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#which they find out the hard way when he gets *really* sick and nothing's helping so they panic and Stylus kills a god
moth-mart · 2 months
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"I need them to die in eachothers arms and for it to mean something" then proceeded to make a terrible. horrible punch to the gut
#o.#ow?????????#its. coming off the future alt but sona's afflictions go from being chronic to terminal#and because of the mutations to his vampirism the only way to survive is to feed off of gods#which they find out the hard way when he gets *really* sick and nothing's helping so they panic and Stylus kills a god#as a last 'out of options' resort and he feeds off it and it *works*#and they come to that realization and Sona refuses to continue like that because he says hes not going to live off of other people's-#suffering anymore. and so he makes his choice and at some point they go to visit Will who's completely cut ties with them because she#blames god's death on them being cowards who didnt try hard enough to stop her#which she isnt happy to see that and doesnt take the news well at all and states that theyre just throwing god's sacrifice away by#letting him die which makes the situation even more conflicting for sona who muses on how even beyond the grave#god's putting him in shitty situations. of either living selfishly off of others' deaths or seemingly having let her die for nothing#and will storms off and Caraway [who she's living with now] tells them to stay the night so they do#but it doesnt even matter cause Sona gently wakes Stylus up in the middle of the night and tells him hes dying and so#they sit with eachother and just talk softly and reminisce about meeting the other and they both agree they wouldnt trade it for anything#then he dies very peacefully in Stylus' arms#and will wakes up the next morning and comes downstairs and Caraway gently informs her and she runs into the other room#and Stylus is still sitting there in the same spot just. holding whats left of him. unmoved for hours#AND THEN I HAD TO STOP BRUSHING MY TEETH. CAUSE WTF. MAN???#the emotional damage may entirely be dependent on the emotional attachment level to these guys#and nothing otherwise but. if youre me. yknow. [shatters like glass]#MHMMH#cool#character death#I GUESS#sonaverse#delete tag#lore dump#very much a noncanon thing but. mmgnmgmg [wiggly sheet of metal noise]
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pochipop · 3 months
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#LOVE AND DEEPSPACE !! ♡ — HOW I CRAVE YOU IN THE MORNIN' (RAFAYEL X READER).
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#. synopsis! — rafayel doesn't really like mornings, but heaven knows he likes you .
#. characters! — rafayel.
#. warnings! — none .
#. word count! — 1.3k .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
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Rafayel has never been a morning person. He likes to watch the occasional sunrise if he wakes naturally to catch it, but heaven knows he’s loath to pull himself out of bed before he feels good and ready. You, on the other hand, don’t tend to have the luxury of sleeping in until whenever you please. The life of a Deepspace Hunter often requires early starts, and now that you’ve woven your life so tightly between the threads of Rafayel’s, he’s seldom excluded from the harsh ring of your alarm coercing you out of bed, out of your dreams of sweet nothings, and into the real world (which is often much less pretty.)
You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that Rafayel is already pouting at the mere thought of your departure, and your suspicions are confirmed when he snakes his arms around your waist, groaning.
“Baby,” he mutters, “don’t go, the bed gets so cold when you leave.”
You sigh.
“Have to,” you murmur, still half asleep. “Work.”
“Call in sick.”
“I’m not sick,” you answer, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You know my work is important for more reasons than one, Rafayel.”
“I do know,” he sighs, though it’s clear he’s less than happy about agreeing.
In fairness, you’re not particularly happy about this either. You love your job, worked hard to get it and climb the ranks within it, but man, sometimes you wish it were possible to pay the bills with currency earned cuddling in bed with the man nuzzling into your neck like a kitten. 
“Then don’t ask me to call in sick,” you laugh, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his warm temple.
He groans again, though you know he appreciates the affection.
Gently and with great reluctance, you pull yourself from Rafayel’s embrace, though you can’t help but take a moment to marvel at the way early morning rays of light filter through the curtains, playing on his delicate features. His eyes like marbled sunsets lazily find their way to you, still heavy with sleep, peering up at you in a mixture of love and discontent.
“You’re a menace to my sleeping schedule,” he grumbles playfully.
“Consider it payback for all the nights you’ve kept me up too late,” you answer jokingly, shrugging your shoulders.
“I’ll have you know, keeping you up at night is a vital part of our relationship,” he pouts, but there’s an unmistakable glint of mischeviousness in his tired gaze.
You giggle, knowing he’s joking (at least in part.)
“I’ll make it up to you,” you move closer, cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning down to peck his lips. “Promise.”
“You better,” he mutters.
“Don’t I always?” You inquire, fingers feathering through his soft hair.
“Yeah,” he acknowledges in a semi-rare moment of complete sincerity from the man who often goes through the world half-wittingly. “You do.”
You smile, soft and warm, leaning in for another lingering kiss, savoring the warmth and familiarity of Rafayel’s touch. His arms reach up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he’s hesitant to let go.
“Be safe, okay?” He says.
“Always,” you nod.
Before, you might have mistaken his concern for a lack of trust in your abilities, but you’re well past the point of pointless misunderstandings. Rafayel may be an artist, and he might spin his words like golden threads from time to time, making you read between the lines, but your sincerest assessment of the moment tells you he’s said exactly what he means. He wants you to be safe, wants you to come home in one piece, and you let him steal another quick kiss before standing upright.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” you add, hoping it might soften the blow of your departure.
His playful pout returns.
“You seem to doubt the depth of my ability to lament over your absence,” he states.
“I don’t doubt it at all, but I’d rather you find more enjoyable ways to spend your day,” you laugh.
He sighs dramatically.
“Bring back something interesting from your adventure,” he suggests, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe something I can crush up, turn into paint.”
“Need I remind you what happened the last time you used an oddly sourced item for pigment?” You ask incredilously.
Rafayel rolls his eyes.
“Need I remind you that that’s precisely how we met?” He counters.
“Still,” you sigh, “I’d much prefer you not be endangered by your paint. Stick with oils and acrylics for a while. For my peace of mind.”
“Is that concern I detect from you, my little hunter?” Rafayel grins.
“Of course it is,” you reply honestly. “You might be pretentious and obnoxious, but I love you. I’d never want you in harm’s way.”
His teasing smirk softens to a genuine smile at your sincerity, and he stands, taking a moment to stretch before reaching out to caress the curve of your jaw with the top of his index finger.
“Obnoxious and pretentious, huh?” He chuckles lightly. “Thank you for the glowing evaluation of my character, darling. But, because I do happen to love you as well, I’ll let that little dig slide, —and I’ll do my very best to stick to safe and traditional mediums, at least for the time being, just for you.”
You can’t help but smile at Rafayel’s good-natured reply. His gentle touch lingers on your jaw, and you lean into it, relishing in the softness of his affection.
“Very much so appreciated,” you answer amusedly. “I’ll consider it a personal victory if we can avoid any and all paint-related Wanderer incidents for the forseeable future.”
Rafayel gives a curt nod.
“A noble goal, my dearest hunter,” he says. “Now go forth and fell any pesky Wanderers intent on disturbing the peace of our humble city of high-class electronic developments, bringing back tales of wonder and triumph.”
Heaven knows he has to be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met, but you couldn’t imagine him being any other way.
You play along and give him a mock salute.
“Yes sir, at once.”
Rafayel stifles a laugh, clearly pleased by your participation in his theatrics. He thinks for a moment that this life he lives with you is nothing short of fantastical, —the kind of comfort he only dreamed of just years ago, and now here you are before him, like some kind of angel he’s terrified he might wake up to find was a figment of his deepest desires all along. But his worries are quenched by the way your lips slot so perfectly against his own as he leans in, kissing you sweetly.
“May the cosmic forces be ever in your favor, my love. Return not only with tales of triumph, but also interstellar souvenirs for my viewing pleasure and artistic inspirations if you happen to stumble across any. Preferably ones that will not curse our modest seaside home.”
You laugh, and it makes his heart stutter.
“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for cosmic trinkets,” you assure.
You’re thrumming by the time Rafayel pulls you in again, pressing you closer to his chest. There’s nothing he has to say to fill the silence, and you let your eyes close for a moment, awash in the silent exchange of understanding so deep it could rival the cosmos. Beyond all the playful banter and the theatrical mannerisms, there’s love here, and that’s really all you could ask for. Worries about your safety, concern over Rafayel’s tendency to attract bad omens, —they dissipate in the face of this connection that buzzes like a live wire.
As you finally pull away, you meet his gaze and find nothing but softness there, replacing all the prior amusement and tiredness from before.
“Return safely, my angel. Our oceanside abode awaits your triumphant arrival,” he takes your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “And so do I.”
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foreveralbon · 2 months
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Hey, could you write one where y/n is in a long distance relationship with Logan Sargeant. Like when it’s off season she still is in a different country and she decides to surprise him at a Grand Prix and he has no clue but the team helps her
All fluff please ❤️
thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻🫶🏻
back in his arms - ls2
the side of your bed that is normally warmed by logan’s body is occupied by the still figures of your cat rupert and his dog coco. rupert’s small head is resting on your stomach as you stroke your finger up and down his nose, and coco is curled up at your feet.
your phone brightens up your dark bedroom and logan is watching you fondly from the other side of the tiny screen.
“show me rupert,” he demands, propping his phone up so he can watch you at a normal angle.
“what? have you gotten sick of my face or something?” you accuse him with a laugh.
but you still tilt the screen to show logan, who coos at the sight of your cat. rupert meows before turning his body so that he faces away from you.
“now look what you did, you scared him off!”
he just laughs and insists that it was you. the screen is so bright that you squint when it glares in your eyes, and logan tells you to turn the light on and your brightness down before you hurt your eyes.
“i can’t be bothered to.”
he just rolls his eyes, feigning dismissal though he already knew what your response would be. there’s something about the fact that he’s trying to recreate everyday life with you over the phone - teasing comments, cuddles in bed, bullying your pets, random conversations at the most random times. it has you feeling giddy inside, and it’s more than enough to keep you satisfied for now. at least until the next time you see him, which, if things go your way, won’t be too far long.
“you’re wearing my jumper,” he notes. “are you cold?”
“no. why so many questions today?”
“just wanna look after you. it’s the next best thing i can do considering i’m not with you.”
and it quite probably is the next best thing he can do - he’s in las vegas, with drunk people stumbling down sidewalks, with men who’ve gambled big and loss hard and with led billboards blinding his sight everywhere he goes, while you lay at home in bed, smothering yourself in every single thing of his you can find - his clothes, his blanket, his cologne.
you’re wearing his hoodie now, sleeves tugged down to your fingers and hoodie strings tied to below your chin. you look warm and cozy and logan wants nothing more than to be with you in that moment.
“i know, lo. i want you here more than anything too.”
“i wish you could’ve come with me.” he hasn’t stopped saying that since he first called you half an hour ago, eyes drooped with sleep and lips pouted as he tried to imagine you beside him.
i know, is all you say. and seeing as how there’s an unread message from alex albon asking you what time your flight lands in nevada, and your suitcase is sitting in the corner of your room, packed full of clothes and necessities for both you and your boyfriend, it’d be quite embarrassing for you if you rocked up to quali to surprise your boyfriend only for him to not want you there.
truthfully, the only reason you’re wearing his hoodie is to hide the plane clothes that you wear beneath - though, you’re not too sure why he hasn’t questioned the hoodie despite the fact he knows it’s hot out.
“i’ll be there for abu dhabi,” you promise, and he nods before blowing a kiss goodbye through the screen.
your room is shrouded in darkness when he hangs up - you really should open up the blinds or turn the lights on, but the thought is pushed to the back of your mind by the bubbling anticipation in your stomach at the idea of seeing logan before the end of the day.
your flight had been delayed. one hour, two hours, three hours and your nails would have started bleeding if it had been delayed an hour extra.
you’d planned it in your head - if the flight leaves at three, you get there by seven and have some time to yourself before going to track and surprising logan. that was the one thing that didn’t go your way.
now, it’s 10:30pm and you’re rushing your way through the paddocks, praying that you make it to catch a glimpse of logan driving.
lily’s trailing behind you, hand gripped tightly in yours so as not to lose you. she’d picked you up from the hotel, freshly ironed clothes in hand because she’d known you wouldn’t have time to prepare your own yourself. you arrive in the williams garage with 15 minutes to spare.
james greets you with a hug before doing the same to lily, and you move to stand behind him. someone comes up to you both, offering you a headset, and almost immediately, logan’s voice comes flooding in. his familiar drawl, though strained with effort from racing, has your blood pumping. you’re here, he’s here, and you’re only minutes away from being back in his arms.
“how are we doing?”
“good,” james replies. “if you push, you can set a much faster lap time.”
there’s a bite of determination in logan’s tone when he replies with a firm “will do” and you just know he’s about to try his hardest. your eyes follow the little blue dot on the screen that’s supposed to be him and there’s so much happening on the screens that you don’t know what to focus on.
but it’s when he sets a lap time that puts him in p7 - and with alex, both williams in the third row for the race - that sets your blood alight, celebrations erupting from the whole garage. lily cheers for both alex and logan and pulls you in for another hug.
“great job, everyone,” logan says, voice crackly over the radio one last time as he pulls into the pit lane. “that was for my girl, i hope she was watching.”
you can’t help the blush that creeps up your cheeks, hiding from the gaze of every proud team member who watches you in place of your boyfriend.
logan’s car comes rolling into the garage and you step into view when he jumps out. it takes a moment for him to go around, accepting congratulations, and well done’s, and good luck’s from the team. it’s only when he turns around to place his helmet on the closest table that he spots you, a proud smile stretching your face and his jacket hung over your shoulder to shield you from the cold las vegas air.
he freezes. he raises his hand, half-pointing to you, like he’s asking if everyone else can see you too. alex just laughs and pushes him forward.
logan’s hands come up to squish your cheeks, jaw dropped in disbelief as his eyes scour your face as though to check that you’re really real. “you came here and surprised me. you were at home this morning.”
“i did. i was.”
he falters over his words, kissing you between each stutter. around you, everyone goes from watching you to busying themselves, giving you as much privacy as possible in a crowded room. “how?”
“alex and lily coordinated flights and timing, james hooked me up with a hotel room. you have to thank them.”
“i will,” he nods. “you’re here.”
“i am,” you whisper. he holds your gaze now, sky blue eyes spilling every untold i love you, i miss you, i’m never leaving you again in yours. “you did so well, logan. i’m so proud of you.”
his face splits into a bright grin. “it’s ‘cause you’re here, now. and i talked to you earlier. kinda like you’re my lucky charm.”
“i like the sound of that.”
“don’t ever let me be alone again, okay?”
