Tumgik
#dream mentions forgetting to eat sometimes and nothing
hotxcheeto · 8 months
Note
Hiii 👋 i'm really obsessed with your writing 😳 so may i request a top!ellie x fem!reader smut where ellie wakes up in the middle of the night cause she has nightmares of losing the reader so she goes to the kitchen to get a drink and then cause the reader feels the bedside is empty the reader searches and finds ellie then they have a heartfelt conversation that turns into an emotional lovemaking session :,) all the angst, fluff, and smut combine 👍 we love that
━ 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍
Tumblr media
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, smut, angst, tribbing, kissing and making out, mention of reader being dead ( in ellies dream ), talk of nightmares, very emotional love making, top/switch! ellie, bottom/switch!reader ( it lowkey varies but ellie does have more control ), idk this an emotional rollercoaster
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - i was feeling angsty after watch jjk and this just happened along with that. i love it, i love you ty for sending the request even tho it took me months!!
REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD & IT'S APPRECIATED!!
Tumblr media
There was something about you, that Ellie had never dared to bring up. A knack... per se.
She didn't wanna ruin it, or mess with the way you acted.
Whether consciously or subconsciously, you seemed to follow her.
The way you were never far behind at the bar or out and about in Jackson or seemingly always near her when she was moving around your shared home, you'd somehow have something you just needed to do right beside her.
In the kitchen? She could be eating while you were cleaning or rarely vice versa. Painting? You were beside her reading or playing with the cat you'd found on patrol that seemed to follow her all the same. Laying in bed? You were likely knocked out beside her or watching whatever movie she'd put on to keep herself busy.
Busy?
Busy... from thinking. Far too busy to listen to your ramblings sometimes, which you always seem to catch. Poking her cheek and knocking her from whatever bad dream that had caught her in the daylight.
She'd blink a few times while you chastised her for not listening, of course though, you knew why. You always seemed to know why. But she liked when you wouldn't mention it, it helped her forget easier.
But you couldn't always be awake when it happened, which is why she sat dead silent on the edge of the bed with her back to you.
Facing the door to the bedroom with dead cold eyes, not even the cat purring startled her from her still state. She always slept on the side closer to the door. Always.
There was something wrong with her, that's what she just kept thinking. You were so calm, so sweet, so... okay with what you'd gone through. Why couldn't she be the same? Not such a burden, like a child you'd care for, a needy mess you didn't sign up to clean.
It's all she could wonder while standing up from her spot on the mattress and creeping towards the door. Opening and leaving it ajar so as to not wake you with the click of the knob.
She chose her floorboards carefully, and each stair she stepped on, she picked a different spot. But nothing could keep you sleeping for much longer, eyes opening when you reached for an empty, yet warm, spot on the bed. A knack, she laughed, just a thing that came with love.
The cold water didn't soothe her, staring out the window at the empty field and the moon. Staring like it was staring right back, glass clutched in her grasp while her breathing stayed short and stuttered. A tickle in her throat, a choke here and there, a frown on her lips but no noise came out, no true sound passed her teeth.
Crying. She was crying.
Warm, salty tears dripping down her freckled flesh, skin cold and unwelcome. It was so different from yours, why did you like it so much?
When she'd love you, there was something about the way you touched her, caressed, if she willed. The way you so delicately danced your fingers across her shoulders while she tried her best to pleasure and please you.
But it'd been a long time since you'd made love, or even fucked for that matter. Unable to look you in the eyes for long, nor speak to you in extended sentences. You'd always give her a kiss, always.
Good morning, goodnight, goodbye.
Sometimes she'd hold your hand, but you had learned not to reach for it because sometimes it made her nervous.
For a while, she wouldn't change in front of you. Wouldn't turn her back because you'd see all the new scars, only letting you when you offered to bathe her. She cried though, when you did.
She loved you though, adored you, worshiped the ground you walked on because you were something incredible. A rare find amongst the normality and depravity.
A glistening pomegranate in a field of rotten tomatoes.
You were Persephone, and she? Only Hades.
"A bit early to be awake, hm?"
You sounded like a melody, even when exhausted. Your steps are so much lighter than hers could ever dream of, no wonder you snuck away in the mornings so easily to surprise her with breakfast when she'd had a bad night. But she never got to surprise you with breakfast, you were never up late crying into her arms or begging her not to leave.
Screaming at the air and clawing at yourself in your sleep.
"Couldn't go back to sleep." Her voice was cold, scratchy, like a broken record that couldn't speak correctly. "I guessed that..." You muttered, moving to stand by her side, looking out the window as well.
"There a unicorn out there or somethin'?" You asked softly, almost as if it was a genuine question, tilting your head before turning to look up at her. Eyes then flickering to the glass she was squeezing.
"No." You heard her, but didn't glance at her. Soft hands reaching up to take the cup away and set it beside the sink. She didn't put up a fight, she let you take it from her. Not like she needed it anyway.
"Hm... is there... anything special out there?" You stood in front of her, reaching up to her face this time, holding it though as if it was just as fragile as the glass you'd just held.
You wiped away the wet streaks, getting her to finally tilt her head to meet your eyes. She'd been afraid to look, scared each time of what she'd see but it was never anything bad.
Though, it was like looking under the bed for monsters before you could rest and sink away into a Candyland esc dream.
You would always be just a little bit afraid of what you'd see.
"No..." She was much more light in her tone this time, seeing you nod your head and feeling you wipe away her tears. "Then why're you staring?" You tucked some of her longer hairs behind her ears, smiling at her.
"I don't know, I just..." She sucked in a breath, shaky and half intentional, her deep frown and teary eyes returning. "I just wanted to... I don't..." "It's okay, Ellie."
You took your hands from her face and moved down to hold her hips. It felt secure to her, you knew that just by the way she shifted to lean towards you, into your body, sharing your warmth while closing her eyes.
"You wanna go sit outside? Get some air?" You questioned, holding the back of her neck while massaging away the anguish she held physically. The swing on the porch knew just how much she held as well.
"No.. not..." Her eyes opened again, a deep, guttural breath being taken in. "Not tonight?" You beat her to speaking, seeing her agree and feeling her set her hands on your forearms, gently pushing you away. "C'mon then..." You said.
You accepted that at this moment she didn't want to be touched, instead opting to begin the walk back upstairs and to your bedroom. Hearing her following behind until you reached your side of the bed, that's when she halted on the other side of the room.
"Ellie... the bed misses you." You sat on your side, patting hers.
"Why do you stay?" You could've missed the question, it almost flew over your head from how dead quiet it was. Her voice was the pin drop in the room besides the wind that made your cream colored curtains blow.
"Because I want to and I love you a lot, now c'mere m'cold."
Things stood still for a split pause, her feet soon carrying her over to sit beside you, but she could only stare at her hands.
Whether covered in blood, water or your secretion, she hated them.
What they've done, what they've touched.
"Where's your ring?" You raised your eyebrow, holding her hand up in the light. It was gone, but the tan line of where it had been was very much apparent, the woman almost never took it off.
"I took it off to wash my hands... I- I got dirt on them and- and..." You breathed, setting her hand back in her lap as she explained. "That's okay, we'll put it back where it belongs tomorrow, okay?" Ellie hummed, grabbing your hand to hold it before you could fully pull back.
"Unless you want a divorce, but lawyers are so expensive and I like cuddling with you." You pouted, always seeming so serious when you spoke silly nonsense, it nearly made her crack a smile.
"I'd let you have everything."
The end of the world was here. But yes, let's talk lawyers.
"I wouldn't let you give me all that." You then said, peeking up at her through your lashes. "Half and half. You get the porch swing though." She snorted, tilting her head down to press her forehead against yours.
"I do really like that porch swing."
You sat like that for a moment, feeling her warm breath tickling your lips. She'd forgotten and that was enough, the thought of your cold dead body that had haunted her awake slipped from her mind.
Because your forehead was hot and you'd then kissed her with a tepid mouth. It meant you were alive.
She didn't let up when you pulled back though, moving closer in a chase for affection. You allowed it as well, placing your hand on her cheek, feeling her still chilled skin. She wanted more- needed more.
But then, Ellie pulled back.
"I'm sorry.." She wiped her face, pushing her hair back in the process while you moved to keep your gaze on her. Taking them away to be able to see her. "Tell me what's wrong."
You were as cold as ice when she shut her eyes, but warm in reality, she tried focusing on the way your palms ran down her upper arms, soon pulling her into a hug.
"I'm right here." She muttered something in response, holding you back while staring at the wall. Taking in the scent of the new soap you'd gotten from a lady in Jackson to try out. It was like sitting in a flower field, and you were doubling as the sunshine too.
"See?" You asked, bringing her hands up and under your shirt to your chest, allowing her to feel your heartbeat. "Feel that?" Ellie hummed, taking a moment to actually feel the thump, thump, thump that she couldn't feel in her dream.
You were so soft, always, she wondered how you did it because compared to her rough, calloused fingers, you were something entirely different. She knew that, so it didn't surprise her when the feeling of your flesh never changed when her grasp moved down, yours just lightly holding the back of her hand.
Her thumb met your nipple and you watched the fabric move as she ran over the little nub. A little gasp escaping your lips when she did, it'd been a long time since it had, and almost immediately you felt the gut feeling that you'd pushed from your mind to give her space.
"Ellie..." You muttered, resting your forehead on hers while you both watched her move to your other breast, her other hand also making an appearance as it slipped beneath the garment as well, sliding upward.
Slow, drawn out, her mouth capturing you in a kiss to distract you from her touch. Little though, could take you away from her after being deprived of her love for so long, you loved her so much if she said jump, you'd ask how high.
And god those highs were to die for.
"I missed you..." You whispered, kissing her again and again, she hadn't wanted to talk and you got the hint. If you were hungry, she must've been starving.
Her hands went lower, leaving your breasts and she pulled away for just a mere second to slip off the shirt. Then her own came off and she tossed it aside with yours, bare from the waist up with skin on skin, just how she liked to lay.
God, she missed you too.
You were wearing pajama pants that were slightly too big on you, they'd drag on the bottoms of your feet if you didn't pull them up a bunch. She liked to chuckle when you'd get all frustrated with them, but they were your favorite pair.
She thought about this while pushing the waistband down to run her fingers along your hips. She was being light, not squeezing or grabbing, caressing instead.
"What do you wanna do?" You asked, pulling back to kiss her jaw sweetly, listening to her breathe in and out, shuddering from the contact. "I want you..." You let out a 'hmph' sound, pecking her neck before pulling back while holding her shoulders.
"Let me then..." You hummed, lightly guiding her to lay down then you kissed the spot between her eyebrows. Trailing down until you lifted yourself back up, staying straddled on her pelvis, teasing her by running your nails along her lower belly.
Tugging her sleep pants down while also taking her boxers with, you leaned to kiss her abdomen before continuing them along her legs. You then kissed her knee when she helped you remove them, sliding back up to lay against her with a lopsided smile and a want for more kisses.
And as your lips met hers again and again, you slid your own bottoms away and aligned yourself with your wife. Such a knack you had for fitting together, like two puzzle pieces because you knew what she needed and wanted. But Ellie knew the exact same... with you.
You both let out a noise and a gasp when your cunts touched and your clits grazed. Staring into each other's eyes while you began humping against her, looking down only to slip a hand around the back of her leg pushing it up and over before it caught itself on your thigh.
But she wasn't gonna let you do it all, not when she'd pulled away so hard it could've given you whiplash. She'd finally tightened her grip, moving you in a way that you had no control, letting her take you though you were on top.
"God I love you." You said, pitchy and breathless while turning back to look at her, feeling her nails digging into your shoulders and her arms moving to pull you as close as she could while you moved back and forth with her guidance. Allowing her legs to suck you in.
You dripped against her, you and her mixing while you moved slowly back and forth. You wanted to feel every inch of her while your little buds showed each other as much affection as you planned to give her tonight.
"I hate when you doubt that." That was your final murmur when you took her face and brought it to yours, tasting the faint toothpaste and enjoying how she became more confident in her want.
"I know." She mumbled, letting out a low moan when you began moving just the slightest faster, dragging your mouth along her jaw and neck leaving your mark while inching you both towards your release.
You wanted it so badly, but you didn't want to give up the moment just yet. No, because you didn't know when you'd get another and for a mere second that felt like decades you pulled away.
She kept you moving, keeping her hold on you while humping into your body again and again, your hips didn't falter. But you did, and she noticed, watching you curiously with a hint of desperation for you to return.
She was so pretty, why couldn't she see what you saw?
"I love you."
A whisper as you both were rocked over the edge, coming against her with a cry while she tried to muffle her noises. You wouldn't let her though, grinding against her clit with your own, bucking your hips and making her whine and then make a noise that was a soft yell.
You just kept going though, going until you fell against her completely, tucking your face away in her neck. You could've laid there forever and a day, never moving or twitching. Like heaven and you were its top angel.
"I love you too." She whispered, almost unsure of herself, not of the words though. "I know." You smiled, sitting up and grabbing her hands to hold. "I always know, baby."
You had a knack for that.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
ordowrites · 7 days
Text
some arlecchino headcanons
we are about 34 days away from her debut and i'm excited, so i am here, with a fever and nothing to do until i recover so it's time to ramble about this woman who i've been excited for since her debut in winter night's lazzo
cw: some fluff, some not sfw mentions, afab reader but no pronouns used, use of pet names, mdni, minors dni, general warnings for canon typical violence, some mentions of D/s, sort of a sugar relationship, power imbalances, pet play, possessive behaviors. everything is consensual. please ask if something should be tagged i didn't get already
Tumblr media
arlecchino is, for the lack of a better word, a kind lover. she isn't inherently cruel nor would she never intentionally raise a hand to you unless you ask very nicely. she is attentive for someone of her stature and position, she knows many things about you although you know very little about her - still, having your likes and dislikes, favorite color, dream wedding, and so on is to her advantage. she touches you as if you may shatter beneath her touch and you're the last person in this world that she wants to corrupt.
while she is kind, she does get condescending sometimes. she likes making the decisions in the relationship and calling the shots, such as where you guys eat, what you guys eat, sometimes what you wear, simpler decisions - although, she also wants a partner who knows what they want and can speak up for themselves. being confident is important, but not egotistical. (after all, she may be calling the shots, but your thoughts are still pretty important to her)
she will pay for everything. oh don't you worry your pretty little head, she's a Harbinger, she can pay. you sit pretty and enjoy your dinner and conversation. she'll gift you things you like, get you necessities should you only ask for them. so long as it brings a smile to your face, she will do it to an extent.
in comparison to others, such as diluc, whose love language is gift giving and he loves showering his partner with expensive gifts no strings attached - arlecchino's can be underhanded and come at a price. not everything comes from the kindness of her heart, and she's more than frank enough to tell you when she wants you on your knees to work for that dress you've been eying. (and of course, you will do so)
she likes to refer to you as pet, precious, and similar names to that. maybe she views you a bit as a pet, what with that collar she presented to you sometime ago? "oh, it's so everyone knows you belong to me. would you rather something more permanent?" (of course, if you stutter out your protests about wearing a collar in public, she'll just smile, cup your face, and tell you how sweet you look). she did also gift you a lovely necklace to wear at all times after your initial shock of the collar. after all, she still does value your comfort. nothing is ever non-consensual with her. after all, she teaches her "children" the importance of consent and valuing their own lives, so she should model such teachings with you.
you have dinner at home, together, at the same time, six days a week. once a week, she will take you out to the fanciest place she can in order to show you off to the public. her arm wrapped around your waist, your dress matches her red lip stick, and she shows you off proudly to the public. everyone knows you're the Harbinger's most beloved one. And she is quick to remind anyone who forgets. (and hold your head up high, goodness sakes', she wants you to be proud of yourself. if she didn't find you worth her attention, you wouldn't be at her side.)
the two of you will also have daily tea and cake, at the same time. always your favorite or whatever you are craving at the time. she loves to spoil you with these sorts of things.
She will never allow you to meet any of the other Harbingers. For your safety, of course. You are but an innocent person in this world, but if she ever does take you to a banquet, her clawed hand will never leave your hip. Her eyes will always be on you should you ever have a need to leave her side, and soft, veiled threats to her colleagues should they dare to even look at you wrong.
Sex with Arlecchino happens whenever it happens, and she's always happy to indulge if you're feeling particularly horny. But she doesn't make it easy for you to find the relief you're chasing. She likes to draw things out, she likes to hear you make noises that make you blush, and see tears prick at your eyes as you struggle to not orgasm without her okay to do so.
She's also not the biggest fan of bondage, but if you're being particularly naughty, she'll tie you up. Or if you ask her, nicely of course. (the reason being is because she likes feeling you touch her, your touch is always so soft and gentle)
However... something has caught her eye recently - a type of bondage hailing from Inazuma. Shibari. Oh yes, she will have you in soft red rope in her office just to look at. That is, if she doesn't have you already half naked and eating her out while she works while desperately humping her shoe because she issued you a challenge and it's been a few weeks since you've last had an orgasm. Really, whichever has her fancy at the time. (she does this because she loves seeing you fucked out and needy and pliant)
she also likes marking you - bright red marks or purple all over your neck where people can see. and she's always disappointed if you try to hide them. ("for shame, do you not wish for people to know who you belong to?")
("look at you, my most perfect pet. i must say, that is a good color on you. now, hold your head up high and don't cower. let everyone see the same thing i see in you.")
191 notes · View notes
strawberryama · 1 month
Text
His balls are huge. I can feel it in my soul!!
i say this too much so here we are besties
content : fem!reader x rook, ball sucking, public sex, library sex, cum swallowing, slight shoe humping mentions
Tumblr media
18+ Minors dni!!!
“I can’t believe I’m even asking this…but do tell, how are you undoubtedly certain?”
“I just know it. I have that kind of sense, ya know?”
Cater could only roll his eyes. There was no way this conversation was happening right now. In front of his lunch no less. Thank god lunch was nearly over, cause he couldn’t eat anymore. Not after hearing about how _______ was dead certain her crush, the vice housewarden of Pomefiore, had huge breeder balls. He didn’t even want to think about that guy naked. Yet, this was the current lunch topic, as Trey was busy this afternoon.
“That’s…great. Can I please eat in peace?”
______ turned to her friend, watermelon chunk on her fork. She’d been eating this entire time. It was as if the conversation topic was just something as casual as homework answers to her. She completely unphased. ______ bit down on the watermelon, shrugging to the guy before her.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Cater groaned.
“What?!”
“Nothing. Just forget it! I’m going to the library for study hall, early.”
“I’ll come with then!”
Cater only groaned once more as he stood up, grabbing his tray. “If you’re coming, then no more nasty discussion, ‘kay? I gotta study or Riddle’ll kill me.”
“Aye, aye!”
-
-
-
______ stayed true to her word. She even was actively studying alongside of Cater. She went looking for a book though, deep in the stacks. Sometimes potions class was a pain in the butt. There were so many cryptic ingredients that she knew next to nothing about.
The only issue was every damn book that explained those ingredients was up on the highest shelf. God forbid this school have accessible shelves. No, ofc ourse, they need to have six foot and then some tall shelves.
As she reached and stretched the best she could, she felt a broad, strong mass press into her. A hand came up, gracefully pulling the book she required from the shelf.
“Here you are,” mused a voice.
______turned to look over her shoulder, and none other than Rook Hunt stood there, pressed into her. He didn’t back up at all. Rook grinned down to ______, his free hand coming to grab her waist, rooting her there.
“Madame, how good to see you!~”
“You too, Rook,” she sheepishly smiled. She could feel her cheeks burning. Fuck. He was hot. His eyes pierced right through her like an arrow.
“You know, a lil birdie told me something.”
“O-Oh yeah?”
“You have a hypothesis about a specific part of my body is what I heard at lunch.”
“I!”
“It’s okay. You’re more than welcome to find out.”
At this, ______ felt something long and hard press into her ass. She was burning up and she was growing wet. She was going to get to see the Rook Hunt’s cock and fat, fat balls. She wasdrooling at the thought.
“May I?” she asked all too eager.
“Please, go right ahead”
-
-
-
Her eyes rolled right back into her head as she sucked on his fat balls. They felt sooo good in her mouth. She drooled all over them, salivating at the heady scent and taste she consumed. ______ could barely even stifle the obscene noises that she made. Let alone, the moan that she let out about the testicle that filled her mouth.
“Good girl,” Rook drawled. His hand grabbed a fistful of ______’s hair, pulling her in further, causing her to gag.
______ was thoroughly enjoying herself now. Her pussy smeared its juice all over Rook’s boot as she rubbed her clit desperate for any friction. Spit was dribbling down her chin. She was in ecstasy. A true dream. Finally, a pair of huge, fat balls full of hot, white cum. And they were all her’s. No one else’s.
Rook threw back his head against the bookshelf, hat dropping from his head. She was good at this, far better than he’d imagined she’d be when he overheard her at lunch. And the absolute messy display of a whore before him was hotter than hell. In fact, Rook may have just found his new favorite toy. And it was better than bothering that prefect of Savanaclaw could ever be.
Rook’s balls began tightening and he bucked into ______ more fervently than before. Her hand reached up, gently teasing at the head of Rook’s fat cock, urging it to cum all over her. Her thumb circled about the slit in his cock, spreading the precum that leaked out. All the while, her hand rubbed and squeezed what she could reach, daring Rook to let go. Daring him to cum and make a mess just for her.
Through hooded, lust fulled eyes, Rook saw the devious wanton look in ______’s eyes. God, she’s a goddess, he could only think. He yanked her off of his pulsating balls, posing his cock’s head before her lips before she could whine in complaint.
“Princeese, take it nice and deep,” he commanded in a shaky breath. But ______ didn’t need any instructions. Rook barely finished his sentence, before ______ began to suck on the tip of his cock.
She moaned, teasing him, with each inch she’d swallow up. Her tight throat constricted about Rook’s sensitive cock.
He couldn’t hold out any longer. His grip on her hair tightened, burying the last few centimeters of his cock in ______’s mouth. With a deep grunt, Rook keeled in on himself, shooting hot cum down ______’s throat. Those emerald eyes rolled back as he stifled a groan, his cock scraping against her uvula.
But ______ didn’t even flinch. She drank every drop of his hot salty cum, a dazed grin forming as she pulled herself off him. ______ gently licked off any remaining cum that dared to escape before grinning up at him mischievously.
“It seems my hypothesis was correct,” she snickered, placing his fallen hat upon her head.
153 notes · View notes
lalunanymph · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
‗ ❍ haunted by your nightmares of a tall man in a mask, your horrors take a turn for the worst when you realise the figment of your dreams may just be completely real. ┊ toji fushiguro x fem!reader
‗ ❍ EXTREMELY DARK CONTENT, reader relies on drugs to sleep, reader has insomnia, mentions of food, mentions of past trauma (an accident), hallucinations, unsettling emotions, jumpscares, bondage, nipple play, fear play, cum eating, finger sucking, oral sex (m on f and later f on m), noncon, knife play, mask kink, derogatory name calling (whore, little lamb, slut), hard dom!toji, flogging, penetration with the pummel of a flogger, degradation, mirror sex, humiliation, marks left on body, mentions of blood, toji is very twisted in this, MINOR/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI ┊6,992 words
‗ ❍ kinktober week 2 is here!! reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3 ┊dawn's kinktober 2022 masterlist
Tumblr media
He comes to you with inevitable surety, like how the waves have licked the shores since time immeasurable.
In every reiteration of your dreamworld, he lurks there, a figure in the background, but unmissable.
After all, who can forget the sight of a terrifyingly tall man in a ski mask, casually holding a knife right by his side? Not you, of course. But, he’s there. 
Still. Unspeaking. Always within reach. 
You were not scared of him and always chalked it up to the Dayvigo your doctor prescribed to you.
Those innocuous pills (always swallowed down with a gulp of lukewarm water every night two hours before bed without fail) had caused an intense debate between your parents when they found out their overworked, underpaid daughter was dabbling in quote-unquote hard drugs.
Supposedly, they were right. Without them, you could kiss a night full of rest goodbye. However, unlike other people who could easily function with three hours of sleep, you were a walking zombie—a hazard on the road and to society. A danger to yourself.
You needed those pills.
