#then he just has to remember what he did to his supposed boyfriend. ko already hated himself though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cal-puddies · 2 years

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Kiss Full of Color Makes me Wonder Where You've Always Been // Luke Hemmings

notes: So this was supposed to be another collab but as @kindahoping4forever mentioned, I was feeling it and Crystal didn't want to interrupt the flow. She did the graphic and is amazing so show her some love too! :) Anyway, we're here to continue our confirmed mind loss in the Luke Lane.

Warnings: Boyfriend!Luke coming in hot with first sex in an established relationship (like it's the first time they are sleeping together not like first time first time.) there is some dirty talk but it's not filthy, just sweet.

Word Count: 4290

Cass Masterlist // Ko-Fis linked in our bios

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

You grumble as you turn over once again, exhausted but unable to sleep. You open your eyes to peek at the clock and grumble again when you see how little time has passed since you last looked. This night feels endless.

Your eyes flicker over to the nightstand and you run through your mental catalog of toys in the drawer, wonder if there’s something in there that could maybe lull you to sleep with an orgasm. You sigh, knowing that’s been a dead end recently. It’s not what you really want.

Your mind naturally lands on the subject of your new boyfriend, Luke. You’ve been dating for a few months now but he’s been gone for most of it, writing a new album with his band. You’ve gotten to know each other quite well via texting and phone calls and you know enough to know you really like him but there’s still a sweet sense of hesitation when it comes to being physical. You’ve fooled around a bit, gotten each other off both in person and on the phone, but you haven’t had sex, haven’t even been naked together yet, which is why it feels a bit weird to be considering calling him at 2AM. In any other context, this would definitely be seen as a booty call.

You shrug, hoping he’ll understand your intentions are pure. You grab your phone and send off a “Hey.” Before you can even set it back down, your screen is lighting up in the dark: he’s calling.

“I was literally just thinking about you,” he says warmly. “Didn’t think you’d still be awake.”

You grin because hearing his voice is actually quite nice. “Eh… having trouble sleeping. What are you up to?”

“Actually, I just got home… you wanna come over? I’m sure we could find something to wear you out.”

You swear you can hear the dirty grin in his voice and you smile, letting your mind wander to the last encounter you had with him before he left town. His broad, shirtless frame hovering over you in a hot and heavy make out session, you sinking your teeth into his shoulder while the two of you ground your hips together, leading up to him going down on you and you reciprocating. It fueled your personal fantasies and your phone sex sessions for weeks afterward.

“It’s late,” you chuckle. Your words are protesting but your body is moving around your room, changing into denim shorts, putting on a bra and looking for a cute top. You weren’t necessarily trying to impress him but you also didn’t want him to think you were a slob.

“But you’re not sleeping and neither am I… plenty of room in this bed if you do get tired…” He lets his point hang there, almost like he knows you’re actually thinking it over. “It’s also late enough that traffic won’t be an issue and if you come here, we don’t have to worry about waking up your roommate.”

“Seems like you’ve got an answer for everything… are you trying to take advantage of me?” You joke, already packing a bag to take with you.

“I don't think I’d call it taking advantage… seem to remember you inviting yourself into my lap last time I saw you,” he jokes. “But if you truly just wanna come sleep in my bed, I’m fine with that too. I'd just like to see ya.”

“Are you asking me to sleep over?”

“Uh… yeah, I guess I am. You coming?”

“I’m already out the door, Hemmings.”

“I guess I’ll see you soon. Drive safe.”

Luke leans against the door frame, wearing a well worn shirt, holes displaying his skin, and loose basketball shorts. When you’re within arms reach, he grins and reaches for you, cupping your face to pull you in for a kiss. “Hi,” he murmurs, pulling you inside.

“Hey,” you smile at him. He grabs your bag and takes it to his room while you kneel to pet Petunia.

He pads back out to where you are. “Want wine or anything?” He asks.

“Uh… sure, a glass could be nice,” you agree. He grabs your hand to lead you to the kitchen and you notice the house is mostly dark, save for a couple lamps emitting a soft glow.

You watch him effortlessly reach for a couple glasses and he picks a bottle from the wine rack. He hands it to you: it’s red and definitely more expensive than anything you’d buy, but you nod. He pours the glasses and hands you one, making eye contact.

His blue eyes were absolutely the first thing you’d noticed about him, followed by how broad he was. But you couldn’t say what you liked more now that you’d gotten your hands on him.

You stand and sip for a moment before he wraps his arm around you and walks you to his room. It’s brighter in the room and his suitcase is on the floor and open, clearly rummaged through.

“I missed you, you know,” he murmurs, pulling you in by the waist.

“I missed you,” you admit, hugging him. He kisses the top of your head as his arm tightens around you.

He holds you for a little longer before sitting on his bed. He watches as you look around his room. “Oh… you’ve never been in here before, have you?”

“Nope,” you shake your head. “I think this is only the third time I’ve been to your house at all.”

He pulls you over and sets the wine glasses on the bedside table. His hands rest on the back of your thighs while your arms immediately go around his neck.

His head tilts back and he looks up at you, you push his curls off his face and lean in for a kiss, letting your fingers gently scratch at his scruff. He lets out a quiet moan and pulls back just enough to say “Yeah.” Before you realize what’s happening, he’s sliding his hands down and smoothly pulling from behind your knees so you’ll straddle him.

“Oh!” You yelp with surprise.

He smiles wide as you settle onto his lap. His hands caress your waist and you lean in for another kiss. He quickly deepens it and you tangle your fingers in his curls, enjoying the contact and the kissing and his hot little moans when you bite his lip.

His hands move down to your ass, giving a squeeze, you drop your hands to his waist and gently push under the hem of his shirt, grazing your fingertips along his sides, gently stroking his skin with your thumbs. He lets out a soft sigh and you decide that you want to hear all his noises. You’re sure you’ve heard a lot of them, probably even most of them, but you want more to power those nights when he’s away.

He interrupts your thought process, pulling out of the kiss to reach behind his head and pull his shirt off. He leans in to kiss you but you pull back, trying to get a good look at his shirtless frame.

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I not…” he starts.

You grin at him and shake your head, “I just wanna look at you. Trying to familiarize myself with the expanse of your shoulders.” You drag your fingers from his neck across his shoulders. “Your freckles…”

He takes a deep breath, smiling softly at you. “Take your time.” You lean in to kiss him, relaxing your body against him. You gently scratch through his chest hair and his fingers work at the buttons on your shirt. “You’re gorgeous, y’know,” he murmurs.

“And you're incredibly handsome.” You rest your forehead against his as he pushes your shirt off your shoulders; you shrug it the rest of the way off and he starts kissing on the newly exposed skin.

It’s when he grabs you by your hips and tosses you onto your back that you decide that if he’s ready for sex tonight, then you definitely are too. He lays next to you and you kiss his nose before slotting your lips together.

Luke drags his hand up your body, tucking his fingertips under the hem of your bralette as his lips work down your neck. His hand engulfs your breast, fingers tugging your nipple. It’s the first time you realize he’s got his rings on because they feel so cool against your skin.

“Lu,” you moan, taking a couple shallow breaths.

He pushes up and sits back on his heels. He freezes with his hand on your breast, his other hand midway through pushing up your thigh. “Sorry,” he pants. “Do you wanna stop?”

“Quite the opposite, handsome.” You snap the waist of his shorts with one hand and your other encourages him to continue massaging you. You tease, “Is it usually your instinct to stop when a girl moans for you?”

He smiles. “Just don’t want to push too far,” he replies, letting his fingers graze over the front of your panties through the leg of your shorts. “It’s been a while since we've done anything together… in person, anyway. Just wanna make sure we want the same things.”

“I was gonna tease you for being shy but asking for consent is actually so fucking hot,” you groan, pushing your hips against his hand. “I promise you’ll know if I want to stop… but right now I’m ready to hear all your sounds and dirty words in person,” you admit, reaching your hand out to gently run your fingertips over his stomach.

He shudders at your touch, but stays where he’s at, his fingers still slowly and lightly brushing over the front of your panties. He eyes you closely as he pushes the fabric out of the way in favor of sliding his fingers through your folds. He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, grinning as you watch him curiously, “You taste better than I remember,” he comments as a cocky smirk crosses his features.

“You just gonna stare or are you gonna come down here and take care of me?”

“Oh, I’ll take care of you.” He grins and leans back in, pressing his lips to yours. He tugs at the button on your shorts and you lift your hips so he can pull them down and toss them across the room. You grab his face and pull him into another kiss, but it doesn’t last long.

His lips move down your neck, marking your collarbone. “Thought about you a lot while I was gone,” he mumbles. “Thought about that night before I left… how wet you got for me. Came just thinking about getting you to make those noises for me again.”

“Thought about you like that too, Lu… so noisy while I sucked your cock… such a turn on.” You tangle your fingers in his hair, arching your body into his kisses and touch, the dirty words comfortably spilling from your lips after weeks of phone sex.

He looks up at you, wide smile spreading across his face briefly before his lips press between your ribs. Both hands work on pushing your bra up so he can take it off of you. He looks you over quickly before leaning back into you to mouth over your breasts, finally sucking a nipple into his mouth.

Luke adjusts, putting a thigh between yours and you can feel how hard he is through the thin fabric of his shorts. You push his curls off his forehead and he looks up at you, eyes intense and full of lust. He pulls his mouth off, switches sides and uses his tongue to tease your nipple, circling it, flicking over it, never dropping eye contact.

You arch into him again, moaning at the fresh friction from the new placement of his thigh, he moans out too, squeezing his eyes closed.

You drag your fingertips over the back of his neck and down his shoulder. “Fuck Lu… missed the weight of you.”

“Missed your dirty little whines… been thinking about the way you’d take my cock, how tight and wet your pussy would feel around me,” he rasps, kissing down your body. He makes it to your belly button before you pull him back up by his hair. “How you’d look riding me…”

You moan out against his mouth. “Been thinking about that too.” Your words come out breathy as you grind against him and work your lips against his jaw, up to his ear, pulling his head back for better access. “Your hands on me, everywhere… grabbing my ass, you watching your cock disappear into me while I bounce on it, nails digging into your chest…” His hips hit extra hard at that and he strangles out a moan.

“Oh… fuck,” he groans as your teeth graze down his neck. His breath is shaky. “Wanna know how you’d sound, look, while I drive my hips up into you,” he moans. “Watch bruises form on your skin from how tight I hold you.”

You can feel the wet spot from his precum on your thigh and you reach down to cup his cock through his shorts. “Jesus, Lu, you’re gonna have us both cumming before either of us gets naked,” you groan, rolling your hips against his.

His breath is ragged as he presses your lips together. The kiss is slow and his body stills, allowing him to clear his head. “Mmm… you’re right babe, we gotta slow this down. Wanna enjoy you.” He kisses down your body, this time taking your underwear off. He kisses on both of your thighs, marking one and making sure to give you beard burn on the other, knowing you like that. He finally licks up the juices pooling at your entrance. Your body shudders at the feeling and his grip tightens at your hip and around your thigh. “I’ve got you, sweet thing,” he soothes. “You taste so damn good… so wet… bet I could just…” His voice trails off as he slowly presses two fingers into you. “Yeah… thought so,” he murmurs, easily working them in and out.

You look down at him, watching him both concentrated and amazed at how easily he’s able to work his fingers in and out of you. You wipe both hands over your face because you feel so damn good… and then his lips wrap around your clit and your hips buck and you claw at any skin of his you can reach. “Oh, oh… Lu… baby… please.”

He hums against you, amused, happy to have a moment to calm his body so he can thoroughly enjoy wrecking you. He keeps his fingers working at a moderate pace, curling into the spot that makes you pull at his curls, buck your hips and try desperately to push his face closer to you. His fingers continue but he pulls his lips away. You whine desperately and his eyes light up with joy. You watch him devilishly lick his lips, knowing your eyes are concentrated on him - he’s driving you wild and he knows it. “That’s good, babe,” he praises. “Gonna cum for me?”

The teasing lilt in his voice is even hotter in person than it was on the phone and then there’s the smirk that accompanies it that you didn’t get to see before. Your teeth are sunk so deep in your lip you’re sure you should be bleeding. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Yes… please, Lu.”

His lips wrap back around your clit, fingers still working. He doesn’t bother trying to hold your hips down because he’s particularly fond of your sounds and the way you tug his hair. He hears the whine he knows well and it’s even better in person than it is over the phone. Your chest heaves and you clench around his fingers. He moans at the feeling but quickly withdraws. He slows his tongue down, working you through the orgasm until you're pushing him away.

You tug his hair to pull him up, grabbing his jaw to pull him into a kiss. “Missed your mouth,” you moan.

“You taste so so good.”

“You got condoms?” You ask, blinking innocently up at him. You watch his face soften briefly and he rests above you on his elbows.

“We don’t have to go there…”

You squeeze his hips. “Lu, we’ve got like four options here: We call it a night, I blow you, you go jerk off or we could finally have sex since you’re finally going to be home for more than three days.” Your fingers pull up his sides and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. “And I’d prefer the last option… if you want to, of course.”

“Of course I want to,” he replies, slotting your lips together. He sits back on his heels, smiling widely at you, and you run your hands up his thighs under his shorts. He reaches into the nightstand and tosses a bottle of lube and a condom onto the bed.

You lick your lips as you move your hands up, over the tent in his shorts, to his hips. You slip your hands into the waistband and he quickly gets the point; he hops up off the bed, shimmying the shorts off. You hear the dull thud of his cock hitting his stomach and then he’s standing stark naked in front of you.

You sit up on your knees to take in the sight of him: he looks deliciously contradictory, somehow both angelic and sinful. His large, intimidating frame looms over you while his soft curls fall perfectly in his face, despite your hands tugging at them every which way. His blue eyes shine with both affection and lust, his tongue that just made you see stars peeks out from between his perfectly pink lips. The mark you’ve left on his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows thickly, his expansive shoulders, broad chest, the thick tufts of hair on his chest… there’s so much you want to get your hands on immediately but you want to stop and appreciate him more. “You look like you could eat me up right now,” he hums with a grin.

You smile up at him, reaching out to trace the puzzle piece tattoo on his ribs before pulling him in by his hips to look for more tattoos you hadn’t gotten to see before. You nip at his belly button appreciatively, run your fingers over his inked skin, stopping specifically to trace over his thigh tattoo.

His hand smooths over your hair. “Honey,” he murmurs, waiting for you to make eye contact. “First time naked together and I feel like you’re just here for the tattoos,” he quips, smiling.

“There’s just so much to see… appreciate… and I definitely do appreciate what I’m seeing,” you flirt, dragging your fingertips up his thigh, grazing the underside of his cock.

“Well… I like the way you're looking at me,” he rasps. Both hands tuck into your hair as he cradles your face and pulls you in for a kiss. Your hand wraps around his cock and he shudders. “I’m not gonna be able to take much more,” he admits, looking at you, still holding your face.

You pull him onto the bed with you. “Then let’s stop stalling.”

He pulls you in for another kiss and then the two of you are moving, trying to figure out positioning. It takes a few minutes before you're both laying back, heads on the same pillow, soft open mouth kisses while your hands explore a little more. He squeezes your ass and pulls you tighter against his body and that’s what ultimately gets you to roll him onto his back so you can straddle him.

“This OK for you?” You ask, reaching for the condom and lube.

“If it’s what you want,” he breathes. “I’ve got no problem with this. Gorgeous girl, great view…” You hand him the lube and unwrap the condom; you lean in to kiss him and roll the condom on while he pushes two lube covered fingers into you to spread it around.

You moan as he twists his fingers around and when he pulls out, you push yourself up and steady yourself against his firm chest with one hand, using the other to swipe the head of his cock through your folds, positioning at your entrance. You slowly start to take his cock, having to do a few shallow bounces before taking more of him, again and again until he’s bottomed out.

His head is already thrown back, eyes screwed shut, a slight pant leaving his lips. One hand grips tightly around your hip while the other cups your face, thumb tugging your bottom lip.

He whimpers as you roll your hips, a quiet moan leaves your mouth too. His eyes open and he finds you quickly, watching your body as you find a rhythm that causes both of you to moan. He doesn’t let go of your hip - in fact, you can feel the bruise forming - but his free hand explores your body.

You watch him watch you, his eyes are all over your body, fascinated as his cock disappears inside you, the way your body moves, working to bring pleasure to you both. He groans, “You feel so good.”

“Luke,” you gasp, slowing down a bit.

He bites his lip and asks, “Babe, can I?” You nod, lids half closed. He grips your hips and pushes you up a bit, planting his feet on the bed so he can thrust up into you. He quickly speeds up and you drop your hands to his chest, bracing yourself for the way his hips pound into yours, the slapping of skin just barely louder than the whimpers falling from your lips, the moaning and groaning from his.

You somehow pick up on his familiar whine, between all the other noises in the room, your own included.

“Holy fuck.” He cries out and you watch him strain for a couple more thrusts before making a deliciously dirty sound as he cums into the condom. He drops his hips back to the bed and gives you an extra tight squeeze at your hips.

You collapse forward on his chest. “Feel good, baby? Sound so fuckin’ good when you cum,” you pant, kissing on his neck, scratching your fingers through his chest hair.

“Yeah… yeah.” He nods, finally letting go of your hips. You push up and lay next to him, kissing him passionately. “Noticed you weren’t making your typical noises,” he points out quietly.

“Nah… but it always takes me a while to finish with new partners… plus you gave me a killer orgasm before, so…” you shrug, pecking his lips. You notice the concern in his eyes and reassure him, “Don’t think it wasn’t pleasurable for me just because I didn’t, Lu. You felt amazing and I can’t wait for us to do this more. But I’m happy to finish myself for now.”

“I’d be happy to help,” he offers, face going a little red.

You cup his face and offer him another soft kiss. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and then we’ll see about me.”

You’re still catching your breath when Luke comes back and he very quickly climbs on the bed, pulling you over and onto your side, hooking your leg over his hip. He kisses you as his fingers sneak between your thighs. “Mmm…” he hums. “Still wet for me.”

Luke’s lips kiss along your jaw until he’s nipping your earlobe and his two fingers push back into you as his thumb toys with your clit, quickly working you up again. You almost expect him to pick up into dirty talk again but instead he meets your moans into his ear with moans of his own, quickly hurtling you toward orgasm. You pull him closer, suddenly needing to feel his body against yours. His chest hair rubbing against your nipples is unlike any sensation you’ve ever felt before and it pushes you over the edge.

“Oh fuck… Luke,” you moan. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, teeth sinking into his chest as you try to muffle the desperate whine you let out as you cum. His fingers slow, thumb rubbing light circles over your clit as you come down.

You look up and the two of you share several slow kisses. He pulls his fingers away and cradles you closer to his body, letting you catch your breath. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before showing you into the bathroom to clean up.

“Wanna shower or anything?”

You stretch your arms above your head, standing on your tiptoes, letting out a big yawn. “Nope, as promised, I’m worn out.”

When you wander back into his room, Luke is sitting against the headboard under the blankets. He smiles big at you and holds his arms out, “C’mere, honey.”

You’re instantly across the room, fitting yourself against him. He takes the moment to nuzzle his nose with yours. “I really enjoyed this, Lu,” you murmur into his neck.

“I’m glad you came over.” He squeezes you, kissing your forehead. He feels you yawn against him and announces, “Alright, time for bed.” He pulls the blanket down next to him and you crawl inside. He tucks you in, turns off the lights and presses himself against your back.

“So… round two in a few hours?” There’s a teasing in your voice but when you look back at him, he presses a kiss to your lips in eager agreement. “Good night, handsome,” you yawn, finally drifting off to sleep as Luke gently rubs your back.

#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #Luke hemmings smut #cal-puddies writes #kiss full of color makes me wonder where you’ve always been #yes the title is from a Kasey musgraves song #yes I love this couple too #yes please leave feedback #as always #thank you

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hanayumi · 1 year

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𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭

— matsuno chifuyu x fem!reader

wc. 7.2k

tags/warnings unrequited love, hanahaki au, forced infidelity, noncon, gaslighting, light degradation, jealousy, angst, lowkey yandere, porn w/ plot basically, this is a sad one:(

notes happy late white day!! ^^

he hides a deadly secret for your sake. but as with all secrets when it comes to you, it isn’t long before you find out.

snapshot;

The act is up. The secret has been spilled. He should be relieved. But, truth be told, he regrets being born in the first place when he sees your reaction. All the flowers he’s wrung out of his throat combined can never hold a candle to seeing the pain flash across your eyes and your face — your hands, your warmth, and your figure, all recoil from him as if he were scalding iron.

“What?” you force out. “What… did you just say?” Your voice has become warped in horror and mangled in the cavernous jaws of denial. A crime scene; a mistake written in blood that only humanity could ever commit. He should not be in love with you just as much as you will never be his.

“I’m in love with you.”

He’s not surprised. No, not really.

You’re perfect in every way, so it’s only natural. If you were his girlfriend he’d feel the same — protective, possessive, doting. It’s expected. Chifuyu supposes he should’ve seen something like this coming sooner or later.

But it doesn’t make his blood boil any less.

Smug bastard. He thinks he’s hot shit, doesn’t he? Chifuyu doesn’t know what he’s looking at besides a poor excuse of a man. Ko…Kosuke? Was it? He can’t bring himself to remember — barely two minutes into the conversation and already he wants to leave. And take you with him, of course. But his legs are glued to the scratchy booth as if weighed down with stone cold cement. He can’t move and he can’t take his eyes off of you. Off the two of you.

Damnit… He wants to leave, so bad, but there’s been just a single, detrimental issue and now he’s left with a forced smile plastered on his face, watching this proud fucker flaunt how he’s stolen away the only girl he’s ever fallen in love with.

It hurts.

He’s tried deluding himself into thinking it wasn’t true, tried so hard that at some point he nearly believed it. That the nights you returned past midnight were because you caught up with your highschool friends again; that the rumour he heard of you and him in passing conversations with your colleagues were just that — a rumour. Fake. Fabricated.

What is the meaning of this? he almost wants to shout.

This is the proof, isn’t it — the stone cold evidence right here in the flesh. Presented to him without a shadow of a doubt, in the form of a sharply-dressed gentleman with a handsome grin with the dreamiest green eyes he’s ever fucking seen with his arm around your shoulders:

You have a boyfriend and it isn’t Chifuyu.

It’s Kosuke who’s the CEO of a big-shot business who can give you everything you could ever want.

(Chifuyu would give you everything until his heart stopped beating.)

You’re chatting away, oblivious to the undulating tension right across the table. Kosuke, amused, with just the right amount of teasing and a pinch of tenderness, twirls a strand of your hair around his finger and smiles (as if he owns you, as if it’s his god-given right to touch you in that way), and carries on the conversation like normal — waxing poetic about your meet-cute and how it was love at first sight, about how you’ve already got your future together planned out, about meeting your parents and siblings and how they all welcomed him with open arms. All the things that Chifuyu has experienced before and way earlier too.

“Careful, it’s hot,” says your knight in shining armour, his mouth blowing at the steam rising from your tea. Bile rises in the back of Chifuyu’s throat as he watches you smile at his words.

Kosuke speaks eloquently. Charmingly. Everything he says screams like a page snuck from a romance novel. Everything about him radiates a dangerous charm. So that’s why you’ve fallen for him.

Chifuyu wants nothing more than for him to get his filthy hands off of you.

He watches Kosuke’s eyes, the way they tell him everything — softening, shimmering, catching the light and entirely trained on you when it’s your turn to speak, and shit, holy shit, the guy’s in love isn’t he?

He really, really should’ve stayed home. Bitterness and alcohol is a deadly concoction. Chifuyu can feel the sting of tears biting at his eyeballs so he gulps down sweet, dry sake as if it’d help the pain subside, but there is no escaping this.

A radiant smile is blooming on your face at something your boyfriend says (he can’t hear, it’s hard to hear and breathe and focus). The corners of your eyes crinkle, and for once his heart aches when he sees it — and the hurt is so fresh, so unfamiliar and new and different from the usual joy that your smile brings to him, so he hyper-focuses on anything but your face to keep the tears from falling. Anything, anything at all like— like that tiny ceramic cup containing his sake, or the rain pelting soundlessly against the glass window. Inhale and exhale. Not now. Not yet.

“‘Fuyu? What’s wrong? You’ve gone so pale.”

Don’t. Don’t look at her.

“A lightweight, huh?” Kosuke, in his peripheral, leans back against the booth cushions and there’s a knowing curl on his lips. The light above the bar’s countertop flickers, lending a charismatic sheen over his eyes. “It’s alright. I used to be that way too — but my father built my tolerance from a young age.” He winks, but it doesn’t draw a reaction from you nor Chifuyu.

Chifuyu feels your worried stare burning into him, watches your frown out the corner of his eye, the little downward tug of your lips, and his heart feels like it’s been forced down a paper shredder.

“I’m fine,” he smiles weakly, meeting your eyes for a second before darting away. The half-empty cup of sake swirls in his grip. “Just… a little surprised. You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

Your eyebrows raise but before you can reply Kosuke takes your hand. Kosuke, Mr. Fucking Perfect, takes your hand — he starts rubbing your palm like a purposeful display of intimacy and like Chifuyu isn’t watching right here.

“Well, it all happened so fast. We weren’t sure when to make it public,” he hums. But it’s clear as day, in his tone hides a subtle slyness, viciousness. He’s looking at Chifuyu, with those narrowed gemstone eyes that captured your precious little heart, not as an equal but as a rival.

No. Not a rival. Something more pretentious. Something as despicable as the lies that he probably fed you to lure you to him.

I don’t like him.

“Kou,” you squirm, tensing in Kosuke’s grip. The man in question frowns as you tug your hand from his, retreating it back to your side. Chifuyu wishes you’d been more forceful, if only to resuscitate his own paperthin delusion.

But — the thought comes rapidly, like pinpricks as he senses your distress — but how could he ruin this for you?

This — him, your childhood friend, your best friend, meeting your boyfriend, or future husband, even — must mean a lot to you. Surely. Chifuyu knows from the way you’re fidgeting in your seat that you’re getting nervous. Antsy.

Years of familiarity have granted him, if not heartbreak, the ability to glean your emotions at a mere glance. And, he supposes, the same can be said likewise. The way he sees it, Kosuke has your heart dancing in his palm and you would sooner get rid of a limb than allow this first, crucial meeting to fall into ruin.

(He is not going to let this meeting fall into ruin.)

He clears his throat, the sharp vibration stifling the tremor deeply ingrained into his nerves. The acrid feeling in his gut dissipates, slowly, evaporating with a firm swallow.

Chifuyu nods a little too sharply.

“Of course, I understand completely. I’m happy for you both, really.”

Why can’t you be mine?