“i promise.”
author’s note: sped through that second half so i could have it out in time to manifest a good quali for logan
@namgification @queen-aria-things @lipringlrh let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!
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dilfl0v3rss · 9 months
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ony is the best baby daddy like he just has that energyyy 😫
rightttttt like he gets the kids on time and if he’s late he will always let you know. he knows how to do his daughters hair and always makes sure his son has a haircut. his kids are always dressed nice and he always makes sure they’re taking care of each other as well as taking care of their beautiful mother.
he still finds himself looking out for you too, always telling the kids to “order sum for mommy” when he takes them out to eat or to “always make sure mommy’s not working too hard”. even on days he isn’t supposed to have them he’d gladly take them if you were feeling overwhelmed. if you’re feeling sick he’ll literally sleep at your house, soup and medicine sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch as he slept just incase you were to wake up in the middle of the night.
he’d constantly “forget” money at your house after he leaves too, telling you to “just get yourself sum nice”. if you give the money back anyways he’d give it to his oldest child, telling them to put it in your wallet for him.
when it’s his weekend with the kids he’d call you every couple of hours to let you know he has everything under control since he knows how worried you could get when you haven’t heard from him i awhile.
he always speaks highly of you to the kids, telling his daughters stories of when the two of you were young and in love and telling his sons stories of how strong you were for him when he couldn’t be strong for himself. your kids would honestly be what got the two of you back together. they’d constantly tell you the stories their father would tell them, reminding you of how happy the two of you used to be and making you realize that you didn’t even know why the two of you called it quits in the first place.
as soon as you called ony he’d answer on the first ring, throwing millions of questions at you since you never really called unless he had the kids. you’d shut him up by asking if he could come over to talk for a little in which he replied almost instantly with a yes. he’d be over there in less than fifteen minutes letting you lead him to your bedroom to talk just incase your kids came downstairs for some water or a late night snack.
of course the two of you didn’t get to talk for more than ten minutes, his dick shoved deep into you as he held his hand over your mouth. “shhh mama you gotta be quiet. ion want you t’wake the kids” he’d whisper, fucking into you deeper as he watched your teary eyes roll to the back of your skull. you’d mumble back a muffled “mhm” as you felt the pad of his thumb begin to circle your clit. you’d whine and moan for him loader and loader, turning him on to the point where his grunts and groans began to come out at a higher volume as well. soon enough the both of you were deep in bliss, fucking on each other just like you used to. you’d tell him how much you missed him and how you’ve never stopped loving him and he’d gladly say it back, deepening his stroke as he left passionate kisses on your lips.
as the two of you finished ony would lay you back down, letting sleep claim you as he moved towards the door to check on his little angels. as soon as he turned the doorknob loud shuffles could he heard from the hallway, the sound of a bunch of feet running towards one of the bedrooms and little whispers of “sh sh shh” and “be quiet” coming from it as he made his way down the hall to check on his “sleeping” children. he couldn’t help but smile when he seen them cuddled up together on a large blanket of the floor, some of the smaller ones in bed with the oldest. they had different rooms, but chose to sleep together often since they were all so close.
ony couldn’t help but notice the small smiles on each of their faces, nothing but excitement and joy rushing through them as they thought about how happy much happier their parents will be now that they’re together again.
i didn’t even mean to write this i just let my brain leak all over the place…
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katsukikitten · 11 months
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Handing Katsuki father's day cards that are for his own dad or yours and he needs to "read and sign it" but as he's reading it his brow starts to furrows.
"Sweetheart, ya got the wrong cards." He's reading it for the third time now.
"I got the right ones." You're trying not to giggle before he's rolling his eyes and reading the card aloud.
"You're not just an amazing father," he flips it open, "You're going to be an amazing grandfather too."
"Yea baby that's the right card." You hum, stepping into the kitchen to get the final card and present.
"Baby, it isn't. We don't have kids. Unless ya mean our cats but then they've been grandparents." He tosses the card down, rising to help you find the backups he's assuming you're looking for. This wasn't the first year you'd accidently gotten the wrong card or one that was just slightly off, he thinks nothing of the message.
Barely had any caffeine as the two of you rose early to get ready to host his parents and yours.
"Katsuki, it is the right card." You say, pressing another card into his hands, no envelope or anything. Just thick white card stock with black letters and an image of white new balance shoes.
"It's almost time for these bad boys." He scoffs, looking at what the world has deemed the official dad shoe, he looks up to see a box in your hands, "Sweetheart, what the fuck? I hate these ugly ass shoes. Ya know that."
He's got this smile to his face the one where he thinks you're being too playful and silly, every now and again you two get each other gag gifts. You're surprised he hadn't caught on yet especially since you always joked that the second you knew, you'd be getting him "those ugly ass dad shoes."
"I know." You both share a laugh, you pressing the shoe box into hands, "Just open it. They'll be fun to wear today, goes with the theme."
"What's the fuckin theme? Dads?" He opens the box and sees the shoes but something is taped to the top of the box. A grainy picture in black and white, a blob in the circle and when he lets his eyes focus as best they can without his glasses perched on his nose, he thinks he sees a very specific shape.
He rips it from the box, bringing the film closer and yes he can see a nose and his face morphs into complete surprise. You giggle as you watch him figure it out, which you swore you wouldn't be able to get this far without him figuring out why you'd been feeling so sick lately.
"No fuckin way." It's low and for a split second you think he isn't excited, then he locks eyes with you and he gives you that look. The one where he's smiling but his brows furrow up and his eyes aglow with unshed tears like you are his world, like you're giving him the world, and he's putting the shoes down to gently pick you up and twirl you around.
"A baby. We're having a fucking baby." He's pressing kisses to your cheeks when he sets you on your feet, if you thought you were spoiled before you'd be rotten by the time this pregnancy was done.
"A baby." You repeat back to him, your own excited tears clinging to your lashes, ones Katsuki gently kisses away.
"How long?"
"Three months. It was really hard to keep a secret but I really wanted to do that shoe thing I teased you about. I've got the receipt so we can return them I'll-"
"Nah I've got the perfect idea for 'em."
An hour later after a shared shower and rapid fire questions, Bakugou is coming down the stairs, he's got some ugly ass jean jorts you gifted him as a gag for his birthday two years ago before giving him his real gift and one of his dad's old white tees he tucked into the waist band of the shorts and of course his new white new balance shoes.
"You look ridiculous." You giggle in your sundress, somehow he made the outfit a little hot. You were sure Bakugou could make anything look hot and here was living proof.
"Better get used to it Sweetheart, this is how I'm gonna look when I put another one in ya." He puffs his chest out, smoothing his big palms over his shirt as you roll your eyes.
"I've made a monster." The door bell rings, when you go to rise, Katsuki gently presses you back into the couch by your shoulder as he gets the door for his parents. He opens the door with a sense of pride that comes with being the cocky pro hero, looking much larger than life.
His mother is unphased.
"Oi, I brought that stuff you- Why are you dressed like a fuckin dad from the 90s?" Mitsuki makes a face before she processes what he's wearing, "Oh my fucking GOD OH MY FUCKING GOD MASARU! WE'RE GONNA BE GRANDPARENTS. YER GONNA BE A GRANDPA! RIGHT RIGHT?"
She pushes past her son, a quick squeeze to his forearm before she's honing in on the daughter in law she already adored and now even more.
Masaru quirks his brow and Katsuki nods.
"I'm so happy for you son." He hugs Katsuki the way men do, a quick tight squeeze before a clap on the back, Masaru tries not to let the tears slip past his eyes as Katsuki's life plays on fast forward in Masaru's mind. He remembers how Mitsuki told him they were expecting, remembers holding him for the first time and thought his whole world view shattered and changed. Remembers his first words and steps. Remembers his first mishap with his quirk and how Katsuki had blown the coffee table sky high. He remembers him growing taller and taller, going to UA, figuring out how to be a better person as he grew in size. How Katsuki called him and his ma in the middle of the night the first time he hit the top ten rankings. And again when he was number one.
How he took his dad out to lunch, wiping his palms on his pants like he did when he was nervous to ask his dad how he asked Mitsuki to marry him. He smiles, tears slip past anyway as he stares at his broad shouldered son adding one final comment that makes Katsuki's throat close up in the best way.
"I can't wait to watch them grow up to be as great as their parents and more."
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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months
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Can you do best friend reader staying at landos but she gets her period in the night?
Anon 2: a blurb where the reader is cramping really bad and lando is just trying to make her feel better
A/N: I got both of these back to back so I'mma just combine them
You had felt sick during the dinner, trying to ignore the pain in your joints and back. It's odd, it had been happening all day. Swallowing down some pain killers and wanting to eat nothing but salty carbs.
It couldn't possibly be your period as you weren't supposed to start for another 2 weeks, maybe your PMS. Which is how you talk yourself down when you get the nervous sweats.
Lando was aware of your internal thoughts, you kept getting this far away look and moving around every so often. He keeps quiet not wanting to embarrass you, even after years of being friends.
"Let's head to bed yeah? You can take a shower, use all the hot water if you want." Jumping up, he kisses the top of your head and walking around his place locking up.
You move to the shower, turning it on, you add the steam setting. Lando hears the door open and then close, as he walks into the bedroom. Digging through his closest he finds your favorite shirt of his and some of his boxers, loose clothing to help whatever is going on.
He'd never tell you, but he synced your calendar with his. You travel with him a lot to races, always wanting you to have everything and be comfortable. So checking his phone, he's left confused as your getting symptoms way to earlier.
Sneaking into the bathroom, he doesn't look at you as he lays the clothes on the counter and backs out quickly. Laying on bed, he starts some crappy cheesy romance movie knowing it'll help you feel better.
Creeping out of the bathroom, you and Lando look at one another. Without a question he pulls the covers back and opens his arms. It's such a small thing but with how you're feeling it means the world.
"Come here." His voice soft, as you crawl into the bed and snuggle into his side. It doesn't take you long for you to fall asleep, but he stays awake, making sure you're comfortable.
Thirsty, Lando slides out of the bed to get something to drink. At the loss of contact you whimper, but pain explodes in your lower abdomen. As quickly as it came, it leaves.
Tiptoeing back into the room he moves the covers, but stops seeing a large spot on his bed. "Fuck, oh love." He whispers. "Y/n...wake up." Whining you wake, Lando telling you to go to the bathroom and look under his sink.
Confused and tired, you do as he says. He quickly swipes everything off the bed, throwing it in the laundry. Rushing around he lays down new sheets, and grabs a new pair of boxers for you.
In the bathroom you freeze, feeling that all to familiar feeling. "No, no, oh please no." Embarrassment gripping your throat, sliding the boxers off you see why Lando woke you.
"Shit." You curse, looking under the sink you see your favorite products, Lando having taken pictures when you once went together to get some. "Y/n, these are for you." Lando cracks the door open and lays the fresh pair on the sink for you.
"Thank you." You choke, trying hard not to cry. Cleaning yourself up, Lando stops, just finished in putting the new sheets on the bed something you notice. "Did I bleed on the bed?" Lando shakes his head fast, denying it quickly.
"Nope, I figured new sheets will help you feel better. Are you okay?" Worry fills his eyes, when he sees you wince. "Cramps." Is all you can say, sighing he helps you into bed. "I'll be back." He rushes down the hallway, coming back with a large heating pad.
You try to help, but he doesn't let you getting you comfortable placing it on your waist, tucking you in. He joins you in the bed, pulling you close his fingers dip under your/his shirt. "What are you-" "Something that my sister taught me, says it helps." His fingers gently push and prod right above your area.
Instantly your cramps settle, as he gets comfortable fingers just moving around. "Thanks." He smiles, laying his head on your shoulder. "We're friends, Y/n. I'm always here." He whispers.
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ceruleancattail · 2 months
Text
Observation
Jade x reader
Tw: yandere, stalking, man’s a literal creep
Jade tends to document things he finds important.
Perhaps it’s just a habit for him, being the vice housewarden of Octavinelle. Penning everything down in a small leather journal, tightly bound by a rubber band. If you think that’s the only protection that bounded book has, you’ll pay dearly for that folly.
Certain… ‘charms’ from the deep sea are sewn into its cover, engraved into every single page. Spells, in a tongue lesser known by the folk who live on land. If anyone peeked within, the next thing they’ll be looking at would be the ceiling of the sick bay.
Jade’s charms aren’t as charming as they sound. He does value his privacy, really. Other than Ocatvinelle’s trade secrets, his own notes and schedules have a place within that book of mystery.
Of course, you have a special place in it as well.
Not that you’ll ever know.
Jade takes special care to make sure you never find out. It’ll be quite problematic if you ever saw whatever he’s… written about you. As much as he had confidence in his silver tongue, no amount of words could probably twist the inked words into something… acceptable.
On those pages lie various passages, scattered throughout the book. A detailed write up about you. Your likes, your dislikes, your unconscious habits… it’s all neatly penned down in cursive, documented in Jade’s little journal.
He spends more time than most, observing you. Sneaking glances through the window, mismatched irises silently taking note of every little thing you do. Jade knows what hand is your dominant one (or perhaps you use both! How talented), which type of pen is your favourite, the expression you have when you’re lost in thought…
Jade knows almost everything about you. Ranging from more innocent topics like your favourite colour, your go-to karaoke songs to… things that you wouldn’t tell anybody. Things that he should not have known.
Your favourite sleeping position. The way your face contorts in fear. How sensitive you were, to someone else’s gaze. Jade timed it himself, trailing behind you like a shadow.
It took quite quickly for you to spin around, clutching at the strap of your bag. Jade clicked the stopwatch himself, chuckling darkly behind a pillar. For someone as tall as he was, Jade’s rather good at hiding.
It makes it very useful, when it comes to watching over you. Oh, don’t get it twisted. He harbours no such delusions of being your “knight”. Jade’s not watching over you to protect you or anything… although he could be persuaded, if you were to come running to him, begging for his help.
Oh no. He’s just observing you, like one of his prized fungi specimens. You fascinate him, truly. Could you really blame him for wanting to find out everything about you? It’s simply a labour of love.
They say true soulmates know every last thing about each other. Well, there’s nothing hard-work and a little perseverance can’t fix, hm?
Jade writes down every last thing about you. He works hard, truly. It’s all for your sake, anyways. Jade will tug and pull on every one of your strings, gently coaxing you closer, closer to him. There’s no use trying to run. Jade knows every single one of your quirks, so much better then you yourself could ever hope to comprehend.
So won’t you accept him, darling ? After all, you’ve got nowhere to run. Not anymore.
Jade has you in the palm of his hand.