However, you would never anticipate how vivid the nightmares started to come.
It would start as it always did—with you standing in front of a great oak closet that was spotted with age and dusty around the edges.
Completely terrified of what was going to happen next.
Sometimes, the doors were fastened close, and other times, there would be a sliver of a crack. Enough to whet your macabre interest when you took one step closer to it. 
Then, the man with the knife would appear. The slow, thundering footfalls. The drag of his knife against the walls—metallic sharp ‘shings’ that raised the goosebumps on your arm—filled your ears like tinny raindrops. 
As if you were dipped in molasses, you would turn, wide-eyed. And there he was. Dressed all in black with a ski mask covering his face, your nightmarish stalker was nothing short of a brick wall in human form. Ropes of muscles corded his arms, and the knife in his hand was more of a katana with how he wielded it. 
Your heart stopped when he took one step closer.
RINGGGG.
The blare of your alarm knocked you back into a bleary reality and you fumbled for a second, slapping your phone off your nightstand. Cursing, you ducked down, nearly careening your head into the wooden edge when you straighten back up.
Remnants of the dream world still clung to the edges of your lashes and you blinked back the sleep, yawning widely. According to your Apple Watch, you slept for exactly six hours and five minutes. That was better than the sleep you got in these past few days. You got up, shook out your hair and went on with your morning routine, thinking nothing of that dream you had.
Your head was filled with nothing but the to-do lists for the day, your mind jumping from one task to the other, reminding you of your upcoming meetings, your manicured nails tapping on the screen that you almost missed your step when you got into the train. 
Thankfully, a kind stranger was there to grab your elbow before you could tumble to the ground.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you chirped in embarrassment. He wore a silver pendant that reflected back your sheepish grin.
“It’s fine, miss,” he said amicably. 
“I think I would’ve broke my nose if you didn’t catch me.” Your genial, self-depracating jokes died on your tongue when you caught a flash of a ski mask shining from his pendant.
You gasped, whipping your head around the full station in time for the train doors to close on the nauseating sight of a ski mask floating above the crowd. One blink and it was gone. You stumbled back, nearly stepping on the stranger’s toes. He quickly shifted to the side, releasing a sound of consternation from your sudden antics. 
“Miss—”
“S-sorry!” you sputtered and gave him one more fleeting smile, rushing to the other end of the carriage where you could escape his judgemental stare.
The whole train ride to work was spent with your nose buried in your phone, furiously trying to take your mind off what you had just seen.
“Hallucinations,” your therapist murmured as she passed you the hospital-sanctioned bottle of Dayvigo. “It’s a common side effect. Don’t be too alarmed and just remember this will help you sleep well.”
You snapped out of your funk when your station was announced. Joining the throng of business salarymen and women making their way to bustling offices, you melted into your day of whirlwind meetings and project updates, working yourself to the bone so those drugs could take a better effect tonight.
The moment your head hit the pillow after ingesting your pills, you were out like a light. 
Darkness dragged you down into its thick depths, unrelenting. Spewing you back in front of that opened closet in a decrepit room whose walls you could draw from memory. You were so sure you were just here a few seconds ago. 
Thud, thud, thud.
Glancing down, you were surprised to find that you were in your sleep shirt and pants you wore for bed. This did not make any sense. Sweat pricked your brow, your hands started to shake. A low creak, like that of a crib rocking in the middle of the night alerted you to the door of the wardrobe opening. 
The heavy footsteps did not relent. You glanced back slowly to find him already there.
An image of a silver pendant flooded your mind. You took one shaky step back. Heartbeat locked in your throat, the fear felt too real—too palpable—that you wanted to shake it off and start screaming.
The lumbering mass of muscles took one step towards you.
“Stop!” you cried out, thrusting your palm forward. It did not deter him.
The knife dragged behind him like a bloody promise of destruction, its eerie cadence notched in your mind.
You took one step backwards, and another. He kept on advancing forward. As tall and thick as an oak tree, he had a built of a jacked-up wrestler. Compared to you, he was like a large house come to live, looming and threatening.
“Please…” your plea fell on deaf ears. He did not stop walking towards you. Behind you, the closet doors creaked wider. 
You had almost decided to take the leap and jump right into its depths when the world shattered from the nascent ring of your alarm clock.
Bolting upright in bed, you gasped out. The morning sun had never looked this ominous. Your watch beeped, the disheartening circles of sleep rounding up to less than six hours. Again.
You would most likely have to up your dosage for tonight if you didn’t want to fumble the project presentation which you were supposed to spearhead during Wednesday’s regroup. The day dragged on slow and uneventful.
The folly of the human mind was that, somewhere under the layers of consciousness, you were so sure you were hallucinating that it never occurred to you that the effects of Dayvigo dissipated after two hours upon waking. It hit you as you were in the office bathroom, methodically washing your hands under the cool stream.
“Dayvigo’s effects will be out of the bloodstream six hours after you consume it. Any more than that and you would overdose. Do keep that in mind,” your doctor’s glare flashed through your thoughts. 
Checking your Apple Watch again, you furrowed your brow. By your calculations, the drug’s side effects would’ve disappeared the moment you woke up.
But, why were you still woozy and on-edge?
Biting your lower lip, you towel dried your hands when a gleam from the side of the mirror caught your eye.
You glanced up reflexively, and nearly had a heart attack. A sliver of a ski mask was in the next stall, whose doors were barely cracked open, its eyes boring into yours. Like the closet in my dreams. 
A short scream fell from your lips and you whirled around, wide-eyed. The mask was gone. Clutching the side of the wet counter, your breaths came out in short pants of pure fear. What is happening to me? 
This was the second time a figment of your dream had appeared in reality. Were the drugs that strong? Shakily, you raced out of the bathroom, and with wet and tremoring hands, you fished for your phone, speed dialling your doctor. 
Thankfully, she answered within the first few rings.
“L/N-san?” 
“Dayvigo,” you sputtered without preamble, forgetting your manners. “Doctor, I need to know if it causes hallucinations during the day.”
Sensing the panic laced in your tone, the kindly medical practioner attempted to calm you down. “Breathe deeply, Y/N-san. Okay, good, good. And no—Dayvigo does not cause hallucinations during the day. It wears off six hours after ingestion during which—”
Would help you stay in REM sleep.
“—would help you stay in REM sleep.”
You knew all this by heart. But, why did it surprise you to hear it once more?
Smile tightening, you nodded. “Thank you, doctor. I wanted to double-check.”
“Y/N-san, about your dosage—”
You ended the call. Jittery with nerves, you spared the quiet bathroom one last glance. Mercifully, the work day was about to end, and you could retreat into the comfort of your shitty apartment with takeout to seek refuge from the storm of your emotions.
The whole train ride back kept you on edge, and you didn’t dare look out the windows or on any reflective surfaces in case you would catch a glimpse of that foreboding ski mask again. 
Instead, you ruminated on what to eat, wondering if you should dial your favorite restaurant for a bowful of nourishing ramen. Back home, you took a slow shower, methodically scrubbing your body and washing your locks, trying to restore balance to your shaken core by taking care of yourself.
Deciding you wanted to treat yourself, you ordered in a self-indulgent set of tonkotsu ramen, still steaming in its bowl with a side of succulent chashu that melted on your tongue. Finally relaxing with your dinner, you tucked your feet underneath your legs and started eating. 
Once done, you cleaned up and washed up, brushing your teeth and changing into a soft, frilly pair of satin pajamas you reserved for long weekends with fuck buddies and impressing dates you wanted to go the distance with. But, tonight, it was solely for your own pleasure and enjoyment. Engaging with all of your senses, you ran a hand down your thighs, loving how smooth and cool the material felt underneath your touch. 
You needed a drink and padded to your small kitchen, about to put the kettle on when the hair behind your neck stood at attention. As if you were being watched, you turned around slowly. No one was there. 
Exhaling, you went back to fixing yourself a cup of tea when a flash of black and a gaping mouth from behind a mask shining from your kettle’s handle made you scream. 
You dropped the cup, porcelain pieces shattering onto the kitchen floor and whirled around. No one was there.
Heart in your throat, you doubled over, hand pressed to your mouth to keep the sobs at bay. Your mind ran in circles, mimicking the palpitations of your heart as you tried to calm yourself down. It was useless when you started ruminating on how this was the third time in two days you had encountered that sickening ski mask in your periphery. I’m losing my head.
This time, you could not blame the drugs. 
For minutes, you did nothing but stare off into space. The same direction where the masked fiend was last seen.
Unable to jar yourself from your thoughts, you were in a trance, moving slowly to pick up the broken pieces of porcelain, never mind that your fingers were cut and blood oozed out in sticky little droplets onto the cheap linoleum floor. 
What is happening to me?
Tonight, you omitted taking the drugs and tried to fall asleep naturally. It took a whole lot of tossing and turning, your system unused to nodding off without a sedative to help. But, eventually, you slipped into a light doze that led you straight down eggshell white walls. 
The house was smaller than you remembered. Cramped.
Your feet took you towards a familiar room, and despite the dread pooling in your chest, you could not stop yourself. The creaking closet loomed, and this time, its doors were wide open for you.
Like clockwork, the same heavy boots thumped down the hallway. The drag of the knife on the ground loud and grating. You did not spare any time to think—to even give yourself a moment of hesitation.
You leapt straight into the wooden embrace of the closet. First, darkness descended upon you. Next, you were assailed with the strong, musky scent of mothballs burning your throat. 
When you opened your eyes, you weren’t in the wooden depths of a closet as you liked to believe. But, you were in a workshop of some sort. 
Tools lined the shed-like walls, each of them gleaming sharp and menancingly. There was a chair, high enough to be considered a throne with metallic rings on its arms and legs. As if to bind a person there.
The long table reminded you of something you had seen once in your grandfather’s carpentry workshop. Saws, screwdrivers and scattered pieces of wood lined the surface, as if someone was in the midst of tinkering with an important creation before they had to up and leave in a hurry. 
“Sorry for the mess.”
Your head whipped around, mouth falling open when a handsome man with a fall of dark hair and a scar down his mouth appeared from around the door. He was in a pair of distressed jeans and fitted black shirt, his piercing green eyes swimming with amusement at your gape-mouthed expression. 
“Well? Are you going to introduce yourself?”
The shape of his build was familiar, and you snapped your mouth shut. “My name’s Y/N,” you stammered, and he grinned at your palpable nerves.
“Hey, Y/N. So, how did you get here?”
You gestured vaguely. “A closet door, or something.”
“Ah.” 
He fished in his pockets, and unearthed a cigarette. “Do you want one? Looks like you need it.”
It felt too real. The flame sparking the butt of the white stick, the nicotine coating your throat. Were you even in a dream at this point? 
“My name’s Toji.” 
Toji. You murmured it to test it on your tongue. “Where am I?”
He chuckled, blowing a ring of smoke into the air. “You’re in the In Between. Neither here nor there. Only very special people get to cross here, though I’m sensing this isn’t your first time?”
Flashes of siren lights flooded your mind, the scent of blood thick in the back of your nose. You recalled shattered glass that reflected like raindrops falling onto the cheek that was not pressed onto the asphalt. 
Snapping out from your thoughts, you fixed him with an uneasy smile. “How did you know?” 
“Those who bear the mark of death are hard to miss.”
The mark of death? Your expression must’ve reflected your horror, because he laughed and shook his head. 
“It’s not serious. It means you nearly died once but you didn’t. You’re a survivor. Come.”
He led you straight out back to a garden, and the sun kissed your bare thighs, bringing a wave of normal comfort in a place that felt surreal. 
Thatch roofs went for as far as your eye could see and the fluffy white clouds pressed in close, as if the sky were a dome and your position was towards the final edge of a circumference. It did not perturb you as much as it left you in awe.
You stepped back, and nearly collided into his broad chest. “Steady there,” he murmured, fingertips brushing the sliver of bare skin peeking past your skimpy sleeping top. Acutely aware of how scantily you were dressed in front of him, you cleared your throat. 
“Can I go back in?”
Toji gestured for you to follow him again. Inside, the house had transformed from a workshop into a cottage; complete with a cosy fireplace, and hooks swung idly from the ceiling, reminding you of those old-timey cottages in Western fairytale books where children would be lured into dark forests with the promise of sweets.
You did not find it disturbing and settled onto a great chair. Toji’s dark eyes charted your move, and the corner of his scarred mouth quirked up into a smile. “Getting comfortable already.”
What an understatement it was. The moment you sank into sumptuous, buttery leather, your eyes drooped heavily, sleep teasing the corners of your consciousness. 
“I’ve been having so many bad dreams lately,” you spoke from behind a yawn, cosying into a divot that almost felt like it was meant to cradle your entire body. The chair seemed to hum, growing warmer. Lulling you deeper. 
“Like what?” Toji sat on the couch opposite of you. He licked his lips and you smiled woozily at him.
“A man in a ski mask. He’s been following me around for the past few days.”
Underneath you, the seat started to vibrate, reminding you of a massage chair. You were almost on the edge of sleep.
“What if I told you that it wasn’t a dream?” 
The vibrating stopped. You fluttered your eyes opened with some difficulty. The room had transformed yet again—dimmer and a little more seedier. The tools on the walls morphed into instruments of pleasure and pain you had once seen in a racy magazine your brother hid underneath his floorboards. The same implements that teased, whipped and disciplined bound, helpless women.
Your stomach tensed. 
“W-what do you mean?” 
Toji had disappeared, and in his wake, you were left with the scent of cigarettes ghosting your nasal cavities.
“That what you’re dreaming about is real because you’re here now.”
The sickening thuds of boots falling on hardwood made you jolt upright. You tried to shoot up from the chair, but it held onto you fast. You glanced down to find your wrists in manacles and your feet bound with rope. 
A whimper slid past your defences, and you eyed the hulking mass of shadows across the wall, thrown into sharp clarity by the fireplace with trepidation. 
The sound of a knife dragging agaisnt the ground joined the flurry of movement heading straight in your direction. No longer were you drowning in soft leather; you were completely at the mercy of a hardwood, high-back chair that was cold underneath your shivering skin. 
A piece of cloth slipped around your neck, and you nearly screamed when you felt it slide up your chin, slotting in between your teeth. He tied it back firmly, muffling your cries. 
“Now, look what we have here.”
The thudding boots and metallic squeals grinded to a stop. 
You felt a large palm touch your neck, two fingers digging into your pulse point, massaging gently. He squeezed and released your windpipe in intermittent flashes, and you were quickly growing lightheaded, sharp shrieks escaping past your gagged lips. 
Despite your predicament, you could not help the burning throb that seemed to travel from your neck right to the middle of your legs, simmering lowly; dousing you in low spikes of arousal.
Your back stiffened when soft fingers touched the back of your neck, played with the hair right at the nape of your neck. 
“So sweet.” His nose was pressed to your pulse point and you almost screamed when a rough tongue dragged up the side of your cheek. Toji turned your head to the side with a sharp tug and you let out a bloodcurdling shriek at the sight of twin green eyes boring at you through a ski mask.
The man who had haunted your nightmares and your waking moments, present right in the flesh. A toothy grin split from the hole carved through the mask for his smile, and he chuckled.
“I can feel your pulse throbbing right here—” he squeezed your windpipe again. “—my little lamb. You’re quite the delectable treat.”
You squirmed in your bonds, about to yell for help when he reached forward and casually untucked your heaving tits past the band of your sleep top. 
He tutted. “Look at how these cute little nips are hardening for me. Are y’sure you’re afraid?” His deep baritone brushed the loose strands of hair around your temple and you squeaked like a frightened mouse when he started to slowly tweak and play with your nipples. 
You closed your eyes, turning your face away and chewing on the cloth gag pitifully when he used your arousal as leverage to break down your walls one brick at a time.
“Can see your hips ruttin’ the chair. You like this, don’t you?” 
A harsh slap resounded across the room, and your left tit started to burn. He ignored your scream and landed one swift blow to your other swinging, gravid tit and chuckled when you wheezed through the gag. He plucked and pinched your stiff nipples, chuckling when you whined and shifted your hips back.
“Don’t pretend like you hate this. I can smell how wet you are. Bet there’s already a spot right on your pretty little shorts.”
He moved his hand down your body, past your spasming belly to cup your mound, thumb roughly pressing down on the indent where the heat between your legs was stoking towards a bonfire. He felt your clit harden under his finger pad and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice when he mumbled, “See? Was right all along.”
Playing with you like you were a limp doll, Toji rubbed you through your shorts, and with his other hand, he continued to tweak and pull on your nipples like they were little points of playdough to be moulded and squeezed. 
Your hips started snapping up, seeking more friction and he chuckled. “They were right about you… you really are a little slut, Y/N.”
The rough material of his ski mask rasped the side of your neck, and you whimpered when you felt his teeth dig into the sensitive skin, sucking hard to leave a mark. His mouth detached wetly  from your throbbing, damp neck and he sucked another hickey onto the other side of your throat, smirking when you started to cry out.
“Twoji!” you panted behind your gag. He hummed and rolled your throbbing nipple idly, rubbing your clit through the dampening silk.
“Pretty baby, already messing up my fingers.” The figment of your dreams parted your shorts to the side, dipping his rough digits through your soaked seam. “Can’t wait to taste ya. Bet you’re as sweet as cotton candy.”
He left you hanging a hair's breadth away from a rushing orgasm and lumbered back to his feet. Shuffling right to face you, you flinched at the sight of blood splattering the front of his black shirt, soaking it throigh.
“This was from another victim. Don’t mind it.” 
Toji slid down to his knees and parted yours further. The hooded mask he wore did something to you; made you clench down in anticipation when his warm breath ghosted your folds. “Excited already?” 
He hummed and you almost lost it when the tip of his tongue danced on your swollen, creaming nub like a flickering flame, riling you up through the thin material. Your breaths rattled through your nose, exacerbated from the whines slipping past your gagged mouth. 
His head full of dark hair completely hidden by his mask, you felt like you were in the middle of an orgy, up for free use to please faceless men. It thrilled you in a dirty way, got you moaning his name over and over again as your hips canted and your hardened clit pulsed.
Sudden sharp bites of pain brought you back down to earth, and you glanced down hazily to find another pair of hands fastening nipple clamps to your sore buds. The ghostly limb tucked your hair behind your ears, squeezed hard down on your neck until you started gasping and bucking further into Toji’s wicked mouth.
At this point, you were made of pure sensation, drowning in the depths of pleasure this strange man elicited in you. 
The nipple clamps you wore were connected to a chain, and the ghostly fingers lifted the thin metallic strand, tugging on it rhythmically to Toji’s tongue fucking your fluttering hole.
Your orgasm was right on the tip of your tongue, and you started to pant heavily through the spit-sodden gag. Fuck, fuck—’m gonna cum. 
A cruel smirk twisted on his juicy, plump lips and he reached up to fiddle with your clamped nipples; tugging on the chain, briskly stroking the clamped flesh over and over again until you were flinching and crying out with every sharp flick of his fingernail on your heated nubs. 
You almost came again from his teasing and he stopped, smirk deepening. “Sensitive one, aren’t you?”
Your glassy, wide-eyes followed his figure where he ambled over towards the opposite side of the room. Finishing his perusal of those instruments of pleasure, you started squirming in your seat when he picked up what looked like dense leather strands held together by a vintage pummel. He set the instrument down and before you could react, unsheathed his knife, stalking straight towards you, 
The cool blade touched the tip of your chin and you flinched back as much as the hardwood chair would allow you to. But, it was futile when he continued dragging the tip down, running it over your pulse point and straight to your collarbones. Your eyes widened and you started thrashing when the blade danced a little too close to your heaving tits, and you cried out when it started to lightly graze the plump underside of your flesh.
Lightly, the shining edge trailed closer and closer to your protruding nipple. 
You sucked in a sharp breath when it grazed the pulsing peaks, and you swore you nearly came when he repeated the same action to your other trapped breast. Your nipples were now a violent shade of red and you could feel them starting to smart.
“Please,” you gurgled through your gag. “H-hurts!” 
Toji did not heed your bleats of pain. How could he when you were flooding the chair with your juices? Shame scrawled over your features, your cheeks warm when you realised how wet you were; your satin shorts were completely soaked through, the dark, wet patch looking so obscene between your trembling thighs.
“Think you like it,” he breathed, getting back down to his knees again. The glint of the knife was the only warning you got before your shorts were sawed off with the sharp edge, disposed onto the ground unceremoniously. Leaving you completely bare from the waist-down.
Your cry was equal parts elation and embarrassment, your throbbing, soaked pussy coming into view. Strands of white dripped down onto the hard wood, and you bit back a whimper when Toji started to twist it around his fingers, gathering your stringy wetness. He removed your gag and slipped those calloused digits into your mouth, letting you suck off the strong taste of musk and salt from his tangy skin. 
The soft pink of your tongue lapping at his flesh was enough to make him groan, and he pitched his head forward, pressing firm kisses up your abdomen. He did not suckle on your nipples as much as he bit them, exacerbating the pain of those poor clamped nubs. You choked on his fingers when he pushed them in deeper. 
“Take it,” he growled. Your clit jumped at the pure dominance dripping from his tone. “Take it like the good little whore I know you are.”
And you did. You did. 
Loosening your throat, you took all his fingers like a champ, tears beading in your lashes and trickling down your cheeks like fat diamonds. Your sniffles and muffled cries spurred him on to lick and nip at your painfully clamped and reddened nubs until you were jerking and panting harshly in your seat. 
You gurgled around his digits, shamelessly pleading for him to stuff your leaking cunt. 
He let up, getting to his feet. Those ghostly limbs gently curled over your hot breasts, caressing the flushed plump flesh before unclipping the clamps. Blood rushed back into your previously fastened nipples, and you cried out from the white hot flash, gritting your teeth and grunting out in exertion.
Toji waited until you stopped sobbing, whip-like instrument in hand.
“Do you know what this is?”
You shook your head, dislodging a deluge of tears that trickled down your cheeks; your entire body frozen in trepidation and keyed up in anticipation at the same time.
“This is a flogger. Do you know what people use floggers for?” 
Timidly, you raised your wet eyes to fix onto his flashing green ones. “To punish someone?” You almost flinched from how hoarse your voice sounded.
Toji nodded emphatically, a small smile in place. “Yes, Y/N. It’s to punish someone.”
The moment he spoke those words, the chair underneath you transformed into a bench, and you nearly fell forward on your face if it wasn’t for the bindings around your wrists holding you upright. This time, you were half in suspension—wrists in the air, and knees spread on a sumptuous leather surface. You flinched when you realised you were halfway naked. Only your top was left in place to cover your non-existent modesty.
He clicked his tongue. “Look at you.” The knife traced your ribcage again. You shrieked when it hacked through the last remaining barrier keeping you safe from him, and this time—this time, you were so sure he would kill you.
The blade ghosted over your throat, and you moaned in surprised when warm stamps in the shape of his lips touched your pulse point, the rought material of his mask rasping against your sensitive skin. You gasped, back unwittingly arching when his lips traversed to the spot underneath your lobe that had you tensing and your toes curling. 
It was surreal for this masked fiend to coax you down after a what seemed like hour of unrelenting teasing and torture. But, you supposed it was a tactic of his, especially when he stepped back, leaving you bereaved of his warmth and started running the leather strands down your bare ass. 
He didn’t give you any warning when the first strike hit. 
Your cry reverbrated across the room, face screwing up and eyes watering in pleasure. Toji gave you no respite. Another stinging smack landed, this time in between your legs and you jerked, spittle landing onto the surface as you sputtered your pain indignantly.
The tense bubble in your lower body coiled when you felt him graze the leather strands up the back of your thighs, and you almost started to sob when he methodically ‘twacked’ the skin on your back with light taps. It was a ploy to divert you, especially when he caught you offguard with a searing hit right on your left ass cheek.
“Stop!” you screamed, pain like hot red ants biting your skin. Your nipples throbbed in response to the impacts left on your susceptible body, and a puddle of arousal was growing from underneath your pressed knees, seeping into the leather and saturating the room with your overwhelming musk.
Large, warm hands rasped on the sensitive skin of your ass and you flinched, body minutely relaxing when the next hit landed back in between your legs, ripping a warbling howl from your swollen lips. The plump flesh tucked right underneath your teeth, you gnawed on it till you could taste blood, shifting painfully from one leg to the other; trying to spread your weight evenly on the uneven surface. 