Nighttime. He jolts in bed with a whisper of your name tearing through chapped lips, shirt glued to his back, damp with cold sweat. It’s cold. The first thing he notices is the sharp chill making its presence known in his every vertebrae, rattling his bones and biting at his numb ankles because sometime in the night he kicked off the blanket.

His fingers run through sticky tresses matted to his forehead, groping for his surroundings, for reality. He can hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears. It was a dream, he’s in his room — it was just a dream. A quick glance at the fluffy pile all bunched up on the floor and the pain comes back; seething and aching and tearing up his insides, because even seeing a damn blanket you gifted him a week after moving in makes the memories come flooding back.

Your hesitant smile when you handed it to him. Your shy remark. The way your face lit up when he told you it was just the type he was looking for.

He chokes on a sob.

He should be used to it — he should, fuck — but the harder he tries the more he feels like he’s drowning. His palm massages circles into his forehead as if it’d help the throbbing subside. It hasn’t been a week since that incident but all he sees now is you — more than ever, now that he knows you’ll never be his. At night there is hardly any solace. At night, his dreams taunt him mercilessly with your figure.

Bloodshot eyes scrutinise his hands until they become more than just a blurry outline. Car headlights sweep through the streets, momentarily depositing strips of tangerine into his room through the window, only serving to deceive him. In his dreams you’d been waiting, grinning, tugging him by the hand and wrapping your arms around his neck. He could smell you — he swears he could smell the flowery perfume that you always keep on your upper shelf — but in a fragment of a second your perfect and pretty form was ripped from him.

Waking up to this arctic cold is nothing but disappointing.

(He has to get used to this.)

Chifuyu stumbles blindly out of bed and to the door, hand hovering over the doorknob but it won’t quit shaking.

What time is it? Are you sleeping well?

Salvation lies in the room just beside his — your sleeping form all curled up in fluffy blankets, in all things resplendent and soft and beautiful. In his mind he pictures you, asleep and soft little snores, living out blissful dreams of your boyfriend and all the giddiness and happiness he probably makes you feel.

And his heart aches and aches and aches.

In the bathroom sink there’s darkness swirling down the gutter and he splashes cold water on his face to stop his head from spinning. A blur. Everything’s still a blur. So cold. Where is the fucking light switch? The sound of rushing water blends with his gasping breaths. Something is wrong somehow — like there’s something within him fighting to see the daylight. He reaches for his throat with one hand, and then another when he feels something odd.

Nails dig into the skin; he’s clawing now. It feels tight. Vestiges of your smiling face flash with lurid vividness in his mind — when you brushed a strand of his hair from his forehead to when you fixed him dinner at half-past midnight over a crackling stove to when you smiled as you introduced him to your new boyfriend.

Are you happy?

A strangled whimper — he misses you, you’re in the room down the hall and fuck he misses you — and chokes. He coughs and splutters until his lungs heave with exhaustion and in his mind he screams irrationally for you. Help me, I feel like I’m dying (Name).

Something bubbles uncontrollably from his throat and he gags harder, choking on his tears. This time they come naturally, unrelentingly, dripping onto the sink in tiny expanding droplets. Please…

His vision wavers; his body goes rigid.

Is that… blood?

A hand comes to swipe at his lips, but it’s not liquid that he comes into contact with. Fuck. Nonononono. He lurches from the sink, back slamming against the wall. It’s not blood.

He knows what that is.

The lights are off and it’s pitch black and he can barely see shit but he knows. All of a sudden the room permeates with a sickly sweet fragrance, so thick it’s suffocating, and he knows what that feathery-soft texture clenched between his trembling fingers is. Knows the curious little myth that he brushed off months earlier, without so much as batting a single eyelid, well because love is stupid because love is fickle and there’s no way—

There’s flower petals spilling from his throat.

“Not going to bed yet?”

His fingers over the pen freeze. His eyes flicker to the clock hanging on the wall (2am) and then to you — peeking over the doorframe, worry pinching your eyebrows together, hands clutched close to your chest. The oversized sweater clinging to your shoulders doesn’t look like yours — it’s way too big. His throat tightens when he sees it.

“Uhh… no?”

“It’s 2am. You have work tomorrow, don’t you?”

Oh, yes — work.

Things at the pet store are starting to take a back-burner ever since he started coughing up literal flowers.

He releases a sigh, dropping his pen so he can fiddle absently with the thin letter opener. The news article is swept under the pile of envelopes — the one with the headline that makes his hands feel clammy with sweat — and he chuckles nervously, afraid to meet your gaze. “Well, oops.”

“‘Oops’ my ass,” you huff, a hand on your hip. “Care to explain?”

He bites his lip as he thinks of a reply, something that isn’t along the lines of, because I love you, I love you so much that I’m dying.

“Nothing serious. I just felt restless tonight,” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair, and it’s half true — he feels restless every night.

“So I figured I’d go through the mail. Those are yours, by the way. I’ll leave them here for you to sort in the morning.” He gestures to the stack shoved to the top of the counter, trying to ignore your deepening frown. To his relief you don’t prod further, but instead of going back to your room you opt to stay — sliding over the cushioned stool wordlessly, taking an envelope out of the dozens to turn it over in your hand.

You never liked going to bed alone.

He resumes his business, fingers working to slice open an envelope that’s addressed to him, but it’s hard to concentrate when your dissatisfaction is palpable from your little sighs across the table. It’s clear you aren’t paying attention to the little scribbles on the envelope spelling out your name and address. Then, as if you had an uncanny ability to read his mind, you speak up.

“‘Fuyu. Do you… dislike Kosuke?”

He chokes. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not stupid. I saw how you reacted that day,” you say, flinging the envelope into a stray pile. Your elbows slide over the counter; you rest your chin on your palms and stare at Chifuyu intently in that way that makes him feel his defences peeling off layer by layer, leaving him feeling exposed, vulnerable, as if you see through him as clear as day — as if you’re searching for something you know for certain exists somewhere.

His nose wrinkles. “Well, now, whatever did I do to make you think that way?”

“It’s just, y-you know, that night I brought you to meet him for the first time, remember? We were out drinking?”

He nods for you to go on, an eyebrow arched. You clear your throat bashfully. “A-and, you seemed as if… as if…” you trail off, face flushed, hands fumbling with the gigantic sleeve of your sweater. “I dunno, when he introduced himself you kinda zoned out for a bit, so I thought maybe you didn’t like him o-or…”

Oh. Of course you would notice. You care about him, after all.

Chifuyu sighs.

“Calm down. I know what you mean.” He sets down an envelope. A hand extends in front of you — an invitation from him — and try as he might he can’t suppress the spark that goes off like a firecracker in his chest when you take it. Without hesitation. Without asking why. Without the ‘I have a boyfriend’ rhetoric.

“Honestly? I think no one is deserving of you,” he says, eyes softening when you return his gaze. He lets his fingers fill in the gaps between yours, and again he’s reminded of how well your hand fits in his. He smiles, but it’s awfully melancholic — you may almost mistake it for sadness. “The thought of a stranger suddenly coming along and, well, stealing my best friend away doesn’t sit right with me.”

“But,” he continues, before you can protest to his choice of words, “I trust you, and it’s not my place to say anything about your relationship. Frankly, you’re too soft. It’s none of my business, you know. Kosuke… he seems like an honest person. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

The silence is quick to claim territory after he finishes speaking. He can’t tell if the look in your eyes is shock or doubt. Your bottom lip trembles a fraction. He holds his breath and waits— for your smile, your dismissive remark, your joking comment, anything.

Nothing. Then the warmth of your hand disappears from his, and you’re getting off the chair, and for a second he thinks you’re going to leave him again — but you don’t. All it takes is a few hurried steps before you’re rounding the corner of the kitchen counter, wordlessly plunging into his arms, burrowing face-first into his shirt. His hand cups the back of your head, stroking lightly, and it feels familiar. Just like how he always used to hold you.

You’re warm, like the tight hug of a kotatsu blanket in the winter.

“Thank you,” you whisper into the softness of the fabric. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” You smell like peaches and everything he’s ever wanted. His heart is thrumming in his chest and he worries that you hear it too. He listens, faintly, for the sound of petals rumbling in his lower windpipe (…perhaps today it’ll be peonies).

“Is that so?” Chifuyu doesn’t dare move an inch.

You giggle. “Yes,” you affirm, arms winding around his waist as far as you can reach. When you hug, you never fail to do it with all the strength you can muster, and it never fails to make him smile.

“Go to bed soon, okay?” you squeeze harder.

“Mm. I will,” Chifuyu murmurs, strands of your hair draped around his fingers.

There’s no cure for this disease. (Not one in this century and not in the next. At least, according to that goddamn news article.)

It’s not fucking fair, he thinks, because he knows every single thing there is to know about you.

Knows your first crush, your all-time favourite comfort food, how you like your coffee, the area you grew up in, that your hands get ice-fucking-cold in the winters, that you drool in your sleep only to deny it when he teases you. He knows things that you never told a soul besides him, that you swore you would take to your grave.

But most of all?

He knows that he will never love someone as much as he loves you.

But how can he tell you that? When the glint of your engagement ring is as blinding as it’ll ever be, a glinting blue opal sitting proudly atop a sparkling silver band. When that bastard is running his hands along your jaw, whispering something in your ear that makes you blush and tighten your grip around his arm. When all Chifuyu can see is red red red.

Red like blood. Red like the wine swirling in your fiancé’s champagne glass. Red like your cheeks and lips and the camellias clambering up his windpipe. A numbness stabs into his veins and everything feels distant and far away, the only sensation grounding him being the familiar burning like a rapid fire in the back of his throat.

The one with an arm around your waist shouldn’t be Kosuke. The one who gets to key your name into his family register, slide the prettiest engagement ring onto your finger and call you his bride-to-be shouldn’t be Kosuke.

(Who should it be, then? Himself? How pathetic, Chifuyu thinks. He can barely stand straight, let alone muster the strength to tell you.)

Fuck. He reels, stumbles; fingers grasp fruitlessly at empty air, then there’s a brutish warmth drifting close, then suddenly he’s tearing away from someone’s touch in sheer panic — fuckfuckfuck, I’m sorry, I can’t, I have to go.

It’s not fair, his jaw clenches. Teeth gnash on one another.

It’s not fucking fair, his mind repeats. Again and again like a spray of bullets. From his lips more petals tumble — rain onto the cold pavement like autumn downpour. Once it starts there’s no way to stop. Streetlights flicker and dim, mocking his figure hunched over the gutter by the roadside.

Chifuyu’s tongue is spiked with the taste of iron; he must have bitten down too hard when he fled the party. The daffodils that he conjures up are drenched in a reddish syrup, but smell sweet all the same. The fatal stage. He might as well be a dead man walking now. If the flowers weren’t draining his life force petal by petal he’d regard them as beautiful — because of course they are, they were born from you after all.

“Chifuyu?”

He freezes. When the reply doesn’t come, calls of his name echo from down the street. He has to go. Now.

“Chifuyu? W-what happened to you? You didn’t lock the door and your stuff is all over the—ah, I’m just gonna come in, okay?”

No, he rasps. Don’t.

“(Name), no— just, just stay outside alright? I’m fine, I swear, I just—“

“A-are you okay? Shit, you look awful.”

Stay away.

“Don’t… don’t get any closer! You’ll regret i—“

His strained scream, his last-ditch effort to save you from the truth, is cut short by your audible gasp piercing the darkness like a stroke of wondrous lightning.

Oh, fuck. You’re staring straight at him.

“Wh-what…” You back up in horror, a hand hovering over your mouth. Your eyes fly towards every petal, every speck of dark red peppering the floor. A god awful tragedy — and him, the centerpiece. “What the hell is this? What is happening to you?” you swallow. “Who…”

Who is it.

“Who is it.” A handful of petals tremble in the grip of your palm. You know clear as day what they entail. “Chifuyu…”

He does not have an answer for you — not then, not now. It’s too late.

The petals crumple around your tightened fingers as the seconds drag on without a reply; the skin around your knuckles turns white. Your eyebrows furrow together, your head shaking slowly side to side. This can’t be. This isn’t true. He watches his own past self replay inside you in loops.

He’s quiet.

Orangish light from the living room spills in through the half-open door, and all he can think about is how pretty you look even when you’re afraid. You’re on your knees, looking down at him like a saint; a mirage. You shouldn’t be here with him — Kosuke probably didn’t account for your absence when writing his engagement speech. People will talk.

You shouldn’t be here with him.

“Chifuyu,” you plead, but all the anger is gone. All that’s left is a whisper. The light wavers when you lean in close, fingers clutching at his jaw, as if within it encases all the answers that you desire. (Do you think it’ll stop the flowers from coming out again? You’re adorably naive sometimes.)

“Who is it, p-please— I just,” your voice wobbles, caught on a involuntary sob that you swallow down, “I just need to know.”

He takes in a breath. Looks straight into your eyes. Frankly, it’s a dream come true, because you’re finally looking at him and him only.

“You,” he grits out.

The truth, oh so unequivocal and pious, is reluctantly snatched from him in the form of a single hoarse syllable.

“I’m in love with you.”

And how will he begin comprehending the look of utter destruction on your face?

Everything — every word, every ounce of comfort that you could possibly afford him at this moment, all of it has been forcibly snatched away with the magnitude of a hurricane ripping through a forest. Without a shred of mercy, the both of you are made to taste the single bitter fact that nothing can amount to the feeling of seeing a loved one suffering at your own bare hands.

“How could this happen.” Your voice is silent. Yet, somehow, it trembles in a way that’s so fragile that he feels like you’re the one who’s about to die. “How could this happen? It can’t be true… please tell me it isn’t true.”

“It’s you, (Name). In my entire life, I have only ever loved y—”

“Stop, please, don’t say that,” you beg, hands flying up to shield your face, as if it would protect you from the truth. “Please…”

“I told you not to come in.” He feels familiar tears gnawing at the lining of his eyeballs. “I fucking told you.”

A remark, a pitiful look on his deathly pale face saying I told you so — that is all it takes to break the camel’s back. A loud, painful wail rips through your chest, and more follow it; you are crumbling, breaking down before him and he is sitting slumped, deflated, like a ghost watching his lover cry over his own grave. He hates seeing you cry. Always has.

“I’m sorry, they’re making a big mess aren’t they?” he jokes hoarsely, his finger pinching a stray petal. His voice is pained and he’s sure you can tell, because every two words he’s fighting the urge to break out in coughs and splutters. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean them up later.”

“Now,” you hiccup, silvery tracks running down your cheeks, your body tense with agony coursing through every vein. “Now is not a fucking time to joke around!”

You’re scrambling to close the distance between the both of you in a second, crawling towards him to grasp at his hand, squeezing so tight as if any looser and he’d disappear like seafoam right in front of your eyes. You’re too close — he can smell the perfume that Kosuke gifted you. It dances in his nostrils, along with the sweet scent of the flowers, taunting him, daring him to go further than your relationship would allow.

“Listen to me,” you grit. “There has to be some way— ”

“There is no way to save me. You should know this already.” The longer he pierces your resolve with his resigned, dilapidated eyes, the more the feeling of sheer panic seems to well up in you.

“No! Listen to me,” you whimper, your grip on him beginning to falter. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ll get my stuff out of here tonight.”

What?

His heart sinks to the floor.

“You can’t be serious.”

What are you trying to do? What are you trying to accomplish by doing this? You can’t… you wouldn’t just abandon him, right?

“T-The disease gets worse the longer you’re near the person, right? So I’ll leave. You have to let me, Chifuyu. You can’t just sit here and let it happen.”

There is not a shred of hesitation in your words. Well done, he almost wants to praise you. You’ve always been quick on the uptake. Sensitive, but rational to a fault. You both know he’s running out of time — it’s amazing how he managed to hold out so long without slipping up. What you’re suggesting now is practical, based on sound logic. The faster you get away, the longer he spends without you, and by default the greater his chances of losing feelings. Of survival.

That is, if love were such a simple beast to tame — but it’s not, and it’s certainly not what Chifuyu wants.

You try to pull away, but he catches your wrist. “It’s no use,” he starts to plead, feeling his heartbeat kicking into overdrive. It feels like he’s losing you all over again. “It’s no use, (Name).”

You pry your fingers from his, one by one. He feels his strength slipping — whether it’s from the shock or pent-up exhaustion, he’s not sure.

“You… you just need time. Time away from me. I’m going to do everything I can to save you, okay? I’ll leave and I won’t come back. Please, please Chifuyu, I need you to stay alive. You can’t— you can’t die like this, god, you can’t—”

No.

“You can’t leave me, (Name), not like this.”

“What the hell are you saying? I’m the one who’s going to kill you.” You look at him in horror, as if this disease has turned him into some unrecognisable creature. As if, inexplicably, a theft took place in his bedroom: his body has been robbed, stolen, and cruelly replaced by a hideous monster. And in that monster’s warped mind a quiet fury starts to grow.

What did time ever mean to you? His childhood, his memories, his bare flesh extended to you in the form of vulnerability; and now, his life. Everything he has, he has given to you. For the first time he thinks, maybe you’d planned to suck him dry from the start.

Because nevermind that he has just let loose years’ worth of feelings, just like that. Just as simple as a drop of a hat. All because you asked, and he gives so easily. Oh, I’m going to die, and it’s because of you — bullshit.

His love means nothing to you.

Chifuyu shakes his head, mind dripping with denial, and continues pleading, starting to sound like a broken record. “You can’t. You can’t. You’re not going to leave me like this.”

“I have to!” you shout, shoving his weak body away. “I have to. I’m so sorry,” you sob. It stings, the fact that you’re pushing him away, but above all it stings that the product of his love is being trampled on, treated with disgust and contempt by you. You.

“Oh god, this is all my fault,” you whisper, scanning his fragile body, your eyes glistening like liquefied glass. You run your fingers over his gaunt jaw, his ghostly skin, his eyelids hovering over bloodshot eyeballs. “How long have you been hiding this? You— this— this is all my fault. I should have noticed.”

“It’s not, it’s not,” he protests softly. His fingers are grasping at air now, until they find you, find your shoulders and tug you close. “It’s never your fault. Why can’t you see? Going away… won’t solve anything.”

Blurry vision melds orange with darkness, distorting your figure, your crying face, into that of an illusion. Except you’re not, except you’re here now — letting him hold you for what feels like the last time.

The thought of never seeing you again fills him with unspeakable dread.

It’s not supposed to be like this, he thinks, as your sobs continue. When he pictured confessing to you in his head, in the middle of the night when he was still so young and his love was still blossoming like an unripe fruit, you were always so happy to receive his feelings.

Again, the sickly feeling rises in his gut.

Kosuke was never supposed to come along. Up until a few months ago, Chifuyu’s world had only consisted of himself and you, the irreplaceable piece. Nobody was ever meant to come between him and his perfect life. He hadn’t anticipated this. Hadn’t factored in any anomalies. Hadn’t wanted this.

At curtain call, he’ll be the only one left suffering.

His anguish, regret, unbridled hatred for the cruelty of this fate — he feels it all rushing to the surface, breaching the cold resignation that he’d long ago poured over the bitter truth. Overtaking even him as it surges like water spilling into a tank, rising above his head with water flooding his lungs.

He takes in a deep breath—

“Fuck. You’d— you’d forgive me if I did something stupid, right?”

Not even death will be able to bury his feelings for you.

“Wha—”

“Please. Just one last thing before you go.”

“O-Of course I would. You know I wou—”

His lips are on yours. He’s kissing you.

It takes a few seconds to register — the sweetness and suppleness of your mouth, the little gasp that you let out, the surrealness of finally, finally getting some relief from the pain —

The hands pushing against his chest, so desperate yet so powerless.

“This is… this is wrong! I have a b-boyfriend and—“

Chifuyu hushes you, threading his fingers through your hair and kissing your cheek. “No. You don’t love him, I know you don’t.”

“W-what are you talking about? Please snap out of it! This isn’t like yo—”

“No. You will never love someone like him. Because he’s only with you to spite me, don’t you see?”

“I don’t—“

“Yes, you don’t love him.”

He pins you to the floor, muttering manic nonsense into your neck. Too close, too painful, too unlike the him merely a week ago — the him who’d so gently caressed your head in a soft embrace. Where is this strength coming from? Where is this cruelty coming from? He’s not sure himself. All he knows is that you’re warm, soft, and so pliable in his arms.

“Chifuyu… stop. Please. I know it’s all my fault. You don’t have to do this… please.”

Again. You’re being cold to him again. His gut constricts, eyes narrowing, feeling anger and indignance dig at his skin.

“Don’t you trust me?” he says, nostrils flaring. “I’ve known you since we were twelve. There’s not a person in this world who knows you better than I do. That’s why—”

You give a cry as he starts to pry away your clothing, large hands reaching between your thighs to probe at your panty-clad slit. He strips you of that hideous red dress that Kosuke picked out for you, undoing its flimsy zipper and throwing it to the side to accompany the wilting flowers. Panicked noises seep out of you, Chifuyu sealing your lips in a slobbery kiss to stifle your cries. He can taste sweetness and bitterness. Is it the flowers? He pulls away, a reassuring smile on his face, but it wavers at the edges when you respond with a whimper.

“I want you to let me show you, okay? Just how much I love you. Just how much you love me back. You’ll see.”

You go pale at his words, shaky breaths wracking your chest as he mouths at your tits. Lacy. Red. Your bra joins the pile of torn clothing, leaving him to nip at your hardening buds with fervor. Some kind of cute, pathetic plea makes its way through your lips, but it all becomes white noise to him, as if none of your words were making it through.

“I’ve known for such a long time, y’know. That I was going to die.” You pause momentarily in your struggle, as if something struck you about the finality in his tone. “No matter what you do, or how far you go, I will still love you.”

Chifuyu reaches down to rub at your pussy, dismayed at the lack of dampness. Tears well up in your eyes and form a dark trail of mascara down your cheeks as they fall. He knows you to be soft-hearted, naive. You probably blame yourself for how your best friend has become like this. So precious.

“Sorry… ‘m sorry, Chifuyu,” you sniffle, “It’s all… m-my fault.”

“Please… please don’t cry. This is not revenge,” he rasps, rubbing the head of his cock at your pussy lips, forcing a choked gasp out of you. Saliva creeps out from where he forces your jaw open with his fingers. You’re looking at him with so much fear and sadness that it makes his heart ache. It’s okay. It’ll be over soon.

“Think of it as me… trying to win you over.”

He starts with the tip. Pushing it in and out, slowly, trying to get you accustomed to the feeling of him. Chifuyu’s free hand holds your thigh down to keep your struggle to a minimum, his other hand giving your tongue one final press, coating it in slick, before it leaves to find your clit. Rubbing slow and cautious circles, he preens when you whimper in pleasure.

“It feels good, right? Don’t struggle. Don’t make this difficult.” He sucks a red mark into your shoulder. When he feels a moistness leak from between your legs, his eyes brighten before he kisses you again. You give a keening cry, hands grabbing onto his hip as his cock infiltrates deeper into your walls. Are you trying to push him away, or encouraging him to go faster? It feels like the latter when you’re squeezing him like a vice, melting away the pain sizzling like hot fire in his throat.

Your back arches when his cock rubs against a particularly soft spot within your cunt, his tongue licking at moistness coming from your eyes. You shake your head and flinch when he caresses your hair.

“Ko… Kosuke, help me, please…” Your head tilts to the side, gaze fastened onto the corridor, and you whimper out that bastard’s name between gasping cries.

Chifuyu’s smile drops.

“STOP SAYING HIS NAME!”

His palm strikes the air next to you, sending electricity jolting through your body. You yelp, feeling his shaft burrow deeper, harder, into your insides. This time, he is unforgiving. Chifuyu’s hot, erratic breath touches your collarbone as he leans in, challenging you with a scornful gleam in his eyes.

“Do you get it? How much do I have to drill it into that empty skull of yours? I will keep loving you until the day I fucking die. I don’t give a damn about what you or that shithead thinks.”

You start shivering at that, your folds quivering around his hardened length, fragments of his name falling from your lips amidst pleas for him to stop.

You’re scared, he realises, shuddering to a halt.

Chifuyu’s fingers find your jaw, tilt your head up so he can meet your eyes. There is just as much pain reflected in your irises as there is reflected in his. His bottom lip trembles; he drops his face to your neck, letting out a sob before apologies begin to spill from his mouth. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I can’t stop.”

He doesn’t wait for your reply — each slap of skin on skin bounces off the walls, both of your moans escalating in tandem. His nose stings with the scent of flowers drenched in depravity. You feel good, of course you do, you can’t help it, can you?— the tip rubs salaciously against your cervix, taking great care to fill you to the brim, coaxing you closer and closer to insanity as his fingers circle your clit with due dilligence.

“I love you, okay? It’s been you all along,” he breathes between moans, hips gyrating against yours like a bull in heat. “Every goddamn day since you made me cough these fucking flowers, I’ve— just been falling—more and more in love with you.”

He thinks back to the dream — the recurring one that made his insides churn with desire — of your figure under him, shivering and helpless, begging him to take you in the sweetest way it made his heart burst.

The words that tumbled from your perfect lips — you, I’ve only ever wanted you — he finds himself echoing them, clinging onto them like a prayer, whispering them like a benediction as he impales you over his cock. Your whines increase in volume, both of your bodies coated in a layer of filth and sweat. It’s working, he quivers in victory. You’ve stopped resisting him.

It’s too good.

“This— this! is what you do to me,” he cries, forcing his face into your neck, gasping out cries and shuddery breaths. More petals begin hurtling from his lips, each one bloody — each one cascading along your skin like snowflakes melting. “This is all your fault, fuck, fuck. I love you.”

“Chi…fuyu,” you reciprocate, hips rising to meet his thrusts, spurring him on with just a call of his name. He wants you to look at him, to stay with him and to never mention Kosuke ever again.

“What’s so good about him, anyway?” he murmurs, biting back a hiss. He probably sounds pathetic, on the verge of tears. He is. “I’ll—fuck—treat you way better. I can please you better. Hey, I want you to do something for me.” He taps your cheek, trying to rouse your attention, but you barely respond and your head lolls and you shudder and tear up when he licks up a stripe up your neck, growling.

“When he fucks you, pushes into that warm cunt just like this… I want you to think of me. Think of my cock pressing right up against your soft, warm pussy. Think about how you’re moaning like my own cockslut. Mine.”

You look like you want to shout at him — like you want to give a reply, to scream, to comfort him and to shove him away, but all that tumbles from your mouth is a jarring mess of frantic pleas and squeals and your eyes roll to the back of your head when his body caves over yours, his hips giving a final thrust as your insides overflow with his seed without warning, the sheer momentum pushing you over the edge and tumbling into the shock of a tearful orgasm.

He’s spent, exhausted, tired. So goddamn tired and his heart hurts like it’s being split open.

His thrusts begin losing their forcefulness, his cum sloshing heavily in your full womb, but his breathing grows heavier and raspier as if his strength were slowly draining away. You’re whimpering, pawing at his chest, half-sobs rippling through your body.