He has no plans of letting you go, not anytime soon.
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bruisedboys · 8 months
Text
remus lupin x fem!reader. cw for mental health issues and general sickness, r is on medication but it isn’t specified what type!
a very self indulgent remus blurb in which remus takes care of a sick and sad reader! I deal with physical sickness a lot and I don’t know exactly how much it has to do with my mental health, but it definitely has something to do with it. I’d love a remus to help me get through it <3
Remus hates that he doesn’t know what to do when you’re having a hard day like you are today. It never gets any easier, for you mostly, but for him, too. He’s been itching to be with you all day and he’s managed to get off work early, stopping on the way back for a mini grocery run and to pick up your new round of medication.
When he gets home the apartment is quiet. It always is but today the silence feels heavy. Like it’s oozing off the walls and into the floorboards. Remus pushes the door closed gently and toes off his shoes.
“Y/N?” He calls softly, venturing into the living room but finding it empty. “It’s me.” He puts his bags down on the tiny kitchen island. “Where are you, hun?”
“In the bedroom,” comes your voice. It’s quiet and a bit strained but yours all the same.
Remus follows it down the hallway. His bedroom is small but the two of you make it work and Remus wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d rather have you always in his space than never.
He pushes the bedroom door open and finds you on the bed, his laptop open in front of you. You look a little better than this morning. You’d woken up with a headache, and in the few hours before Remus had to leave for work the ache had spread down your neck and arms and settled at your wrists. He’d have taken the day off but you’d never let him. You don’t like a fuss being made over you. Remus literally wants to fuss over you all the time.
“Hey,” Remus says, smiling as big as he can when he’s so heartbroken for you. You look up from your laptop and give him what looks like a very effortful smile. Remus beams back though his chest hurts, “Hi, gorgeous. How are you feeling?”
You sit up properly, hit pause on the film you’re watching and shrug. “Better. Not as bad as this morning.” You push your hair behind your ears. “Was work okay today?”
Remus has had a hard time at work recently. It’s not a big deal, and now he’s wishing he hadn’t told you because you sound and look so worried about him. It’s alarming how concerned you can be for him when you’ve literally been bedridden all day.
He rolls his eyes fondly rather than break down into tears. “Don’t worry about me, lovely girl. But since you asked, it was awful ‘cos I missed you all day.” He says it dramatically to make you laugh. It works, even if your laugh sounds more like a weak chuckle.
Remus crawls into bed next to your knees and doesn’t wait a second to get his hands on you, one on your elbow and the other stroking your cheek. “What have you been up to while I was gone, hm?”
He doesn’t ask you to make you feel bad. He knows you feel useless sometimes, too tired or anxious or sick to do the tasks you wish you could. Remus thinks you’re the opposite of useless. He thinks you’re spectacular. He tells you all the time and he’ll keep telling you as long as he needs to.
“Um, not much,” you say, shrugging. “I did some laundry and went outside for a bit, though. And I was thinking we could go for a walk later, if you want to?”
Remus smiles, smoothing his hand down your cheek to settle at your neck. You’re warm. He loves you a lot, more when he can tell how hard you’re trying to be okay when nothing about this really is. “Yeah, of course. That would be nice. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
He doesn’t know if he imagines it but he’s pretty sure you lean into his touch. You’re very catlike in the way you melt at his affections — just one of the many things Remus loves about you.
“Yeah, I think so,” you say softly, looking at him with way too much love for his heart to stay intact. “Might be nice to get out of the house, you know?”
Remus hums and moves closer to you. The corner of his laptop digs into his thigh but he can’t bring himself to care. All his attention is on you. He pushes his hand up your arm and over your shoulder til he’s cupping your neck with both hands. You warm under his touch like butter in the sun.
“You’re not hurting too much for a hug, are you?” He asks, thumb at your jaw. “‘Cos I really want to give you one right now.”
You make a noise like a whine and then shuffle forward, struggling your arms around him in way of an answer. Remus hugs you back, arms pushed over your shoulders, lifting himself onto his knees for a better angle. It’s an awkward position but a brilliant hug. Your chin gets pushed over Remus’ shoulder and he pushes his face into the side of your head in a long, slow kiss to the space above your ear. You smell like you, like honey and tea and your bed and home. You don’t even try to hide your relief to have him close again, sighing as you melt into him like you’ve been waiting for this all day.
Remus’ heart soars. Unable to stop himself, he starts to pepper smiling kisses all over the side of your face in quick succession. You, previously tired and legarthic, unravel like a ball of yarn, giggling under his kisses, pushing at his chest, eyes crinkled at the corners, your smile the prettiest thing Remus has ever seen.
“Remus!” You gasp, giggling as he gets your cheek, the corner of your eyes, the bridge of your nose. “Remus— stop. Stop!”
Remus doubles down the affection, pulling away as your giggles die down and feeling more in love with you than ever. His hands at your shoulders and his knees pressing into your thigh, he watches you catch your breath. Your smile brightens your tired eyes.
“You’re awful,” you tell him, though by the way you say it, all sticky with love and the words etched into your smile, it sounds like you mean the opposite.
Remus grins. “Mm, I know,” he drawls, all faux displeased. “Like, what kind of horrible boyfriend buys his pretty girl donuts on the way home from work?”
You perk up at the mention of your favourite treat. It’s adorable and Remus regrets not telling you about his purchase earlier.
“Donuts?” You ask, hopeful. You might be feeling sick but you’ll never pass up on an opportunity for donuts.
“Yeah, doll,” Remus laughs, swooping in for a quick kiss on your cheek before climbing off the bed. “But first you gotta take your medication. Then you can have as many donuts as you want.”
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ladykailitha · 3 months
Text
Batshit Soulmates Part 2
Yay! More soulmates!!!
In this Eddie has nothing but time to think while Steve tries to outrun his problems and runs into new ones.
In Medias Res| Prologue|Pt 1|
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
****
Eddie waited until he heard the sound the maroon BMW fade into the distance before he broke down and sobbed. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that his sheep were involved with whatever the hell happened to Chrissy or the fact that Vecna was real. He couldn’t have imagined finding your soulmate in a worse way then an actual fucking battefield.
Was Eddie surprised his soulmate was a boy? No. He had figured out pretty quick that it was all boys for him. Felt a little bad for Steve through, must have come as shock. Because let’s be fair, Eddie was pretty shocked, too. Of all the dudes in all the world, the universe picked the most diametrically opposed human on the fucking planet.
He didn’t hate Steve or anything. Steve tended to leave the Hellfire Club and its members alone and would stop Tommy and his ilk from harassing them, too. Which made more sense once Eddie had met Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. Those three never shut up about him really. To Dustin he was the old brother he always wanted. To Lucas he was a mentor. To Mike? Hilariously, when Mike was around Dustin and Lucas, he would roll his eyes and sigh dramatically whenever Steve was brought up.
When they weren’t around? Mike talked about the dude in hushed, reverent tones. Mike had an even bigger case of hero worship then the other two put together. But he was also a bitchy teen, so he hid it better then the others.
Eddie had scoffed at their depictions the first time he heard them, but the more they repeated it, the less it began to sound like they were telling tall tales, and more like they actually had a huge amount of respect for Steve. Which really didn’t gel well with the Munson Doctrine.
Jock=bad, rich=bad, popular with girls=bad, added all up together and you get a douche of the highest order. But even though Eddie had threatened to cut his throat Steve had still wanted to help him. Eddie wasn’t sure if their places were reversed that he wouldn’t have thrown Steve off and told him where to stick it. Soulmate or not.
But Steve had stayed. Either the man was a sap or maybe Dustin and them were right about him.
Eddie sighed. Well, he supposed only time would tell which one it was. As much as his inner cynic was screaming that Steve would give up. That he would learn that loving him was too hard and walk away. Leave Eddie to deal with murder charges and monsters. Another part of him was telling him that Steve wouldn’t do that. That Steve never back down from a fight no matter how much a losing battle it was. That loving Eddie was easier than fighting bullies and apparently monsters.
He knew realistically that Steve was a better soulmate then a lot of people got, but seriously whatever immortal asshole up there making the decisions had to have a sick sense of humor. The only things the two of them had in common was their height and their eye color and even that was slightly off. Oh all right, maybe their love three little freshmen dorks.
Protectors. Steve and him were both protectors. They had that too. Eddie could see it his eyes that he was more worried about Eddie would do the rest of them if Eddie actually went through with it. Not that he was going to. He had been trying to. He wanted to so bad. Steve stood in the place of all those people that had hurt Eddie his whole life. His dad. Bullies. Teachers.
Eddie was given an chance to become who they all thought he was. A murderer. He couldn’t tell if it was the look in Steve’s eyes that stayed his hand, or the burning on his arm, or if he just wasn’t built to kill. That he was more like his gentle Uncle Wayne then the violent Al Munson. Maybe it was combination of all three.
The sad (?) thing was, that Eddie could see himself next to Steve’s side. In fact it was too damn easy to imagine. He could feel the rightness of it, even if every other part of him scream at the injustice of it. The King and the Freak. But maybe that wasn’t what the universe saw. Maybe it saw two lonely boys that fit better than it looked on the surface.
After all, wasn’t that what Eddie himself had been preaching for years. That too many people only saw what they wanted to see and not dare to get to know people before making a judgment.
He preferred the easy charm of captain Steve Harrington over the hard nosed oneupmanship of Billy Hargrove and fierce competitiveness of Jason Carver any day. It was only after Steve’s fall from grace that he had even began targeting the basketball team in the first place. Both Billy and Jason would get mad and try and start something with Eddie.
Steve though? Steve would smirk and turn away. Like Eddie was funny and not a freak. And maybe Eddie targeted Steve just to see him smile and smirk. But the only people who knew that was him and Wayne. And he intended to keep it that way.
In fact, Eddie thought straightening up, the more he thought about how Steve actually acted in school the more he realized that Steve was actually a pretty chill dude.
Oh.
Maybe he needed to have a heart to heart with the universe about the Munson doctrine. Because if that was wrong, what else had Eddie gotten wrong?
His stomach growled. He bit his lip nervously and looked up at the house. He wasn’t sure if he could risk going up to the house again, not at night anyway. He was going to have to wait until tomorrow to see if he could at least make something to eat.
Maybe he should have asked them to bring something to do while he hid out. He was starting to get bored out his mind.
There was nothing for it, all Eddie could do right now is sleep and hope his soulmate was the natural caretaker all his sheep said he was.
He carefully rearranged the tarp so that it would be easy to pull back over him once he was in the boat and stepped gingerly into it. He got settled and pulled the tarp back over himself, letting the lapping water against the boat lull him to sleep.
*
Steve would like to say that the nap did him good and that he felt refreshed and ready to take on...what did Dustin and Eddie call him? Vickie? No, that was Robin’s crush. Vacuum? He snorted. Definitely not that. Evil wizard dude. He would like to say he felt refreshed to tackle the wizard dude, but the food he ate made him queasy and it made for a fitful sleep.
He opened his wallet and looked to see how much cash he had on hand. It should be enough to get Eddie some food and drink. Eddie had been fairing well enough, but he could use something a bit more substantial. He took out five bucks for gas and shoved it in his top drawer.
Steve looked at the time and groaned. It was too late to go to sleep, but too early to be awake. He shouldn’t have tried napping that late in the evening but this whole thing with the Upside Down being back, no Hopper, no El and even if they did have her, no powers. They had to rely on him. Well, Nancy mostly.
He would gladly relinquish control over to her, if he was being honest.
Steve pulled up his sleeve and rubbed the soulmark thoughtfully. It still glowed a dark sickening red, almost blood like it’s shade. It seemed to thrum beneath his skin like a melody he couldn’t quite make out. It comforted him. He just hoped it comforted Eddie, too.
He looked out at the dark sky that was hours away from dawn. He got changed into a pair of shirts and a swim team t-shirt. It was going to cold out there, but it wouldn’t matter for long. He changed his socks and pulled on a pair of running shoes.
He grabbed his keys and locked the door behind him. He stretched out on his front lawn in the putrid light of the street lamp. Once he was satisfied that he was warmed up enough not to pull a muscle, he started down the road. At first it was gentle lop, not quite a jog, but soon he was running as hard as he could toward the horizon, chasing a dream that he knew he would never be able to keep.
Steve ran until his lungs burned, his muscles ached, and his cheeks were flushed and sweaty from the exertion. He looked up to find that he had somehow ran all the way to the trail park. It had long since been cleared of police and looked more worn and depressing in their wake. Maybe it was the tragedy that clung to every rock of gravel, every concrete walkway, every panel and tin roof.
“Hey, loser,” Max said from her front step. “Can’t sleep either?”
Steve turned and panted, his hands on his knees as he fought for breath. “Yeah, yeah. What’s got you up before the asscrack of dawn? My excuse is that I’m a barely reformed jock.”
Max opened her mouth to answer but closed it again. She just shook her head. Steve turned to look at the roped off trailer that had been Eddie’s home, before he trotted over to her.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” he asked in hushed tone.
Max nodded. She looked down at her worn out shoes, scuffing the side of her right one on the gravel in front of her. “I hate that you and me only found our soulmates because the Upside Down happened.”
Steve hummed in agreement. “I didn’t even think it would be a boy. Never even crossed my mind. Maybe if it had, I would have realized sooner that it was Eddie.”
The silence stretched on between them as around them the sky began to lighten and the trailer park came to life.
She picked at her nails. “I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
“Lucas?” Steve asked, twisting his neck to try and get a better look at her.
She nodded again, refusing to look him in the eye. “I think bad things just happen around me. Maybe I’m cursed.”
Steve snorted. “This town is cursed. But it’s not good what happened to Chrissy. You know who would be able to figure this all out?”
“Nancy?” Max asked.
Steve ruffled her hair. “Right in one. But first I have a soulmate that needs food and I’ll be damned if I let him starve while on the lam for something he didn’t do.”
Max pushed at him. “Don’t say shit like ‘on the lam’, what are you fifty?”
Steve just shook his head. He got to his feet. “I’m going to go home and shower. Then I’ll pick up yesterday’s rogue gallery and we’ll go shopping. I’ve got enough to cover at least a couple of days worth of food for the guy.”
She nodded. “I am sorry, Steve, that he got dragged into this mess, but isn’t it better that he knows? Because then you don’t have to lie to him?”
He sighed. “Is better that he knows? Sure. But it’s not good.”
Max scoffed. “Nothing in this town ever is.”
Ain’t that the truth, Steve thought bitterly. He just waved his hand at her and started back down the road, back to Loch Nora.