Toji exhaled the ghost of a chuckle, and you could smell the rusty tang of someone else’s blood coming from his collarbone when he leaned forward, pressing you deeper into the soft surface. 
Something hard prodded your entrance, and you tensed, thinking it was his cock. Mind running in circles trying to figure out what was that foreign material trying to penetrate you, your thoughts blanked the moment you felt familiar leather strands tickling the sole of your feet.
The leather pummel traced the swell of your clit, dipping in between your folds to prod against your tight ring of muscle. No, he won’t do this. But, he did. The head of the flogger breached past your twitching entrance and you struggled, crying out from the sudden stretch. As much as your leaking pussy was eager to take this new torture, your shredded modesty willed yourself not to give in.
You turned your face away in pure shame, clamping down hard on your lower lip to stop a squeal from tumbling out your mouth.
“Do you like this?” his hot, sour breath touched your cheek. “I can feel your little pussy getting off on this. It’s squeezing the handle so prettily.”
A flash of arousal coiled in your lower belly at the feel of his rough fingers rolling your clit. You whined, a sound of need unlike any you have ever expelled before. It made him lift his lips in a cruel smirk. Drive the stake of power further into his tightening belly.
He had teased you far enough.
The head of his cock was bigger than the measly pummel, and you gasped when you felt that throbbing, hot tip slip up your seam, gathering the wetness you so prettily produced for him. Toji stilled your hips, leveraging on your spread-open, vulnerable state to hold you down, slipping his cock into you inch by delicious inch.
You just about exploded in pure ecstasy when he bottomed out. 
“Wanna see how needy you are for me?”
Before you could untangle your tongue and reply to him, a shimmery surface appeared in front of you. It took your hazy eyes time to adjust, and when you came to the realisation that you were watching the doubles of your body fucking in front of a grand, ornate mirror, it was far too late to stop what was bound to happen.
Your protests choked in the back of throat when the first thrust almost threw you off balance. But, the ties around your wrists did not falter. 
“T-Toji!” your warbling cry elicited a dry chuckle from him.
“Look at yourself,” he briefly kissed the shell of your lobe. “Look at how you’re stretching out on my cock.”
The term monster cock was not an understatement. Thick and veiny, flushed an angry red, he was only halfway in you, the puckered globes of his balls hanging obsenely in between your legs, tightening at your teary gaze.
But, that was not the only thing that caught your attention. The glowing red marks on your breasts and on your ass curved upwards in the steep doggy position he put you in was the main attraction. Your cheeks were shiny with tears, chin wet with drool. It was nothing compared to the look in your eyes—the raging lust blew your pupils wide, and you almost flinched when your reflection’s clouded gaze registered in your dim mind.
Toji was already thrusting, not paying your babbles and whines any mind. For all he cared, you were going dumb on his cock. He brought one hand in between your thighs, playing with your clit while he pumped his length in steady strokes. The curved head reached spaces inside of you no man, dildo or even your fingers ever had. 
It left you gasping, head lolling back to thump onto his broad chest, eyes rolling back in your head.
You squeezed down on him the moment he landed a wet spank right onto your vulnerable clit. The flushed folds throbbed and drooled around his glistening cock, your juices drenching down his balls and onto the leather bench.
The sight was filthy. It was obscene.
It was perfect.
Never had a man treated you like Toji did—like you were a toy and mindless slave all in one. 
His thrusts were hard and punishing, keeping you tightly in line between pain and pleasure. Sparks raced down your spine, goosebumps lined your skin and you were moaning and flinching from every hit of his bulbous mushroom head right against your cervix.
Too deep… he’s too deep in me…
You blubbered out more drool and he cooed, gathering the sticky strands and rubbing it into your cheek. The vice grip of your pussy never let up, and you felt his head twitch—a miniscule movement that got you seeing stars.
“Gonna cum,” he gritted out, and you seized when the rough surface of his tongue glided up your soft cheek. Tasting your tears. 
“Please,” you managed to choke.
Toji was kind enough to give you wanted. Two thick, calloused pad fingers worked your clit into a hard nub, in time with his cock nudging and dragging past your gummy walls; all the right spots grazed with an efficiency that left you lightheaded with disbelief. It’s like he knows my body inside and out.
This man knew the exact ways to tease, fuck and render you submissive to his every whims. You would’ve hated him if you weren’t pitching forward into the biggest orgasm of your life. 
White splattered across your vision, like the blood on his shirt, and you released a gurgled cry, one that was exacerbated by his low groans reverberating in your ear. The both of you were coming undone in record time.
He gave one last, soul-splitting thrust, the massive hulk of his body like a giant in comparison to your smaller, twitching one. 
The first ropes of cum shot straight into your waiting pussy, and your entire body tightened, waves of pleasure breaking you apart bit by bit to drag you under the scorching hot tide of your release. You wailed his name, and he grunted yours, continuing to fuck up into you at a rapid pace.
Your world was jarring back and forth, the writhing woman in the mirror had her mouth open in a silent scream, her tits jiggling obscenely as the masked man fucked into her with the enthusiasm of a conqueror wanting to leave his mark on the soft terrains of her body. 
Toji cursed loudly, his roar reverbrating across the room. His final load slammed deep into you, spilling milky rivulets down your thighs, coating his balls with both your combined releases.
Later, he would untie you and lie you down in between his thighs, pushing his limp cock into the lax cavern of your mouth; you were too tired to fight him off, all your energy sapped from this earth-shattering orgasm as you hummed and gurgled around his half-hard length.
The masked man lifted your face from his cock, his expression nebulous yet terrifying behind the formless black material.
He smirked. “It’s time for you to wake up.”
You blinked, about to open your mouth and ask him what was going on when your eyes fluttered open. Not into the seedy, dark depths of his makeshift realm. But, into your golden accented wallpapers and paisley sheets. 
Heart right in your mouth, you sat up slowly, staring at the alarm clock. It was little after three in the morning, and sleep had found you for less than two hours. Relief flooded you, heavy and potent. So, it was all just a dream. And like all dreams, you felt it slipping like sand through your fingers, until only the biggest chunks remained in your recollection.
The flogger, the glint of green eyes behind a mask. The sight of his cock splitting your folds in half. 
What a weird wet dream. 
Cursing the pills you had taken which led you up to this point of tiring nightmares and unsettling hallucinations, you stretched your hands above your head, loosening the kinks in your stiff shoulders. 
Come morning time, you would tell your doctor you would no longer be ingesting Dayvigo for as long as you lived. You shuddered, idly wondering how much more horrifying hallucinations would be subjected to if you still continued on your medication course.
Tiredly, you scrubbed your hand down your face and got up to use the bathroom, a cool breeze dancing across your skin. You shuffled into the dim room, bare feet touching the cool tiles, and flicked on the light switch.
A blood-curdling scream rattled the walls, your horrified eyes latched onto your reflection.
The woman in the mirror was naked as the day she was born, bite marks on her throat and her puffy, distended nipples tenderly pebbling from the cold air. You didn’t have to twist your body around to glimpse at your ass. The throbbing red marks on your abused globes shone like neon signs, advertising the debauchery you unwilling partook in.
How is this possible?
You were asleep. You had been asleep. 
The marks on your body taunted you, adding fire to the upheaval of your roaring thoughts. Your mind drew a blank and you gazed at each laceration in stupified silence, remembering the tools of pleasure and torture that inflicted them onto you when you were in that formless realm. 
It was all just a dream… wasn’t it?
Tumblr media
Disclaimer: The content you consume is your responsibility. If you chose to read this story till the end and are currently triggered by it, your trauma response is none of my concern as adequate warnings were already put in place. That said, do leave a review and reblog this post if you liked it, thank you! ♥️
© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost my visuals, gifs or work and claim it as your own.
744 notes · View notes
ashipiko · 2 months
Text
“A Hundred and More Memories with You”
SUMMARY: A story in which Ace reminisces upon the many memories of him and Ashi.
WORD COUNT: 5.8k
NOTES: <3 enjoy the rare Ashi writing
taglist: @taruruchi @deeva-arud @thelegendaryfluffypotato13 @midnightmah07 @cynthinesia
Tumblr media
Ace would consider himself an Ashi expert. A lot of people would consider him one too, considering how often they hang out with each other.
And when he says it’s a lot, it’s a lot. Sure, of course, there’s Deuce and Grim too. They all go through their antics together, whether it be slaying in a singing and dancing competition or solving the latest issue Night Raven College has got to answer, which includes facing off against high school boys in life-risking duels, when they should really be in therapy. They all went through a lot together and somehow pulled through and survived all that nonsense too. Same class, same lunch table, same shenanigans for them all. And Ace would like to think of them as a dream quad, but here’s the thing.
Who got there just a little earlier than Juice did when Ashi was having trouble at Scarabia? Who did Ashi go to hug tightly when that happened? Who did Ashi stay behind with when VDC practice came by and everyone else left the room? Who turned out to feel so comfortable with him that she fell asleep on his shoulder? Who always bunks at Ramshackle and is always taken in by the prettiest girl at NRC?
That’s right. Not Grim, not Deuce, but Ace Trappola himself.
It might not be much, but Ace finds himself thinking that it’s those small things that no one else sees that places him a little higher than everyone else. With this, at least. He can confidently go up to anyone and go, “Hey! That’s my best friend you’re talking to, you know?” with a shit eating grin on his face, and no one would bat an eye. Because that’s just usual Ace behavior around Ashi.
Behind closed doors or not, he’s real committed to her.
…Maybe if you cut out their first meeting, actually. He thinks about it sometimes. How’d he fall for a goody two shoes like her?
Just some girl, straight out a coffin and fell onto the floor, during NRC’s opening ceremony. It was really funny! Doesn’t mean it made him think much about it. Like yeah, sure it's all-boys school, but it’s not anything crazy. What, none of you have seen a girl before? Do you guys not have moms?
Until Ace spots her again, her eyes crinkling in confusion at the sight of the Great Seven. Some dialogue is exchanged, and nothing is of note. She’s cute and pretty, sure, but it’s not like Ace came to NRC, an all-boy’s school might he reiterate, to get a girlfriend. After the last snooze fest he had? Pfft! Forget it! Not to mention she’s got no passion or fire within her. The little furball she’s got beside her is the one who carries that all for her, I guess.
“Maybe before you try gettin’ into the academy again, you should try a second crack at kindergarten? Hahaha!” That was the Ashi-Grim duo’s first taste of the iconic grin™.
“Grrrr… How dare you!”
“Anyway, I’ve gotta head to class~. Unlike these two janitor losers over here I’ve got places to be. I’ll leave you alone and let’cha get back to picking up some trash.”
Ace still remembers looking over at such a blank face. Just standing there like a statue, watching the situation play out. Nothing about this interaction would’ve hinted to what was in store for him.
“Hey, goody two shoes, maybe loosen up a little, how ‘bout it? You could benefit from some good old insults every once in a while. Take a page outta the weasel’s book here.” The redhead teases one last time before his departure, as he watches the brunette’s eyes lock with his.
“Hehe,” Ashi finally perks up, “I’ll think about it, Acey.” She chimes.
Ace is about to shoot something at her again, until a blaze of blue fire engulfs the area around them. All tension is lost and next thing he knows, he’s battling a literal animal and being sent to wash windows as punishment for the roughhousing. He didn’t sign up for this at all! But after some self reflection, the Ace now would roll his eyes and mutter, “Well, I GUESS it was kinda deserved.” But of course, that would only be because of Ashi. Despite how much of a “bad influence” he is on her, in her own way, his best friend had her own ways of helping Ace improve himself too. They balance eachother out well, and Ace smiles as he thinks this. To make himself feel better? Maybe.
Even still, in the beginning, Ace didn’t really think much about Ashi. He ditched the whole window cleaning ordeal for a reason, you know? And no matter how hard he tried, no amount of pushing her buttons resulted in any sort of snap back, no retorts at all. Bullying her more than Deuce didn’t work either— so he eventually gave up and changed targets. Which I guess was fine, since he had to focus on the stressful situation of the mines.
But at the end of the mage stone obtaining mission, when Ashi caught some time alone with him on the walk back as Deuce and Grim walked ahead, Ace figured that she just wanted a piece of him. He can’t blame her, honestly, so he decided to give her what she wanted and talked to her casually for a while. He thought one last time, adding some spice into the conversation, to joke around.
“You were reaaaally scared back in that dark and spooky house, weren’tcha?” Ace teases, giving Ashi that signature grin once again, “The cave too, to boot. What are you, actually scared of the dark or something?”
He catches Ashi’s attention, and she looks at him, offended, “Aaand? I totally did it still, you know! Give credit where credit’s due, Acey!”
“Still means you’re a baby.”
“Hmph.” Ashi huffs in response, pouting a little, “…At least I manned up and made a plan instead of arguing like an idiot with the others.”
An actual comeback? For real? Ace didn’t think she had it in her!
The ginger’s lips curl up into an even bigger grin as he pokes the bear a little more, “And who did the execution, huh? Without me, you wouldn’t have even gotten to go through with your plan!”
“I could say that about Deucey. He definitely deserves more credit than you do anyway.”
“Ha! As if. Juice over here barely did anything.”
“Either way, neither of you would’ve come out of this successfully without me,” Ashi sighs, fed up with Ace’s behavior, “What’s your brawn worth if you don’t think about how to use it?”
“Offense over defense, baby!”
“Exactly why you would’ve failed without me!” Ashi snaps at him, immediately realizing how much she’s allowed Ace to wind her up right after. She internally scolds herself for acting out, and before Ace can say anything else, she breaks eye contact and changes topics.
Noticing how her body stiffens and her words seem less… slangy than usual, Ace can’t help but ponder about this. This whole entire time, not a single complaint has come out of her lips. Her voice was constantly sing songy throughout the entire nerve-wracking situation, but the way that it climbed up and became more strict and stern at this moment was a complete curveball. A breaking point, perhaps? Not to mention, the sudden way her body closes up and acts like it resets? It’s like she’s being corrected. A light goes off in the instigator’s head.
Huh, Ace thinks. Maybe goody two shoes here isn’t exactly what she’s living up to be.
He barely knows how he got here himself. Something about Ace’s first taste of something outside of Ashi’s whole “peppy good girl” deal was enough of an incentive to pester her more, and more, and more and more and more, only in attempts to see more of that special side of her. And somehow, through some sort of divine intervention, he got closer than anyone could’ve imagined for the guy who’s known for pissing people off.
Closer than anyone else she’s met in Twisted Wonderland has gotten, and based on how she words it, closer than anyone in her home world, even. The fact makes Ace feel bad, but at the same time he can’t help but feel kind of proud. Hell, he doesn’t even understand how people don’t like the real her. The whole good girl act is polite and sweet, sure, but compared to how dynamic and fun the hidden side of her is… Why would you ever think that the shallow 2D side is better than the in-depth 3D side in this scenario?!
If he ever gets there, Ace pledges to beat the hell out of every person who made Ashi think this in her home world. You can count on it.
From there on out, he had to keep his curiosity at a minimum. Though he wanted to keep pushing, he cared for her so much that he didn’t wanna cross her boundaries too far. So he kept it as teases and banters for the time being, because that’s how you keep it light and fun. Such as having sleepovers, just the two of them at Ramshackle.
To say the least, Ace got a little too comfy.
At some point, Ashi would offer him an old sweatshirt she never wears, too oversized for her but perfectly fitting for Ace during the cold nights he would want to visit. At some point, Ace had a secret knock he used at her window after the incident where he had only scared her instead of delightfully surprising her. At some point, Ashi and Ace giggling the night away became the norm for them.
Simple? Yeah, Ace had to admit, it’s just talking the night away with a friend till you both pass out, but it has its charm. Just as they showcase it in movies, the two best friends always hang out under the covers, tell scary stories and laugh excessively due to being way too sleep deprived, having a special bond that no one else would understand, just because they understood each other that well.
Something so simple, and yet something Ashi never got a taste of before.
She never got that close.
So, Ace, being the great friend he is and being the bearer of knowing Ashi’s history of, well, not being too involved in the usual teen activities, he would take it upon himself to go and make a dream come true. His mind begins to wander off way back when, before any of these bestie advancements were a thing. When Ace wouldn’t come out of nowhere, instead making his way through the door, like a normal person. And what better place to propose the idea of Ashi’s very first sleepover than the cafeteria?
“You’re telling me you’ve never had a sleepover. Seriously, Ash? The heck kinda life did you live?” Ace jokes, giving her the most bewildered look as they eat their lunch.
“Eh…” Ashi mumbles about, thinking about it as she takes a bite of her sandwich, “Kinda just the way the cards played out? Dunno, my mom didn’t really get the whole dealio.” Shrugging as if it’s nothing, she looks over at Grim chowing down his food to end the current topic.
Ace looks at her as she finishes talking, and he feels like her smile’s lacking more than it usually does.
“Then why don’t you experience it while you’ve got the right cards?” He shoots back, pulling Ashi back into the conversation, “You know who’s not here? Your mom.” He chuckles a little at his little joke, “Seriously though, take this whole away-from-your-family situation to your advantage!”
“Ace has a point, actually,” Deuce joins the conversation, “For once we agree on something. You’re already in a magic world, what’s one more abnormal thing to experience?”
Ashi blinks a couple times at the pair, before putting her finger to her chin and letting out a hum, “I guess so… Who do I invite, though? Plus, there’s Grimmy I gotta worry about too. This guy’s a drama queen…”
“I need my beauty sleep!” Grim scowls, before getting right back to his tuna. Ace rolls his eyes before he leans across the table, towards Ashi.
“Invite me, duh! Who else is your bestie, Ash?”
She smiles at his attitude, “Mr. Trappola, huuuh?” The brunette takes a comedic amount of time to think about it, “All his complaining miiight keep me up at night… Me and Grim are in the same boat when it comes to the sleep department too~.”
Deuce chuckles, “He really doesn’t shut up. Actually, a sleepover with all of us would be fun, but I have studying to do…”
Grim adds on, “Well I don’t wanna see an ugly face when I wake up!”
Tired of the bashing from the rest of the group, Ace loudly groans, “Then why don’t you take your ugly mug to me and Juice’s dorm while me and Ashi have a sleepover! Problem solved!”
It takes one glance from Deuce for Ace to get the message, “You know, you just sound like you just wanna get alone time with Ashi.”
The redhead glares back, “As if! I just wanna have a sleepover!”
…Only to add a solemn “Back me up, would you?” to it. Deuce gets it and helps him out.
“It would help me actually, Ashi. Take him away from me so I don’t have to worry about getting off track. And Grim can’t be that bad of a roommate, right? He’s just a cat. If he slept the whole time, I think it’d be relaxing if anything.” Deuce adds on, slowly egging on Ashi to decide.
“If you feed me enough tuna!”
The prefect ponders for a second, as her fingers tap once, twice on her chin, “I mean I guess… It’s not like it’s the first time Acey’s stayed over.” Ace pumps his fist in the air, and the other two think he’s being a little too obvious.
“Win! This time, it’ll totally be a proper sleepover. Call me the sleepover master, even! Get ready to not get a wink of sleep tonight, Ash!”
Ashi giggles in response before the bell rings and everyone scatters once again.
Later that night, Ace appears at the door of Ramshackle once he gets word that Grim has taken his place as Deuce’s roommate. He knows that Ashi’s scared of being alone in the dark, so of course he rushes over as fast as he can. Not because he wants to. It’s just what a decent person would do. It’s nothing to give him a weird look about. Right?
A few knocks and he’s let inside, and it’s not like anything has changed much. The dorm is the same old dusty and dainty place it’s always been, except this time he’ll be spending his time in an actual bed. No, it’s not because he’s asked all those previous times that Ashi finally caved in and let him get what he wants. It’s because now they’re just close enough that it’s chill. There’s no other reasoning further than that. Right?
Because he and Ashi are just best friends. He’s not here because he wants to have alone time with her! Ace just wants to see his best friend happy, able to experience all the things she hasn’t. Because that’s what good friends do.
…Right?
Okay, maybe Ace did get a little sidetracked from his main mission now that he thinks about it. The whole idea of being alone with Ashi planted a seed in his head, he admits it, but how could you blame him, honestly? None of that means that he didn’t get what he originally wanted, though. Two birds with one stone! He wins either way!
Still, it’s a night filled to the brim with snarky comments and blissful laughter, and while certain housewardens wouldn’t allow staying up this late, Ace decides that the lack of sleep is worth it. A sleepy Ashi is always cute, cuter than usual, and it’s an evening of rare sights. They’re both laying down all across the bed, staring at the blank ceilings and watching the cobwebs the prefect hates sway with the breeze of the bedroom. It’s calm, and neither of them are thinking about what they’re saying. The norm for one and an uncommon occurrence for the other.
“So how’d your first sleepover go?” Ace mutters, tiredness hitting them both. It’s dim within the room, and it’s thanks to Ashi’s nightlight that they can even take in this atmosphere at all.
“It was pretty hypesies.” Ashi replies back, and it’s a simple exchange. ‘Till she speaks up again after a while, and Ace is surprised at her different tone of voice.
“…Thanks, Acey.”
“Eh? Sounded pretty serious there, Ash.”
“That’s ‘cause I am!”
Ace faintly laughs, “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”
“Really though. I’m pretty sure you’re not as dumb as you look, so you probably caught on already,” Ace’s eyebrows suddenly jump in surprise at the sudden change in character, and Ashi proceeds, “I’m not really used to being this buddy buddy with people, even chicks— And like, it just means a lot to me that you even volunteered to do this with me in the first place. It makes me real happies to call you my bestie, you know?
I like that you’re honest. It makes me feel comfies. I can kinda be more like myself, somethin’ like that? And…” her voice quiets down before she says anything else. Which is somehow both a good and bad thing for Ace.
They both soak in the moment, and Ace’s cheeks feel like they’re burning up just a little. This is probably the most genuine reaction he’s gotten out of her— But at the same time, it’s completely unfair how she’s simultaneously making this seem so casual and yet so impactful.
His train of thought quickly fades away as a small, weak laugh from Ashi breaks through, “Sorries, I got too serious there. You might as well call me Riddle or something at this point,” she murmurs, her voice not quite carrying the energy she intended, “Probs ‘cause it’s past my bedtime.”
Ace hears her sit up a little, and he still stares at the ceiling blankly as he hears the crinkles and turning of the blankets along the bed. His next words practically come out of thin air, cheeks still feeling warm.
“You really should talk more, Ashi.”
The noises he hears suddenly pause, and after a quaint moment of silence, he hears a relieved exhale from the other side of the bed.
“…Thanks, Acey.”
It’s then that Ace wonders if it’s not just his cheeks that are hotter than usual at that moment.
From there on out, Ace feels both better and worse about himself. Because, man, his chest begins to feel kinda weird when he sees her. He swears she’s gotten prettier somehow, but at the same time, he also feels proud that he’s Ashi’s special person— she basically said it herself, y’know? Part of him wonders if this is the farthest he’s gonna get. Both as a friend and, well, maybe more.
So he waits days on end, they have their sleepovers more and more often, and hell, they get to a point where they have sleepovers every day. Ah yeah, the VDC days, amirite?
In his head, Ace thinks that this “era” of “AshAce” (name made by him, proof is in his alchemy notebook) is an era in which their relationship deepened even further.
There’s multiple points and examples he could give, and he’d tell you about ‘em and brag all day if he could. But the most vivid memory for Ace, apart from the one he forcibly tried to forget out of embarrassment, has gotta be when he really saw Ashi speak her mind.
He remembers the rain pittering and pattering outside when he went to go and get a drink. It was a cool night, after everyone was done and exhausted from practice, so he figured the one who’s all “I need my beauty sleep!”, especially, was asleep. Well, until he saw a figure outside and flipped the freak out— Alas, it was just Ashi, but he found it to be pretty out of character for her. She’s notorious for being horrible at dressing herself for the cold, and he’s sure Vil would bark her head off if she got sick before their performance. Ace’s neck still aches in memory of all the times he’s been collared, and he knows that pain of being yelled at by a housewarden all too well. Knowing Ashi? She wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of discipline. So why’s she out there in the first place?
