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ceesimz · 4 days

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We're All We Need Today

Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff. It's been a while since I last posted and I find myself riddled with nerves about posting stories again now, so (and I never do this because I cringe at myself) if you do like this story, please let me know in whatever way suits you because I'm seriously struggling with writer's anxiety right now and I don't have the foggiest idea how to get out of it😅

It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.

Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.

"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.

"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"

"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.

She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'

"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."

Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?

This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.

This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.

"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"

"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.

"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.

"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.

"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.

"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."

You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.

Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?

What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.

No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.

Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.

There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.

For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.

And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.

Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.

Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.

And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.

There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.

"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"

As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.

"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"

At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.

"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.

"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.

"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."

"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.

"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."

You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.

Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.

You were only human after all.

"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."

Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.

You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.

"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.

"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.

"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."

With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.

You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.

Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.

Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.

"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"

"Yep, just get it done with. Please."

You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.

"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"

Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?

"Yeah, it's fine."

The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.

The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.

"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.

"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.

"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."

You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.

"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"

"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.

"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."

And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.

You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.

"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."

"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.

"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."

Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.

"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.

"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.

"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.

"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"

That one took your breath a little.

"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.

"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"

"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."

Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.

It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.

"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.

"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."

Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.

"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.

Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.

"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."

"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.

"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.

It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.

Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.

"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."

That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.

No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.

"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."

Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.

There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.

"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.

"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.

"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.

"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."

"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."

"I will talk to her. Don't worry."

You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.

The only thing you could do now, was wait.

That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.

Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.

So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.

"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.

Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...

"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.

Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.

Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.

"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.

"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.

She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.

A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.

"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."

Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.

"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."

Hm, not too bad of a start.

"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.

"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."

With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.

"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."

Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.

"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.

"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."

"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.

"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."

She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.

"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."

Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.

"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."

A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.

"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.

"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"

Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.

"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.

Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.

"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.

"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.

"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.

The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.

But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.

"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.

"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.

In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.

You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.

"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.

"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.

"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."

You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.

"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.

"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"

"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.

"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.

She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.

"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"

It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.

But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.

"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."

Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.

"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."

Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.

"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.

"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"

It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.

"We'll be okay, Ale."

Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.

Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.

She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.

That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.

"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.

"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.

"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."

"What's that?" You hummed.

"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.

That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.

"Thank god for who?"

"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."

"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."

With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.

"She really got through to you, then?"

"Oh yeah, absolutely. She beat my ass."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso community #mariona caldentey #woso one shot #alexia putellas #woso imagine #alexia putellas one shot

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gottagobuycheese · 3 months

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HEY! YOU!

You've probably heard by now, but from March 4th to 10th 2024, Help Gaza Children will be sending all their donations to families in northern Gaza, where food prices have skyrocketed even more than in the south. Their goal is $25K by the end of the week; at the time of writing this post, it's about halfway a quarter way there! (OG post about it) [EDIT: my mistake, I misinterpreted the numbers in the original post; evidently I cannot do arithmetic anymore]

This is their notion site, which has their donation link as well as additional info, their FAQ, important updates, and proof of purchases from donations they’ve gotten in the past. You can also donate directly to their paypal here.

As such, I'll be open for sketch commissions up from now (March 7th, 2024 ~02:20 PST) through March 10th in exchange for proof of donation to Help Gaza Children!

BASIC OVERVIEW:

Tier 1 - Basic head/bust sketch for $1-5 USD, +50% for basic color. Up to 3 characters.

Tier 2 - Basic screencap resketch for $5-15 USD, +50% for basic color.

Tier 3 - Posed sketch for $15-25 USD, 1-2 characters ONLY.

Tier 4 - Colored clean sketch: $25+ USD, 1-2 characters ONLY.

RULES:

Please provide a visual reference or detailed description of the character(s) you want drawn (and depending on the tier, a screencap or pose/expression you want to go with it)

DO'S: OCs, humans and human-like creatures, other creatures that don't have a lot of mechanical or anatomical detail (as in, I can TRY to do mecha stuff, but I think you and I will both be better of if I don't lol; can ask for further details)

DON'T'S: any NSFW stuff, real people currently alive (as in, historical figures in the setting of historical fiction may be okay, but other things may not be; can ask for further details)

If you've made your donation in a currency that is not USD, I'll give you something of equivalent value according to the tier based on whatever the conversion is at the time that I look it up. If one or both of our economies crashes spectacularly in between the time you send it and the time I look it up, I'm very sorry in advance

DISCLAIMER 1: I reserve the right to decline a commission for any reason; however, if this ends up being the case, I may reach out to you to see if we can come up with a middle ground that suits us both.

DISCLAIMER 2: I don't anticipate being able to do a lot of these, as I've got a full-time job that's in the ballpark ~80+ hours a week with really weird hours. That being said, depending on how far this goes, turnaround time will probably be ~2-3 months, give or take...something. I'll update you monthly until it's done.

FOR PERSONAL, NON-COMMERCIAL USE ONLY!

If you're interested in nabbing a sketch from me in exchange for your donation, email a screenshot (devoid of any personal info please) of your donation receipt and details of your sketch request (e.g. reference, tier, etc.) to [email protected]. For your donation to count for a sketch, it must be made after I wrote this post! (March 7, 2024 ~02:20 A.M. PST)

If you are NOT interested in nabbing a sketch from me, feel free to donate anyway!!

(And if you've got any questions about anything feel free to email, DM, or send an ask!)

#palestine #gaza #helpgazachildren #orv #undertale #commissions #donations #if this inspires even one extra person to donate that wouldn't otherwise have known about it I'll consider that a win #anyways I don't really expect this to go very far outside my circle if at all #so I'd appreciate some help in spreading the word #especially about the main fundraiser #these drawings are really secondary to the whole thing #but if you want to donate AND help a sad partially-art-blocked artist get unblocked! here is your opportunity!#if this goes somewhere I might do it again with other links #otherwise I'll just keep donating privately

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hazbinhotelie · 1 month

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“Alastor!” I yelled, slamming the door to his room open.

“My dear,” he said casually, with a small smile. “It’s lovely to see you. What’s got you in such a huff?”

“Don’t play games with me,” I said, marching right up to him. “You know exactly what you did.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a clue,” he said, smiling wider. His ear twitched. “You’ll have to specify, darling.”

“You- fuck! You put three dead deer in my fucking bedroom you asshole!”

He chuckled to himself. “Ah, that,” he said lightly. “Yes, I thought you might appreciate a nice meal. I noticed you’d been skipping dinner and figured you’d be hungry.”

“And you put rotting deer in my room, as if I’d eat it,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“I personally find the taste to be quite good,” he said, matter of fact. He narrowed his eyes at me. “I wouldn’t have done it if you’d just shown up to mealtimes like everyone else. Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t enjoy my cooking.”

“I don’t mind your cooking,” I said, crossing my arms. “I was avoiding you.”

“Oh, and whatever did I do to deserve that?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. He rose from his seat and started circling around me. “I feel I’ve been awfully kind to you, despite your attitude. Have I not?”

“The constant game of hot and cold, threats, and insults don’t really send that message,” I grumbled, watching him warily. “I’m tired of it. I don’t want to be made fun of in front of the others and I don’t want to be afraid of being in the same room as you. I don’t want to be afraid that you’ll announce to everyone the deal we made, I don’t want to be afraid that you’ll use it against me in front of the others.”

“Oh? You’re afraid of me?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know. “You’re afraid of this?” In an instant, green chains wrapped around me tight. He held the end and gently tugged me near him. “Hm? You’re afraid of someone little chains?”

“You’re the Radio Demon, an Overlord of Hell, and you own my soul,” I said, quieter. “Of course I’m afraid of you.”

He tutted me lightly. “Now, that just won’t do,” he said. His smile turned more malevolent as he pulled on the chain- harsher this time- forcing me right up against him. He cupped my face with one hand, and held the chain in the other. “Smile, my dear. I won’t hurt you.”

“Everything you’re doing right now says otherwise,” I said, my voice strained.

He raked his claws across my cheek, slowly, only making shallow cuts. “I wouldn’t hurt you in a way that matters,” he said, correcting himself. He wiped the blood away and licked it off his fingers. Then, he went back and started again, this time going down my neck, too.

“It matters to me,” I mumbled, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“Mm,” he paused, and seemed to think for a moment. “Don’t cry,” he said, softer. He wiped away my tears- the few that had slipped down my face- then hummed to himself. He traced little shapes across my face, with my blood. “You look wonderful like this, darling,” he said quietly.

“Please,” I said, the word coming out like a small whine. I couldn’t handle him being gentle with me, not when I knew his anger and wrath all too well. I couldn’t handle how quick he could switch things up like this.