****
Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @oxidantdreamboat @mogami13 @samsoble @xandriumbat @ellietheasexylibrarian
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1d1195 · 3 months
Text
Dolcezza VIII
Read Dolcezza here.
Here's the last part. (I actually have more but not sure if it's enough for a full part.) Maybe I'll save it for an extra, please send feedback if you think it needs more. I hope you've enjoyed 💕
Warnings: angst. more stalking. more crying. some fluff. If it helps at all, I wanted THIS part to be a cliffhanger as well (you can make your own guesses where I would have ended it, mwahahaha), and I imagine if that were the case I would have received a lot of hate messages. Hence why the last three parts were so terrifying hehehe
~8.7k words
Harry thought about the first time he met her, when he physically bumped into her. The first expression he ever saw on her face was one of pain from how she fell so hard to the ground. Then there was the night she was sick, and she looked so physically broken, Harry wanted nothing more than to take that away from her with nothing more than minestrone soup. Their argument from a few days ago also induced a sad and broken expression on her pretty face.
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On Friday she worked a half-day at home, which allowed her to get her car fixed—they gave her a rental to assure her the problem wouldn’t continue since it seemed that would be the case after the last bout of car trouble. Her apartment was clean, thanks to Harry. So, all while working quietly at her desk, she had to sit with the fact that even though they were in an argument, he still took care of her. She had to find a way to apologize to him. But unfortunately, Eleanor was right: she was extremely stubborn and hurt that he went through her stuff. It was obvious that going through her stuff wasn’t the problem. She was certain Harry could move in after a month and it wouldn’t feel weird. It was very much that Harry was worried that bothered her. She wished she had hidden the picture better.
After a lot of arguing with Eleanor, they finally came to an agreement. There were a lot of tears from both parties, but Eleanor made her promise that she was the line. She apologized for not telling her and Eleanor apologized for shouting the stuff about her inability to accept help in front of Harry. The irrational part of her brain could only handle one person worrying about her. Eleanor had known her longer and understood her craziness. Harry was wonderful. He probably understood it just as well and yet she couldn’t bring herself to let him in as fully as Eleanor.
On Friday night, she laid on her sofa and watched a lineup of movies that never failed to evoke rivers of tears from her to get them out of her system. All of Saturday was spent agonizing over her frustration with not speaking to Harry, trying, and failing to read her book and mindlessly helping James and Emma with their various requests. She read Emma’s beautiful essays making her feel more overwhelmed with how much her baby sister had grown. Around noon she met James halfway to get him groceries and told him repeatedly that she was fine, just tired each time he asked her what was wrong. Returning to her apartment made her feel exhausted as if it was already midnight. But her mind wouldn’t let her sleep, which would have been preferable.
That antsy feeling she had brought her to the gym. Using the stair climber felt like hell. It was supposed to help but it made her feel worse. Sweaty and more exhausted than ever, she returned to her apartment hoping she would just fall asleep after a while. Instead of helping in the kitchen on a busy Saturday night as she often did, she stayed in, staring at the ceiling above where she was lying on the sofa.
Fortunately, Eleanor FaceTimed her. She explained all her frustration with her family. How she felt so busy and overwhelmed. Her voice cracked and her eyes welled with tears. “I’m really worried about you, babe,” Eleanor frowned. “It’s like senior year all over again,” she reminded her. She knew what she meant—an overwhelming amount of anxiety plagued her as she applied for jobs and completed her final capstone project. All while managing to help James and Ethan with their own applications for college and scholarships. She nodded unable to deny how she felt any longer.
“I know,” she whispered sadly.
“If your car is still broken, why don’t you have Harry pick me up from the airport next week? I’m sure he won’t mind,” she said it so casually and easily.
It seemed they didn’t get to that part of the conversation the other day as Harry probably intended. Sighing heavily, she put her arm across her eyes. “You can’t get mad,” she mumbled.
“Babe,” she whined with a frown and looked at her, already hurt it seemed. “Are you serious?!”
She explained everything. A month ago, about the picture and note—Eleanor was very unhappy to say the least. How she didn’t tell anyone. Then she told her how Harry cleaned her apartment for her even though they were arguing about him telling on her to Eleanor. Then he found the picture. Her ridiculous reaction and why she felt so uncomfortable with people worrying about her.
“I think I’m in love with him.” She whispered, teary and sad with her own actions.
“Obviously,” Eleanor rolled her eyes.
“Maybe...I need to go down to the kitchen,” she sounded like she was suggesting a plan as she spoke to Eleanor. “I have to apologize,” she nodded decidedly. “I have to let him in and let him worry, don’t I?”
“Yes, you idiot,” her voice was devoid of emotion. “I know, really know how hard this is for you, but it’s Harry. He adores you. You can see it on his utterly expressive face. Someone like Harry can’t pretend what he’s feeling—and he wouldn’t either.”
“What if I’m bad at it? What if he doesn’t want to be with someone that’s crazy like me?”
“I’ve never seen you be bad at anything you set your mind too. Harry will forgive you. He’ll help you get better. Knowing him he’ll probably come up with a reward system of garlic bread for you if you want or kisses, if that’s your new thing with him.” She felt woozy listening to her best friend but couldn’t help but smile at the garlic bread idea. “As for not wanting you? You are crazy. Someone who isn’t in love wouldn’t worry about you the way Harry is.”
She listened as her best friend continued speaking but she couldn’t really focus on it suddenly because there was a distinct thud through the wall. A thud that she thought it had to be an actual elephant in the office because she was so sure that Antonio had the apartment sound proofed so thoroughly, that an earthquake could happen in the room next to her and she wouldn’t hear it. She tiptoed to her door, peering sideways through the peephole catching the door to the office was just barely opened.
Antonio was sick. She only knew that because she saw a picture of his sick little family on her Instagram feed earlier in the day. It was why she felt even guiltier about not going down to help in the restaurant because she knew that they would be short-staffed on a busy night without Antonio there.
So why was the door open?
She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.
Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.
“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.
“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more. She hurried to her bedroom with light footsteps praying it looked like she wasn’t home, closing the door as quietly as possible and then doing the same as she hid in her closet. Her heart hammered as Eleanor continued to give her all the reasons why she should just let herself love Harry. Just because she had dealt with people who didn’t appreciate her didn’t mean that Harry would be that way. In fact—
“Eleanor,” she whispered once more. But she heard the deadbolt creak open. Eleanor wasn’t listening to her. She had no choice but to end the call. Ignoring her immediate call back, she furiously texted Eleanor the scariest thing she had ever texted. She heard him creep across her living room floor. Her heart was in her throat, and she was lucky she peed right before Eleanor called when she got home from the gym, or she would have had a serious problem right then.
ANSWER THE PHONE Eleanor texted back.
She silently gulped and pressed the phone to her ear. She listened to Eleanor’s soothing voice. Her calmness despite the fact this was everything she knew Eleanor feared the first time she realized her best friend was being followed. The sound of him going through her stuff made her skin crawl. She should have listened to them; to El, to Louis, to Harry. Oh, she wished she called Harry.
Her body felt frozen with the phone against her ear. She couldn’t move. For everything she did for everyone else, she had never felt like this before. Not once had she ever been frozen in place. She never froze when she was scared—not when ten-year-old Emma broke her arm while she was bike riding and her eighteen-year-old babysitting self needed to hold it in place while James drove them to the hospital. When Ethan called saying James got in a car accident his freshmen year of college and he wrecked his car. When Dad told her that grandma wasn’t going to make it to her twenty-fifth birthday, and she should say goodbye. When Mom was worried about a strange lump she felt on her body, and she imagined life caring for her family without her mom anymore. When she promised to be the designated driver for Ethan and James and ended up standing between Ethan and another guy who had too much to drink arguing over something so ridiculous, she didn’t even remember it now.
Not once had she frozen in place like the way she was then. It was mortifying, all the fight and help she gave to everyone...it wasn’t there for herself.
“I know you can’t talk,” Eleanor whispered. She couldn’t do anything. She was frozen. If he made it to her bedroom, she wasn’t sure she would even be able to fight. That was the scariest realization of all. “I’m going to put you on hold and call Harry. I will be right back. If you don’t hear from me in five minutes, hang up and dial 911.” She hoped to GOD she could manage that if came to it. Hope the frozenness would dissipate long enough to dial 911.
*
It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.
His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.
The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.
“Dolcezza Ristorante. How can—whoa. Okay, okay!" Niall pulled the restaurant phone from his ear and shoved it at Harry. He could hear the shouting before he even brought the phone near his ear.
“Hel—”
“Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!?”
“I’ve been—” He barely got a syllable out before Eleanor was spewing a stream of words that were somehow one sentence. Or maybe it was five sentences. Harry lost track of nearly everything, only understanding the gravity that came from the sound of her shrieking. She only made out a scattering of the important words. His eyes widened as he processed her speech.
Harry dropped the empty dishes of finished food he was holding creating a massive mess. Everyone stopped and looked at him. “Harry?” Niall asked.
There was a breath of silence and frozenness. It was like the sizzle of the food in frying pans, the simmering of sauces in pots had all stopped making noise as well. Then he moved, running the few short steps to the kitchen door to the alleyway. “Call the police!” he shouted over his shoulder. He dropped the phone in the debris as well leaving Niall to fish it away from the broken glass and listen to Eleanor repeat the words she just said to Harry.
*
Harry was outside the back door and taking the steps upstairs two and three at a time. The door to her apartment was already open which made his stomach churn. Quickly and quietly, Harry hurried inside. The place was a mess. It was not her. If Harry hadn’t a more pressing purpose, he would have considered cleaning it up for her again, just to make her happy. All the pretty decorations and all her belongings that made it feel so homey, were overturned, or tipped over. Papers and pictures were across the floor. Like a student on their last day of school, throwing out all the papers from the year in the air like confetti. Harry felt his stomach twist again.
“Who are you?” A voice asked.
Harry turned slowly to the sound of the stranger. The one that had quietly wreaked havoc on her life for so long. Harry’s eyes dropped to the long strap of fabric in his hands. It almost looked like a tie, but it was thicker. Something that was intended to go over her eyes or wrap around her hands, he was sure. His eyes traveled back to the stranger’s face. There was something off about him. His eyes felt hollow. Like there was a misconnection between his brain and the rest of his body.
Harry hadn’t a clue what to do. But this had to be better than her trapped in the apartment with a lunatic.
“I work downstairs. We heard a commotion,” he lied, knowing Antonio added extra insulation and sound proofing to keep the sound of the restaurant out of the apartment. “Where is she?” He asked.
His answering smile was creepy—like he only learned how to smile recently. It was so discomforting Harry felt his stomach flip again with worry. His creepy smile paired with the emptiness of his eyes filling with a look of sick sense of delight made Harry’s skin crawl. It took everything in him to not have a physical reaction to his words. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Don’t know how someone can hide in a small place like this.”
“You need t’leave,” Harry ignoring the words he said. If he didn’t process them, they wouldn’t mean anything. “Now.”
“I thought I lost her,” he ignored Harry. “Then Eleanor... she came to visit and posted that picture of her. You could see the takeout bag in the background. It was a matter of time. I don’t want to lose her again.”
The man was delusional. Harry could see that. But his heart quietly broke for Eleanor, knowing she would lose her mind if she found out she was the reason her best friend was found by this guy. He silently vowed he would keep that to himself for as long as humanly possible.
“Listen. If y’don’t leave. Y’lose her. For good. If y’leave,” he swallowed. It felt like a gulp of vinegar. “Y’might get t’see her again.”
“She likes games,” he remarked rewrapping the strip of fabric around his hand. “It was like a scavenger hunt trying to find her,” he explained. “This is just another game.”
Harry tried to discreetly look for her around the open space. There was no way she was in this open room. There was nowhere to hide. Not unless she was somehow inside her sofa or under the kitchen sink. But... she had to be somewhere. There was only one real way out of the apartment and there was no way she would get through the door and down the creaky steps without him knowing after he saw her exit the rental car.
The wrought iron fire escape wouldn’t fare her much better. He would be down in the alleyway before she reached the bottom. Escaping wasn’t an option. Harry cleared his throat trying to feign innocence and help. “Can I help y’look?”
He nodded easily. Having no clue that Harry wasn’t there for anything other than making sure there wasn’t a commotion because he worked downstairs. It was very clear that he was ill. It made him sick to think she had brushed him off for so long. Played that it wasn’t a big deal. It felt horrible. All of it. Harry’s bones felt like mush.
“I need to check the bedroom and the bathroom.” That much was obvious. He had ransacked her entire apartment.
A fifty percent chance of rain was strong enough for Harry to walk around with an umbrella. When he took tests in his algebra class almost fifteen years ago, narrowing his multiple-choice questions to two choices was the best thing he could manage when he struggled with a question. The coin-flip wins he had with Niall each time they had to vacuum the main room at Dolcezza had left him with an impressive 38-102 record that he was certain the coin was always favored on his behalf.
Right now, a fifty-fifty chance may as well have been the chance of getting struck by lightning or winning the lottery.
Harry had to pick correctly.
He did a quick mental inventory of the bathroom and bedroom. Hiding in the bathroom almost made more sense. The door could lock. But if it was locked, it might make him angry—it seemed almost too obvious of a choice. He would break the door down knowing she was in there. It would be bad. The small linen closet maybe could hide her, but he wasn’t certain. His mind sprinted through the furniture in the bedroom.
“I’ll check the bedroom,” he tried not to run in there suspiciously. He checked under the bed, relieved she wasn’t in there. The tall wardrobe he had helped anchor to the wall after she decided the bookshelf was firmly in place and she had visions of the wardrobe falling on her was also empty. The only real place left that could hide a person was the closet. If she wasn’t in there, Harry would cry.
There was nothing else he could do but open it and see if he was right. It was like he was ripping a band-aid off. He yanked the door out of the way.
Harry thought about the first time he met her, when he physically bumped into her. The first expression he ever saw on her face was one of pain from how she had fallen so hard on the ground. Then there was the night she was sick, and she looked physically broken, Harry wanted nothing more than to take that away from her with nothing more than minestrone soup. Their argument from a few days ago also induced a sad and broken expression on the beautiful face he was so in love with.
Nothing compared to the look of anguish in her eyes and her shaky lower lip right at that moment he found her frozen still in her closet. Her phone was clutched to her ear in both shaky hands. Eleanor undoubtedly at the other end whispering to her to keep calm. Harry had never felt anything like the warmth spreading through his whole body seeing her pretty being there, perfectly whole, and beautiful. Whether she was terrified or not.
The relief Harry felt seeing her before him almost knocked him to his knees before her. There was nothing he wanted more than to hold her, whisk her down the steps, bring her to the kitchen, and feed her as much garlic bread, eggplant parmigiana, and minestrone soup as her heart desired.