He makes his way outside to investigate, and knocks a couple times on the doorframe, same pattern as he would when stepping through her window. Ashi’s frame jumps in surprise, and she quickly turns around, body stiff and drops of rain across her skin.
“Oh, it’s just you, Acey.”
“You aren’t looking too hot. What’re you even doing out here?”
“Ah…” Her tone of voice trails off, and ends off with a sneeze. Not a good sign.
The boy lets out a somewhat disappointed sigh as he sits down next to her, aware of the sketchbook on the porch as she keeps to herself. Based on the way there’s endless scribbles and several notes floating around the halfway finished sketches, contrasting against the blissful, one-take doodles in class, Ace puts the pieces together and concludes that maybe he’ll stay quiet just this once, the best he can. To prevent himself from getting any more tuckered out, and to prevent Ashi clamming up again.
He doesn’t like oysters, and clams sure aren’t that different in this scenario.
Now that he’s got a better look at her though, Ashi doesn’t seem to be very warm. The rainy ambience gave everything a downer mood, and her lack of a dry jacket is concerning. Her cheeks are wet too; but Ace can’t tell if that’s a byproduct of the weather or her own emotions.
“You don’t wanna get sick, do you? Vil’s never gonna let you hear the end of it.” Ace mutters, as he takes his own NRC blazer and drapes it across Ashi’s shoulders. She gives a faint smile, one saying thanks, before it fades away once again.
“You know me~. Not good with cold weather.”
“You’re even worse with discipline.”
“Fairs.” Ashi sighs, her voice quavering a little. The vibes in the air aren’t it, as Ashi would usually say, and I guess that’s something to apologize for for her.
“Sorry,” she says. It’s a quick mutter, but Ace hears it. And he hears her act unravel further and further, feeling his own heart drop and drop.
Hesitant, she continues, “I’m— I think I’m too tired to keep anything up at this point. There’s been so many issues going on and with managing and performing in VDC and feeling homesick I can’t even look anyone in the face right now. I’m so worried that my smile doesn’t live up to what it usually does, and I’m worried that everyone’s gonna notice and it’s all gonna go to ruins and the whole process of learning the dance and song is gonna get so— so… I don’t know!
I wanna perform. I want to learn from the others, but I don’t want to show them an Ashi that they’ll be annoyed with or make them think she isn’t what she’s lived up to be. I just can’t muster up the courage to push the act, so I end up spiraling down and isolating myself which is so not it for a cooperative project like this. Even if I do show up, the heck are the odds that they’ll be satisfied with such a half-assed act. It’s so hard to keep up.”
And now I’m showing you all of this stuff that I don’t want you to see and it’s embarrassing. It’s… I’m sorry, Ace. I’m sorry.”
Her confession finally comes to an end, and Ashi falls into silence. Meanwhile, Ace’s response is said so quickly— It doesn’t even seem like he’s keeping up with his own words.
“Ashi, seriously, you know I really don’t care, right?”
“…Huh?”
“Actually. I don’t care at all. I can’t speak for everyone else, but I don’t give a care in the world if you’re crying on my shoulder or laughing and doodling on my paper in class,” a breathy laugh follows suit, “Great Seven, honestly, when are you gonna realize that?”
The way Ace’s words just fall out of his mouth make him feel like he’s being too honest and brash again, and he doesn’t want to hurt Ashi in any way. He stops himself for a second before looking at the brunette’s expression, delicate and yet invested. It’s not anything ordinary, and maybe someone would find it weird coming from her. But if anything, Ace is an honest man. Both of them know this.
“You… Man. You know how I said you should talk more? That still holds up. You should think less, if anything. You overthink all these things, and you’re so people pleaser about it. Like— C’mon! You know I’ve got your back. You don’t have to be so cautious and scared of things.”
Ashi can barely process his words.
“Just know that I…”
Ace pauses.
“I… care for you. A lot.”
The silence that follows after is awkward, sure. Two frozen figures under the thin overhead of Ramshackle dorm, and Ace feels like he’s fumbled his words. The one time he hesitates.
Yet, one more raindrop falls to the floor, breaking the silence. And after that, one, two, three follow pursuit.
She doesn’t say anything, and yet Ace hears so much. Offering her his shoulder, they spend just a while longer together, soaking in the moment. Ace doesn’t mind the tears soaking into his clothing. Because if it results in Ashi’s true, sunny smile shining his way, he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all.
Of course, not without some lighthearted teasing.
It’s a bittersweet memory, Ace notes as he reminisces. A memory of many, but definitely one of the highlights, he thinks. Like he said, a pretty core point in their relationship, and an eye opener as to how Ashi works.
…He could even say it helped soothe his own insecurities too.
Ace would consider himself brash, assertive, and I guess in some cases, insensitive of other’s feelings. Other people think that too. It’s part of who he is, the troublemaking prankster he is. It’s a double edged sword. Sometimes people complain about your attitude and think you’re a dick, or sometimes people actually think you’re doing something good on a rare occasion.
While this kind of attitude could totally get you out of sticky scenarios, sometimes Ace’s heart hurts at the way people climb up before him. He did it to himself, really— I mean, he’s gained a reputation and at an expense, he just so happened to lose the chance of hearing some praise. The troublemaker gets something done? At least he’s actually done something. The good guy does it? Everyone’s cheering him on.
It stings a little.
It’s just the way he is, he knows it. He tells himself this again and again. He’s proud of it, but it’s hard to feel like he’s really accomplished something when people treat him the way they do. When he feels like he’s falling behind, all he can do is give snarky remarks to the people above him. He doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t gain anything.
But the rainy clouds fade away when Ashi’s near him, able to put all her trust in his care and see him as something better than a guy who’ll mess things up. She sees him as her knight in shining armor, and Ace’s heart heals.
To be someone people want to be around, and to have people see you for your true self without berating you because of it.
It’s something they both want. Something they both have, now that they’re together. Ace doesn’t wanna let that go. Not for one second.
These memories and thoughts with the girl he really loves are what Ace has to repeat in his mind, over and over and over again in this moment. Because when he’s standing in their little Heartslabyul hideout, the mood perfect and warm just like those paintings Ashi gushes about, voice clear and his back straight, he needs all the evidence he has.
He’s ready to take a shot at making this last forever.
Though, despite how determined he is, it’s not like he’s acting like his palms aren’t insanely sweaty right now. It’s lowkey embarrassing at how riled up he is about this.
Even in his basketball matches, he isn’t this nervous. But maybe it’s ‘cause Ashi isn’t cheering him on now that he’s really feeling the pressure? His thoughts wander and wander… couldn’t she get here sooner?
Jeez, how do you talk to girls again?
Ace has had a girlfriend before. He knows how to treat girls, but this opportunity is so much more stressful. Ashi’s not just a shot at a possible girlfriend for fun. He’s surprised himself if he’s being real about it, that he’s even this serious about them.
He didn’t intend for it to end up this way. To be friends, to best friends, to falling for one another and now, risking it all away in attempts to, what, kiss her? I guess it would be worth it. Wait— maybe he shouldn’t get too cocky about it. But doesn’t Ashi love him because he’s cocky? Wait a minute! Who said she even liked him like that in the first place?!
The redhead groans a little as he throws his head back. His last get-a-girl operation compared to this is insane. From boring stupid love to serious I-love-you-for-real love? Did Ashi really impact him this badly? Did her hopeless romantic disease spread to him too?! At this point, Ace doesn’t know if the break they spent apart while Ashi was off fighting Idia helped him calm down his feelings or make them more prominent.
He wallows in his thoughts a little longer, the doubt slowly consuming him, before a small noise of footsteps make their way towards him, causing him to straighten up. A patch of leaves open up, and Ashi waves through, catching Ace with somewhat of a goofy smile on his face.
Gosh, she really is pretty.
The nervous boy stands and waits for her to make her way towards him, and Ashi looks around the garden. Someone spruced it up, for sure. Starting out as just a simple hideout for Ace when he tried stalling from getting collared by Riddle, and turning into a hangout space for the two of them, Ashi never would’ve thought she’d see it in its full glory like this. Some cute fairy lights, treats on the small table, and even considering her fear of the dark, something about the atmosphere here still makes her feel delighted. It’s nice, but it obviously gives the suspicion that something’s gonna happen.
While she’s stuck enjoying the scenery, Ace can’t help but feel his smile getting even goofier as he watches her. The smile that shines through as she looks over at him tells Ace that he’s gotten successful with the first part.
“Ahaha. Acey, everything’s so bedazzled. What’s happening?” Ashi jokes, her voice chiming through the nighttime breeze. The redhead chuckles a little, before stepping another step closer.
“Just got something to tell you. It’s not a bad joke this time, I swear,” Ace comments, trying to keep the mood light, “So I tried getting the vibes to translate through this and that. Artsy, right? You proud?” He gives a snarky smile, gaining a laugh from the brunette.
“Yeah yeah~. So what is it?” Ashi tilts her head, awaiting for the big reveal. Ace gulps, before going on ahead. Just like he planned.
“Listen, I know that we haven’t really gotten time to spend with eachother since the end of VDC, but the whole break while you were gone… It got me to think about some stuff.” He starts off, focusing on the way Ashi’s expression changes along the way, “It made me really think of all the stuff we’ve been through, together, and I couldn’t help but keep thinking about how close we’ve gotten since you got here.
And NRC is filled to the brim with guys. Heck, some of them even have crushes on you. But…” Ace exhales, his heartbeat quickening as he starts to forget his lines. But in proper Trappola fashion, he bounces back and decides to go with his gut.
Brows furrowed as he clasps Ashi’s hands in his and pulls it to his chest, he spills his heart out to her.
“But none of those guys, and I mean none of them deserve you! You deserve someone you can laugh and cry with. Someone who won’t hate on you for showing something a little weaker than a big grin. Like me.
No matter what, even if we ever butt heads, you know I’ll always set it straight. Heck— I don’t even know how much time you have left in Twisted Wonderland— and I don’t know how much time we have left together. But none of that matters.
Because, Ashi— I love you.
I love you and I want to spend every single second with you. As something more than friends. Something where I can give you all the love you deserve, and you don’t have to be scared.
So please, just answer me.
Will you let me?”
The stars shine in Ashi’s eyes as she processes Ace’s words, and he feels his heart beating out of his chest. The tension is insane, and he can’t do anything but watch her for any sign of a reaction.
Stars, dancing in her eyes as they tear up and shine, her cheeks being painted a rosy red, and her shining smile falling into a soft one.
“Ace…”
“I love you, Ash.”
She laughs as her face faces downwards, hair falling over her eyes, “You idiot…” she mutters, before looking Ace in the eyes once again.
“I love you too. A lot.” Ashi confesses back, voice choking up a little as she laughs again. Again and again. It’s music to Ace’s ears, and he can't help but find himself laughing along as he picks her up and hugs her like it was her last. The two simmer in their emotions for a while, tears and jolly laughter transforming the atmosphere into a lovely and bright scene.
This is another memory to mark down, Ace subconsciously thinks as he holds Ashi in his arms, one to look back on again and again.
And he can’t wait to make even more memories from here on out.
68 notes · View notes
mistyresolve · 1 year
Text
| Talking To The Void - Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (Edited)
Tumblr media
Word count - 2k
Summary - While Simon is away on missions, it’s hard on everyone. Especially his significant other. So he’s discovered a loophole, the only issue is that it has its downfalls. 
Warning/Tags - mentions of the dirty, 
A/N - this is something short to introduce my version of Simon “Ghost” Riley. i like the idea that both Simon Riley and Ghost in a sense are the same person with the same goals and values but he has defined separation between the two.
Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form
Tumblr media
It no longer came as a shock when you didn’t hear from Simon for weeks on end when he was away on missions. You understood the reasoning behind the strict no contact rule; gave him grace because the cards were never in his hands. With him having to fly under the radar, and lower still, he had to vanish from the living world. You being a part of the living world involved vanishing from you too. Sometimes it was the fact that he just never had the time or means to make a phone call. Even still, the normalcy of it never quelled the anxiety and fear that plagued you—it followed you around like a predator stalking its prey. It lurked in the shadows and breathed down your neck when your back was turned. It followed you into your dreams, forcing you to awake in a panic and drenched in sweat. 
You had absolute, unequivocal faith in him to come back to you. He always did. But the silence that replaced his presence was always filled with overthinking and rumination. 
You tried your best to distract yourself. Sometimes with work of your own, staying later than the janitors, and when you drove home the streets and highways were desolate. You also spent a considerable amount of time at your parents' place, eating your mothers home cooked meals while you chatted about the new family gossip. You used to stay the weekend at her house because coming back home to an empty house was sometimes too much. A chilling reminder of what you were trying to forget. The nights that you did spend in your bed you slept in his clothes and on his side of the bed. Anything to get a little closer to him. Anything to trick yourself into thinking he was still there.  
You never held it against Simon though. It took you the first five missions he was ordered onto to finally come to terms with the unusual lifestyle. Each time he returned he brought with him an immense amount of guilt. A guilt that ran so deep even you couldn’t soothe. He did everything he could on his end to find alternative ways to support you through his absence. When he found out about the occasional sleepovers at your parent's house, he brought you to an SPCA to adopt whatever animal of your choosing. Something to bring warmth and life into the home in his stead. Simon wasn’t the least bit surprised when you picked the sassy tabby cat with one eye named Ginger Spice. 
The other alternative was phone calls. Always from a burner phone. Always an unknown number. Always silent on the other end. 
Every time your phone rang and you picked it up, there was always a deflation when a phone number or name was attached to it. 
That wasn’t the case this time. You fumbled and shook as you slid your finger across the screen to answer the call. Hesitating before you open your mouth, the word scared it would be returned, “Hello?” you closed your eyes, hoping, praying, pleading, that the caller didn’t reply. 
When you were met with nothing, heard nothing, the half sob half sigh of relief that you let out was heartbreaking. Even Simon on the other end of the line had to lean his head against the wall for support, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“I miss you,” the words are laced with grief and torment, “I miss you so much it hurts.”
Ginger Spice who was previously lounging on the divan across from you perked up at the sound of your teary voice. He let out a curious trill as he leapt off the seat, pranced to your spot on the couch, and jumped into your lap; making a few laps back and forth before settling in between your legs. The tabby cat was providing the support that Simon was striving for. Simon silently thanked the cat.  
“Ginger came to say ‘Hi’,” You laughed through the tears, your vision momentarily going blurry. You wiped furiously at your eyes. You didn’t want to waste this stolen time on crying. 
The first time he made one of these calls and you had hung up on him not realizing who it was. When he returned, he very bashfully confessed to you that it was him. You had given him endless apologies, absolutely mortified. He had laughed and pressed kisses into your hair, telling you it was okay and he expected that that would be the most probable outcome. 
You didn’t know how long you had with him before the line would be severed and you’d be left wondering. Your fingers were kept busy by tracing the pattern on Ginger Spices markings, who immediately erupted with purrs in response. 
“I don’t know if you hear him, but he’s purring,” you relayed, a soft smile dancing on your mouth. 
Simon could, very faintly, and only when you spoke. The sound floated in the background of your words. A smile of his own formed under the mask. The moment was shared from thousands and thousands of miles away, and yet in the same room. 
“He misses you too,” and the cat did, you would occasionally find him curled in the sheet on Simon's side of the bed. Other times he was sitting on the bench next to the door, waiting for his dad to enter, “Sometimes he takes it out on me. Which, by the way, I don’t deserve, and you’ll have to make up for that when you get back” also a true statement. Ginger Spice had developed a horrible habit of ignoring you and giving you blatant attitude. Just this morning when you filled his food bowl he meowed at you until you sat at the island and drank your tea. All because Simon would get up at buttcrack dawn, feed the cat, and drink tea while he read over reports and documents while he waited for you to start to wake up so he could climb back into the sheets and be there when you open your eyes. 
“And that brings me to the next point of discussion. Your mother-in-law wants you to help move the couch in the basement to the garage so she can sell it. Dad wants to turn it into some sort of lounge, den, bar, thingy,” you waved your hand in dismissal despite the fact that he couldn’t see the action. 
He might not have been able to see, but if he closed his eyes and listened, he could imagine you. Knowing your mannerisms and idiosyncrasies as if they were his own. Every moment he spent with you he filed away and studied. A talent that also came in handy when it came to those lonely nights away from you. Visualizing his hand was yours. Smaller and softer. Gentle and caring. A fact that he had no qualms telling you about, or explaining to you in great detail. And he was very good at explaining, and it usually led you to enact his visualizations. All so he can “confirm his creativity was close to the real thing”. He is very tongue-in-cheek about it too.  
“She wants me to help her paint and redecorate. But I’m having a hard time thinking up a theme so you’ll have to help me out,” and he would, he was good at helping you organize your thoughts and ideas. He enjoyed any task that was thrown at him, taking them head-on and with fervent no matter how pointless it was. He claimed it kept him limber. He liked being needed and valued. He especially liked it when you praised his ideas. 
He listened contently as you talked to him about everything you could. What you had for lunch, the book you recently finished, the hairball you had to clean up, the “bitch two offices down”. He would have to bite the inside of his cheek and focus on controlling and steadying his breaths to keep from laughing. He loved how your voice dropped to a whisper when you got to the nitty gritty of the gossip. As if you were sitting at the back of a coffee shop with him, and talking about people as they sat right in front of you. He’d never admit it, but he lived for the drama. Thrived off it. But only if it came from you.
You filled him in on the drama, removing names and identifiers in the rare case that someone was listening in. The same reason you wouldn’t say his name or call sign. The same reason he couldn’t talk.
He never voiced it to you for the fear that if he spoke it out loud it would come true, but the possibility of something happening to you because he got too comfortable in his anonymity, scared the shit out of him. An issue he never had to deal with before you. He always kept his identity close to his chest but his seriousness about it only increased by a tenth-fold when you crept into his life. It was not only his life on the line but yours too now. He was doing everything he could to protect you. To make sure you remained an enigma to his enemies. To which he had a lot of. A lot of them would have no issues using you to get to him, and all of them would kill for that kind of opportunity. He also wanted to give you some ounce of normality when he returned, and he didn’t have to conceal his identity. Where he could take you out, and show you off without the fear that someone will recognize him. His only regret was that he could only give that to you for half the time.
He sometimes wished he could burn the world just so he could get some peace with you. He wished he could put you in a jar and carry you with him everywhere he went. That’s all they were though, wishes and selfish daydreams. 
Right now, he was sitting in the stairwell of an apartment building. He and Price were monitoring a target, building a routine for them. They were stationed on the roof of said apartment with snipers. He had switched off the main shift with Price about six hours ago. He spent those six hours getting sleep and food, before making the phone call. A phone call Price had no idea he was making. A phone call to someone, not even Price knew existed. He would rejoin Price after the call to help with comms and to give him some company. Lord knew Simon knew staring into a scope at someone watch TV and order room service for a 12 hour shift was deathly boring. Not that he’d ever complain. It allowed him time to sit with his thoughts. He would probably do a couple of rounds around the area too. Secure their exits and entrances. 
You loosed a sigh, suddenly sad again, “I’ve kept you longer than I should have.”
He looked at the timer on the phone screen: 1:23:09. 
It hadn’t felt that long. And it sure as hell didn’t feel long enough.  
“Come home to me soon, please,” the earnestness in your voice was palpable. He could almost taste it on his tongue. The twisted heart in his chest felt like it dropped a couple of inches, and a zip of pain shot down his arm.  
“I love you,” you whispered so sweetly he thought he’d get a sugar high from it. That or the blood was leaving his brain and travelling south. You left enough time after you said it that if he could respond he would have enough time. Then reluctantly hung up. 
He tapped the phone in the palm of his hand, pulling his mind back into his body. Switching back to Ghost he rolled his shoulders, shaking off any remaining unwanted thoughts and feelings. 
He dismantled the phone, removing the battery, the sim, the camera, the screen. Everything. He would toss the individual parts in different locations as he did his patrols. He’d be damn thorough. The sim card he would burn. He would destroy any evidence and connection to Simon Riley. 
Tumblr media
Masterlist  ❤︎
334 notes · View notes
milequaritchsslut · 1 year
Text
Don’t forget my love Chapter 2
Tumblr media
Based on the song Don’t Forget My Love by Diplo and Miguel
Part 1 here!
Notes📝: Humans do not need masks to breathe anymore! Reader is still kinda young like late 20’s!
Word count: 4k
Warnings⚠️: arguing, tension, teasing, yelling, crying, torture, blood, fluff, mentions of cheating, sexual tension, size kink?, talk of private parts, miles being protective, masturbation (no p in v tho), eventual p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, miles eating you out, daddy kink, pet names, public sex kinda?,
Background: After getting captured and being interrogated ends up causing old feelings to come to surface…
———————————————————————
The tension was all you felt on the fly back to the base. You hated them you hated these demonic dreamwalkers. Why couldn’t they just leave you alone, especially him. The man you were in love with so long ago who for all you knew was dead, sitting right next to you. Maybe this was the way Ewya punished you for your past actions. But why now? Why would she allow this why would she let him of all people live?
Sitting in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed the eyes staring you down. Looking up you watched as the the dream walkers eyes wandered along down your body. Now eyeing your loincloth that was out of place. Rapidly moving your cloth back into place. Perverts is what you thought. Did they have nothing else to do? You were enemy’s for gods sake did they have no decency? You knew you had a nice body you had always been acknowledged about it back on earth even now sometimes. In response hissing at them causing all eyes really being on you now.
“Oh she really thinks she’s one of them?” One of them teased causing a ripple of laughs around the group.
“You are lucky I’m handcuffed or I’d gut you like a pig!” You responded getting a smirk out of him. God you hated them they thought they were all high and mighty compared to you. You hated people like them except for him. You noticed how he hadn’t laughed at you like the others but in turn glared them down. He still cared for you, you were still his wife at least legally.
As the heli landed you let out a deep breathe. You hated flying on planes but banshees and ikrans were different you actually enjoyed the rides the kids would take you on during the day when they wanted to show you a new trick they had learned. But planes just made you sick they could break down at any given time so who were you to trust them? The group stood up as the helicopter landed. Miles quickly gripped your cuffed hands as he led you out of the helicopter.
The inside of that thing smelled disgusting it rid of sweat and balls. God you hated how sweaty everyone was. As you entered the fresh air you observed the base. You hadn’t been here in years there was nothing good ever happening here anyways so why would you ever come back? There was so much tension between you two it was suffocating you.
“Where are we going?” You wondered as you were literally being pulled forward.
No answer
“Miles where are you taking me?” Your tone getting a little annoyed.
Still no response
“Miles im serious where are you taking me?”
“To get interrogated”
Interrogated? Wait that meant..No no no. He wouldn’t do that to you right? You had seen that machine they used on Na’vi warriors. It was basically a torture machine. It had killed one of the Na’vi before and you had a front row seat. You had watched as he begged in for them to stop while his screams filled the room. You watched as the blood from his nose covered his body. They just watched as it trickled down his face and watched him choked on it as he screamed in agony.
As you entered the main building you looked around at the humans running around the area with paperwork in their hands and the scientists conversated. It didn’t seem like they took much attraction towards you. That was good maybe you could slip past them later in hopes of leaving this hell hole you hadn’t even been in for an hour. Miles let you and the dreamwalkers into a large area. This was the main hub. It looked similar to how it was the last time they were here. It almost felt like deja vu.
And there it was the machine. Pulling back, you got the attention of the lobby as you begged them not to put you in that thing. Miles turned back as you got loose of his grip and ran the other way to only be met with another solider looking down at you.
“Miles please don’t put me into that thing pls” you begged turning back to him. Reaching for you “Honey I can’t go against orders” pulling you to the machine.
“No miles please!” You screamed as you were dragged on the tile floor. “Miles it’s going to kill me pls don’t” as you tried to rid of his grip but it was useless and you knew it he was 5x stronger than he was in his human body.
“Don’t fight it y/n you’re only making it harder” placing you in the holster.
