which is exactly what was happening to you for the past few years ever since you turned 18.

Your father had been sending you on blind dates with a bunch of different guys who were sons of rich family business owners.

However, thankfully, your father wasn’t the kind to force you into marriage if you didn’t want to. But with that being said, every guy you rejected, results in a new guy for you and you hate this.

This year, your dad found you a guy who was around your age.

His parents owned a well-known wine company in the country. He was the youngest in his family. His name was Park Seonghwa and no doubt he was good looking and rather charming in personality, you just don’t feel the spark with him either.

And yet, here you are on your third date with him. You could tell that this person was a very kind-hearted man and that he was nothing but genuine with you.

But everything just feels out of place.

For this third date with him, he told you to choose where to go so you decided to bring him to a cat café that you knew of downtown. You walked with him side by side down the pavement after having dropped off by his chauffeur.

It was quite a chilly day, light snow cascading down on you as you walked.

Seonghwa was just listening to you talk about your school when he saw the way you were hugging yourself to shield your body from the cold breeze despite the three layers you had on.

He chuckled softly to no one as he soon wrapped an arm around your shoulder to pull you against his side, causing you to softly gasp.

Your words got stuck in your throat as you looked up at him with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, I guess you knew I was cold…” You apologized, earning a soft nod from him followed by a cute little giggle. You continued walking with him against your side, glancing up at him every now and then only to find him staring down at you with such warm eyes.

Both of you finally arrived at the cat café you wanted to bring him to, only to find it quite empty save for the two couples already in the booths with the kitties.

You entered the cosy premise of the café, immediately greeted by one of the staff there behind the counter.

“Hi! Welcome to Cuddles ‘N’ Coffee! Table for 2?” She asked with a cheery smile on her face.

“Yes please.” Seonghwa responded as she nodded before walking out the back and towards the glass door that shields the cats from leaving the front entrance.

“You can have that table booth right at the back. Just press the button on the wall and we’ll come over to take your orders.” She smiled as you thanked her for her great customer service before she returned your gesture with a sweet smile that turned her eyes into slits.

You and Seonghwa walked over to the table, careful not to step on any cats laying on the ground.

Some were already trailing behind you and the minute you placed your purse down and sat on the cushioned bench, a chunky brown cat leaped onto your lap and purred.

A soft giggle left your lips as you turned to Seonghwa who was also in the same situation as you but with a slimmer white cat in his lap.

“You make me want to adopt them really badly.” Seonghwa said under his breath, making you laugh.

After a few minutes of just bonding with the cats, you finally made your orders. The same girl came back about 5 minutes later with your orders, telling you to enjoy your drinks. You were just listening to Seonghwa talking about his boring lecturer when your eyes naturally glided over towards the front counter.

That’s where you saw a guy who looks to work there too considering the same polo tee and apron that Yeji, the girl who served you and Seonghwa earlier was wearing.

His smile was captivating as he joked around with Yeji, throwing balls of tissue at each other.

You watched as he seemed to have said something to her, causing her to slap his arm a little too harshly. That’s when he curled his body while holding onto the spot she hit.

But his frown was quickly replaced by a smile, watching her leave the counter with a middle finger in the air, directing it to him. Right when you were about to look away, his eyes happened to catch sight of yours. You’re supposed to be focusing on Seonghwa!

What are you doing? Look away!

Everything around you was a blur until you felt a warm touch to your knee, making you flinch and was soon turned back to Seonghwa who had a frown on his face.

“Hey? You okay? What’s wrong?” He asked out of pure concern.

“N-Nothing. Sorry, my mind went elsewhere for a moment. I’m so sorry, Seonghwa.” You apologized, already feeling bad for ignoring him like that whilst on a date. But all he did was chuckle and tell you it was fine.

After a few more minutes, you finally called it a night. You both reused your coats and checked to make sure you didn’t leave any belongings behind before making your way to the door to make your payment.

“Hello! I hope you enjoyed your time with the cats!” Yeji smiled to you two as she keyed in your orders.

“Yes we did. Thank you for having the cute fur balls.” You giggled, earning a laugh from her as well. Just when Seonghwa was handing his card to Yeji, you happened to turn right when her co-worker left the back room.

It was him.

He made eye contact with you briefly before turning away to enter the cat room. But you could’ve sworn you saw the small pout on his face. Unless your eyes were playing tricks on you.

Seonghwa’s car was now parked right outside your estate, with him insisting on walking you to your front gates while his driver stayed behind in the car. Once you were both there, he reached down to grab your hand gently making you turn around. You saw a frown decorating his face, instantly knowing something wasn’t right.

“Seonghwa? Is everything okay?” You asked as he stayed quiet for a while before he let out a soft sigh. And that’s when he explained everything.

“I know this might not be the best time to say this, but I have to. The past two dates were amazing. I never thought I’d find someone as down to earth and humble like you. And I did. Today was as amazing as those dates. The simple sushi dinner, the walk by Han River, the cat café as our last destination for this night’s date, I loved every second of it. And I really wish I could have more of this with you. I really do.”

He paused briefly before he continued, seeing that you were listening to him intently.

“But… my parents have decided… that they’re setting me up for marriage with someone else.” You weren’t going to lie, this news made your heart sink just a bit.

“Oh…” That was all you can muster and he knew you were upset.

“But it’s okay. We can still be friends if you’ll let me? The past three dates made me learn so much about you as a person and I couldn’t ask for more.” Seonghwa smiled, making you tear up feeling slightly overwhelmed.

“Hey, don’t cry…” Seonghwa whispered in between chuckles as he wiped your tears with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m just touched that you feel that way for me.”

“Well, then I’m glad I managed to make you cry.” He teased, earning a soft slap to his broad chest. Seonghwa laughed again but then got quiet for a split second before he spoke up cautiously, hoping you weren’t offended by his request.

“Can… Can I kiss you?” Seonghwa asked and you weren’t going to reject him this time.

So when you didn’t reply to him, he mistook it for rejection. But instead, you carefully slide your hands around his neck, pulling him close until you feel his lips against your own.

Seonghwa smiled into the kiss as his hands wrapped itself around your waist, instinctively pulling you closer to his body. Your fingers tangled into his soft hair gently, feeling him squeeze your sides a little before he chuckled against your mouth.

“You really are something else, you know that? Whoever dates you, is gonna be the luckiest guy on earth.” Seonghwa complimented you, making you blush.

“And to the girl who’s about to be your future wife, she better be grateful to have such a handsome, kind hearted young man as her husband.” You returned as he kissed you again before pulling away.

“Goodnight Y/N. I’ll see you around. Promise we’ll stay friends okay?” Seonghwa said, making you hug him.

“I promise.” You whispered against his chest, pulling away from him. You gave him a final wave as you watched his car descend down the road. Seonghwa was an angel and whoever he ends up with, will be the luckiest girl on earth.

It has been 2 weeks since your last date with Seonghwa and you’ve been coming to the cat café. Probably 3 times in each week. Sometimes to do your assignment, sometimes to just chill and hangout with the kitties. But in all honesty, you were lowkey expecting to see the guy working there the other day and you did.

Almost all your visits there.

Little did you know, he too was kind of looking forward to seeing you there.

It was a Saturday evening and you were out and about in town. Your parents didn’t have any guys for your blind date recently so you took this chance to leave the house and just spend time alone.

You managed to find your way back to the café, parking your car at an empty parking lot down the street.

You had just entered the café and it was slightly more occupied than the last time you came. But since you were alone, it wasn’t actually a problem. You were standing by the door, looking around at the people queueing at the counter to make their payments when a voice snapped you out of your trance.

“Hi, welcome to Cuddles ‘N’ Coffee. For how many people?”

You turned to look at who greeted you, only to lock eyes with the same ones you had been hoping to see every time you came there.

“Just 1.” You said with a small smile, only to catch the inner corner of his lips twitch upwards.

“Right this way.” He said as he led you towards the room where the cats were in. You followed behind him closely, only for him to lead you to one of the booths near the back.

“Call me if you need anything.” He said as you noticed the smile that appeared on his face before he left. And you caught a glimpse of his nametag right before he turned.

Choi San.

A few minutes later, you were too busy petting the fluffy white cat in your lap, you didn’t even realize more people had left the café and there were only 3 tables left occupied. The cat in your lap was purring as it nuzzled its face into your stomach, not knowing you were currently a topic of conversation that was happening on the other side of the room.

San had just finished charging one of the customers only to let out a long sigh.

“Tired already?” Yeji asked with a teasing smile as she approached him. San grumbled, leaning against the counter with his back facing where the customers would be.

“Today’s been a full house since afternoon and I’m dead, gone.” He said, leaning his head back to close his eyes.

San couldn’t see what Yeji was doing until he heard her voice from beside him.

“Go and talk to her.”

“Huh?” San snapped his head towards her with a confused look on his face, earning a giggle from her.

“You yourself told me you were upset that she wasn’t alone the other day, and now she is. So go talk to her!” Yeji encouraged him.

“What if her boyfriend just can’t make it?”

“San, she’s been coming here alone for the past two weeks in case you haven’t noticed. Maybe she’s here to see you? Come on, just keep her company. Nothing would go wrong with that.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I’m a girl and I’d do the same if I wanted to be discreet about seeing my crush at his workplace?”

To that, San sighed as he turned to look over at you across the room, only to see you nuzzling your face against the cat’s head that was in your lap. This made his heart flutter as he saw the little smile on your face upon feeling the cat licking your nose.

He didn’t realize he had a silly smile on his face until Yeji pushed him gently to get his attention, “Just go, silly! That dumb smile on your face is telling a lot!” She laughed as he glared at her but without any venom in them.

He finally mustered up the courage thanks to Yeji as he was now making his way towards you where there’s only a couple who was left in the room with you.

Once he was a few feet away, his voice caught your attention, making you look up.

Immediately, your heartbeat started picking up speed.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” San asked politely, earning a soft shake of your head and a smile.

“No thanks, I’m good actually…” You said.

San nodded as he wasn’t sure if he should stay or leave. But you seem to have read his mind by asking him the question he never expected would have come from you.

“Do you… wanna sit down?” You asked as he glanced down at the empty spot beside you before looking back into your eyes.

“Uh.. y-yeah… are- are you okay with that?”

“Of course.” You smiled as you scooted over a little for him.

San carefully sat down beside you and almost instantly, a fluffy brown cat leaped into his lap. You giggled when the cat stood up with its back legs on his thighs while its front paws rested on his chest. Licking San’s chin cutely as the other cats started to surround him by the legs, begging for his pets.

“They seem to love you.” You commented with a genuine smile, making him chuckle.

“I own a cat myself so I guess I’m just used to being loved by them.” San said before turning to look at you, only to be flustered by the way you were staring at him.

“Wow… That’s sweet.”

“Do you have any pets?” He asked.

“No… Although I do wish to have one. I think it would be nice.” You said softly, only to hear him shift in his seat. Just then, his knee accidentally brushed against yours but you didn’t mind it.

A few seconds of peaceful silence went by, only for him to speak up, “Are you heading home soon?”

“I think I should? You guys are closing up soon right?”

“Yeah… Do you have a ride home?” He asked almost out of instinct, feeling sorry that he just blatantly asked you that when you barely knew each other.