He didn’t say anything in response, he just continued to hum and trace little shapes. When he was done, he tapped my nose. I felt an odd sort of sensation flow through me, then the pain from the cuts faded away. I opened my eyes and glanced at a mirror he had on his wall. The scratches were gone, and so was the blood. The chains were still there.

“All better now,” Alastor said, sounding pleased with himself. He patted my head lightly and smiled wide. “There! Now everything’s good again, right? I fixed it.”

I looked at him, confused. Still hurt- not physically, but god, he was so much to handle. “Al..” I couldn’t even form the words. I was tired. I’d not been sleeping because I couldn’t without the radio he’d given me- and I’d taken it out of my room a few days ago because I’d been upset with him. I hadn’t slept since, and I’d been skipping meals to avoid him, too. I was utterly exhausted.

“My dear, is something wrong? Did I miss anything?” He asked, pulling me back towards him. He wrapped an arm around my waist, still holding the chain in that hand, and placed his other hand under my chin, making me look up at him. “Hmm.. you seem more tired than I’d thought. I’ve taken quite the toll on you, haven’t I?” He chuckled to himself.

I couldn’t even bring myself to respond. I was caught up in the familiar sound of radio static that accompanied him everywhere, and that mixed with the sound of his voice was just like listening to his radio show before bed. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch a bit, something was making my anger and frustration melt away. Maybe I was just that tired. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Alastors eyes were green rather than their usual red when I closed my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to care if he was using his magic on me.

“Relax, darling,” he said, moving me around. He pulled me up with the chains, so my back against his chest and my head was leaning on his shoulder. I didn’t resist. There was such a nice pattern to the sound of the static and how it matched the rhythm of whatever he was muttering under his breath. I tried to open my eyes to see him again, to see if his eyes were green, but he covered my eyes with his hand before I could. “Come now, that’s not important anymore. You need rest.”

He kept me against him and snapped his fingers- he’d gotten rid of the chains- and in a moment, we were in my room. I could tell due to the distinct smell of deer carcass. He probably used his little shadow-teleportation trick. He paused his muttering for a moment and moved to let go of me. I nearly collapsed, relaxed to the point my legs felt like jelly. He quickly caught me, sighed, then chuckled and set me down in a chair. He left me there and a little later (after some very loud sounds of ripping and tearing apart flesh and a certain sense of unease that only arose when Alastor was in his demon form) the smell of dead deer was gone.

“Hmm… I suppose you were right, it wasn’t the best food I could’ve given you,” he said, pulling me up and out of my seat again. “It was rude of me to leave it here on the floor, too. I really should remember my manners next time.” He carried me to my bed and set me down in his lap.

“Mmnn,” I mumbled lightly.

He laughed and used his fingers to turn my lips upwards, into a smile. “You’re so much more peaceful than before! I take it you’re enjoying my little spell?” He let go, but a small smile remained on my face. “My, my, you really are tired. Such a relaxed and happy little thing, aren’t you?”

He shifted his position, as if leaning over to my nightstand. I heard him sigh, then snap his finger again. A few moments later, the radio- my radio- was playing some tunes. He’d brought it back in for me.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t get rid of my gifts, you know,” he said, quieter. He ran his fingers through my hair as I grew more and more tired and closer to sleep. “I know you need the radio to rest, it’s apart of our contract. To ensure your dependency on me. You remember, don’t you?”

“Mhm..” I said, hardly audible.

“Good. Don’t forget you need me,” he said, a bit more stern. “I may be rude and I may hurt you, but at the end of the day I’ll protect you all the same. Nobody else is allowed to hurt you, so I’d say it’s a fair trade. It’s moments like these that make up for my own nasty behavior, I think.”

I didn’t reply, I just tried to hum along to the radio. I was nodding off, leaning against him as I sat in his lap, my head against his chest. He laughed at this and hummed along with me, still running his fingers through my hair. I began to trail off in my own humming and my breathing slowed. Finally, I dozed off.

“I like this,” Alastor said to himself. He stayed with me espite the fact I was asleep. “I like seeing you so peaceful, knowing I’m the reason behind it. I like spending time with you. It’s why I was so frustrated when you began skipping meals, you know. I wish we had moments like these more often.” He paused for a moment, and ran his fingers along my face. “I’m sorry, for hurting you earlier. I don’t think you deserved it.” He sighed and held me close to him. “I like this,” he said again. “I like this.”

#alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader

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thornsnvultures · 11 months

Text

everything I want...

bucky barnes x plus size!avenger!reader

summary: being sent on a mission with bucky should be a piece of cake, but he's been acting strange around you for weeks now and you have no clue why.

cw: SMUT, fingering, oral sex (fem rec), shower sex, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, breath play, breeding kink, pregnancy/lactation kink (very little), possessive pervy bucky (he gets a bit feral in this one), solo masturbation mention (m), steve rogers meddling being a great wingman, angst with a happy ending, 4.4k words

a/n: my entry for the lovely @nickfowlerrr 's seven deadly sins event 🖤 Lust is the sin I chose for this fic and really it was an excuse to write filth lol I really hope you enjoy it! (and a quick thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep going, this fic wouldn't be here without you)

18+ MINORS DNI

-----

"You'll be with Barnes for this mission. Get in, get out, no big deal. We've done this before and it doesn't look like it'll be much of a problem."

Steve smiles politely at you as he hands you the briefing folder with all the info on where you'll be going and why.

"If it's so easy why doesn't Barnes go alone?"

You regret opening your mouth as soon as the words come out, choosing to bite your lip and open the folder instead of looking at Steve's patented Look of Disapproval.

"Be ready and on the jet in two hours," Steve sighs.

"Yes, Captain."

Steve marches out of the room, always moving like a man on a mission even when he's not on one. No, this one's just you and Bucky. The man who's been avoiding you like the plague the last few weeks. Someone who you thought was at least a friendly acquaintance, a close colleague maybe.

He went from joking with you on the jet and bringing you coffee when he got one for himself from the canteen, to not even looking at you. Like even daring to lift his head when you walked by would get him booted from the team and sent back to Hydra.

You wouldn't say the two of you were close, but being a part of this team, working with these people; it was hard making friends with people who didn't understand, who didn't live on the compound. Sure there were SHIELD agents you saw here and there at the gym or around medical or the offices. But you saw Bucky damn near every day since you joined the team. And now out of the blue he was pretending like you didn't exist.

It didn't help that you had a not so teeny tiny crush on the man either.

Maybe this mission was a peace offering, Steve's way of getting the two of you to rebuild, reconnect. For the betterment of the team...or whatever. The sooner you got it done, the sooner you could get home and get away; from Bucky and from your own hurt feelings.

-----

Steve was right, the mission didn't take long at all. You were able to get in and get out with the information you needed with little to no fuss. Barnes was the perfect partner to watch your six with the way he was avoiding you and it totally didn't bother you that he hadn't said a word to you outside of what was strictly necessary. Totally.

When you got back to the hotel, Bucky got on the phone with Steve right away, still avoiding. He did need to call Steve to debrief, but he wasn't even saying much, just standing there with the phone to his ear, grunting every now and then.

Frustrated, you sat on the edge of the bed and pulled of your boots. Bucky was facing the window, looking over the city. The hotel room was modest, but modest for Tony Stark's standards was still luxurious and you wanted to take advantage of the shower that was practically the size of your bedroom back home before you guys left. You weren't waiting for Bucky to shower first.

"I'm taking a shower," you called out. Bucky made a noise but didn't turn around. His back muscles shifted against the tight black tshirt he wore when he shrugged at something Steve must've said over the phone. You couldn't hear what they were discussing but you could sense Bucky's tension from across the room. From the way he looked you'd think the mission was a failure, that he was reporting back with terrible news even though you know everything went well. Your fingers itched to rub soothing circles over his back, ease some of that tension away...

Shower, think of the shower. He doesn't deserve it.

Once you figured out which knobs controlled which of the four differently angled shower heads, you hopped in. Your clothes lay discarded on the sink as steam filled the room. It was heavenly. You'd have to ask Tony about installing a system like this in your apartment.

As you soaped up with the hotel body wash, your mind started to wander to the same person it always seemed to these days.

Part of why Bucky's sudden rejection was so painful was how much you'd grown to care about him. It felt silly, having a crush like this at your grown ass age, but that's what it was. Your stomach fluttering, your heart racing. You hoped he didn't know just how much he affected you every time he brought you coffee or talked to you or sat near you in a meeting.

Maybe that's why he's been avoiding you, maybe he caught on and...he doesn't feel the same way. Maybe he's trying to put distance between the two of you so you'd get the hint.

God, how embarrassing. You stand there with your hands on your chest, over your breaking heart, and try to hold it together instead of blabbering like a baby.

