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#and then blade constantly just being blade as usual
moeblob · 1 month
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So does he, Gallagher.
#honkai star rail#hsr blade#gallagher#i based this off of how many times i used funny soda man to help be a healer with his poppin soda pop in SU#and then blade constantly just being blade as usual#its normally him saying unnecessary to my actual healer but#i kept forgetting gallagher heals and i kept healing when i didnt even need to so TECHNICALLY yeah it was unnecessary#but the amount of times blade was the recipient......#i cant use like most of my newer units in story bc i cant ascend or i run out of leveling mats so i just#get them and toss them into simulated universe for funsies cause i can match their levels better#so thats where i tossed gallagher and he is genuinely fun to play as ? like i love his punches and kicks to start the battle#funny soda man is funny (to me) and im really behind in plot still#but last time i tried to play it on my laptop and got a kickass cutscene my laptop lagged and i couldnt even see it RIP to me#so now that its like ... me trying to play it on desktop ?#i mostly get on desktop for comms and if i do much else i feel like im slacking off even if i would take a break anyway#one day i can play more story plot stuff and actually meet the funny guys#also in case you know me for Not Having Boys in HSR i need to point out#i did pull Gallagher however same 10 pull got a 4 star girl copy for someone i never use and she is at e4 now cool#and i didnt even think of the irony as i started this i just like drawing blade and i wanted to draw gallagher#so when i already had the dialogue planned and am drawing i was like OH WAIT haha im funnier than i thought#(no i am not but we can pretend)
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kentopedia · 3 months
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I loooveee the way u write nanami 🥺🥺 was wondering if u could do a mini fic on nanami x reader but when they were in high school :O I feel reader would constantly flirt with him but he stays unbothered until she stops 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank uuuu
౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS — nanami kento
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omg thank u so so much, you're very sweet <3 i think i was taking requests when you asked this, so im so so so sorry i took forever to answer :( this isn't exactly what you said but i hope it's close to what you had in mind <3
contents: sfw, high school nanami & reader, mutual pining, silly teenage emotions, fluff, it's not even really romantic but they're best friends that won't admit they have a crush on each other, reader is shorter than him, gn!reader — 1.2k
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“you can’t stay mad at me forever, kento.”
your best friend — or so you thought — stayed silent as you walked through the abandoned warehouse, searching for the curses that needed exorcising. so far, they’d evaded you, just as kento had all of your questions.
he glanced over at you, mouth drawn into its usual line. “i can if i want.”
“oh really?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued forward, following him through the building. “are you fifteen or five? you’re supposed to be the mature one!”
kento rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, letting his blade dangle loosely at his side. an odd sound echoed through the hallways, but it wasn’t quite menacing enough to be a curse.
you groaned. “don’t you know everyone will just keep pairing us up on missions until we work this out?” if kento was going to continue to be a pain, you wouldn’t allow him the silence he wanted so desperately. he’d been ignoring you for over a week. “haibara’s lucky. he gets to go with the second years.”
nanami glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow, before looking ahead once more. “you mean he’s lucky he gets to go with gojo.”
though you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an insult to you or not, you laughed. “maybe.”
“yeah,” kento scoffed. “i thought so.”
the tone was flatter than usual, even for someone like kento, and you raised your eyebrows, letting the words settle between you.
“you’re being so sour. you know, you never even told me what i did wrong. you’re so mad at me, kento, and i don’t even really know why.”
kento watched his feet take one step, then another, the opposite ones moving ahead. he’d grown a lot over the summer — a fact you’d somehow only realized. since when had he been that much taller than you?
“i’m not mad,” he finally settled on. a weak argument as to why he’d been ignoring you for the duration of your mission, and the week before.
you frowned, chewing the inside of your mouth. although kento had a kind heart, you knew how nasty he could be to people he didn’t like. you didn’t want to be one of those on the list. “kento… i really am sorry. if i’ve done something wrong.”
the tension drained from his shoulders. he sighed. “you haven’t.”
despite wanting to push the issue further, you let it die, deciding to listen to the silence in case of any curses. though, it had been nearly half an hour, and you hadn’t found any yet. you were beginning to think that maybe your teacher had led you astray.
“can i ask you something?” kento, after ten minutes, finally interrupted the quiet again. and though that sort of phrase was never a good sign, you would’ve taken anything to get him talking to you again.
“of course, kento.”
he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming shy, almost. had it not been so dark, you would have seen the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, that you only assumed was there to begin with.
“what is it about gojo that you like so much?”
you blinked. “what do you mean?”
“you’re… interested in him, aren’t you? like that?” kento shifted awkwardly, holding his body as if it wasn’t quite his own. “i mean, i just assumed…”
all over, you great hot, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, a wave of dread heaping onto your stomach. “you think i have a crush on gojo?”
“don’t you?”
you thought about it for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know. maybe.”
“maybe?” kento pinched his eyebrows together. “what the hell kind of answer is that? you either do or you don’t.”
“i think he’s...” you stumbled over the words, not really sure when you’d started talking to nanami kento about these sorts of things. the words tasted sour in your mouth. “well, i suppose he’s attractive, isn’t he? he’s certainly charming. he makes me laugh.”
“you’re always flirting with him," kento said skeptically.
you shrugged. "i'm just teasing. if you consider that flirting, then i guess i am."
“hm. you sound like you think you’re supposed to be interested in him, just because he’s gojo.”
that raised a small laugh out of you. “maybe you’re right. i think i might just be interested in people i know won’t ever like me back.” kento’s eyes flashed, and before he could say anything, lips parted, you continued. “but what do i know about anything, anyway? teenagers are supposed to be dumb like that, aren’t they?”
kento frowned, brown eyes softer than you’d seen in awhile. “i don’t think you’re dumb.”
“thanks.” for some reason, that made you bashful, darting your eyes away as you smiled at the ground. “have you ever had a crush on anyone, kento?”
he gave you a tiny little smile, poking you in the temple, before repeating your words from earlier. “i don’t know. maybe.”