“S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to be weird…”

“No. No. It’s fine. But yes, I do.” You smiled at him.

San awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck out of nervousness, only for you to speak up.

“Well, I think I should make a move soon. Thank you for sitting here with me.” You said as he smiled again.

“Sure.”

The two of you began making your way back to the front counter as Yeji keyed in your order. After you’ve paid, she hands you back your card and receipt, only for you to smile at both Yeji and San.

“Thank you. Goodnight.” You said as they nodded whilst she replied the same to you.

All San could do was smile, not able to move or say anything to you. The minute you left, Yeji turned to him and asked why he never replied to you. That’s when he finally told his co-worker that he was head over heels for you.

A few weeks passed and you had been going to that café a little more frequently now solely to see San. It was a Sunday afternoon, a bright, cold day. You were just making your way to San’s workplace when you got a call from him. You answered his call, only to hear his eager voice from the other side of the line.

“Hey! Where are you?” He asked.

“On my way to the café actually.”

“Nice. I’m a little caught up in the back so just come inside and find a seat near the back. Yeji’s working upfront.”

“Okay San, see you.”

“See you, cutie.” You could’ve sworn you heard his smirk creeping up on his face only for you to giggle.

You and San haven’t properly confessed anything yet, but you could definitely tell that both of you liked each other. Although San already knows about your family background, he was pretty chill about it. You could tell that he was a genuine person and wasn’t one who would just date you for money.

You even told Seonghwa about him and he feels that San is someone you could trust. So when you made it to the café and you saw Yeji talking to a customer alone by the cashier, you figured San was in fact in the back room.

So after the customer left, Yeji’s eyes travelled to you and immediately her smile beamed, causing her eyes to disappear.

“Y/N! Hey!”

“Hey Yeji.” You giggled.

“San’s a little busy with paperwork in the back but he told me to save a seat for you at your usual spot!”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that though.”

“It’s okay, his words anyway.” Yeji giggled before bringing you to the table.

A few minutes passed, you were just kissing one of the cat’s cute pink nose when a familiar voice spoke up from above you, making you look up to see San standing there with his apron discarded.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

San smiled as he sat down beside you only to reach over and gave the cat a few strokes. You were about to turn and talk to him but instead, you got flustered with how close his face was with yours. The minute San looked up at you, you could literally feel his warm minty breath hitting your lips.

His eyes glanced down to your lips and you could see the corner of his lips curve up slightly. This in itself, made your heart pound against your chest as you turned away to hide your blush on your face.

“Uhh, I- I umm, are you hungry?” You asked, earning a soft chuckle from him.

He went to order for you two, also making the drinks for you before coming back. You spent the next hour with him during his lunch break, not forgetting to share some skin ship with him. Something you’ve grown used to.

San was ending his shift in two hours and you definitely didn’t mind staying there for another few hours for him since he himself said you could wait for him there.

And so you did.

After he ended his work, both of you left his workplace not without saying bye to Yeji.

You hang out with him for a bit before he invites you over to his apartment. You’ve been there more than five times and he has never done anything inappropriate to you. So you trusted him with all your life.

A few hours passed and you were now seated on his couch, watching the Disney movie ‘Frozen’ with him. “Omg, look at this jerk! He’s totally using her!” You ranted with an unconscious pout, earning a little chuckle from him.

“Well, at least I know I wouldn’t do that to someone.” San shrugged, making you turn to him. He had a silly smirk on his face but you weren’t going to comment on it. You were just blushing at his indirect flirty comment towards you despite not mentioning who he was talking about.

San was definitely talking about you and he knows you know it too. And seeing the blush on your face could only make him burst into a laughter that left you pouting.

“Shut up! Don’t make fun of me!” You whined as San wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his side.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry but you’re just too cute!” San said as you froze.

Sure he has called your choice of outfits pretty before but this time, it felt so raw and you were slightly taken aback by it. San definitely noticed this as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. At first he was frowning but then it got replaced with a smile, melting you instantly.

The room fell quiet as you noticed the way his eyes fell to your lips and lingered there for a bit, making you nervous.

Just then, your breath hitched in your throat when he reached up slowly to cup your face and caress your cheek with his thumb. Nobody dared to say much but he had to make sure you were alright with where this is going so he spoke up.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” He whispered, his voice soft and gentle.

You gave him a nod to answer him as you watched him lean closer until his sharp nose lightly brushed against the side of your nose, lips barely an inch apart from each other.

You closed your eyes, too nervous to keep looking. San smiled at this as he gave your lips one last glance before he too closed his eyes and pressed his lips gently on yours. San felt you move your lips against his. He smiled into your lips as he caressed your cheek while he kissed you.

He was being so gentle with you, it definitely melted your heart.

He pulled away for a breath, letting his fingers lightly ghost over your features before you reopened your eyes to look at him.

“Was that okay?” He asked, his voice quiet.

“Yeah…” You whispered as you wrapped your fingers around the wrist of the hand that was holding your face.

“Good… Because I wasn’t sure if I trusted myself with words to confess to you.” San chuckled, earning a soft giggle from you before you replied to him.

“It’s okay… I like this better.”

With that being said, San smiled in victory as he kissed you again.