“Chifuyu…”

“You’re mine,” he whispers in your ear. Slowly, his movements grow sluggish, and it’s not long until he collapses, pulling out of you with a gritty sigh. The ringing in the back of your head gains volume as he lies down next to you, an arm caging your numb body against his. You feel a wetness accumulate between your thighs; you feel cold even though he’s still living and breathing beside you.

“Love you,” his voice grates, one last time, before his eyes droop and close and his consciousness gives way. You don’t recognise Chifuyu’s voice anymore; he’s changed beyond recognition, fallen into a hell of his own making, and deep down— deep down you feel like it’s your fault.

You don’t budge. You lie obediently in his arms.

#i am sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes:”c #am running a high fever rn ;o; feel like mush #tw noncon #tw infidelity #matsuno chifuyu x reader #chifuyu smut #yandere tokyo revengers #soft yandere #chiyu; dark #🐝; sweet syrup #tw yandere #hanahaki au

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thera-daydreams · 3 years

Text

KABILANG BUHAY

× A TRESE ONESHOT ×

[Crispin x Ghost!Reader]

📝 Summary: Your demigod husband remembers you—everything about you—and how much he absolutely loved you. He remembers everything, including the memory that hurt the most.

📌 Warning: Contains fluff, angst, character death, and mentions of violence (because an angry Crispin being the son of a wargod is bound to shed some blood somewhere). Masakit po talaga 'tong songfic na 'to, trust me. If you don't want to get hurt, scroll awaaaay. Pero if you want maximum 1000% ultra heavy pain, then listen to the song below on repeat while reading, too.

Song: Kabilang Buhay by Bandang Lapis

(word count: 5,642)

"Masasayang mga araw na kasama kita."

Warm. Crispin always remembered you to be so warm—every single part of you. The heat of your skin against his whenever he held you, that whimsical sparkle in your eyes whenever you saw the little joys in life, that sprightly curve of your lips whenever you two teased each other, and the radiance he saw from you whenever you were around the people you loved.

In his eyes, there was always a halo around your head or a beam of light following you around. Perhaps he was biased; perhaps he saw you through rose-tinted glasses, but it didn't matter to him. To the demigod, you were everything he ever wanted.

You were the one.

You were also one of the sweetest people he'd ever met. Every morning without a fail, there would always be a hot cup of kape and a plate of pandesal on the table—not only for him, but for everyone else in your little family, too. Alexandra, Hank, and of course, his younger brother Basilio. Even before you became his girlfriend, you'd treated them as your own loved ones.

That was the day he knew you were truly the one for him. The one who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The one he wanted to build a home with. The woman he wanted to marry and have children with, if you were okay with it (when that conversation came, you said you would be happy and honored to be his wife).

Crispin said it was the other way around. It was he who was fortunate and honored to be your husband. You'd laughed in response, kissing his cheek. There were no fancy rings or a formal, elaborate proposal involved, but that day—he remembered clearly that you had that conversation on a chilly December 1st, 9:24PM, right before you two went to bed—was an unspoken promise.

You two would be inseparable and together 'til death do you part.

Going back to that coffee and bread, he always wondered how you managed to keep it so fresh (you said it was a secret, but later on you spilled the beans to him after him pestering you). Even if he woke up at noon because of missions with his bossing and his brother, palaging mainit ang kape at pandesal. You must have had some sort of superpower you weren't telling him (you rolled your eyes, telling him that superpower came in the form of a microwave).

"Paglalambing at kulit mo na hindi nakakasawa."

He was by no means clingy or touch-starved, but whenever he was around you, he had the need to at least hold you in any way. Sometimes, it was the usual PDA (Basilio and Maliksi teased him about it, but he didn't care if it meant having some sort of contact with you; Alexandra just let it be because she knew how much you two loved each other). In public, you guys toned it down—settling with holding hands or you just linking your arm through his. If he was driving the car, his hand would either be innocently resting on your thigh or your hand which was on your lap. If you were the one driving the car, then it would be your hand on his thigh or his hand. He loved to draw circles on your skin whenever he was daydreaming or starting to doze off, too.

You as a couple often expressed your love for each other in different ways, and not just by saying it out loud. One thing Crispin adored the most about your relationship was the way you voicelessly said "I love you". If it wasn't clear enough that acts of service was one of your love languages, then he could understand that you loved him back through three taps.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

At first, he had no clue what it meant. You just kept doing it whenever you were near him, on whatever body part you could touch. If he was driving? Tap, tap, tap on his thigh. If he was the one cooking? You'd hug him from behind and then one of your fingers would go tap, tap, tap on his waist. If you were eating together? You'd take his palm then just... tap, tap, tap while chewing on whatever food it was you had in your mouth.

He recalled that afternoon you guys were eating at a simple Japanese place. While you slurped up some of the wheat noodles and the savory soup, you were excitedly doing a little happy dance as you ate—the one you did whenever you ate something you found yummy. Frankly, Crispin found it endearing. He, too, was guzzling down some of the ramen when you reached out for his hand then laid it on the table palm up.

With a mischievous smile and your puffed up cheeks looking like a chipmunk from the noodles you'd gobbled up, you gently tapped his palm with your index finger, that same glint in your eye whenever you did that gesture.

"... Anong ginagawa mo, mahal?" Crispin chuckled, a brow raised. He found it cute but he had no idea what it was supposed to stand for.

"Wala lang," you mysteriously answered in a muffled voice, swallowing.

"You know, you shouldn't talk when your mouth is full," he pointed out, amused. You snorted, gulping.

"Not my fault you asked a question, Crispin," you retorted, shoving in another bite of noodley goodness with your chopsticks. You did a mini-wiggle when the umami flavor exploded on your tongue (the ramen was bussin', bestie). Ratatouille would be impressed!

"But seriously, what does the tap stand for?" your boyfriend wondered. You did it again. Tap, tap, tap.

"Isn't it obvious?" you smiled. He then sweat-dropped.

"Wait, keep smiling," Crispin leaned over the table, removing a tiny bit of the dahon sibuyas stuck on one of your front teeth with his nail. He then popped that finger into his mouth, making you blink at the action.

"Ay, may naiwan pala. Hehehehehe." With how long you two have been dating, you were no longer embarrassed if you did get anything stuck in your teeth and he had to get it out (it's happened in more occasions than you could count). You did the same to him (and trust me, you were way past the stage of getting grossed out from the gross habits couples did). At least you two were a hundred percent comfortable and open to one another, right? Sanaol.

Crispin nodded, going back to eating his noodles, "Okay, back to the topic. What does this—" He tapped your palm the same way you did. "—even mean?"

Your grin just grew wider then you whispered into his ear, "I love you."

"... I love you, too," he answered automatically, still not understanding. "But what do the taps mean? You keep doing it and—"

You did it again on his hand.

"I." Tap.

"Love." Tap.

"You." Tap.

At long last, that look of realization came upon his features, "... Aaaaaaaaah."

You chuckled, all brightness and merriness from your revelation to the man you loved. "Gets mo na, mahal?"

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Oo, mahal. Hehe."

"... Can we order another bowl of ramen? Please?" With those puppy-dog eyes? Crispin could never resist. He'd rip the world apart for you and build it back up from scratch if you wanted him to.

That was how deep his love was for you. Kapag nagmamahal ang isang diyos, walang imposible... 'di ba?

He was already raising a hand to call for a waiter, "Sure. Basta maubos mo."

"... And if half lang maubos ko?"

He sighed, "... Edi ako kakain sa anong maiiwan." What was the saying whenever you found your soulmate? Oh, yes.

True love is getting fat together.

Maybe it was true for both of you.

When you two exited the ramen place, you patted your bloated tummy. "Haaaay, busog na busog si food baby," you sighed in happiness, adjusting the the top of your high-waisted skirt to loosen it up for more space. You elbowed him slightly, wiggling your eyebrows at him and mimicking Kylie Jenner, "Soooo, I'm thirty-four weeks today."

"'Luh, ang drama mo," Crispin snickered, poking your rounded side playfully and making you pout. "Nagdadalang tao ka pala, ha. Ako ang tatay pero hindi mo sinabi sa akin na buntis ka." He wouldn't lie, but thoughts of you being pregnant with a child warmed his entire being. Mini-yous and mini-hims running around.

What a dream.

"Nagdadalang tae lang po, manong," you stuck your tongue out at him, then stopped. He stopped walking, too, looking at you questioningly.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Mahal?" you paused. Gulugulugulugulu. Oh no. Mayday, mayday!

"Did you forget something at the restaurant?" he asked. You shook your head in response, telling him there was an emergency.

"... Mahal, natatae ako."

"Like, now?" You nodded at him with wide, doe-like irises. His eyes crinkled, finding the situation hilarious. "Really? Oh shit. Literally. Is this because we were talking about poop?"

Crispin could only cackle as you rummaged through your bag for some wet wipes (and the situation led to you two running around the mall like psychos looking for the nearest restroom—grabe ang cold sweat mo, sis; it was that type of pooping session).

As he waited outside the women's comfort room, he found himself smiling like a weirdo from your date today. Nagdadalang tae o nagdadalang tao, he wouldn't love you any other way.

"Punong-puno ng ligaya ang ating pagsasama."

He found himself unconsciously doing the tapping to you, as well. Tap. Tap. Tap. He only now realized how many times you've been saying "I love you" everyday. Usually, you'd only verbally say it out loud three times: in the morning waking up, whenever he left for a mission, or the times you went to sleep together (because of the nature of his work, it was uncommon, but if he was at home during the night, he'd make sure to say it to you). But now that he knew what the taps meant, he counted them for one week from Monday to Sunday.

You were sitting on the couch, on your stomach and sprawled vertically over his lap. He was watching a basketball game on television while you were on your phone, scrolling through Facebook. It was all quiet until he tapped his finger thrice on your calf. You beamed, rolling over to face him then gently tapping his cheek three times—not with your fingers, but with your hands, smooshing his cheeks then pecking his lips.

"Fwifee-hweif," he said. You tilted your head at him, letting go of his cheeks.

"What was that?" you curiously inquired.

"Fifty-eight," Crispin gave you his signature flirty grin. "You tapped me one hundred seventy-four times today. And one hundred seventy-four divided by three—because I love you has three syllables—is equal to fifty-eight." His affectionate gaze to you softened. "Mahal, you've told me I love you fifty-eight times today."

You just hugged him and hid your face in his neck, "I love you, too, manooooong."

"... Wanna watch a K-drama tonight?" he said, his voice rumbling through his chest as you laid your head on it.

"Mmhmm."

You guys ended up binging Scarlet Heart Ryeo and bawling your eyes out (Crispin cried louder than you, actually, and the box of tissues was passed back n' forth between you two).

"Punyeta, walang Season Two?" Crispin cursed, blowing his nose.

You hiccupped, shaking your head and scrolling through the categories, "W-Wala e-eh, m-mahal."

"Seryoso ka ba?" he gaped, wiping his tears after wiping yours. "That's how it ends?"

You nodded, sniffling, "Uh-huh."

The next morning, when all of you gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Alexandra and the others could only stare, nagtataka kung bakit namamaga ang mga mata niyo (yeah, they were swollen as hell).

"... Anyare sa inyo?" Alexandra quizzed. Hank, while pouring everyone some juice, had a worried look on his face, too.

"Nag-away ba kayong dalawa, Kuya?" Basilio questioned. You both shook your head simultaneously.

"Hindi," Crispin shortly answered, exhausted from crying with you all night.

"Nanood lang kami ng K-drama," you supplied, as worn out as your boyfriend was.

"Aaaaaaah."

"Na parang wala nang sisira ng lahat."

The date always held some significance to him, not only because it meant only a few days before Christmas but also because it was the day you promised to one another that you'd be endgame.

December 1st.

It would repeat in his head over and over again until the day he died.

The two of you were lying in bed, the cold night air entering through the open windows. You were leaning on his chest in-between his lap, reading The Count of Monte Cristo. He noticed that your expression often shifted between being giddy to being angry or smug at what was happening to the main character.

"... Mahal?"

"Yeah?" you responded, not taking your eyes off the novel. You flipped another page.

"What kind of ring do you want? Para alam ko kung magkano ang iiponin ko?" he quietly asked, his thumb caressing your temple. Normally, men wanted this to be a surprise or didn't talk about this but he only wanted you to have something you'd cherish for the rest of your life. You tilted your head back to look up at him. "Do you want those with the big gems or the smaller and simpler ones?"

You gazed back at your novel, then sat up and closed it, turning to look at him. "Crispin." You took his hands in your own (he tapped it thrice, making a teeny smile creep up your lips). "Hindi ko kailangan ng singsing."

His eyes grew wide, "... Are you sure? You don't want to be formally married?"

You frantically shook your head, "Nooooooo, noooo! That's not what I meant, dummy. I just wanted to tell you that I don't need an expensive ring to be yours." You kissed him. "And to be your wife."

"Pero—"

"Mahal, if we ever do have kids, mahal ang gatas, diaper, at tuition," you childishly told him. "Kung magpapakasal tayo, I don't need a huge proposal or a big wedding. Let's put the funds away for a house and for the future, 'mkay?"

"... But you won't have a ring," he sulked.

Getting an idea, you hopped off the bed and open your cabinet, finding a piece of durable string on one of your shirts. With a strong tug, it came off. You walked back towards your boyfriend, flopping back down then looping it on your left ring finger. You held your hand up to him, "There. I have a ring now, see?"

Crispin had never ever loved anyone as much as he did right now. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his head, though. "... I feel like I've seen this in a movie before, mahal."

"Duuuuh. I got the idea from the Count of Monte Cristo. Mercedes promises herself to Dantes with a string ring! Sorry nalang if copyright infringement ang ginawa ko, hihi." You showed him the book you were reading, the smile not disappearing from your face. Feeling ecstatic, he kissed you passionately right on the spot.

"Ipapangako mo sa akin na magsasama tayo nang walang hanggan?" Crispin whispered against your lips. "Magpakailanman?"

You kissed him, rolling your eyes, "Oo na, Crispin. Corny mo talaga, manong. Such a hopeless romantic, like me!" Another kiss. "I'll stay with you forever and ever and eveeeeeer and grow old with you. We'll get that rest house in the mountains, travel the world together, win the lotto, and do anything we want!" you declared determinedly.

"Promise? Talaga?"

You grinned, wriggling your little finger, "Pinky promise."

He linked his pinky with yours, "Okay. Pinky promise, wifey."

"Okaaaaay, hubby," you quipped, settling down and snuggling into him.

9:24PM, he saw the digital clock display before he pulled the covers over you both, keeping you warm and safe in his arms.

"Bakit pa dumating ang oras na ito?"

"Mahaaaaal, pauwi na ako. Huwag kang mag-alala," you quietly told Crispin over the phone. He was on another investigation, but while their bossing was speaking to Captain Guerrero and Lieutenant Tapia about the case, he used the spare time he had to check up on you.

You had been buying groceries, but knowing you, Crispin had a feeling you had gone to do some other errands.

"Pauwi ka na? Meaning, you're driving home?" He sighed, "And why are you whispering?"

"... Ehehehe," you nervously giggled.

"Anong ehehehehe?" the demigod asked you, suspicious. "Mahal, saan ka na ba talaga?"

"Nasa banko pa ako. Oopsies," you admitted shamelessly. "But I just finished paying the bills. I'm actually walking away from the counter now and—"

You suddenly stopped talking. For a second, the son of the wargod thought that the signal had gone bad.

"Mahal?"

Your voice had gone distant, but it seemed like it was talking to someone else. He strained to hear what you were saying.

"Hey, hey... shhhh, little one, huwag kang umiyak," he heard you say. Your voice seemed so far away. You seemed like you were trying to shush a person. A kid.

"I want my mom!" a child wailed.

"... Langga, come here. At huwag kang masyadong maingay." If it weren't for his heritage as a god, he would have barely been able to hear what you said.

Were you comforting a kid? Awww. He was about to just end the call then text you instead when another much louder and crueler voice could be heard over the phone. No, there wasn't only one voice. There were more.

"Mamatay kayong lahat! Balang araw, hindi na mga tao ang mamumuno sa mundong ito!"

Then there was a sound that was unmistakably a gunshot.

"Nabalitaan ko na wala ka na."

Bang!

His blood went cold. Almost every day he handled firearms in his line of work, so of course he knew what it sounded like. The shrieks and terrified shouts came after the gunshots.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The last thing he heard were more gunshots, then the call ending.

He had never sprinted to Alexandra so fast before, frantically begging her to let him use the Dragon's Gate to teleport to wherever you were, even if it made him physically sick and nauseous.

Crispin didn't give a damn what happened to him, as long as nothing happened to you.

"Hindi ba't sabi mo hindi mo ko iiwan?"

It all happened so fast. One moment he was silently praying to Bathala for your safety while looking for you in the chaos. The next? He was scouring through the overwhelmed emergency room of the nearest hospital, where it was flooded with victims from the mall shooting.

It was a mess, with bleeding patients on the floor as nurses tried to assist. Others were seated on monobloc chairs that had been quickly put on the corridors. There was an overwhelming number of patients taken to the hospital either through ambulances or police cars themselves. It already began to stink of death, and Crispin hated it. His bloodlust as a wargod was creeping up his veins from the stench and his inner fury, but he held it in. He needed to find you first.

Behind him, Alexandra and Basilio were searching for you, too. When he told them what happened, they didn't hesitate to help and be transported to the mall as quick as possible. Captain Guerrero had already dispatched units after hearing what occurred (there was also an alarm that had blared in the station—a bank employee must have pressed an emergency button or something).

Surprisingly, in the midst of the havoc happening inside the hospital, he found himself walking towards the Trauma Bay of the hospital like a magnet. He had no idea where he was going, but he just kept going, and he stopped by a less crowded hallway. If he just went straight forward, he would be entering an operating room.

"Excuse me, coming through! Make some way!" It was a doctor who yelled from behind him. He turned around.

"Hindi papabayaan na ako'y mag-isa."

And as if time went by slower, he found you on a stretcher, being wheeled through the corridor as a nurse was on the bed with you, performing CPR. He saw the amount of blood gushing out of the bullet wounds on your body; one on your back, another on your stomach, and a third on your thigh.

Crispin couldn't help but run after them, asking one of the health professionals what was happening to you, "Nurse! Nurse, is she going to be okay!?"

"Are you her family?" they quickly interrogated. Alexandra and Basilio rounded the corner right as the nurse asked him that. Both held their breaths when they saw the tormenting state you were in, unconscious and on the brink of death.

The eldest demigod frenziedly nodded, "Yes, yes! I'm family!" He glanced at your bleeding form, and his heart clenched seeing the string ring on your finger, a bit of blood splattered over it. "I'm... I'm her husband! Asawa ko siya!"

You weren't formally or legally married yet, but to his eyes (and many of the others who knew you both), you were practically husband and wife.

"Good," the nurse said as they rushed you into the O.R., stopping Crispin from entering any further. "Sir, we need you to tell us your wife's name and her health details, please. She has to be operated on as soon as possible. We need her age, blood type, her comorbidities or allergies, if any..."

Crispin knew them all. He'd memorized them. And he told the nurses everything they needed for the operation. As long as it saved you, he'd say anything. Do anything.

"Hindi ba't sabi mo sabay tayong tatanda?"

It was a grueling operation, he could tell. Crispin had been pacing continuously in the waiting room, not even daring to sit from how anxious he was about you. Hank had come instantly to the hospital after hearing, and now there were three seated and extremely worried people watching him panic outside the operating room.

"God, please let her be okay," he continued to mumble to himself, fiddling with his fingers. "Please, please, please..."

"Kuya, umupo ka muna," Basilio tried to convince his brother.

"Oo nga," Hank frowned.

"You've been standing for five hours," Alexandra gave him a saddened look. "You should rest."

The older demigod shook his head, "I can't, bossing. Hindi pwede. Not until I know that she's okay."

As if on cue, the head surgeon came out of the operating room. Crispin nearly jolted and would have grabbed the man's collar had it not been for Alex and his brother holding him back, calming him down. No one could tell what he was about to say until he removed his surgical mask.

The four occupants waited for his response, antsy. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"Doc? Is she okay? Is she gonna be alright?" Crispin asked, troubled out of his mind. Alex's grip on his arm tightened, and so did Basilio's hold on his shoulder. "Doc, please say somethi—"

"... I'm sorry," the surgeon shook his head, a somber look on his face.

It was like the universe stopped for the demigod. The two people holding him were the only ones to support him when his knees buckled.

"We did everything we could. She lost too much blood, and the bullets hit too many vital organs," the doctor explained forlornly. "We performed CPR and a cardiac massage on her for thirty minutes, but she did not make it through the rest of the operation."

The words just echoed emptily through Crispin's ears.

"Bakit bigla ka na lang nandiyan sa kabilang buhay?"

When he entered the morgue alone, he didn't know why but he was expecting you to be sitting up and smiling, almost hearing your teasing voice telling him it was all a cruel prank. At first, that was what he saw. He saw the love of his life, soft skin flushed and curled up lips filled with so much love directed at him. He saw you radiant—glowing; that familiar twinkle in your magnificent eyes. He reached out to hold your left hand, awaiting its warmth.

Awaiting the three taps.

The taps that would tell him "I love you" and "I'm okay".

Crispin even waited a minute. Maybe you were still there, hanging on. Maybe... just maybe... you were fighting.

"Mahal?" he croaked out, squeezing your hand.

"Paano na ang lahat? Paano na ako, tayo?"

Those three taps never came. One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes.

Only then did he really see you. The illusion all came crashing down.

Now your skin was so cold. So lifeless. So... opposite from what you were when you were alive. You were pale. Your lips were tinted blue. You were so still. So deathly still. Not one movement.

It freaked him out.

He couldn't believe it was you on that metal table—it didn't look like you. Where was the halo he always saw around your head? Where was that beam of light following you around?

His rose-tinted glasses suddenly became grey and dull. Taking your left hand, Crispin felt his heart shatter even more when his hand brushed the string ring on your finger. They had cleaned you up and made sure there was no blood left on your body, but nothing could remove those tiny, miniscule splatters that stained the string.

Remnants of what happened today.

You never did remove it. Even when showering or swimming or washing the dishes, you'd joked to him.

"See? 'Di ko nga kailangan ng singsing. Mas maganda pa nga 'to, eh. I can wear it all the time! Matibay pa!"

Crispin could nearly hear you, but it was all just a memory in his mind. God, he didn't want to forget your voice. Your laughter. Your cries. You whispering to him how much you loved him. He couldn't. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did.

Both of you didn't even get to say "I love you" one last time. But reality was harsh, and this wasn't a movie where the leading characters could have a lengthy monologue confessing to each other as the dramatic scene was drawn out from seconds into minutes.

There were no camera angles, no music, no time left, and no happy endings. Everything was raw. Real.

"Hindi ba't sinabi mo sa akin na sabay tayong mangangarap?"

"Mahal," his voice trembled as he held your icy hand to his lips, kissing it. "Huwag mo akong iwan. What about us? Our dreams? Andami pa nating pangarap, 'di ba? Mga gustong gawin?"

No response.

"Tatatanda pa tayo, 'di ba? Bibili pa tayo ng bahay na nasa bundok... then we'll travel the world together, right? We've... We've saved up half of the funds! You... You can't leave now..."

Silence.

Crispin felt tears dripping down his face. He hadn't noticed he was crying. Only with you could he be a sniveling mess—around the others, he always had to be the kuya. The responsible one. The oldest one. The loyal bodyguard.

With you? He could be anything and you would never judge him.

Even when you were dead, he was still a sniveling mess in your arms.

"Sabi mo gusto mong manalo sa lotto," he choked out, cupping your cheeks. It was so strange to him; how colorless they were compared to how... spirited you were in life. "I'll do that... I'll make that happen. Just please... please come back to me. Gagawin ko ang lahat... bumalik ka sa akin, mahal. Mahal..."

Crispin told himself nothing was impossible when a god loved someone, yet now all this god could do was be paralyzed by his despair.

"Bakit bigla kang lumisan nang hindi man lang nagpaalam?"

They say there are five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. People don't talk enough about how they weren't actually stages. They were just five emotions and there was no particular order they came in. They would come and go, and that was how dealing with loss really was.

Today, as he was cradling his departed soulmate and the only woman he knew he'd ever love this much—reduced to tears while nursing his broken heart—he was feeling denial, bargaining, and depression all at once.

Only then did he allow himself to feel anger—just pure, unadulterated fury—when Alexandra let him and his brother unleash their bloodlust to the guilty aswang clan that had been the culprits of the mall shooting. The bank robbery.

He had his vengeance.

The son of the wargod nearly became a god of war that night, coming home soaked in the same crimson that dripped off his guns. He swore to himself he'd rip the world apart for you and build it back from scratch. Thus, Crispin was merciless to those who murdered you and all those other innocent humans.

He took his time watching the life dissipate out of their eyes, especially since he didn't see yours before you died. They were already closed when he got to the hospital too late.

Denial, anger, bargaining, and depression. He'd felt all that as time passed, on and off.

Acceptance? That last stage? That last emotion? Crispin never did really get to that point. Perhaps he would. Perhaps he wouldn't. Only more time would tell.

"Isang malamig na hangin ang yumakap sa akin."

The demigod sat under the tree that shaded your gravestone, a bouquet of white and red roses beside him while he relaxed on the grass. It was a classic symbol of true and everlasting love. That was the vow you'd made to one another, right?

December 1st.

It had been one year since your death. Wasn't it funny how the fates worked? Two years ago, on this very day, you two promised each other that you'd be together forever. He said that this day would be memorable to him until the day he died because technically, it was your engagement slash informal wedding anniversary.

Then one year ago, you had been shot trying to protect a child from those armed aswang. You saved the kid, alright. Crispin even made sure that the little boy, one of the lucky survivors of the shooting, wouldn't be targeted by the aswang. He ensured your sacrifice wouldn't be in vain. But what was supposed to be a marriage anniversary turned into your death anniversary.

December 1st.

The day would indeed be eternally ingrained into his mind.

But now, he could only dwell on nostalgia as he crouched and cleaned your gravestone, polishing it after removing all the grass and dirt. Engraved on it were the words beloved friend, sister, and wife.

Wife.

He really should have married you before you were declared dead. It didn't matter now; you would always be his wife, even in death.

On the left side of your gravestone was his mother's tombstone. He did the same, cleaning it and polishing it. When he was done, he tapped your gravestone thrice, "Una na ako, mahal. Paalam din, Ma. Baka hanapin pa ako ni bossing."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He jerked, swerving around and standing up. He swore someone just touched his shoulder and—

Whoosh!

"Parang isang pahiwatig na magpapaalam ka na."

A gentle breeze came from behind him, where the tree was. Once more, he turned around.