“you’re so stupid.”
kento laughed, then, a light noise that was more familiar to you than it was to a lot of others. “you know, if it makes you feel better, i think gojo likes you. really, i do. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes when you laugh at his jokes. geto told us. he talks about you to him all the time.”
and though you’d expected the words to send a wave of glee over you, the sort of silly emotion that came with a teenage crush, you didn’t feel excited as you should've. perhaps because satoru had never been the one you wanted.
“gojo just likes to be admired. besides, everyone likes when people laugh at their jokes. that's not special.” you kicked at the floor. “anyway, geto’s probably just telling you all that so you’ll tell me and i’ll make a fool of myself in front of them. that would really make them laugh.”
kento frowned, contemplative. “i don’t think he would do that.”
he wouldn’t. it just seemed the only good way to diverge the conversation.
you threw your hands up, expelling a loud sigh. “well… whatever. honestly, it doesn't matter. i don’t think i even want a boyfriend.”
kento gawked at you for a moment, lips slightly parted, before he shook his head, another snort of a laugh leaving him. “you’re so confusing.”
“you should be relieved. wouldn’t you be miserable if i started dating gojo?” you were only teasing him, bumping his shoulder with your own, a playful grin on your face.
but kento’s voice was gentle when he returned his answer, and the relief was evident on his face. “i would.”
whether you knew it then, or not, that little confession had changed the course of your life. you brushed it off easily, gripping your cursed tool tightly as you turned the corner again.
“hey kento?”
“what? the curses are going to sneak up on us if—”
“you’re my best friend, by the way. even if i was dating gojo, you’d still be my best friend. you’ll always be my best friend.” you stopped him, serious now. “no matter what happens.”
kento smiled softly, barely there at all. he squeezed your hand in return. “i hope so.”
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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Yandere Pyramid Headcanons
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Warnings: Possessive Behaviour, Unhealthy Behaviour, Pyramid also exists in the version of Silent Hill before the Church Bell Rings, Mention of Physical Attack on Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.
Possessive ahh monster man.
Keeps you in a safe, isolated location far from the epicentre of the town so that the only monster you’re at risk of is him.
Scary dog privileges :>
Does anything and everything you ask him to, no matter how trivial the task. Unless you ask him to let you go outside.
Even if the other creatures aren’t wandering around and prowling the streets at that moment, he refuses to let you out.
Unless you give him the puppy dog eyes, which, to his absolute confusion, he found himself unable to resist.
But only once.
You used Pyramid’s weakness for cuteness against him and, when he heard a sound in the distance – the all-too familiar ringing of church bells – and turned to face the origin, you took your chance to escape.
You knew the monsters would come as the world around you peeled, revealing a hellish, rust-ridden, infested reality which, in your terror-stricken state, you didn’t think you’d be around long enough to be at risk of.
Of course, you were cornered.
Of course, just as you were about to become a commemorative name and face on a t-shirt at the hands of a monstrosity, Pyramid Head stepped in and wiped that jittering, straight-jacketed bastard off every map there was, physical and spectral.
Much like the very day he met you. Took you (for what purpose, you still do not know).
He’s never let you out of his sight since.
Keeps you by his side when he’s on a supply run since he can’t trust you to remain in the safety of whatever building he’s fortified.
You might not know it, given his involuntarily stoicism, but Pyramid Head is constantly watching you.
Sure, you may get the feeling you’re being watched, but in a town like Silent Hill, that’s practically a birthright.
And besides, Pyramid doesn’t have any eyes…you think ? So how can he possibly be watching you ?
If you try to chance your arm and run away, he uses his knife as a deterrent.
Slams it down right where you’d be if you had been a second quicker.
He’d never hit you. Not intentionally.
His strength and eternity of wielding the blade makes it as easy to control it as if it were his arm, or an extra limb.
But you don’t need to know that.
He’s lowkey a sucker for physical contact btw.
Once, he found you standing closer to him than usual when the day grew particularly cold.
He wasn’t sure what you were doing at first until you flat-out muttered about “How frigid” it was.
Clouds seemed to form before your face, a human anomaly Pyramid hadn't witnessed this close before. If ever.
This man has no clue how to help you, so he just kind of watched as you gave him a wide-eyed look and, quivering, approaching him as if he were a feral dog (why did you look so scared of him…?), leaned against his side.
He shifted, jumped, stepped back.
What was this feeling ?
His heart spiked, his skin prickled.
Alarmed, you sprang back, and he couldn’t articulate the response to tell you to stay, come back, I’m sorry.
When the two of you finally resumed your journey to nowhere, he walked a little closer to you, inching nearer every few minutes until his hand brushed your side.
And you didn’t pull away :> !
Eventually, when you grew tired, you settled in a decrepit little room that, much like the rest of the town, looked as if it would fall apart if you so much as gave it a mean look.
In a rare act of humanity, Pyramid sat beside you.
And he damn near jumped out of his skin (again) when, unprovoked, you leaned against him.
He made sure not to spook you. Not again.
He couldn’t handle that wounded stare you’d given him earlier. It made him feel…weak. Vulnerable. Human.
And he did not enjoy it.
Well, that's what he thought at first. Before the warmth of something unidentifiable settled in his chest.
From then on, he started taking you out during the colder hours of the day just for the chance to have your skin brush against his.
And each time, that feeling, that tightness in his chest, would spark, set him alight with a fluttering sensation he'd never known before he found you.
Until you got sick. Then he toned it down a little.
But only because he couldn’t enjoy his solitary walks to where he knew medicine lay, too concerned with wondering why you were jerking, and why you sounded like you were roaring whenever you opened your mouth and your eyes squeezed shut, or why liquid would pour out of your nose.
Bless him, he doesn’t know what a cold – or sickness – is. But he does know that, when you lay on top of him and basically used him as your bed, curling up on his chest, he thought he’d seen light.
Real light.
Has resisted the urge to try and make you ill again just for that purpose.
Luckily, your random acts of affection – hand holding (or finger holding, since your entire hand could wrap around one of his fingers),  nuzzling, leaning on him, saying “Thank you” whenever he returned with the supplies – keeps his unhealthy tendencies at bay.