Of course he doesn't want you. He's a super soldier, practically a God. And he's been through so much. He's not the type to want a...girlfriend right now, especially someone on the team.

Suds drip from your breasts as you try to finish your shower, bending over to scrub your feet while you try not to cry. It's silly, silly and stupid. But you were hoping that even if he didn't like you that way, that you wouldn't lose a friend too.

The thought of him never speaking to you again makes a tear finally fight its way free and you choke out a sob as it falls down your cheek. You hope the pounding water is enough to mask your choking sobs but who knows. Your emotions are all over the place. You can't seem to stop crying and you're angry. Angry at Steve for putting you on this mission, angry at your tears and angry that Bucky might be totally lost to you.

-----

Bucky can smell you.

He stands by the hotel window, holding the bridge of his nose like that'll make it stop. It never does. You're always there, invading his senses. Not just your body wash or the shampoo you use, or the heavy floral stuff the hotel has stocked up in the bathroom. He's trying not to imagine you using the individually wrapped bars of soap to lather yourself up not twenty feet away from him, but just like his hand on his nose, nothing helps.

No, even under all the artificial stuff, it's you that drives his senses wild. Something encoded in your goddamn DNA that fries his brain.

It took him a while to figure out what it was that made it hard to be around you. He could ignore it at first, when you first joined the team. He was still fresh himself, finally coming back to be a do-gooder with Steve and the team after talking time to heal and scrape away what was left of Hydra's programming. There wasn't time to acknowledge the way his dick twitched every time you entered the room. It wasn't appropriate. And Steve would kick his ass for chatting up the newcomer anyway.

But as the weeks and months drew on, as he found himself getting more comfortable, more used to a routine that always seemed to revolve around you, he couldn't ignore it.

He felt like a dog in heat. Most of the time he could manage it, but there were days out of every month where he'd scramble for the nearest bathroom, broom closet, empty meeting room, anything after being with you for even five minutes so he could relieve himself. Biting his lip until he bled to keep from cursing your name as he worked his fist over his cock until there was nothing left.

It was maddening, the shift in your scent. He craved you constantly, but those times when his needs couldn't be ignored he felt out of control. Like he was a snap of your fingers away from becoming him again.

It wasn't until you left your phone unattended in the compound gym that things started to make sense.

You had been chatting on the treadmill with a SHIELD agent. Bucky pretended to be focused on his workout while he listened in to your conversation. Your agent friend was talking about her and her partner trying for a baby so you recommended a period tracker app that you had been using for a while.

"It's great! After you've been using it for a few months it can predict when you'll be ovulating for max baby making potential."

Your friend laughed at the saucy tone in your voice, Bucky nearly dropped the massive dumbell he was curling on his foot. Images of you, breasts heavy and leaking, swollen and pregnant with his child was all he could see. And fuck him, he wanted it, needed it, craved it.

So when your friend was gone and you hopped off the treadmill momentarily in search of your water bottle, leaving your phone behind, Bucky took his chance to sneak a quick look.

It was all right there. He remembers the last day he could smell you so strongly he could barely stand it. He almost got caught in the gym showers, slamming a crack into the tile wall when he came so hard his vision went black with the scent of you burned in his brain. He didn't see you for two days after that but when he did there was a coppery edge to your scent. And the app on your phone proved it.

You were ovulating. Your body was practically screaming for him, demanding that he do what he was made to do and breed your sweet cunt. His need to rut into you, to bury himself deep and pump you full of his cum over and over, no matter how long it took until it sticks, finally made sense.

Bucky already knew he cared for you, but he didn't want to scare you, overwhelm you. He wanted to do right by you, take you on dates, show you how special you are to him. But this feral need to claim you wasn't stopping any time soon either. Maybe, he thought, he should give you some space. Give whatever this feeling was done distance and it would calm down. Then...then he could tell you how he felt. He needed to clear your scent from his mind before he was trapped in a constant state of relieving himself by his own hand month after month, wasting what belonged to you in tissues and shower drains.

-----

So he stayed away, for an entire month at that, before Steve got sick of his shit excuses and put the two of you on this mission together.

"Whatever's going on with you two, you need to work it out. We're not in forth grade any more, Buck, you can't pretend a girl has cooties just cause you feel weird about liking her."

Bucky tensed as he heard her boots fall to the floor behind him.

"I don't-"

"Don't bullshit me, Bucky."

"Language," Bucky's lip quirked, almost a smile.

"I'm taking a shower," you called from the other side of the room. Bucky grunted, not trusting himself to say anything more. He could feel your eyes on him.

"Just talk to her. I know what you're gonna say, she deserves better than a jerk like you. But she doesn't deserve the cold shoulder."

Bucky shrugged, forgetting that Steve couldn't see him. He heard the bathroom door click shut and his forehead dropped against the window.

"You don't get it, Steve. She's different. I can't control myself around her. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

Steve sighs and says something else but Bucky barely hears it over the sound of running water and your clothes hitting the floor.

"Bucky, you there?"

Shit.

"Sorry, I should...I gotta go."

"She likes you too, idiot." A part of him knew but hearing it out loud felt surreal. "I got the same senses you do. Better even," Bucky shakes his head at Steve's teasing, "I can hear her pulse pick up when she looks at you, how her breathing changes. How she sits close to you, touches you whenever she can."

Bucky shivers thinking of your hands on him, pulling him into your shower with you, letting him get close enough to touch you the way he's dying to touch you.

"And you know I can smell how wet she gets when y-"

"Watch it, Rogers," Bucky snaps with a growl in his throat.

"Then get your shit together, Barnes! She wants you too, you're not gonna scare her off."

Bucky wants to tell Steve he doesn't have any idea what he's talking about when he hears what sounds like crying coming from the bathroom.

"Alright, if you're done playing matchmaker I gotta go."

Bucky hangs up before Steve can say another word and tosses his phone on the bed. Before he can think better of it his boots are off and he's pulling his shirt up and over his head. His heart is being torn to shreds with every sob that shudders through thin walls and he has the sinking feeling that it's all his fault.

-----

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but you feel the rush of cool air hitting your back. Before you can wipe away your tears and yell at Bucky for coming in before you were finished, he's right there. His hands grip your waist and turn you around.

"Bucky.

"Shh, I've got you."

He pulls you in, crushing you to his bare chest in a fierce hug. You don't know what's happening or why but he's here. Finally he's here and you're not gonna do a thing to stop it.

Your face is still wet with tears when he kisses you, consumes you, more like. His lips, teeth, tongue invading your mouth and begging you to open up and let him take all of you. You're shaking when he lets you go long enough to breathe, but his hands don't let you go, only wrapping around tighter and lifting you up against his broad chest when he feels your legs go weak.

It's everything you've every dreamed of, there's no way it's real. He's naked for fuck's sake. You can see his discarded jeans on the floor by the door, feel the evidence of his nudity pressing long and thick against your thigh.

His lips work down the length of your neck, down your chest, to suck a puckered, soapy nipple into his mouth. He's looking up at you with those murky blue eyes and your mind goes blank. You don't care why he chose now of all times to see you, to touch you, as long as he doesn't stop, as long as he keeps sucking and licking and biting you just like that. And you really must've hit your head because, fuck, you're already this close to coming and that's never happened before.

Your thighs press together, searching for any kind of friction, as you tug on Bucky's hair. When you pull, his eyes roll back. He groans, the noise shooting straight to your pussy.

Still holding you up with one hand, Bucky bullies your thighs apart with the other, spreading you open and on your tip toes so he can slide his fingers over your cunt. Two thick digits slip between your folds and shove into your cunt. You gasp, writhing around his fingers. It's too much, you feel so fucking full you can barely stand it. But Bucky keeps working his fingers, scissoring them, spreading them deep as he pumps them in and out. Your nails scrape against his skin, scrambling across his broad shoulders to find purchase as he brings you careening fast over the edge until you're plummeting, screaming his name as you spasm around his fingers.

He pulls his fingers away and you watch, dazed and panting as he sucks them clean. The way he moans around his fingers nearly has you coming again.

"Bucky, please," you don't know what you're asking for but you don't care. You'll gladly take anything he gives you.

"Need more," he groans, his eyes glazed. "Can I have more, angel?"

You're nodding wildly as he sits you down on the shower bench. Hot water rains down on his back and he's lifting your feet up on the bench so he can keep you spread wide open. His big hands clamp down on your thighs and it would be almost painful if you weren't distracted by the way his mouth latched onto your clit.

"Fuck! Bucky, oh my god," there wasn't any stopping your rambling, begging, pleading. It was too much, too good. Bucky's moans vibrated to your core. He feasted on you like you were his last meal, licking every drop of your juices, sucking each fold before fucking into you with his tongue.