Holding onto his arm that was holding you down you scratched and slapped at it. The fear overwhelmed the entirety of your body. You felt as if you were in a pit of lava being drowned in. Noticing the whole rooms attention was on you caused your movements to come to a stop. You felt embarrassed of how you acted, but you’d do anything to stop this machine. As he strapped you in your cry’s filled his senses as he tried his best not to give in. He didn’t want to do this this was the last thing he wanted to do. But there was no other way, he had to follow orders or they’d boot him. Tears now falling from your face your eyes made contact, he watched as they begged for his mercy as he stood back. Slowly shaking his head his feet failing him as he walked away.
A hard look human woman is walked over to you as you struggled. She seemed like she ran this whole gig. She was probably the big boss miles was so scared of you thought. She did look scary in her army pants and stright looking face eyeing you down.
“Hello y/n, I’m General Ardmore now we can do this the easy way you just tell us where Jake sully is hiding and you’ll be free”
“We both now damn well that’s not gonna happen”
Walking away with a smirk on her face sent shivers down your spine knowing exactly what was going to happen. Preparing yourself taking a deep breathe awaiting the pain that was bound to happen.
“Start it” comanding the soldier standing next to her
“Yes ma’am” pushing the button
Ewya help me you prayed as the machine started up. Your eyes stung as the bright light flashing on and off your eyes as they watched your thoughts. Grunting from the sting the pain started on your forehead. It felt as if someone was throwing boulders at you and not stopping. Looking around for some kind of relief all you got were stares from the soldiers. Looking for miles you finally spotted him in the back with a concerned face.
Screaming in pain you begged for them to stop. Each beg causing another tear to drain from your eyes twisting your hands into fists trying to cope in some way. It felt like they’d been at it for hours at this point. As blood trickled down from your bright red nose into your mouth it you heard a beep go off causing the machine to stop. Lightheaded you looked up finding miles being the one who stopped it.
You knew he wasn’t that cold, he still loved you and he couldn’t hide it. As you watched miles walking closer you could feel your eyelids drooping down till they were finally closed as you passed out.
Miles quickly pulled you out of the machine grips and into his arms. Throwing your arms over his shoulders in your past out state he turned to the General hoping she would listen to his advice.
“She is not your woman anymore colonel, she is an enemy so treat her like one” looking up at him as he nodded.
“Why don’t we try the personal angle?” Only getting an eye roll on response as she signaled the others to show miles to the interrogation room. As he followed them he could feel the blood from your nose dripping onto his shoulders. He regretted every second of what he did, he couldn’t see you screaming like that and not do anything. He wasn’t that kind of man, he was a man who took charge no matter the case.
Ducking under the doorway, he placed his hand over your head. In fear it would get bumped.
“You can put her here colonel” a tall male scientist said pointing to the table. It looked hard with nothing on it that just wouldn’t do.
“Get her a pillow” he stated not leaving room for defiance from him.
Nodding he quickly left the room going to fetch a pillow. As he stood there he couldn’t get the picture of you screaming his name out of his mind. He knew he could never imagine the pain you had gone through today. He wanted to cradle you in his arms and tell you everything was going to be ok like he used to.
The scientist hurried into the room with a large white pillow in his hands. Too scared to look Miles in the eyes he placed the pillow on the large table.
“Hey im gonna Need some wipes too” looking down at the man.
“Yes sir” quickly scurring away
Miles walked over and gently placed you down while holding our head hoping not to hurt it. Placing you on your back he watched your chest move up and down. You looked beautiful when you were sleeping. Leaning down he placed a small kiss on your forehead.
“Here sir” handing him the wipes
Nodding he took them in his hands. They were tiny in his grasp causing a chuckle out of miles. Lifting your head on his lap as he sat beside you. He slowly opened the package and wiped the remaining blood off your face.
“I’ve missed you” he quietly whispered.
The feeling of guilt was always inthe back of his mind ever since he woke up in his new body. You were the first thing I thought about. You were his everything and not having that broke him. Keeping it inside never helped but who would he talk to? The other recoms were like family to him but not close enough to open up.
As he finished wiping the blood off he noticed your eyes opening. Now looking up at him you turned your head lazily realizing what position you were in. You flew up off the table now on your feet and in between his legs as you pulled your knife from your thigh bringing it up to his neck. He didn’t even flinch, he was never a man who was scared. But you, you were one of the few things he was scared of. That was one of the reasons he even married you. He loved that feeling you gave him when you two were together he never knew your next move and that excited him in every way.
“Do not touch me miles” you spit as you watched his hands fly up in defeat.
“I was just cleaning you up darling” giving a smirk on response as he matched his breathing with yours
Finally letting up you threw the knife across the room and moved back never breaking eye contact.
“Why don’t you sit down sweetie?” He offered signaling you to sit next to him.
“I’m not a fucking child miles” you spat again
Letting a silence engulf you both he finally opened his mouth
“Yk you were the first thing I thought about when I woke up” looking down at his hands in his lap.
Suprised by his words you took a step closer.
“Should’ve thought abt that before you cheated on me”
“Y/n I never wan-“ being quickly cut off
“How could you do that to me miles?”
“She meant nothing to me”
“Don’t give me that bullshit miles”
Standing up he looked into you “I’m sorry”
Reaching out for your hand you moved away breaking eye contact too scared you’d break in front of him.
“You think a sorry is gonna make it better?” You asked fighting back tears.
“No y/n i don’t”
A tear quickly slipped out being wiped away just as fast as you went to sit down.
“I cried for you every night, every single night. Just to find out l you cheated” another tear coming out but you just let it it didn’t matter you were gonna cry eventually.
“You were the only thing on my mind when I did it I swear sweetheart” coming to sit next to you.
As he sat down you placed your head on his shoulder as you let the tears fall in silence. You were too tired to fight you couldn’t take anymore stress you wanted to fall over and die.
Looking down at you he watched them fall one by one eventually turning into a waterfall of them.
“I am so in love with you sweetheart I don’t even blame you for hating me”
“Thank you- for stopping that machine”
“I love you”
“I know”
Your moment being quickly interrupted by the opening door cutting you off from the outside. Moving your gaze to the door way you watched as one of the recom soldiers walked in. Sitting up you wiped away your tears causing your face to turn red.
“General wanted to know how it’s going sir” now standing in front of doorway awaiting his answer keeping his eyes on you.
“Yeah Lyle let her know the hostage will be joining us on missions”
Confused you flash miles a confusing look as Lyle walked out.
“I am going back home miles, you cannot keep me here”
“There aren’t many options here sweetheart”
“I will run away I swear to god miles”
Standing up he smirked not saying a word as he ducked under the doorway. “Wait miles don’t leave!” Running to tug his tail back.
“Huh- stop that” swatting your hand away. “Don’t leave me here miles pls” you hated it in here it felt suffocating and lonely even when he was with you in here. You missed the jungle and being able to roam free whenever you wanted to.
“you’ll have to put on normal clothes”
Thinking it through you finally gave in as he led you down the hallway you looked into the rooms as you passed them in curiosity. The ground felt strange to you. You kinda enjoyed the way your feet slid off the slick flooring with every step you took. You had gotten so used to being barefoot in the grass you had almost forgotten what it felt like with shoes.
Stopping at a door with a large sign saying “storage” on it miles opened the avatar sized door letting you go in first. The room was filled with grey steel made racks of boxes with different labels on them. You hated how boring it looked, pandoras colors never failed to surprise you but this was just disgusting. Following miles down the aisles finally going down one and watching him going through the boxes.
“What size are you darling?”
“You don’t remember?” Flashing him a smirk
“I-“ being cut off as you moved in front of him now almost skin to skin with this man gave a warm feeling in your groin area signaling a blush on your face as you looked through the boxes. Miles just looked at you at how small you were it got him hot just thinking about it. You were so tiny in his grasp, so little and fragile. He loved that, he felt the urge to protect you especially after todays events. Even when he was human he was always protective of you in any setting. A male coworker making you laugh a little too much? There he was immediately giving you a kiss on the cheek and holding you by the waist.
As you rummaged through the boxes you finally found your size in army pants. Turning around you realized just how close you really were looking up to his gaze you noticed how his eyes trailed your body and every movement it made. Your body failed you as you could feel your slick sticking to your loincloth as your breath picked up. Miles noticed how your breathe changed so fast. Snapping out of it you quickly lowered your gaze to the ground too embarrassed to say anything.
“You got the right size?” Letting out a grunt trying to rid the tension.
“Yes yes I did” you hated him so why did you get so flustered over this? You mentally cursed yourself for it causing your expression to change quickly.
“Do you want any underwear with that?” Smirking at the thought of you being commando under those clothes.
“Shut up” rolling your eyes as you looked for the label underwear on the boxes. After a few minutes you finally found it. As you opened it you could feel his eyes wandering your barley covered body as you stood on your tippy toes.
Looking through the box, in your surprise you found a hot pink silk thong. Your eyes widened at the sight, you hadn’t worn one in years. Pulling it out from the box you looked up at miles with a smirk on your face putting it on display right in front of him.
“You think I should wear these? I know you love it when I wear my pretty little thongs” you watched as his gaze lowered to the display in front of him causing an even bigger smirk to appear on his face.
“Oh you think that’s funny do ya” tilting his head waiting for your answer
“Yeah and what are you gonna do about it?” You were walking on thin ice at this point you knew how to push his buttons and oh you definitely pressed his buttons.
“Don’t try and play this game with me y/n, cause I will take you here and now you just gotta say the word bunny” as he squatted getting to your level with his smirk still plastered on his little face.
Your face flushed at his words, you knew he was a man of his word he’s always been. The way he was eyeing you like a starved man made your thighs clench at the sight. He looked ravenous at your vulnerable state. Since he was now in a new body that meant his senses were heightened, which meant his smell was keen on everything especially you. It engulfed him the closer he got to you, he knew exactly what you wanted your scent gave it away and he was ready to deliver.
“Don’t do it” was all your mind was telling you. He didn’t deserve you, he was your enemy you weren’t on the same side as him. so why did you want this so bad? Why did you act like this with him? You would never admit it out loud but you fell in love with him again. The second you two made eye contact in the jungle you could feel it. The way his eyes sparkled as he watched you just laying there on the ground made you tremble. You would always love him no matter what because he was your husband and you were his wife. Nobody else’s only each others. You had begged Ewya every night to make it stop but the feelings wouldn’t go away he will always be the one and there was no changing that. So you let go. You finally gave in it was all too much you couldn’t deny it anymore you wanted this. You wanted him and you couldn’t stop yourself from that.
“I-I uhm” you couldn’t get a clear sentence out you were too flustered at his comment you wanted it so bad but you just couldn’t get the right words out.
“Hm alright then” standing up with a dissatisfied face.
“So are you gonna put those on or what sweetie?” Looking down at you waiting to you to strip right in front of him.
“Look away” not making eye contact
“Aw come on I’ve seen it all before. Are you really embarrassed?” Smiling at your embarrassment
“I am not embarrassed miles” You weren’t and you weren’t scared to strip in front of him.
“then do it”
“Fine” grabbing your pants you untied your loincloth and watched as it dropped to the ground.
You could feel his eyes burn into your skin as you stood naked from the stomach down and you loved it. You had him wrapped around your finger. Looking up you made eye contact with him as you moved your fingers closer to your heat. Bringing your middle finger to your clit you slowly started drawing circles never breaking eye contact.
His mouth gaped in awe watching your slick trickling down your leg as you let out small mewls of pleasure. Picking up the pace you sat down and spread yourself on the cold cement ground opening your legs for a full view.
“M-miles” breaking eye contact to pull your head back in pleasure.
“Yes baby?” His voice was low and smooth he was hanging on your every word.
Unable to form words you just let out little mumbles as your slick reached the floor and your back arched. He watched every movement as if his life depended on it. Grunting at the sight he brought himself down now all fours creeping closer to your heat.
“N-no touching” letting out a gasp as your climax reaches closer.
Getting a hiss in return he sat down watching the display in front of him licking his lips from the thought of having himself inside you. He hated that he couldn’t touch you, no matter of fact he despised it he missed having you skin to skin. He admired the way you flinched at your own touch as if you weren’t used to it.
“Looking so good for daddy in this position bunny” it was like on command you climaxed, clenching your thighs together as a wave of pleasure exploded through your body. Keeping your gaze up you watched as miles crawled over and spread your legs running the thick of his tongue along your throbbing cunt catching any loose juices still spilling out of you.
letting out a loud moan he quickly threw his hand over your mouth to not bring any attention to the both of you. Letting out little muffles under his grasp he plunged 2 fingers into your sobbing cunt.
“Oh Ewya!” You screamed at the sudden movements causing your walls to clench around his massive digits, getting a grunt out of him.
“You gotta be quiet for daddy sweet girl” nodding your head as you lowered your lewd sounds. You could feel as his thrusts fastened as you reached closer to your second orgasm as you lost yourself in pleasure.
“m’so close fuck miles” feeling his tongue swirl around your clit to reach your climax, finally pushing you over the edge and letting out one last mewl of pleasure before you fell back to the ground.
Crawling over your small frame, as he admired your vulnerable state. Cupping the back of your head bringing it to the crook of his neck as he held you in his arms. He loved holding you, remembering back as soon he would get off work he would just lay with you in bed and hold you in his arms just admiring your beauty from all angles. He couldn’t get enough of you in this state he wanted to stay like this forever but all good things must come to an end right?
Standing up, you wrapped your arms around his neck looking to meet his gaze you watched as his golden eyes stared into you, getting a smile out of you you let yourself down.
“Y/n I love you”
“I- uhm I should get ready” looking around for your loose clothing in a hurry.
Collecting your clothing you quickly pulled the baggy army pants over your legs still glistening in your slick. It felt strange to have real pants on. You felt almost contained in them? No it wasn’t that maybe suffocated? No but nonetheless you didn’t like it but you had no choice.
“We should go” he proposed as he started towards the door.
“Yeah” nodding in agreement as you finished clothing yourself with a grey tank top fitting your frame perfectly. Walking out you worried for the clan. You had hoped they weren’t missing you too much. You were one of them now after all. But what would they think of this? These lewd actions with the enemy of all people. He’s killed so many Na’vi how can you come back from this…
———————————————————————
Ok y’all I’m sorry if the smut part is bad I’m so scared y’all are gonna hate it . It’s only my like second time writing smut so just be warned lol! But I did enjoy with chapter I’m excited to write the next one 😈 I don’t think there will b any smut in the next chapter but that could Change so don’t rely on that. But enjoy lol I hope you liked it as much as I did!
Taglist: @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @violet-19999 @iggy5055 @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @kittycow8875 @perseny @a--1--1--3 @clockmax
219 notes · View notes
spicywhenspeaking · 4 months
Text
If I'm There: Chapter Twelve
Tumblr media
read from the start
summary: Noah and Natalie meet in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.
warnings : mentions of alcohol abuse. this story contains mature themes, minors do not interact.
taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens @thisbicc @thebadchic
Tumblr media
It's the first Saturday in a while that I don’t have work and all I want to do is watch movies and rot in my bed. I decide to wait to talk to Noah about the voicemail, I don't want to think the worst It doesn’t stop the feelings from festering but I’m trying to be mature.
 I head downstairs to grab something to eat for breakfast and I see a letter on the kitchen counter addressed to me. It’s from the scholarship fund I applied for last year. 
Dear Miss Howlston, 
We regret to inform you that we are unable to process your application due to it being incomplete. You are therefore ineligible for the McGovern Scholarship Fund……
My breathing goes rapid as I read the words. Inside is the application I sent in. I flip to the end page, tears welling into my eyes and blurring my vision, and see the highlighted section where my Mom was supposed to sign. It is empty. I asked her over and over and over. I even sat in front of her with a pen but she was too preoccupied with opening her next bottle of wine to pay any attention. I should have just forged it. Why didn’t I forge it?!
“What the fuck.” I whimper out as heavy tears fall like raindrops.
“What the fuck!” I repeat. My limit has been reached. I cannot hold it in anymore.
I crumple the paper, forgetting the bowl of cereal I prepared on the counter, and run upstairs as sobs begin to wrack my body. I get to my room, slam the door, and dive head-first into my pillows as another sob leaves my mouth. I grab my phone and try Noah’s cell, the feelings of jealousy are pushed away for the moment, I just need to talk to him. 
Ring ring ring ring *click* “Hey Natty! It’s Nick, sorry Noah just ran out with Alex to grab everyone coffees. I guess he forgot his phone, what's up?”
 A teenage girl can only handle so much in so little time, I cannot handle this. One hit after the next and now when I need Noah, just to hear him and talk to him he's with some other girl he didn't even tell me about. “Nick, I-” I pause. “Just forget I called. I’ll talk to you later.” I say and as I press the red end-call button I hear Nick's “Wait, Nat-” click. 
The emotions I’m feeling are in an epic battle for dominance. The sadness and anger I feel towards my Mom, the loneliness and heartache I feel towards Noah. Is this life with him? Just waiting and hoping I hear from him. I should have told him how I felt about it before now, now I’m upset. I’m angry. I lay back against the pillows as fresh tears fall onto my cheeks and I hear a soft knock at my door.
“What?” I call out. 
“Um, can I come in?’ Kyle asks softly.
“Sure.” I roll away from the door so my back is facing him as he opens up and takes a step inside. 
“So I saw the letter in the kitchen,” he says and walks towards the bed. I feel it dip as he takes a seat on the corner. “I’m so sorry Nat.”
The tears fall harder and he places his hand gently on my shoulder and squeezes. 
“It was the biggest one” sob “I ca-can’t afford the sc-schools I applied to without it.” I wipe the tears from my eyes. “The money I’ve saved from work is supposed to go towards moving and housing. Fuck. Why did I think art school was a good idea? What was I thinking? I’ll be stuck here for the rest of my life while everyone else is off living their dreams.” I know I’m being melodramatic but I don’t care. 
“I have some money saved from working with Dad this summer,” Kyle tells me in a soft voice. “you could have it for school.”
I turn around, surprised at his offer. “Kyle. I couldn't accept that. You earned that working for Dad, having probably a horrible summer.” He laughs at my comment.
My phone lights up with Noah's contact photo. I stare at it for a few moments before hitting the end call button sending him to voicemail. 
A few seconds later its ringing again and I reject the call and turn off my phone. I just can’t talk to him right now. 
“Um, is everything alright?” Kyle asks awkwardly after noticing me decline Noah’s calls.
“Yeah…well. Sort of? Not really. It’s complicated. I need to talk to him but I don’t want to right now. It’s.-” I look at Kyle and he has an unnatural look of concern on his face. “I know you don't want to hear about my relationship drama. You said so yourself.” 
A look of shame crosses his face. “I was an asshole, in more ways the one and I’m sorry for saying that. You can talk to me about anything Nat.” I sniffle as more tears continue falling. “I appreciate that Ky, I really do. I just don’t want to think about this thing with Noah and this scholarship thing, you know I didn’t even get to apply for financial aid because Mom didn't give me her proof of income. I’m totally screwed.” I wish I could call her. Yell at her for ruining my future. Scream at her for being so selfish, for being sick, for making Kyle and I take care of ourselves for so long. “I can apply for student loans I guess,” I mumble out, the last thing I wanted to do was build a mountain of debt. “Ugh, I don't want to think about it anymore.”
“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Kyle asks.
Sitting up in bed I wipe the remaining tears from my face. I know my eyes must be puffy and red but with a small smile on my face I agree to the movie. “As long as it's horror, no lovey stuff right now. Just blood and guts.” Kyle laughs, “deal” 
We go downstairs and decide to watch “Sinister.” It offers an escape from my current thoughts and after watching Kyle tells me he’s ordering a pizza for dinner. Dad texted that he’s staying at his house near his job site since he has an early morning, not much of a surprise. 
When I get into my room I turn my phone back on and see I have some missed texts from Noah.
Noah: hey Natty :) Nick said you called, you ok? 1:20pm
Noah: Sorry I didn't call last night, the show ended late and we all stayed up until like 4am. 1:20pm
Noah: Natty? Everything okay? 1:35pm
Noah: call me when you get a chance, I miss the sound of your voice. 2:26pm
I stare at the messages. “Everything okay”  I repeat in an annoyed voice. “No, everything isnt okay. My future is fucked and I have no plan.” I say to myself.
I take a deep calming breath and call Noah. 
Ring ring- *click* “Natty! I’m so glad you called. I miss you so much.” Noahs voice is light and happy and I just wish he was here. Two weeks between tests or projects goes by with lightning speed, two weeks without Noah moves at a glacial pace.
“Hey Noah.” My voice is soft and I have to clear my throat to break through the tightness forming. “I miss you too.” 
“I’m sorry I didn’t call last night,” but you did call, you just didnt know. “We didnt leave the venue until like midnight, it was wild. So much fun, I wish you were here.” 
“Yeah, sounds like you guys were having a really great time.” I’m trying to hide the emotions in my voice, just wanting to hear him and pretend nothing is wrong, but that can’t last forever. 
“Is everything alright Nat? You sound…weird, not weird but..you don't sound like yourself.” Noah says. 
Fuck, so much for hiding my emotions. “um I just got some news from my scholarship application today that was upsetting, and last night -” I try but Noah’s voice cuts me off. 
“Was it less than you expected?” He asks. 
“They denied me the scholarship and last ni-.” Noah cuts me off again. 
“What??!” Noah almost shrieked and I had to pull the phone from my ear. “Denied? With your grades? And you got first place in the last youth art contest last month, how could they deny you? When did you find out?”
“Um yeah, it's because my mom didn't sign something, I didn't realize it was sent in without it. I feel like such an idiot.” I mutter out defeated.
“Fuck, Natty. That sucks. Did something else happen? You called this morning and then just disappeared.” Noah questions.
“Well yeah, you did call me last night Noah.I guess you pocket-dialed me.” I tell him. “You were talking to some girl and she was asking you about the next leg of this tour. She was saying how much she’d miss you if didn’t go with them.” 
“Oh. Shit.” he breathes. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just Alex from the band we're opening for on the tour, she doesn't mean it like anything.”
“But you said maybe.” my voice is small.
“Well I have to consider it..Nat. it's a huge opportunity. You understand that right?” He sounds exasperated, like wondering how I could be opposed. 
“And school? What about that?” I ask, with more edge in my voice than I meant.
“Alex dropped out and her band is getting huge, I don’t need a high school diploma to make my dreams come true,” he responded with a slight sting in defense. 
“Oh, and whatever Alex says goes huh? You're just dropping out?” And now I’m getting angry, the festering feelings that disappeared with the movie are returning with white-hot intensity. “You were with her last night after you said you’d try and call me and then this morning I got that letter that absolutely destroys my future and when I call Nick answers and you are busy again with her..” I bite out.
“What are you implying?” he asks.
“I’m not impling anything, I tired to call. You were busy. Thats a fact.” I bite back.
“I’m sorry Natty, but nothing happened on the trip, with Alex if that's what you're thinking,” he says. “This kind of exposure is exactly what I’ve been working for. I thought you would be excited for me? I thought you believed in me?” Now his voice is small, like he’s genuinely upset and I feel sick that I’m the one that would have caused it. 
“I don't think anything happened. I trust you, Noah. I'm just going through a lot right now. I hung up on Nick because I was upset and then I didn't return your texts because I was still upset. With you, with my mom just about everything. I needed you.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “Of course, I believe in you Noah, but I mean you're talking about just leaving school? We're seniors, so close to graduating already why throw it all away when you're so close.
“If I don't take this chance now I'll be throwing away this dream, there's no guarantee I'll get this opportunity again.” 
“So what? Do you want me to just sit around and wait for you to call? I mean that is if you call?” I ask him. 
“Why is this a fight? I thought you'd be happy for me?” Noah’s voice is rising with frustration.
“It’s not a fight Noah, I just thought you’d take the time to at least talk about it with me about it first. I mean you talk all the time about our futures like you want them to be together but you’re making these huge decisions and not even telling me about it first.” I try to keep my voice steady but I know it's wobbling a little.
“I haven’t even decided yet, you’re talking like I’m doing this to hurt you. I am thinking about our future Natty, you could alway come with me?” He says and I scoff. 
“You’re not serious, are you? I could graduate early but not until the spring and after all the work I’ve done with my GPA. You’d ask me to just drop out?” I ask.
“You’d ask me to say no to this opportunity?” Noah questions in response. 