Well, most of them at least.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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sgtgarricks · 2 months
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i want your hands on me for all my life
simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst, happy ending, mentions of simon's abusive past, talks about death, mentions of soap's death, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie!!, simon lets himself be happy yay
reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3
PREVIOUS PART: your gentle hands are enough
notes: this is the 2nd part for the people that want a happy ending :) this turned out sooo long LMFAO if you want to be sad just pretend this doesn't exist and read the other one! your feedback & comments help <3
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Simon had always excelled at compartmentalizing his emotions ever since he was a child.
Growing up with an abusive father and an older brother who has hell-bent on scaring him had forced him to develop self-preservation tactics in order to survive their torment. Dissociating was a daily occurrence in his childhood years — it helped Simon escape the pain and torment that was being inflicted on his body.
Being in the military has not been that different.
He was still dissociating, but he was no longer on the receiving end of thrown punches and insults. He was now the perpetrator inflicting agony on his enemies for the good of the world. To rid the world of filth.
Simon Riley had become the ultimate soldier — lethal, swift, quiet, and was immune to the horrors of war, which was no surprise considering he had spent most of his childhood learning to lock away all the negative emotions. The ability had become innate, bleeding into his daily life and in turn, his relationships.
When Simon walked out the door, he had left all the hurt and sadness in the apartment with you. He trusted you'd keep a part of him safe until he came back and even if he didn't.
Simon had whole-heartedly accepted the risk that comes with the job, fully prepared to lay his life down if it meant a better world than yesterday. In fact, Simon knew death more intimately more than anyone. He'd knocked on death's door multiple times but always seemed to come out alive.
It was easy for him to not think of you. The anxious voice inside his head becomes static as he engrossed himself in the mission. The hard part comes when the dust has settled — when all that remain are cold corpses and bullet casings.
Sitting in the helicopter all bloodied accompanied by the sound of whirring blades wasn't usually bad. It would give him time to sit down and process his emotions. It let him feel the slight guilt that never goes away when taking a life — no matter how rotten.
But with each mission he went on after his abrupt departure, he finds himself constantly ruminating his entire reason for not wanting to get into a relationship with you.
Simon had wanted you to move on from him when he died, eventually. Forget the bruised and battered soldier and find someone whole, someone who could be there for you and love you without causing you anxiety every time their phone rang.
He thought himself selfless for trying to spare you, but his entire reason collapses with every mission he comes back alive.
What was his excuse now? What was he protecting you from?
The voices slink back into his mind the moment he gains a moment of peace. Whispers planting seeds of doubt in his mind, feeding on his insecurity and his fears. They're ruthless and persistent.
You don't deserve them. They're too good for you. You're going to leave them one day anyway, why bother?
He feels a tightness in his chest, as if a phantom hand was squeezing his heart that sends pulses of pain through him. His hand shakes slightly, fingers moving absent-mindedly trying to remember the feel of your skin.
"You alright, Lieutenant?" His captain's voice breaks him out of his trance. Simon is slightly startled but doesn't let it show. He merely grunts.
"'M alright."
Silence engulfs them once more. It goes one for one, two, maybe three minutes. It's suffocating. Simon can read people well enough by now that he knows there are questions lingering in the back of John Price's mind.
A part of Simon wishes he'd just spit it out, but the thought of having to explain seemed worse. Instead, Simon settles with a silent huff as the helicopter continues on its designated course.
The second the helicopter landed, Price simply nods at him, trusting him to get his shit together and walks off to his office. Simon does his usual routine, though instead of rushing through the motions, he's intentionally prolonging each action.
Whereas normally he couldn't get out of this place faster, now he almost dreaded the moment he would have to leave. Staying at the base meant monotonous, dull, predictable tasks. Leaving means he has to choose where to go — he has to actively force himself to not drive straight to your apartment despite the fact that every fiber in his being longs to be close to you.
He feels sick, a kind of illness spreading inside of him that only ever felt better when you were around him. A dull ache inside his body that only lights up when you touch him.
He runs a hand to his now damp hair, content with sitting on a sofa in the rec room. Normally, the place would be bustling with recruits goofing around with each other. But one glance at the broodier-than-normal look on the lieutenant's face had created a force field that pushed away everyone as to not get caught in its storm.
Simon doesn't know how long he sits there, half of him trying to convince himself to not come to you. That you don't deserve the broken man with a penchant for violence.
Chuckling lowly to himself, he shakes his head. What kind of demented higher power decided someone as kind as you be plucked and dropped into his sights?
Fifteen minutes went by as he pities himself in the rec room before a shadow in his peripheral vision causes him to look up.
"L.T.," Kyle nods towards him, leaning on the doorframe.
"Garrick." Simon grunts dismissively, not saying anything more. He hops the sergeant will take the hint on his own and leave the miserable bastard to his own devices.
Kyle worries for Simon. The brooding giant seems more miserable than usual — not more than after the incident, but still. Typically, he wouldn't even be able to catch a glimpse of his lieutenant after coming back from deployment. He'd usually opt to disappear from the base in record time.
The fact that he's here now, instead of wherever he usually hangs around, is slightly concerning.
"You alright, L.T.?"
Simon turns to him, slightly annoyed. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Yes, I'm alright." He huffs. Kyle merely shrugs, unbothered by the icy gaze directed at him.
"Well, seeing as you haven't fucked off from the base yet and it's been," Kyle checks his phone for the time, "Around an hour? I'd wager something is wrong."
Sometimes Simon hated how observant Gaz was. Kyle's always been attentive, even more so now without Johnny's presence. It wasn't a secret that Johnny had been the lieutenant's shadow — always lingering near him, cracking jokes and pulling his leg.
His absence had naturally left a gaping void in Simon, oozing all the pain and hurt that comes with losing a comrade. Simon isn't naive, he knows death comes as a package with being in the battlefield. He's seen his fellow soldiers die, held them as they bled out. It was why he tended to keep to himself. After all, the less people you know, the less funerals you have to go to.