He had to get him out of here. He gazed at her for a moment longer, his mouth pursing into a frown and he closed his eyes. “She’s not here,” he said evenly and closed the closet just as quickly as he opened it. He headed back to the main room where he noted that he had in fact, torn apart her bathroom as well. He frowned dejectedly.
“She has to be here. It’s seven-thirty. She’s always home at seven-thirty. That’s when she watches Jeopardy.”
Harry thought he was going to throw up. Knowing her schedule wasn’t something he had fully processed. “Maybe she’s not here,” he suggested.
“No, her car is in her spot. She had to get a rental while her car is in the shop.”
Harry was certain he was going to throw up.
“Maybe she hit traffic,” he tried instead.
“She always leaves time for traffic.” Harry strongly considered just slamming his head into the wall. “You’re lying,” his voice wasn’t accusatory. It was factual. Somehow that was worse. His hands tightened on the length of fabric once more.
“What?” Harry shook his head trying to feign calmness. But his heart started to speed. His fingers started to feel numb.
“She’s in there,” he sounded... excited. Harry’s heart was hammering in his chest. “Honey,” he called almost gleefully and started for the bedroom.
*
She pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Or vomiting. If she made a sound she was done for. Harry knew she was here. She knew Harry was there to protect her. Even after she pushed him away because he was the first person to show her what it was like to be cared for by someone else. Someone who didn’t take advantage of her kindness. Someone who wanted nothing more than to make her feel better when she was down.
She thought she was going to collapse on the floor of her closet when Harry yanked the door out of the way. She didn’t know if it was her stalker at the time. The weight that lifted seeing someone she knew... and someone she knew would help her, crushed her. Harry looked about as pained as she felt, and she didn’t know what to do or say so she simply stood there in shock and let Harry take care of her.
She’s not here. He said closing her back in the closet.
“Oh, thank God,” Eleanor whispered to her ear.
Eleanor had called Harry who knew how many times before she called the restaurant. Within seconds of switching back to her while she hid in the closet, listening to him ransack her living room. “He’s coming,” she promised. “Niall called the police,” her voice was so quiet. “I wanted to get back to you,” she explained. “I... I don’t want him to get away,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, babe,” she could hear Eleanor’s tears and she wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but she was still frozen like a block of ice.
Hearing Harry’s warm voice feign calmness made her melt. Watching the shadowy figure in her room made her want to scream but she was still stuck in place. Eleanor was whispering comforting things. Quietly begging to no one that Harry get to her first.
Her heart was beating so fast and there was sweat on her hairline. Her phone slid in her grip with the anxiety she felt causing her hands to sweat as well. She clutched the phone to her face even harder. Listening to his exchange with Harry and Eleanor’s quiet reassurances did nothing. She was so scared. She closed her eyes as if not seeing the inside of her dark closet would make it go away. Her body was thrumming with a heartbeat that seemed to appear in every inch of muscle. It made everything ache.
“She’s in there,” his voice was excited, and the tears found their way around her hand cupped over her mouth. With her eyes still closed, she could hear Eleanor whispering something, but she was too scared to process the meaning. “Honey!” He called. Like he was home from work, and this was normal. She heard him twist the doorknob to her bedroom.
She was going to be sick.
She inhaled to scream but instead, there was a commotion then. She imagined the soundproofing failed. It surely sounded like two adult men landed hard on the floor, the thud had to have transferred through and down to the restaurant. She was shaking. Every inch of her body. She could hear more of her belongings breaking and toppling hard on the ground. It felt like her lungs were shaking inside her ribcage with each quiet breath she had to take silently. She listened to the grunting and sound of punches landing.
It couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes, but it felt like hours.
The swears and grunting stopped. There wasn’t a sound. Then a door slammed shut. It sounded like the door to the little laundry room. “El,” she whispered soundlessly, her voice hardly loud enough to get the syllable out.
“I’m calling the police again,” she switched the line leaving her in silence. She knew it was the right thing to do, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be left alone with someone entering the room.
“Principessa?” Harry’s voice was in the room.
She was frozen, terrified. What if it was a trap? He had gotten hold of Harry, had a knife to his throat or something equally disastrous. Her hand shook against her ear wishing Eleanor was back already. She couldn’t make sense of it.
“Kitten?” He tried again, his voice was gentle.
Her knees buckled.
“M’gonna open the door, my love,” he whispered softly.
The doorknob turned.
Finally, she had strength again. Her fight, flight, and frozen abilities finally shifted from frozen to fighting. She threw herself at him hoping to knock him off his feet and out of balance. She was so worried that it was still a trick. She was going to run downstairs and into the kitchen ruining the dinner rush, but it would well be worth it.  She was too scared to process anything that was happening and she threw her bodyweight at him and threw her fists at him as best she could.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Harry gently cooed, grabbing her wrists as she tried to wrangle herself away from him now that she had thrown him off balance. “Hey, hey, Principessa,” she continued squirming and throwing weak punches at him while still terrified. She was grateful she wasn’t so scared that she couldn’t fight back after all.
Despite everything, he was so proud of her for not giving up. Even if the danger was completely gone just yet. “Hey, s’okay, now, Principessa, m’here,” he promised and gave her wrists a soft squeeze. She finally stopped, going limp in his arms as she realized she was attacking Harry and not her stalker. Harry gave her a forced smile. Mixed with a grimace. “You’re okay, kitten. M’here,” he repeated cupping the side of her face so he could lock his gaze with hers. See that it was alright, that she was safe now.
She broke.
It was a miracle she could still stand but she probably had Harry to thank for that. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered her eyes flooding with tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” she sniveled covering her face now that Harry had released her. “I thought I could... I thought I could handle it. Handle it all...” she hiccupped. “But I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I was so scared, Harry,” she whimpered. Harry knew his face wasn’t holding neutral or positive. He felt as broken as she sounded. “I’ve been tired and scared for so long and there’s been no one—” her sob choked her words.
Harry thought his heart was going to split right in the middle. If it did, he wanted to give her half of it just to make her whole again. Just to make the pain stop. He tucked her head beneath his chin and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Oh, Principessa,” he cooed. “M’here,” he promised kissing the top of her head and soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine. “M’here.”
“I—” She tried to speak but the tears and emotions coursing through her stopped her vocal cords again.
“Shh, my love, shh,” he cupped the side of her face against her chest. His thumb stroked her damp cheek, and he kissed her hairline again. “M’here,” he repeated the promise. She was overwhelmed by how warm Harry was. His arm wrapped around her waist holding her tight against him. It was the first time she felt safe in hours... weeks if she was honest with herself. Harry held her silently, letting the tears and shaky sobs subside as her body shook against him. It made his chest tight with anxiety. To think she had been holding in all those emotions for so long just so others wouldn’t worry about her. “M’always going t’worry ‘bout you, kitten. Danger or no danger,” he promised.
She sniffled and pulled away from his embrace so she could wipe her hand on her cheek and Harry smudged his thumb across her other cheek brushing the tears away. Harry was scanning her face making sure he got each salty drop and every tear track off her face. As he did, she couldn’t stop staring at his concentrated expression. “I think I love you,” she whispered.
It was as if someone had put a defibrillator on his chest and shocked him. It felt like his heart was beating twice as much and he could hardly breathe as she whispered those perfect, beautiful, sweet words. His thumb stopped smoothing over her skin. His gaze dropped to her eyes again, as she looked at him, her breath shaky and she sniffled again shaking her whole body again. He started to laugh. Despite the situation, despite the worry, despite everything that was going to happen as the impending sirens got closer and closer to them. “I know I love you, Principessa,” he tilted her head up beneath her chin.
He did know. He loved her so much. It was overwhelming. The moment he laid eyes on her. The moment he touched her arms and helped her to her feet. When he had carried her things to her apartment. When she played with Leo. When she was sick. Each time she helped in the kitchen. Or when she bought him the book that he looked at for thirty seconds longer than all the rest. Every single second of knowing her, he fell more and more in love with her.
“Even though—”
He shook his head, rubbed his thumb on her lip to silence her. “I love you,” he said simply. The red and blue lights illuminated her apartment, and she heard more scary thuds ascending the staircase. “Nothing else.” She sank into his embrace and allowed herself to let go. Let someone else take care of things for a few moments.
*
The police were thorough. They stationed someone outside the building. Harry didn’t let go of her hand and wouldn’t let her leave his side. He was insistent she stay in the bedroom as they entered. They took pictures of everything in her place and Harry stood conveniently in front of the bedroom entryway while they brought her stalker outside. Harry assured Eleanor that she was okay while she cried against him. She would call back in a bit, but they had stuff to deal with.
“Thank you,” he croaked gratefully. The thankfulness he felt for Eleanor was so immense.
“Yeah, same to you,” she sniffled. “Don’t forget to call me,” she said seriously despite the sadness in her voice.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised. The police asked about a thousand questions which was exhausting in its own right. Niall finally rushed up, seeing the police bringing the guy down and he nearly got himself arrested for being so swift.
“He’s okay,” she promised with a shaky voice. They let Niall enter, who immediately gave her a huge, awkward hug because Harry wouldn’t let go of one of her hands.
“The whole restaurant is in limbo worried about you. All the regulars are worried about you,” he sighed. “I had to come up,” he explained sheepishly.
“I’m sorry—”
“Oh my God,” Harry shook his head and Niall kissed the side of her head.
“Tesorino,” he chuckled. “It’s so okay.”
“But Harry’s not—”
“Harry needs to be up here with you,” he promised. “The restaurant is very understanding,” he explained. “This isn’t something to worry about, Tesorino,” his tone was so reassuring. “M’gonna go back down and spread the good news,” he smiled. “In the morning, we’ll have breakfast, yeah?” He asked glancing at Harry briefly. He nodded quickly. She wasn’t leaving his side and she certainly wasn’t spending the night without him
She nodded with another smile. “Please.”
“I’ll cook this time,” he winked and squeezed her one more time before heading back down.
With the open door to her place, she couldn’t mistake the thundering applause the erupted from the restaurant below her. It made her tears begin to flow again. After several more questions, an EMT scanning her for any sort of damage and repeating her statement at least two more times with the help of Harry, she thought they were finally done.
“Hey!” One of the officers shouted. Harry looked the most alarmed and shoved her protectively behind him as the sound of thundering footsteps echoing up the stairs once more.
“Where is she?!” He sounded like he was going to cry.
“James?” She whispered, pushing herself from behind Harry.
“Oh, thank God,” he strode across the room, stepping on overturned debris and even though she was older than him, he lifted her off the ground. But that’s when the tears started. “Jesus Christ, Sis, why didn’t you tell me?!” He croaked. She blinked in surprise holding onto him as he crushed her to his body. Her lips parted in shock. She glanced at Harry who smirked at her with a touch of sadness in his eyes.
However, there was more commotion downstairs. “I’m her mother!” She could hear the anguish and felt it in every inch of her body.
“Oh my God,” she whispered beside James’ ear and looked up at Harry once more.
“I got it,” Harry pressed his hand on her back. Her feet were back on the floor, but James still didn’t let go. Harry quickly looked down the steps to assess the new guests. “Y’can let them up. S’her family.”
Emma looked practically animalistic, flying up the stairs, almost on all fours with the speed she took the steps.  She made it to the doorway—nearly shoving Harry out of the way and all but crawling across the floor with the momentum she had built up making her way up the steps. She flung herself at her siblings wiggling herself between James who still had not let go of his older sister for a moment. “How could you?!” Emma sobbed, muffled, and squished between her brother and sister.
“Oh, my,” she whispered. “Em, I’m—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re okay,” she hissed but remained clinging to her.
Her parents soon joined their hug asking a thousand questions that she was simply too exhausted to answer. “You don’t want to get in on this?” She asked with a watery voice. Her words floated over Emma and James who refused to let go of each side of her after a kiss on the top of her head from both her parents. Ethan was last in the room, he stood idly near them. He smirked at her question.
“Want my own hug, beautiful,” he winked. Harry snorted, ignoring the jealousy running through him because he believed Ethan was probably way more worked up than he was letting on for the sake of looking like a normal person. She felt her face warm and glanced at Harry who was smirking. “You gave us all the scare of a lifetime.”
Harry was asked to relay the story to her parents, which he did so gratefully. The shock and hurt they had on their faces realizing this was the first they knew of someone stalking their baby.
“Ethan had to drive,” Emma sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve as she finally pulled away from the embrace. James didn’t want to let go, it seemed. He stood so close to her, his arm touching her. Like he was pressing into her side.
“Sounds like you all had scarier things to deal with,” she looked at Ethan who scooped her up again lifting her off the ground the same way James had. He kissed the side of her head, and she squeezed him back. Ethan wrapped her in his embrace when he whispered something in her ear with a smile. Almost immediately, she pulled from him and punched his arm. “You always ruin something nice.”
“Sweetie, that is not funny,” her mom said tearfully turning her attention to Harry. “Thank you,” she said seriously.
She giggled, making Harry’s heart sing now that he wasn’t as worried. “It’s kind of funny.”
James hadn’t moved from her side, looking at her in awe. His oldest sister was his hero. This hurt him so much. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.
“James,” she sighed.
“No! Why didn’t you tell me? I would have—”
“There was nothing you could do, James,” she whispered. His lower lip wobbled, and his eyes filled with tears. He looked at the floor. She knew he was upset, obviously.
“One of the people at my internship, said your name out loud. I read the transcript it was Eleanor... I... I didn’t know this address. I had to look up the restaurant. I...”
“Jamie,” she hadn’t used that name since they were young. James had been James since he started kindergarten. She reached out for him again, tugged him toward her. “I’m okay,” she promised. “It’s okay,” she said soothingly, rubbing her hand up and down his back and tucked him into her embrace, holding the back of his neck as he shook with sobs.
It broke Harry’s heart knowing she was comforting her family over something that happened to her. But maybe it helped. Distracted her for the moment until she was able to deal with this. Harry wasn’t letting her go the second they left. He would comfort her the way she deserved as soon as they were gone.
Harry’s phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Eleanor. He said hello, flipped the camera around, and showed off the room. “Jeez, you let Ethan and James throw a party?” Her voice cut through all the comfort and tears.
“I resent that, Eleanor,” Ethan rolled his eyes.
“How are you doing, babe?” She asked with a smirk, seeing her holding James like he was her little brother again and not a foot and some taller than her.
She was still holding James who refused to remove his face from her neck. “I’m good,” she promised. “Thank you.”