“You know what Noah? I think we should just talk about this when you get home. I have a lot of homework that I need to work on and this is just too much right now on top of everything else.” I tell him in a defeated voice. 
“I’m sorry Natty, I love you. I didn’t want to talk about it like this. I can’t stand you being sad because of me.” 
“I love you too Noah, It'll be okay. Let's just talk later okay?" 
We finish our goodbyes and I toss my phone back on the bed and take the homework out of my backpack.
The rest of the week is slow. School and work are uneventful. Noah and I barely text and it feels awful, what happened? It was great for months and he leaves for two weeks and falls apart? Is our relationship that fragile? 
Friday I’m working behind the counter while a jazz trio plays for the night as our live musical guests. I don’t hate it, I guess. Noah is supposed to get in tonight but we didn't really make plans, I’m not sure if I’ll see him. I’m busy checking the syrups and making sure all of the milk options are full in the fridge when I hear someone clear their throat behind me.
I turn around and like just the thought of him caused him to appear Noah is standing in front of me. 
“Hey Natty”
Tumblr media
Next chapter here!!!! Thank you besties!!!!!!
divider from here!
47 notes · View notes
beanghostprincess · 2 months
Text
Married Sanuso won't leave my mind.
A 50 y/o Sanji running the Baratie after Zeff's death while his 48 y/o husband Usopp is the one helping him cultivate most of his ingredients and also tells all the clients about their past adventures with Monkey D. Luffy. They're all always captivated and entertained by Usopp's way with words and storytelling skills, so Sanji lets him do whatever he wants as long as he doesn't keep the clients too distracted. They don't always stay there, of course, they use any chance they can get to go on trips too and visit all the people they love, even if Sanji doesn't seem to be capable (physically) of leaving the restaurant for long (he's always worried somebody might need food urgently, and who is Usopp to keep Sanji from following his passion? As long as he doesn't overwork himself...). They're all doing their own stuff, but the crew comes by regularly to eat there and have a good time together, always staying past closing time and having a private party only for them. For old times' sake.
Sanji has longer hair now. Wavy. Reaches past his shoulders and he often needs to wear a ponytail to cook, but Usopp just loves it way more when it's undone and messy after a long day of working. His goatee is longer now but it still isn't a beard, he just styles it so he can braid it like his father used to do. Zeff would call him sentimental, but Sanji thinks it's nice to remember him this way. He might look like he's more exhausted than ever, but he has never been more relaxed and happier in his entire life. His whole body is covered with scars from his past. Scars he doesn't regret and remembers fondly and others he would rather forget but, knowing he won't, he just lets the future do its thing and leave them behind. When the future is being a bit of a bastard and attacks him back with nightmares and memories, Usopp is always there to hold him and bring him back to the present. So it's alright, even if the scars still hurt, because Usopp is always there to catch him if they bring him down. He wears his wedding ring in his left hand and he's always staring at it while cooking. Sometimes he considers wearing it as a necklace instead because he often gets distracted by it, but he wouldn't have it any other way and he knows that the only right place for his ring to rest is on his fingers, protecting his hands and, at the same time, his heart.
Usopp now wears dreads like his father, but longer. Way longer hair than he used to. Sanji keeps lending him hair ties because he forgets how bothersome it can get to have such long hair, and somehow he always loses them in between all of his inventions (in the workshop Sanji asked Franky to make connected to the Baratie so Usopp could do his own things too). He wants to grow a beard but it always seems too short for him and he can't make it grow longer, but his husband says he looks extremely hot anyway and it'd be bothersome to kiss otherwise, so Usopp is happy like this. Usopp has never been more motivated to work. He spends his day at the workshop, telling stories to the clients or helping Sanji in the kitchen (because he now knows a few things about cooking). It's a dream come true, being able to rest but keep creating and going on adventures whenever they want. Nami has helped him tattoo some stuff on his arms and chest. Nothing too eccentric but cool enough to catch people's attention (his own designs!). Most people ask about them, and if you're one of the lucky ones, he'll tell you what each tattoo means, usually leading to one of the Strawhat's most crucial adventures. His ring is something everybody knows about because he won't shut up about it. He keeps showing it to everybody who passes by and dares to say something about him or his husband. And then he always mentions Franky and how he was the one to make their wedding rings.
They live peacefully. Kind of. Sort of. It's hard to do so when you're from the crew of the King of the Pirates. A lot of people come by to challenge them to duels, and even if Usopp really wants to show off sometimes, Sanji is just a bit too done with that because they always make such a mess in his restaurant... Whatever. It's not like the fights last long anyway. Poor souls that try to fight them. A lot of girls, actually, try to get in between them too, and Sanji hasn't changed a bit. He's aged like fine wine and he's one of Luffy's wings, not to mention he's also the best cook known and he was the one to find the All Blue. So... A lot of women are into him (his money. His status. His reputation. His abilities. His past) and he's too weak to say no to them, so Usopp has to keep an eye on him sometimes. He's easily manipulated by women and the only girl Usopp allows to do that is Nami. But it's alright, really. They live a very calm life, despite the small details like random fights and women trying to break their relationship (impossible. Even if Usopp wasn't there to stop them, Sanji has his limits and he would never disrespect his husband like that). Sanji cooks. Usopp creates. All the paintings around the restaurant were painted by Usopp, and Sanji couldn't be prouder, always telling customers about it with the brightest of smiles.
They love the word "husband". "Mari". Whatever they're in the mood for. They keep loving each other like the first day, and arguing like they were still teenagers. But the way they love has so many years behind (years of longing. Of desperation. Of friendship. Of growth) that every year it feels warmer. Like home. Sanji plays with Usopp's ring when they're going to bed. It helps him fall asleep. Usopp holds his hands close to his chest to keep them safe. He's still not taller than Sanji but he's wider now. A bit bigger. And Sanji wants to melt and sleep in between his arms forever, even if he knows they'll wake up tangled up and snoring, with Usopp's feet hanging from the bed while Sanji's hair gets in his mouth in the middle of the night.
They never let go of each other's hands, though. That's something they won't allow even if they're asleep.
And they always wake up to the sound of their rings together. It doesn't matter who wakes up first, it's their way of telling the other they're there. They're safe. That they can wake up knowing they aren't alone. If Sanji wakes up first, he kisses Usopp's face while tapping on his ring with his own. And if Usopp is the one to wake up first, he does the same, except his kisses land on Sanji's hands instead.
They used to do this too when they were only teenagers aboard the Sunny, Sanji remembers. Just not with the rings. He kept imagining them there, though, every time, but they weren't there.
And now that they are, he can't imagine a world in which he doesn't wake up next to the stupid sniper he calls his husband.
27 notes · View notes
amywritesthings · 9 months
Text
silver underground. / chapter 12
Tumblr media
( Read on AO3 )
Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)
Word Count: 4.2K
Summary: flashback two - you're fifteen. it's been three years since you last saw the boy named levi.
Warnings: depictions of violence, mentions of death, injuries, levi doesn't have a single chill cell in his body, hurt/comfort, wound dressing, levi is 16 and mc is 15
Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.
Tumblr media
CHAPTER 12 - FLASHBACK: TWO
Three years pass without seasons.
Every now and then you think about him — the small boy you fought, the small boy you shared bread with—
The small boy you would never see around the fighting circuits ever again.
Levi.
For someone as scrawny and unassuming as he might have been, it’s hard to forget him — how piercing his gray eyes are, how his voice carries like a whisper in the wind.
Days come and nights go, but in your loneliness, you seek what could have been.
Sometimes they’re nightmares — his eyes turn hollow, lifeless, as he crushes the life clear from your lungs by his hands around your throat. An attack out of necessity and never out of anger; you often wake up gasping, holding your neck with your hand where he once squeezed.
Sometimes they’re dreams — he appears at Roxy’s without cuts or bruises and sits besides you. His clothes aren’t tattered anymore. His hair stays the same. He shares the same food with you, over and over, until you can no longer eat bread without thinking of Levi.
You imagine conversations about nothing in particular. Most of the time, you do all of the talking: about your life, about made-up aspirations, about wishing you could get the hell out of here and fight for something bigger than another person’s purse. 
If he ever responds, then you can't remember. The details of the exchange tend to disappear as soon as you open your eyes.
And you wonder:
Maybe he’s taller now.
Maybe he’s managed to escape to a life on the surface with the living world, making a name for himself in the sun.
(There is a third option to his fate, one more permanent and honest, but you don’t wish to entertain it.)
In your head, you’ve told him everything:
How you cannot picture your mother, but you hope you really do have her eyes.
How you don’t remember your father, but have a feeling you might have his nose.
How you’ve lost so many siblings as you grew up to violence. You tell him their names, their favorite colors, their little quirks, so someone can remember them, too.
How you want to someday see beyond the Underground City, beyond the Walls, and make something of a name you barely own. James; it was a name Mother gave you, but it isn’t your given name. You know your first name. You were just forbidden to use it around her.
(She hoped you’d forget. So many kids do. You never did.)
He doesn’t say much in return to your confessions, but it’s nice to tell someone else.
To exist in someone else.
Except he isn't real, not really.
The boy indifferent to winning a fight to the death one gloomy evening in the underground three years ago is only a figment of your imagination.
.
.
.
.
Until he isn’t.
.
.
.
.
Even off the clock, the street fights never cease.
Strangers love to think — to pretend — they can take on fighters. At fifteen, you’ve learned the reality of this all too well.
The dim lit alleyways and backroads paved to avoid wandering Military Police offer plenty of opportunities to get jumped by begrudged managers, other fighters, other people — the same snakes lining Mother’s pockets.
To them, it's a chance to take on the seasoned veterans out of the ring but with the advantage in the element of surprise.
It’s how you’ve ended up here tonight — trapped in an alleyway a few blocks from Roxy’s pub with nowhere to run.
Your assailants’ silhouettes have their intentions etched all of their postures.
Three against one. 
It was supposed to be an unfair fight.
And it was — for them. 
You find yourself being held back by the armpits by one of men keeping you stationary, your back to his chest. The other two, emboldened by the rare chance, wail on your face and torso. They’re cheap shots. Nothing you can’t handle. 
None of their hits would have landed if you hadn’t just left a fight an hour prior. They'd caught you off guard while nursing your wounds after winding down from a victory.
These three idiots are not calculated, though. Each want a chance to show off their moves, to prove they're strong against the strongest.
(They haven’t thought this attack through, have they?)
You’re the one with the advantage.
So you make them pay for it.
You manage to escape the hold from behind by slamming the back of your head into the one person's nose, causing the tallest boy to scream in agony. Next you attack the girl fumbling to keep you still.
You grapple and punch your way out of their triangulated attack, dropping each body like flies.
The first goes down with a kick to the groin.
The second crumbles the minute you flip her over your back.
The third? He tries to run, but you quickly follow and slam his face straight into the brick wall.
You step back to observe your work: all of lay there groaning and whimpering on the ground, spent and pleading to be left alone.
(Does that count as four victories in one day?)
Except you can't stay to admire, not down here. In an attempt to avoid potential onlookers hoping to brawl next, you run.
You stick to the shadows you’ve grown to memorize and nurse your fresh wounds as you limp towards shelter. 
Going home isn’t an option — Mother will question the fresh wounds with scrutiny.
You have to fix them alone, here, with nothing but the clothes on your back.
You park yourself against a brick wall to catch your breath, dissolving a wheeze to something more stable as your teeth grit with the shooting pain in your torso.
From an initial mental assessment, your ribs feel bruised but hopefully not broken. The one son of a bitch got a shot to your jaw, but when you move it side to side, it isn’t clicking. 
Good. All good signs. So far it’s superficial.
Though your hands might need bandages before next week’s—
“You look like shit.”
A baritone voice sounds at the other end of the alleyway.
Your neck cracks by how quick you lift your chin to find it.
Maybe you did get hit hard enough to hallucinate, because what you see staring straight at you are piercing gray eyes you’ve seen a thousand times by now.
However, it’s only the second time you would have seen them in the flesh.
This person — a young man — has jet black hair shaved at an undercut just above his ears. The front of his hair flops along the edges of his face, framing his pointed nose and even pointier scowl.
You know those eyes.
You know that stare.
He wears a white, long-sleeved shirt, bundled up by a burnt orange vest that buttons at his abdomen, and a pair of fitted dark trousers. It fits better than the mangled tee you’ve recalled for all these years. His hands are at his sides, resting in fists.
“Mind your fucking business,” you bite back in warning, ignoring the shooting pain your torso.
He ignores your aggressive demand and dares another step forward. 
“How bad did they get you?”
You blink in rapid succession to see if maybe his form changes.
It doesn’t.
You clench your jaw as you push your back from the brick wall.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he cooly replies, feet stopping just outside your personal bubble.
(This cannot be real.)
You shamble a step towards him, but pain shoots straight through your system. Your arm instinctively wraps protectively around your abdomen. 
His eyes drop to follow. 
“I guess the answer is bad enough.”
“Fuck off,” you exhale, maintaining an aloof attitude in conjunction with the hammering of your heart in your chest.
“Sure." The word drips with boredom, but he doesn’t turn to leave.
Instead the two of you stand there, staring, allowing a beat to pass.
You’re afraid your internalized excitement — relief — has overtaken your entire face.
Levi.
He really exists.
“You can leave, you know,” you force yourself to tell him. “I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, you’ll be fine so long as those shitheads don’t get up.”
Your attention flickers over his shoulder, past the rows of buildings lining the streets where you’ve left three unconscious idiots to rot.
So he saw the aftermath of the jump.
(How much did he see?)
There is something hidden between the lines of his statement that has you reconsidering. Levi’s voice is nothing like you remember. It’s languid. Smooth, like a buttered whiskey. 
Your first thought is that his voice doesn’t match his height in the slightest — he’s still short, never quite hitting that growth spurt you imagined in your sleep.
“I can’t believe you’re still alive,” you finally tell him, unable to hold in the thought any longer.
He shrugs a noncommittal shoulder and resumes his trek towards you. 
“I get that a—”
“Whoa.”
You stumble back a step, using the wall to keep your balance while your other hand creates a barrier between you. 
“Hold on. What the hell are you doing?”
He says nothing beyond a tilt of his chin: really?
“I said I’m fine,” you repeat.
His tongue clicks. Tch. “Yeah, and I’m six-foot fucking three.”
The deadpan joke takes you by surprise, forcing you to lock eyes. Levi doesn’t betray the passive act he’s putting on, but he doesn’t stop moving, either. 
Not until his chest stops where your open palm hangs in the air.
The teenager regards you briefly, gray eyes flickering down then up.
“Roxy’s is close.”
“I know.”
“They have back rooms with supplies.”
“I know.”
“So why not go?”
He’s taunting you. Great. 
You draw in a slow inhale through your nose, only to halt when a sharp pang hits once more. A pathetic squeak of pain exits your throat before you can suppress it.
“C’mon, dumbass.”
In that moment, Levi swats your boundary away with a flippant hand. He crosses the threshold, attention fixated on you as he drops a centimeter in height. You wait with baited breath when he dips to situate a strong arm under your armpits, pressing your battered body right beside his.
You can smell something herbal on his breath, and the world feels a little smaller.
“Why?” you ask before you can stop yourself.
“Because,” is all he replies.
He could be leading you to more danger. He could have switched sides and turned into an MP rat of the Underground. He could be a lot of things, and you have one last fight in you to ward him off, but you… don’t.
He’s surprisingly gentle when he takes a step forward, testing just how hurt you might be. You limp beside him, determined to look brave. Strong.
He never moves faster than the pace you’re able to give.
Levi is right: Roxy’s pub is close. And every single inebriated soul at Roxy’s knows you, which is why you avoided the watering hole at all costs. You might be fifteen now, but you’re still under her reign. If Mother was drinking early, or one of your siblings— 
He must have a psychic link to your stream of worry, because the first right turn he takes is into another alleyway. You recognize where he’s headed immediately:
Not the supply closet but the staff back room door.
“You have a key?” you ask, perplexed.
“No,” is all he replies.
Once you both make it to the door, he maneuvers your body off of him and props your back against the wall adjacent to the entryway.
Levi doesn’t fumble into his trouser pockets. He doesn’t pat down his vest.
He instead takes a decided step back.
Then he kicks hard, flinging the wooden door wide.
Your eyes mirror, rounding like large saucers.
He appears not the least bit bothered by what he’s done, instead returning to retrieve you under his arm. You reach for him this time, understanding his intention. Awkwardly the two of you pass through the opening of the door sideways, squeezing chest to chest to fold inwards.
To go from his hands on your throat to sandwiching together in the midst of a break-in, you’re sure you’re still dreaming or dead on a cobblestone street.
Levi shuffles you both to a chair situated askew in the tiny backroom and unceremoniously drops you onto it, lowering with you so not to spark any added pain to invisible wounds. For someone you envisioned so violently, he's... gentle. Careful.
You’re watching him like a mirage that may flutter like ash in the wind.
None of this makes sense.
Why is he helping you?
(A worry lingers in the back of your mind: perhaps he’s not.)
“Oi.”
You return to your body and find yourself staring at the open door, lopsided on its hinges.
You blink to the teenager’s face with cloudy interest as he stares down at you.
“Eyes on me. They aren’t coming.”
They. The assailants.
You realize he must have assumed you were keeping guard instead of spacing out.
“What makes you so sure?” you ask absently.
He doesn’t answer as he crosses the room to a lower cabinet by a sink. The room fills with the sounds of gentle rummaging, clicks and fabric, until he stumbles upon a med kit. 
You swallow to coat your parched throat and lick your dry lips, keenly aware of every movement he makes.
He turns to you, kit in hand, and holds it out to you. You continue to stare, immobile.
“What do you want me to—”
“Hold it, idiot,” he snaps. “I can’t do everything.”
You liked him better when he barely spoke.
Snatching the kit from his hands, you let the fabric sit on your lap. His gray eyes map out quadrants of your face with diligent focus, noting a scratch here and bruise there with the hover of his hand, before getting to work.
You sit as well-behaved as you can manage while your attention switches between his hands and his face.
“I don't understand.”
You pause, expecting pushback. 
“Why are you doing this?”
A rude remark never comes beyond a tentative press of medical cloth to your forehead. 
“Helping anyone down here paints a target on your back, so why would you step in?”
Wordless, he presses a bandage to the spot where the skin broke.
“Levi.”
Sharply his attention rips down to you, and your breath halts.
So it is his name.
You’ve never said beyond your mind’s eyes, but it feels nice on your tongue. Like an answer to a question that was almost lost forever.
His arms remain raised, hands busy with pressing a lukewarm rag to the cut on your cheek.
Then he responds:
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” your murmur.
“Why?”
“Because it’s harder to help than to ignore.”
Something flickers in his dulled gaze.
“Kind of like giving bread to a strange kid, right?”
His rhetorical question knocks the wind right out of your lungs, flaring the pain in your bruised rib cage. Levi ducks his attention back to tending your wounds, discarding sullied rags to the nearby sink display after addressing each bloodied cut. 
Twelve years old with a selfless act.
Now you’re fifteen, soon to be sixteen, and he’s repaying the favor.
Neither instance ought to make any sense.
“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. “I’m not a saint for giving you food.”
Levi doesn’t react beyond a flare of his nostrils, but that could be attributed to a silent exhale.
“I could have killed you,” he says, dipping lower to hover slender fingers right where your arm clutches your ribs. “Broken?”
“Bruised.” Strands of hair fall into your face as you shake your head. “I’ve felt broken before.”
“Positive?”
“Yes.” His hand drops away from your torso and to his side. “And I was trying to kill you back then, too. It wasn’t our fault.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” he corrects simply.
“But you could have.”
His fingers pause for a fraction of a second. “Yeah. I could have.”
You barely nod. “I thought maybe something happened to you. I never saw you on the circuit again, so I thought—”
“That was the first and only time I fought in that nasty shit.”
Your brows furrow as his fingertips lift your chin. “...so you weren't sold into it?” He shakes his head. “I was your only fight?”
“Technically.”
“So then why were you—”
“Practice, in case I ever met someone who needed to kill me for quick cash.”
Someone yells cheers! from the other side of the wall where Roxy’s patrons gather for an early evening binge. Muffled laughter bubbles in the throats of strangers, causing your muscles to instinctually tense.
“That's a morbid reason,” you decide after a beat. “You were just a kid.”
“So were you, but for some reason you’re still in it.”
His words simmer with a hint of anger you can’t quite place. Levi drops his hands from your face, shoulders deflating in a rushed exhale.
“Good news: you look like shit, but you’re not in deep shit. I can’t do anything about your ribs, but your face should be fine. You have a bad habit of leaning into your hits.”
“Excuse me?” you blurt from the 180-degree turn of his assessment.
Levi doesn’t respond. His fingers draw the med kit off your lap, folding the fabric ever-so neatly in his hands — it’s more pristine than how it was left.
As his words fester in the air, your temper starts to get the best of you.
Your mirage is an asshole.
When he turns to the cabinet, you stand from the chair.
“What do you mean, I have a bad habit?”
“Did those shitheads make you hard of hearing, too?” he sarcastically bites.
“No, shithead," you mock right back. Although you’re grateful for his help, you’re not one to let someone walk all over you — Mother does it enough. “I don't lean into them."
Levi regards you from a side-eye stare. “Yes, you do.”
“What, so you’ve watched my fights?”
“I watch fights. Not just yours,” he corrects. “You're not special, so get your head out of your ass.”
“Oh fuck you, man.”
He hums, something like hmmph, but you could swear it’s paired with a smirk.
“Leaning into them makes an opponent feel like they have the upper hand,” you explain hotly. “Let them hit, then you strike.”
“It’s a shit strategy.”
“I’m smaller than a lot of my opponents.”
“So?"
“So? Coming out to a fight like you own the place puts a target on your back.”
“Did your Mom teach you that?”
Your nostrils flare. “Maybe she did, but your Dad sure as hell forgot to teach you manners.”
“He wasn’t my father.”
All of the heat gets sucked clear from the room as Levi’s icy statement cuts through it. The teenager finally faces you now, standing at his full height, and taps the cabinet door closed with the toe of his boot.
His expression has soured in contrast to his softening voice. You lift your chin in defiance in a show of bravery.
(Levi didn’t scare you back then. He doesn’t scare you now.)
“And you’re a better fighter than that. Making yourself look weak is a shitty strategy for someone who can't land a punch, let alone someone who can. You take the punches because you damn well know you're better than every opponent they match you with. If you didn’t play the theatrics, then those idiots would all be dead in minutes.”
As you bask in the whiplash of his insults switching to compliments, Levi walks across the room with his sights set only on you.
"I met you three years ago. I thought by now you would've found a way out."
Then he asks a question. Four words.
“Do you want out?”
When your eyes widen, he takes one more step closer. You don’t move away.
“If I had a way to get you out, would you take it?” he clarifies.
Your voice is hardly above a murmur. “...I don’t have a way out.”
“You do.”
“I don’t,” you snap, voice crackling. “I’ve tried. You know people in the circuits—”
“You have a way out."
“Levi—”
“James.”
The surprise is evident all over your face when Levi murmurs your name against his lips. It takes you completely out of your body, drowning in a dream that’s become reality.
There’s a dream where we run away together. You barely know me, but I tell you my name.
How long has he known the name Mother gave you?
“This isn’t a charity hand out. We need a fighter.”
“We?" you whisper sharply. "Who the hell is we?”
His jaw sets. “Furlan Church and myself.”
“Furlan fucking Church?” You sputter in disbelief. “That’s where you ended up after all this time, with that idiot?”
“If you stay in the circuits, then you will die,” Levi snaps, voice raised with deadly seriousness. “That bitch has been trying to put you in the ground for years. Do you really want her to win?”
His words should be a kindness you run towards.
But according to rumors, Furlan Church is an insufferable, big-headed thug. You’ve heard his name in passing among the youth for the last year or so now — he’s some gangster not much older than you in the midst of building a criminal empire.
Head in the clouds yet simultaneously in his ass, you’ve seen his very tiny crew rob a plethora of street brawl managers through the circuit.
And now Levi associates with him.
The boy with the bread at the pub found himself doing business with that stupid idiot, responsible for—
Responsible for challenging authority.