You could think, talk, breathe. All you knew was Bucky's touch as he made you come again. Your legs shook and your back arched and it went on for what felt like forever, this mind blowing pleasure that you almost didn't feel worthy of. That he looked up at you as he cleaned you up with his tongue like you were everything to him in this moment made your eyes well up again for being so emotional.

A look of worry wrinkles Bucky's brow.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

With a shaky hand you brushed back an errant hair from his forehead and caressed his cheek. "No, I'm fine. Sorry, I just get emotional like this before, y'know..." You didn't want say it, especially not to a guy you liked right after he ate you out. It was hard to look at him still sitting there between your legs, your face feeling hotter by the second.

"You mean before your period?"

You sputtered and tried to close your legs. No way, there's no way you're talking about your period with your dream man with your legs spread open like he's your gyno.

"Don't hide from me," Bucky growled. You watched, your jaw dropping, as he nuzzled his nose into your mound at the apex of your sex and breathed in deep, filling his lungs with your scent.

"How did you know?"

"Your phone, you left it open at the gym." Bucky doesn't stop kissing your mound, your belly. It's like he's a cat and you're the catnip. "And I can smell it on you. Your scent changes, gets...deeper somehow. Like you're calling to me."

Suddenly he's lifting you up and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist with a shout of surprise. Bucky grabs one of the giant hotel towels on his way out of the bathroom, carrying you like it's nothing. It is for him, but it's jarring. You always forget that he's not just some guy. Like the fact that his enhanced senses don't just include hearing and sight. Of fucking course he can scent you like a bloodhound.

Bucky lays out the big, fluffy towel and drops you on it, watching with hunger in his eyes as you jiggle when your body bounces on the mattress. You want to cover yourself with your arms and squeeze your legs shut, but you hear his voice in your head.

"Don't hide from me."

Bucky crawls on top of you, his thick arms and broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. It's just him and you and this bed. And between you his cock pushes thick and needy against your weeping cunt. His hips twitch as he kisses you, lightly rubbing the thick vein running down his cock through your folds.

"Please, Bucky," you whine against his lips.

His forehead rests against yours briefly before he sits back on his heels. Bucky's heavy-lidded gaze is hungry, staring at the way your cream coats his cock.

"Please don't tease me, Bucky," your plea comes out shaky and unsure. "I can't take it."

Bucky caresses your cheek, tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb.

"If you let me in, I don't think I'll ever leave."

Your brows pinch, your heart hammers away in your throat. You get the feeling he doesn't just mean in the physical sense.

"I don't want you to leave."

Bucky's eyes shut and his jaw clenches and you reach for him. To take his face in your hands so you can pull him close and look into those beautiful blue eyes when he finally thrusts inside. And he lets you.

You hold him in your hands as his whole body shakes. You've never felt so full, so complete, but you need more. If only he'd move, you need him to move.

"Bucky-"

The growl that explodes from deep in Bucky's chest is the only warning you get before he pulls back, nearly all the way out, and slams back in. The force of it shoves the air from your lungs and you can scarcely catch your breath before he does it again and again, picking up pace until he's hammering into you, pounding you into the mattress. His groin grinds against your pelvis with every deep thrust, the thatch of hair there teasing your clit.

Bucky takes you by the throat, tenderly at first, saying, "Look at me. Don't look away, beautiful, keep those eyes open."

It's a struggle but those blue eyes ground you as your mind tries to float away. You don't know what sounds you're making, what you're even saying but Bucky shushes you, tells you he's got you, you're his.

"My pussy. Mine to fill up, right, beautiful? All mine."

You nod your head as best you can with his fingers on your jaw, babbling nonsense. He doesn't slow or stop, that super-soldier stamina helping him keep a brutal pace.

Bucky grabs your right thigh, turning it over so it's on top of your left and holding it there with the hand not on your throat. Your eyes roll back at the way the new position has him grinding against your inner walls. You thought you felt full before, but this is something else entirely.

Your hands fly up to Bucky's forearm, desperate for a part of him to hold on to as he looms over you, taking what belongs to him. His hand on the meat of your thigh tightens as he grunts and groans and you grip at the hand on your throat, silently begging for his gentle hold to tighten too.

His eyes soften, as he shifts his hand and squeezes. This man could end you right here, right now, with a twitch of his finger but he's looking at you like you're delicate, so fucking delicate and it doesn't make any sense. Your brain is fried, everything feels like too much and just right at the same time. Like you're meant to be here under him, full of him, taking everything he gives you.

"God, you're so beautiful."

Your legs shake under his grip and you feel yourself implode. His words ricochet around your head as you come, coating his cock, and the sheets, with your release.

Bucky's grip on your throat loosens and he collapses on top of you, capturing your lips with his, cradling his arms around you. His full weight on top of your twisted, bent body is a welcome pressure. You never want him to leave.

"Mine," he growls again. "Gotta fill you up, breed this sweet little cunt so everyone knows you're mine. I can't hold back anymore. Say it. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours, Bucky," you cry, "all yours. Only yours."

Bucky lifts your right leg up over his shoulder, spreading you wide open. He brings his thick fingers down on your messy cunt with a wet slap and you cry out, shaking as you come again.

"That's it, beautiful. Milk me fucking dry."

Bucky's hips stutter and go still and he shouts, spilling inside you, filling you to the brim.

Bucky lets your leg fall from his shoulder and collapses on top of you. Before he can suffocate you, not that you'd mind, he rolls the two of you onto your side and holds you tight to his chest. You can feel his release slipping out, oozing down your thigh. There's so much, you don't even want to think about the clean up. Not now, not when it's so much easier to think about how good it feels to be here, in his arms.

"You're mine," Bucky whispers into your hair, taking a heavy breath, filling his lungs with your scent.

"All yours," you smile, your cheek pressing against his solid chest.

"I mean it. Not just here, not just tonight. I want to make you mine, angel."

Bucky sounds so serious it almost worries you. You turn your head where it rests on his bicep, trying to not get distracted by how big it is. Those blue eyes of his are soft but searching your face, like he needs you to understand, to know that he means it.

"I want that, Bucky. I want it so bad."

Your voice is quiet but you know he can hear you loud and clear, can hear the desperation in his voice mirrored back in yours.

His big hands roam your body, caressing your breast, your hips, like he wants to touch you everywhere all at once. You help him settle on a place by lifting your leg and curling it over his hip. You can see it on Bucky's face, how much he needs you. The way your combined scents make his nostrils flare, the tightening of his jaw. His fingers leave your hip and delve between the juncture of your thighs, a groan rumbling through his chest.

"Bucky," you pant as his fingers play in the mess he made, slipping in and out of your cunt.

He kisses your forehead, continuing to work you open once again.

"Need to have you again, angel." Bucky doesn't wait for you to respond before he's guiding himself in til you're full to bursting. "Gotta keep you stuffed full, baby."

You shudder at his words, his hands roaming your body.

"I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

---

🖤

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #my fics

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thestuffedalligator · 1 year

Text

“Fairy godmothers start stories,” said the old woman. “I end them. It’s not a popular job, but fortunately I’m the only me they ever made.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, love, if you want, I can get you out of this dungeon right now and back home by morning.”

The dungeon went deathly silent. Through the high ceiling of stone and steel, she could hear the sound of the goblins marching.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“But the chains—”

There was a silken hiss like falling sand. All that was left of the shackle was the angry, red welt around her ankle.

She stared. She said: “They have my sister—”

“Not to worry, dear,” said the old woman. “I can get her on our way out.”

“But the goblins—”

“Can’t do a thing about it. I do whatever I want – they all hate it, but they can’t stop me.”

“I signed a contract—”

“Oh, love, listen to me: I don’t care about contracts. I don’t care about quests or bargains or deals or wishes or riddles. If you want me to get you out of this story, then you’re out, no strings attached.”

There was a trickle of rainwater somewhere in the dungeon. Every drip echoed through the gloom.

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.”

“You’re very wise.”

“What do you get out of this?”

The old woman sighed and shuffled back to sit against the stone wall. “Peace of mind, maybe,” she said. “A story is a terrible thing to bear for some.”

“How many people have you done this for?”

“Hundreds.”

“That’s a lot.”

“No, dear. Not nearly enough.”

“No strings attached?”

She heard the rainwater again, a distant, dark and echoing drip… drip…

And then – “Only one,” said the old woman. “There is a chance that someday, you’ll look back and realize that you’ll never know if you could’ve done it.”

She nearly laughed. “That’s all?” she said – and then she caught the look in the old woman’s eye.

There was something there that chilled her.

Drip… drip…

She pulled her knees up to her chest. “That doesn’t sound too bad,” she said quietly.

“And for some it isn’t,” said the old woman. It sounded like a very careful answer.

Drip… drip…

“If,” she said. “If I say no – what happens?”