You spent the day with him, cuddling on his couch after a long but innocent make out session. Never did you think you would fall for a boy who worked at a cat café but you did. And you were more than happy you did.

~~~

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semischarmed · 3 years

Text

Clarity

My hot roommate Zach is the perfect man. I think I won the cosmic lottery when we got paired freshman year. “Roommates for life!” he shouted, as he wrapped a tone arm around me in a side-hug. I chuckled, of course. Who knew the cutest guy in our dorm was such a dork. I remember that moment vividly, committed every last detail to memory. In what he likely only barely remembers, I recall to the last detail. I play it back often -even moreso, nowadays: The crisp autumn breeze. The filtered sunlight through amber trees, bathing us both in golden afternoon. The warmth of his touch, and the unintended taunt from his arm pulling me towards him and his jacket ever so slightly wrapping over my back. The slight, dense smell of coffee wafting from him and his minty breath cutting through. Thats how I remember him. Warm. Sincere. Safe. Zach would probably say that was the moment we became best friends. I, on the other-hand, would say that was the exact moment when I fell for him.

We did everything together from then on: Ate together, joined the same clubs, signed up to the same classes- that first year we were inseparable. Best friends to a tee. I’m not even sure what he saw in me- the guy was a hell of a lot more sociable than I was. He could literally find anyone else on campus, yet I had the privilege of being his roommate and friend. I commit that wonderful first year to my life. It is my happiest year to date. I commit that version of Zach to myself as well.

Trouble started early in our second year. He spent all summer back home, hanging out with his high school friends and his brothers. When we finally met back in our new room, he seemed distant. Still, I made the effort, getting closer and closer to him every day. He’d been sending signals too, I think. A stray touch, just a half second too long. A lingering stare in my direction. A gentle smile when I ask him a bout his day. I had to know for myself with certainty.

So, one terrifying October night, I asked him straight up.The fucker laughed. Cruel, hideous, insensitive laughter. I’d never felt more alone in my life than when he laughed at my confession. That broke something in me. I quickly ran to my bed, crying myself to sleep. Without skipping a beat, Zach left the room to grab a bite to eat, seemingly unchanged by my outright confession. I had never been so humiliated in my life, yet only he would ever know. Still I felt him hold that over me in the weeks to follow like a dark cloud. Of course he’d still offer hangouts. He’d ask for help with some dumb assignment or try to get me to open up by faking some issues about himself. He was mocking me. I felt his sneer, ever-present from behind. Thats when I began researching alternative methods to exact what I needed from him.

Why a private university had a book like this is beyond me. It was a spellbook. A dangerous one, at that. All manner of incantation and processes regarding the human soul. I poured myself the next few weeks on its pages religiously. Translation is a massive pain in the ass but it gets done.

“Love cannot be created by spell,” it stated. Leave it to a fucking book to let me down too. I wiped away stray tears until I caught sight of the last batch of spells. I sighed at its contents. Fine. I couldn’t make him love me through magic, but I could have him the next best way. His body. The final section of this book of spells is, of course, the curses and enchantments required to possess another being.

———

The preparations have been made. It’s another late, awkward night in our room, where he just passes by, gives me a nod and a grimace and then heads to bed. This night would be different. I chant the words. The price is steep. Half of my body’s lifespan for the ability to take someone over in their sleep. That’s the one I settled on. Of course, there were more permanent spells outlined, but this seemed to be a happy medium.

The magic is dark in nature, and I feel the cloud over me deepen. I feel myself detach. It’s weightless, but grounded. Makes sense, given the purpose of this spell. I watch my target and lick my astral lips. There he was, happily dreaming without a care in the world. I study every curve, like sculpture. He is muscled, but tone. Zach likes to sleep with his shirt off, so I get to see what powerful chest up close. I watch as powerful lungs, drawn in air before gently dispersing it. Perfection. I watch that beautiful face lie still in a satisfied smile. Angelic. This body is power, incarnate. My power, soon.

I follow closes until I am but inches from his face. I stir around him, slightly. I want him to know it’s me. Bleary eyes open and he gives a weak smile when he sees me. “Dude-” the smile quickly fades to shock. “Wait what the fuck...” in sinful glee I push into my man. He involuntarily absorbs my particles, my spirit. He tries to push me away, to get me off him. Hands are useless to stop me. I phase through them with no resistance. His breath quickens as he begins to panic. This only further brings me into him, as he is forced to breath in the only air around him-me.

Then, he starts choking, trying to force the parts of me in him out. I am unfazed. Instead, in I keep filling into him until all of me is inside. This is the way we were meant to be. He pulses and convulses and chokes while I align myself into him. I revel in Zach. In being Zach. Despite all the shit he pulled this year, he still is perfection. My perfection, now.

I command his lips mine. “Invoke me. Become me. Manipulate this body. Explore us. Stay, in me. I want you here, forever.” They’re not words he usually uses. I rile in a frenzy when these phrases leave his lips at my behest. When his voice becomes my own and I make us moan. When his body complies with my every whim. When Zach’s flesh is mine. It is euphoric. Orgasmic even. I intend to follow through, to reward it. To pleasure it. God it feels good being in him. Being him. He may not love me, but love me he will, even if indirectly. Every waking moment I spend inside this man will be a moment of him loving himself, loving me. Now, And then I feel it. I clutch my head in pain. Zach.

Veins strain in his forehead as he puts every last effort to exorcise me out. Resistance almighty in this body. In tears I feel myself stripped from momentary heaven. He chokes as a dense fog that is me escapes his mouth. He is successful.

When I am kicked out of his body abruptly, I flare in anger. How could he do this? How could he? I look back at my slumbering form. No matter. My resolve is steel. Somehow, somewhere deep inside me, I knew somewhere it had to come to this. I chant the final curse mentioned in the spellbook. The price is the steepest of them all.

I watch as my physical form dissipates. I writhe as I am renewed with newfound energy. Potency. Virility. I’ve put in everything. Everything I ever was into becoming him. Zach would be mine, no matter what.

Before he can readjust, before he can even think about what had just occurred, I flood back inside my man. Inside my body. My one true body, now, given what I had to sacrifice. I make him smile while he takes me in. Smile in preparation of a new, permanent driver. I thrust my astral form inside its new home. It’s warm. Roomy. muscular. We make this body grin, shout, cry, writhing all the way in its sheets in our battle for control. I’m not even sure he knows what he’s doing when he fights me- but he always was a natural in everything he picked up. I feel our shared muscle contract and relax as it is forced to accept its two masters- soon to be one. Soon to be me. Zach’s soul was strong but no one was a match for the full force of an entire human body-turned-spirit. I feel his soul start to lose footing. Jackpot. Immediately fill take its place. My place.

I was far deeper in Zach now than I was before. His essence struggles, trying to escape me but I keep us steady, hold us tight. Our minds begin to connect this time around and we sync. The book said this was a necessary step. I blink away our tears into a satisfied smile. Our face is flush from the fight, flush from my greatest victory. “You’re mine forever,” I think to myself, My words. The verbalization of my invasive thoughts in his head- they’re spoken in his tongue. In his jock-like inflection. I even now think in his voice. Of course, it’s relatively minor in the grand scheme of things. Yet it is undeniable proof. The finality of it all. Proof that my body no longer existed in this world. Proof that for me, forever, Zach would be my default. Just one last step to it all. One last push- I’ve already given this much, there was no going back. I would displace Zach as the true owner of this body. It’s as the final line in the book states: “Encapsulate their soul, devour it, digest it, make it yours. Then, true control at long last.”

Tears stream down our shared cheeks as we both realize the true gravity, the true consequences of my actions. We are synced now, but I haven’t yet completed the process. So, our emotions are a mix. So, it’s bittersweet. He’s mine. We’re one. I’m finally with Zach in a way most intimate. Despite it all, he isn’t fighting back. Why?

I rage inside him, wanting him to be mad, wanting him to hate me, to give me justification my ultimate transgression. He offers none. Instead, I am hit with borrowed clarity. More of his memory floods into me and I begin to cry.

I watch my every worst moment through his lens, relive the demons of my past and yet, from his perspective they never looked quite as dark or traumatic as I had made them out to be. Even my confession itself, my initial catalyst, had merely been a blip in Zach’s mind. If anything, he had been more concerned that his own nervous laughing was the cause of my spiraling. I quickly realize how much wasted time I spent, building up Zach into this god in my head. My god. In the end, he was human after all.

I feel Zach pull instances of himself from my memories in turn. It turns out he had many, many insecurities as well. Many moments where he needed validation or support. Many moments, even in recent memory, where I had never picked up on on his fear and self doubt. An offhand comment here. Some self-deprecation there. Of course, stupid me always there to respond by telling him to quit joking around. I felt the months of torment he felt in my coldness after my confession. He wasn’t making fun of me or being an ass, he wasn’t even patronizing (well, he wasn‘t trying to at least)- he thought he was losing a friend. The guy was just a bit oblivious. God I was so dumb. Of course, he blames himself for my eventual actions. Poor guy. Zach didn’t deserve any of this- he never did. “Thank you” he cries in new clarity.

In mental tears I begin to undo my connection to him. It’s not something he had the capacity to do himself- I made that a reality when I used my physical form as tribute. I know the price which must be paid, for my greatest sin, born from misunderstanding. There wouldn’t be much left for me- the price for the spell was my physical body after all. It didn’t matter. I made that choice for myself when I recited the spell. But Zach... he had no choice at all. He still had a chance at a life. A life well-lived with knowledge and confidence gained from my memory. It was the least I could give him.

I begin to drift away as I balance the cosmic scales. I detach the last of myself from Zach, ready to give him back his body, ready to return him to his life. It’s merely a reverse of the process from before, yet it all feels lighter somehow. I take it as a sign of karmic justice. Of course, I am scared. Who knows what awaits me? Maybe I can find another body to inhabit. Maybe one in a coma. Maybe i’ll be reincarnated. Maybe nothing. Maybe I’ll just vanish on the spot...

Zach doesn’t give me the chance to find out. I feel his astral hand holding on to mine. His face is sympathetic. Kind. Warm. Like it used to be. Like it always was. His body leans up to pull me into a warm embrace. I start crying in spirit. “You, you don’t have to do this-”

“I know” he says. He pulls me tighter. “Roommates for life, remember?” Now he’s crying. “There’s no way to go back- we both know that, but you still got a life to live-we both do.” He smiles as he guides me to himself. I reattach to him. We weave our souls as one. “C’mon man, I told you I grew up sharing a room.” I am a complete mess of emotions at this point. Unworthiness, Love, Relief. I feel his mess too. Neither of us knew where to go from here, but we both knew we’d face it together.

The experience was sobering, to say the least. We cried together that night. We cried at newfound realization. We cried at irreversibility of what I had done. Hell, we even cried at the extra rent that had to now be paid. I had no way of undoing what I did, and Zach wouldn’t let me go. In the end, we decide to just give it a go, a resolve to live as one person. “Zach 2.0,” as he jokingly put it. Dork.

———

“A happy accident,” is what Zach called the events of that night. He always was the optimist. Although, these days, I’m a bit of an optimist now too. I am Zach now too, after all. All things considered, we’ve done quite well together. Zach 2.0 was everything. We were smart, intuitive, confident, compassionate. We’ve made this body the healthiest it’s ever been. Hell, together we even graduated with honors, something neither of us could ever hope to do alone. Both our parents were real proud of that one- he told mine at my funeral that we had been together and we’ve been in close contact ever since. By no means were we the perfect man though. There was no perfect man. We’ve had our share of fights, struggles, times where one of us would take full control of this body we share, shut the other out.

Once in a blue moon, we both dream of what our lives could have ended up as, had I not done what I did or had he let me disappear that night. In retrospect, I really do think my life had a lot of things going for it. Hindsight is always 20/20, as he likes to say. I saw many an opening, so many areas for improvement that my younger self was blinded by in lust and perceived betrayal. There was so much life I could have lived, had I just not opened that stupid book. I don’t dwell on it too much though. We’re both quite happy sharing this body. I’m living in one body with my crush, whats not to like?