“It was a team effort,” Eleanor smiled. “Think Harry deserves the biggest of thanks,” she said knowingly.
She nodded against James’ hold and looked over to Harry. “Mmm,” she hummed. “I think so too.”
*
Her family stayed in her apartment. They were insistent. Now that the pictures were taken, they were going to clean it up. All five of them. “Dibs on the underwear drawer!” Ethan said excitedly.
“You’re disgusting,” her dad grumbled.
“Can you arrest him too?” She turned to the police officer with an eye roll.
He pouted and the officer chuckled. “A guy can hope,” he shrugged helping James with the kitchen. Her mom helped her pack a bag for Harry’s, telling her how nice her place was. Even ransacked. It smelled delicious. Her dad was impressed with how the furniture was anchored to the wall and when told it was Harry’s doing, he thanked him once more for caring about his eldest.
Niall made a second trip up with a box of food for everyone to eat. Everyone sat and ate, moaning about how good everything tasted amidst the messy overturned furniture, broken glass from picture frames, and other decorative things. No one minded. Emma sat next to her as well as James who refused to let his gaze move from her.
“I’m okay,” she murmured to both. She kissed the top of Emma’s head and patted James’ knee. He shook his head holding his phone up to show him all the texts from his girlfriend.
I know you’re busy, but please keep me updated. I’ve never met her but I’m also super worried.
She frowned look at James with watery eyes. “I love her already,” she promised.
There was a lot of logistics to figure out. Her mom said they planned on leaving early in the morning to get belongings back home before returning to a hotel nearby so they could help with whatever she needed for the next couple days. “You’ll stay at Harry’s for a few days?” She asked, glancing at Harry.
“Yes,” he said before she could brush it off. “M’not...” he smirked and looked at his lap. “Don’t want her out of m’sight,” he admitted.
“Good,” everyone nodded in agreement.
“You don’t need to stay,” she assured them. “It’s really okay now.”
“Forgive me, but I have a hard time believing you now,” her mom made the same angry face that she always made. A crease between her eyebrows, a frown on the corners of her mouth.
“I know that you just went through something scary,” Emma began. “But do you think—”
“Jesus Christ, Emma!” James nearly shouted.
“Let me finish!”
“You’re such a selfish brat! You’re probably the reason she didn’t tell us with all your essays and—”
“Children—” her mother started.
“ME? You’re the one she’s been buying groceries for because you spend your money before it reaches your bank account—"
“You two knock it off!” Her dad shouted. Ethan snickered and shook his head chomping on the garlic bread that Harry honestly wanted to yank out of his hand so there was more for her to eat. She smirked and turned to Emma, her back to James, which Harry was sure felt like a slap in the face to him.
“What do you need, Em?” Harry kind of wanted to yell at Emma too for asking for something. But he waited because obviously the sweet girl knew her sister better and clearly sensed something kind at the end of her request.
“Could we make cookies together, tomorrow?” She asked, looking like the little girl that broke her arm and she had to comfort for a whole car ride.
“Yeah,” she smiled. “I’d like that,” she promised. “You two will have to help too,” she said looking at James and Ethan. James was scowling at Emma’s satisfied smile of being right.
Ethan smirked. “Would love to see you in an apron, beautiful.”
*
Harry drove her back to his place before the restaurant closed. Niall said he would hang back for longer to give them time to get settled peacefully. Harry refused to let go of her hand. It was almost eleven thirty when they parked in his driveway. The exhaustion was so heavy it was a miracle she could stand. But Harry was probably to thank for that.
There wasn’t much talking in the car, but she was glad to hold his hand. She knew they had lots to discuss but she was tired. Harry was surely tired too. He grabbed her bag. “Do you think Ethan and James should sleep in the living room?” She asked suddenly as Harry unlocked the front door. Harry could see her mind spinning rapidly. It was like she was awake again, caught a second wind from the spiral in her own mind. “Just in case? I don’t want something to happen to Emma or my mom. Oh, I’ll have to fix Antonio’s office tomorrow. Oh... oh we didn’t tell Antonio—”
“Principessa,” Harry ushered her inside and dropped her bag on the living room floor. In the same movement, he cupped her face, and looked her squarely in the eyes. He pressed his thumb on her lips, silencing her. At once, her eyes softened. The forehead crease disappeared. Harry thought this was better than winning an award just to see her relief coat her face thanks to his gentle encouragment. “S’okay,” he promised and kissed the tip of her nose. “We’re not worrying about anything else for tonight.”
“But... I feel really bad!” she pouted below his thumb making a rush of electricity throw through him where his thumb touched her lips. “I know I hurt your feelings and I wanted to talk—”
“Kitten,” he shook his head. “Not tonight,” he promised. “Y’went through something really scary—”
“So did you!”
“—and s’far as m’concerned, you are a hundred percent forgiven. M’glad you’re alright. We can discuss anything y’want in the morning,” he promised. “But we’re not worrying ‘bout anything but kissing and sleeping tonight,” his voice was so serious, and it made her flush that pink color Harry worried she wouldn’t show him after their argument. It felt like ages since he had seen it when realistically it hadn’t been more than two days.
“Well, can we worry about the shower or something? I feel like I smell terrible, and I need to get this night off me,” she wrinkled her nose cutely.
“I think y’smell good,” he chuckled tucking his face into her neck and pecking at her skin. “Can y’even stand long enough for a shower?”
“I’m not getting in your bed all sweaty and gross,” she yawned. “I’ll sleep in the shower if that’s the case.”
He smiled. “Whatever y’say, my love.”
Harry gave her a head start on the shower and texted Antonio a brief update just in case he felt better tomorrow and made it in. After a few questions and a couple more reassurances that everything was okay, Harry finally told him about the most annoying part. I’ll clean up the office... he sent a row of eye-rolling emojis as well. Followed by the vexing part. She’s worried that it’s her fault and wants to assure you it will be clean.
Harry was surprised he was awake, but maybe the kids were keeping him up with whatever illness they were feeling. Tell her to shut up and she better not or I’ll never let her have garlic bread from the kitchen ever again.
Harry smiled, stripped his clothes off, and stepped into the warm steam along with her to get the grime from the day off. “I love you,” he reminded her.
She smiled. “I love you too,” she said sweetly. He cupped her damp face, brushing the suds from her shampoo away from her eyes and he kissed her so deeply and warmly, it felt like he was putting her back together with just a kiss.
*
Harry slipped on a pair of boxers and grabbed her bag to put in his room. She sat in just a large T-shirt she had left behind and a pair of his boxers as well on the edge of his bed. Harry brushed her hair for her and put lotion all over her body massaging the back of her legs and kissing her softly once he finished. As soon as her hair was brushed and toweled dried enough that she felt comfortable laying on his bed with damp hair, she slunk into his mattress and pillows with a long, heavy sigh. Harry immediately followed suit and wrapped his body around her. He kissed the back of her head and sighed in complete happiness.
His phone pinged with a text from Niall, stretching away from her long enough to find out he was pulling down the road. He knew that Niall did so that Harry wasn’t alarmed when the light from his headlights slid over the room and made him worried when someone entered the home. He still clutched her closer as he heard Niall shuffle right by his door, still nervous. But, somehow, she was nearly snoring already.
“Principessa,” he hummed.
“Hmm?” He wasn’t sure she was even a quarter awake. Maybe it was reflex to answer.
“I love you,” he kissed the back of her head. “So much,” he murmured.
She twisted awkwardly, exhaustedly, to face him. Harry draped his arm around the front of her pulling her closer to him despite the fact she could kiss the space between his collarbone if she wanted to. Beneath the covers she curled the arm closest to the mattress against his chest and the other held onto his hard hip. Harry pressed his lips to her forehead. Holding her in place and enjoying the feel of her soft skin below his lips. “I love you too,” she answered.
“Principessa,” he whispered. “I know y’need t’sleep. M’sorry. I really need t’say this,” he brought his hand back to her face and stroked his thumb against her cheek. She almost perked up completely, like she was fully awake. Harry felt a pang of worry course through him. She was so ready to give anything and everything of herself just for him. Probably for anyone. He imagined if James or Emma called right then asking for her to come back, she would. “You don’t bother me,” his voice was quiet, but deep. It made her whole body ache to hear him say it. “Ever. I was going to come up and apologize during dinner,” he admitted.
“Oh,” she giggled every so lightly. “I was going to go down and do the same,” she responded.
He chuckled and felt relief flow through him. “Really?” She nodded against his body.
“I won’t push you away... or I won’t like that. It’s going to take some time but... I really want to be better about accepting you being there for me. I really want that. I promise. I’m so sorry, I yelled at you,” she whispered.
“S’okay, kitten. I know... I know s’not easy,” he kissed between her eyebrows and rid herself of the pinch. “You’re forgiven. M’gonna help y’no matter what. No matter how much y’might not want me to,” he chuckled softly again.
“That’s...the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said or done for me,” she nosed at his chest sighing contentedly getting ready to fall asleep wrapped in Harry’s warm embrace.
It was perfect. She was so grateful for that little apartment. That perfect restaurant. Everything. “Sweetest, Principessa?” he repeated tiredness coating his voice, but he could talk to her for hours and hours tomorrow. But for now, he wanted her to know before she fell asleep. “For you, la mia dolcezza, y’deserve all the sweetness and more.”
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You've always been beautiful | Katsuki Bakugou x Chubby!Reader
Summary: After a bad date, Bakugou comforts you
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Being in love was hard. Being in love with Katsuki Bakugou was even harder.
We went to middle school together and he was an ass. He thought because he had an amazing quirk that made him better than everyone else, I didn't like that. Izuku is my best friend and a target for bullies. I would take no shit. I stood up for Izuku many times, using my water quirk to counteract Bakugou's explosions. He turned a nasty shade of red whenever I did that.
Izuku learnt how to stand up for himself in UA and developed into an amazing hero so I wasn't needed as much to fight off the bullies, which meant me and Bakugou became nothing but classmates. That was until I began to fall for him.
It was easy, natural. I first started noticing him, like really noticing. The way he would train in class, the way his back muscles would tense under his costume when we would be in class, everything. I didn't tell anyone. There was no way he would like me or even find me attractive, so I kept it to myself.
It was around the middle of third year, when I had turned eighteen, that I started dating. I was on the usual apps and met a few people from there, most of them nice, some neutral and one guy a complete dick.
This one guy, lets call him Pete, was an asshole. I have always been big. Despite the training and the diet, I was big. It rarely bothered me and it never effected my training. I was happy with the way I looked.
I dressed in a maxi length, bodycon dress that clung to my hips, ass and my belly. I wore a cropped denim jacket to keep the cold out. I felt confident and wore light makeup and hoop earrings.
I came down from my dorm room and passed the living room, where everyone was having a movie night. I couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed and my cheeks heated up.
Mina was the first to notice me as I tried to sneak passed and wolf whistled. "Damn mama!"
The whole class turned then and the whistling continued.
I couldn't help but glance at Bakugou. He did not whistle but he eyes were fixed on me. I placed my hands in front of my belly and walked quickly to the door, wanting to escape his gaze.
"Shut up!" I exclaimed as I opened the door.
"Use protection!" I heard Mina shout and I giggled out the door.
We agreed to meet at a restaurant. I turned up ten minutes late and found him siting near the window.
"Hey!" I greeted and he looked up.
He looked at me with wide eyes as I sat down.
That's when I knew, he didn't think I was going to be big.
My pictures did not hide anything, I showed everything as I had enough of being turned down because of my weight. He seemed to expect someone smaller.
The first red flag was when I ordered.
"I'll have a burger please." I shut the menu and handed it to the waitress with a smile.
"Really?" He said, his eyebrow turned up.
"Yeah?"
He didn't reply but his eyes were wide, I held my tongue.
The food was really good but he barely spoke. He kept glancing at me.
We ended the date and I couldn't wait to get out. I knew he wasn't interested and made me split the bill.
We were outside, he was waiting for a taxi. I said, "Thanks for the date."
He scoffed, putting a cigeratte between his teeth. "Well, you should really warn your dates you're fat in the future, by the way."
Despite everything, it stung.
"Yeah?" I said, my anger building. "Well you should warn your dates you're a short asshole, by the way."
I turned on my heel and walked away. My anger made me walk fast until I got closer to the dorms and I began to cry.
It was stupid. I liked how I looked but the comments were hard sometimes. I had been told my whole life that unless I lost weight, no one would ever love me. I believed for a long time. I tried everything, every diet you can think of. I starved myself, made myself sick but this is it. I am just big. I train everyday and eat well to be a hero for fucks sake, I am not unhealthy. But, a small part of me still believed that.
I made it to the dorms and sat down on the porch steps, sobbing.
I kept crying until I heard the front door open, I wiped my tears as quickly as I could. I looked up and saw Bakugou standing there, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Can you cry any louder?" He said before sitting next to me, sighing.
I chuckled humourlessly, wiping my eyes. "Sorry."
He looked at me curiously, "What no 'fuck off'?"
I shook my head, "Not in the mood to fight tonight Bakugou."
He stayed quiet for a bit before, "Does this have something to do with your date?"
I looked over at him for a minute. "Do you really wanna hear about it?"
He nodded, serious. Weird.
"Well, the guy was obviously expecting someone who looked very different from me." My throat caught and I breathed evenly. "He barely spoke and kept just...glancing. I ordered a burger and he was all like 'really?' You know? Insinuating I should eat a salad or something."
Bakugou scoffed, his face contoured in familiar anger.
"I ignored it and carried the conversation. At the end, I said thank you and you know what he said?"
I looked over at Bakugou, tears in my eyes. He inclined his head. I looked away.
"He said, 'next time you should warn your dates your fat'. Like the way I am and the way I look should come with a warning label...its not like I hide it, all my pictures you can see I'm big."
We stayed quiet for a while and I silently cried.
"Y/N..." Bakugou began and I looked over. He didn't look angry now, he looked murderous. "I hope you know you deserve a lot better than that asshole."
I began to speak and he cut off me off. "Just because your big doesn't mean your unattractive. If anything, you're even more attractive for it."
I stayed silent, taking it all in. It was strange, hearing Bakugou be so nice to me.
"You've always been beautiful, even when we were kids. Don't let one asshole make you this upset."
My stomach clenched as he spoke, taking in his words. Oh my god. I couldn't believe it.
I looked at him, my mouth parted slightly. "You mean it?"
He looked forward, refusing to meet my eyes but nodded.
I grinned, leant forward and kissed his cheek lightly. He tensed up but I stood up before he could say anything. He looked up at me, a slight pink to his cheeks that made my stomach erupt with butterflies.
"You're beautiful too, Katsuki." I said and then quickly escaped back into the dorms.