“Then you save your sister and defeat the goblins,” said the old woman. “You become an unlikely heroine, and your story becomes the stuff of legends – or you die and your sister is lost forever. But no matter what, for the rest of your life, no matter how long that may be, you will know exactly how you did.

“It’s up to you, dear,” the old woman said. She rose stiffly and brushed the dirt from her gown. “Have you made up your mind?”

#short story #fantasy #narrativia

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writtenbymoonflower · 4 months

Note

may i leave the suggestion of poly!marauders with a clumsy!reader

i just KNOW they would be stressed constantly

yes you may, hunny! thanks so much for requesting! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: mentions of injury, swearing

773 words

You were hoping and praying that the sound of your hip smacking against the doorknob would go unnoticed by your boyfriends, but much to your dismay, Remus’ head had spun around to look at you, and he quirked a brow at your slip-up. He was looking at you with much judgment, but there was playfulness glinting in his amber irises.

“Again, dove? That’s like the fourth time today.” His voice was teasing but his features were laced in concern.

“No…” you denied. You weren’t technically lying, because it was actually the sixth or seventh.

“At this rate we’re gonna have to take all the doorknobs off.” James teased, making you roll your eyes.

Before you could think of a response, Sirius cut in. “I’m not sure that would help Prongs, they’re determined to bump into everything.”

“I don’t bump into everything. Stop being so dramatic.” You put all your focus into walking steadily into the kitchen, not wanting to prove their point even further.

“Whatever you say, babe.” Sirius said, in a tone that clearly showed he did not believe you. You ignored him, going to the cupboard to grab a cup, only you ended up failing miserably. The cup slipped from your grip, bouncing off the shelf, hitting the counter, and rolling onto the ground, ending up by Sirius’ feet. (This is the reason you had plastic cups)

“Wha-” James struggled through barking laughter. “What were you just saying, gorgeous?” You took it in stride, marching over to Sirius to pick up the cup.

Unfortunately, you forgot that Sirius is himself, and he took your position as an opportunity to pinch your ass, making you stumble and slip backwards. You would’ve fallen if he hadn't caught you.

“Don’t be mean Pads, you know they’re jumpy.” James scolded his boyfriend.

“I know, it’s just so funny. They’re like a little baby fawn.” He teased as you wormed your way out of his grasp defiantly.

“It’s not funny, it’s worrying.” Remus scolded the two other boys, beckoning you over. You happily took the escape, deciding you would take his coddling over their bullying. Remus grabbed your arm, trying to pull you into him, but you hissed suddenly. Remus looked confused, but it was James who spoke up.

“Shit, baby! I didn’t even notice that.” The time it took for you to realize what he was talking about was very little, remembering the blooming bruise that spread over your upper arm.

“Ouch, lovely.” Remus sympathized, though you knew you were in for a telling off soon. “How have you done that?”

“I- I don’t remember.” You admitted, shamefully.

“What do you mean you don’t remember? You have a bruise the size of Asia on your arm!” James said, exasperated. He was being dramatic, as is his usual fashion when it came to you.

“I don’t know, it just showed up.” You said, cheeks flaming at the attention.

“A bruise like that doesn’t just ‘show up.’” Sirius said back, equal parts teasing and stressed.

“I probably just bumped it on something.” You floundered, very much ready for this conversation to be over. You honestly didn’t know what they expected, as much as you would never be caught admitting it, you were quite clumsy. There were usually a myriad of bruises littering your skin, varying in color and age from bumping into things or falling over. Not to mention the scars and scrapes on your hands from kitchen or craft accidents. You had to admit, you gave your boyfriends a fair amount of injuries to fuss over.

And fuss they did.

“Well we knew that.” Sirius snarked back, still loving as ever. “The issue is that you bump into things so often you don’t remember specific occasions. I mean, come on ba-"

“Settle.” Remus cut his eyes to Sirius. Despite how much it seemed like he was picking on you, it came from a place of concern, much like James’ babying and Remus’ scolding. You softened at their worried expressions.

“Look, I’ll try to be more careful, okay?” You said, threading your fingers into Remus’ mousy hair and giving a reassuring smile to the other two boys.

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” James consoled. “We just get protective, you know that. We don’t like you getting hurt, especially when you ignore it.” He gave you a knowing look. “Just look after yourself, for our sake.”

“Okay,” You sighed, overdramatic. “I guess I’ll try, it’s such intense labor, though.” You said sarcastically, walking away to the bathroom and hearing your boys chuckle.

Whack! Your thigh collided with the end table.

“That’s it!” Sirius called. “I’m ordering you a bubble suit.”

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wynnyfryd · 2 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 60

part 1 | part 59 | ao3

cw: reference to canonical minor character death

Max slams the phone down, knocking her forehead against the wall. Sixteen calls in a row and still no answer. “I give up,” she sighs. “You should just go.” “Seriously?” Steve protests. “And just leave you here? Alone? After—?” After all that? He throws his hands out like an umpire calling a safe. “No. No way.” “Look, my mom will be home soon, you can’t—” “—I’m not letting you get hurt—!” “—What are you gonna do? Fight my nightmares for me?”

“Maybe I will,” Steve mutters under his breath, pissed off and replaying the conversation on repeat while he gets ready. Feels like a psycho for doing it; feels certifiably unhinged just going about his evening after everything that happened, putting on a clean shirt and choking himself in a cloud of Farrah Fawcett spray so he can go pick up the sweet-but-stupid girl named Brenda he promised to take to the game tonight; so he can go cheer in the bleachers like he didn’t almost die.

(Or like, very vividly hallucinate his own death, which... Yeah. Doesn’t feel any less horrific.)

But whatever. Max is right. Without El, there’s really nothing to do but wait. Hop’s dead, Bob’s dead, Joyce is thirty hours away. Owens is off the table, too. What’s Steve gonna do? Call the government and tell them to come nuke the boogeyman? He doesn’t have any proof.

He also doesn’t want to freak Dustin or any of the other kids out without knowing for sure what’s going on and what, if anything, can be done about it, so...

Fuck.

Fuck!

He gets dressed; he goes out. Picks up Brenda and does his best to be nice to her even though she gets on his nerves the moment she gets into his car, and he buys them sodas at the gas station and doesn't say a word when she spills Sprite down the side of his passenger seat.

The school is packed when they show up — the crowd in high spirits, the marching band leading chants. Nancy's reporting from the sidelines, Lucas is laughing with his teammates on the bench, and Steve leads Brenda toward the bleachers and does his best not to think. Not about the graveyard, not Max, not the looming threat of cosmic terrors. Not about the fact that Eddie is somewhere in this building, probably looking all hot and menacing while he leads tonight's campaign. Probably perched on a prop throne drinking Mountain Dew from a painted chalice like a fucking dork; probably making it look sexy, anyway. Tight jeans, legs spread, an air of casual command…

Steve could go find him. He could make everyone else leave; he could get on his knees and crawl between Eddie's legs—

"Does it bother you that we might win the championship, like, right after you graduated?"

Reality comes back like a slap in the face. "Yeah, that's an excellent question, Brenda, thank you so much for bringing that up."

They get settled into their seats, and Steve wishes he were more excited when the ref throws the jump ball, but he mostly just wants to go home. ("You always want to go home," the Robin in his head reminds him, and the Robin in real life throws him a weird look when she catches him snorting to himself about it.) He's just tired. Worn down in his bones, hollowed where he thinks his marrow should be, and he's clinging to normalcy with a sort of sweaty desperation that he’s pretty sure Brenda can smell on him because the date just sucks; it’s so bland, so mutually boring and bored. He spends most of the night mouthing stupid shit at Robin or keeping a sharp eye on the court — anything to ignore his proximity to Eddie; anything to drown out his messed-up head and heart.

When the game finally ends Brenda gets a ride to a party with some friends. Steve goes back to Dustin’s place and paces a hole into the carpet. Stays up until 3 A.M., humming a Fleetwood Mac song.

In the morning, he tells himself as he drifts into fitful sleep.

In the morning it’ll be fine.

In the morning Max will come by the store like she promised, and they’ll keep trying until they get ahold of El, or Owens, or someone, and that someone will know what to do and how to help.

—

In the morning the TV tells him there’s a dead girl in his house.

—

part 61

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson

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olive-fics · 9 months

Text

Studying with Abby. SFW

You missed your best gf, Abby flipping Anderson. Of course you wanted to hang out with her.. but she was studying.. whatever. she can multitask ..Right??

☆Reader is hyperactive/neurodivergent in ways (?), Abby can get annoyed and angry..., slight angst, petnames, FEM reader, comfort at end.☆

For the girls and the gays, Men leave! (please)

☆My awesome friend Ara gave me this idea so Ilysm! <3 ☆

CORRECT ME ON MY MISTAKES PLEASE!!!