The first few months were quite jarring. Our friends and family would see us happy and outgoing at one moment and then flip to quiet and reserved on a flip of the switch. Gratefully, they been patient with us, assuming it was the byproduct of a grieving boyfriend. The more years I grow with him, the more alike we have become. Sharing one body and living one life tends to do that. I’ve probably rubbed off on him a little too. He’s just a bit more analytical now, a bit more perceptive, and I’ve learned to let loose every once in a while. Altogether, we make a great team. We’ve even managed a slew of relationships along the way. Hell, he’s even gone out with some guys-no doubt a byproduct of my soul being a part of him. Of course, in the ultimate cruel twist of fate, they never last- he tells me “none ever match me”. Well of course they can’t. I’ve lived every moment with him, felt his every thought, lifted him when he was up, consoled him when he was down. Ironically, in a roundabout way, the spell did end up causing love, causing for him to fall for me- at the cost of us never being able to be a couple in the physical sense. Guess you really can’t have it all.

In the few years we spent together my love for him has only deepened. I know he feels the same way. We are one person, after all. All things considered, it’s not a bad setup. If love on the physical plane happens, it happens, and if it doesn’t- then we still always have each other. Regardless, I’m sure we’ll find someone out there for the both of us, someday-there’s that optimism again. Of course, we don’t pine for it. Our main focus has always been each other. Growing together. We’ve got a whole life yet to live. And he’ll have me with him every step of the way. And we can’t wait to face it all, together.

-End-

Eh, it’s a bit underdeveloped but I’m not a novelist and I didn’t want to spread this out over parts. Going for something a little different with number 14- hope y’all like it!

#male possession

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 290: It’s Touya Time

Previously on BnHA: Iida and Hadou showed up like a couple of Pennsylvanias and Georgias to bail Shouto out at the last minute. Ochako and Toga had an exceptionally strange fight which consisted of Toga being all “guess what Ochako, I used your quirk to murder someone, how do you feel about that”, and Ochako being all “I do not like that”, to which Toga was all “:(”. There was some doll-stealing and some bookcase-yeeting, and then Toga left in tears because Ochako was all adamant that murder has consequences. Anyway so I have absolutely no idea what Toga is thinking now, but I guess we’ll have some time to stew on it, because we ended the chapter by cutting back to the Iida+Hadou+Shouto VS Afomura battle, which was interrupted by Gigantomachia and the LoV showing up like a bunch of Floridas to ruin everyone’s nice day.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi hands the mic over to Dabi and is all “take it away, kid.” Over in Room 315 of Musutafu General, Rei is all “may I please watch some TV” and the hospital staff is all “sure”, and so she tunes in just in time to catch Todoroki Touya’s Peabody Award-winning documentary “Number One Hero, Number One Fraud: The Todoroki Enji Story”, which is being broadcast nationwide courtesy of Skeptic and his magic laptop. Meanwhile in Jakku, Dabi is all “I’M TOUYA, BITCHES”, and Shouto and Enji are all, “(゜◇゜ )”, and Dabi is all, “anyway so just to sum it all up, because of how much of a jerk Endeavor was, I am now Evil.” Everyone continues to be all “(ﾟoﾟ)” except for Dabi, who is all “└(˘▾˘┌ )≡ ( ┐˘▾˘)┘≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛≡┏( ˘▾˘)┓≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛” for pretty much the rest of the chapter. Idk. Just let the man have his fun, guys. He’s waited a long time for this.

y’all I have a confession to make. I am technically not spoiled for this chapter thanks to my robustly paranoid system of spoiler-tag-filtering, which is extensive enough that it pretty much will catch whenever someone so much as breathes something even remotely new-chapter-related. that being said, I like to think that I am capable of making basic logical inferences! and so the fact that for the past 36 hours, my dashboard has pretty much nonstop consisted almost entirely of this...

...has led me to conclude that MAYBE, POSSIBLY, PROBABLY, BUT ALSO DEFINITELY, a certain someone is finally going to reveal his ~secret identity~ woop woop. lmao

anyway so everyone, please remember to act surprised though, as we would not want Dabi’s feelings to be hurt at all. he has been planning this moment for the last decade or so and I wouldn’t want him to feel like all of that effort was for naught. so just play along, okay. OH MY, IF IT ISN’T THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS’ MYSTERIOUS DABI. WHATEVER COULD HIS ARRIVAL POSSIBLY BE HERALDING, I JUST DON’T KNOW

“Dabi’s Dance” lmao. I’m sticking with Touya Time myself. ngl I had this recap title planned out for at least the past year or so. just waiting for that day to finally come

anyway so some people in some building somewhere are all “TURN OFF THE TV IN ROOM 315” and idk. I’m guessing the LoV is hacking the airwaves to livestream the reveal, as predicted

-- oh shit. UHHHHHHHH

did she always have this TV or did she get it just recently?? jfc of all the times for the hospital staff to finally loosen up

um... so that’s... (・＿・；)

well but I mean, she was gonna find out one way or the other at some point though. like you can’t really just keep her locked up and isolated from all news of the outside world forever and ever and ever. granted, this isn’t exactly the ideal way for her to learn this particular bit of information, but it’s not really ideal for anybody else either! EXCEPT DABI, THAT IS. have yourself a day you funky little terrorist

oh shit what is this?? it’s not live???

over in Jakku, a red-faced, sputtering Dabi makes a frantic grab for Skeptic’s laptop. “WAIT, NO, JESUS, NOT THAT TAPE!”

lol. but seriously Dabi are you even wearing a shirt. like I’m not one to slutshame anyone bro, but it’s just, exactly what type of mood were you looking to set here??

anyway so we really are cutting back to Jakku now, and Gigantomachia is all, “MASTERS”! which, I wonder if he really did use the plural? that’s right Machia, both of them in one place now! that sure is convenient for you huh

lol what is this with all this AFO monologuing. you’re really gonna make me read through this when I’m sitting here all sleep-deprived from election week. JUST GET TO THE TOUYAS. WE WERE PROMISED TOUYAS!!

sigh

“tee hee it’s fucking hilarious how goddamn powerful I am now lol”

alas, in spite of myself I do have two serious takeaways from this. one is that AFO is still controlling most of Tomura’s body behind the scenes, which both does and doesn’t bode well for Tomura (like, at least he’s not dying, but the long-term implications of this for his free will and such certainly are not Good). and two is that this confirms that Ujiko did give Tomura at least one powerful mutant quirk, which explains why he was still so deadly and indestructible even when Aizawa was using Erasure on him (since Erasure doesn’t work on mutant quirks, just emitter and transformation ones)

MEANWHILE ON TODAY’S EPISODE OF “TODOROKI SHOUTO’S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD LIFE”

I like how he doesn’t actually say that he can’t take on Gigantomachia. just that he can’t take on him and Afomura at the same time. that’s confidence, baby. that right there is why you always draft Todoroki Shouto in the first round for your fantasy team

HADOU!!!!

OOOH, TOMURA’S ALL “MAN, THIS GIRL’S WAVE POWERS AND THIS KID’S ICE POWERS ARE A SUPER-STRONG COMBO DAGNABBIT.” YESSS I LIKE THAT, TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW COOL AND POWERFUL THEY ARE

HOT DAMN LOOK AT THAT

um but not to take away from this exceptionally cool moment or anything, but why is Endeavor dying and shouting “RUN” down there in the corner um

excuse me. not to take away from How Bad This All Is, but!!

just a little, smol, IidaBaku for everyone. Iida, who apparently doesn’t know a damn thing about first aid and is all, “hmm that’s a pretty bad-looking puncture wound he has in his left shoulder there, I think I’ll just let his arm dangle freely like that and I won’t bother taking off his heavy gauntlets either. I mean. he’ll be fine, probably.” smh. at least Shouto probably cauterized the wounds

EXCUSE ME WHAT

TIME FOR MORE OF THAT GOOD OLD FASHIONED SHOUNEN RIDICULOUSNESS I GUESS LMAO. KACCHAN YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO. THERE IS A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, AND YOU LOST LIKE FOUR GALLONS OF BLOOD, BUT SURE. “PUT ME DOWN” HE SAYS. FIRST OF ALL, PUTTING ASIDE THE FACT THAT YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT BE CONSCIOUS, THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO, LIE DOWN AT THEM?? LISTEN, YOU SWEET IDIOT. TAKE HEED, BELOVED DUMBASS!!

ah well. I guess he gets to watch the Touya Show now too then lol

LMAOOOO now Machia’s lifting Tomura carefully in his palm like a broken action figure and Spinner is all “THE FUCK, YOU LOOK LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER”

“oh hey there Spinner. well let’s see, I woke up from my three-month coma and destroyed a city, had my body incinerated, and am currently being possessed by a diabolically evil potato. but please, tell me more about everything you've been through”

AW YISS AND THE FOCUS NOW SHIFTS TO THE TODOROKIS. EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING EXACTLY AS WE HAVE FORESEEN

Endeavor my dude. it’s as if you want to die here. also holy shit, that bit about his lungs definitely does not bode well for him either

MOTHERFUCKER

GO AHEAD AND SIGN YOUR OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, WHY DON’T YOU!! FLAGS UPON FLAGS. JESUS CHRIST

meanwhile Dabi’s just waving at ‘em

lmaoooo please oh please Caleb please keep this ‘EYYYYYYY’, it’s fucking perfect kdlshk;hg

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: so as you will see very shortly, I completely missed this detail in my first read-through because I was so anxious to get to the reveal page, but THIS MOTHERFUCKER LITERALLY DOUSED HIMSELF WITH INSTANT HAIR DYE REMOVER THAT HE’S JUST BEEN CARRYING AROUND IN A LITTLE HIP POUCH APPRENTLY SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME. MOTHERFUCKER. I HAVE NO WORDS.)

IS THIS THE TIME. IS THIS THE MOMENT?! HERE IT COMES SLKFHS BRACE YERSELVES LADS

EYYYYYYYYYYYY

OKAY EVERYONE JUST LIKE WE PRACTICED!! SURPRISED FACES ON THREE! ONE... TWO... (•̪ o •̪) !! okay how was that

LMAO ENDEAVOR

at least Shouto looks properly stunned. Enji just looks like endeavor.exe just straight up stopped working

meanwhile Deku’s out here trying to do the math on this latest surprise family reveal! first Tomura is related to Nana, and now this. what’s next. who are you related to, Spinner. he rips off his boots to reveal engine legs and declares himself Iida’s long-lost uncle

oh shit Touya

it’s as if a million fanworks suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly jossed. who knew that all this time he was secretly sporting a crop top scar

also, THIRTY?! holy shit son you been busy

la la la two-page spread of Touya casually driving the dagger into Endeavor’s hero career and rocking the foundations of hero society as we know it la la la

la la la!!!

OH IS THAT THE END OF THE STORY THEN

almost got confused for a sec. there’s two monologues happening at once here. Endeavor doesn’t even know that his dirty laundry is being aired out nation-wide as we speak ffffff

btw while I appreciate the close-ups of Enji and Shouto here for sure, ngl I would also really love to see everyone else’s reactions right now. SHOW ME BAKUGOU AND THE LOV YOU COWARDS

is his hair actually turning white all of a sudden?? your hair dye just reacts on command??

(ETA: in all seriousness though, the hell kind of hair dye was he using? all he has to do is pour a bottle of that stuff and not even lather it in and it’s just gone just like that?? what the fuck would have have done if it ever rained lmao.

and this motherfucker just goes and leaves the dye remover in afterwards, too. I have never dyed my hair in my life and even I can tell you that’s probably not a good idea, Dabi.)

is this it. is this the legendary Dabi Dance in action. lmfao

oh hey what the fuck

so you figured you’d just murder your innocent younger brother to get revenge on dad, huh. well that’s nice

is that really all there is to the origin story though?? feels like we’re still missing a huge chunk of it. what was it that finally sent him over the edge? or was the trauma of being created as Endeavor’s perfect little hero tool and then being subsequently rejected by him enough on its own? because I’m still kind of confused on the part where he goes from “abused and discarded by his father” to “killed thirty people and was plotting the murder of his own brother” to tell you the truth

(ETA: lmao the initial fandom reaction to this did not disappoint. listen guys. people can be traumatized and shaped by awful circumstances that are completely out of their control, and grow up to be people they wouldn’t have grown up to be if things had been better, and all of that absolutely sucks, but. it doesn’t mean they get a get-out-of-jail-free card for all of their future actions, either! the tragedy of this situation is that terrible things happened to Touya, and he then went on to do terrible things himself. the tragedy of it is that this is exactly how the cycle of abuse keeps repeating itself on and on and on. maybe one of the people Dabi killed had a child who will now grow up traumatized themselves, and potentially go on to pay it forward themselves when they grow up. the tragedy is that the eye-for-an-eye justice that Touya is seeking out won’t actually make anything better in the end. the tragedy is that we understand why Touya is so angry, but that anger has basically warped him into the gleefully sadistic dancing figure we see in this chapter who has stopped caring about anyone else’s pain or suffering and just wants his own revenge.