This worked most of the time, anyone who got close to Simon would get his arctic stare and cower off — most of the time anyway. Johnny was a different case. Johnny was a little bit of a nutcase to be honest. A talented, bright, pyromaniac, the youngest ever to pass SAS selection, with an arsenal of jokes in his pockets. The blue-eyed Scotsman got along quickly with Kyle, bantering with each other easily as if they had been long-lost friends.
While Johnny still had reservations about dicking around with the captain, he didn't seem to have the same problem with Simon. Seemingly happy to chatter off in his ear about anything, whether it was about shitty food, a lady he picked up from a bar, or jabs directed at Simon.
Johnny's bright disposition put Simon on edge. He wasn't used to seeing someone not be terrified of him. No matter how many glares he sent him, the bugger wouldn't leave him alone. Johnny would continue to go out of his way to talk to Simon, to sit next to him during lunch, and sometimes, Johnny would even manage to get Simon to open up just a little.
"What's on yer mind, L.T.?" Johnny nudged Simon with his elbow. The two men were both sat at the bar, the TV playing an old recording of a football match. It had taken Johnny ten minutes to convince Simon to go out for drinks and he planned on taking full advantage of it.
Johnny had been talking non-stop for around five minutes about his sister who had just gotten married, waiting for a reaction from Simon who seemed distracted. His eyes had strayed to the other side of the bar a few times, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but Johnny was anything but.
"Nothin'." Simon had grunted, tearing his gaze away. A giant smirk plastered itself onto Johnny's face.
"Ah, been starin' at the sad one across the bar, aye?" Seeing Simon's eye widen a little had made Johnny even more gleeful. "Go on then. Ye have my full permission to ditch me tonight." He teased, winking at his lieutenant.
"Don't know what you're talking about, Johnny." Simon had denied instantly, taking a sip of his drink. A normal person would have left it at that, but Johnny wasn't your average person. He loved starting fires and Simon was a flame he wanted to see lit.
"Ach, come on L.T. what's the harm, eh? A little bit of flirting never hurt anyone." Simon didn't know this but Johnny wasn't going to let this go. It was the first time Johnny had ever seen Simon show interest in someone and he'd do anything to get Simon to at the very least, talk to them.
"They're a civvy, Johnny. Not gonna take any chances." Simon shook his head adamantly.
"That's bollocks! All we do is take risks anyway, at least on this one the worst that could happen is getting a drink thrown in yer face." Johnny chuckles, peering at the person across the bar who was clearly nursing a broken heart. Simon still made no move to get up from his chair.
Praying to whatever God was listening, Johnny hoped Simon wouldn't kill him after what he was going to do. Calling over the bartender, Johnny slid the man a fifty.
"Mate, give 'em a refill yeah? Tell 'em it's from the big bloke over here." Johnny signaled the bartender. Simon, who had finally processed what Johnny was doing, couldn't even get a word in. The bartender hastily took the money and went back to his station, ignoring Simon's call.
Simon could only watch in despair as the bartender presented the drink and pointed towards Simon. He received a shy smile, a mouthed 'thank you', and an expectant look.
"Now you've got to go there, mate. Otherwise you'll look like an arsehole!" Johnny threw his arms up, grinning triumphantly. The sergeant crossed his arms and wiggled his eyebrows.
Simon could've easily ignored Johnny and went back to his drink. But a part of him couldn't deny that he wanted to go over there and maybe talk to someone else that wasn't Scottish for a change. Against his usual logic, Simon decided to stand up from his chair.
"You're an arsehole." A glare was sent Johnny's way, although it had no weight behind them. As Simon began to walk away, he could hear Johnny laughing loudly.
"Yer welcome!"
Simon had never told Johnny you were the person who had been texting him during deployment, but he knew deep down that Johnny already knew. He'd asked multiple times, even tried sneaking a look.
He simply didn't want to admit that Johnny forcing him to talk to you that day had shifted Simon's world. He wished he told Johnny.
"We all miss him, L.T." Kyle's soft voice spoke again. He's closer now, dragging a chair from a table and sitting in front of Simon. Kyle knew he could never fill the giant void that Johnny left, but he felt a sense of responsibility to at least try. Price had become more closed off after his death whereas Simon had slowly been unraveling, little stitches coming loose a day at a time.
"All we can do is make sure it's not in vain." Simon sighs, hearing Kyle's words, knows he's right. That he can't go back to expecting the worst all the time, constantly on edge.
Johnny had breathed life into his ghostly presence, bringing Simon back into the realm of the living. The more Johnny got out of the lieutenant, the more people were able to see that Simon wasn't merely a visage, a ghost roaming the hallway. That he was a real person.
He was throwing away his chance at a second life. Perhaps it was also a twisted way of Simon punishing himself. If he couldn't save Johnny, couldn't save the man who managed to get him to talk to you, then he didn't deserve you. It was a round-about way of him trying to mend off the guilt eating away at him that had inadvertently claimed another victim.
"Thank you, sergeant." Simon stood up. Clapping his hand on Kyle's shoulder.
I see you.
"Don't mention it, sir."
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The drive to your house takes around twenty minutes, which means that's all the time Simon has to try and figure out a way to atone for his sins.
They're too gracious to even hold a grudge against you. A small part of Simon tells him. While he hopes that's true, he still wants to apologize and acknowledge how unfair he's been to you. If not to make you feel better, at the very least it will ease his conscience.
He drums his finger on the steering wheel, the radio turned on but on low volume. For once, Simon wishes he had Johnny's ability to get out of problems with his alluring words and his kicked-puppy look.
Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't even realized he's been sitting in his parked car for a few minutes. He clasps his hands when he realizes they're shaking. God, he was so terrified. Not of you, no. He was scared of having to see what he's done to you. Is terrified of really seeing the carnage Simon Riley had tore in you.
He lets out a bated breath and opens the car door. He knows you're home by now, probably cooking away while listening to some indie band. Resting his head on your door, he braces himself once more, and knocks.
He waits, the seconds feeling like hours. The door swings open and he sees your surprised face.