"Sit still.." *Abby would groan placing her thick fingers on your hips, nudging you down into her hips. "You can't sit on my lap anymore if you keep moving peach, 'tis too distracting.." Abby would rub her nose and temples annoyed, not at you fully of course but the way you kept moving against her hips alone.

-This was probably your 4th time shifting on Abby's lap in just these past 10 minutes.

"Oh c'mon...you're hard to sit on when you study over the desk ..can't we just go lay down..? Get comfy..?"

"How the hell will I study when I'm laying down y/n." She was upset, something she never was with you.

"wh-"

"Please.. just- go sit down..I'll join you in a bit? Please let me study baby girl." Abby asked with a sigh.

As much as it hurt you, you still obliged to her command and sat down on the couch in her room. Of course you couldn't focus without being next to Abby, it made you nervous. Just sitting away from her made you anxious, that's when everything was louder and 10x intensified. The urge to bite your nails, sweat, click your tongue, crack knuckles, whatever you could fidget with was much more impulsive than usual.

Right as you decided to check your phone's time or mindlessly scroll online, it died. of course... time to do that fucking walk of shame up to Abby (who was now upset with you) and ask her if you can play piano tiles, candy crush or whatever games she let you download on her phone.

Getting up from the couch your bunny slippers shuffled across her mahogany floors with that airy "pfft" sound when the ears flipped up with each step.

"A-Abby..?" Fuck.. of course your voice was falling out. You got so nervous when Abby acted like this, which rarely happens.

Abby's office chair didn't move, instead Abby just replied short.

"Hm? what do you need."

"Can.. can I borrow your phone.. for- for games...?"

As much as Abby wanted to be angry at everything your stammering made her laugh.

"Such an Ipad kid..sure sure.." She sighed again, giving you mixed signals.

Abby handed you her Iphone, Abby had those clear cases with a little polaroid of you and her on the back encased by the plastic.

You smiled softly and ran off back to the couch bundling up under the blankets. Your fingers tapping at the screen and small sounds or music emitted from under the blankets. "Sweet!" "Tasty.." "Delicious."

As much as you were lost in Abby's screen you didn't even notice her calling your name...

"Y/n? Honey turn it down." "Y/n please, I need to finish studying.."

It was too late once you did hear her though, Abby was already on her feet marching to your place on the couch. She had pulled the blanket off of your head and gave you a small annoyed hand gesture.

"You gonna turn it down or do I have to take it from you?"

Embarrassment flushed out your cheeks into a bright red. How could you not hear her..?? You felt so stupid.

"I-I'm sorry Abs.. I- I'll turn it down.. I-.." Why were you stuttering now..? You felt so weak and little as Abby stood over you.

Abby could notice your mind rattling as you overthought the whole situation growing frustrated.

"Hey..Hey it's okay..i didn't mean to hurt your feelings love.. I'm so sorry." Abby frowned and held out her arms to you for a big hug.

With slight hesitation you still accepted Abby's hug and stuffed your face deep into her shoulders, the smell of her pine soap and hair washes filled your nose as you hugged her tightly.

"I'm almost done. Can you wait another 10 minutes?" Abby reassured you she would cuddle and chill with you as much as you wanted after. "Alright. I'm right here okay? Just wait a few." How was Abby so good at making you feel better. ughhhhhhhhh

After hearing Abby's keyboard click and her pencil dragging over her notebook for what seemed like forever, she finally got out of her office chair and looked at you with the warmest smile ever.

Abby walked over to you and draped the blanket over the two of you.

“I’m sorry Y/N. Movie night..?”

Fuck yes.?!?! Movie nights with Abby were the best. But then she hit the..

“I picked last time- what do you want to watch Pumpkin?”

God..you wanted to pick your favorite ofcourse..The muppets. (100% best movies…) but..you felt so bad for pestering her while studying so you put one of her favorite boring War movies on.

“Really..? You want to watch that..?”

Abby was kinda shocked you picked one of her favorites,but how you described it was..

“The Micheal Bay Film with the guns..and war-“

Abby put it on and kissed your forehead pulling you into her to cuddles.

“C’mon..I’m sorry about earlier..I love you..yknow that.?”

You nod and smile softly just emerging into her warmth and into the blankets because you just needed to sleep everything off,so did Abby.

“I love you princess..”

“I love you too…Abby..”

♡

HII sorry for lack of posts I cannot write cus my brain is slow.😞🔥‼️ but I have an Ellie Williams one shot or something coming up!! (Srs..) okay Goodnight :3 and thank you Ara for giving me this idea!!

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Text

Part 2 to this post

When gay marriage became legal, everyone expected Steve and Eddie to run to the courthouse and get it done.

They’d waited long enough.

But they were watching the news on a hospital room television instead of their home, keeping Wayne company while he received his last chemo treatment.

It had been a really rough six months, Eddie taking the brunt of caring for Wayne so Steve could work and pay the bills for all of them. But they wanted to.

Wayne had done so much for both of them, he deserved to be taken care of now.

The doctors had said he was getting to an age where the chemo would most likely only extend his life by a few years at most, that the cancer growing in his body would only be stopped temporarily by this drug that made him weaker than any cancer could.

At first, he didn’t want it. He told them both it wasn’t worth putting his body through it at his age, but Eddie convinced him through tears that he wasn’t ready to let him go yet.

And Wayne always did have a soft spot for Eddie’s tears.

Every other Friday, Wayne was brought to the hospital by Eddie, sometimes accompanied by Steve if his day off lined up right, hooked up to an IV of fluids and a harsh chemo mix, and kept for observation for 8 hours to ensure it didn’t cause any major issues on his frailer than he’d like to admit body.

The last treatment hadn’t gone well. Wayne ended up having low oxygen levels and high blood pressure, so they kept him overnight. Overnight turned into 3 nights, four days, which is sort of like a cruise to the Bahamas if you take out the fact they were in a hospital in Indiana.

Steve was holding Eddie’s hand as they all watched the tv, their silver wedding bands from a decade ago resting on their ring fingers.

It didn’t have to be legal to mean something to them.

Wayne had been much livelier over the last 24 hours, his blood pressure back at a normal for him level, though his oxygen level still fluctuated between too low and normal.

“Would ya look at that? They did it.”

Steve looked over at where he was sitting up in bed, smiling at the tv.

“They did.”

Eddie was wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Took them long enough.”

Everyone in the room huffed out an unamused laugh.

It did take way too long.

“Steve.”

Steve looked back over to Wayne and noticed he was looking tired again, like the news was the only reason he’d been forcing himself to be awake.

“You remember that bet?”

They’d made a lot of bets over the years, usually during March Madness. Wayne purposely bet against Steve because it was an easy win, even though they liked the same teams and often had similar brackets.

So no, he didn’t really remember whatever bet he was talking about now.

“Oh come on. I’m the old one here. You’re supposed to have great memory.”

“I’ve had like, eight concussions. My memory is like a goldfish.”

Eddie snorted next to him and nodded in agreement. Just this morning Eddie had to remind him that it was trash day despite it being the same day every week for the last 17 years they’d lived in their house.

“You owe me $5.”

“I’d remember that.”

“Eddie asked for you.”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other with concern. Was Wayne having a stroke? Was he slowly losing lucidity? He’d never shown any signs of memory problems, but sometimes being in the hospital had a lot of negative effects.

“When Eddie woke up in ‘86. I told you he’d ask for ya first and he did. Never collected on the bet because you two were too much.”

Steve suddenly remembered everything from that day, tears pooling in his eyes at how all of this started.

If he hadn’t stayed to hold Eddie’s hand then, would he be holding it now? Would they be husbands in every way but legally?

Steve looked at Eddie with a smile.

Then he turned to Wayne and smirked.

“Bet you $5 I propose right now.”

Wayne smirked back at him.

“Bet you won’t.”

Steve gave him the look that said ‘just watch me’ and stood up, dropping to one knee slowly.

“Eddie Munson. We already wear rings. We’ve lived together as husbands for so long, I can’t even believe we aren’t actually married. But I want to be. I want to fill out the stupid paperwork at the courthouse and maybe plan a little wedding with our kids and family. I want to have a honeymoon and be young and in love even though we aren’t young anymore. I want to be yours in every way starting right now. How does that sound?”

Eddie was crying. He was always more emotional than Steve, he just hid it better. Usually.

“You wanna be mine?”

“I’m already yours. I just want us to have everything.”

“Then I wanna be yours.”

“Good.”

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him, more passionately than they usually ever did in public or around Wayne. It was a special occasion, though, what choice did they really have?

After a minute, Steve pulled away and looked over to Wayne.

“Sorry about your $5.”