anyway. basically what I’m trying to say is that it’s possible for the concepts of “Todoroki Touya was an innocent child and a victim of abuse” and “Dabi is a grown-ass motherfucking adult who killed thirty people and PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT” to coexist lol. like, y’all wanted your moral grey, well HERE YOU GO lmao, eat up.)

lol but LOOK AT THAT BOY DANCE HIS LITTLE HEART OUT though

Todoroki Touya confirmed not a fan of the Endeavor redemption arc huh. well we all saw this coming lols

anyways here’s a sexy Touya for y’all

you really are the most theatrical bitch I s2g lmao

also for real though, what is happening with his hair? anime team in shambles here. they’re probably just gonna double down and keep it red. too bad though cuz this is a surprisingly good look on him

SO MANY CLOSE-UPS OF THE TODOROKI FACES

friendly reminder that Dabi without a doubt REHEARSED this speech like a thousand fucking times. LET US FALL TOGETHER!! COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL. apparently if you fake your own death in middle school you will never mentally age past that point and will remain a permanent chuuni

OH LMAO THAT’S THE END

we really just gonna end on “DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL”, huh. very well then. you know what song to play, Horikoshi. one, two... YOU ARE MY DAD. YOU’RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

#bnha 290 #dabi #todoroki touya #todoroki enji #todoroki shouto #todoroki rei #bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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rainydayotomes · 3 years

Text

Collar x Malice... as Yokai/Ayakashi

Recently picked up Ayakashi: Romance Reborn and got thinking about what our favourite ex-cops would be! Take everything I'm saying here with a small grain of salt however, as I am not Japanese and am literally just basing everything I'm saying off wikipedia and whatever else I can find online about Yokai!

Yanagi

Our young protector here is definitely an Okami, a wolf spirit

Okami are said to either protect your life, or take it, depending on your actions

Which.... fits this man to a tee. He protects you when you're little, and "takes" the life of the man who tried to bring you harm

In a more western sense, wolves are seen as cool, calm, and independent. All words that can describe our main man right here.

Enomoto

This man literally is an eyepatch

I'm sorry but he just is

He's called a tsukumogami. An object that gains a soul after 100 years. They can literally be anything. Some examples are a pair of sandals, some rolled cotton, and a grater.

He likes to say that he was once Date Masamune's eyepatch, but honestly you kind of doubt if this is true or not

Sasazuka

You kind of found it odd when you realized Takeru was always seeking warmth

But you quickly realized what he once when he looked at you and spoke- slitted eyes and a forked tongue meant this man was a Hebi!

Hebi are snake yokai that can take a few different forms, but Takeru's form preserves his human appearance but reveals a snake tongue and scales!

These yokai are seen as mysterious and secretive. And we sure do know that our boy Takeru doesn't care to talk about himself, or to many others at all!

Okazaki

Here's the one you've been waiting for- the resident cat boy!

Our man Kei here has one tail that branches into two- that makes him a Nekomata!

Unlike the usual folklore for Nekomatas, that has them take on a more sinister light.... Kei is definitely a hell of a lot more tame and friendly

Nekomatas can be seen taking the appearance of a human to live as one, or reanimating the dead or even killing sleeping humans

But Kei isn't like this at all- instead only choosing to take the form of a human so he can be closer to you!

He really is just a friendly cat! He has a beautifully shiny white coat of fur in his cat form and he looooooves to take naps on your lap!

Really, it feels like anywhere and everywhere you go, you find him taking a little kitty nap, even in his human form

He likes to proudly trot along behind you with a weird snack in his mouth, and rub against your legs for pets and attention in his cat form!

Shiraishi

Oh Shiraishi, you sly fox you

Literally

This man is a nine tailed fox- the most powerful form of kitsune

Kitsune are seen as sly, smart, charming tricksters who can perform a variety of cool, albeit sometimes cruel magic acts

Shiraishi, like the Kitsune, is extremely adept at 'shapeshifting' and becoming other people, or taking on a form they need to take to blend in with their surroundings

Kitsune are often accused of misleading, possessing, cursing, and humiliating humans. This can often lead to hatred towards them. Sound familiar? Looking at you, Mukai and Sakuragawa!

Sometimes you feel like Shiraishi has you under a spell, as you almost feel enticed to follow him or listen to his commands, but he insists he's done nothing of the sort to you!

Perfectly fitting for our favourite profiler, the kitsune aren't exclusively evil nor good

They can lean towards one side, or be perfectly in the middle.... just as our Shiraishi is

#headcanons #collar x malice #cxm #aiji yanagi #mineo enomoto #takeru sasazuka #kei okazaki #kageyuki shiraishi

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fbfh · 3 years

Text

light up the dark [VI] - leo x reader

genre: mid adventure domestic fluff overture, romance, smutty lemony bit towards the end

word count: 3k

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: very much so, yes

warnings: magic manipulation powers, feelings are hard and weird and scary, some innuendos, the phrase hot gusher out of context, the word dirty talk, trying to "proposition [someone] in front of two for one cookie crisp", brief credit card theft, jason thinks ketchup is spicy and gets clowned on for it, one use of the word lube in reference to mechanical lubricant, shirtless leo remember that one piece of shirtless leo viria art?????? remember the caption?????, your facade is beginning to crack, deadpan joke about being dead in space, making out, whole lotta sexual tension, brief mention of a boner, teeny tiny bit of grinding, getting interrupted, c*lypso

summary: after an extensive shopping trip, you, Leo, and Jason settle into your airbnb and wait for the others to arrive. Jason takes a nap, and Leo helps you dye your hair. You return the favor by helping him make dinner which leads to two things; a well timed boner, and a poorly timed visitor.

listen to: power and control - marina, 100 bad days - ajr, all I ask - adele

a/n: let's play spot the zack and cody reference within the first paragraph

also surprise the series isn't dead!! a shock to all but mostly me!!

as with all smexy smutty nsfw content, all characters are aged up to 18+

Standing in front of a wall of hair dye taller than you are should have been exciting. It would have been, except for the fact that all the colors were various shades of honey mist auburn. You really don’t want to have to make a separate trip to a beauty store for hair dye. Your eyes land on a firetruck red box, and gratefully, you realize you won’t have to.

“Perfect,” you muse, throwing it into your cart, along with the other stuff on the list you’d divided between you. You grab a few other things from the beauty section while you’re there; some makeup, eyeliner, a glass nail file, and a tiny pair of oil slick cuticle scissors.

Nearby is a guy a little older than you in a varsity hoodie and sweatpants squinting at a two in one shampoo label.

Perfect, you think, beginning to approach. You work your magic - literally - and within a few minutes you have his credit card. It takes way less time than it used to. You also didn’t have to smile and flirt nearly as much as you used to. You’re relieved that you don’t have to fake enthusiasm around rich douchebags the way you used to, and a new inky drop of fear begins to stain the corners of your mind. You can’t even bear to admit it to yourself, but you’re kind of scared. Before you can begin to question if you know what love is and if you’re capable of experiencing it without the influence of your divine heritage, you shove it all away. Not the place, not the time. You speed up a little, passing an endcap of candy, and knock a box into your cart.

On the other side of the store, Jason checks off items from their half of the list as Leo tosses items in the cart, talking along the way. Of course, you came up in conversation rather quickly.

“She’s… a real piece of work.” Jason says, treading lightly.

“You said it, man,” Leo agrees, sliding a pack of coke onto the bottom of the cart. Jason thinks for a moment before continuing.

“She seems to,” he tries to figure out how to phrase their dynamic, “not hate you as much as everyone else.” Leo laughs at the accuracy of the statement. He can tell Jason has something else to say, so he’s quiet while putting paper plates and napkins into the cart.

“Hey, Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Just… don’t let her hurt you, okay?”

He stops for a second. He’s so lucky to have a friend like Jason, one that will genuinely look out for him, but sometimes people caring for him still catches him off guard. Really off guard. With no idea how to begin to verbalize that complicated mess, he takes a split second to collect himself.

“Thanks, man.”

His smile is sincere.

Don’t let her hurt you. Can he just do that? Not let someone hurt him? Especially someone like you. He’s only had a few long term crushes before, all just out of reach and only getting further away. Only one had amounted to something - not that he could call what he had with Calypso ‘something’. She certainly wouldn’t. He looks around, trying to shake off the sting. He starts to get that unsettled, itchy feeling when he focuses on stuff like that for too long.

‘At least I got some good stories out of it,’ he thinks, messing with the back of his hair and fixing his hoodie strings.

“Here.”

He turns around, coming face to face with you, holding out a box very close to him.

“Hot gusher.” You say softly. What? His cheeks heat up, pulse speeding up suddenly. He glances at Jason, who’s at the other end of the aisle asking an employee something. Are you implying something? Are you trying to proposition him in front of two for one cookie crisp? He’s unable to look away from your gaze, intense and striking. You couldn’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean. Your fingers brush and he’s struggling to find an elegant way to say ‘hey, maybe the grocery store isn’t an ideal place for dirty talk’.

“W- uh, sorry, what?” he says, laughing in an equally hushed tone, needing to make sure you meant what he thought you did. You glance down, then back up.

“They’re spicy gushers. I thought you’d like them.” the feeling is gone in a split second, the same time it took to arrive, and is replaced with relief. He looks down at the box, realizing he’d taken it from you at some point. He laughs at the ridiculousness of his previous panic.

“Thanks,” he says, a reflective smile on his face.

You realize how comforted you are to see him smile, really smile, when you catch yourself having to keep a neutral face. One of the first times your resting bitch face has been intentional. Before you can say you’re welcome, Jason comes back over. You hand him the card.

“Pin number’s 0401.”

They both stare at you, skimming the label of a granola bar, completely unperturbed.

“How…”

“Credit card theft.”

The logical part of Leo’s brain starts to speak up, telling him to raise his guard, that his stomach should be twisting. If you can just take someone’s credit card without a hint of remorse, who knows what the hell kind of damage you could do to him if he got closer to you? And he really wants to get closer to you.

“Oh,” you pull a small pop top tube out of your cart and hand it to Leo, “this is for you too. You know, since you don’t like coffee,” you trail off as he reads the label. Caffeine and electrolyte drink tablets, red berry rampage flavor. He looks up at you, feeling warm and… something else, something ineffable, at the gesture.

You stare at each other, eyes locked, surprised at the strangely intimate feeling stirring in both of you.

“What are those?” Jason asks, snapping you out of whatever that was.

“Spicy gushers,” Leo says, smiling again, “I didn’t even know they made those.”

“Hot mango,” Jason reads from the side of the box, “that actually sounds pretty good.”

“No way dude, you can’t handle spicy food.” He starts to protest, and Leo continues, “You think ketchup is spicy!” He looks shocked.

“Okay, that was one time! It was a weird brand and there was way too much pepper in it!”

You bite back a giggle at their bickering, taking note of how much better Leo seems to be doing and finding surprising comfort in their banter.

It doesn’t take long to get to the airbnb and get set up. You all dump your bags in your rooms, bring in the groceries, and shove everything into the cabinets in a reasonably organized manner.

Jason heads upstairs to unpack and call Piper, announcing a few minutes later that they should be here in less than two hours.

“Perfect,” you pull out your hair dye from the last bag. It’s not exactly the manic panic wildfire red you’d initially wanted, but it’s definitely better than nothing. You stare at the box for a second, then up at Leo who’s trying to get one more bag of chips to fit in with the others.

“Hey,” you say, just loud enough to get his attention, “do you… can you get the back of my head?” He looks at you, questioning, and you hold up the box dye. He smiles, once again noting your softened edges around him.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and minutes later you’re in the bathroom, adorned in a big tee shirt covered in all your previous hair colors. He’s staring at your shirt, eyes dancing over the swirls and splatters of color. It reminds him of a painting he’d seen once, unable to remember the name.

You shake the bottle, skimming the instructions again, then start speaking to him, eyes still on the box.

“Take a section of hair, about this much,” you demonstrate, holding out a section of hair, “rub in the dye like this…”

You hand him the second bottle of red dye, and he starts on the back. His fingertips start separating out a section of your hair, and you still, a shiver running up your spine. He hesitates for a moment, then continues, and you hope he hadn’t noticed. His breath fans your ear, and you can feel the heat radiating off his chest. Your lungs are shallow suddenly, squeezed tight like a bouquet clutched in a shaking hand. You find it almost impossible to focus on dying the front half of your hair.