Crispin didn't know what to do.

He thought he was dreaming, but he wasn't. He knew he wasn't. Not with the way your hand rested on his cheek. Not with how warm you felt.

Despite seeming almost transparent, you looked absolutely radiant, more so than when you were in life. If he was biased before about you having a halo and a beam of light following you around, now he wasn't (because you really did have a golden circle on your head and a candescent glow behind you).

You didn't speak, but again, you tapped your index finger thrice on his cheek. He was too stunned to react to the featherlight touch you had. It was almost nothing, but it was there. A ghostly tap, tap, tap.

"... Mahal?" he whispered.

You joyfully beamed at him (God, did you look divine), then planted a fragile kiss on his lips. You settled down on the roots of the tree and patted the patch of grass beside it. He sat down slowly. When he did, he removed his black gloves while you intertwined your hand with his.

On his left ring finger was a string ring made from that old shirt of yours. The same one you improvised your string ring from. It was how Crispin always remembered you and how he brought your memory everywhere with him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The triple tapping. Perhaps it was your way of wordlessly saying you loved him while simultaneously bidding him goodbye as a ghost. He didn't know. You couldn't speak (or he couldn't hear you), so you did what you could.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Just that gesture every once in a while as you quietly listened to him tell you about his day.

When he had to leave, he saw you there by the tree, sitting and waving at him. The next time he came to visit, you were there. Always there, waiting.

And when you weren't, after a couple of decades, Crispin knew that it was time for him to let you go.

To let himself move on.

But that didn't mean he stopped hurting or stopped loving you. He could never stop loving you. Never.

Kahit kailangan ka niyang bitawan upang makapagpatuloy ka sa kabilang buhay, habangbuhay kang minahal ng isang diyos ng digmaan.

× AUTHOR'S NOTE ×

Nasa mood kasi akong manakit ng tao (because ngayon ko lang pinanood ang mga pelikula ni Rico Yan & Claudine Barretto after his death; ang pait eh, right person but wrong time). Medyo sadista pala ako, haha. Ayun, pati ako umiiyak habang nagsusulat nito. Even when I was showering, I was still crying and blowing my nose out. Sana nagustuhan niyo kasi pati author niyo nasaktan sa ginawa niya. 🥲😅

And that tapping gesture was inspired by a random Reddit post I saw years ago. As someone whose love language ain't saying stuff out loud, that just really called out to me. Acts of service kasi akin, eh.

Anyways, I finished writing this at like, 12AM. I'll just edit the typos and errors tomorrow because I want to get this oneshot off my chest. Goodnight! 😂💤

Comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, too! (Yes, you may also rant at me for this.) 💙

TAGLIST: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @hannalogies @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie @haliya-mori

#trese #trese 2021 #trese netflix #crispin #crispin x reader #trese fic #x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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otptings · 3 years

Text

SVT Hyung Line Reaction

▷Idols: SVT Hyung Line

▷Requested: yessss hi! can i request svt hyung line reaction when their girlfriend is on period?

thankyou in advance love ❤️

▷Genre: Fluff

▷Word Count: 977

▷Synopsis: Hyung line reaction when their girlfriend is on her period

▷Warnings: vomiting, cramps, nausea, blood (duh)

▷A/n: the hoshi story actually happened to me and I was traumatized. I did this one differently because I just couldn't figure out a way to make it like my typical requests. I did like imagining how they would react to their girlfriend on their period, and I hope you enjoy this request. if you did my requests are open for SVT, NCT, Enhypen and Treasure. please like, reblog, or donate to my ko-fi in my bio thank you so much for reading 💞

Seungcheol

Caring

Over the top caring

Brings you sweets, food, all of the above

Goes out of his way to make you comfortable

Pretty much acts like your pregnant in the way he refuses to let you do anything

But he’s so nice about it you don’t even complain

If your cramps are whooping your ass he’s right there beside you

Pills, heating pad, water, chocolate on deck

If you don’t like chocolate? He has your favorite sweets or period snack on deck

You won’t have to ask for anything he’ll offer

Quick to cancel any non-important plans for you

“Sorry, I can't come to practice. I broke my kidney.”

“She’s on her period?”

“She’s on her period.”

All of the boys already know (he only has two excuses and they both suck)

Jeonghan

You don’t even need to ask him

He’d already done it

“Babe can you bring me a heating pad?”

“Already on the bed.”

“Would you mind going to get me candy?”

“Check the pantry

He’s on one at all times

You believe he’s a mind reader truthfully he’s so intune to you

He keeps a bucket beside the bed incase your nausea becomes too much

You’ve never used it because he always knows ahead of time (wizard)

Doesn’t complain when you lay half over him

Rubs your back soothingly because he knows it hurts

Overall 10/10 boyfriend

Joshua

Prepared

Not intuitive like Jeonghan

Just keeps everything on deck incase you want or need it

Teddy bear you haven’t slept with since you were 5? Beside your pillow

Flowers in case you feel down? Only the best for his babygirl

Has a whole kit set up for you when you come over

Hot water bottle, snacks, everything you could possibly think of for your period

Makes you the best dinner to help you feel better

Jun

He knows that your periods are intense

You typically spend them at your own apartment for that reason

But when you unexpectedly bleed through your jeans, and almost faint on him he refuses to let you go home alone

“You have clothes here, I can go get you stuff. Not letting you stay by yourself.”

Will practically run to your apartment (panicked and forgot cars exist)

Will bring back everything he thinks is useless

Which is a lot of bullshit

He’ll bring a random pack of hot chocolate he found because he thought you might like it

Your favorite pair of shoes, your old dogs favorite chew toy, an old bra

“How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t need this old elementary spanish book?”

He did however bring all of your period supplies

Including stuff that you hadn’t told him to get but ended up needing

Nausea medicine that helped your fainting somehow (“My cousin told me that might help, I asked her on the way back”)

A bucket by your side incase you threw up

Spent the night by your side, rubbing your stomach to help your cramps

Soonyoung

Knows about periods and their side effects

He has an older sister, and has had too many terrifying experiences

He shivers every time he remembers his sister walking into the house with a pair of blood stained shorts

So he knows what to do

Kinda(?)

He’s always concerned when it comes to you

He doesn't remember his sisters cramps being that bad

Whenever he sees you sitting on the bedroom floor, holding your stomach he panics

Panics a lot

Will bring you medicine only after you remind him

Hits himself thinking about how useless he is

But when he walks back into the bedroom and sees you now crying on the floor he gets to work

Makes you take two pills

Picks you up and moves you to the bed

After it’s all over likes to cheer himself on

Knowing that he helped you feel better

Wonwoo

Prepared x 2

Had his fair share of girlfriends

This is a man you’d trust to hold your drink at the club

Of course his girlfriends weren’t scared to mention their periods or ask him for favors

So when you come home one day, complaining about your period he knows what to do

Offers you medicine while he orders takeout

Allows you to curl up beside him while he works

Won’t care when you sit on his lap while he’s gaming

Only rubs your back soothingly with one hand while focusing on the game

Once he realizes you’re crying will instantly turn off his game and pull you onto the bed

“Baby are your cramps bad? Do you need medicine or your heating bottle?”

“You’re so nice to me. I love you.”

Straight faced

Mutters “i love you too” as you continue to cry

Didn’t sign up for this

Wouldn’t return you though

Woozi

Prepared times 3

As an only child he was a little confused on how to help at first

You were open about your period, and how bad they got

He was still just as confused

But he did his own research on supplies and snacks that will help

Keeps two period kits for you

One in a cute little box in the corner of his studio (he spends a lot of time there, it’s only natural you’d also be there occasionally)

The other in his dorm room

Both kits mirror your own with the same products and all

When you walk into his studio, pout on your lips Woozi is quick to pick up on it

“How bad is it?” “A 8”

Sighing Woozi grabs some medicine from the bag and handing it you happily

Saves his work before gently pushing you onto the couch

Pulls you into his chest for cuddles, knowing that you were more sensitive on your period since you’d told him

Can’t complain too much because he loves whenever you’re needy

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #svt hyung line

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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years

Text

Chapter 6: I’m Willing

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[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

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“Keikei! Ko-chan stole my dwink!” Kia tells Akaashi. Bokuto sticks his tongue out at Kia and the former setter glares at him. He pouts and gives the yogurt drink back to Kia.

“You got me this time...” Bokuto huffs, pretending to be upset. He continues to play with Kia while Akaashi helps you with the dishes.

Sakusa is standing at the hallway, staring at his living room in horror. He regrets telling Hinata and Bokuto that their friends are coming over. He should have known that those airheads would no doubt join. Worse, they tagged Atsumu along with them, because why not? The more the merrier, right? Inviting Kenma and Akaashi was out of courtesy, but his teammates are here out of boredom.

All he wanted was a peaceful dinner with you and the two quiet former setters. But his teammates really said no. “My house...” Sakusa pouts, looking at the mess that has been made in the kitchen. He sees you washing the dishes with Akaashi, relief washing over him for a moment.

“Go on. Help her,” Kenma suddenly speaks beside him. Sakusa’s hand clutches on his chest as the curly haired boy is shocked. “Just go before they finish.”

So he does. He goes to you. Akaashi leaves you as he sees Sakusa approaching. You don’t even notice that it is already him beside you and not your cousin. When you do realize though...

It’s awkward.

Very awkward.

The tension between the two of you is undeniably suffocating. The other five boys in the room, staring at the two of you scandalously, aren’t helping at all. You make eye contact with Kenma and he smiles at you teasingly. You glare at him and chuckles silently.

“What are you looking at?” Kia, confused, asks the five boys. She also looks at you and Kiyoomi but she doesn’t see anything interesting. The two of you are just washing dishes. “Let’s play!”

“What do you wanna play?” Akaashi asks her and the little girl scans her eyes through the room. The volleyball on the shelf catches her eye so she points at it. “Volleyball?”

“Yeah! Let’s play volleyball!” Hinata cheers and takes the ball from the shelf. Sakusa sighs and tells them that their is a net at the backyard. The five boys go outside with, leaving you and Kia behind.

“You should join them. There aren’t much dishes left anyways,” you tell him but he continues to wash the dishes with you. You keep quiet and do the dishes fast. You place the last plate on the rack and dry your hands.

“It’s time for Kia to wash,” he says, looking at the wall clock. You know of his crazy memory so you aren’t surprised that he remembers. He goes out to the backyard so you follow behind him, unfamiliar with the house. You note to yourself to have a tour when he’s not around.

You arrive at the backyard and there is a volleyball net in the middle. Of course, there is. On the right is a small green house and on your right, there are flowers? When did Kiyoomi get into flowers?

“Mama!” Kia runs to you, sweaty and panting. Her cheeks are flushed red and her bangs are sticking to her forever. “Can I play for a longer time?”

“5 more minutes,” you tell her and she screams in joy.

“Join us, Kyo! I wanna see you jump!” She runs around Kiyoomi excitedly before grabbing his hand and leading him to the little court. “Keikei! Kenken! Kyo can jump really high, too!”

“Of course he does! He was one of the top players of Japan when we were in high school!” Hinata brags all knowingly.

“How about Mu-chan?” Kia points at Atsumu, not paying attention to what Hinata said. Sakusa bites his inner cheek, stopping himself from hitting the blonde setter.

“He was the best setter in high school!” Bokuto does a thumbs up and Akaashi gives him a look of betrayal. “You were good, too, Akaashi!”

“Bokuto-san... after all we’ve been through,” Akaashi dramatically says, reenacting Bokuto’s emo mode.

“Looks very familiar,” Kenma chuckles. Hinata laughs along with him.

They continue to play, tossing and passing only since Kia is there. You sit at the bench where they placed their phones, wallets, and watches. Steal it and run girl. You watch them play and remember high school. You used to watch them in the bleachers, and they were wearing different jerseys back then. They’re all different people from they were in high school, but something with them playing volleyball just sparks a little happiness in you. Maybe familiarity doesn’t change.

Your eyes land on Sakusa and your heart beats faster. This is like high school all over again. You used to watch him and Komori play like this in their backyard. Who would have thought he’d have more friends he’d be comfortable playing casually with? Maybe some things changed for the better.

“Sakusa looks stunning, doesn’t he?” You don’t notice Atsumu sitting beside you. You clear your throat, not giving him a response. He chuckles, “I honestly thought Sakusa was the type not to fall in love and die old alone. But seeing you in person, I think I understand why he didn’t end up like that.”

“Thank you?” you respond unsure.

“So what was Sakusa like as a boyfriend?” He asks. You raise an eyebrow at him and he just shrugs.

“You’re asking like you’re the obsessed and jealous new girlfriend,” you rebutted.

“I might be.” You laugh at his response and look down to you feet.

You wonder about his question and all you can do is smile. “He was the perfect boyfriend. Not the one with the best social and communication skills, but he was the best for me.” Atsumu smiles due to your response.

Maybe love doesn’t change.

At the corner of Sakusa’s eyes, he can see you and Atsumu talking and laughing together. Kenma notices this so nudges Akaashi. “Do something or (y/n) might become single for the rest of her life.”

“Hey, Kenma and I bought beer before coming here. Do you wanna drink?” Akaashi asks Sakusa. The spiker can only nod, unable to say no to Kenma and Akaashi. He has developed great respect towards them for being there with you all the way. They’re good friends to you, he sees them as friends, too.

You hear Akaashi’s words so you call Kia, “Kia! Time to wash!” The toddler comes running to you. The two of you enter the house, directing to the room you decided to share with your daughter.

The boys settle at the lanai, calming down from playing. Kenma takes the cans of beers out of his trunk and brings it to them. He distributes the cans and sits on the floor like the other guys. Akaashi and Kenma stare at Sakusa, getting ready to interrogate him.

“You still have feelings for her, don’t you?” Akaashi speaks first, and Atsumu whips his head to his direction. He didn’t think Akaashi would be the blunt type of person.

“I do,” Sakusa responds nonchalantly. The rooms becomes awkward again. Even the noisy Bokuto, Hinata and Atsumu couldn’t do anything. The other three’s silence is too loud. Luckily, you and Kia arrive.

“I’m going to sleep now!” Kia announces, running to Akaashi first. She gives him a kiss on the cheek, then goes to Kenma after. She kisses his cheek, too. Bokuto asks for one too, but Kia shakes her head. Bokuto pouts and she gives in. She kisses his cheek and goes to Hinata next. He greets Atsumu good night, kissing him like the other boys.

Kia stops in front of Kiyoomi. She reaches her hand for his cheeks and he lowers his head so she can. She places a kiss on his forehead before running back to you. You smile at the sight, your heart melting at how cute they look.

“He wants a kiss from you, too,” Kenma tells you and you roll his eyes at him. Kia runs back to you, waving good night to them. When you are out of sight, they continue to drink in silence. Finally, Sakusa speaks again.

“I may not have been there from the start, and have been an asshole halfway, but I’m actually willing to try. I’m willing to be Kia’s dad if it means having (y/n) back.”

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Facts:

Akaashi went with you to Osaka because he had to remind Bokuto about his tax.

Kenma was just bored so he went with you.

It was Hinata who invited Atsumu

Sakusa was not supposed to let them in but he couldn’t act rude around Kenma and Akaashi. He’s afraid that they’ll see him in a bad way.

Sakusa only let Atsumu in because he brought Osamu’s onigiri.

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Note: thank you for all the support! i love seeing all your replies. i just couldn’t figure out how to reply back huhuhuhu hopefully, i get to understand tumblr better soon hahahaha

Taglist: @elianetsantana aoi-turtle ptv-hades aquzairus a-applepi justoneofthefangirls arianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian loser-keiji mxngy ne-kuroo n1fangirlsblog d-efend missalicebaskerville marvelousbakugou agaashesmilktea bonkyandloki kimi09 gyumimir

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu series #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa smau #haikyuu scenarios #sakusa scenarios #sakusa imagines

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tobesolonely · 4 years

Text

never have i ever

summary: y/n and harry go on a camping trip, but things don’t go according to plan

a/n: thank u for reading! please reblog/leave feedback if you enjoy! its very encouraging to me :’)

warnings: smut <33 18+ please! mentions of alcohol/drinking as well

word count: ~4k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

Never in your life did you think you'd ever agree to do something as outdoorsy as camping, yet all it took was Harry asking you very sweetly one time, and you immediately agreed. You'd never been one to spend an excessive amount of time with nature. You loved a good sunrise and sunset, just like most people. Sometimes you'd even wake up early and go on a sunrise hike with Harry if he promised to make you breakfast once you were finished. Occasionally, you'd go on walks and runs with him, and spend some time down at the beach. That was the extent of the outdoor activities you'd partake in, though. However, Harry had the grand idea to go camping for the weekend as he had a bit of time off, and this was something he'd been talking about wanting to do for a while.

"Don't you wanna be one with nature? Help me pitch a tent? Get your hands a lil' dirty?" He asked you when you started having second thoughts about going with him, the idea of sleeping on the hard ground inside a small tent a major turn off.

"I mean, I can think of better ways to spend my weekend," you tell him, stirring the pot of soup you were making on the stove. It's the night before you were supposed to leave, and Harry already had the car packed, way too excited to wait any longer. "You know I always get the worst bug bites."

"That's what bug spray is for!" he tells you cheerily, snaking his arms around your waist and placing a wet kiss to your neck. "C'mon, Y/N. I promise it'll be worth it."

You sink into Harry's kisses, feeling wobbly in your knees as it was one of your most sensitive spots— and he knew that. "I suppose it'd be nice to get out of the city for a bit. Jus' me and you, yeah?" You didn't want anyone else to see how out of your element you were in the outdoors as you found it to be a little embarrassing. Harry hums, placing more open mouth kisses on your skin.

"Just me," he pauses to kiss you. "You," another kiss. "And the birds ‘n the bees." You blush, choosing to ignore his sexual innuendo.

"I guess it's too late to back out now, especially since you already took it upon yourself to pack a suitcase for me," you tell him, rolling your eyes and turning off the stove. "I'll give it a try, Harry. Besides, it's only a weekend, yeah? What could possibly go wrong?"

⋆⋆⋆

As it turns out, many, many things could go wrong during a weekend-long camping trip.

Harry told you that you didn't need to pull up directions because he knew where he was going, but you quickly realized that your stubborn boyfriend was hopelessly lost. "I don't think we're heading in the right direction, darling," you informed him from the passenger seat, opening up the Maps app on your phone. "You're positive you don't want me to give you directions? No shame in admitting you're lost."

Harry mutters under his breath, squinting his eyes to look at the freeway signs. He sighs, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Think I missed m'bloody exit," he tells you, clearly growing frustrated. "Can yeh tell me where 'm supposed to be, love? I think once I figure out the exit, we'll be good."

You and Harry were choosing to not venture too far out of Los Angeles, but far enough so you would be able to enjoy your time together without prying paparazzi. For this reason, he settled on a spot known to be a little more remote, about 50 miles north of downtown. Once you pull up the directions on your phone, your suspicions are confirmed. Harry was headed in the complete opposite direction, and he missed the exit nearly ten miles back. "Yeah, you're gonna need to take the next exit you see, and then we have to go back in the opposite direction. Just about ten miles too far."

"Ten miles? Lemme see tha'," he holds his hand out for your phone and pulls the car over on the freeway's side, turning on his hazards. "Huh, you're right. How'd we miss that, babe?"

"We missed it because you insisted you didn't need directions," you remind him, exasperated. "I'm from here, and I don't even know how we're supposed to get there!" Harry laughs, re-emerging onto the freeway.

"I guess I should've just let you read me the directions, huh? Don't worry, we'll be there soon. S'what? Ten miles? We'll be there in twenty minutes."

However, twenty minutes quickly turned into forty when you found yourselves stuck in the morning commute traffic. Harry fiddles with the radio as you go 5 miles per hour (on the freeway!), trying not to let the infamous Los Angeles traffic get him down. Although you were a bit behind the schedule he'd created, it was still only 7:30 am. You had the whole day ahead of you, and he couldn't wait to get you out in the wilderness and teach you how to pitch a tent and make the perfect s'more."

Eventually, you make it to the campgrounds. You had to admit that it was absolutely beautiful— tall, looming pine trees, snow-capped mountains, picnic tables, patches of even ground you figured would be perfect to set up the tent on, and even a couple outhouses. Harry gives you a smug look when he sees your awestruck face, glad that he was the first to show you something from your own city.

"It's beautiful up here, innit? So peaceful. Looks like we're here by ourselves too," he gestures towards the empty campgrounds. "Nice and private."

You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt as Harry puts the car in park. "I'm already feelin' more relaxed," you joke, opening the door and stepping out to stretch your stiff limbs. "Should we walk around and take a peek at everything before we get ourselves set up?"

"Yeah, s'good idea," he gets out of the car himself and walks around to you, grabbing your hand. "Maybe we can go hiking later? Hear there's a nice little waterfall somewhere around here. Would love to see that." You hum in agreement, walking along the dry ground, leaves crunching under your feet.

"That sounds nice. I can't believe I've never been here," you tell him incredulously, swinging your hands. "It's so gorgeous. And is it just me, or is the air here like, super crisp?" Harry chuckles, nodding in agreement.

"I don't think it's just you, poppet. We're finally away from all that L.A. smog, can take some nice, deep breaths. This will be great for m'asthma." You laugh, and a comfortable silence falls between you. Occasionally, Harry will say, "Look at tha' bird!" or "That's the biggest tree 've seen in my life!" but you walk in silence, for the most part, enjoying each other's company.

"Do you think we should turn back?" you ask your boyfriend, stopping to look back in the direction you came from. "We've been walkin' for a minute. I don't think we should venture too far from the car." You were starting to grow tired and weren't in the right shoes for walking much longer.

"Yeah, let's get back and get that tent set up. Also gettin' kind of hungry," Harry tells you, turning you back around in the direction you'd come from. "How's tea and eggs sound?"

⋆⋆⋆

"Harry, you've got to be fuckin' kidding me!"

"Y/N, I swear I packed it! It has to be somewhere in here!"

"We've emptied out the entire car, Harry!"

Upon returning to the campsite, your boyfriend was excited to get the tent out of the car, so you could "really get this camping trip started," as he said. Yet, when he went in the trunk of his car to retrieve the tent, it was nowhere to be found. Neither one of you panicked at first, figuring he might've squeezed it in the backseat instead, as the trunk was pretty full. It wasn't there, either. Now, your suitcases and cooler was laid out around the car, but the tent was nowhere to be found. He runs his fingers in frustration through his hair, tapping his foot while he contemplates calling one of his assistants and asking her to bring it to him.

"Harry, don't make her do that. You already told her she could have the weekend off. It's not her fault you forgot it," you scold, digging your shoe's toe into the dirt. "We can just sleep in the car."

"That's so uncomfortable," he mewls, placing your suitcases back into the car. "Maybe we should just go home. We're not off to a very good start, maybe it's a sign?"

"No way, H. I've already called off work to come here with you, we're staying," you insist, reaching back into the car to grab the electric tea kettle you've bought. "Let's get a little breakfast in our stomachs and then go see that waterfall, how's that sound?" Harry gives you a reluctant look but agrees, reaching in the cooler to grab the carton of eggs you've brought along. He grabs the small skillet, albeit your favorite one that you told him not to bring here, and grabs a small charcoal bag to light the grill.

"Have yeh got a lighter on ya?" Harry asks, walking over to the small grill beside the picnic table. You raise your eyebrows at him.

"Me? You didn't ask me to bring it! Are you telling me we can't even light the grill now?" You couldn't believe everything that could go wrong on your camping trip was going wrong, but now it seemed like you wouldn't even be able to prepare hot meals for the next two days.

"Yes, I did, Y/N," Harry argues back calmly, not wanting to raise his voice. "Remember? I bought that long one so it would be easier to use. Said, 'Babe, make sure yeh grab the lighter off the counter.'" You think for a moment and then shake your head, sure Harry did, in fact, not tell you to grab the lighter, and he was just trying to push the blame to you.

"Now what? We can't cook the meat or vegetables all because you couldn't remember to bring the lighter," you tell him sharply, feeling yourself growing more annoyed by the second. You were incredibly frustrated because you weren't keen on the idea of camping in the first place, but you came along anyway, not expecting so many things to go wrong.

Harry closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, a thing he does every time things start getting heated between the two of you because he hates fighting. "Well, it's at home, and there's not much we can do about it, so 'm sorry for pointin' fingers at you. Did we bring anything we can snack on that doesn't require cooking?" You rummage around in the cooler and find a box of cheese, some cold cuts, a loaf of french bread, and a couple bottles of wine.

"Hows some cheese, bread, and meat sound? We can make little sandwiches," you tell him, pulling out the food. "Maybe some wine?"

Harry chuckles, walking over to you. "Y/N, it's not even 10 am."

"We're on vacation, aren't we?"

He shrugs, walking over to you to grab the bottle of wine. You grab plates, napkins, and a sheet you bought to double as a tablecloth, laying it out atop the picnic table. "'M actually starving," he calls to you from beside the car, reaching to grab two wine glasses. "Can't wait to eat this."

You cut into the loaf of french bread and cheese and add slices of salami and ham, quickly assembling mini sandwiches for you and Harry. "These look good, don't they?" you ask him, half teasing, half-serious. You hand him his sandwich, and he grins, grabbing it from you.

"Looks delicious, Y/N, thank you. Cheers," he gently taps his sandwich against yours, and you both take big bites, moaning at your first taste of food all day. "Want some wine now?" He asks, pouring you each full glasses. He slides the glass in front of you and you grab it, taking a long sip.

"S'good. Where'd you get this one from?" you question, taking another bite from your sandwich.

"Italy," he responds sheepishly, tasting it himself. "I know how to pick a bottle of wine, don't I?"

You giggle at your boyfriend's subtle bragging, continuing to eat your breakfast. You realized that there was no way you and Harry could comfortably spend the whole weekend here camping. You'd most likely have to call it quits before it got dark. However, you were still glad you'd get to spend time with your boyfriend outdoors, eating "emergency sandwiches" and sipping on a 500 dollar bottle of wine.

⋆⋆⋆

"Never have I ever had a one night stand," you say loudly, giggling in the process. You and Harry were both absolutely plastered, having already finished one bottle of wine and working on the second. You've decided to play a good old fashioned game of Never Have I Ever, and it was getting more raunchy the drunker the two of you became. Harry narrows his eyes at you and takes a swig out of the bottle of wine, shaking his head.

"You already know 've had one because I've told yeh about it before, yeh lil' cheater," he exclaims, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Here's one. Never have I ever shagged in the backseat of a car." You choke on your wine, widening your eyes at him.

"You actually think I've done that? How kinky do you think I am?" you smack him on his arm, laughing at his ridiculous statement. Harry doesn't say anything, running his finger along the rim of his wine glass.