“I’m not.”

Wayne had never been more pleased to not be able to collect on a bet.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ao3fic #tumblr drabbles #headcanon #part 2 #stranger things #my fic #wayne munson #future fic #wayne is old and sick here but he does not die

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imaginesmai · 8 months

Text

Right around the corner (4) - Azriel

I didn't mean to make it this long, but I hope you liked it! There will be a fifth and final part, I think. You guys wanted to forgive Azriel so I needed to show you what happened. Be careful with the tags!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: after the damage has been done, Azriel finds his brothers ready to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: prepare a second tissue box. Also, mental health issues - our boy has been through a lot and doesn't talk kindly about himself.

Cassian only remembered a few big arguments between Azriel and him. While Rhysand had headbutted with the general at the beginning, Cassian and Azriel’s relationship had been natural. The first one was loud, abundant and had a deep, burning need of someone understanding his pain. The shadowsinger was the complete opposite, and they had instantly connected.

Their biggest argument so far, that had brought them apart for almost ten years, had been when Rhys disappeared under the mountain. Cassian had gathered an army and was ready to march on Amarantha when Azriel stopped him. At the moment, he had felt betrayed by his brother, frustrated and furious.

But even if it had taken him ten years, they had worked their way around it.

Before Rhysand winnowed them away, Cassian was ready to start the second, biggest argument of their relationship. Even if he tried to hide it, the general still had abandonment and trust issues, and that his brother had hid something so important from him, that hadn’t trusted him with something so precious for an Illyrian male, broke his heart.

He was ready for the argument, but wasn’t ready for Azriel’s cries.

The cabin was filled with shadows, that moved frantically around. The shadowsinger had lost control of his powers a very, very few occasions, never relying on his emotions. But when Rhysand and Cassian appeared in the cabin, the high lord had to create a barrier between them and the shadows to protect themselves.

“Brother” Cassian whispered when the shadows started to let go, enough to see Azriel curled in the couch.

“Azriel, what’s wrong?” Rhysand was by his side the second he was let through, a hand on his shoulder. The shadowsinger barely acknowledge them. “Damn it. You’re freezing”

“I’ll turn on the fire”

“And bring a blanket” Rhysand called out as Cassian started moving.

It was muscle memory, after so long. After so many nights where either of them came battered to the cabin and Rhysand’s mother would take care of them. In silence, Cassian moved around the familiar space, turning on candles and searching for clothes.

Meanwhile, Rhysand used his powers to get into Azriel’s mind. Instead of prying into his memories, to rip away whatever was causing him pain, his friend helped him to rebuild his mental wards.

The high lord managed to make him sit up, enough so he could fall back against Rhysand’s shoulder and the male could hug his friend. The sobs quieted down and the shadows disappeared, apparently happy someone was taking care of their master for now.

Cassian stared at them for a moment, torn between the need to comfort and to hurt. To comfort Azriel as he had comforted him so many times in the past, to be there for him and apologize to any feelings he had felt during the last hours. But also, to search for the source of that pain and tear it down to pieces.

Years of living with him had taught him to be patient, so he ended up sitting on the other side of Azriel, tossing a pair of trousers and a sweater on his lap.

“Come on, try to stand up”

In silence, between Cassian and Rhysand, they managed to put some clothes on the shadowsinger. Azriel was quiet all the time, with his gaze lost in the fire. Every now and then, his knees would buck down and he would hitch a sob. But each time, there were his two friends, ready to catch him and steady him.

It felt as if nothing had changed for a moment, as if it was Cassian beaten to a pulp after a bad fight or Azriel having panic attacks when the lights came off. So many times in the past had they been in that situation.

When they finished, they ended up sitting in the couch. Now, they were bigger, wider, and nothing similar to the scrawny boys that huddled together when no one else wanted them. The couch felt ridiculously small, yet they managed to fit just fine.

It took Azriel a while to talk, and they didn’t pressure him.

“I have a mate” he admitted.

Through the haze of sorrow and sadness, of not knowing if the bond would hold on for much longer now that you had realized what had been going on, Azriel didn’t feel any different. He had imagined himself saying it a lot of times, presenting you to his family – with good and bad outcomes. And it had made him nervous, wary, enough that he had decided against it.

As he confessed it to his brothers, his family, he felt no different.

And hated himself just a little bit more.

“Did they… do this?” Cassian asked carefully, feeling how Azriel’s body tensed under his arm. “They hurt you?”

“No”

Rhysand willed himself to stay calm and respect his privacy, but he wanted nothing more than to answer Cassian’s silent call to barge in his mind and solve whatever was happening.

“Her name is Y/N” he added, his eyes filling with tears once more. “She… The bond snapped six years ago. I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up so bad”

“Y/N” Rhysand repeated, trying to remember if he had heard your name before.

“Six years?” Cassian looked between Rhysand and Azriel. “That… can’t be. Six years?”

“I fucked up”

Azriel’s voice broke once more, and between sobs and hitched breaths, he managed to explain what had happened. He let it free from his chest, hoping it would make him feel better, but it didn’t. It only made him realize, once more, how fucked up he was.

Without interrupting, Cassian and Rhysand listened to the story of that pointless mission that took him right to your door, where he was supposed to ask you about a male’s disappearance. About the moment he felt the bond in chest, in his soul, and how he had run away and avoided you.

They listened as he broke when he talked about that day you had invited him over, ready to accept the bond, and how he had faked to be confident. He didn’t mean to disappoint you, so when you had asked with so much hope if that was what he wanted, he had said yes, even if part of him knew he wasn’t ready.

Azriel described how, during the following weeks, he had confused the happiness from finally being together, with no interruptions, with the usual high of mates accepting the bond. How he had realized later that it wasn’t normal the fear and anguish he felt after he left your apartment, and how without meaning to or knowing how, he hadn’t accepted your imprint on him.

“That’s why we haven’t noticed” the high lord said, taking it all in. His brother’s story, his hurt and pain.

“What were you afraid of?” Cassian almost cut him off, bursting out the question both of them wondered about. “We are your family, Az. You should know we will accept you no matter what. And a mate… that’s something wonderful”

“Because I don’t deserve her” Azriel finally looked up to Cassian, and his friend was taken aback at the emotions in his eyes. “She’s soft, and beautiful, and the worst thing she can do is squish a spider without wanting to”

“Azriel, that’s not – “

“It is. You should see her, Rhys” he cut him off, turning to look at him. “Y/N is… different. The Cauldron must have made a mistake, because she’s everything I’m not. And I don’t deserve her”

Azriel tried to let Rhysand know why he didn’t deserve you. Why, every time he thought about bringing you into his life and letting you know the spy master, it broke his heart a little. He wanted to keep you safe, away from anything that could stain you the way he was stained. And he had thought, apparently, that he could get away with it.

Feyre poked at his mental barriers softly, wondering what was happening. After sending a comforting message through the bond, Rhysand returned Azriel’s look with a different type of conviction.

“I don’t know her, and I would love to” Rhysand told him, giving him a soft smile. “But brother, I know that whoever gets to be your mate, to share their life with you, has been blessed by the Cauldron. Your family didn’t see you the way we do, the way she does. And what they did – that isn’t what you have to expect any time someone gets close to you”

“My family isn’t the problem here” he tried to excuse himself, but the high lord could see the truth in his eyes.

“It is. You’re afraid to committing yourself to the bond because you fear she will break it. Because your family broke your trust. And then you thought you had that with Mor, and – “

“Don’t go there” Azriel warned him. “Don’t read me”

“I don’t have to read you. I know you”

“Az, you… deserve a mating bond” Cassian spoke finally. “Everything you have been through isn’t your excuse to reject it, it’s the reason you finally have something good”

Azriel wasn’t ready to talk about it. He had never been ready to talk about how he had felt when his brothers, the people he looked up to, tortured him as a game. He hadn’t shared with them yet how hard had it been to know he was a mere observer of his family life, locked away in a dungeon and treated like a dog.

And the feeling of not belonging, of having a safe place sabotaged, had only grown each time he watched Mor from the distance with someone else.

He wasn’t ready to talk about it, but he understood, that he had to.

“I feel like it’s all a dream. As if I’m watching my own life unfold from the distance, like a good movie. Whenever I’m not with her, I have this… thing” he explained, opening his broken heart to his brothers. “Like I’m a fraud”

“You’re not a fraud” Cassian corrected him quickly, barely standing his brother’s self-depreciating speech.

“I am. I pretend I have it all together but I’m so afraid” he swallowed hard at the end, skipping a breath. Azriel ran a shaky hand through his hair, and his brothers only held him stronger. “Sometimes I think about… our future, about her with me, and I feel like drowning because what if she – what if she stops loving me? I can’t handle – She’s all I have, all I want. I love her so, so much. I can’t – “

That time, both males were ready when Azriel tried to fold into himself again, shadows shifting anxiously and turning off a few candles. They were ready to keep him up straight and, somehow, holding him together as he broke apart once more.