You don’t want it to stop, you realize. His fingertips dancing along your hair, the glimpses of his incredibly focused face in the bathroom mirror, the way he’ll gently turn your head to make sure he didn’t miss a spot.

“Shit,” he leans back, hunching forward. You look behind you, eyes landing immediately on the spot of red dye on his shirt.

“Shit,” you echo. He looks back at you, waiting to see how he’ll react.

“Oh, it’s all good - no worries. I already have a ton of motor oil and lube - lubricant… machine grade, petroleum based engine lubricant-” he laughs, “stains on this shirt anyway. Don’t sweat it.”

You almost laugh. A giggle bubbles up from your chest and stomach, but catches in your throat. Before it can come out, he slips off his dye stained gloves, and tugs off his dye stained shirt from the back. It seems to happen in slow motion. In a mere moment, your eyes engraving every detail, every line and curve and freckle to memory.

There’s really no delicate way to put it; he’s fucking jacked. Deceptively so. You’re frozen in place, cheeks flushed. You suddenly wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in his arms, held so close to him.

You snap yourself out of the thought, all of that occurring in just a few seconds. He leans past you, setting the dye stained shirt carefully on the counter, glancing at you intensely.

“Are you checking me out?”

You make yourself roll your eyes and turn away, replying, “I’m sure you’d love that.”

Angled away from him, you momentarily reprimand yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and mouthing oh my god. You turn back to him, not recalling the last time you had to deliberately keep up your aloof front around someone like this.

“So, are we finishing my hair or just gonna leave it like this?” you ask rhetorically, motioning to your half done hair.

He watches you do this, confirming his suspicion that you’re really not as cold as you let on. A smile blooms on his face, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as… cute as that.

“Yeah,” he replies, slipping his gloves back on. The things you do around him seem to mean more now. He notices the way your eyes flutter closed for a moment when he plays with your hair, working in the dye, or the way you still for a split second when he gets a little too close to the side of your face, checking that he didn’t miss a spot.

He doesn’t want this to end either. But eventually, your hair is fully saturated with dye, the timer on your phone counting down slowly. There’s still some dye left. He sits on the closed toilet.

“Your turn. Do me.”

“What?” you laugh.

“Yeah, a little streak - up here.” He leans forward, sectioning off a part of his hair.

“Seriously?” you ask.

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want to match…” he muses. Your eyes get this dreamy look for the briefest second, then you’re turning back to shake the bottle some more.

“I guess… I mean there’s too much dye to throw out, we might as well do something with it.”

It’s his turn, now, to feel the warmth from your body, your hands running through his hair. His eyes want to close, and bask in the feeling, but he refuses to miss out on the view of you so soft, so close to him. It doesn’t last nearly long enough for either of you, and much too soon you’re pulling away and throwing away the gloves and empty bottles.

By the time you finish cleaning up and throw out the garbage, it’s time to rinse your hair. Hanging your head over the tub, you let the water flow over your head until Leo tells you it’s running clear. He does the same, and you point out too late that he only had to rinse the dyed part, not his whole head.

You both laugh as you wrap a towel around your hair, teaching him how to do the same.

“Sweet, I’ve always wondered how to do the spa snail towel thing.”

“The spa snail towel thing?” You try in vain to fight another laugh.

“Yeah, you know… cause it looks like a snail, and they do it at spas…”

“Oh… my gods…” you laugh, exiting the bathroom and heading down the hall, “I”m going to get changed.” you call.

“Am I wrong?” he asks after you, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He heads to his room to do the same.

A few minutes later, you’re carefully pulling on your top, when he calls through your door.

“Hey, I’m gonna be in the kitchen, come down when you’re ready.”

“...Okay,” you agree.

You check your outfit in the mirror. You can still feel his fingers brushing your neck. Your head tilts at the memory. Snapshots of him pulling off his shirt in slow motion flash in your memory.

You realize how much of an affect the last hour has had on you. Your stomach drops.

You can’t possibly be falling in love. No way. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

You’re not the falling in love type. At most, you’d hook up with someone a couple times on the rare occasion you thought they were hot, too.

Oh, you decide, that must be what’s happening. I just think he’s hot. I mean, duh. Of course he’s hot. Did you see him in there?

That’s all you have to do; hook up with him once, maybe twice, then you’ll get over it. It’ll make his ex jealous, and they’ll get back together. It will go just like it always has. Then you can move on to whatever the next crisis is.

You take a breath, resolving to follow the plan, exit your room. You throw yours and Leo’s old clothes and towels in the hamper, and head down stairs. He greets you, and pulls you into the kitchen.

“I have something to ask you.” Your brow furrows.

“...Okay.”

He takes your hand in his, the other behind his back.

“Will you…” he looks at you, gaze piercing, “...be my sous-chef.” he finishes, holding out an apron, matching his.

You study him, a hopeful, surprisingly confident look on his face. His hair is still damp. You’re sure yours is, too. You wait a beat, before replying slowly.

“Yes. But I’m not wearing that.”

“That’s fair,” he says, setting the apron on the counter, “I will have to dock your pay for being out of uniform, though.” You let out a puff of air from your nose, biting back a laugh. He pulls out a skillet, bowl, and oil, and begins preheating the pan. You watch him pull out more ingredients, and begin to set things up.

“Right now we’re waiting on that,” he says nodding at the stove. You nod, inspecting a bottle of seasoning he’d pulled out, and settle into a comfortable silence.

He thinks back to the last time you had time like this - playing twenty questions at your apartment. A pit forms in his stomach as he remembers the conversation veering to Calypso, as it always seemed to. He shoves it away. Not this time. He steadies his nerves. “So, you want to play twenty questions?”

You agree, coming closer to him.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Your eyes flick over to the clock. You have a solid hour, hour and a half before the others are supposed to get here. You stare at him, brushing hair out of his face.

“I’d be dead in the endless void of deep space.”

He cracks a smile at how on brand that response was. Your fingertips trail down to his neck, rethen shoulder. The smile doesn’t leave his face, not completely. Your heart beats loudly in anticipation.

“My turn. Do you want to make out?”

His head snaps up, eyes locked with yours, trying to tell if you’re serious or if this is another example of your distinct sense of humor. But he can tell it’s not - there’s something a little too close to the surface in your eyes.

“Yeah. Yes, totally-”

You grab his collar, pulling him in for a kiss, and leaning back against the empty counter.

His lips are soft and warm, moving gracefully with yours. You barely register that the first kiss ends before you dive back in. You angle your head, deepening the kiss. He plants one hand on the counter, the other making its way to the small of your back. You flick your tongue past his lips, and his grip on your waist tightens. You clutch his collar tighter, other hand moving through his hair, still damp at the ends.

You can tell he’s enjoying what you do by the way his mouth quirks up ever so slightly at the corners, and by the way he starts to harden beneath you. You roll your hips into his, and he falters, sighing, breath fanning your lips. Not quite a moan, but you’re getting there.

The front door opens before you can.

Leo pulls away reluctantly, very reluctantly, and turns off the stove.

“That was fast,” he says, panting slightly and still very flushed. They’re not supposed to be here for a while, still.

A tall girl enters the kitchen, dark strawberry blonde hair pulled over her shoulder. She looks between you and Leo with a sour expression on her face.

“Calypso,” Leo says.

"...Hi."

112 notes · View notes

utterlyinevitable · 3 years

Text

Hurricane (Part 8)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: T+ Warning: angst Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.

A/N: The ending is trash. But it’s my trash. We’ve got one more chapter to go and then that’s a wrap on this project!

________________________________________

Naveen drove the car back to the cabin before parking it on the cobbled drive, the engine shutting off with a quick flick of his key. Still caught in an awkward silence as heavy as the rain clouds above, the trio padded back towards the cabin. Ethan watched Becca out of the corner of his eye, holding a few paces back with Naveen to let her approach the porch first. In the doorway, Sienna was waiting with two bath towels draped over her arms. A wave of relief washed over her petite form as she saw them; her big eyes softening and bottom lip quivering with all the emotions she saved for the worst of outcomes.

“Becca!” Sienna called as she closed the distance between her and Becca, wrapping her soaking wet friend in a hug around a large, plush towel. “Are you okay? What happened?”

For someone who’s life nearly drifted away with the current earlier, Becca seemed strangely quiet and calm. She didn’t even look at Sienna; darkened eyes trained on her peripheral, towards the unrelenting waters. “I’m fine, Si. Just went for a little swim.”

Sienna looked at her with critical eyes, not believing a single word coming out of her friend’s mouth. She would have said something in any other circumstances, but she was too thankful that Becca was breathing at the minute. This conversation would have to wait. She turned her attention to the other rogue swimmer now coming up behind them, handing him the other towel still draped on her arm.

“Ethan, are you okay?” she asked the attending, her trained doctor’s eyes scanning him for obvious injuries.

He took the offered towel gratefully. “Please, there is no need to worry about me.” He wiped his face first then draped the burgundy fabric over his shoulders, shivering as the cold wind caught his wet clothes, “Where’s Jenner?”

Sienna nodded towards the ajar door, her arms still wrapped securely around her best friend. “In with Elijah.”

Ethan nodded and went inside to his dog, sparing one last glance towards a despondent Becca on his way.

With a small, resigned sigh, Sienna turned her full attention back towards her friend and guided her to the door. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

Sienna led Becca inside and up to her room. Elijah didn’t notice the girls as he was in deep conversation with Ethan in the archway to the den. For that, Becca was thankful; they could just slip upstairs and rest.

As soon as the girls reached the threshold of the master suite, Sienna closed the door softly behind them and reached for her friend, her eyes severe now that they were blessed with the privacy they didn’t have earlier. “You okay?” She asked with a concerned hand gripping Becca’s forearm; her tone of voice emitting a firm warning that she would accept the truth and nothing else.

Becca shrugged Sienna off, taking a step back to shed her wet clothes and throwing on her pajamas. Biting her tongue this round, Sienna gathered up the strewn garments into a pile and wrung them out in the bathroom, making a mental note to wash them once the power came back on. Becca didn’t waste a single second before immediately crawling under the covers while Sienna watched with a very careful eye.

Sensing the stare, Becca sighed heavily. “Si, I’m fine. Truly.”

Her friend wasn’t convinced. “That’s what you say, but you were literally being ripped down stream, you could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

Light pads of sock-clad feet walked to the bed with private determination and sat on the edge of the mattress, her eyes begging. “Talk to me, please.” - a hand reaching for the top of Becca’s thigh - “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

But Becca wasn’t waving, keeping her gaze on the darkwood bedpost in front of her to avoid Sienna’s concerned one. “That I really need to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Bec-”

There was a knock at the door, making both ladies tense in place. Sienna reluctantly moved to open it and was met with Dr. Banerji’s warm smile, his medical bag cradled against his hip.

Ever in dire situations like this one, the senior doctor never seemed to run out of positive energy. He stepped in the room and glided closer to the bed, a comforting smile decorating his lips. “I’ve come to take your temperature and listen to your lungs,” he informed them. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Becca rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, letting Naveen inspect her. Thankfully, she only had a few cuts on her hands that were in need of bandaging, most likely inflicted while she fought to hold herself against the current earlier

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he applied ointment and bandages to her palms.

“Tired.”

“As expected,” he nodded. She wasn’t forthcoming, so he made sure to update her on what has been going on downstairs; “Ethan has a gash on his leg. Dr. Greene is stitching him up.” The gossiper in him carefully gauged her reaction while his more romantic side hoped to see something pass along her features, possibly akin to relief, but he was disappointed there was nothing but the tired eyes of a woman who’s been through hell that afternoon.

She felt his critical gaze searching her. The third one silently scrutinizing the last hour; and it made her blood begin to boil.

“I didn’t need rescuing. I know how to combat a riptide. What he did was stupid,” she clarified, indifferent to his comment.