"Simon." You compose yourself immediately, not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of him. Something twitches on the corners of his mouth hidden by the balaclava. As if realizing he's still wearing it, he takes it off.
"Can I come in?" He asks timidly, as if approaching a wounded animal. He had no idea how you'd react after him being gone for so long. Even during his three month deployments, he'd sometimes text you once every fortnight. But after the way he left things, he couldn't bring himself to message you at all. Couldn't even stomach the thought of you still pining over him after what he had done. It was easier for him to simply block your number. Photos of sunsets and coffee cups gathering dust in his photo album, unsent.
You didn't even think about it, your body unconsciously moving sideways to let him in. A part of you screams at yourself.
Idiot, show some dignity.
It had been so easy for you to let the man who had left you for six months without a word back into your apartment, into your life.
You felt like an addict. Constantly begging for your next fix and taking whatever scraps are thrown your way. It's pitiful, but you're too far gone, anyway. His dirty boots make contact with your hardwood floor, leaving small specks of mud on them. Simon notices the frown marring your face and begins to unlace his boots.
"Sorry." He apologizes, neatly tucking away his muddy boots at the side of your door. You close the door behind him, making your way towards your kitchen. The plate clatters loudly in the sink as you haphazardly put them away, clearly rattled.
Simon coughs slightly, words stuck in his throat. He'd prepared a small speech earlier yet all the words seem to escape him. All the courage he had mustered for his little speech all had but disappeared into thin air. He feels out of his depths, not used to being vulnerable.
"What are you doing here, Simon?" Your voice sounds so tired. He supposes he was to blame for that.
"Can we talk?" He sends you a pleading look, hoping you still felt a sliver of the love you used to harbor for him — the only thing stopping you from kicking him out.
"Oh, so after blocking me and radio silence for six months you've decided you want to talk?" The bitterness seeps into your words like venom. He can't even make himself physically recoil from the sharp edge of your tone. Simon can feel the thin rope right beneath his feet, one wrong step and he'd be falling off the edge.
He takes a deep breath. "I deserve that."
"Oh, you deserve more than that Simon Riley. I should kick you out right now." You were huffing now, going slightly red in the face. Had he not been so anxious he might've thought you look cute. But right now? He was downright terrified.
"Just-" Simon pinches his nose bridge, calming himself down. "Let me speak for a moment, yeah? After that if you want me to leave, I'll leave." He holds both his hands up.
You were livid, rightfully so. The man you love had essentially decided he didn't want to communicate with you anymore, breaking your heart. The first week you thought maybe something had happened to his phone, broken it maybe?
As the weeks turned into months, the realization dawned on you that he had purposefully blocked you, cut off all contact. At first there was only sadness. You spent your days crying into your blanket, some days barely functioning. The hurt and betrayal had emotionally drained you. Did all those years mean nothing to him?
You knew he had a hard time expressing his emotions, but never in your wildest dreams did you think he would throw you away just like that. Like you were nothing more to him than a good fuck. Despite your head telling you otherwise, the emotional baggage he had left you with didn't leave much option.
It was easier to hate him than to accept maybe he didn't love you at all.
You spent the first few months cursing into the wind hoping it'd somehow hurt him a fraction of how much he hurt you. Afterwards, the pain became a lingering , dull ache, but not debilitating anymore. It became a constant that you carry everyday.
Kicking him out the door was tempting, but you knew it wouldn't do you any good. If anything, the words left unsaid would become a leech — slowly draining away your curiosity until you eventually leave another voicemail.
You give him a pointed stare before sitting down on the couch. Simon slowly approached you, wanting nothing more than to sit next to you but choosing to sink into the other side of the couch. He sees you cross your arms, feeling more uncomfortable by the second.
"I jus' wanna say that I'm sorry." He stares into your eyes, slouched with elbows on his thighs. Seeing your mouth thin into a line, Simon knows he's going to have to do a lot better.
"When Johnny died..." Your eyes widen, arms slacking slightly. He'd talk about Johnny sometimes but sometime ago had entirely stopped mentioning his name altogether. You had suspected something terrible had happened but you didn't want to believe it.
"I was so angry. It's not fair. He was so young, had his whole future ahead of him. Told me he was gonna see his sister's newborn on his next leave." He breathes out, clenching his fists.
"All of that, gone. We haven't even caught the bastard yet." Simon runs an exasperated hand through his face. Your arms were no longer crossed, choosing to fiddle with the edge of your shirt. You wanted to comfort him so badly, wanted to take him into your arms and tell him everything's going to be okay. But he was still pouring his heart out and you wanted to greedily snatch every piece he was willing to give.
"I had constant nightmares for months. Sometimes, I still do. You're just a heavy sleeper, I suppose." He chuckles and catches the way the edge of your mouth turn up.
"It's never easy, losing someone. It changes you. I used to hear his nonsense almost everyday and now it's just not there. I'm terrified one day it'll be like he was never there at all." Simon looks away, blinking tears away.
"But he was there. I know that. I felt him. He was like the fucking sun, but instead of being 150 million kilometers away, he's next to my ear with his Scottish nonsense." Simon chuckles bitterly, reminiscing the times when Johnny had to translate his gibberish.
You stay quiet, letting him speak freely. You had a feeling where this was going and how Johnny's death had indirectly impacted your relationship.
"If I died tomorrow, would you be okay?" His question catches you off guard. It was a question you've pondered a thousand times before, and every time you only ever came up with one answer.
"No." You answer honestly, because you'd break either way. Whether it was tomorrow or a year from now. You can feel a part of Simon in your bloodstream that if he died, some part of you would die with him.
"I only ever wanted you to be okay." He straightens, testing the waters by moving closer to you. You let him.
"Would you prefer if I never loved you at all?" Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest you worried he could hear it.
"No." His answer was immediate, as if he'd never been as sure before. "Not selfless enough for that."
"Then are you selfless enough to accept that I would want it to hurt?" You put your hand on top of his, gently grasping them within yours. Simon feels the broken pieces of him mending together.