Azriel needed help, and his family was more than ready to finally walk him through it.

You didn’t know what breaking a mating bond meant, or if that was even possible. If the feeling of your chest at any hour was the void of Azriel’s bond or if it was just your imagination. Either way, you had never experienced such a pain.

Barely able to leave the bed, you had been forced to close the bakery. Not permanently, you told yourself, just until you had it all together once more. Even if you didn’t know what that meant.

The day after Azriel left was spent grieving, and thankfully, you had his shadows to help you around. You managed to make it to the bed, to slide the curtains shuts and cry in peace without breaking your back along with your heart.

A day turned into two, then into three. Before you knew it, it had been a week and you weren’t any better.

You had tried to find an explanation, to comfort yourself in the happy memories or forget the past events. But your mind brought you back to the horrible realization that he didn’t want you. That Azriel didn’t love you the way you did.

You were understanding, you had always been. A smile on your face, gentle hands and loving words. That was what you were, a kind soul, your friends told you. Never through a tragedy other than losing your wings, always loved and taken care of.

Azriel had taken it all away in just one night.

The first note came from Feyre, although it wasn’t the last one. Even if you ignored them, you received those same notes that had uncovered the truth during the whole week.

Hello, Y/N. It’s Feyre, do you remember me? I have my art studio in front of your bakery. I’ve noticed that the bakery is closed, some of your usual customers even came to ask me about it. Everything alright?

Hi, Feyre here. Should have told you in the previous note that I’ve heard about you and Azriel from Rhysand. I’m here if you want to talk.

It’s Feyre again. I’ve seen the new sign about you taking a few days off. I hope everything is fine.

I hope it doesn’t bother you, but my friend Mor has been begging me for days to let her write you a message.

Hey, it’s Morrighan. We don’t know each other, but I fixed your necklace once. We heard about your thing with Azriel. Just wanted to say that part of it it’s my fault, that I haven’t treated him right in a long time, and many of his insecurities are because of me. So, I guess I’m partly the one to blame and I’m sorry. And you should know how miserable he is without you.

Y/N. I’m Cassian. Hi. How are you?

Dear Y/N, we were wondering if you would like to join us for dinner on Friday night. Greetings, Rhysand.

You ignored each and every note they sent you, even the ones carefully delivered by Azriel’s shadows. You expected them to leave, and part of you wanted them to do so and forget everything that reminded you of him. But they stayed for the whole week, bringing you food and taking care of your wellbeing. And the other part of you, the irrational one, liked the pain of the familiarity they brough.

They even helped you prepare a bath when you decided to be functional again. On Saturday’s morning, you changed the sheets, prepared the laundry and ventilated the room. You tossed out every dirty tissue and food container you had accumulated as if something had possessed you to do so. Then, you took a bath and cleaned carefully every part of your body.

It reminded you of cleaning Azriel’s wings and hair, of taking baths together, and you ended up crying naked in the bathtub until the water was cold. It took you half of the day to be decent enough to even wonder if you were ready to open the bakery once more.

Not that you were able, because there was a knock on your door and you just knew who was outside.

“It’s Azriel”

His voice was muffled because of the distance, but you heard the roughness. You froze on the kitchen, where you had been having your silent debate, and your heart sped up.

None of the notes were his, not even a casual flick through the bond that kept you communicated through long missions. If it wasn’t for the range of emotions you had felt during the last days, some of them similar to yours but not quite, you would have thought he had disappeared.

But there he was, just behind your door. Some shadows slipped through the bottom, tangling between your legs. The cold feeling was different from the one the usuals left, and you realized they were panicked shadows.

Azriel had mentioned you that his emotions controlled his powers if he wasn’t careful, and that the shadows went and came with them.

The new shadows tried to push you to the door, and like a rag doll, you let them complete the small path. They disappeared once more under the door, only to appear again when you didn’t open it.

“Hi” Azriel croaked out, only the wood in between. “I’m sorry. They appeared a week ago and I can’t control them yet. I’m sorry”

“They’re colder”

Your sore throat matched the tone of his voice. It wasn’t more than a whisper, a useless fact that you knew Azriel already noticed. But still, you felt the need to mention it. There was no anger left, no deception. Just the feeling of the new shadows caressing your skin frantically.

You couldn’t bring yourself to open the door and face him again, because you knew you wouldn’t forgive him. There was a pending talk between the two of you, missing explanations. You wanted to understand what had happened during the last six years, and he deserved to know what he had put you through.

Instead of asking you to open the door, you heard him shift on his feet and flap his wings.

“Yeah. And smaller” he agreed. “Um, I tried to get rid of them. Are they… bothering you?”

Am I bothering you?

“No. Not yet”

No, you aren’t. Not yet.

“Right”

It was almost comical to watch the shadows move around you. You hadn’t noticed the single tear that escaped, but they did – and in a moment you were blinded as they all tried to wipe it out at the same time. They made you take a step backward and almost stumble to the ground.

You had never seen too much of Azriel’s shadows, of his power. Apart from the single ones that danced around you and kept you company, you had never met the real shadowsinger. All the stories around him felt strange, property of someone else rather than your mate.

Azriel must have heard you move, or gasp, or maybe the shadows told him. He placed a hand on the door.

“Are you okay? I should go back. I’m sorry. I can’t make them – “

“They feel different too” you comment, enchanted by the shadows moving in your line of sight.

They were dark, and you shouldn’t have been able to see anything. But in the darkness, you could somehow guess their shapes. Some of them were smaller, bigger, thinner and wider. They weren’t like the formal, perfect ones Azriel usually wielded around you. They felt raw.

It took him a while to answer, and you waited patiently for his answer. You didn’t expect anything from that conversation, weren’t even sure what the conversation was about. Just hearing his voice felt at the same time as a punishment and a reward.

Still, he surprised you.

“Madja says they are the original shadows, the ones that should have been around since the begging” Azriel confessed, his nails scratching the door. “The ones… She says I was so scared of my own power that I locked it in a cage as a child and created just a shadow of the real one. Which I could control and… understand.”

“Madja the healer?” you blinked, still surrounded by his shadows. “Why are you – are you hurt? What happened?”

“No, I’m fine. I mean, unharmed. I’m not hurt” he chuckled humorlessly. “She’s been helping me with other things”

“Like what?”

You didn’t know where it came from, but there was an urgent edge on your voice that kept you alert. You knew Madja, had seen her help Azriel after any nasty mission. He had even told you about getting rid of your scars with her help.

Her name brought the already familiar pain – that you knew about her because she was important for Azriel, but she didn’t know about you because you weren’t that important for him. You waited in silence until he decided to talk again. When he did, you could tell he was close to tears.

“I’m not okay. It has taken me too long to figure it out, and it has costed me what I love the most in the world, but I’m not. I… am afraid, all the time” he started. “I am afraid that you will see my true self, what I am in the dark, and hate me the way I hate it. I’m afraid that you will figure out what made my family despite me, toss me aside, and decide to do the same. Or that you realize that I’m not a good mate, and be too kind to tell me and live trapped in a lie”

Feelings wasn’t something you usually shared with Azriel. You were the sensible one, the emotional mate. Who talked about something that made you happy or sad, that expressed your fears knowing he would be there for you no matter what. But not once in your six years you had heard about his.

Each word dug a hole in your chest, from your own feelings or his. The shadows eased enough to let you take a step forward. As if there was an invisible hand printed out, you put your hand where his was on the other side of the door.

“I am terrified to hurt you without meaning to, or to not be what you need. All the time. I’ve… created a routine, apparently, to give myself a sense of false confidence. To build a reality” Azriel stopped to catch his breath. “You’ve shaken that reality where I just… survived, and I thought I could continue pretending everything was fine. It’s not. It’s all so fucking wrong in my head”

Your own eyes were filled with tears by then, ready to fall on your knees. Because, what were you supposed to do now? You wished you could just forget about the past week, about his words – because you had just accepted that he was okay, had missed any signal that he was struggling.

And that made you feel almost as bad as him not accepting the bond.

“So I’m gonna get right, I’ve been getting help” your mate finished, taking a deep breath. “And then we… I love you, Y/N. I don’t have much to offer, but everything I am and have, is yours. When I’m okay, I promise, I will make things right. I promise”

Before you could answer, his shadows disappeared and Azriel winnowed away.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @wallacewillow0773638 @clara-geekhime @kalulakunundrum @saltedcoffeescotch @originalcrusadetrash @mel-wcst @ailyr92 @bubybubsters @chickensrock3

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