"Here's a more specific one," he leans closer to you, and you can smell the wine on his warm breath. "Never have I ever shagged in the back of my car, in the middle of the woods, while on a camping trip with my girlfriend." His hand goes to rest on your thigh, and you swallow thickly.

"Thought you wanted to go see that waterfall?" you ask him, your words jumbling together slightly. Harry turns to face you, so his legs are on either side of the bench, and he pulls you closer to him by your waist.

"Don't care much for the waterfall when 've got a beautiful woman sat in front of me," he blurts, sucking on the underside of your jaw.

"What d'you want then?" you challenge, tilting your head slightly, so Harry is better positioned to place kisses to your jaw.

"Want you," he responds simply, grabbing your hand and placing it over his growing bulge. "Y'know how wine gets me goin', love." You hum in agreement, palming him through his trousers.

"I know," you respond breathlessly, pulling away from him to down the rest of your wine. "Why don't we go to the car then?" Harry gives you a surprised look, a dopey smile on his face.

"So we're really doin' this then?" He asks, standing up from the picnic table and holding his hand out for you to grab.

"No one's around, why not?" You knew that your sexual boldness came from all the wine you'd consumed, but at that moment, you didn't think there was anything you wanted more in the world than your boyfriend's cock down your throat. "Need to taste you." Harry groans, leading you hastily toward the car. You both stumble to get there in your intoxicated stupor but make it in one piece, giggling and clinging onto one another.

"After you, m' lady," he opens the backseat and curtsies, causing you to both erupt into a fit of giggles. You clamber into the backseat, scooting all the way to the other side so Harry could climb in after you. He shuts the door, and you sit in silence for a minute, catching your breaths. "Tight squeeze back here, yeah?"

"Yeah," you readjust your body, so your back is against the door, and your legs are over Harry's lap. "How are we gonna do this?"

Harry's quirks an eyebrow at you, undoing the button on his pants. "Yeh really wanna just straight into it, don't yeh, minx?" You nod, readjusting your position, so you're now on your knees, having to crane your neck slightly, so you're not hitting the car's roof.

"Let me taste you," you offer, seeing his hard cock straining to get out the confines of his tight clothing. He wordlessly nods and lifts his hips, tugging his pants down to his mid-thigh. He's not as hard as he can get, maybe due to the amount of wine he's consumed, but you know he's nearly there. You reach over to grab him, hands shaking slightly. "Can't believe we're doing this in the middle of the woods. Makes it even hotter, though."

Harry's head falls against the back seat's headrest as you flick your tongue out to capture the drop of pre-cum that was beginning to run down the side of his head. "Take me in y' mouth, Y/N. What are yeh waiting for?"

You place your hands on his thighs and lower your mouth onto his cock, taking him almost entirely in your warm mouth. Harry lets out a loud groan, not even bothering to quiet his sounds of pleasure since he knew no one was anywhere nearby. You come back up for air and lick your lips, giving him a sultry look. "You mean like that?" Harry grips the back of your head and roughly pushes you back down onto him, not in the mood for your teasing.

"Don't be cheeky now, lovie," he warns, bucking his hips up roughly to fuck your mouth. "Yeh want me to help you cum later, don't yeh?" You moan around his cock, not wanting to answer him, so you don't break the rhythm you were going at. As your sex life with Harry grew more adventurous throughout your relationship, you've only gotten better at deepthroating him, able to get him close to his orgasm in minutes. You always joked between the two of you that giving him head was one of your greatest talents, and of course, he never disagreed with that sentiment. You come up from his cock to take another breath, inhaling deeply through your nostrils. Harry immediately pushes you back down onto him without saying anything. He begins thrusting into you with even more vigor than before, and you know he's almost there. "Y/N, 'm gonna cum—"

You pull off Harry's mouth with a loud plop!, lifting up your dress and shoving your underwear to the side. "Can I ride you?" you ask sweetly, already situating yourself over him. Your boyfriend nods, completely flustered from being pushed so close to his orgasm, and then denied the opportunity to cum.

"S'course," he answers with a shaky breath. "C'mere." He grabs your waist and guides you onto his length, helping you sink down slowly. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling him deep within you. Every ridge, every pulse, the warmth— it makes you feel completely feral. "That's a good girl, Y/N. Takin' my cock like it's nothing, aren't yeh? This is easy for you, hmm?"

You nod against his shoulder, starting to bounce around slowly on him. "So easy, H. Fit inside me so well," you moan, squeezing your eyes shut. "Feels fuckin' incredible, stretchin' me out like this." Harry squeezes onto your sides, leaving bruises in the shapes of his fingers. Harry places a kiss against his lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

"You like tha', Y/N? Such a dirty girl, lettin' me fuck ya in the back of my car like this. Kinky lil' thing, you are, pet," he mutters, thrusting his hips up as you slam yourself down to meet him. You nod, moving your hips in a gyrating motion.

"Love it, H. Fuckin' into me so well, fuck," you let out a particularly loud cry when Harry repositions you slightly, hitting your g-spot int he new position he has you in. "Don't stop please, keep going." You urge your boyfriend, throwing your head back. It's incredibly hot in the car, and you realize that maybe you should've cracked open a few windows before starting, but there was no way you're going to stop now to tell him that, not when you were this close.

"Y/N, I'm gonna cum," he cries out, his breathing becoming labored. "Let me have yeh in another position, please, 'm so fuckin' close."

"There's no room," you choke out, squeezing down on him. Harry moans loudly, muttering a quiet "shit" under his breath. He lifts you off of him and lays you down across the backseat, bending your knees up to your chest while he situates himself in between your legs. It's cramped and uncomfortable and hot, but you're so close, just a few thrusts away from reaching your high.

"Put your legs over my shoulders," he demands, resting on hand on the car's headrest while the other grips your breast. You nod and place your legs on either side of his shoulders, now being able to feel him in a completely different way. He re-enters you, so much deeper than before, and you swear you see stars. "Fuckin' hell, Y/N. Love your tight pussy, babe. All fo' me, yeah?"

"All for you, baby," you cry, gripping onto his broad shoulders. "'M gonna cum now, let me cum." You're a begging, writhing mess beneath him, squeezing down on his cock.

"Do tha' again," he asks, his rhythm becoming sloppy and hurried, just wanting to get the two of you off. "I'm almost there too, babe, squeeze 'round my cock again like you just did."

You clench around Harry and he lets his head hang, squeezing onto your breast even harder. "'M cummin', Y/N," he announces immediately before releasing inside you, his warm load coating your spongy walls. Your bite your lip and squeeze around him again, the coil in your abdomen becoming tighter as you quickly approach your peak shortly after he reaches his. You know Harry is exhausted, but he doesn't stop, never wanting to leave you hanging. He reaches in between your bodies and rubs quick circles on your clit with the hand that's gripping the headrest and flicks your nipples with the other hand. "Come on, love. Can feel how close you are, I know you're nearly there."

Harry spanks your clit while increasing his speed, and your eyes roll into the back of your head, your vision going hazy. You feel like you're underwater— his voice sounds muffled and a little far away, and that's how you know the orgasm was good. Your eyes are still shut, and you feel him slowly pull out, trying not to get his seed all over the backseat of his car. After coming down from your high, you open your eyes, a blissed-out smile on your face. "That was incredible." You let out a quiet chuckle, wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead. "Can you open the door? I can hardly breathe in here."

Harry laughs and slowly sits up, opening the door and inhaling the cold morning air. The car's windows were completely fogged up, and you're happy no one was walking by because if they did, they'd definitely know what the two of you had gotten into. "Guess you can't say you've never fucked in the backseat of a car before anymore."

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #never have i ever #thanks for reading!

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

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Road to us pt. 5|7 - Under the influence [George Weasley x Reader]

Title: Road to us pt. 5|7 - Under the influence Pairing: Post War!George Weasley x Female!Reader Word count: 1.4k Published: 30 October, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warning: alcohol, intoxicated behaviour Challenge: [x] [x] [x] Notes: I started this for @kashishwrites ‘s writing challenge. It was supposed to be a one shot, but it turned into a series somehow. In this series George’s ear is perfectly fine. I used the below prompt

"I don't remember you."

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Road to Us Masterlist

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As weeks passed by, George has shown you around places you liked before and told you more and more stories about your past. It was refreshing, but each time you tried to dig deeper, the boy stopped you. You were good at being silly together, even if he slightly returned to his fake smiles, but you could clearly sense that the boy wasn’t completely honest, carefully choosing the words he spoke.

George thought that meeting new people would help you, so he took you to meet your friends Alicia and Katie to have a girly afternoon. But before he left you, he led the girls away from you, whispering amongst the three of them, leaving you wondering about what they have been keeping from you.

As you walked across Hogsmeade, Katie and Alicia kept whispering between each other, leaving you suspicious. You tried to listen in on their conversation, but the girls were good at hiding whatever they were keeping from you

“Enough.” You turned around, halting your group. “What is going on?”

“Nothing, we were just discussing something.” Alicia replied quickly. Too quickly for your liking.

“Uhum.” You nodded suspiciously but didn’t ask them about it anymore. You were fed up of trying to get people to talk about things. As if everyone just kept secrets and they wanted to tell you nothing.

“Where do you want to go?” Katie quipped in, trying to change the subject way too obviously.

“Where do we usually go?” You asked, but the girls just exchanged a suspicious look. You wanted to groan out loud, but you swallowed it instead.

“Why don’t we go to The Three Broomstick and have a butterbeer?” Alicia offered and you gave them a weird look. “What?” She asked.

“Butterbeer? As in, they put butter into the beer?” You grimaced at the unusual drink, making the girls chuckle beside you.

“No, silly. It’s just the name. It’s butterscotch.” Katie snorted as she threw her arm around your shoulders and started leading you toward the pub. You frowned as you opened the door and saw the speaking little skulls beside the entrance, eyeing you creepily.

“Welcoming place.” You scrunched up your nose, but the girls just smirked and pushed you inside towards an empty table. They ordered three butterbeers and as soon as it was done Alicia stood up and brought the three drinks over.

You eyed the unusual drink with a suspicious look, fearing to taste it. “Come on, we know you like it, otherwise we wouldn’t have ordered it.” Katie chuckled as she pushed the glass mug closer to you.

You took a deep breath and pinched your nose, not even wanting to smell the content, before you took a sip of it. Your eyes widened at the sweet flavour spreading across your tongue with the hint of a sour taste from the alcohol.

“This is good.” You grinned happily, which earned an eye roll from the girls across your table.

“I told you so.” Katie snorted and you started to think it was some kind of a trademark of hers.

You quickly got into an easy flowing conversation, laughing about silly things you have done in school, talking about George and Fred making the professors’ life miserable, and also quidditch matches and injuries. It was good to hear from the girls that you had a very pleasant time in your school years, and you were glad you didn’t miss out on being as mischievous as the Weasleys.

As you kept talking, the drinks came faster and after your fourth mug, you even forgot to count as a couple of firewhiskey joined in the mix. You enjoyed every moment of your afternoon and evening and soon you found yourself laughing about the smallest little stories, your head feeling a tad dizzy, your cheeks heating up.

“And what about boyfriends, did I have any?” You asked as you propped up your elbow on the table and placed your chin in your palm, waiting for their reply in anticipation of some juicy story about you.

However, their reaction was not what you expected. They exchanged another suspicious look, making you groan out loud. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe you were just fed up of people keeping quiet, but this time you didn’t want to stay silent.

“What is it with everyone? It’s like I ask something, and people go quiet or look at each other as if they shouldn’t say something. I lost my memory, but I didn’t become stupid.” You scoffed as your face slowly formed into a grimace, your upset mood quickly chasing away the fun moments.

“I think it’s better if we go home.” Katie said and stood up to go to your side of the table. You huffed in annoyance and tried to get up, but you quickly fell back.

“Oops.” You said with a loud chuckle. Alicia stood up too this time and helped Katie steady you in a standing position. Both took an arm of yours around their shoulder and staggered over to the exit.

As you stepped outside and the cooler summer air hit your face, you sighed at the refreshing feeling. Katie got hold of Alicia’s shoulder before they exchanged a worried look. You looked up at them, your eyes wandering between them, before Katie nodded and disapparated from Hogsmeade.

Within seconds you were unsteadily standing in front of the Burrow, your stomach’s content threatening to come up the same way it went down before. You gulped loudly and took deep breaths through your nose to calm your stomach.

As if on cue, the entrance door to the Burrow flew open and George stood there with a worried look. “What happened?” He asked as he took your arms off Katie and Alicia and scooped you up into his arms. You wrapped your hands around his neck, hiding your face in the crook.

“She drank a little too much.” Alicia snickered, which earned a pinch on her arm from Katie, making her hiss.

“I hate you.” You whined as you hit George’s chest with a pouting face. His eyes grew wide, your attack surprising him.

“What did you tell her?” George looked at Alicia and Katie, but both quickly shook their heads.

“Nothing, I promise.” Katie replied. “That’s the problem. It’s time for you to talk to her, because she was pissed off about us keeping secrets.”

“Exactly, what she said.” You groaned as you hit his chest again.

“We will be going now. Good luck with her.” Alicia snickered, but before George could reply, both girls disapparated, leaving him with your pouty self and a heavy sigh leaving his lungs.

He shook his head, disapproving your behaviour, before he walked back into the house, closing the door with his leg behind him and headed upstairs to your room.

“I hate you.” You spoke again, this time weaker than before and without the additional physical assault. You played with the silver necklace around his neck, hidden under his shirt, before you hit his chest once again, just to remind him that it was all his fault.

“And why is that?” He asked as he stepped into your room and gently placed you on top of your bed. However, you didn’t let go of his neck, you kept your arms wrapped around him. “Sweetheart, you need to let me go.” He smiled sweetly, secretly enjoying your closeness. Or he would have if you didn’t decide to get knackered.

“I don’t want to.” You whined like a little baby, your lips only a couple of inches away from him, your eyes staring into his chocolate brown irises. You wanted to feel him closer to you, you wanted to touch him, but each time he pushed you away. He got hold of your arms and gently peeled them off himself, before he slowly untied your shoes and placed each beside your bed.

“Do you not like me?” You asked out of the blue, shocking the boy for a second.

“What are you talking about?” He asked with a deep frown.

“You make me confused. Sometimes you are so sweet to me, but then a few minutes later you keep me in arm’s length. I don’t understand you.” You shook your head, but the boy didn’t intend to answer.

“We will talk about it tomorrow, okay?” He asked as he placed the duvet over your body and tucked you in like a little kid.

“You promise?” You asked, holding up your pinkie, which made him chuckle, but reluctantly accepted it. “I will remember.” You warned him, but he just nodded in response.

“Now go to sleep.” He spoke as he hinted a small kiss on your forehead, making you slightly giggle.

“Good night, Georgie.” You breathed, already drifting off to a deep slumber.

“Good night, sweetheart.” He sighed deeply as he watched you from across the room, leaning against the wooden doorframe, your little snorts making him silently chuckle. He wanted nothing but to see you happy without any issues on your mind. Watching you sleep gave him that satisfaction, before he prepared himself for something he has been avoiding since you woke up in the hospital.

Series taglist: @wand3ringr0s3 @n3ssm0nique @theweirdsideofstuff @gloryekaterina @alwaysasadaesthetic @kpopgirlbtssvt @mytreec @obsessedwithrandomthings @dragon-boy @chaoticgirl04 @kalimagik @ilovetheweasleytwinz @filipi-yes @pregnant-piggy @tugabooos @sanitisegermsfree @moonstarrnghtsky @timogtrrz @slytherclaw1996 @slytherinbth @stardewsnail @nebulablakemurphy @levylovegood @sunsetsofanemoia @elara127 @butterfliesrepose @yuptha-tsme

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#george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley #george x reader fanfiction #george x reader series #george weasley x reader series #george weasley x reader fanfiction #alicia #katie #angelina johnson #Fred Weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter series

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

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Not The Right Time

The Story of How Everything Solved (for now):

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU)

(Chapter 1: The Story of How We Ended Up There)

(Chapter 2: The Story of How He Found Out)

(Chapter 3: The Story of How She Found Out)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Happy Easter, if you celebrate it, if not happy Pesach and if not... happy eat-all-the-chocolate in the world!

I hope you’ll enjoy this fic, because I have decided to take a bit of a pause from my original fic, but don’t worry, you’ll have certainly your weekly fic!

As always, I am more than happy to be given feedback.

It has helped me a lot with the last chapter of ‘To Kill a King’ to understand the direction to continue the fic in, so if you have any sugesstion-ideas, I am just here!

Feedback makes my heart beats faster and move my fingers quicker!

Also if you want to support me, here’s my ko-fi!

SUMMARY: Ivar now hasn't simply to deal with one scorned woman, but two.

But, not only the thought of bieng separated from Eric pains him too much to be considered, but feelings for you are slowly being brought up, even more when you smile so prettily and take care so lovingly of your child.

WORDS: 6,1K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Talk about Custody Battles and Custody, Fighting and Angst, Use of The Word Cripple.

The day of the game you couldn’t help but be nervous about whether Ivar would be coming or not.

You had sent him a small message that morning, to ask him to confirm his presence and if he wanted to meet you and Eric, before the game started, to have breakfast together and he hadn’t answered you, making you almost think he wouldn’t have come.

Which you didn’t know if it would have been a good or bad thing.

Maybe he had started thinking that Eric was ‘baggage’ for him, and most importantly would ruin his picture perfect life, although, if it was like that, you didn’t understand why he had insisted so much to try to support you.

But you couldn’t help but dread the thought of what his absence would do to Eric.

You had told him in the car about the fact that Ivar might not have come, lying that he had had an appointment, coming up at last.

‘So… if you don’t see him… don’t worry’ you had tried to console him, although he had already gotten quite the pouting expression, thing that made him similar to Ivar in any way, shape and form.

And you had felt like the worst mother ever.

Eric had brightened up a bit as his friends had all come around him and lead him to the coach, once he arrived at the game.

You definitely appreciated Eric’s schoolmates, and were grateful for the warm welcome they had given him.

He had had his own share of bullies, although he said everything was fine.

But once he had created his own group of friends, the bullies had eventually stopped taunting him.

You still kept an eye out for them at these things.

And as much as you were thankful for the other kids’ company, you dreaded their mothers.

You hated stereotyping people, but no mom had ever been so nice to avoid doing the same with you, as they looked at your hand-me-down clothes, and your lack of diamond ring on your finger.

And at your young face.

You had heard some rumors going around you, how you had gotten pregnant pretty young from an older man, probably some married man and had been basically thrown out of your small city for the shame of carrying a bastard.

A crippled bastard.

So, you tried not to associate yourself with them and instead, you had developed some kind of strange friendship with Angelika.

Angelika had also married young and had a child even younger, but after a small year together her husband had decided that the married life wasn’t for him.

He had gotten himself a mistress, meanwhile Angelika tried her best to keep the family safe and going, getting a small job in a local law firm.

By the end of the year she had kicked out the lazy husband and was the owner of the law firm, in a truly inspiring story.

At first, she hadn’t liked you, too young and stupid.

She had thought you had done the same mistake as her, but then she had soon discovered that the story was deeper, and she had taken the time to get to know you.

Not only she had become your friend, but she had pushed you to pursue the gallery work, eventually getting you an appointment as a try-out.

She was honestly one of the few people that you trusted and felt like she genuinely liked you.

Angelika immediately reached out to you, as she saw you arriving on the side of field where parents were allowed.

As usually she carried her small water bottle, filled with vodka and orange juice, and the ripped shirt of the soccer team, worn inside of her boyfriend jeans, meanwhile you wore it over it, completely uncaring of your appearance.

“Oh, thank God, you are here” she immediately mumbled, gripping onto your arm, as she brought you in a tight hug “… it’s been for ever since I last saw you”.

“… been busy” you were simply able to breath and you giggled softly at her affectionate antics, before she smirked at you.

“Gosh all business and no fun” she reprimanded as she took in your discarded appearance “… I gotta take you to some club”.

“What about Finn and Eric?” you asked, although you knew perfectly that if Angelika put her mind to something, everything would ever change.

“Drop them at my house, I’ll tell Theresa about it” Theresa was her German nanny, perfect and impeccable always eye-rolling at Angelika’s antics, but it didn’t wok with Angelika, who would eye-roll even harder back at her.

“I’ll think about it…” you mumbled, unsure of the entire thing.

Before Eric you had never been one for clubs or such, and you certainly wouldn’t start after the entire pregnancy and your motherhood, not simply because some nights you were too tired to even crawl to bed, but because there was a reason behind your uncaring appearance.

You were scared of your body.

Of the way it had changed during your pregnancy.

“… I know that tone” mumbled Angelika, prowling around you as a big feline “… that’s the ‘it’s definitely a no, but I am too gentle to tell you no’ “.

“That’s a ‘I’ll think about it’ “you retorted softly, as you gently held an hand out for her, before something else caught your eyes.

Ivar.

He had come.

And he was looking around as if he was a lost child.

“Just excuse me, for a moment…” you mumbled softly, as you approached him carefully, since he had this kind of lost emotion in his eyes, sadness almost and you couldn’t help but feel a fifteen girl again, who blurted out weird Taylor Swift lyrics because her best friend was unhappy, and she was trying to make him feel better.

He shook himself back to consciousness as he saw you in front of him, almost scared.

“Well you are here!” you said it with definitely much more uneasiness that you were supposed to, almost a forced out emotion “… I mean… you didn’t answer me… so I thought…”.

“Yes, I am here” and you knew that with that tone you had gone back to that fifteen-year-old-girl smiling at her best friend, because she knew she loved him.

You were screwed.

---

Ivar had woken up on the couch that morning, with his legs hurting like hell and yet, when he had seen your worried messages on his phone, he had just thought that he would be late for Eric’s game.

And he couldn’t.

He had swallowed a few painkillers, as the memory of last night came back to him, but nothing set onto him till he moved into his car, setting the journey for the school park, but then he just couldn’t stop himself from thinking.

‘What the hell am I thinking?’.

His soon-to-be-wife had basically left him because of his lies towards his life with you, and he was running to you and your child, as if you were his wife.

Which would only confirm Freydis’ jealousy.

Although he wouldn’t have approved of her psyched behavior, she certainly hadn’t been wrong about the influence you and Eric now held over him, but he would have preferred she hadn’t straight up attacked him.

But to avoid this, he shouldn’t have kept the secret from the start.

But would have Freydis allowed him to see Eric?

With that serious tone of their ‘confrontation’, he couldn’t help but feel like he had seen a side to Freydis he wasn’t used to.

Something he wasn’t completely unaware of, since he had seen some glimpses of it, but at the same time, it now seemed so deep-rooted that for a minute he had to admit that he had thought that she was going to be much more than simply vocal about the matter.

He certainly felt guilty for the wrongness of some of his actions, but he was also surprised by Freydis’ reaction to them.

He had thought some jewelry and a few promises might have made it all better, but now, in the aftermath of their fight, he had no idea how to make everything better.

Certainly, dwelling in his car wouldn’t have worked.

He tried to contact her, but her phone was switched off, and he honestly didn’t know where she could be found, certainly not a work, which was the only other contact he had for her.

And he realized he knew nothing of his soon-to-be-wife.

He didn’t know who were her friends, to who she could have gone and neither her family, since Freydis had told him that she had had a bad experience with them and had run off as soon as she could have.

He remembered a small apartment at which he had come to pick her up on their first dates, but she had soon moved away from it, as soon as Ivar proposed he just started living with her.

Hence, she was a ghost.

And although it made Ivar feel like a horrible husband, he couldn’t help but decide that this meant that she simply didn’t want to be found.

If he knew one thing for sure about Freydis was that she never did anything without a reason.

And he should have respected that.

Although it pained him.

He didn’t want to give her the impression that he didn’t care.

But at the same time, as he had made it clear the previous night, he wouldn’t leave Eric.

No matter what.

Hence, he started the engine and got to the school park.

He had almost regretted the decision, when he had arrived at the venue, immediately catching a crowd of chanting parents had welcomed and, although everybody kept their eyes to themselves, he couldn’t shake off the fact that they were staring him down.

He caught sight of you quite easily, as he saw you by the side of a pretty brunette with feline eyes, trying to convince you to do something reckless by the horrified look on your face.

It was the same you’d give Hvitserk every time he’d try his wicked charm on you.

Those were happier and easier times.

You were wearing a simple soccer jersey and oversized jeans, and although they both hid your body, they did nothing to dampen the natural beauty you had always owned.

He couldn’t help but wonder how men didn’t buzz around you like bees on a flower.

‘Stop being a creep Ivar’ he told himself, meanwhile he remembered the words of Heahamund after he had shown him a photo of you and Eric.

‘Fucking God! Do you even realize what a hot babe you left?’ he had immediately stammered as Ivar blushed ‘… did they drop you on your head as a child’.

And he confirmed it, with the way he answered your question.

Your eyes held a frantic fear and a pleasant surprise, almost as if she hadn’t thought that he’d actually come.

And your cheeks were flushed red.

He had a pleasant memory of your cheeks being flushed after their first and last night together.

It brought out all kind of memories.

‘Again, Ivar, no’.

“Well I am glad you are here” whatever gentleness you had showed for him immediately retreated back in you as you turned “… Eric will be happy of it”.

“Of course, I couldn’t miss his great day” his tone was teasing, and he could see with the way you stiffened in your position, he had hit something inside of you “… is he already on the playing ground?”.

“Sadly yes” you mumbled, but pointed him out to him, although he didn’t need much time looking to recognize the only child with braces, trying to exercise with the others, and as he exchanged a quick glance with his child, Eric immediately raised an hand to salute him.

His smile got so so big, that Ivar couldn’t help but smile back.

And ignore the continued glares sent his way.

Now intensified with his proximity to you.

He could only imagine what they all were talking about.

And as you two took a quick seat beside the brunette he had seen you talking with at the entrance of the venue, she immediately moved towards Ivar, offering a hand and a charming smile of pointy teeth.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved that your ‘friends’ were so protective of you.

You deserved it.

You deserved to be protected from anything else that could have hurt you, after everything you had endured.

“… Angelika Magnussen” she mumbled quickly presenting herself “… (Y/N)’s best friend”.

He almost wanted to scoff that he had once been your best friend…

… and look where it got him.

Where it got both of you.

“Nice to meet you, Ivar Lothbrock…” he sent you a quick look to check with you, but there was no need to lie since everybody seemed to recognize what was going on “… Eric’s father”.

“Gosh I never thought I would have ever met you” in her tone there was a tang of sarcasm that annoyed Ivar, definitely more used to people like Freydis and his mother who would have no trouble agreeing and siding with him.

Maybe not Freydis, anymore.

“… I didn’t know” he simply muttered and you pushed yourself between her and him, sending to both a vicious glare, before the referee whistled the start of the game, getting the three of you to focus on the game.