The look on his face, rosey cheeks and lips parted made me burst with hope. Maybe, just maybe, my crush on him is reciprocated.
A/N: I really enjoyed writing this! As a big girl myself I love writing this kind of thing, send in your requests!
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signedeclipse · 1 year
Note
Hello! I was the one with the cannibalism request. 🫣 I really loved the headcanons you wrote! 😊
I would like to make another headcanon request for Kokushibo, Hantengu and Kaigaku with a reader who's blind. They could see when they were much younger, but now most of their vision is lost, and they have difficulty navigating at night. At first they didn't even recognized the other as a demon but were very accepting when they found out. Now they hate to be away from their demon partner and would rather spend every minute with them. I can also see them utilizing their condition to lure in victims (by asking for help) for their demon to eat.
Thank you in advance and I hope you have a great day! ☺️
Hantengu | Kaigaku | Kokushibo [X Reader]
In which their s/o is blind, and helps them lure humans in for eating.
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Hantengu
Ever since he met you, alone and lost, he felt pity that you had been left to nothing for something out of your control
Of course, you were just like him, so he would protect you if it meant protecting his own ego
But you were so kind, and you didn't say anything cruel or judgemental to him, he could go as far as to say you depend on him
He liked that a lot, it made him feel special
Being apart of him, the clones didn't touch you either, either amused by your lack of sight, feeling pity, overtaken by anger at those who wronged you, or liking having something so new around
Fortunately all their eyes were different, save for Hantengu and Sekido, so it was easy to tell them apart if not for their personalities
In no way was the Upper four weak, but sometimes he was a bit...scared
He noticed how you attracted people to him, and how easy it was for him to kill once secluded
So you did it more so he could kill, instead of his clones
You empowered him and all of his egos, fueled him and made him far more powerful
God forbid someone you're luring try to harm you, they'd be dead before they can even realise what's happening, and left to rot
Him and the clones don't find trash all that delicious
Kaigaku
He found you quite pathetic all things considered
Lost with no one around, stumbling and trying to find some kind of light so you could gather your bearings
Those electric blue eyes of his, they pulled you into a false sense of hope
But through your words, so unknowing of who he was, you convinced him to humour you for awhile, as if playing a game
Kaigaku gets attached similar to how you do, but far more possessive and jealous
In a messed up way he likes that you can't see well because it means you'll only ever know him best
The fact that only he can protect you and keep you safe gives him a superiority complex, but he rarely beats down onto you about it
Your kindness is hard to combat, but he does act like he hates it
In his months as a demon, it was hard to find people to kill without making a scene, and when you saw him starving like that, you convinced yourself you could bring someone back
And with a false story about someone robbing you, three men were lured into your shared home for the slaughter
He kept it clean so you wouldn't get sick- not that you'd really notice- and since then encouraged the behaviour
Once he heard a group of people bullying you for falling in mud after you slipped
It was the only time he decided to make a real mess, leaving trails of organs across the street for all to see
You had to move but he found a better place anyways
Kokushibo
Kokushibo can be very quiet, so when you call out to him or he feels the need to say something, it usually scares you half to death
Once caught your arm moments from hitting him because you felt something on your neck and figured it was an insect- it was his breath
Tends to be unhelpful because he wants you to adapt as much as you can, and to remain independent
But on the rare occasion he'll allow you to cling to his sleeve and step slowly through darkened places
Might let you get minor injuries from walking into things but he would never allow you to gain a scar
The first time you lured someone, it was an accident
He had left without telling you, and in a panic you yelled out for him while falling
A hunter heard this and came to your aid, but Kokushibo had them handled moments before they even touched you
It happened mostly by accident
But if he was ever weakened, upset, or having trouble getting someone from a crowd?
He'll just say he needs a favour, and then leave you stranded in the street until someone comes prancing
If anyone does the opposite of helping and tries to harass you, he'll make sure their death is prolonged
Consider a thousand deep-ish wounds, so they can bleed out till morning
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Authors Note - Honestly so rare for a Kaigaku request which makes me sad cuz ahhh I love him! He's really great and deserves more fanfics... But thank you for coming back Shrew (if i can call you that), your last request was such a hit I think ive written 2-3 extra requests off of it already haha!
Please enjoy and come back soon!
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thebearer · 10 months
Note
I can see Carmy loving when you cook for him, even if you’re not the greatest cook. You could make grilled cheese and tomato soup and he’d devour it
oh god non, i'm having big thoughts about this one.
it's close to mikey's death date, and carmy always gets a certain way. either he buries himself in work to the point he can barely breathe bc he doesn't want to think about it, or he just refuses to speak to anyone. just recluses himself to be in his own misery and depression.
this year was the latter.
carmy had called out of work- well, not called out. he just didn't show up, which was unusual. you'd texted richie that morning and he understood entirely. the bear was successful, he was making mikey's dream a reality, and still, it hit him hard this year. he stayed in bed, just rolled on the side to look out the window, watching the rain pour down over the city.
carmy wasn't great with words, truly. he struggled to tell you how he felt, find the right things to say, so he would always bring you food as an apology or a way to show you he loved you. you recognized the gesture as an act of love, one that was constant. making your favorite meals, cooking for you in a celebratory way, "i made that recipe you sent me", or when you were sick. it was his love language, what he loved to do and what he was certain in.
you, while you were far from skilled the way carmen was, wanted to show how much he meant to you back. you knew he wouldn't want to talk, he would talk to you if he wanted, but you didn't want him to feel so alone. so you made the one thing you knew to make- a grilled cheese and tomato soup.
it was juvenile, a little silly. you used the sour dough bread and the three layers of cheese- a far cry from the white and american you always made before carmy- and heated up a campbell's soup on the stove, adding your own spices to try and spruce it like carmy would. it wasn't great, you knew that, not close to what he could make, but you put it on a tray anyways, making your way to your shared bedroom.
"carmy," you called softly, peeking into the still dark room, illuminated only by the grey skies spilling in from the window.
he rolled over, dull, blue eyes meeting yours in a half lidded, sullen expression. your heart fell. "i, uh, i made you some lunch, baby." you hummed, moving closer, the spoon rattling against the bowl.
carmen sat up slowly, looking at the contents on the tray carefully. you rolled your lip under your teeth. "it's, uh, it's not like fancy or anything." you said quickly. "it's just... when i used to feel bad, i-i would always make this and, um, i just thought you might like it too. or-or it might help but-"
"-thank you." carmen's eyes shined, looking up at you sweetly. "this is... it looks great." he swallowed around the lump in his throat, thick with emotion.
you beamed, looking down at your feet. "thanks. it's nothing, really. i just thought you'd want something." you muttered, running a hand over his greasy curls. "i'll, uh, i'm gonna finish the laundry but i'll-"
"stay with me." carmen looked up at you, eyes rounding so sweetly how could you possibly say no? "please?"
so you did. sitting next to him in the bed, stealing nibbles of the grilled cheese, muttering sweetly next to him. was it the best? to you, no. it needed more flavor and was not even comparable to anything carmen made. but to him? it was perfect. the best meal on earth. he'd eat it every single fucking day if he could because it came from you.
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thefishermansharbor · 11 months
Note
Hear me out pook M6 with a reader who specializes in earth magic think flowers plants etc RAAAH‼️‼️‼️
The M6 with an S/O who specializes in plant-based magic!
The arcana x GN!Reader!Headcanons
Muriel the outsider:
In all honesty, Muriel will be the most appreciative of your gift out of everyone. He loves the forest, and he loves you. Now those two things combined. He’s overjoyed!
He decides that your magic would be useful, and invites you on his weekly trips around the forest. It’s actually quite cute, he makes it into a romantic hike for the two of you. 
If you decide that you don’t want to take care of the forest with him, or that it’s too strenuous for you, he’ll respect your boundaries and admire your magic from afar instead. 
He does ask you for help on certain things, but he’s always considerate of how it will affect you, and if it’s a want or a need. 
Muriel will also openly admit to you how impressed he is of your skill. If you’re feeling particularly insecure that day, or he just feels like complimenting you, that’s his go - to for compliments. 
Asra Alnazar:
At first, he’s unsure of how to react. He tries to figure out how it works in comparison to his own magic, so that way he can help teach you effectively. 
He also, much like Muriel, does take a minute to admire your magic every now and again. As a fellow magician, he understands how hard magic is to do - and yet you make it look so beautiful and simple, he really is in awe of not only of how effortlessly you do it, but how pleasing you make it look.
He won’t ask you to do anything. He doesn’t want to strain you, but he wants you to know that he admires it - so he’ll give you pointers on your magic but also compliment it.
As a fellow magician, he’d also like to learn some of your plant - based tricks. How to make a flower grow, or how to get a vine to contort to another shape, so he’ll ask you how you manage to do certain things. 
He’s very proud of you, he says it every now and again but it’s hard to explain how proud he is of you and your unique magical skills. 
Nadia Satrinava:
She finds it intriguing. She wants to know how exactly it works. It’s more of a study than admire thing. 
It surprised her at first. She didn’t know much about any magic, let alone that there were specific types that could mean and do different things for different people. She finds it a bit confusing, but once she gets the hand of it - she asks to study it. 
She loves watching you work your magic. She thinks less of the magic, and more of you. There’s nothing she respects more than hard work, and watching you perform your talents is something she’ll never get sick off. 
She has too much self - respect to ask you for a demonstration out right, but it crosses her mind every now and again and she uses repetition as a soft suggestion to try and get you to do it. 
Nadia also tries to think of how your talent would benefit her. She’s not too shy to ask you for favors, but like Muriel, she stays within reason and doesn’t want to make you overwhelmed or uncomfortable with the amount of tasks she asks of you.
Portia Devorak: 
She finds it so cool! She’s literally sweating when she first sees it, first of all - it’s so hot to her to see you work, second of all, your work is so majestic and amazing to her! Bonus points if you give her a flower that your magic made, she’ll literally swoon over you. 
She daydreams about doing it to. She may be the slightest bit jealous of your tricks, but she doesn’t let it get in the way of praising you. She does really wish she could do it too, just thinking of all the pranks and schemes she could cook up with magic like that. 
Portia is one of the very few who isn’t expecting or asking you to do something for them with the magic. She’s completely relaxed about you doing in your own time, and doesn’t ask or pressure you to do it when she wants you to. 
Whenever she talks to anyone about you ( which is often ) she’s sure to mention it. She wants everyone to know just how awesome you are, and just how lucky she is. She’s not shy about praising you around other people. 
She gets curious - and asks lots of questions about what you can do with the magic, if there’s any cool things you can make, change, or do. She won’t make you show her, but it’s one of the things she’s most curious about. 
Lucio Morgasson:
Incorporates it into his flirting and pick - up lines. It’s really cheesy, but it’s also very sweet and shows that he puts at least some effort into flirting and doesn’t just re-use whatever he told to his last partner. 
He loves the feeling of you showing off to him, it makes his chest puff up with pride whenever you demonstrate to him. It makes him feel special, and like you care a lot about him. He really likes it. 
Whenever he gets bored of doing paperwork and you’re in the room, he’ll ask you to show him a trick or do something in the background to just give him some white noise and something to focus on while he works. 
He also uses your magic as a party trick - Lucio’s known to be a wild party animal, and he’s practically beaming whenever you agree to show off your skills to kick the party up a notch. 
A lot like Portia, he wishes to do the same, but he’s too proud to admit it to you or ask for lessons and just lets that jealousy sit in his mind. Sometimes when he’s on his own, he waves his hands around and pretends that he’s casting your magic. 
Julian Devorak:
His first reaction is that it’s incredible. But later on, he starts to connect it to his work and wonder if there’s anyway it could help him in his medicinal studies. There’s been plenty of plant based cures in the past, couldn’t there be more now? 
He won’t outright ask you, but he takes a little notebook and scribbles notes in his unintelligible handwriting whenever he sees you do your magic. 
He does keep it in mind, and will get you plant - based gifts and knick-knacks because he knows that you’ll know what to do with them. 
Whenever he thinks of you, he pictures you in nature because of your magic. If you ask him what he sees when he thinks of you, he’ll say something along the lines of “ you looking perfect in a field of tulips.” 
He has certain theories about connecting your work to medicines, but he feels a bit guilty that all he can think of when it comes to your talent is how to connect it to his work, and thus doesn’t bring it up to you too often.
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Thanks for the request! I hope this is what you wanted, but it's un-revised so there may be some mistakes. If there is, just let me know. Have a great day & summer and request again any time.
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libraryofloveletters · 11 months
Text
Written In The Photos - Social Media Series
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decided to take a little break from writing (I will still be writing after this, don’t worry!) but I didn’t want to leave you guys without content so I present the Written In The Photos series. each driver/player has a song and their post is inspired by said song :) I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed making it <3 // special thank you to my bestie @themandaloriansdiaries for all her help with song choices and all the cracked out convos we had to put it together. 
Carlos Sainz Jr - Smooth Operator by Sade
late nights, jet leg and messed up sleep schedules lead to words spoken which would normally be kept to themselves. 
Jack Grealish - Hot Girl Summer by Meg Thee Stallion 
party after party, Jack seems to be spotted with the same girl over and over again.
Lewis Hamilton - Loveeeeeee Song by Rihanna and Future 
he’s sick and tired of seeing you in private, he wants the world to know you’re his. 
Sergio Ramos - Way 2 Sexy by Drake 
working for a footballer isn’t easy, it’s even harder when everyone thinks you’re dating. ( footballer x pr manager)
Max Verstappen  - Can We Still Friends by Tyler, The Creator
even the best of the friends can have falling outs, especially when you’re on opposites side of the track.  (teammate/rival!reader)
Andy Robertson - I’m Still In Love With You by Sean Paul ft. Sasha and Jeremy Harding
so many years apart and you’re still in love with the same guy you’ve always been in love with.
Lance Stroll - Stuck With You by Ariana Grande 
every relationship goes sour, except for the one you had with a certain brown eyed boy. 
Pato O’Ward -  Sunday Candy by Nico Segal 
snapshots of love and life with the love of your life.
Jude Bellingham - P Power by Gunna ft Drake  
young and in love, you two find yourselves making headlines more often than not. 
Sebastian Vettel - Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado and Timberland 
can’t keep his hands off you and can’t keep the flirty comments away. (redbull seb) 
Kylian Mbappe  -  Hotel Room Service by Pitbull 
secrets unravel when you’re caught together in spain.  
Jenson Button - Money by Cardi B 
diamonds are a girl’s best friend after all (sugar daddy!jenson)
Ruben Dias - Golden Hour by JVKE 
you supported him through it all, it only made sense you were the one there in the end. 