Responsible for running the show on swiping the seediest of trades in the Underground right from under the noses of corrupt MPs.
Responsible for mugging and attacking people in the middle of the night.
You stagger a step away from him and ask before you can talk yourself out of it.
“Wait — did you send those guys after me?”
Something indistinguishable flashes over his eyes — are you naïve enough to think it’s guilt?
“The three in the alleyway,” you continue. “They attacked me after the fight. It was really convenient of you to find me in the nick of time. So was that one of his initiation stunts?”
Finding you wasn’t a divine intervention of fate but a curated — calculated — test.
An audition to an Underground City gang that evidently Levi had leverage in.
Levi stares, unwilling to dispute your accusation.
“Dirty trick,” you spit, getting ready to turn the other way.
He steps a pace forward to stop you.
“We need muscle for our next heist,” he finally says. “You would get a cut. You would have a permanent place to sleep. You would have routine meals, day and night."
"I'd be selling myself for one contract to another," you growl.
"You're free to leave whenever you want," Levi tells you. "This doesn't work out in a week? Fine, then you can go. But if you do this, then you would never have to see that woman’s face again.”
“She’d find me,” you reassure in defeat.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he tells you with an unspoken promise. “You would be protected with me.” Then he corrects himself. "With us."
Your shoulders slump, too exhausted to fight him. "Levi..."
"You'll be paid."
"I don't give a shit about pay," you say, studying his eyes. "I have no money to my name as it is. Your... proposition just sounds too good to be true, that's all."
His brows knit in surprise. "What do you need to be convinced? We sent our three best brawn and you cleared them in minutes. You can see why we'd want you."
"And if I say no?" you hum, brow quirking expectantly. “Are you two going to keep sending people after me?”
“No,” Levi assures with utmost seriousness. “I'd let you live your life. This isn't an intimidation tactic. You would never hear from me again.”
There is hidden weight to that statement, whether you want to admit it or not. Not us, not Furlan — me. He doesn't correct himself this time.
Your eyes finally leave Levi’s face to watch the broken door.
That bitch has been trying to put you in the ground for years.
She has.
Do you really want her to win?
Not at all.
Do you want out?
More than anything.
You’ve wanted out since your first fight, but saying yes to his proposal means that you’re potentially stuck fighting worse.
Military Police, for one.
The gallows, another.
“James.”
You’ll never get tired of it — hearing a name you used to hate now flowing against his lips like cool water.
As if he’s waited to say it just as long as you’ve dreamt saying his.
Someone remembers you—
Sees you.
Just as you see him.
You speak before you can regret it.
“I’m in.” 
Levi’s expression shifts, brows softening. Surprise etches across his face.
You draw in a breath, slow and controlled, and memorize the look of surprise when you nod with determination.
“I’m in. I’ll go where you go.”
.
Tumblr media
author's note: your replies/reblogs/asks seriously are my lifeblood. chapter 13 is already written, i just have to do final edits, so it will be posted next friday am! thank you dearly for your encouragement and support. xo
tag list: @lazylizzy3 @notgoodforlife @sad-darksoul @dailydoseof-love @maliakealoha @nube55 @kateastrophies @blinkingsuns @gomigami @voidszoro @tanyeonn @chishiyasan @im-just-a-simp-le-whore
140 notes · View notes
acourtofsnakes · 2 years
Text
Candyfloss and Confessions | Steve Harrington x F!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You've been in love with Steve Harrington for years, like every cliche come to life. You've battled monsters, found friends within kids with superpowers, and you even managed to graduate. Yet the one thing you've never been able to do, is tell Steve how you feel. But maybe you don't need to wait any longer.
Warnings: Few minor spoilers for season 4 but nothing major, some mentions of food, fluffy fluffy fluff. Lil' bit of kissing.
Words: 4.8k
A/N: Just some lovely Steve in a fairground. PS: One blink and you miss it 'fix-'it' because we're pretending the s4 finale didn't end like it did 🥰
Permanent Tags: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal @starryeyedstories @ghostwiththemostbitch @gallowsjoker @kirsteng42 @rosiefridayrogersunday @salome-c @amywritesthings @meganlpie @sgt-morgan @kodakoalabear
Masterlist
Tumblr media
“There’s no way you’re getting me in there, Steve.”
“Seriously?? You’ve faced a bunch of face-eating monsters, and the end of the world, like… three times, but you won’t go in a mirror maze?” Steve raised a dark brow at you, his hands coming to his hips as he looked at you.
The fair was in full swing, the residents of Hawkins eagerly flocking to the attractions to forget the horrors that happened a few months back, when the ground split open and Hawkins was nearly swallowed whole.
Steve had shown up at your doorstep a couple hours ago, eyes bright and smile even brighter as he invited you to the fair with him.
You’d gone without hesitation, spending the time on rides, eating way too much sugar, and watching in giggly delight as he took down target after target in order to win you a prize.
You pursed your lips, crossing your arms but the grumpy act was diminished by the fact you had a large stuffed cow in your arms - and you couldn’t help the way your eyes glimmered whenever you looked at your best friend.
Because, as cliche as all those movies and books, you were in love with him.
Painfully so. And you had been ever since you met him in high school.
Yes.
You even loved him in his ‘King Steve’ era, because you always thought there was something else inside him, something softer and sweeter beneath the cocky, arrogant King of Hawkins High.
Then everything turned upside down, and he somehow pretty much adopted the kids, and his redemption began.
He turned from arrogant king to loving caregiver. He’d die for those kids, nearly did a few times protecting them and he’d grown so much.
You’d somehow been pulled into the madness, having been close to Steve and Nancy anyway. But you wouldn’t change it at all, despite the nightmares that sometimes creeped up, you were grateful for every single moment of this journey.
And somewhere between battling Demogorgons and patching Steve back up after his latest fight, you’d fallen for him.
Every single aspect of him. He just gave you a sense of peace and safety that no one else had before, especially with his sarcastic quips and his desire to protect his friends.
You’d patched him so many times after his fights, the way he threw himself into danger to protect the kids especially - and it pulled at your heart and made you adore him even more. He’d grown to be so selfless, so determined and it was beautiful.
When he told you about his dream? His summer trips with the six little nuggets?
Yeah, you just about passed out.
But you’d never once voiced it.
Initially because you wouldn’t dream of getting between whatever was still lingering between Steve and Nancy, even when she started dating Jonathan.
You were one of Steve’s best friends, you could see the look in his eyes when he saw them together, and even though it twisted in your heart, you’d never get between that.
But then things had shifted, and he no longer looked at her like that. Instead... He just looked pleased that she was happy.
Yet you still didn’t say anything.
The pair of you were close, so so close and you would never forgive yourself if you broke such a beautiful friendship.
Steve was still looking at you now, lips twitching as he tried not to smile, the colourful lights of the attractions dancing over his yellow sweater, “Hey, you still in there?” He waved a hand in front of your face, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.
You snapped from your daze, hugging your cow tighter, “There’s something completely unnatural about mirror mazes. They’re like… a different dimension. It’s creepy.” You planted your feet firmly in the grass, daring him to move you.
Steve blinked, brown eyes looking between yours and then he burst into soft laughter, “You’re kidding me!” He tipped his head back, lifting a hand to his chest and his hair tumbled over his forehead, “You’ve literally been to another dimension, babe.” He grinned at you, teasing but you could read in his eyes that he was playing, “You know I wouldn’t let you get snatched by mirror monsters, right?”
It was stupid how much that casual comment of him protecting you made you melt, because he’d been looking out for you, jumping in front of you for years.
Not to mention the nickname.
“Really? I know it’s stupid, but they’re just… They’re so creepy, you know? It looks like there should be a path in front of you and then you end up smashing your face with your own expression.” You pouted a little more, straightening the horns of your cow.
Steve brushed a thumb over his lips, peering up at you through his lashes and he said in a voice still dancing with laughter, “That’s happened to you before, hasn’t it?”
You looked up at him exasperatedly, “Yes. It has. We came here the other day, Dustin and Eddie wheedled me into taking them and the Party the day it opened.”  Your nose scrunched in memory of the sharp pain when you’d collided, “And I made them all swear that if they told anyone, I wouldn’t get them a Christmas present.”
He was still giggling under his breath, but then he stepped closer and slipped his arm around your shoulders, “I won’t make you go in there, baby, I promise. No mirrors or anything.” He nudged your body gently with his, his hand resting easily on your shoulder, like he had no idea what it did to you.
The butterflies that it released in your chest so strong, you were surprised you didn’t start hiccupping them.
You looked up at him, your arm just... naturally coming to loop around his torso because it was comfy.
Because it felt right.
It had always felt right to be this close to Steve.
He was walking you along the grass, weaving between laughing couples, excited kids and friends enjoying the treats on offer.
He paused you when you reached the line for the candy floss stall, his fingertips absently tapping your shoulder in time to one of the chiming musical tunes coming from the stall.
You took the time to shift your gaze back up to him, admiring the long swoop of his neck, the cut of his jaw to the chin that had casually rested on the top of your head so many times.
His lips that always curled into a smile around you, revealing his bright toothy grin.
His hair, that damn hair, was half tumbled over this forehead as a result of the last ride you’d been on and he’d seemingly given up trying to tame it, which was more than fine in your opinion.
Those lips curled up now and he turned dark honey eyes on you, the flashing lights reflected in the deep pools, “You’re staring at me.” His voice was kind of sing-songy, that teasing lilt that always made you laugh.
Shit.
You’d been caught. 
You opened your mouth, but instead of responding with an equally teasing quip, your brain decided to take a different route. “You’re gorgeous, that’s why.”
Steve blinked at you, surprise flickering in his face and then you realised your words.
Double shit.
You felt colour rush to your cheeks and you tried again, “I, uh, what I mean is…” What? What else did you mean? You couldn’t take the words back, because they were true.
Then some lights shifted, dancing across the pair of you and you saw that there was a brush of pink high ok his cheekbones, and his expression had softened in a way you’d seen a handful of times. “Thank you…” He said it softly, gently, like maybe he’d… Been waiting for them?
Not in a way that he expected but... Like now he’d heard them from your lips, they meant so much more.
But that was impossible, right?
~~
Steve Harrington was so stupidly in love with you, it almost hurt.
He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment his friendly adoration turned into heart-wrenching love. Maybe it always been that way, he’d just never known it any different.
Steve looked at you and he just… saw everything.
He saw lazy summer days, the sounds of your laughter and the sun beating overhead.
He saw music on cassette tapes and your feet up on his dash, wind in your hair.
He looked at you and felt your hand sliding into his, for comfort, for fun, to pull him to the arcade, Dustin’s curls bouncing ahead. Your finger linking with his when you faced down monster after monster.
You were always there for him, always ready to back him up or to tell him when he was being a dick.
You laughed with Robin over her tally board, teasing him with his jumbled-up words when he tried to flirt with a pretty girl.
Because the truth was that he wasn’t really all that interested. He flirted for the fun of it, to hide the fact he wished he could turn around and give every ounce of attention to you.
In all honesty, he did that anyway.
Back when he was still ‘King Steve’ his friends had always teased him. Joked and laughed that he didn’t only have Nancy hanging on his every word, he had you too.
It always made him feel… off. Guilty, almost. That he was acting the way he was, but he didn’t know any better.
Not until Nancy had smacked sense into him, not until he realised what he was and found who he wanted to be in you.
Because you deserved the very best, he could give you, and then some.
Not the selfish, arrogant asshole he was with his old friends, but the man he was becoming now.
Hell, it only took adopting six kids, and nearly dying a few times.
“Give the guy the tickets, dipshit.”
Your own voice broke him from his daydreams about you, and he blinked down at you as everything came back to focus. Somehow he’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even been aware that you’d left the candyfloss stall and made your way to the Ferris Wheel near the edge of the site.
His lips tasted like burnt sugar so he must have shared the sweets with you but… He had been way to caught in his thoughts. In you.
You were looking at him with raised eyebrows, eyes twinkling like sunlight off water, and you pointed to the man.
The increasingly fed-up looking man, hand extended waiting for the little batch of brightly coloured tickets that would allow you onto the Ferris Wheel.
“Oh right.” Steve fumbled in the back pocket of his jeans, producing the wad of them before handing the guy the correct amount, “Sorry, man.“
He merely hummed, punching a hole in them then lifting the rope to let you and Steve into the next part of the line.
You both made it all of ten feet before sweet, unabashed giggles spilled from your lips like honey, “Did you leave the planet for a minute there, Stevie? He was looking at you for ages.”
Your arm was looped though his, the way it always had been, and it made him feel like he was already untethered and floating above the floor.
He felt a flush begin to creep across his cheeks so he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he tugged you forward, the Ferris Wheel rising up before you, “Yeah, I was thinking about all the fun I could be having a mirror maze right about now.”
You trod on his foot, talking over his sputtering protests that you might make his trainers dirty, “I don’t know, that many reflections? That many chances for you to look at your hair?“ You puffed out your cheeks and let the air escape as you came to a stop, waiting for the next seat to come last, “I think you might have a nervous breakdown.“
Steve pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at you, but his retorts died when he set his gaze upon your face.
Your head was tilted up, watching as the carriage come lazily closer. Joy was written on every inch of your face, from the gleam in your eyes to the way the flashing lights danced across your cheekbones in swathes of lilac and blue, pink and green, all chasing each other across the surface of your skin like they were teasing him.
Steve wondered if your lips would taste like sugar too.
Then that expression brightened even more, and you excitedly tugged at his arm, “C’mon!!”
He let himself be pulled forward, stepping back as an attendant lifted the bar to allow you in first.
He slid in after, making sure you looked comfy before the bar came back down, “Okay?”
You carefully tucked your plushy cow on your lap underneath the bar, treasuring the toy he had valiantly won for you. You lifted your eyes to his, setting him soaring again and you nodded, “More than.”
Steve didn’t miss the way the attendant’s eyes met his with a knowing smile, “Keep your hands and feet inside and take care not to rock the carriage too much. You’ll reach the top and rest there for a minute or so before coming back round.” He checked the bar, dropping Steve a subtle wink, “Have fun.” Before slipping away again.
“Did he just wink at you?” You peered round him as the carriage shifted then began to slowly rise.
Steve made some kind of laugh that sounded far from casual and way too breathy to be calm, but whatever, “Maybe it was a nervous twitch.”
You shrugged, settling back in, feet tapping the lower bar as you watched the ground gradually come away.
He was already watching you, taking in every single thing he’d painstakingly learned over the years, the care and attention he’d tried to hide.
But hiding it every day was a battle he was slowly losing… And he wasn’t sure he wanted to fight anymore.
~~
The world was peaceful up here.
In truth, it wasn’t realistically that high, but the ground was far below, the music and noise seemed softer, and the stars were twinkling.
There was a bit of a stronger breeze, which meant the warm press of Steve’s arm against yours was more than welcomed, especially since you could probably fit a small child in the seat too but that hadn’t stopped him sliding up all close.
Your hands rested close to each other on the safety bar, and you couldn’t help but think you should be in a teen movie right now, with all the cliches but… you really didn’t care. You weren’t sure if you imagined it, but it maybe felt like there was something in the air.
And not monsters or screams, for once.
If you squinted across the treetops of the forest and cast your mind back, you could almost imagine the gloopy, disgusting bulk of the Mind Flayer tearing through the trees to chew into you.
And if you looked across the lights of the town, you could still remember the way the ground had split in pieces, how the earth had shaken both in this dimension and the Upside Down.
You could taste blood in the air and fear that maybe you hadn’t won after all.
You still dreamt of it, of them desolate, dying alternative version of Hawkins, of slithering tentacles in an abandoned house, of a swarm of rabid bats circling overhead, the screams of your friends and the crunch of bone.
A warm brush caressed your little finger, breaking you from your reverie.
You blinked, looking up and you saw Steve’s little finger resting on yours, “Hey, you okay?” His brown was slightly furrowed, chocolate eyes soft as they gently probed yours.
He must have read your expression, because his own softened more and he moved his hand across the bar to fully cover your own, “We made it, remember? All of us. We’re all okay… The town is rebuilding but we escaped him.”
You smiled a little at him, nodding even though the other half of your mind was now intently focused on the weight of his hand over your own, “I know… I know but I just think sometimes. How it all could have been different, how we could have lost someone... The town knows about the earthquake, of course it does but they still don’t know why.” You laughed, tipping your head back to the stars, “It still baffles me that a ragtag collection of kids, half of which are obsessed with DnD, have taken down monsters and Russians and a near apocalyptic disaster and we’ve survived it.”
Steve broke into a grin, bumping his shoulder with yours and then stayed there, his weight against you, “What are you trying to say? Do you forget I took on those guards in my damn Scoops uniform? That little necktie is a weapon in its own right.”
You snickered softly, your head tilting a little more toward him, “Oh definitely. Forget the Top Gun jacket you had last time, that Scoops uniform beats it all by a mile.”
He laughed again, shaking his head slightly and he slumped a little in the seat, “I hated it to start with. But then I have to admit, it did grow on me. Even if the hat did hide my best feature.”
Steve was even closer now, and without thinking really, you dipped your head to the side, letting it rest on his shoulder in a gesture that was oh so familiar, but still felt charged, “It’s not your only best feature, you know.” Your voice was softer, a confidence there because you weren’t sure you could hold back the years of love and adoration for him.
Not anymore.
Not after all you’d been through.
As soon as your head touched his shoulder, he melted, heart fluttering in his chest like bird wings and he shifted slightly to make it more comfortable for you, “Oh yeah? What else is my best feature then, bub?”
You still watched the view ahead, the streaks of cloud turned to midnight blue in the night sky, “Your smile and your laugh… The way your eyes light up when you’re happy, or when you’re proud of the kids.” The words wouldn’t stop now, “But not just physical things. It’s your personality too… Your dedication to the ones you love and how you’re always willing to jump in first - literally - in order to protect everyone else. You don’t even think, you just do it and I think that’s so beautiful.”
Steve was quiet.
Really quiet.
So quiet that it made your heart clench with fear, worried you’d somehow misread and crossed that line.
But then you heard him swallow, his hand flex over yours, “I spent so long living in this fantasy land, being King of everything. I had to be the best, to prove myself to everyone and to my dad.” He tensed, just slightly before his body softened again, “And all I did was push people away and hurt them. If Nancy hadn’t broken my heart, I wouldn’t have realised how stupid I was till it was too late.”
You said nothing, letting him speak because you sensed he wasn’t finished. But you did slide your other hand across, resting atop his in a little pile.
The wind blew gently as you brushed your thumb over his own, listening to his words above your head and rumbling beneath your ear.
“Because now… I have the kids, you know? And God only knows how they get into so much trouble, and even though it scares me that something might happen to them, and all this monster stuff freaks the shit out of me… I wouldn’t change it for the world.” His words were coming a little faster, tumbling from his lips like an offering, “And I wouldn’t have found you. This.” He swallowed again, “Us.”
Us?
Steve nodded, you felt it with the realisation you breathed that word aloud, “Yeah… Because you’ve helped me grow too, you know that? You’ve made me realise I can’t judge a person and a situation by what they first look like. If you and Dustin hadn’t been so insistent about Eddie, I don’t know if I would have come along, even now.”
He sighed, the action stirring your hair and he rested his cheek into it, “And, when I look at you, how you’re so determined, how you always try and see the good in things… I’m in awe. You’ve never given up, on anyone. On me, on the kids, on Eddie.” He waved his other hand to the general space, “This town. You fight for everything and everyone, all the time and I realised something, a while ago actually, if I’m being honest.”
Each of his words swum into your conscious in time with the beat of your heart and the pulse of those butterfly wings.
You were really hearing this.
He was really saying this.
Steve took a breath, his free hand coming in and warm fingers softly caressed your chin before grasping it gently, lifting your head so you faced him.
His eyes were near luminous, hair messy over his forehead, expression determined but soft and there was something shining in it, something that pressed against your chest with its intensity.
You swallowed, tongue running over your lip, mouth suddenly dry and you knew your expression matched his, knew your eyes shone with the fierce love you’d carried for years now. “What did you realise?” The words were a whisper on the wind, but he heard them.
He heard them and they were his undoing.
“I can’t lose you. I can’t lose that light inside you. I can’t lose the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, or the way you team up with Robin and Dustin and verbally beat the shit out of me.” His gaze dipped and lingered on your lips for a second before coming back to meet your own, grounding you, “I can’t lose the way you helped Max with her skating, or the kids with their DnD stuff. I can’t lose the way you get excited over Corroded Coffin, or how you light up when you talk about your dreams. I can’t lose how you make me want to chase my dream… Because you’re in it. You’ve always been in it, sweetheart.” He was quiet for a single moment, taking a breath that was uneven and that snapped you from your daze.
Because here he was, this beautiful boy who’d grown to a man, declaring the words you’d been reciprocating since you came into his orbit.
This beautiful, selfless, sweet soul, shining to match your own.
Words failed you, wouldn’t pass your lips but that’s okay. They would come later, whispered against each other’s skin as you held one another close.
But now… You knew what you wanted. What was right.
Beneath the shining moon, above the glittering lights and colours, you leaned in, tilting your head just before your lips brushed Steve’s.
He made the softest noise in the back of his throat, giving you a second if you wanted to change your mind.
When you didn’t, he pulled you closer with the fingers still cradling your jaw, slanting his head to better move his lips in sync with your own, drowning in you and you in him.
His lips tasted like candyfloss and ice cream, like summer nights and laughter and you were lost to him.
Snippets would come to you later, the slope of his jaw beneath your palm, the silky waves of his hair at your fingertips.
The way his fingers linked through yours on the bar, tightening even as lips remained soft and warm.
The awed laughter whispered against your mouth as he pulled away only when it became clear you were right near the bottom.
Steve’s cheeks were lightly flushed when the two of you parted, and you mirrored his giddy laugh, “I can’t lose you either, Steve.”
He hummed gently, brushing his thumb over your lower lip before bringing his head back to look between your eyes. “Kinda let it all go there, didn’t I?” He was grinning though, a goofy grin you’d never seen before and damn, if it didn’t make you love him even more.
You shrugged playfully, taking every inch of his expression in, like you could memorise this look forever, “Yeah but… You did it well.” it wasn’t until you giggled that you realised why he’d done this, why he’d made you tease and laugh.  
There was no fear anymore. No gut-wrenching worry that you’d break this thing between you.
Because it hadn’t.
That line was gone now, sure, but it had simply stretched and shifted. It was now an opportunity. A promise, pf something really quite beautiful.
You opened your mouth to say more, but the carriage suddenly ground to a halt and swayed beneath you, marked with the workers voice, “Alright, there you go. Watch your step.”
The bar had lifted, freeing you and Steve and you looked around in surprise when you saw the line waiting to get on.
You hadn’t even realised you’d been decending.
Steve hopped from the seat, landing nimbly on the ground before turning to you and holding out his hands with a flourish, “M’lady.”
You rolled your eyes gently with a laugh, handing him the cow first - earning an affectionate eye roll of your own - before slipping your hands in his.
He helped you jump down, even though you didn’t really need it but like hell was he going to stop treating you like a princess.
“Where to now?” You looked up at him as he returned the fluffy cow but kept his hand in yours, moving out of the way of the line.
Steve looked at you for a split second, before dropping his hands to your waist and spinning you off your feet.
You let out a laugh of surprise, grabbing his shoulders to hang on as the world twirled around you both, “Steve!!” you were beaming though, locked on him as an anchor as everything became a riot of colour.
He laughed, a real, gorgeous laugh that swirled through your head and made you a little doe eyed, “We have all night, baby. We can do whatever we want.” He lowered your body enough that he could press his lips to yours, laughter still on his tongue and a smile to match.
Two kisses already, and you had decided it wasn’t anywhere best enough. You needed more.
A lot more.
Your feet found the squishy ground again, and Steve’s smile turned wicked when he read the quite clear thoughts in your mind, “Later, babe. I promise.” He dropped you a wink, setting every single nerve on fire and your brain tried to race away with those images. His hand weaved through your own again, fingers linked and thumbs resting over each other.
“Come on. I think I can find you a treat to tide you over until you get this one.” He gestured to himself with his other hand before starting to guide you to the food stalls.