Ivar couldn’t help but be on edge as soon as he saw Eric in oversized gloves, trying to guard the door, something that could seem absolutely normal and harmless for every child who didn’t have osteogenesis imperfecta.

But for Eric, he couldn’t help but feel nervous.

But you beside him seemed completely at ease, cheering on the boy as he managed to block the ball from entering the doors, and then pushing the ball to his schoolmates.

He couldn’t help but be again amazed by your prettiness and the natural way you did everything and handled motherhood.

And then a ball hit Eric right on his chest, knocking him off his legs, enough that both you and Ivar immediately moved raising up as Ivar made a move to move away from the steps you were sat onto, but you grabbed his hand to stop him as Eric got up pretty quickly, the trainer of the team coming close to him, alongside the school nurse.

And Eric immediately put himself up, lightly limping as the nurse helped him off the field, and the trainer got another boy to take care of his place.

And then as he moved towards the benches, you both scurried off the steps.

You both came to the part that was the closest to the benches seeing the nurse helping Eric with his braces, as you oversaw the entire process, before moving to check in with the nurse, his bones.

Thankfully the hit had been to the chest and the legs bucking off under him were simply for the impact.

And Ivar couldn’t help but watch raptured your soft gestures and the way Eric leaned in softly against you, as you checked on him before helping him into his braces again, asking with a whisper if he felt ‘ok’ enough to stay.

The child immediately nodded as a few of his classmates moved to also check on him.

Ivar had never had this kind of love poured onto him.

He had also to admit that sadly he wasn’t an easy child, as loving and gentle as Eric was.

But he couldn’t help but appreciate that his son had what he hadn’t had back then.

He might end up not turning up in the big screw-up Ivar was.

You returned to him a few minutes later by Ivar’s side, and although you had seemed quite calm and cold-blooded for the entire action, he saw the way your body trembled lightly and…

… your hands were still linked.

Suddenly you gripped tight back onto his.

And he honestly liked it too much to tell you anything, although it wasn’t proper.

He had Freydis.

Or at least he had had her.

Because her actions of the previous night certainly weren’t something that made him feel reassured about his relationship status.

But at the same time, he wasn’t sure that it was so bad to be away from Freydis.

Mostly when your hands matched so perfectly in his.

He had forgotten this feeling.

And he realized he had missed it.

And when you unlatched your hands, as you sat down, he couldn’t help but feel more hurt by that than the pain in his legs, that was starting to bother him.

As soon as the game was finished. he pushed himself by side, meanwhile you and Angelika waited for your children, to take his pills again.

He was caught mid-swallow by a laughing Eric as the boy limped lightly to him and you helped him, a blond boy beside him, who hid underneath Angelika’s legs and from the way their eyes shone of the same malice, he understood he was her child.

“Ivar! Ivar!” he called out, as he tugged gently onto one leg of his pants “… have you seen the way I got that ball?”.

You giggled at his excitement and Ivar couldn’t help but nod gingerly, although he didn’t know shit of soccer, and compliment his child on his optimal score, but Angelika’s child looked at him suspiciously before muttering softly.

“… your dad doesn’t know shit about soccer” he muttered, immediately getting both yours and Angelika’s attention.

“Phineas Christian Hogarth! I don’t pay an expensive German nanny for you to curse in American!” Angelika reprimanded him quickly, gripping tight onto his shoulders, as she saluted you, continuing her lecture “… at least do it in German!”.

But the deed was done.

And Eric looked confusedly at you and Ivar.

Ivar wasn’t so afraid of it all, in the end it only accelerated things, but you looked like you had had seen a ghost and Ivar quickly proposed going out to lunch to celebrate, hence shifting the attention away from the boiling revelation.

And Eric was all too happy to be distracted.

Even more with food.

But you looked still so shaken that he couldn’t help but feel like the tables had turned from the start of the day, with him being the confused one.

As you both sat down, finishing your lunch, as Eric escaped your attention to move onto the game section of the restaurant.

“… I am sure that he’ll forget about it, as soon as he can” he mumbled softly.

You were unfocused as your gaze didn’t shift from Eric, till you shook yourself away of it.

“Maybe…” you seemed doubtful, although Eric hadn’t said anything, proceeding to explain to Ivar everything that worked in soccer, as you drove them to a small restaurant, definitely chosen for the children area and menu.

He couldn’t help but think again about all the work you had done as a mother.

It certainly took all the courage of the world to grow a child on your own.

“… and would it be so wrong to if he had heard right?” he asked, and you petrified him on the spot with a tight look.

“That depends…” he had loved that teasing tone you’d use every time you were annoyed with somebody that wasn’t him “… will you stick around?”.

“I am trying to” he commented.

“And Freydis?” you were hitting low, he wasn’t surprised “… does she know about this?”.

And his eyes answered before his words and you pushed yourself back lightly as if you had lowered yourself too much in his psyche.

“… she knows” you simply mumbled.

“… and she doesn’t like” he added with the same grim tone “… she is also pregnant so…”.

“… so she thinks that Eric is threat to her child” you completed and Ivar couldn’t also deny that he had missed your immediate telepathy “… we won’t be pissed if you want to disappear, you can do it, I don’t…”.

“I don’t want to run away!” his voice raised lightly and the usual annoying old lady beside their table raised her head to hear them better, but Ivar immediately lowered his tone again “… I don’t do that… anymore”.

“But she is pissed” you mumbled, your tone almost guilty “… I could call her, explain how we aren’t… we aren’t involved and how…”.

“She has switched off her phone” he shot back.

“… doesn’t this sound familiar?”.

And yeah that did sound familiar.

It was the same that had happened when he had broken your heart.

“… yeah it does” as he raised his head to meet yours, he almost expected to see a satisfied smile on your face, but you looked honestly… sad for him.

“… she won’t leave you” you mumbled softly “… you didn’t break her heart”.

“I kind of think that hiding a family from her is not exactly the definition of caring for another”.

“And yet you were happy for the baby and you proved to her that you wanted it” you spoke softly, as if you had imagined the same with you “… she just needs to clear up her head”.

“It’s fucking strange that you are comforting me” he mumbled, unbelieving what you were doing.

“… well I am used to your fuck-ups” you giggled silly, shooting a look at Eric as you continued to be attentive at him “… but if she gives you another chance please don’t fuck this up, ok?”.

“Ok” he mumbled, before his gaze also shifted on Eric “… she wanted me to give up on Eric”.

“Don’t blame her” and he hadn’t expected it “… us, women, are put against each other as natural competitors, so it isn’t strange for her to feel threatened by me, although she has nothing to fear. She is the one with an engagement ring”.

“I also think it’s because you and me… we…” Gosh why was he acting like a teenage boy “… had sex back then”.

And you were also flushing.

“I am not interested in your adventurous sex life with Freydis… but don’t you also?”.

“No” why was he explaining your sex life with you “… you were the only one with who… you know… the doctors said that it’s the legs and some others told me it was just my confidence not being enough… the child was created in vitro”.

“Oh” you looked taken aback, and he could see that you were processing the thought of being the only one he had been with, in “that” way “… well I do say that she has a few reasons to detest me”.

He just nodded.

“… but I do think that she should be sure about your love” you added immediately a nostalgic tint in your pretty eyes.

“Why?”.

“Because I know for experience that when you fall for somebody you fall hard, and so deeply that it is difficult not to feel loved, even though you are an asshole and sometimes a bit too harsh with your words, but you have this thing that’ll make everyone feel like being loved by you is the greatest privilege ever”.

And like that you had come closer to him, maybe more than it should have been allowed between two ex-lovers, one of which was engaged.

But he couldn’t help but value attentively each word you said, as you gently pushed yourself back, as if you hadn’t revealed to him some special secret.

Back in it, he had always thought he was ‘the difficult one’ but with those words a veil of insecurities was lifted off his chest and he couldn’t help but think about how it would have been if he had stayed with you.

And for one moment, he almost wished it.

---

You had definitely gone mad that evening.

And you blamed it on the fact that Ivar’s behavior had simply brought you back to five years ago, when you’d walk together on the small playing field of school, usually with one trying to convince the other to ditch school.

It was mostly Ivar, but you had followed many times his dark influence.

And again, this time it had gotten to you.

But it had felt nice.

Except the entire Freydis’ thing.

You had honestly felt bad for her, almost guilty, although it was Ivar’s fault (and you had told him so, as you suggested what to do to calm her down), because she seemed as somebody extremely nice with the way Ivar described her and she shouldn’t have had somebody just barging in her life with a child that could shatter her relationship with Ivar.

Maybe you should have spoked with her, explaining that you weren’t a threat to her and her child in the slightest.

One day Ivar would have gotten tired of this toy and would have wanted a new one.

And yet, the way Ivar had reacted immediately when Eric had got hurt and the way he played almost naturally with him (even informing himself on ‘The Flash’) was genuine and you hoped it’d last.

You were coming back home, just in time for a shower and a dinner, since Eric had insisted to teach Ivar a few tricks with the balls in the nearby field and Ivar, although clumsily, had agreed, even going as far as to ask you to film him getting won over by your child.

Eric had fallen asleep on the field and you had had to use a bit of Ivar’s help to get him back in the car, as he asked you if you needed anything.

‘Just do me a favor and try calling again Freydis, she’s probably going to switch her phone soon, believe me’.

‘If it makes you sleep well at night…’ he had replied simply, shifting the sarcasm back onto you, and it had been… strange.

Although again, from what Ivar said, Freydis seemed nice, he had seemed to talk about her as somebody would of an idealized role-model, but with less passion and more analysis of why ‘she was such a good partner’.

But it wasn’t your place to judge.

You woke up Eric as you arrived at home, the big boy immediately attaching himself to you as a koala, as you pleaded with him to let you go.

‘Mommy is a frail gazelle, and you weight like an elephant!’.

‘Mommy you are more a lemur’.

‘You pass a few hours with Ivar and then you treat me like this!’ you had retorted before tickling him till he had asked for forgiveness and had been awake enough to walk on his own, helped by you, because due to the strain he had put himself through his legs hurt.

‘A quick bath will solve everything’ you had mumbled and as you had helped him clean himself, as he played absentmindedly with a small boat, he had asked the fateful question you had been waiting for him to ask:

“Is… Is Ivar my daddy?”.

You froze in your movements, although you had been waiting for that question since Phineas had pointed it out.

In the end Eric was a smart boy, he certainly wouldn’t have missed all the clues.

And you couldn’t lie anymore.

“Yes” you mumbled trying to keep your tone low, as you saw your child’s eyes brighten and immediately all that fear of your child being hurt scared you even more than the thought of him running away from you.

“Then why didn’t he tell me before?” he continued asking, curious enough to prove to you that he had inherited Ivar’s precious mind.

“Because I asked him not to” you mumbled gently, seeing immediately offense shining in his eyes “… you see me and your dad… we didn’t have a good relationship, your dad… your dad and I aren’t together”.

“Does that mean that he isn’t my daddy” his tone honestly broke your heart and you couldn’t help but be hurt by this yourself and you hurried to shush him softly.

“No no, he is, but…” you didn’t want to break your heart to your own child, but you couldn’t keep him in the shadows “:.. daddy has another child on the way and a woman who will become his wife soon, so he might… he might not want you to call him ‘daddy’ “.

You tried to be the most delicate possible, but you, yourself, were on the verge of tears and were grateful that Eric didn’t ask questions for a bit, as he seemed to think all over this.

“… but I’m your mom and he’s your daddy that means that we’ll always love you, even if we are a bit busy… “ you tried to sweeten everything “… don’t ever doubt that”.

He seemed to think about it again and as your heart was breaking you rushed to take him in a big hug, as he hugged you back immediately and you stayed like that till you felt a bit too cold for your drenched shirt, and gently moved your child away slightly to help him out of the bathtub.

As you were drying his hair, he finally spoke again.

“… but can I ask him if I can call him ‘daddy’, the next time we see him?”.

And you smiled at the sweetness of your boy.

“Of course, sweetie”.

---

Ivar had tried to call Freydis but again her phone was off.

He was halfway through asking Oleg to dig up his ‘sources’ to search her, when he walked back in the apartment and found her there, as if solely his positive thought had made her appear.

And he honestly had a few minutes in which he simply looked at her getting dinner ready thinking it might be a hallucination.

And as much as he had been worried, he couldn’t help but also be a bit disappointed by her presence.

And guilty for having spent the day with you.

She continued preparing of dinner, and Ivar took his sweet time adjusting everything about himself, such as getting out of his braces and pushing his light coat onto the coat-hanger, making less noise possible, as if a noise would have startled her into disappearing.

He felt like he was in trap, having no other option than to acknowledge her presence and she did the same with him.

With her usual smile as if nothing had happened.

But it only angered Ivar further.

“… where were you?” he asked, huffing out the question “… I was worried”.

“I was over at Ubbe’s house” and the affirmation hit Ivar in the guts, because he’d have expected his brother to at least say something, maybe to ease his smaller brother’s worries.

And worst of all: what would he have thought about Ivar letting his wife go.

“… I think we need to talk” he muttered, since Freydis was certainly ignoring the entire situation as if it hadn’t happened “… about what happened last night”.

And finally Freydis stopped her rummaging of the kitchen to look at him, her pretty clear eyes and her styled hair doing nothing of what they’d use to do on Ivar’s heart, as if it was frozen and not even her timeless beauty could make him feel better or less annoyed by her childish antics.

And her betrayal.

“I… I am sorry” mumbled Freydis, completely surprising him as he expected her to at least keep up her attitude of the previous night “… last night… I was… out of control”.

And what was worst of all was that deep down he felt annoyed by her apology.

As if he felt it wasn’t genuine.

He kept his mouth shut, playing the silence game with her as she stammered through what he’d have described as ‘excuses’:

“… I was a bit tipsy… and I… it’s shocking, isn’t it?”.

“Freydis, I am not…” he tried to formulate a thought that wouldn’t have made her feel attacked “… I am also not completely in the right, since I should have told you about it from the start but it was a shock for me too”.

“Well… but for me… think this like me, Ivar, please” she pleaded softly as she sat down in front of him “… you are pregnant and your fiancé finds out he had a child from a past relationship… would you have felt calm?”.

He certainly wouldn’t have been calm, but at the same time the possessive and mean way she had talked to him and about Eric.

“Certainly no, but I’d have asked for explanations” and then decided on the matter.

“… I wanted to, but then… you were so convinced to keep the baby in our life…” she was stammering again, as if her confusion was a sign of her heartbreak, the same way she had felt when she had discovered it “… and since you didn’t tell me I thought you wanted to keep it a secret, that you’d have discarded me for another…”.

And in that moment, finally, Freydis’ apology seemed genuine.

But mostly because he, himself could understand her train of thoughts: the worry of being replaced being one of his biggest fear.

And one hand shot out to hers to comfort her softly and she leaned in immediately.

“Freydis, I am not discarding you, I want you, I want you as my wife” he spoke, his tone slowing on every word, as she softly moved even closer to him, gently purring against his warmer body “… but Eric is my child and I don’t want to abandon him”.

And although Freydis hid well her annoyance to this, he still felt her stiffen against him, eventually getting her to simply nod, but she didn’t speak.

But it could have been worse.

And yet he thought about the afternoon with you…

… it could have been better.

---

You had managed to brighten Eric’s mood through a ‘rewatch’ of the ‘Small Avengers’ series and as the phone drilled, he immediately caught to get it, faking being Quicksilver, as your mother pretended to catch him.

But he dodged her quickly and got the ‘magical phone’, joking he had defeated Ultron as you and your mother faked being dead and defeated.

Eric proceeded to answer the phone, since he thought it might have been Phineas, calling him to chat about the game, since they usually would spend the afternoon together talking and they hadn’t been able to do it, today.

And you were very surprised when Eric thrilled an excitedly screamed: ‘mom it’s Ivar!’.

And you quickly ‘reanimated’ yourself and rushed for the phone, as your mother’s hands wrapped around Eric, and you moved to your room, in order to have a bit of privacy.

“Haven’t you had enough of us?” you joked, although you felt like choking.

“… maybe not” he shot back “… she came back”.

And Gosh it hurt.

Although you were aware that a relationship between you two wasn’t possible and you had made peace with that, still the notion that he had moved on, hurt you in a way that stole all the breath from your lungs.

It was impossible that already five years had passed.

“I am glad” your tone was pointed “… now don’t fuck it up”.

You were almost ready to close the phone in his face, when his voice kept on talking.

“I told her about Eric, and how I won’t abandon him, even though I am marrying her”.

That was unexpected, to say the least.

“… how did she take it?” you asked between tight teeth.

“Well… I think”.

“That doesn’t seem well” you shot back, with a sarcastic laugh.

“… it was either that or not being together” the ruthless voice Ivar had assumed made a shiver go down your spine “… now that I have finally found you, I am not giving up on you”.

He could have said ‘Eric’ or ‘him’ but he had chosen ‘you’.

You shouldn’t honestly overthink about it all…

… but you were overthinking it.

“Now can I talk with him?”.

Yeah, you shouldn’t overthink the entire thing.

“Just let me get him” you replied softly, as you found Eric with his ear against the door of your room “… we have had the talk”:

“That’s…” Ivar’s voice trembled lightly “… wonderful”.

You simply moved the phone onto Eric’s hands, unable to deal with this illusion any longer, as the child immediately giggled softly, and he greeted Ivar, sprinting off to his own room, but you could hear clearly when he called Ivar ‘daddy’.

And for the first time, in this whole mess, you thought that maybe it would have made less damage than you believed it would.

---

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biscuitfam · 4 years

Text

Past, Present, and Future

Summary: Being married to the Doctor has many perks as well the downfalls and the confusing paradoxical moments. Hurt though, emotional hurt, wasn’t something that came often. However there you all were. All four of you. A past, present, and future.

WC: 1880k

Pairing: 10th doctor x reader, 11th doctor x reader, River

Warnings/Tags: ANGST, mentions of cheating(?) maybe, not really.

A/N: So I might make this into a multi chapter fic, but I’m not sure. Also! I’ve decided I’m going to make a subpages for my Supernarual fics as this is primarily turning into a DW blog Also! I came up with this fic from a dream I had 😂

Part two possibly?

Also, if you enjoy my content consider buying me a ko-fi to support this broke college student > Here!

“ I don’t want to go-“ A brilliant explosion of light filled the room breaking items in its wake. The TARDIS crying in pain as she lost control and begun falling through the sky. Crying in pain alongside the Doctor who clutched his head in agony.

Then, he changed. The Doctor had changed. Every bit of him totally different. New face. New voice. New attitudes. Your future husband, then secret boyfriend, glanced up to you as he sat on his knees and hair flattened to his head. Eyes full of sorrow and longing. Regret. He changed on you, however, you knew it was coming. You didn’t expect it to be so soon.

He changed into the man you had grown to love, although pain stuck within you as you had to grow to trust him again. The man you would marry. However, currently he sat as the man you had fallen for so helplessly yet he knew nothing of this as the relationship had to be secretive.

—

It had been twelve years after crash landing in the back of Amelia Pond’s garden resulting in the demise of the shed. Little Amelia had grown into the feisty redhead who, currently harassing Rory and fondling his hair, begun to travel with you and your now husband. The road to this hadn’t been easy. Being married to the Doctor had many perks as well the downfalls and the confusing paradoxical moments. The icon trio always managed some sort of trouble that would result you, the so called ‘motherly figure’ to swoop in and save their asses.

Amy and Rory had destroyed your concept of a complete linear timeline, well, a somewhat straight timeline that is. Time was never linear. Never occurring in the exact spots and always changing to accommodate changes. Although, when Mel turned into River a wave of hurt blew through you in remembrance of th library and what could come in future’s time.

Another woman would come and shake things up with your own timeline with the Doctor in ways you would never expect. Nothing hurt you more than the night you found out he would marry River in the future, and they indeed loved each other. You may or may not have snooped in her diary some..and hell did it hurt. You found out about all the secrets, all the lies, the future they had together; and the moments that the Doctor hid from you. However, the reality did not strike fully until the notes started coming true in front of your eyes. Curiosity has certainly killed the cat.

One thing that rung clear through all her tear stained letters is that she was perusing him, not the other ways around. While it did put some hope into you, it still hurt knowing he was feeding into it and you, his wife, had to watch the play act itself out as his future would be to marry another. Even if it was ‘beneficial’ and ‘save the integrity of human life as it is’ it was a cheap shot to the self esteem. Her written words burned your eyes and heart. You had written down the bolder dates within her book to keep a record for yourself and today was the Pandorica and also the day the Doctor reboot the universe for a Big Bang Two.

Then it happened. Everything went white as the Doctor’s screams sounded. The pure agony within his screams. The unfiltered, raw screams that tore your heart completely in two and made you forget all about the hurt you were feeling that he knew nothing of. Knowing his own future would make him go out of his way to purposely change it and quite possibly muck things up in the process. Although, he did have such a soft spot for the curly haired, curvy woman already. The white light got brighter and brighter before you felt like you were being completely obliterated.

Your own screams were the last thing you heard before blackness and slumber overtook you.

—

You woke to the feel of cold metal on your skin and puffs of steam hitting the back of your legs, thus resulting in rather uncomfortable wet denim patches rubbing against your skin. A large shadow stood hovering over you quite yet calculating as you raised yourself in to proper elbows trying to focus your eyes. That was until they locked onto a pair of cream converse standing right ahead of you. Those shoes, sand shoes, were the most recognizable clothing item in space and time - well, in your opinion anyway. The Doctor would beg to differ. Part of you wanted to close your eyes and beg for this to be a dream, while another wished to never go back. This was before all the pain and future knowledge.

“ What?” He asked as you stood, eyes blown wide open now at the realization it was you, “ What? What? I don’t quite understand...what?” He pulled away slightly and threaded a hand through his hair, “ You’re not wearing a vortex manipulator, I know for a fact I have implanted that cheap time travel is dangerous. I just dropped you off at home and you managed to pop back in? Was this Jack?” The man rambled on in confusion, meanwhile you sat in the captain’s chair amused yet annoyed at the daft alien.

“ Okay, long story short for you. First, I’m from your future and your future self reset time itself thus some cosmic mistake to cause me to be thrown into my past and disrupt my timeline.” This caused the man to raise a brow before you raised a long finger, however, his eyes caught a glance at the shiny ring placed upon it. You slowly covered your hands with your sleeves and gave him a slight smirk, “ No you can’t know.”

“ Is he at least good to you, your husband?” This question caused pain in your heart, especially at the saddened look in his eyes. You remembered this. He had dropped you off at home after a rather heated argument about what the two of you were -- things were said and feeling were hurt.

“ Y/N, please come back!” The Doctor’s words echoed within your ears as you went towards the doors with backpack already in tow. You wanted more than stolen kisses and in secret sweet nothings, you wanted more than him having doge around Rose to protect her feelings that she had towards him.

“ It’s either me or her, Doctor. I don’t want to do this to you - I really, truly don’t. But I can’t sit here and watch this. It just gets hard, always being someone’s second choice. I’ll be back, I just need to..calm down.”

“ Yes he is,” You smiled and looked up to the man and waved your head to dismiss his quizzing look, “ No details. You’ve taught me well enough.” You stood and circled around the console nervously with sweaty hands rubbing together.

“ We do need to get me back to the right timeline though, if I remember right I’ll be back by morning-” You glanced to the computer screen and grimaced,“ Eight hours.”

The Doctor grabbed your had and gave it a soft squeeze his, a very comforting squeeze that caused tears to well in your eyes. He shook his head and made you stop in your wake, “ Whatever you tell me now must have been a part of my future self’s memories, correct? Y/N, tell me..what did your husband do? Why are you crying? And where am I?”

The Doctor sat with his head buried in his hands after the somewhat in depth explanation utterly baffled. How could he be so..dumb? Act so human? He went through the information once more through his head attempting to find somewhere to fix this. He still with you in his future, but he has another woman he’s destined to marry; You left out the bit that you had stolen from her journal. You knew future events before they even had, they being himself.

“ Right! Here’s what we’re going to do-” The man jumped to his feet and begun to fiddle with the switches and type in the year you were supposedly supposed to be in your time.

Present time: 1:40pm, Location, The Tarids. After the reboot things quickly got back on track and to the best field of normalcy as it could for the Ponds, however, the Doctor had hauled himself underneath the TARDIS floors in his swing. She never really needed a fixing, however, the old gal took the tinkering with the occasional groan in means to let the Doctor self sooth.

After the reboot everything had fallen back into it’s place once again with the Doctor traveling with Amy and Rory. River also being on board currently..but you were missing. It had been a few months since the reboot occurred, and he hardly slept or ate. He had become withdrawn in an attempt of searching for you that he had become blind sided about River’s intentions. She kept pushing herself in between the two of you.

“ She’s kot here anymore, sweetie. We’ve tried. Let me help you-“ Her words swirled in his head and caused him to grit his teeth. How could she be so cunning? So cruel? He never thought she could act in such a way. Surely she was flirty, but that was her nature and attitudes. The man dropped this tools to the grated floor, groaned, and placed a greasy hand over his eyes.

How could he have been so blind to you? He had noticed the signs, noticed your uncomfortable nature around the woman before the reboot occurred. He had passed it off as stress. A loud siren started blaring throughout the console room and the lights flashed red as the console was becoming compromised.

“ No, No, No! What now? What could be so bloody important to need me?” The man slipped from the swing and marched up the stairway, sliding past a River who bound down from her bedroom to see what had occurred.

“ What’s going on, Doctor? I tried to stop the signals from whatever is pulling us-“ He cut her short as he attempted to wriggle past her and get to the screens, not saying a word.

Even the emergency systems set in place were compromised. Whatever or whoever had full control over the TARDIS he couldn’t figure out.

“ There is nothing we can do, River. If I attempt to reroute is we would get thrown off course and quite possibly cause a rift-“ He gestured with his hands by holding them closed then slowly opening them, “ A rift would either swallow us all into a pocket universe or cause more timeline issues..however, it’s hard to tell. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen either way.”

The man stopped in his tracks and looked towards her with a pale face, “ The only way this may be possible is if I crossed my own timeline. I would never—“ He stopped point blank and let out a small laugh that soon escalated into a rather sad, hysterical one.

“ I remember this. This is the day I get Y/N back.”

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mahalkitajohnnysuh · 4 years

Text

Awkward

I live for moments like these, so keep on reading to know what kind of awkward I’m talking about.

Here’s a flirty, puppy-eared Johnny to hype you up!

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :)

–––

Summary: It’s all about sexual awkwardness or any semblance to it with today’s offering. It’s a bit ecchi-ish if you know your anime lingo. Essie becomes a blubbering and forgetful mess, and Johnny couldn’t help but get turned on with that.

POV: Both of these short pieces are in 3rd person, y’all.

Word count: 1,615 words

Warning: There are times that we should be candid about sex talk, and this is one of those times that I get graphic with it of some sort. And oh, italics are for thoughts.