He's quiet, not sure how to respond. He didn't use to understand why people would put themselves on the line, but he's starting to.
"If you died, I'd want it to hurt. I'd want it to take my breath away. I'd want it to keep me awake at night. I'd want every single bone in my body to ache when you're gone, because that would mean I have loved you with all of me."
You don't realize you'd started crying. There was no distance anymore between you and Simon. His thigh pressed against yours as you clutch his hand to your chest.
"I want it to hurt so badly, because I want to love you deeply." Tears were streaming freely down your face you couldn't even stop them even if you wanted to.
"Simon, will you let me hurt for you?"
And he lets you.
"Okay." His hand go to engulf your frame, but you had thrown yourself at him before he managed to. Simon can feel his shirt getting wet, he'd never thought he'd be slightly happy over the fact that you were crying.
Everything's going to be okay.
Your head was now on his collarbone, his palm gently holding you there. You feel a kiss on the top of your head as he strokes it.
Neither of you know how long you simply cried on him, much less when you ended up on his lap. When he heard you stop — tired from the energy you exerted, he slowly rearranges his body so that you are able to lie fully on top of him. His sore back is the last thing on his mind as he sees your peacefully sleeping away.
A pounding headache eventually woke you. You weren't sure if last night really happened or if your mind had conjured a scenario where Simon came back for you. However, the sweltering heat you feel on your midsection proves otherwise.
He really was here.
His eyes were closed, seeming to be asleep. You test the waters, placing your palm on the left side of his face. A hand immediately darts towards your hand and keeps it there.
"Put some pills on your nightstand for the headache." He murmurs, eyes still closed. His face turns slightly, placing a kiss on your palm. Even after half a year away, he still knows you like the back of his hand.
Leaning in, you give him a peck on the cheek. As much as you want to drink in the sight of him, there were more pressing matters at hand. You need the reassurance. You need him to tell you he wasn't going to abandon you again.
"Simon, did you mean it?" You can't get the entire words out, can only hope it was enough to convey your tumultuous emotions. His heart aches that you don't believe him, but he understands.
"I love you, sweetheart." Soft lips descend upon your own, barely brushing.
"'M here to stay as long as you want me here." He sneaks a hand under you, pulling you closer to him. There isn't any part of you that's not connected to him in some way.
He was so warm, scorching you inside out. You wanted his flame to burn every inch of your skin. When he left, everything felt cold to the bone, your life turning into muted blues and grays.
Simon brought warmth into your life, with his little acts of service. With the little trinkets he brings back after deployment because it reminded him of you. With his gentle hands, gentle kisses — his gentle self.
"I love you, Si." You whisper, grabbing him by the neck and lowering your lips onto his. Brushing softly, you were going to pull away when Simon lets out a moan. Heat builds inside of you as you slip your tongue inside his open mouth. He grunts in surprise, holding you still for a second. But you're impatient.
"Need you." You whine, "Want you so much, Si."
"Yeah?" He mumbles against your lips, running his hands through your hair gently.
"Thought I'd be in the dog house much longer than that, love." He teases you. Simon yelps slightly when you retaliate by biting on his lower lip. He grips both your cheeks with his fingers, pushing you away from him.
"That wasn't very nice of you, hmm?" He gently shakes your head, grinning handsomely. "Think you need a little lesson in being nice, sweetheart. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent teacher." He leans in and kisses your puckered lips, working his way downwards.
His hands wander everywhere, working themselves underneath your shirt. You feel goosebumps rise where his fingertips lay, shivering under his hold.
"Missed you so much, Si. Please." Your moans echo throughout the room. He's holding your thighs together as he trails down your body as you writhe.
"Missed you too, love. Fuck, missed you so fucking much." He manages to say. He cups your ass as he mouths at your panty-covered mound. Your juices seep through the fabric, making Simon groan.
"Mmm.. Someone missed me too." He runs his tongue up and down your slit as you cross both your legs behind his neck. He felt you clench your thighs and he feels blood rushing downwards. Turning his head slightly to the right, he nips lightly at your inner thigh.
He'd barely touched you but here you are already begging for it. Simon Riley has you wrapped around his finger and it scares you a little how much of a hold he has on you. You had bared your neck so openly for him and he had bit down the first chance he got.
"Will you let me take care of you, love? Make you feel good." He hums, fingers trailing along your inner thigh waiting for permission. You nod fervently before realizing he can't see you.
"Yes, yes, yes. Need you to take care of me, Si." Your heart was beating fast out of anticipation.
"Yeah? I'll make you feel good, baby." He coos at you as his fingers slowly pull down your panties. Strings of your juices were sticking to the insides. He threw them aimlessly, eyes zeroed in on your wet pussy.
His finger runs through your folds, making squelching noises. "All this for me, hmm?" He tilts his head up, pinching when you don't reply immediately. The sudden sensation makes you whimper.
"All for you, Si. Just for you." You were panting heavily as Simon sucks your clit into his mouth and licks in a circular motion. You thread your fingers in his hair, not tugging harshly.
Simon laps at your pussy like a starved man, burying his entire face in your warmth. He moans between every few licks, the taste of you dazing him. Your eyes glaze over as you see the man you love pleasuring you with earnest. He continues for a while, alternating his focus between your bud and your folds.
When you tug at his shirt impatiently, Simon grunts. He gets up and throws his shirt over his head. Not one second after it's off, you begin to paw at him, desperate to feel every inch of him.
Simon thinks he's never seen such a beautiful sight. Your hair was messy from your movements, eyes hazy as he can feel goosebumps on his body where you stare. He grabs your face and kisses you desperately, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. His clothed bulge was grinding messily against your wet pussy as his boxers begin to darken from the wetness.
Simon's whimper fill the room when he feels you grinding upwards to rub yourself on his cock. He pulls from your lips with a string of saliva. Not waiting for him, you scramble to take off your shirt, baring your tits to him.
His eyes drink in the state of you greedily, one hand groping your tits as the other travels down to your pussy. You were beyond wet enough for his cock, but he's determined to make you cum on his fingers first.