You blinked then started to laugh, again. “Oh wow, you think really quite highly of yourself, huh?” You bumped his side as you walked beside him, one half of your brain whispering over and over, “We kissed. We’re holding hands. We kissed!”
Steve pouted, sticking his tongue at you, “You can deny it all you want, sweetheart. I know you want me.” Then he gasped playfully, “Oh my god, it’s the Scoops uniform isn’t it. That’s what really gets you go- ow!!”
You raised a brow at him, dropping your hand from punching him and you gave him an angelic smile, “You were talking too much.”
He was really pouting now, “I cannot believe this. I declare my love to you, on top of a Ferris Wheel, and this is the thanks I get?” He shook his head mournfully, “Man, I got my work cut out, don’t I?”
Declared my love.
You nodded breathlessly, gazing across the food trucks for a treat, head spinning from how fast all your wishes had come to fruition, “Oh, yeah.  You better get your game on hard, Harrington.”
Steve grumbled under his breath as you pulled him to the line for waffles, nursing his arm even though you knew you hadn’t hurt him.
He was flying far too high for anything to hurt him right now.
Those words had spilled out, freed from their confines at the way your eyes mirrored the stars above, your joy outshone the rest of the fair - just like you outshone everything in his eyes.
He’d had to say it… And he was so damn glad he did.
“Hey, Steve?”
“Yes, my beautiful, sweet heartbreaker?”
“It is the Scoops uniform.”
“I knew it.”
680 notes · View notes
colourstreakgryffin · 9 months
Text
Angst ObaMitsu Scenario
*HOLY SHIT. THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS. THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS. ALL ANIMES-ONLY OR NON-COMPLETE MANGAS! PLEASE CLICK AWAY OR YOU’LL BE SPOILED*
Anyway. Re-read the ObaMitsu’s death panels and thought to myself. What would it be like if only one died, instead of both; So here is this very depressing scenario(s) I made up at 2am. I’m sorry, ObaMitsu fans.
Probably not the best thing to write as the first ObaMitsu post but whatever
Needed Warnings; mention of depression, mention of obsession, mention of seppkuku, mention of death, mention of mental health problems
Tumblr media
If only Mitsuri died
Obanai woke up almost two months ago and is recovering finely
But Mitsuri hasn’t. She still hasn’t woken up
Obanai sticks by her bed everyday. Just hoping that she’ll spring back up any minute
He forgets to look after himself. He can’t continue whilst knowing Mitsuri is still so vulnerable and hurt
Giyuu has to drag him out of the room and pin him down so the girls can check up on her
It doesn’t work. Obanai breaks in and pushes Aoi off Mitsuri as she attempts to put a blanket over her. He is a complete mess but he needs to know what’s going on
Aoi sighs weakly. “I… I’m so sorry, Iguro-san. Kanroji-san… has passed away…”
Passed away? No. No. No. She must be joking
“We believe she did last night” “No… she can’t be… you have to be wrong!” Aoi only lowers her head
Obanai breaks down into a hysterical anger-mixed-sorrow fit. He refuses to believe Aoi is right but deep down, knows she is
Why did he have to survive and not Mitsuri? Why does he always end up escaping death when he deserves it?
Why couldn’t have he been the one who died?!
Giyuu, Sanemi and Tanjiro have to drag Obanai out, once again but this time, kicking and screaming
Eventually. Obanai cries
And he cries his heart out. The first time he has ever experienced such emotion
He gave everything he had to Mitsuri. And now, she won’t be on this earth to enjoy life with him
What’s the point of living anymore? He couldn’t stop the death of a person he loves so dearly
There is only two reasons Obanai won’t commit seppuku. One, Kaburamaru is far too important to him and two, Mitsuri always tells him to push forward
Every night. His dreams only consist of Mitsuri. Meeting him in the beautiful Sakura tree pathway they promised to find each other again in and pushing forward that he doesn’t take his life
“Wait! Obanai! Don’t do that to yourself! Stay alive. Please. I need you to! I— …I hate this too but do it for me. Won’t you?”
Obanai returns to the Serpent Estate broken in all forms for good. Sure, life is now much safer with the eradicating of demons but it isn’t colourful without Mitsuri
His world is monochrome. His eyes are basically dead, his voice is dark and lifeless. He is depressed
Obanai takes Mitsuri’s belongings. Every single thing she owned. Her katana, her uniform, her favourite hairclips, the keys to her estate, her cats. The Love Estate will end up empty
He protects her belongings like his life depends on it
Obanai looks after Mitsuri’s cats as intently as he looks after Kaburamaru
Obanai makes Sakura Mochi in his spare time. He never liked it but for Mitsuri, he started pushing himself to liking it
Obanai visits Mitsuri’s grave daily to sit in front of it and eat the Mochi he made
He pretends Mitsuri is talking to him. He nods and responds to nothing. He claims he can hear her talking
Whilst he can’t see anymore, no thanks to the irreversible damage of his eyes, he sees Mitsuri all the time
He is growing mentally unwell, the more he keeps up this routine. He is getting a bit obsessed with keeping Mitsuri in his life
He snatched Mitsuri’s fixed haori from Aoi and wears it over his shoulders all the time
He likes to pretend that Mitsuri married him. So, he sometimes calls the imaginary Mitsuri he talks to “my wife”
Obanai is more aggressive and sour after Mitsuri’s death. He can’t see himself making connections ever again. He is barely hanging on
He’ll live the rest of his broken life completely alone. No new love or no new friend. Just him, Kaburamaru and Mitsuri’s grave
No woman can match Mitsuri. They’re all pathetic, he can’t stand another woman after he lost the woman of his dreams
If only Obanai could sense the way Mitsuri cuddles his side. Her spirit, clings to him everytime he sits at her grave
Obanai always leaves beautiful rose bouquets and bowls of Mitsuri’s favourite ramen at her grave. Their always gone when he returns the next day
Obanai truly isn’t alone. Mitsuri is always following him around and pressing kisses on his forehead every night
Obanai, truthfully, is trapped inbetween fantasy and reality. Inbetween acknowledging that Mitsuri has crossed the rainbow bridge but yet refusing to admit in favour of pretending Mitsuri is still alive
Obanai treasures all the letters Mitsuri wrote about him. Sure, he can’t read them on his own anymore(Kaburamaru reads them for him) and he ends up crying and crumbling onto the floor
All he wants is Mitsuri back
If only Obanai died
Mitsuri wakes up in a hospital bed. She survived? But. What about Obanai?
Obanai… he isn’t in the room with her. Where is he?
She desperately climbs her way out of bed and clings onto the walls to walk through the hallway. She is in so much pain but she needs to see him
Busting into the other hospital room, Mitsuri is shocked by the sight before her
The Butterfly Assistants and Aoi are surrounding Obanai, putting a blanket over his resting body
“No! Wait! Stop! What are you doing?!” Mitsuri stumbles over when running to the bed and her head bumps against Obanai’s shoulder
Her heart almost stops and her eyes widened in fear
His bare skin is cold. He didn’t make any noise nor move
“I’m… so sorry, Kanroji-san… Iguro-san has… has passed away… we believe he passed away last night…” Aoi remarks gently
Mitsuri cries instantly and screams. She can’t hold back as she grabs onto Obanai’s arms and shakes him
She doesn’t want to believe he’s dead. He must be alive! He has to be!
Mitsuri shakes him until she has to stop, out of the extreme pain. Her heart shatters into pieces as she crumbles onto the floor and cries hysterically. She cries out his name, begging for the heavens to bring him back to her
The man of her dreams… has left her for good
Mitsuri never gets over this. Never. No matter how old she gets
She becomes semi-lifeless. Her smile is no longer genuine. Her eyes are almost grey. She becomes depressed
Obanai kept her smiling. Mitsuri doesn’t see any reason to pretend to be happy. She doesn’t care about her missing arm, she doesn’t care about the other Hashira
All she cares about is how she lost Obanai
Mitsuri eventually found and swiped Obanai’s repaired haori from Aoi and brought it with her to her hospital bed
She sleeps with it
And when she is released from the Butterfly Estate and returns to her Estate. She takes care of it like it has her beating heart in it
Mitsuri wears Obanai’s haori everywhere and every second of every day. Mitsuri never takes off Obanai’s haori for longer than changing. She’ll die wearing it
Mitsuri got Kaburamaru. She may struggle with separating Kaburamaru from Obanai but she still loves the serpent and keeps him with her as much as possible
Mitsuri visits Obanai’s grave everyday. She eats in front of it, she talks to it
She likes to pretend that she is still talking to Obanai. It’s her coping mechanism
Breaking her illusion will make her break down so don’t. Let her get it out of her system
It is so unhealthy but Mitsuri can’t bring herself to let Obanai go. She needs to feed her fantasies to keep herself from slipping further into depression
Mitsuri, however, is unaware of how Obanai is still with her. In spirit, laying his head on her shoulder as she forces out a laugh at her own joke
Mitsuri will definitely live the rest of her damaged life with no new love. Not a single man in Japan can compare to Obanai
She considers seppuku. At one point, she just wants to be in heaven with him. But Obanai talks her out of it
“Mitsuri! Put that down! Don’t hurt yourself! It’s not worth it! I know, I know you’re in pain. Please, stay alive… for me”
Can’t say Mitsuri becomes obsessed with Obanai after his death but she keeps basically all of his belongings and protects them with everything she has. His katana, his uniform, the keys to his estate, all trinkets of Kaburamaru’s, his favourite kimonos
Mitsuri even changes her last name to Iguro. It’s her way of dedicating herself to her one true love
Living in a fantasy where she married Obanai, despite the fact he is now above in heaven. Forced to wait for Mitsuri to come to him
But everybody can clearly see that Mitsuri’s sanity is chipping. She is losing herself in her depression, her grief, her regret
She is stuck between her fantasy and reality. She speaks outloud to Obanai’s grave when she is with it like it’s a person, but when literally anywhere else, she is relatively normal
Mitsuri still cries as hard when she reads the long letter Obanai wrote for her before he died. His battlefield confession replaying in her head as she keeps reading the most important parts. The parts that cements his love for her
All she wants is Obanai back
Changed the pic cause it was annoying
Well. Fuck. This is very depressing, Jesus and #firsteverpostpostedwithoutsavingittodraftfirst
81 notes · View notes
Text
Fictober 2022: Gently.
Fandom: Twilight.
Prompt: “I don’t think this is your problem.”
Trope: A takes care of a wounded B.
Pairing: Rosalie Hale x Reader.
Warnings: mentions of blood.
A/N: just Rosalie being soft and sweet and madly in love you.
Tumblr media
Here was the worst part about loving a human: the danger.
You were constantly surrounded by it, such a delicate little thing, and it terrified her more then anything else. The best part of being a vampire, even if it had not been her choice, was the power. Once she had been turned, Rosalie had become invincible.
Nothing could hurt her. No one could touch her.
But as for you? The love of her life was a mortal, fragile glass in a world of sledgehammers and landmines.
Everything seemed so dangerous, so deadly, and the fears came rumbling back like a thunderstorm. She worried too much and too often, hovering over you at all times. And when when it drove you crazy (because sometimes it does), you reminded yourself of everything she had been through. If there was anyone who knew pain, it was Rosalie. And understanding this, you met her worry with love, allowing her to fuss.
But humans forget, so focused on the now that everything else just seems to fade away.
You’d been having dinner with Rosalie, your girlfriend insisted that she cook for you. It was a weekly tradition, Rose coming over to stay the night and you waiting with flowers, always flowers. She seemed to love that human part of your life, learning to cook all of your favorite recipes for you. The two of you would spend hours in the kitchen, music playing and laughter mixing together. She could spend hours like this with you, feeling normal for the first time in decades.
“Babe!”
Rosalie’s lips found your neck as she slipped behind you, stealing a quick kiss. The touch of her was cold and sweet, sighing as she sipped away.
Dinner was perfect, as always, you eating as Rosalie worked on her classwork. She was back in college, going for a forensics degree this time around. As you ate and she studied, chattering together until it was time to clean up.
“I was thinking about moving,” she suddenly said. “With you, of course.”
The two of you had talked about it before, moving away to some gloomy little town and making a home of your own. Rosalie wanted a sun room and a walk-in-wardrobe, you wanted a library. There would be a massive garage for her to tinker in and a sunny kitchen. It was a dream you’d been talking about since high school, falling into her life (literally, she had to catch you) just as Bella had fallen into Edward’s.
It had been a strange time for the family, that much was clear, and everything had been messy for so long...and when she left, well, neither of you liked to talk about that. Now that things had calmed once more, you’d been talking about it again.
“Are you okay with leaving your family?”
“I’ve left before,” Rosalie replied. “Sometimes I just need a break...and they understand that. I’ve lived without them before. Buying me a house and leaving me be for a few years is Carlisle’s way of saying he’s sorry.”
You smiled, thinking of it.
“I want built in bookshelves,” you mentioned. “and maybe a balcony.”
Rosalie hummed, pretending to think about it for a moment. Red lips twitched into a sweet smile, a touch of mischief to her as she stole a peck from your cheek. You were so warm against her skin, something she adored. It was one of her favorite parts of your humanity, she had once told you. The warmth of your skin and the beat of your heart. She savored it, dreading the day you were forced to be turned...but she dreaded your death more.
You would be turned, no matter how long she wished to avoid it.
But that was a conversation for another time. Tonight you were too happy to care about the future, chattering about all of the things you would have together: a rose garden, a canopy bed, a June wedding, and anything Rosalie could ever want. She stepped out for only a moment, to call Esme, leaving you alone to dream. So distracted by it all, you were not able to catch a glass as it slipped from your wet hands, the shattering resounding through the kitchen.
“Oh, damn,” you muttered.
Gingerly picking up the shards as Rosalie came back into the kitchen, moving so soundlessly that you did not hear her until she said your name. The shock made you jump, glass slicing into your palm as you cried out in pain.
“Y/N, let me see.”
“I don’t think this is your problem,” you said quickly. “I was just being clumsy.”
“Let me see,” Rosalie repeated, pulling you carefully towards the table. “I’m the one with the medical degree, it is most certainly my problem.”
Retrieving the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom, Rosalie carefully cleaned and bandaged the cut, declaring it to be a little bloody but nothing to be too worried about. Her touch was gentle, cool hands carefully wrapping the bandage over the wound. Rosalie was always like that with you...gentle. Sweet. Very few people ever saw this side of her, a softness lingering beneath the anger and sharp beauty.
“I’m sorry,” you said suddenly. “I know you want me to be careful. You worry.”
“I do,” Rosalie replied. “That’s a part of loving something that death can touch...you worry too much. And I feel that I’ve made too many mistakes with you already.”
You knew what she was talking about, the scar on your neck still burning. When they’d left...she hadn’t wanted to leave, but Rose had no choice in the matter. And she thought she was protecting you, never realizing that in her absence, a monster would come creeping in. Victoria had hunted both you and Bella and she’d nearly succeeded in killing you. Reaching out slowly, you pressed the bandaged hand to her cheek, Rosalie leaning into your touch with closed eyes.
“I’ll be careful,” you promised again. “Just for you.”
At that Rosalie finally smiled, leaning in to steal a kiss. Her lips met yours like ice met fire, melting into one another perfectly.
She insisted on finishing the dishes by herself, ordering you upstairs (it was the doctor’s orders, she decreed). Alone in the bedroom, you changed slowly, just barely hearing the music downstairs and her voice singing along softly.
It was not long until she joined you, finding you waiting in bed. The two of you made an odd pair, you in your over-sized Vote for Pedro tee and Rosalie in her nightdress, red and lacy. But you fit together perfectly nonetheless, Rosalie slipping into bed with you. She would listen to an audio book through the night as you slept, cuddling close to her.
“Rose?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I love you.”
She smiled, dark eyes flickering towards you. And suddenly she was moving, rolling over on top of you as you cried out in delight, her lips pressing a thousand kisses along your skin.
“I love you,” she gasped. “I love you, I love you!”
Her love lulled you to sleep, safe in her arms as you dreamed. And it would stay that way, Rosalie promised. She’d failed once but she never would again. There was no ignoring it, you would be turned and sooner rather then later. And Rosalie would spend all of your eternities protecting you, keeping you safe and sound...and loving you.
Tumblr media
248 notes · View notes
hiraeth-witch-11 · 11 months
Text
Single Glimpse of Relief
Aleksander Morozova x Healer!reader Drabble
Warnings: death, mentioned injuries, grief, burn out, war
Word count: 600ish
Tumblr media
Only twenty minutes to sleep
But you dream of some epiphany
Just one single glimpse of relief
To make some sense of what you’ve seen
Your knuckles are white as you grip the back of the wooden chair, listening to the news. Your patient had died while in recovery. The healer on call suspected it was a blood clot, something easy to miss especially when you were focusing on mending bone and keeping the patient from bleeding out. Still, you had been a healer for so long, you should have seen it, you should have known, you were supposed to be one of the best. How did you not catch it? You dismiss the messenger, keeping composure until the door clicks shut. Then you let the tears stream down your face. It had been a long day, a long week really, and you had been so busy. So much stress, so many broken bones, gunshot wounds, lacerations, even a couple amputations along with all the nobles of court requesting a healer for the smallest of injuries and ailments.  And of course you spent much of your down time listening to your fellow Grisha as you tried to help with wounds of the soul. You were so very drained and in this moment, you blame yourself for the loss of your patient.
You let out a scream of frustration and wrench the chair towards the wall. It hits with a thud and knocks a painting off the space next to it. You sit down on the floor and put your head between your knees as you sob. That’s where he finds you.
“Malyshka, what’s wrong?” Aleksandar asks in concern as he crouches down next to you.
“It’s my fault, it had to have been my fault,” you gasp without looking up. 
“I heard about your patient and I’m very sorry he didn’t make it, but the healers assured me that there was no way you could've seen it.” He places his hand on your back and rubs gentle circles.
“Maybe if I had been there instead of asleep, I could’ve done something. I could’ve healed him before it was too late.”
“Malyshka, baby, can you look at me, please?”
You lift your head slowly and turn to face him. He carefully cups your face in his hands. “This was not your fault. There was nothing to be done.”
You begin to voice your imagined protests, but he cuts you off. 
“Do you blame the healers watching when he passed? Would you have them forgo their sleep even to the same extremes you do?”
You shake your head.
“Then do not blame yourself, my love.”
You unfold yourself and allow him to pull you into his arms, tucking your face into his neck.
This knife’s edge the Grisha were balancing on was precarious. The Tsar would use all of you as barely more than cannon fodder. Aleksander was constantly fighting on and off the battlefield to protect your people. You worked night and day to reduce mortalities, often forgetting to eat until Aleksander ordered you out of the infirmary and back to his rooms where you weren’t allowed to leave until you had eaten and hydrated enough to satisfy him. You were one of the few people in the Second Army who slept less than him. Sometimes, he would find you half asleep at your desk or leaning against the wall in a hallway, occasionally flat out on the ground in your chambers because you’d fallen asleep before you could reach your bed. During these times, he would scoop you into his arms and take you back to his chambers where he would sleep with his arms wrapped around you so you wouldn’t sneak off back to work. He took care of you, and you him. Whenever he left Os Alta, you were right by his side. And you never wanted to leave it.
This is probably just a oneshot/drabble
@kayhi808
73 notes · View notes
btstaefigvs · 8 months
Text
Sweet Honey (18+)
summary: almost like a fever dream feel with jungkook, but luckily it is real
content warnings: sexual themes, detailed, use of word 'mommy' at the end
category: sub jungkook x reader
Tumblr media
___________________________________________________________
Sitting by the bench, admiring the soft pink petals that were above you. Fall ever so softly, to the rocky ground that your bare feet were resting on. Your palms were sweaty and clammy, constantly rubbing against your skin, as you picked at your painted nails, slowly chipping them away. One, two, three..and your nails , were cleared off from the ruby color of polish, revealing your hands to be bare. To say the least you were calm and collective, surprisingly. You usually come here to cry every now and then, or sometimes eat, watch the clouds move slowly, I mean it was your calm space. “Sunlight..oh my beautiful..carry all with your heart..sing a bit..and I will be fine..”, your voice pushed out of your throat, a small tune you always had when the sun was just setting down, illuminating with all its soft colors. Pink, like the cherry blossom trees, the orange representing the flowers nearby, ah you couldn’t get enough of the view, any day at all. 
“A-Are you sure..?”, his fingers grabbed the side of your skirt, and of course you always found it cute and cherishing. With a steady nod, his breath became heavier when he pulled your skirt all the way down to your ankles, taking at the sight that you were wearing nothing. Possibly you can’t deny you and him sneaking out on your lunch breaks when you got the chance and goodness, the amount of trouble we would get if we were ever caught. His name was Jeon Jungkook. Black hair, brown hazel eyes, round glasses, with his puffy rosy lips, puckering down on your flesh when he had the courage too. It was all fun, so endearing until he saw you but down naked, legs spread wide open, poor thing was overwhelmed that his face was turned into a hot pink bubble gum. 
“..J-Jungkook..”, you let out a small whisper into his ear, feeling how he was flicking your clit in a side to side motion, his big doe eyes staring at your facial expressions. With all you had cared for, he cherished every bit of you, from head to toe. And when I mean head to toe, I mean straight up treating everybody piece like it was created by the Greek gods. He first started with your hair, smelling your scent with a mixture of coconut and berries, coming down to your neck, his favorite spot to mark you. He started you nibbling as a soft play, but that's until you felt his boner rubbing against your hip. Next, it was your breasts. Oh, he adored them. He loved it when he saw you riding him and getting a hot view of your tits bouncing up and down. Sometimes he squeezes them every now and then and likes it some squishy, well, yeah, but still..
Can’t forget about sucking your nibbles, it was something he enjoyed. Seeing you all squirmed under him made him aroused and really you can’t even deny how hot it was when he mentioned those sweet yet lewd phrases. “..D-Does it feel good..mommy..?”, and how could you not go wrong with that?
42 notes · View notes
theminecraftbox · 10 months
Note
god yeah the horror and sadness of a pregnancy(in coparent where dreams feelings around it are messy and complicated) is really a heavy one. it's a thing Sam is excited for, the idea that they'll have a child together, but dream has to bear it all the time with not a minute away from the reminder of it. does he ever think about the things that might go wrong? he's not in the best shape after prison, his pregnancy couldnt have been easy. does he ever want to forget he is but can't because the baby kicks or it's too hard to move? does it ever feel like a parasite, something hes been forced to carry? are there moments in which he realizes the weight of what it *means* and it's just too overwhelming and terrifying to think about? i think it's been mentioned before that he cries when they find out he's pregnant. what else does dream feel? what's he experience
@cgogs
this is the damn ESSENCE of the nettle branch of coparent au and it's SICK, it's just SICK, and you should stay tuned for Angela's incoming fic which will make your stomach hurt so badly.
The pregnancy is a refuge and it is a mask: it's something that will protect him from Sam, right? something that Sam wants from him, something that Sam wants him for. But they're supposed to be past that, by now. Sam doesn't want to hurt him anymore. Sam wants to help him, treat him kindly, right? So why is the fear still here?
Dream's on a diet. A good diet this time, Sam's making sure he's eating enough and more, that's the point, he needs to be healthy, gain some weight. He has a craving and Sam will get it at once. Dream wants something off a high shelf, Sam will fetch it. Dream wants to go out for a run, Sam will come with him. There is nothing that Sam won't do to help. There is nothing that Dream can do on his own. Dream's ability to survive on nothing, with nothing, less than nothing, is being stripped away.
Why does he live in terror of the thing inside him dying, why does that feel like he'd be losing the last shield he has? It's stripped away his other defenses, it's the only thing left to keep him safe, everyone will know, everyone will see his weakness, how will he run like this? What if they get him like this, if they hold him down and pull out the knives and he won't be able to do anything about it...
Why does it feel like something he hasn't chosen, even though he did choose it? And there's Briar to consider, Briar who Dream has left behind (he didn't mean to, didn't want to, he and Sam do not talk about it.)
Sometimes Sam kisses his stomach and it’s sweet, kind, loving, nothing wrong about it. It's a totally normal thing to do for your spouse who’s carrying your child. Dream thinks perhaps he’s never felt so dehumanized.
59 notes · View notes