George Russell - London Boy by Taylor Swift 
grey weather is a bit of a downer, unless you have someone by your side. 
Bukayo Saka - Star Boy by The Weeknd
proud, proud, proud; you showed everyone just how proud you really were. 
Mick Schumacher - Dark Red by Steve Lacy 
he only has eyes for one girl and it’s the one girl he wasn’t supposed to be looking at. (vettel!reader)
Neymar Jr - Tití Me Preguntó by Bad Bunny 
he promised to change, you were stupid enough to believe him but people never really change do they?
Lando Norris - Young, Dumb and Broke by Khalid 
regret makes people do crazy things. 
John Stones - I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston 
your husband winning the treble calls for celebration and you two finally get the night out you deserve. 
Esteban Ocon - Sure Thing by Miguel 
attached at the hip; the sunshine to his rain. you were everything to him. 
Erling Haaland - Sunday Mornings by Maroon 5
sunday mornings were a bit of a tradition for you, everyone notices when the pattern changes.
Pierre Gasly - Creepin’ by The Weeknd 
loyalty runs both ways, until it doesn’t anymore but nothing ever really changes, does it?
Virgil Van Dijk - Let ‘Em Know by Bryson Tiller 
some things never change, no matter how much you try. 
Fernando Alonso - I’m Still Standing by Elton John 
looking up and looking down, it never felt so right. 
Jordan Henderson - If I Ain’t Got You by Alicia Keys 
with your 10th anniversary around the corner, you both get a bit in your feels.
Charles Leclerc - A Sunday Kind Of Love by Etta James 
races, weddings and races again; sundays hold a special place in his heart. 
Trent Alexander Arnold - One Kiss by Dua Lipa
all it took was one kiss and the floodgates were opened. 
Daniel Ricciardo - Woo by Rihanna
monaco is good to those who are good to it, especially those who win. every winner deserves a prize worthy of a king.
Christian Pulisic - Unforgettable by French Montana and Swae Lee
the star player and the ex girlfriend of his closest teammate are spotted together; you’re too unforgettable.
Kostas Tsimikas - Boyfriend by Ariana Grande and Social House
you were his until you weren't, but then you were again. the two of you tangled in the sheets and in a web of confusion; were you or were you not?
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anama-cara · 4 months
Text
The Healer: Bargaining finale (part 5/5)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Joel Masterlist
Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Summary: You finally reach the doctor's house with Joel and your sick little brother and you show Joel your appreciation. Reader's thoughts in italics. Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: 18+ mdni, sickness/fever, age gap, unprotected PIV
a/n: I wasn't sure how to end this. At first I had a much darker ending but I decided that I liked these characters too much so I added some *feelings*. Please let me know what you think
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You had awoken to the sounds of birds chirping and soft breathing. Joel’s arm was draped over your waist and his hand rested on your stomach. It was pleasantly warm. In your mind you pretended that you were sleeping next to someone who actually cared. You imagined it was real. That you could have a companion that loved and protected you, that you could wake up like this next to them in the mornings. It was a nice daydream, but just that. That kind of dream didn’t exist in this new world, nothing good survived. And you certainly had no hope of finding a good man like that to love you.
Joel’s arm twitched in his sleep and you were pulled from your daydream and into your memories from the night before. How his lips felt on your neck, how his hands felt on your body, how his voice sounded as he said your name, how his fingers felt inside you.
For a moment you keep your eyes closed to the world and sink into the comforting feeling. Listening to the songbirds, letting the first rays of sunlight filtering through the tree dance over your closed lids, feeling Joel’s chest rise and fall against your back. You draink it all in, you hadn’t experienced a moment this peaceful in a long time.
There’s a rustle from the sleeping bag across the fire and you jump. Shit. What are you thinking?
You remind yourself that this is Joel, the leader of the band of raiders that terrorizes your countryside. He is not a good man, even if he is helping you, which he really isn’t, this is on just his way.  Suddenly you feel shame, you can’t believe that you let him make you cum, let him hold you, sleep beside you. You curse yourself for being so foolish and letting yourself go last night.
Sleeping beside a fucking criminal, a bully, a killer. A fucking menace. What the hell were you thinking?
You wriggle out of the bag and jump to your feet. To your relief your little brother just rolls over, still sounds asleep. You let out a breath.
“Scared of getting caught?” Joel’s voice is rough with sleep but you can hear the smile on his lips.
“Come on get up,” you kick him in his sleeping bag. “The sun is up we gotta go.”
“Ok bossy,” he grumbles as he rubs his palms over his eyes with an exaggerated yawn.
You wake up your brother as Joel packs up the camp and you’re heading out for the last leg of your journey before the sun is fully risen.
---
You’d been diligently following a few yards behind Joel, carrying your brother in your arms. He seems to get weaker with every step. In the last mile he doesn’t even respond to you when you call his name. He’s just limp in your arms and you can feel his fever burning through his clothing. You make a desperate sound as you try to shake him awake.
Joel’s head whips back. “What’s wrong?” He turns and retreats back to you.
“He won’t wake up,” your voice trembles as you’re trying not to panic. You hold back the tears that threaten to brim over.
“Jesus sweetheart why didn’t you say somethin.” He moves to take the boy from your arms but your grip tightens.
“What are you doing?” There’s fear in your accusation.
His eyes rack over your face, reading your expression. “You don’t trust me,” he says flatly but his expression almost looks hurt. He takes a breath and a hard expression returns to his face. “We gotta move a whole lot faster. If you don’t want him to die we gotta get to the house and get this fever to break.” Joel takes your brother from your arms and you don’t fight him this time. He takes off in a jog and you run after him, trying to keep up.
--
The house looks similar to yours, farmhouse style with a big front porch. Its white paint is peeling and there are a few cracked windows on the top floor but in all its still in good condition. As you come up the dirt drive you see a thin man in his late 60s watching from the window. After he sees the boy Joel is carrying, he disappears from the window only to reappear in the doorway. He sets his rifle down on the table and comes out onto the porch to meet you.
“Joel,” the man gives a stiff nod in greeting. His eyes dart to you then back to Joel.
“Doc,” Joel gives a nod. There’s respect but no friendliness there. Joel dips his head in your direction, “This here’s one of your neighbors, and this is her little brother. He’s got a bad fever and needs your help.” The doctor narrows his eyes at you and Joel, but when he looks down at the child in Joel’s arms his expression softens. “Of course, bring him in.”
You follow the him inside and Joel sets the boy down on the couch. The old man looks at you, “I’ll require a payment of course. What supplies have you brought to offer?”
“What I don’t, I-“ you stammer in a panic but Joel interrupts you.
“You and I will discuss payment later. You help him first.”
The man’s gaze shifts from you to Joel, he pauses a moment then nods in agreement. “Very well. But if he needs antibiotics the price will be doubled. Upstairs.”
Joel carries your brother upstairs and sets him in the bathtub. “Out,” the doc instructs him then turns to you. “You, undress him and fill the bath. Lukewarm. We’ll try to bring his temperature down. I’ll go get him a glass of water, we need to keep him well hydrated.” You tend to your brother for hour before the fever finally breaks. You help dress him and carry him to a bed in one of the guest bedrooms on the top floor. You go to sit beside him but the doc shoos you from the room. “No, he needs rest, out, out.” Exhausted you return downstairs and plop down onto the couch.
You must have been drifting off because you’re startled when the cushion sinks as a weight sits down next to you.  
“Doc is gonna give him some medicine, says he’s got pneumonia. You didn’t hear him coughing?”
You blink, quickly trying to gather your thoughts. “Umm, yeah, I did, I just thought it was part of a cold, you know cause its winter, I mean he always starts coughing when it gets colder. I didn’t think much of it, I was just thinking of his fever. I should have paid more attention.” Your voice tightens.
“No, sweetheart that’s not what I meant,” he trails of looking frustrated then leans back into the couch. “Doesn’t matter, it’s gonna be fine, he’ll get better now.”
“Joel, how much did he ask for? He said the medicines were expensive.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“But-“
“I said don’t worry about it. I took care of it.”
You swallow, “thank you.”
His head turns to look at you, and eyebrow raised in surprise.
Tentatively you reach out and lay a hand on top of his, trying to express your appreciation. “I’m serious Joel. Thank you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches and he turns to face forward again. He lets out a sigh and leans his head back into the couch, closing his eyes and casually relaxing. You’ve never seen him like this. “Doc also said the boy needs rest so we’re gonna stay the night and leave tomorrow. Said we can sleep upstairs in the other guest room down the hall. I think he likes ya’ never seen him so generous before.”
You blink. We? “What about your mission? I thought you were supposed to meet up with your men today for a job?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “They’ll assume I got held up. They can do it without me.”
“Joel if you need to leave-“
He opens one eye to look at you. “There’s no place I’d rather be right now sweetheart.”
You swallow and gather some courage. “Joel,” you say hesitantly. “Why are you helping me? Why tell us about the doctor, why escort us, why pay for the medicine, why be… nice to me?”
He turns to face you fully now, his hand strokes your cheek then returns to grip your hand. You instinctively tense and go to pull your hand away but you stop as his eyes lock on yours. “Don’t you get it sweetheart?”
“What?” you reply a bit breathlessly. His eyes are making you nervous.
“I care for ya.”
You feel your heartbeat quicken and you’re silent for a moment as you let his words sink in. What the fuck?
“I know, I’m sorry for how we first met, I shouldn’ta done that, but-“
“Y-you care for me?” You can barely get the words out.
Joel shakes his head. “I shouldn’ta said nothin.” He moves his hand from yours. “No, wait-“ you reach out and grip his retreating hand. Why are you holding his hand? Why is your heart aching? Why do you want him to stay?
But despite the thoughts running through your head your body is acting. You shift closer to him and your hand that reached out to hold his is now slowly moving up his forearm in a gentle caress. Joel closes his eyes for a moment at your touch. You silently urge him to continue.
“Sweetheart I know I fucked up. You were so good to me and I didn’t treat you right. I know I don’t deserve ya.” He is looking into your eyes now, desperation in his eyes. “But I swear I wanna do right by ya. I wanna be there for you, protect you, be with you.”
You don’t break away from his gaze as you move closer still. You’re just inches away from him, almost touching his chest as he stares down at you.
“I want you” he whispers.
And finally you speak the truth that you know is in your heart. “You already have me Joel.”
Your hand glides up his arm and presses against his hard chest as you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s tender and sweet and like nothing either thought you’d ever experience again in this fucked up world.
You lift your body from the couch to move fully into his lap now, straddling him. Your hands wrap around his face and you lean into him, deepening the kiss and pushing him back against the couch. His hands grip at your hips and you can feel his bulge underneath you. Instinctually you rock your hips into him and he groans in your mouth. You break the kiss and nip at his neck before sliding out of his lap and onto the floor between his feet. You kneel between his legs and look up at him, one hand rubbing circles over his knee. He’s looking down at you, slumped in the couch. You smirk as you watch his tummy rise and fall with each heavy breath. He spreads his legs more and you shuffle closer to him on your knees.
A wicked smile curves on his lips, “You gonna show me just how grateful you are now? This how ya thank me?”
You nod vigorously and reach out for his belt just as you hear the floor creak upstairs. You jump up and throw yourself onto the couch, lounge back and trying to act casual. Joel lets out a barking laugh at the panic in your eyes. “I didn’t know anyone could move that fast sweetheart,” he laughs as he pats your knee. Your heart is beating fast, you completely forgot there was someone else in this house. You were about to suck Joel off in the middle of someone else’s living room while they were just a few rooms away and could walk in at any moment.
Joel smirks and grabs your hand, pulling you up. “Come on.”  He leads you up the stairs and down the hall to the guest bedroom. “Goodnight doc, see you tomorrow,” he calls out loudly then winks at you as he shuts the door and pulls you towards the bed.
He pushes you down with his hands on your shoulders. He stands before you, tall and strong, dark eyes looking down at you and you feel yourself start to get wet. He reaches for his back and grabs his flannel, pulling it off over his head. Quickly he undoes his belt and drops his boxers and jeans in one go. He steps out of his pants and stands before you, completely naked, looking like a freaking god. You’ve never seen his body before, usually he tells you to strip and he remains fully clothed. This new imbalance has your blood pumping and your core clenching. You gulp as he closes the gap between you and scoops his hands under your arms to lift you and push you all the way up onto the bed. He lays over your body, face just a few inches above yours, dark eyes scanning yours. His hand reaches down between you to undo your pants and he pulls back for just a moment to pull your pants and underwear from your body. You take this opportunity to quickly shed your shirt before he’s back over your again. He rests on his elbows and his hands come up to cradle your face, fingers intertwining in your hair as his lips crash into yours, desperate and needy and hot. You whimper against him and he pulls back after a moment.
“Joel I need you, now.”
“Sweetheart I don’t wanna hurt you again. Lemme help stretch you first, get ya ready to take me.” His hand reaches down, trailing over your skin as he moves down your body.
“Joel, I’m ready now.”
His hand moves between your legs and he grins as his fingers reach your wetness. He rubs against your clit with two fingers. “Yeah you are. So wet for me already, fuck.” He plants a kiss to your neck, sucking at your soft skin as his other hands wraps around his cock and guides it to your entrance. You suck in a breath, tensing as you brace for the pain and the stretch, used to Joel shoving into you. But this time he doesn’t. He takes his time, slowly pushing into you inch by inch, letting your body adjust. He groans, fully inside you and you can’t help looking down between you. You watch as he moves his hips and slides in and out of you easily. He catches you staring and smirks, “like that? Want it faster sweetheart?” You nod, unable to speak, and he jerks his hips, hitting something deep inside you causing your head to fall back into the pillows. Your back arches as he sets his new pace and you groan. It doesn’t take long for you to feel your orgasm building. Your hands are gripping the sheets and you’re shaking your head and moaning as it takes over you. Your body spasms under Joel’s and he holds you down with his forearm across your chest. “Fucking bronco, hang on sweetheart I’m almost there.” He continues thrusting into you as you come down from your high and after a few more deep movements he’s spilling inside you, warmth spreading through your core. His breathing is ragged and he collapses on top of you, bodies flush against each other. He tucks you in his arms then rolls both of you to the side so he’s lying behind you, cradling you in his arms.
He kisses your hair from behind. “So fucking good.” He murmurs.
You lay together like that for a long time until your both starting to drift off.
“Joel, I-, I”
“I know sweetheart, everything will be just fine now.”
You smile to yourself as you drift off, comforted by the idea that for the first time since the world fell apart you think the next day will be a better one.
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