Two fingers slip into you gently. The stretch catches you off guard, it's been a while since you've had his thick fingers probing inside you. His fingers were thrusting shallowly as you grind on his palm.
"Fuck, Simon. Feels so good." You babble, barely able to keep your eyes open, the pleasure overwhelming your senses.
"Yeah? Gonna make you feel even better." With that, his fingers thrust deeper into you, massaging your spot. Your back arches as Simon plants his face on your chest, sucking on your nipples.
He crooks his fingers slightly as he continues thrusting, his palm touching your clit with each time. You couldn't stay still anymore, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts.
The room was filled with wet, squelching noises and your combined moans. Your hands were gripping his bicep, feeling the large muscle flex under your fingertips.
His thick fingers continue his ministration as you begin to climb higher and higher. Your walls begin to pulse and constrict his fingers. Sweat drips down his forehead as he continues to drive into your pussy with his deft fingers.
"You gonna cum on my fingers, love?" He teases, placing kisses all over your damp face.
"Yes, oh fuck. Please, please let me cum."
Simon grins against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over. His fingers begin to speed up even faster, hitting your sweet spot with every effort. You feel the familiar tingling sensation begin to build in your core.
Your legs begin to tremble as you struggle to get air inside of your lungs. Panting harshly, you close your eyes as your orgasm starts to reach its peak.
His hand leaves your tits as they begin to rub circles on your clit. The combined assault on your clit and your pussy brings you over the edge.
"Look at me when you cum." Your eyes open immediately as you find him staring directly into yours. Your legs tremble deliciously, hands gripping Simon even tighter as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Mouth agape, your back continues to arch as Simon doesn't stop, overstimulating you with a few shallow thrusts.
Simon's hand was covered in your juices as he slowly withdraws them. Your pussy clenches, feeling empty. He brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips. Obediently, you open your lips and let him slide his fingers inside your mouth.
Circling your tongue all finger, your eyes begin to close again. When you blink them open, you see Simon's bare body hovering above yours. His cock was standing proudly, shiny with precum. You feel the urge to take his cock into your mouth. When your hand tries to reach for him, it's stopped by his firm grip.
"Next time, yeah? Need to fuck your pretty pussy, baby." He slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping them on his hip. He repositions his cock at your pussy, sliding the head up and down your folds.
Tilting your head down, you see Simon's hand grip his cock firmly as it slowly rubs his precum all over your pussy. He groans seeing your juices mix together. Moving your hips upwards, you try to push his head in and he hisses.
He grabs your hips and gently lowers them on the bed. "You just lay there and take it, yeah? Let me do all the work." You preen, more than happy to lay there and see him move above you.
"Put it in, Si. Missed your cock so much." You whimper, pressing delicate kisses on his neck. He nudges your nose with his, capturing your lips into a kiss. Your moan gets interrupted by your own grunt of surprise as the head of his cock slips in.
His cock was thicker than his two fingers, with veins running all over the shaft rubbing your walls deliciously. You link your legs behind his waist, helping him push deeper.
When he's inside you, it's like two pieces of puzzle fitting together. His cock fit so perfectly inside you, as if you were made for him and him for you. You knew Simon was it for you a long time ago, falling head over heels so easily for the grumpy soldier. You weren't happy at how long it took him to come to his senses, but you're glad either way.
He thrusts slowly, going deeper with each shift of his hips. His tongue tangles with yours as wet noises fill the room. You know when he's pushed in to the hilt when you feel him bump against your cervix slightly. Your pussy clenches at the tiny pain, causing Simon to moan out.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so well, sweetheart." He stays there for a moment, grinding his cock inside. You only stop kissing when you pull away to beg him to start moving. Both his hands are placed firmly on your hips when he begins thrusting.
He moves back and forth slowly, the walls of your pussy feeling every drag of his big cock. You hiss against his mouth, the sensation lights up every nerve in your body. You beg him to go faster but he ignores you, continuing to sink slowly.
When you're about to wail at the pace again, he thrusts sharply — his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You gasp, clawing his back when he continues to move slowly but going deep with each thrust. You can hear the sound of his balls smacking against your ass.
Your combined juices were dripping out of your pussy, causing wet noises whenever he moves inside you. You don't know how long he continues his brutal motion, your eyes dazed and breath unsteady.
You've never felt this way before. It feels as if he's everywhere inside you, there isn't a part of you that doesn't feel touched by him. He thrusts as if he's trying to imprint himself in you, trying to permanently leave a mark.
"Such a pretty pussy. Doing so well f' me, sweetheart. You gonna let me cum in you? Gonna let me fill you up nicely?" He grunts, his composure starting to unravel. His cock begins to piston in you messily as he loses himself in your pussy.
"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, love you so much, Si. Need your cum in me." You cry out desperately, tightening your legs and pulling him deeper inside you.
"So good to me, love. Letting me cum in your pretty pussy." His form begins to shake slightly from exertion. You know his hands were going to bruise your hips from how hard he was gripping them but you couldn't care less.
Your body moves up and down from the force of his thrust. His cock touching your cervix with each delicious thrust. Your pussy begins to pulse wildly on his cock as you feel another orgasm build inside you. When his cock begins to pulse, your eyes roll to the back of your head as it sends you over the edge. You moan out his name loudly, pulling him by the neck to your chest as his arms hug you to him.
You feel his desperation and love when he holds you. He hugs you so tight to him your ribs ache. You never want this feeling to go away.
"I love you so much, fuck." Your orgasm triggers his own, his cock pulsing as his creamy load fills up your pussy. He's so snug inside your pussy the excess cum begins to drip out. When he stops unloading inside you, he moves slowly, thrusting a few times shallowly. A part of him wants to look at the way his seed drips from your pussy but he didn't want to move away from you.
You both pant with eyes closed as your breathing begins to even out. Simon slowly pulls out and you hiss at the feel of his cock leaving you empty. You look down and see his cock covered in his cum and yours.
Your head falls back down to the pillow, eyes closing shut. Simon stares at the ceiling and huff, righting himself. You feel him plant a kiss to your forehead as the bed dips.