Naveen chuckled and offered her a kind smile, although one that hid a hint of seriousness in it. “We both know exactly why he did it, Becca.”

Becca scoffed and shook her head, looking away.

The older doctor sighed and put away his medical tools. He obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of her tonight, and he’d been around this kind of temperament long enough to know when to resign. It was almost comical just how similar she was to his protégé, especially when it came to their ironclad stubbornness. “You’ve been through a lot today, dear. I’m prescribing you some much-needed rest.”

Becca rolled her eyes.

With a taut smile, Naveen gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder before taking his medical bag and leaving the room.

While Naveen was with Becca, Sienna had excused herself to make some tea. The petite resident was now staring at the kettle, transfixed, but not actually watching the steam spill out into the shadows of night. The worry for her friend still ever present in her mind and the creases on her forehead. In a daze Sienna poured two two mugs full.

She was just setting the kettle back down on the hob when a gruff sound had her jumping out of her trance and turning on the balls of her feet.

“Let me,” Ethan said quietly.

The two shared the same despondent look, though one of them had a deeper reason for it.

Sienna’s eyes expertly roved over him. He’d changed into clean pajamas, his hair wild and partially dry from drying it in a towel. His weight being carried on one side of his body, no doubt from his injury. His eyes were dark, and there were prominent purple circles under his eyes. And his large hand was extended towards her, waiting with all the patience of a dying man.

With a small smile, she hands the mug over without a single reservation.

And Sienna watches intently as Ethan gingerly makes his way through the cabin and up to Becca.

In the few short minutes she was left alone Becca snuggled deeper into the blankets. Rolled onto her side so her back was to the door and her face buried in a pillow begging her to spill everything all over.

Over her tormenting thoughts she recognized the patter of footsteps against the hardwood of the hallway and sniffled all the emotion back. If Sienna saw her crying it’d become a much bigger thing than Becca ever wanted it to be. She’ll save her tears for later.

When the steps grew louder, crossing the threshold, Becca muttered, “You should just sleep here tonight instead of going up and down to check on me.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

Even in the minimal light of the candle on the dresser Ethan could see her stiffen. Could hear the discontented sigh that escaped her when his words met her ears.

He stood suspended in the doorway, questioning every instinct he thought he knew.

Becca shifted under the sheets, moving to sit up in bed.

“Thought you were Sienna.” Her tone was still and level and wildly indifferent as she chanced a look at him.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he muttered back. Crossing the distance Ethan held out a mug to her; “Are you okay?”

She took the offering, a forced smile on her lips. “Peachy.”

“Becca…”

“I’m fine, Ethan.” She groans, deflating. “What do you want me to say?”

“You can start with why you’ve been upset with me all day.”

Becca couldn’t help the absolutely indecent chortle that erupted from her.

“I’m not upset with you. I’m mad at myself.”

Ethan made a garble akin to Huh?

And that just fueled the fire that’s begun to rage within her the last day and rivals the treacherous storm this hurricane caused.

“Why did you come after me?” She all but spat the accusation. “It was so reckless and stupid. You could have been hurt. You have stitches for Christ’s sake!”

“You could have drowned. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

The audacity in his unbridled poise had her stirring under the sheets and gripping the mug tighter.

“Superman Complex already belongs to someone else. Why, Ethan.”

It was a standoff between them. Him in his dry clothes - white tee and gray sweatpants, standing at the side of her bed. Becca was shielded by the blankets but still sitting tall and commanding for someone of her stature. He couldn’t read her ever-telling body language in the dim light of the master bedroom. All he could make out was her silhouette, rigid and doing all she could to cloak herself behind an unsuccessful curtain of hair.

Holding onto the sliver of revelation he had earlier, Ethan spoke truthfully.

“Because I care about you. You have such a fulfilling life ahead an-”

It certainly didn’t have the intended impact. For she cut him off with a resoundingly offended;

“Can you stop.”

His darkened azure eyes were wide with panic. “What -”

“I’m sick of these mind games.”

Her tone was flat, and that scared Ethan Ramsey more than anything. It would be better if she was yelling. He found himself wishing she was yelling even if he had no inkling as to what this argument is actually about.

“I know you care about me, Ethan. But is that all this is?”

She finally looked him in his eyes. The darkness of the room complimented the depths of her darkened irises, and he couldn’t see a single emotion in them. All he could see was all of his failures.

“I - I’m in too deep with you. I may have almost drowned this afternoon, but it was nothing compared to this choking feeling of swimming in all this doubt and uncertainty.”

He moved towards her. Placing his mug on the bedside. This close he could just begin to make out the hurt in the creases of her frown.

“Becca,” he reached for her. His hand suspended in midair, waiting for her permission to cup her cheek.

Instead, she looked down at her fingers tracing the Edenbrook logo on the pristine white ceramic mug between her palms.

Ethan waited.

And waited.

Frozen in place until she said something, anything.

“Be honest with me,” the words came out on an exhale. “No one else is around. Just me.” Her voice so frail as she turned her whole form towards him. “Tell me.”

The outstretched fingers on his hand curled inwards. His fist raised -- once, twice punching against an invisible opponent as his inner self weighed all his options.

He could tell her - he could finally be truly honest.

He could do what’s right.

He could lay everything out there and let her take the reins.

More realistically, he could continue to hold onto the values he’d had all his life.

The longer the silence hung between them, and the pattering of the storm echoed throughout the bedroom walls, the more a reality without her became apparent.

Rebecca Lao is a strong woman - he knows this. And Ethan is ever so aware that she won’t wait for him forever. If her stint today told him anything it’d be that it is he who couldn’t survive a life without her.

Every millisecond that passed, every slight turn of her head and stroke of her finger against the mug, he knew he was losing her. And for once, Ethan Ramsey - renowned doctor, known for his belligerent voice and affluent vocabulary - couldn’t find the words.

Just as she let out a disquieting breath, he took the leap. Knees pressed flush against the side of the mattress. Long, deft fingers grazing the quilt at the side of her hip. His eyes never leave her. Becca was looking down as if all hope was lost. As if his silence spoke for him.

It didn’t -

“I want to be with you.”

Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? Far longer than she’d care to admit, that’s for sure.

Ethan watched her lips part, her jaw slacken. Every pretty feature he adored more than life itself stunned stiff.

In true fashion Becca schooled her features as soon as his words rang through the mahogany room. Bitter words formed on her tongue, accompanied by a desolate huff,

“You sure about that?”

Not a single hesitation as Ethan responded, “Yes.”

“You sure have some fucked up way of showing it.” She watched him from the corner of her eye, shifting in his place and a rueful tug at the corners of his mouth.

Ethan kneeled down beside the bed, coming to her level, “I know.”

This is never how Becca imagined getting Ethan Ramsey down on his knees. All those fantasies didn’t join a near death experience or a fight.

His palms spread out on the quilt. All of him itching to touch her. If he could touch her, everything would be okay.

A beat forced itself between them. Ethan staring at his fingers inching towards her above the horrid colored quilt, and Becca looking blankly at the top of his head.

And then she murmured;

“I can’t be with you if you’re going to treat me like shit all the time.”

“It was never my intention. I just want what’s bes-”

“Best for me, I know. But you don’t get to dictate that. It’s my life, I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.”

He was listening. He was guilty and listening.

“I want you, Ethan.”

Those words were like music to his ears - to know she really, truly shared the sentiment. His deep blue gaze flickered up to her; staring at her from under long lashes and hanging on to her every word. This was everything they’ve both wanted - a proper admission of devotion. Then why did she look so sad?

“But not if you’re going to keep pulling away from me.”

Ah. There it was. All his faults coming back - his one mistake at abandoning her after she needed him most digging deep.

“I’m sorry. All of this was to protect you. I’ll always, always protect you.”

Becca’s heart skipped a beat at the unbridled conviction in his tone against her better judgment.

“I don’t need a hero, Ethan.” Becca shook her head in kind admonishment. “I want a partner. Someone who will let me make mistakes and just hold me through it at the end of the day.”

A bolt of lightning cracked in the distance. Their stare on one another so strong, devoted, that she couldn’t see through the clear blue of his irises and deep into his soul the moment the fleeting lightness peered in.

“Okay,” was all he said.

He responded quickly and with such fortitude that she couldn’t help but be skeptical.

Becca rose a brow.

Ethan moved closer and grabbed her hand, adding a squeeze.

In a low voice she said, “I want to make the most of the time we have left. If I get a job elsewhere… I don’t want to regret anything.”

His brows pulled together as this little known fact wormed its way into his rationality. “You’re thinking of leaving Edenbrook?” He held onto her hand just a bit tighter.

“I don’t know,” she half shrugged. “If…”

He finished the question for her. “Of course you’ll have a job. The spot on my team is yours.”

“Yeah, I know. But if…” Becca didn’t know how to accurately explain her fears. If they didn’t work out after all this would she still be able to work with him? Would he be able to? What if she received an amazing offer elsewhere. What happens to them if she takes it?

“Can we not think about this right now.”

Taking both her cold hands in his, Ethan simply nodded.

He could feel the scary stirring in the pit of his stomach. Every pang of it subsiding the longer her warmth was within reach. The last of his fears overtaken by the most adorable sound as she stifled a yawn.

Ethan let go of her hand just long enough to brush some strands back from her face. Un-showered and salty from the day’s events her cheek was still soft under his touch. He leaned up to press the lightest of pecks to her forehead.

Ethan was less than a few centimeters away from where she wanted him most. One movement and it could all be right and well. Becca brushed her nose against the stubble of his chin, coaxing him downwards. She could feel his grin against her skin as his stubble marked her nose. Every second he didn’t succumb, the tip grew redder and redder.

Ethan pulled back - too far for a quick descend down to her lips - and Becca almost threw a tempered fist into the mattress. Almost.

He was looking at her with such reverence it made her whole entire body tingle. Like his stares were the hand of Da Vinci trying to capture her image - immortalize it for the rest of time. Trying desperately to paint this to memory - this moment where everything for them seemed to change for the better. This was the moment Ethan Ramsey knew.

Becca was mere inches away. One more movement and she would know - know that he is irrevocably her. One more movement and he’d seal their fate.

Her eyes flickered down to his chapped lips, and this time she didn’t look away. This time there was no enchanting classic playing on the television, just the person before them. This time Ethan was thankful for her focus. He let out the breath he was holding in. Watched her eyelids flutter as the warm gust met her lashes. Leaned in and listened. Listened to the erratic thumping. Thumping of his heart or hers or the hurricane, he didn’t know.

Didn’t care. Couldn’t give a damn about anything other than her.

Their lips met. Softly, tenderly. The shortest, most endearing kiss they’ve ever had. Neither wanting to ruin this with overzealous lust.

They pulled back, unencumbered smiles gracing their features; and then she yawned again.

Light with strange happiness, Ethan gently pressed her back into pillows. Pulled the covers around her to tuck her in.

He kissed her chastely once more. Then pulled away.

Every step he took from her side of the bed had her chiding herself for being so stupid for believing him this time. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Ethan moved through the darkness. The raging winds of reality jolted through them, pounding on the expansive windows. Getting louder and more unruly the further he got.

But then he did something so unexpected. So surprisingly unlike the man she thought she knew.

He pulled back the covers of the other side of the bed and slipped in. Ethan shifted closer and closer atop the king sized bed until his arm wrapped around her waist, the other snaking under her neck. Becca welcomed him without a single hesitation or ill thought. This is exactly what she hoped for yesterday.

Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her - as he dove into the covers with her, never intending to come back up. Their sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. In this moment - and all of them to come, he’s sure - he and Becca were the only two people in the universe.

The storm outside was moving miles and miles away.

________________________________________

A/N: there was meant to be a cute bathtub scene at the end before they went to bed. it required too much effort so it got the axe. oh well! thanks for sticking around <3

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80 notes · View notes

justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Room For Two | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary: After a long weekend at the Denver Comic-Con, you were just looking for a quiet evening. That plan is out the window when all the planes are grounded at the airport and Tom arrives at your door. With no other rooms available in the city, Tom asks to share your room for the night. Just one problem, there is only a king bed in the room.

Warnings: fluff

“Finally.“

The hotel door slammed behind you as you let a sigh go. The past three days had been a whirlwind of panels, interviews, and autographs. It was only through multiple cups of coffee you were still standing. The Denver Comic-Con was the latest stop in the unending promotional tour.

You throw your shoes off and flopped onto the king bed in your room. You contemplate what to do first, a hot shower or order food as you massage your sore feet. The growl from your stomach decided for you and you lean towards the nightstand to pick up the phone.

“Room Service,” a cheery male voice answered as you hit the auto dial button.

“Hi, can I get the grass-fed burger, Caesar salad, and the Caprese pizza, please?”

“Charged to Room 1415?”

“Yes, please.”

“It will be 30 to 40 minutes.”

“Thank you.”

You hung up the phone and allow your head to sink into the pillows. You seriously contemplated falling asleep right now and hope you wake up when room service knocks. But you decided to wash the layer of the day off your body.

As you head to the bathroom, you shed your clothes piece by piece, tossing them on the floor along your way. You make a mental note to make sure you pick it up before room service gets there. You flicked the shower water on and turned it up as hot as tolerable. Once the water warmed up, you stepped in and let the near scalding water pour over your body. The tension left your shoulders and neck and the grime of the day, both literal and figurative, washed away. You wanted to stay under that hot water for an eternity but after about ten minutes you turned the water off and stepped into a fluffy bathrobe. As you exited the bathroom, you got an insistent knock on the door.

“That can’t possible be room service,” you muttered as you look through the peephole.

Instead of your food, you see a lanky ginger-haired gentleman rocking from side to side in front of your door.

“Tom?” you questioned as you open the door.

Tom turned on that smile.

“I hope I am not interrupting your evening. Do you mind if I come in for a minute?”

“Yes, come on in,” you stepped aside to allow him entry to the room. You noticed he was carrying a small duffel bag with him. “I thought you were flying out tonight.”

He pivoted around to face you.

“Funny thing. They grounded the flights. Someone thought flying drones in the air space was a good idea. After four hours, they sent everyone away.”

“Didn’t that same thing happen at Heathrow in December?”

“The same thing. They are calling it a copycat.”

“I am so sorry. If I can help, just say the word,” you commented as you turn to let him out the door. Tom does not follow.

“Well, that is the other funny thing. Because of the comic-con and the big education convention, there is not a spare room in the entire city.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“I am serious. Not even my original room was available. I thought about sleeping at the airport when I remembered you were staying a few days…”

Your eyes widened, realizing what Tom was asking.

“You want to stay… HERE?!”

Tom looked at the ground, scuffling his feet on the carpet.

“If you don’t mind.”

You looked to the single king bed in the room. Tom followed your gaze and then both of your faces reddened.

“I could sleep in the chair.” Tom gestured towards the armchair in the corner.

It was at least half his size and looked uncomfortable.

“No, that is not fair… We can…”

A knock interrupted your thought.

“SHIT!” you hissed as you pulled the bathrobe around your body, “that is room service.”

Tom held up his hands.

“I will handle it. Why don’t you go into the bathroom and make yourself decent?”

He made the last remark with a slight smirk on his face as his eyes raked over your still robed body. You throw him a dirty look as you grabbed your pajamas and shut the bathroom door.

Tom thanked the person who brought the food as you pulled a comic book t-shirt and well-worn pajama pants.

“Were you expecting company?” Tom yelled through the bathroom door.

You remembered your hunger induced over ordering.

“Are you judging me?” you retorted as you opened the door, smiling.

“Nope. I have always appreciated people with a healthy appetite. I must admit I am famished myself. Airport food is not my favorite.”

You suppressed a giggle as Tom eyed the burger. You gestured for him to dig in. Tom dug into the burger without a second thought and moans of satisfaction escaped his lips.

“Enjoying yourself?” you mumbled as you shove a forkful of salad in your own mouth, “I also appreciate a man with a joy for food, even such a high esteemed actor as yourself.”

Tom rolled his eyes. This was an ongoing joke between you two throughout filming. You mention his fame and him shutting you down every time.

“Please. None of that tonight. I am far too hungry and weary to fight you off.”

“Fair enough.”

***

The two of you eat the rest of the food in relative silence. Tom regal the tale of his ill-fated trip to the Denver airport and you shared crazy fan stories from the con. After every morsel and you bellies were full, the matter of sleeping arrangements came up once.

“So…” Tom started, looking once again towards the bed. “I am taking the chair.”

Your face once again reddened. You screwed up your courage to be an adult rather a hormone raging teenager.

“No, that is silly. You are like twice the size of that chair and it looks uncomfortable,” you wrinkled your nose, “Plus it is not like you and I have never shared a bed before.”

Tom had been a perfect gentleman and did everything in his power to make you comfortable during your first ever love scene. At the end of the day, the scene had made the film a hit. After that, you harbored a crush on the dashing Tom Hiddleston.

“True. So sharing the bed.”

You swallowed and nodded your head as if solidify your decision.

“Yep,” you get up and move the empty dishes to the door, “do you need to use the shower? You are more than welcome to use any of my toiletries. I promise there is nothing too girly smelling in there.”

“Thank you.”

Tom headed into the bathroom, taking his bag with him and the shower started soon after. You attempted to contain the mess of clothes on the bed. Not that it mattered.

You shoved all the clothes into the drawers and when the water stopped, you jumped underneath the covers. Tom strolled out. His shaggy locks were wet, and he was wearing pajama bottoms with a plain white tee. You could smell your soap wafting off of him. It was intoxicating.

“I took the right side. Is okay?” you commented, while playing with the edge of the sheet.

Tom laughed. “It’s fine, it is your room and I am the interloper.”

Tom slid into the bed on the left side and adjusted the pillows behind him.

“Would you like to watch a movie or something?” you picked up the remote.

“No thanks, darling. I am tired from the day. I bet you must be too. This is your first comic-con circuit, right?”

“Yeah, I guess I am tired too,” you lied.

You leaned over and switched off the light and plunged the room into darkness. You settled yourself into a night of sleeping. You arranged the pillows behind your head and then took one of the extra pillows and tucked off to one side to lie on. You turned towards Tom’s side to see him propped up on an elbow, taking in your sleep ritual.

“What in earth are you doing, Y/N?”

“I am getting ready for bed. What are you doing?”

“Watching you getting ready for bed. Do you always hug a pillow while sleeping?”

You made out a hint of a smile on his face.

“It is not hugging, it is for support,” you huffed down and wrap your arms around the pillow.

“For emotional support?” Tom countered.

“No.” you said, “I thought you were tired.”

“I am. But I am not too tired to watch this ritual. It is adorable. If you need to snuggle something, I am available.”

You reached over and smacked Tom in the chest.

“You are incorrigible. I’m fine. Go.. to.. sleep, Tom.”

“Suit yourself.”

Your sleep was fitful that night, tossing and turning all night. Around midnight, you threw the pillow to the ground and the comforter off your feet. Tom breathed heavy next to you. Tempted to elbow him in the ribs and wake him, you decided against it.

***

You woke the next morning to something warm and solid pressed up against the entire back side of your body. You attempted to roll over, but you realized something pinned your legs to the mattress. Craning your neck around, you see Tom pressed up against your back and his legs intertwined with yours.

Tom’s body was radiating heat, and you snuggled close to his body. You could feel his breath on your neck and you sighed to yourself.

If this is a dream, I never want to wake up.

As you continued to sink into his body, you inadvertently ground your ass into Tom’s crotch. You feel his erection through his thin pajama pants. Not even the great Tom Hiddleston was immune to morning wood. A soft moan escaped Tom’s lips, and he reached around your waist, pulling you in closer. Tom’s chin nuzzled into the crook on your neck and his hot breath tickled your skin.

You tried to extract yourself from his grip but only turned yourself around and now you were face to face with a sleeping Tom. His long lashes threatened to touch his cheeks and you let a sigh out at the sight of him.

Damn, why does he have to be so handsome!

The change of position caused Tom to stir and you see his eyes flutter open. With sleepy eyes, Tom noticed the space, or lack thereof, between the two of you and smirked.

“Morning, darling.”

“Morning, Tom.”

“I see you abandoned your pillow and went for something more satisfying.”

You scoffed, attempting to pull away from his grip but not trying too hard.

“I woke up with you wrapped around me. Perhaps you have a crush on me,” you joked.

Tom looked you dead in the eye.

“Perhaps I do. Perhaps I have been hiding away a secret torch for you since you first walked onto set. And perhaps I fear you would not reciprocate my feelings.”

You lied there in disbelief. Was Tom confessing his affections towards you? You didn’t know how to react.

“Perhaps you are wrong.” you parroted him, “Perhaps I would reciprocate your feelings. Perhaps I have been hiding a secret crush for you since the day of that bedroom scene.”

You looked up at him, again attempting to wriggle away. This time with more effort. Tom yanked you forward until the two of you were chest to chest.

“Perhaps I will just kiss you and see what happens.”

You opened your mouth to come back with a snappy comment but Tom leaned in and his lips met yours.

The kiss was everything you had imagined, but better. A warmth flowed through your body and you snaked your arms around Tom’s neck and pulled him closer. The two of you parted, breathing heavy.

“Wow,” Tom smiled with pride, “your breath smells.”

Both of you burst out into laughing.

“Your breath isn’t minty fresh either, darling,” Tom placed a quick peck on your lips. “Let’s get up, get dressed, and head downstairs for breakfast, Y/N.”

“Okay but you get ready first. I am not ready to get up.”

“Fair enough.”

Tom bounded out of bed and rustled through his bag before finding clean clothes. Just as he reached the bathroom door, his phone buzzed.

“Do you mind checking that, darling?”

You nodded, and he disappeared into the bathroom.

You picked up the phone and saw a text from Luke.

Tom?! Where are you? You didn’t answer your phone last night. It took some persuading, but I got your suite back at the Hyatt. Please call me back. I hope you didn’t end up sleeping in the airport.

That little liar! Tom had manipulated you to spend the night. What a sneak! Your initial anger gave way to mischief and joy. If not for Tom’s little subterfuge, the two of you may have never gotten together. Still, you couldn’t let him get away with his little scheme scot-free.

You seated yourself at the edge of the bed, legs crossed and his phone in your hand. Tom came out in jeans and a shirt, a toothbrush in his mouth. He looked at you confused.

“Who was it?” he questioned, taking his toothbrush out of his mouth.

You smirked, “Oh just Luke.”

“What did he want, love,” he came over and placed a minty kiss on your forehead, “everything all right?”

“Yeah,” you wiped the remnants of toothpaste off your face, “he was just worried you slept in the airport, instead of your old suite in the hotel.”

Tom’s smile fell from his face.

“I can explain…”

You stood up and walked until you were toe to toe.

“Oh? And what is your explanation for lying about your sleeping arrangements?”

You suppressed a smirk and giggle and you can see Tom scrambling to come up with the right words.

“Well..” Tom held his hands up in defense and then sighed, shoulders slumping, “I couldn’t think of any other way to get you into bed with me.”

His blue eyes sparkled back you, hopeful. You let a Cheshire cat grin spread across your face and you pulled up onto your toes to place a kiss on his lips.

“You are lucky you are so charming, otherwise I might be more mad. Besides, we need to discuss this.” you waved your hands between the two of you.

“We are?”

“Yes. Now excuse me but I have to get dressed…”

Tom settled onto the bed as though you would strip off your pajamas right in front of him.

“… in the bathroom.”

Tom’s face fell.

“You wound me.”

“You lied.” “I promise I will never make that mistake again, darling.”

“Good, now call Luke back while I get dressed.”

You closed the door and got ready. Tom dialed in Luke’s number.

“I’m fine, Luke. I promise. No, I didn’t end sleeping in the airport; I stayed with a friend. No, a female friend. Yes it is her, if you must know. Yes, Luke. I understand. Oh by the way, I will spend a few days in Denver, clear my schedule.”

Tom could hear Luke grumbling through the conversation. He couldn’t resist send him into a tailspin before re-engaging in radio silence.

“Oh and Luke, if you hear any rumors about me, they are true. The photos too.”

With that, he turned his phone off. The next few days were for you and you alone.

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