–––

Essie and Johnny were a hot mess after filming a vlog on the different kinds of red wine.

They were both laughing on the couch, sweaty with their clothes almost in disarray. The guy has three buttons undone on his white shirt while the girl’s skirt was hiked dangerously close to her underwear.

“And to think you wanted to do this alone?” Essie panted, placing her hand on her chest. “Yeah, I know. I’ll die from embarrassment that I’ll get drunk on camera alone. I’ll be more meme-worthy,” Johnny replied, patting his girlfriend’s exposed thigh.

“We shouldn’t do this again,” the girl straightened up, letting the skirt of her silk dress cover her legs again. “This is bad for our health. I think we finished two bottles per person.” She eyed the half-empty bottles of cabernet sauvignon and merlot before turning her attention again on her boyfriend.

“I know I’m going to need more coffee than usual,” he groaned. “Please, Youngho. Lay off on the coffee. Your cum will taste even bitter if you drink more than a liter, I swear.”

Essie was caught off-guard with the last words she said and clamped a hand over her mouth immediately. Her eyes widened in shock, jolting her a bit out of her drunkenness. Shit, did I just say that out loud?

Unfortunately, Johnny heard her loud and clear. “So, my baby doesn’t like how my cum tastes?” He moved closer to her, his hands wiggling in anticipation to touch her thighs again.

“John, please,” she grumbled, moving farther on the couch. “What do you suppose I drink then? You know what Mark said, right?” Her boyfriend’s voice sounded lower than usual – he was in the mood to torture, er, taunt her until she accepts defeat.

“Coffee without Johnny isn’t coffee, and Johnny without coffee isn’t Johnny,” both of them said, with Essie rolling her eyes at the end, and Johnny staring intently at her face.

“See? You know how I’m inseparable from coffee,” the guy didn’t stop moving forward, “so what do you suggest I eat or drink then?”

“John, I swear to God!” Essie hit the end of the sofa, “If only you listened to me and drank pineapple juice whenever we did it, then I wouldn’t be complaining like this!”

She was surprised at the words that tumbled out of her mouth again and buried her face in her hands. I am a worse drunk when I have wine instead of beer, damn it.

“Pineapple juice? Maybe you’d like watermelon juice too! So, fruit juice then?” Johnny stopped perusing her and leaned on the couch.

“If possible, yes. I want to taste something else, love. Your cum’s like battery acid,” Essie groaned, mimicking his action of leaning on the sofa.

He laughed at her response. “Seriously, baby? Where is this all coming from? You’re funny,” he patted her knee, which was within his arm’s reach, “And do you really want to know how yours taste like?”

“Please, spare me the details. I don’t want to know.”

“Yours taste like bitter fish paste.”

His answer earned a pillow thrown on his face. “I said I didn’t want to know!” The girl whined, pouting and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Hey, it’s fair! You commented on how mine tastes like, why can’t I comment on what yours tastes like?”

Essie just huffed and glared at him. “Come on, be a good sport!” Johnny resumed moving closer to her. “Or else I’ll fill you up with my battery acid.”

The girl wasn’t able to do anything once her boyfriend tackled her. “Let’s rev you up, okay?”

“Yes, sir. Please start me up.”

///

If there was another member from the group that Essie had a special connection with, it was Taeil.

After all, they lived close to a month with Jaehyun before the affair and bonded over their love for Frank Ocean and cats among many other things. Whenever he was out, she took care of Ying and Yang, his adorable black and white kittens.

Since it has been some time since the two met up along with their other friends, the girl couldn’t help but tackle him. “Moon Taeilllll!” She cried, almost jumping on him as she hugged him tightly. The tomato-haired guy laughed at her enthusiasm and hugged her back. “Hey, Essie noona! It’s been a while!” He said, drawing circles on her back to calm her down.

“Yes, I know! How are you, Moony? How are our fur babies?” She clasped her hands together in glee as she continued talking to Taeil, which was getting on Johnny’s nerves.

Lest we forget, Essie has been dating Johnny for a couple of months now. They’ve been through a lot – yes, do we need to be reminded of their affairs? – and for him to see her gushing at his hyung irritated him.

What made him almost lose his temper was that her short skirt went a bit up, and he saw a sliver of lace trimming when she hugged Taeil excitedly. At first, he didn’t want to think much of it. But yes, she forgot to put on a pair of cycling shorts and flashed almost everyone with her underwear.

He looked at his friends if they saw the same thing, but alas, they were all in their worlds. Yuta and Jungwoo were teasing each other, while Doyoung and his girlfriend were talking to Haechan in hushed tones. It was just Johnny who observed everything, and he wished that Mark was already there so he’ll have someone to talk to.

\\\

Essie didn’t mean to make Johnny jealous, but she felt that he was fuming because of how touchy she was with Taeil.

Who couldn’t be when he’s such a lovable and huggable friend? If she remembered correctly, her boyfriend mentioned wished that he had his hyung’s body because it was huggable.

Not that Johnny’s body was built in the same way, but the downside of having rock-solid abs is that the body lacks softness and warmth sometimes. There were times his hugs didn’t feel warm enough for her, and she had to stay in his arms for hours just to reach that level of warmth she wanted. No wonder she loved cuddling with Jaehyun more when they sneaked out before since he had more body heat despite having more defined abs.

As she continued to gush to Taeil about the latest cat Instagram accounts she found, she noticed that her boyfriend looked sullen as he listened to Mark. The younger guy arrived late with Taeyong, as both came from another project they were involved in.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you showing these adorable accounts, but I think you should talk to your boyfriend,” Taeil whispered, noticing how Johnny grunted in response to Taeyong’s question.

“I can talk to him later,” she huffed, scrolling through her phone quicker. “He’s a big boy. I’m focused on all these cute cat IG accounts that I think you should see and follow.”

“Noona, don’t be stubborn. Look at him,” he tilted her head towards Johnny’s direction, “he’s jealous of the attention you’re giving me. And like everyone else in the room, I don’t want to incite his wrath.”

The six-footer was now brooding in a corner, with Mark and Taeyong conversing with the other members. Oh God, how can I blame him for not being jealous after all we’ve been through? She thought before finally standing up and going to his location.

“Hey, my love,” Essie started, sitting down beside him. He didn’t move from his spot, but he put up the hood in his jacket to cover his profile. “Hey yourself,” he grumbled, tucking his knees to his chest.

“Are you jealous of how I’m interacting with Taeil?” She went straight to the point, which stunned Johnny a little. He was used to her mincing words every time she tried to apologize for her behavior. He tried to hide his shock by burying his chin into his knees.

“Yeah, baby. I am. I know you have a special friendship, but I can’t help but be jealous of other guys you act very chummy with. Considering, you know…” He was fiddling with his thumbs this time, a sign that he was unsure of the next things he wanted to say.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t mean to. It’s been a while since I last saw him too, and you know how much I love his kitties. So please, don’t think bad of it, okay?” Essie tugged the hood away from his face and cupped his cheeks in both of her hands.

He looked like he was about to cry, and she couldn’t help but kiss both of his puffed-up cheeks. “I love you, dummy. And I’m sorry that I made you jealous. It wasn’t my intention, I promise.”

“I’ll try my best not to be overly jealous, but baby…” He pulled her into his arms until she was sitting on his lap, “please don’t forget to wear your cycling shorts. You almost flashed everyone with your panties.”

Her eyes widened in fear, and she held onto the hem of her skirt. “Oh my God, I did forget to wear my shorts. No wonder it felt so breezy down there,” she murmured, giving Johnny an apologetic look. “Sorry, my love! It won’t happen again.”

He responded by smacking her bottom before carrying her over his shoulder. “You know what to do to make it up to me, right?” He asked sternly as he readjusted his hold on her.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, ignoring the eyes that looked at her as Johnny brought her to a spare room.

–––

FIN

P.S. Weren’t those weak-ass endings? Or is it okay for you guys?

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ridiculousn3sswrites · 4 years

Text

Friday: The Vote - Student Council Pt. 7

*Lafayette x Reader

*Summary: After the longest week of her life, the vote on the semester budget finally arrives.

*Warnings: Mentions of blackmail, accusations. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: And that concludes the Student Council series! I really liked writing this one, even if it took me forever to finish it.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven

Outfit || My Ko-fi if you wanna support my writing

**********

A week has never taken so long to pass before. If you had to guess how long it took to get to the vote, you would’ve guessed a year before you guessed it had only been a week. As you stepped out of your house that morning, Lafayette waiting for you outside, you couldn’t help but feel a little sinking feeling. You just needed to get through the vote, and then this entire mess would be over. Well, until the spring budget vote. “Are you ready, cherie?” Laf asked, going to open your door for you.

“Yeah, I’m ready for this week to be over already. I know I dug my own grave here, but why was it so tiring?” You asked with a slight whine as you got in the car.

“Because you spent most of the week lying to an entire class of wannabe politicians,” Laf supplied. You groaned instead of actually answering him, knowing he was right. Leave it to your boyfriend to not sugarcoat anything at the time you actually wanted him to. “Just finish the vote and then we can put this behind us. We can go for coffee and then watch some movies after school if you want, cherie.”

“That sounds nice. The group isn’t doing anything tonight?”

“If Alexander’s budget passes then Eliza wants the group to get pizza and hang out tonight. If it doesn’t, then we don’t,” Laf said. “That’s only if you want to, though. I know this week’s been difficult, even if I told you how to make it not difficult.”

You rolled your eyes at the little I told you so dig he not-so-subtly slid in there. “So I guess our plans depend on how I’m going to vote then.”

“Relax, cherie. Everything is going to work out. Do you want to get breakfast?”

“I mean, we’ll probably be late if we stop, but you’re the driver,” you gave in. Lafayette shot you a small smile as he pulled out of your driveway, thoughts already filled with the promise of the fast food breakfast quickly finished in the car while the two of you sat in the parking lot. You were surprised when you actually got to school with time to spare after you’d gotten your food. A quick little breakfast had you feeling better than when you’d left your house.

You and Laf walked into the school, and the nerves were beginning to return. You didn’t really know why there were nerves; after all, you’d made your decision, you knew how you were going to vote. No matter which way you voted, you wouldn’t really face repercussions. The only benefit to refusing to participate in the factions was the fact that - since your vote was never guaranteed - neither faction wanted to truly get on your bad side. Even though you resolved the rumors with Jefferson yesterday, you still felt like he’d pull something over on you during class. If he somehow managed to prove Burr’s claims, he’d ruin your credibility in an instant.

Just get through the vote, and then nothing will matter anymore. What was it that actual politicians did since ASB members seemed to think themselves as such? Oh, right; deny, deny, deny. You didn’t think Burr would try to push this entire thing further, especially since Jefferson told him to drop it. Unless that’s just what Jefferson said in front of you before you left so you would think you were safe, and then asked Burr to look into his claims. You had to stop yourself, you were beginning to sound like a conspiracy theorist here. You were just in your mind almost all morning, first period passing in a blur, and second period passing by in almost the same way.

You must have been zoned out, because when Eliza tried to get your attention, you were slower than usual to respond. At the second call of your name, you finally turned and gave a little hm of acknowledgement. “Are you okay? You’ve been out of it,” Eliza asked, looking at you with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just nervous about the vote,” you admitted. You could let Eliza in on your secret, but would she tell Alexander? This entire thing was just getting you further into your mind, were you really questioning Eliza’s loyalty? “Do you remember how I had to speak with Burr, Madison, and Jefferson yesterday?”

“Yeah. You said something about Burr thinking you were more devious or something, right?” Eliza clarified, that look of concern still there. “I thought you solved that.”

“Yeah, well, Burr was accusing me of withholding my vote to gain special favors from both sides,” you told her. “I had my vote, but I didn’t want to say anything because I needed them to work with me instead of fighting each other. You know how they get when they’re trying to outdo each other.”

“I know, especially since I’m dating one. Even if you’d said you didn’t want to say what your vote was, they would have still tried to sway you. Don’t tell him I told you this, but Alex said there wasn’t any time to try to change your mind so he was going to leave it be. I mean, he also said since you took so long you were definitely voting for the budget, but that’s something else,” Eliza explained.

“Do you think they’ll hold it against me if they find out? Like, I didn’t do what Burr thinks I did, but if they find out I was withholding my decision, I don’t know what would happen,” you told her. Having someone other than Laf to talk this through was already doing wonders for you. It also helped that Eliza had a much gentler approach to your admission, whereas Lafayette essentially took the told you so route. Eliza paused for a second, looking around the room before she answered.

“I don’t think they will, but I would still tread carefully. Aaron has nothing solid against you, and I’m guessing you only told me and Laf, so your secret should be safe. Is there anything else I should know?”

“No, that’s everything. I just really wanted them to work with me, I wasn’t asking for any special favors or considerations.”

“I know you weren’t, you conducted everything as you normally do,” Eliza told you, placing her hand on top of yours. It was really getting into the politics part of ASB, and you were starting to get worried. The way Eliza dealt with these things was always gentler than the others, but that didn’t mean she was any less capable. “Since you didn’t receive any special benefits during this week, even with the sign offs that happened, Burr can’t pin his accusations on you. If he brings it up again, deflect and point out that you didn’t ask anything out of the ordinary while going through with this pep rally.”

“Right. You’re really good at damage control,” you complimented. Eliza smiled.

“I’ve learned from experience. Alexander’s lack of finesse and inability to apologize due to pride really gave me opportunities,” she joked. Well, you could tell it was supposed to be a joke but it wasn’t all there. “But don’t worry so much. Just one more period, then we can do the vote and put this behind us. It’s just a rumor, don’t let it get to you. Once it gets to you, that’s when people get suspicious.”

“Right, right.” You nodded, taking in Eliza’s words. “I know you’re good for this, but promise to keep this between us?”

“Of course. I’m not going to risk the chair of the committee getting removed,” Eliza told you. “Okay, so we need to get back to this assignment. I’d really rather not have homework over the weekend. Especially if we’re hanging out tonight.”

“Nice try. You’ll find out during the vote.”

**********

Third period passed without much fanfare, the talk with Eliza really helping to soothe your nerves. When you walked out of class, Laf was there waiting for you. “Are you ready?” he asked, reaching for your hand.

“I’m about as ready as I’m going to be,” you said. “I was talking to Eliza and she really helped calm me down. How long do you think the vote’s going to take?”

“The vote itself won’t take long, it never does. It’s just everything else that’s going to make class seem like forever,” Laf humored you. “You’ll still have to stay in class after we’re done voting.”

“Damn, you just ruined my plans to walk out of class after I casted my vote,” you joked. Once the two of you reached the classroom, you took a deep breath. Just one hour, then you’d be done with this damn vote. You’d be free until you had to do this again in January with the spring semester budget vote. When you thought to the next budget vote, you definitely knew what you wouldn’t be doing.

“(Y/n), can I speak to you?” Jefferson asked the second you walked into the room. You shot a nervous look at Laf before schooling your features into a calm facade.

“Of course,” you said, walking up to Jefferson. “May I ask what this is about?”

“James printed the waivers for you, so here are those,” Jefferson told you, handing you a few papers. “Now, I just wanted to ask if there’s any truth to the accusations Burr brought to me yesterday. We spoke more yesterday and he pointed out that your budget for the pep rally was raised when you were still undecided.”

“Thomas, I’m well aware of the allegations against me. I didn’t ask for anything out of the ordinary during this planning from you or Alexander, including those funds. If I were actually pushing for these favors as Burr is suggesting, I would not have conducted business as usual. You know how I go about planning pep rallies, this one was no different,” you explained, sure to hit the points Eliza had gone over with you earlier. “I’ll be glad to answer any questions, but I know I did not ask for special favors during this. I simply did not have my decision made, I was not scheming to manipulate you.”

“I just had to look into it, you know how it is,” Jefferson apologized without saying as much. “I looked over the pep rally documents, it sounds like it will be fun. I look forward to seeing this through.”

“Thank you, I wanted to do something big for my first rally,” you said with a nod. “I’m going back to my committee now.”

“Of course.” With that, you were dismissed to join Eliza and Peggy. The three of you shared idle chatter, joking about things to come over the weekend once the vote was over. There was the slight prodding about how you were going to vote, but you just teased that they’d find out soon enough. It didn’t take long for Washington to come in and call the class to attention. The agenda for the day was simple enough: pep rally updates from your committee, outreach updates from other committees, explanations from the groups for and against the budget (so just Alexander and Thomas arguing), and then the vote.

You got through the pep rally updates fairly quickly, explaining what got approved and the expected schedule for completing the preparations for the rally. Outreach efforts were coming in with low interest, but the hope was for the pep rally to change that. Finally, it got to the debate that almost no one really wanted to see, but Alexander and Thomas definitely wanted to have. With a reminder from Washington to remain civil and school-appropriate, the two were off. You didn’t really listen to the debate, it was all things you’d heard before in the passing jabs between the two of them.

Washington stopped them after about ten minutes, probably just annoyed with listening to the two of them again. Once he was finally able to get them to settle down - which definitely took a few more minutes - he turned to the rest of the class. “Okay, everyone, I hope those arguments answered any questions you may have had or helped you decide if you weren’t already sure of your vote. We’ll take a minute before proceeding with the vote.”

Bold of Washington to assume everyone hadn’t already been forced to make up their minds. There was little chatter, and you could definitely tell John was taking the time to try to calm Alexander down. As the break was getting closer to ending, you could feel the nerves starting up again. All you would have to do was raise your hand, but with everything that happened this week, that seemed like such a giant thing. “Alright, everyone, settle down. All in favor of the budget, raise your hand.”

Hands started going up around the class, and you could tell Alexander was watching you. You raised your hand. Once you’d read through the proposal, it had been a fairly easy decision. Alexander’s explanations for why funds were going to be allocated the way they were, despite taking ages to read, were thorough and made sense. The numbers added up, just as you’d expect them to. It just made sense, and forcing Alexander to make another proposal would just set the entire class back by at least another week. You could see Alexander immediately brighten up when he saw your hand go up, and you knew he had the vote. The budget was going to pass.

Madison noted down the votes, with the count confirmed by Washington. The ‘no’s were next, and everyone expected voted against the bill. Madison once again took note of the votes, and Washington confirmed. Alexander’s budget passed with two votes to spare, and you could see the slight annoyance from Jefferson. Class released a few minutes after the vote, and immediately you were surrounded by your friends. “Really? All that just to vote for the budget?” John asked.

“Alexander’s budgets are always well done, did you really think I’d disapprove?” you asked back.

“If you found something wrong, yes,” Eliza jumped in without any hesitation.

“I’m offended you’d think something would be wrong with my budget,” Alexander pouted. “I worked hard on it.”

“I know you did,” Eliza said with mock sympathy as she placed her hand of Alex’s arm. “Okay, so we’re hanging out at mine tonight then?”

“Did you ask mom?” Peggy asked.

“Yeah, I told her we might do something. Is everyone in?”

Lafayette turned to you expectantly; it was your call if the two of you went. He knew the week had been a long one, and he wanted to give you the chance to relax if you needed to. You smiled at Eliza. “Of course. I need to get my mind on something other than this damn budget.”

**********

Tag List: @snazzydoesthings, @bagpipes606, @a-hopeless-fan

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness

#lafayette x reader #lafayette imagine #hamilton imagine #reader insert

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mtvswatches · 4 years

Text

Friends 2x08 The One With The List

Previous Recaps

In a nutshell: Everyone finds out about THE KISS. Chandler buys a laptop. Ross writes a list. Monica works for Mockolate. There’s a lot of staring at the rain out the window while U2 plays in the background.

Chandler: Chandler gets a new laptop and he’s obsessed, and honestly? Same. He then comes up with the idea that Ross should create a PROS/CONS list for both Julie and Rachel so that he can decide who to be with… because that’s exactly how all matters of the heart should be decided, right? To Chandler’s credit, he feels terribly sorry for coming up with the idea of the list and for not thinking on his feet and preventing Rachel from reading it (not that she didn’t deserve to know, but she deserved to have her feelings spared, you know?)

Joey: Joey’s solution for Ross’s conundrum? Threesome. But he’s the biggest fangirl once Ross breaks up with Julie and Rachel shows up at the apartment. I always loved Joey’s softer side.

Monica: Monica gets a job for Mockolate, creating Thanksgiving recipes. It’s a somewhat “comic” – in the “I know this is supposed to make me go haha” sense – relief in the midst of all the Ross-Rachel drama. Mockolate doesn’t get the FDA approval in the end, but Monica earns her pay anyway. And she also probably got some side effects.

Phoebe: Ross asks Phoebe to play a song in order to defuse the awkwardness of the situation - Julie showing up at the coffee shop, oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend had been smooching with Rachel the night before. Phoebe then played the iconic song “Two of Them Kissed Last Night”. HE MUST DECIDE.

Rachel: Rachel shares her excitement with the girls about THE KISS. Her exhilaration quickly dwindles, though, as she sees how A) Ross is still with Julie and hasn’t either told her about them nor has he broken up with her, and B) Ross hasn’t called her. Ross was already making her question her own worth. In the end, Ross kind of made up his mind, and Rachel is so happy that he’s going to get her coat, and then she sees the list on the computer (how contrived was the way she had to parade herself all through the apartment in order for her to face the computer and read what was on the screen? Why didn’t they just leave the computer on the kitchen counter? Did the computer have to be next to the printer, is that why?) And then the printer starts working. The boys try to distract her, but it’s too late, she saw her name there and she needs to know what it was about. Rachel OBVIOUSLY outsmarts them, and ends up reading the list. Kind of ditzy. Too into her looks. Spoiled. Just a waitress. Ouch. She’s disappointed and hurt, and rightfully so. To this day, Rachel words still hit close to home: “Imagine the worst things you think about yourself. Now, how would you feel if the one person that you trusted the most in the world not only thinks them too, but actually uses them as reasons not to be with you.” There’s no worse feeling in the world than having someone you love spew at you the most awful things you think of yourself but try to convince yourself are not true – when they say those things, it’s confirmation that they’re true, and that you’re not good enough. I applaud Rachel for standing her ground and not letting Ross walk all over her. But it’s painful to watch her be so heartbroken.

Ross: I see how the contrast they showed between the girls and the boys reacting to Ross and Rachel’s kiss is supposed to be funny, but who are we kidding? Ross would actually act like one of the girls. This is the guy who has been holding a torch for the same girl SINCE THE 9TH FUCKING GRADE. Am I really supposed to buy that he would just be: “oh yeah I kissed her, tongue, yeah”? REALLY? He’s been DREAMING about this moment for YEARS, literally. I’d say he would be a tad more excited, right? While he is excited about the prospect of being with Rachel, he is still very much in a committed relationship with Julie. They were about to get a cat, remember? And this is the episode where Ross’s “Nice Guy” schtick starts to show. He says he feels all torn about it, but if he truly were, he would’ve told Julie what happened the previous night. Instead, he continues to pretend everything is okay with Julie while making Rachel feel like the other woman. He was the one who came back to the coffee shop, remember? He was the one in a relationship, who shouldn’t have cheated on their partner, right? Anyway, Ross follows Chandler’s advice to compile a list comparing Julie and Rachel. And while it is sweet how Julie’s biggest con was that she was not Rachel, the whole comparison thing is simply despicable – especially considering how quickly he came up with the list of flaws for Rachel. Eventually, he does the right thing – sort of – and breaks things off with Julie. Goodbye, Julie. You won’t be missed, but you were a nice girl who deserved much better than Ross Geller. Ross thought he could have his cake and eat it too, but Rachel did not want anything to do with him after reading his list. He then climbs into the girls’ balcony, with a list of all the things he loves about Rachel. Which would’ve been an amazing romantic gesture. You know, if he hadn’t written that other list in the first place. There’s no convincing Rachel, though. Ross reasons that if things were the other way around, there was nothing she could’ve said that would make him not want to be with her. Which is 100% unverifiable. There’s no way to know he would’ve been so mighty. Actually, considering how petty he can be, I’d wager he wouldn’t let it go, but whatever. His argument is proven invalid, though, when Rachel argues that she would never write the list in the first place. Ross gives it one last shot – he sends a song request to a radio show, with a message for Rachel. But not even the radio host is on Ross’s side.

One Iconic Scene:

Ross and Rachel’s first break-up in front of the whole gang.

Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi. Thanks!

#F.R.I.E.N.D.S.#friends #Ross Geller #Rachel Green #Jennifer Aniston #Ross and Rachel #FRIENDS 2x08 #the one with the list #FRIENDS recap #recap #mine

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all-hailtheking · 5 years

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Hello King!! Can I ask for Soundwave x Human! Reader? Maybe a little bit of angst but ends with fluff? It can be any form you want (headcannons etc) Also! Congratulations on creating a blog!! Can't wait to see more lovely works from you!

(Hiya, thank you for the love! I’m glad you enjoy my writing so far. I hope you like this! 🌺💜🌺)

Imagine Soundwave’s S/O being taken by the Autobots

Standing in the middle of the Jasper, Nevada’s empty and rock-filled landscape would have been a whole lot nicer if the Autobots didn’t come when they did. You were supposed to be stargazing with Soundwave, but apparently, the world wasn’t in the mood for that. Standing on top of one of the many rocky columns found in the nowhere deserts of Jasper, Soundwave and you were enjoying some much-needed silence away from the boisterous Nemesis. Both of you recognized the sound of a ground-bridge opening and were then greeted by the roar of several engines.

Bumblebee, Arcee, and Optimus Prime we’re now aiming their blasters at the TIC. “Soundwave, leave the human child alone or we will be forced to take fire.” Soundwave simply shook his helm and opened a ground-bridge next to him. He then gently picked you up with his slender digits and casually walked through it as if nothing had happened. “We can’t just let the Decepticons keep that human. There’s no telling what they’ll do!” Arcee grumbles to herself and her teammates. “We will rescue the human, Arcee. Ratchet, we need a ground-bridge. Soundwave has returned to the Nemesis.” Optimus states. The only reply he had was an agitated mumble of, “I just sent you there…”

“Soundwave, I’ve gotta go! I can’t miss another day of work!” You say, attempting to persuade the silent mech. His only response was yet another shake of his helm as he continued to type away on his monitors. Of course, he knew you needed to go, but he had to be cautious now that the Autobots knew of his human. He wasn’t letting you out of his sights. No Autobot was going to take what he claimed as his own. He had lost too much already, so adding you to that list was a no go.

“Soundwave, I’m going to get fired if I don’t leave soon! They probably think I’m playing hooky and I need this job in order for me to have food. Please, I’ll be careful! You can even have Breakdown take me if you don’t feel comfortable with me going alone.” This time he stays silent and makes no movement to indicate his response. His digits stop typing and his helm raises up slightly. Soundwave then puts to digits to his helm and seems to relay a message to someone using broken audio fragments. Next, he turns towards you and nods, though he slightly flinches when he sees Breakdown make his way into the central command.

“You commed, Soundwave?” The bulkier blue mech spoke with a slight hint of confusion. “You shall- escort- (Y/n) to- her- work-.” Breakdown nodded his head and quickly transformed into his vehicle mode. “Sure thing. Hop on in, (Y/n).” You merely agreed and waved goodbye and blew a kiss towards Soundwave. A large blue and green ground-bridge opened before the blue-clad vehicle, causing said cybertronian to rev his engines.

After an hour of driving with Breakdown, you both finally arrived at work. “Thanks again, Breakdown. You’re a true blessing.” “Not a problem. Call me on my commlink, or contact Soundwave, when your shift is over.” He spoke, opening his passenger door. “Alright. See you later.” He then left as you began to head inside the KO Burger. Of course, being a manager had its perks, but you couldn’t abandon the fast food joint to your immature coworkers.

“Hey, Jack. I need you to man the drive-through. Amanda, I need you and Tim to man the registers. Everyone else, you know where to go.” As everyone began to make the way to their respective positions, you found Jack walking up to you. “What’s the matter, Jack?” The teen simply shrugged his shoulders. “I needed to talk to you, but I guess we’ll have to do that later. Is that alright?” You simply nodded and went to go talk to your boss.

After what felt like an hour, you were already done with your shift. As you were walking out of the burger joint, you find yourself without a ride. Darn your forgetful mind. “Hey, (Y/n). Remember how I need to talk to you?” ‘Nice, that’s two in a row.’ You thought to yourself. Quickly turning on your heels and made your way towards the black-haired boy. “Sure thing. Whatcha wanna talk about?” You ask, walking towards him and his motorcycle. “Where have you been recently? I know you don’t have to work every day, but you’ve nearly missed a week’s worth. Is something up?” He asks, concerned. “No, just had some family matters pop up that I had to deal with. My boyfriend was also being really protective. He had some stuff happen and didn’t trust letting me leave until he felt I would be safe.”

The Darby boy nodded. “Well, how about I take you home? Your ride doesn’t seem to be here.” I chuckle and shake my head. “Nah, don’t worry. He’ll be here soon. I just have to let him know that my shift is over.” The black-haired boy was then slightly pushed forward from some strange force. He then mumbled under his breathe towards the bike, “What the heck was that for, Arcee?” You tilted your head in confusion, only catching a few words. You didn’t trust this anymore; not when he made mention of an Autobot’s name.

“Well, I’m gonna go call him. Thanks anyway, Jack.” You say as you wave to the teen and walk back over to the fast-food building. “(Y/n), wait. I can stay with you until he shows up. I don’t wanna leave you alone; even though you’re an adult… I just don’t want you waiting alone.” He said, shaking his head from embarrassment. You rolled your eyes and shrugged. “Do what you wanna do.” His eyes then meet yours with a blushing smile.

Taking your phone out, you dial Breakdown’s commlink, knowing he’d be a better pick up than Soundwave because Jack is still present. “Hey, can you come and get me? My shift just ended. Yeah, take the back route. I know it’s safer for you that way.” You said, using your own code so that he knew not to ground bridge in close by. “Remember to wear your seatbelt, alright? I don’t need you getting caught without it.” “I’ll be sure to have it around me. See ya soon. BD out.” He replied. “Jack, my ride will be here in a few minutes. You can head home now.” “No, I said I’d wait until your ride got here.” What a hardheaded kid.

As you saw Breakdown pulling in, you saw a nice green Jeep following suit. You then begin to hop into the car, only to be pulled out of it by two teens. “(Y/n), it’s not safe!” Jack yells as he and Miko yank you back. “(Y/n)!” Breakdown’s holoform hollers, hopping out of his vehicle mode, only to be stopped by a tall black man in a green t-shirt. “We’re taking the human with us. She doesn’t belong with you, Decepticons.” The teens then put you into the back of Bulkhead’s vehicle mode. “Jack, you could be fired and reported for kidnap if you don’t let me out!” Jack only gulps and runs back over to Arcee.

Bulkhead then revs his engine as his holoform fizzles out and Miko climbs in. Your form gets wrapped tightly in your seat belt by your captor. Breakdown speeds after them, attempting to ram into the Green Autobot, only to completely miss as they take a sharp turn. “GIVE HER BACK, BULKHEAD!” The blue-clad Decepticon yells. “Never! Humans aren’t toys to be played with! She is safer away from you cons,” Bulkhead calls as he and Arcee enter a large ground-bridge, most likely heading towards their base. “Soundwave. They have her.”

Oh, he is beyond pissed. Soundwave has been through enough loss in his long life. Losing you is the final straw. He opens a ground-bridge and allows Breakdown to return to his hab-suite. He’s going to find you, even if it’s the last thing he does.

As everyone enters the Autobot base, Bulkhead is quick to get you out of his vehicle mode. “Stop kicking me! I’m trying to help you!” You kick his center consol one more time before being forced out. “You aren’t helping anyone! I was happy where I was and who I was with! You can’t just kidnap someone! Jack and whatever that chick’s name is could be facing time in a juvenile detention center for this!” You scream, pointing at the two teenagers. “Child, you are safer here than with the Decepticons-”

“Like hell, I am! I’m not a child! I’m a full-grown adult! You just kidnapped me from my workplace in broad daylight while my friend was trying to take me back to my boyfriend, and you’re telling me you’re safer?! So what if I’m friends with a Decepticon!? You have no right to take me somewhere without my consent!” Optimus then attempts to speak again, but you cut him off in a full rage. “I have been living with the Decepticons for the past three years and they have yet to do me wrong, yet! You haven’t even known me for two minutes and you’ve already kidnapped me and claim to be the better choice!”

“I understand your lack of trust in us after being taken here against your will. My teammates never meant to cause you any harm. They were trying to protect you from the Decepticons. We have been enemies with them for a long time now, so we wish not to have you harmed in a war you have no need in being apart of.” Optimus speaks, his voice gentle and sincere. “Then, I would greatly appreciate being returned to them. If you wish to see me safe so badly and have me take no part in this, then let me be with the Decepticons. Taking me away from them is causing more problems than I think you really see. I was happy and safe there. I was not their toy, as ludicrous as it sounds. ”

After speaking with Optimus more, you were able to have him let you go as long as he swore to leave me off the battlefields. “Just open a ground-bridge to a random location in Nevada. Soundwave will find me and take me back.” As unhappy as the Autobots are about your choice of sides, they seem to understand why you were upset. You had grown attached to the inhabitants of the Nemesis. They were family to you. Now, you need to return to Soundwave. Your energy was dropping quickly after the massive amount of emotional stress that today had brought. Maybe you could snuggle up against Soundwave’s neck? Just, resting close to him makes you feel so very comfortable and at ease.

Opening yet another ground-bridge, you have the Autobot Leader following behind you. Optimus Prime is the first to exit the swirling green and blue portal. Not two minutes later, Soundwave is found flying in. Mid-air, the purple, and black mech transforms and lands before both you and the Prime. “You will return- (Y/n)- to me-, Prime!” Different audio recordings speak for Soundwave. Optimus begins to walk forward, only to be forced to the ground by one of Soundwave’s tentacle-like appendages in a quick and harsh slam. “(Y/n) can- walk- to me- alone.” Optimus’ only reply is a groan of pain as he doesn’t struggle beneath the Soundwave’s grasp. You then begin to walk towards your beloved mech with a bright smile. “They didn’t hurt me, ‘Wave. It was all an attempt to rescue me from you all, but they know where I belong now.” Soundwave merely nodded and picked you up as he released Optimus. He then transformed around you and took you back to the Nemesis without another word.

As Optimus began to pick himself up, he questions in a mumbling tone to himself. “Why would Megatron send Soundwave to retrieve this human? What is (Y/n)’s importance to them?”

Once both of you returned to the Nemesis, Soundwave returns to his bipedal form with you in his servo. A quiet chuckle leaves your lips as his digits begin to gently press against your exposed skin. His visor turns to life once more, but a purple smiley face appears. His servo then raises to his shoulder to allow you to sit; instead of him holding you like a maraca. You quickly climb on and snuggle up against his neck. “Thank you for getting me, ‘Wave.” Carefully, he nods back and lets his digits gently rub the top of your head.

“How did you find me so quickly?” You ask in a tired tone, beginning to get tired because of how relaxing Soundwave’s digits are on your scalp. “Response: Will never stop looking for you.” With a large grin on your sleepy face, you calmly rise from your curled up position, only to place a gentle kiss on the side of Soundwave’s visor. “Thank you.”

((This fic is 2,180 words long and I am PROUD!))

(I hope you all enjoyed! I’m sorry this took so long, but I am extremely proud of how this turned out! I had so much fun writing this!🌺💜 Thank you @honeysugacube for requesting and being patient!)

#soundwave fluff #soundwave #soundwave angst #angst #fluff #all hailtheking #tfp soundwave #tfp #thank you for requesting!#request #imagine #soundwave imagine #transformers prime

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stellacolletore · 4 years

Text

08.26.2020

oneechan, let’s eat! anime: chihayafuru characters: mashima rika, mashima taichi/ayase chihaya, mashima oligo, mashima reiko, oe kanade, komano tsutomu, nishida yusei, hanano sumire summary: for Rika Mashima, meals with Chihaya-neesan is always something to look forward to. notes: zero spoilers (aka everything’s headcanon, compliant with the mizusawa series)

Their first meal together is a memory she only remembers from a photograph.

She’s been staring at said photograph for a while now, initial objective in leafing through the old family photo album promptly abandoned. Accomplishing the assignment for character development class could wait; this surprise has to be dealt with first. ASAP.

Because no matter which angle she looks at it, the picture still appears like it’s taken from an alternate universe.

Admittedly, the notion sounds over-the-top for a simple snapshot of a supposedly normal lunch in the Mashima household from five years ago. Especially with their dining area remaining unchanged, pieces of chinaware retaining their meticulously-curated pattern on the cupboards. She and Taichi-niisan sitting on the same ends of the table. Truly, everything is familiar, except for one thing: Chihaya-neesan had been occupying the spot next to her older brother.

It’s not that Chihaya-neesan is a stranger to Rika that the discovery of her dining with them before is something wholly unexpected. Quite the opposite, actually―Rika adores Oniisan's then-best friend. Cheerful and always in the mood for playing whatever game Rika requests (much unlike her annoying Oniisan), Chihaya-neesan brightens his bedroom whenever she’s around.

That’s where the surprise comes from, though. In her memories, Rika has only ever seen Chihaya-neesan in that room―and for a reason both the Mashima siblings fully understand. Okasan can be intimidating. It figures that Chihaya-neesan would only breathe well once she’s well out of range of their mom’s trademark laser glare.

But this photo is solid proof that there had been a day―or were they days? ―when Okasan wasn’t Mrs. Pressure in Chihaya-neesan’s eyes. The wide-toothed smile of hers, perfectly matching Oniisan’s, reflects that well enough.

It’s also evidence that there had been a day―at least―when Chihaya-neesan wasn’t on the receiving end of her mother’s barely concealed disapproval. The corresponding serene smile on Okasan’s face in the photograph says it, too.

After snapping a picture of it, she excitedly heads upstairs to Oniisan’s room. Look, Taichi-niisan, she intends to say. Let’s have fun with Chihaya-neesan again. Don’t you miss her, too?

The doorknob is turned halfway when an unfamiliar voice from the inside cuts her motion short. “Ta-kun, when are you going to invite me to your house? It’s what normal boyfriends do, you know.”

Rika’s mind turns up blank fast enough for her to miss Taichi-niisan’s reply, before filling up with a sick sense of dread at the mental image that appears afterwards.

It’s the same one as the photograph she’s been holding minutes before, only that instead of Chihaya-neesan, it’s an unknown girl who’s smiling beside her brother.

Rika’s not in the least surprised in finding out how she doesn’t like the image. At all.

ii.

You’ll be paying for this, Taichi-niisan’s glare tells her. You’ll be thanking me for this, Rika’s playful ones reply.

The doorbell rings, and in a flash, Oniisan’s expression switches from embarrassed annoyance into embarrassed anxiety. Her mischievous expression slips, too―she’s not that sadistic, after all. Of course she’s also feeling nervous about this. But nervousness is expected, nervousness is normal, when she’s about to meet the girl who says she loves her older brother...on livestream internet. For anyone to hear, including her classmate’s sister who happens to attend Mizusawa High School.

And really, if Rika Mashima hadn’t taken it upon herself to share this information to her Dad, who a) loves a good love story and b) loves his son so much that every milestone of Oniisan is treasured by him, then wouldn’t that just be sad? And totally not fun at all?

“Ara, ara...Who could that be? Taichi, would you please answer the door?” Otosan’s eyes are already gleaming with childlike mirth. Oniisan, cheeks turning more and more crimson by the second, rushes to the doorway.

Yep, this is going to be fun.

From the kitchen Rika hears her Okasan’s chiding. “Oligo, would you please give our son a break before he and Chihaya-san skips this lunch altogether?” The plates she’s carrying make an unusual clinking sound as they meet the glass table. Huh. Even Okasan is tense about this whole ordeal.

Chihaya-neesan finally arrives, sheepish as she was confident during the Queen Matches a week ago. She stutters a greeting. “Ko-konnichiwa, M-Mashima Oligo-s-san. Mashima Re-Reiko-san. R-Rika-chan.”

Otosan sends her a warm smile, once again making Rika feel thankful that her Dad’s one of the kindest Dads in the world. “Hisashiburi, Chihaya-chan! Congratulations on your victory! But before all that―come, Reiko has prepared for us a wonderful lunch.”

Lunch is indeed wonderful, going above and beyond Okasan’s insane standards by all means. From the seat across hers, Taichi-niisan is no longer giving her threatening glares, his own metaphorical plate full with awkwardness and concern for Chihaya-neesan who looks just as helpless herself. She keeps on avoiding Okasan’s line of sight and cutting up steak without ever putting it in her mouth. Rika snickers. Chihaya-neesan hasn’t changed a bit.

Heart warm at the thought, she decides to play the adorable little sister role and throws them a lifeline.

“Chihaya-neesan, Akane-chan―my schoolmate―has a sister who also goes to Mizusawa. She says you and Oniisan are really awesome , creating a karuta club and winning tournaments immediately after! I think so, too. They’re awesome, ne, Otosan, Okasan?”

Rising to the bait, words of praise immediately follow, much to her brother and Chihaya-neesan’s continuing shyness. But somewhere in between Otosan inquires about the process that went into the club’s making, and Chihaya-neesan begins to respond more confidently, with the subject of the conversation not being her but her friends. Taichi-niisan pitches in bits of information, too, and Okasan listens with a surprising, but definitely not unwelcome, level of rapt attention.

Soon enough, they find themselves laughing at the quirky tales of Mizusawa Karuta Club (Rika’s personal favorite was the one where they went head-to-head with Chiba International School, whom they first thought were foreigners, only for Taichi-niisan to reveal that they were Japanese people who hadn’t ever been overseas…).

Amidst all the merriment, Rika finally notices something.

Chihaya-neesan is giving Taichi-niisan an inexplicably fond look whenever his own eyes aren’t meeting hers; that is, when he laughs. Rika realizes that she hasn’t heard Oniisan laugh like this for a long, long time, and, judging by that loving twinkle in Chihaya-neesan’s eyes, she feels the same and is just as grateful for Taichi-niisan’s new found happiness as Rika is.

Maybe it’s due to that look that neither Otosan nor Okasan brought up Chihaya-neesan’s post Queen Matches speech, or asked them about the status of their relationship and its implications on their future.

She’s got a feeling that those questions hold no importance anymore.

iii.

Sure, she might’ve an older brother who’s basically the stuff of shoujo mangas, but there are days when Rika wonders if she could trade him for a sister.

After all, an older brother won’t rush to your school after dismissal, begging you for a trip to the mall. (“It’s an emergency, Rika-chan! Help me!”) An older brother wouldn’t ask you about what a boyfriend would want for a first year anniversary. (To which Rika would answer, “Definitely not another set of karuta cards.”) He’s the last person you would rather be talking to about high school girl problems over coffee and cake at Starbucks. (“It’s so easy for you, Onee-chan. You’ve liked each other from the start.” “Easy?! You call all that easy?!”)

But as Rika parts ways with Chihaya-oneechan after a hectic but enjoyable day and goes home where Taichi-oniisan greets her (“I heard you went shopping with Chihaya. Did you have fun?”), she’s finally made up her mind.

It’s useless to think about trading his brother anymore. Not when she already has both.

iv.

Taichi-neesan hasn’t popped the question yet, but Komano-san―nee Kanade Oe-san―is already crying.

Waiting in a classroom like the rest of them, Nishida-san remarks, “Kana, you’re supposed to cry after Chihaya. After!”

“Well, I apologize if my tears cannot bear to wait a moment longer after having done so for fifteen years. ” Komano-san wipes her tears with a handkerchief her husband passes to her. Behind his eyeglasses, his eyes are moist, too. “I think three years in high school is already a long time. But Mashima just had to add med school years on top of that.”

Hanano-san, already wearing a gleaming engagement ring of her own, is also on the verge of breakdown when finally, her phone rings. “T-that’s our cue, guys!”

Rika, with emotions equally unstable as her brother’s lifelong karuta friends, grips at the box of cake she and Okasan have spent all night baking to perfection. Altogether they head out of their hiding spot and towards the Mizusawa Club Room, where Oniisan has just finished asking Oneechan a question that is, indeed, fifteen years in the waiting.

As soon as they enter the room, Rika is treated with a sight that surpasses every joyful moment she’s ever encountered thus far. Chihaya-neechan, in her classic karuta get-up, surrounded by the cards she’s spent most of her life loving, crying openly on the crook of Taichi-niisan’s shoulder. Oniisan, one arm placed lovingly around Oneechan’s waist, welcomes them inside with the brightest smile she’s ever seen him wear.

Needless to say, Rika’s exhausted the limits of her handkerchief after that.

Later on, when everybody’s calmed down a bit and Oneechan is finally convinced by Komano-san that, yes, this is not a dream, Chihaya-chan, Rika hands her a slice of the gift she’s brought.

And finally, finally, gets to say the words she’s been longing to say:

“Oneechan, let’s eat!”

#taichihaya #mashima taichi #ayase chihaya #mashima rika #rika being the mischievous and adorable little sister hahaha #come talk taichihaya with me!

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

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Fluffy supporter [Sirius Black x Reader] - Requested

Title: Fluffy supporter Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader Word count: 2k Published: 19 July, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: I got this requested by an Anonymous reader of mine a couple of days ago. I actually really like that I learned something new from this. I never even knew there were support animals, so I actually had to look into that. I would have thought they are being trained like guid dogs, but apparently they are not. I guess there are always something new to learn about. I did change the request a slight bit scenario-wise, but the overall idea is the same. I hope noone minds. Summary: You have been in need of a support animal since first year, but unfortunately your puppy couldn’t accompany you at the start of year. Padfoot comes along to help you out, without you knowing that the dog is actually your boyfriend. Request: [x]

Hey babe🥰 I was thinking about Sirius x reader Where the reader is allowed to have an emotional support dog in the castle from the first year, but for a week his puppy had to stay at his house in London so the read goes down And Sirius(Padfoot) (being her boyfriend, but she doesn't know his secret) supports her being for several hours a day happy endning. - Anonymous

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You have been sitting in front of the Black lake, lost in your thoughts. It has been hours since you were supposed to be back in your dorm. The sun has already gone down, the moon long replaced its place. It was windy, chilly to your uncovered skin. You wrapped your arms around your torso, to warm yourself up.

You have been down for the past few days. You have been need of a support animal since you were a little child. It took a bit of convincing from your parents, but Professor Dumbledore decided to allow you to bring your then little puppy with you to Hogwarts. Every time you felt down or your thoughts and anxiety decided to get the worst of you, your best friend was there to support you.

Unfortunately he needed a couple of more health check ups and he was unable to join you when your year started, leaving you to fend for yourself. Sirius as your boyfriend was beside you whenever you needed him, but the feeling of a human and the feeling of an animal had two completely different effects on your emotions.

You have been distant from Sirius and your friends lately. You needed to be by yourself. You loved them to bits, but they couldn't give you, what your little, fluffy friend could. You missed him. You missed him more than you thought you ever would. This time however, as a grown up, you started to realise that he would not be there for your forever. He would have to leave you earlier than you ever wanted to think of. Your emotions and the realisation you have come across started to get the worst of you.

You sat under the huge oak tree, tears rolling down on your cheeks, thoughts swirling around in your head.

You heard a loud crunching sound and your head immediately snapped towards the noise. To your surprise a big, black dog was looking at you from the entrance of the Forbidden Forest. He didn't approach you though, simply laid down on the grass, looking at you. You tilted your head, not understanding why the dog stayed put. He seemed to be a gentle one and even though your head was screaming that you should be scared of a wild animal, you just didn't see it in him.

"Come here." You told the dog, patting the grass beside you and as if he was waiting for your request, he stood up and jogged over to you. He sat down next to you and pushed his head under your hand to stroke him. You smiled at the impatient behaviour, but did as you were asked. You dug your fingers into his soft fur, your nails gently scratching his skin as you ran your hand across his back. He closed his eyes and laid down beside you.

"Who might you be? I haven't seen you around." You spoke softly and caressed his torso as you heard his deep breaths. "You are enjoying this way too much, aren't you?" You chuckled at his comfortability. He put his head on your lap and looked up at you as if he understood what you were saying. You just shook off the thought, not wanting to feel like you were any more mentally unstable than you already felt.

"You know, I wouldn't mind if you kept me company sometimes." You spoke again and the dog shot up, suddenly licking across your face. Your eyes widened as the thought of him understanding you returned. "Do you understand me?" You asked hesitantly. You felt silly for asking such a question, especially from an animal, but you were really doubting yourself at this point anyway. He just licked across your face once again and started wagging his tail. "Okay... I will take that as yes..." You replied in shock, but didn't stop caressing his fur as he laid back down, enjoying your touches.

You didn't even realise when you got comfortable on the damp grass, slumber quickly taking over you as your hand laid across the black dog's torso.

The next morning you woke up in your dorm room, feeling as if you have just had the weirdest dream. You shot up from your bed, trying to convince yourself that you were not insane. You could clearly remember the dog, the feel of his fur and his wet tongue running across your face. But you did not remember coming back to your dorm.

As you got out of bed, you saw a piece of parchment on the edge of your nightstand.

"You can use Padfoot until you get your puppy back." It said. You frowned at the lack of signature, but you shook it off and enjoyed the confirmation of your sanity.

For the next couple of days, every single night you went down to the Black lake and barely after 10pm the black dog named Padfoot appeared to keep you company. It was a comforting feeling, making you feel more relived day by day.

You were once again sitting at the trunk of the gigantic oak tree, waiting for Padfoot to arrive. It was a few minutes past 10, when the dog appeared from the forest and ran over to you, wagging his tail happily. You chuckled at his behaviour and started stroking his fur as he laid his head on your thighs.

"You know, I am really glad you are here. It's been hard without my little pup, but you do make it easier." You spoke to the dog. It might have made you seem quirky, but talking to him became a habit. It helped you.

"I felt like I was lonely, like I didn't have the support that I needed. But I guess you helped me over come it." You smiled at the thought. "You know, Sirius, my boyfriend, who I talked to you about before, he is always there for me. I'm really grateful for him and I couldn't wish to have a better person by my side. But you know the feeling of a person and the feeling of an animal is different." You explained as if you have been talking to a person.

"When I am with him, I love every moment of it, but it's a different love that you get from a person. When I am with my little pup, or you, it makes me relaxed as if you could take my worries away. I really am glad you are here." You whispered as you gave a kiss on the head of your new friend. He let out a silent bark as he looked up at you. "Don't get cocky with me." You chuckled lightly.

As it was nearing midnight, you stood up and walked back to the castle, leaving Padfoot to go back to the forest. You headed up to the room of your dormitory to take your well deserved rest, when you realised you have left your shirt by the lake. You walked back down and headed through the same corridors you have come from.

"Padfoot, where were you again?" You heard James' voice as he patted Sirius' shoulder. Your lips parted involuntarily up on hearing your boyfriend's nickname. You didn't need much to understand what was going on.

"You don't have to know everything, you know?" He chuckled happily. You stood at the end of the corridor, your feet unable to move, feeling betrayed. You have opened up to the dog completely, telling him the most sensitive feelings you have been harbouring, meanwhile it was your boyfriend all along listening in on your secrets. His eyes met yours and they grew ever so wide in shock.

"Y/N." He called out to you, but you just shook your head. You span around and decided to walk away as fast as you could. "Y/N, wait!" He followed you and his steps seemed to be longer and faster. He quickly caught up to you, getting hold of your wrist gently. "Please let me explain."

"What do you want to explain? That you have been listening to my deepest secrets and feelings? I feel so stupid. I feel like you have been spying on me. I opened up to Padfoot or... you." Your voice was beyond defeated, tears quickly rolling down your face.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I knew how much you needed your support dog and I just wanted to give you what you needed. I know how hard it is for you to talk to people, to deal with people in general. I wanted to make it easier for you." He explained, getting hold of your hand and squeezing them gently.

"How is that a help? You betrayed me. I trusted you and now I realised that I have just told you all that has been on my mind." You argued, feeling the tears collect faster in your eyes.

"And why is it a problem? I am your boyfriend. I want to be there for you. I want to know if there's something on your mind. I want to help you." He tried to convince you to understand his side.

"But... but it's different." You didn't really know how to explain your feelings and thoughts and it made you even more frustrated.

"Look, sweetheart, I really am sorry. I should have been upfront with you, but I just wanted to help." He looked at you with the most apologetic eyes you have ever seen and you just couldn't stay mad.

"I know. I just feel like I have been telling my secrets to someone and you have been eavesdropping on our conversation." You spoke softly, your anger slowly leaving you. He walked closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you placed your hands on his chest.

"If you don't want me to turn anymore and be there for you, it's fine, I will not do it. But I don't want you to think that you can not talk about these feelings with me. To be honest with you, I have never felt more closer to you than in my dog form. As if you have finally opened up to me." His voice was gentle, his caressing fingers across your cheeks, soft. You stayed silent for a tad bit longer, making him wait eagerly.

"Don't you feel burdened by listening to my problems?" You asked, scared of the reply he could give you.

"What?" He asked in surprise. His eyes grew wider, his lips parted. "Are you kidding me? I just told you, I finally felt like you have opened up to me. There isn't a thing I wanted more than for you to feel comfortable enough around me, to talk to me without barriers." He explained with a light smile.

"Maybe we can try again. I'm not sure I can talk to you so openly, but it's worth a try, I guess." You shrugged unsure of how it would turn out, now that you knew Padfoot was indeed your boyfriend.

"Anything you need, sweetheart." He smiled and kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle.

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