"'M gonna go clean us up, yeah? You stay there." You hear him step into the bathroom, going to wash himself and grab a clean towel to clean up your mess. By the time he came back, you had already passed out, judging by the sound of your low snores.
He begins to wipe your thighs and try to dry the surrounding areas as best he can. He'll change the sheets later when you're well-rested. Simon climbs into bed, hugging you to him. He runs his fingers through your hair, slowly unknotting them one by one.
He stares at your sleeping from and grins. Lowering his lips to yours, he keeps them there for a few seconds.
"I love you."
You can only mumble in response, too tired to properly articulate the words.
"I love you too, Simon."
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reginnaofallwaters · 4 months
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☆ HONKAI: STAR RAIL
things that changed since they met you (gn!reader)
featuring: argenti, blade, dan heng, jing yuan
a/n: first time writing for blade and dan heng. might be ooc? oopsie. some of the guys already have an established relationship and some don't :>
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☆ ARGENTI
He finds himself falling silent as he admires your beauty.
Argenti is a man of many words. If there is one thing he never runs out of, it's compliments. Constant, sincere compliments stream forth from his lips like a waterfall everytime he sees you. In his eyes, there are so many words in this universe that he can use to describe your beauty. He genuinely loves you and what better way to show it other than the blush-inducing and cheesy compliments he constantly gives?
However, there are times where he falls silent as he gazes at you when you two would be cuddling or you're doing something. It feels a little.. odd sometimes. There's no sudden compliments that are thrown your way or praises sung to your name. It's these moments where he is silent when his gaze is so intense— his emerald eyes practically swimming with devotion and so, so much love for you.
When you softly chuckle and ask why he's staring, he'd only shoot you a charming smile like the lovesick fool he is. He'd tell you it's nothing to worry about, that he's simply appreciating you.
Argenti's praises for you never end but sometimes, beauty is best appreciated in silence.
☆ BLADE
The mara in him dwindles a little by your side.
Immortality comes with a price, Blade learnt that the hard way. Now an immortal, unable to die, and stricken with mara that slowly eats away at his mind, he has to rely on Kafka's Spirit Whisper to keep his mind intact— to keep himself sane. A part of him envies the short-lived, you know. One day, they will get to experience the release he craves so desperately.
Being mara-struck is difficult. Memories of his past always return to haunt him, driving him mad. That's where you come along. Though he's distant, he finds comfort in your presence. Something about you feels safe and warm, helping his mind to ease, to forget the past memories that bubbles in his mind. With you, he feels as though the mara takes a lesser toll in his mind.
He doesn't know why he finds your presence so comforting, but he does know that he needs to keep you safe, though you're perfectly capable of handling yourself. Blade doesn't get too close to you at first, but he keeps an eye on you.
Blade knows that eventually, he'll meet his end– his release, and he doesn't want you to see him go after getting close to you.
☆ DAN HENG
His shy side comes out more often.
Dan Heng isn't the type to openly express his emotions like March 7th. He doesn't have a problem expressing his feelings, he's simply too reserved. Attempting to make Dan Heng laugh, blush, or cry will usually result in a very unimpressed expression gracing his features, which is somehow funnier than trying to make him express the three aforementioned emotions (The Trailblazer told you all about this little experiment with Dan Heng's range of emotions. You aren't too sure what to do with this information, honestly).
Amidst March 7th and the Trailblazer's (failed) attempts in making Dan Heng blush, you discreetly smile to yourself as you send a knowing glance in his direction, which is then returned with a narrowed glare from the man. Little do they know just how ridiculously easy it is to make Dan Heng flush like a tomato.
A surprise kiss on the lips gets him blinking in surprise and you relish in the way his cheeks slowly start to pink as he averts his gaze from you, muttering about something that you can't quite catch. He trusts you the most to.show these emotions of his that others rarely witness themselves. It doesn't matter to him if you tease him to death (much to his disappointment) or kiss him so much til he can't say a single word, as long as it's you.
He'd rather not let the others know though.
☆ JING YUAN
He allows himself to be vulnerable.
Being the Luofu's General is difficult. Though everyone calls him by his moniker as the "Dozing General", Jing Yuan is far more cunning and careful than he lets on. Beneath the lazy smile playing on his lips and the sleepy personality he shows, Jing Yuan never shows an ounce of vulnerability. He never lets his true thoughts and feelings slip. Unfortunately, Jing Yuan has always been quite evasive literally and figuratively.
Very few know of the human lying beneath the surface of the Dozing General. To be honest, Jing Yuan isn't the type to tell you, his partner, his problems either. It's his own way of protecting you from the dangers that the Xianzhou faces. That's why his vulnerability is all the more special to you. It's a testament to the trust he has in you. Though Jing Yuan has many allies, there are very few who know what he truly is thinking and feeling.
He doesn't say that he's worried, no. Instead, he seeks you out, pulling you in a tight embrace, a silent plea for you to stay– to comfort him for a little while. Each time, you oblige, leading him to somewhere more secluded and private so he can cuddle you to his heart's content. Nothing is said, but the atmosphere is comfortable and safe. Nothing is heard except for the soft chirps of the finches hiding in his hair and the content sighs that leaves his dry lips.
Until he gets his energy back, he'll allow himself to be vulnerable around you. Just for today.
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milksnake-tea · 4 months
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━━ duty calls.
Created around the same time and having trained with one another, you and Casper have always butted heads. You'd compete over seemingly anything - how many souls one could reap, the days one could go without catching soul sickness, and the list goes on. Casper has always found you to be obnoxious, but when he sees you crying by yourself, he finds himself torn.
grim x gn!reaper!reader
contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, set before the main storyline, reader is NOT the mc, brief mentions of child death, USAGE OF GRIM'S REAL NAME, reader is a little shit
word count: 4.2k
a/n: FORGIVE ME IF THE WORLDBUILDING IS OFF I WAS TRYING MY BEST and ive only done one ending oops (finals hurts okay :((( ) also ... im not sure if reapers names are classified just to mortals and not other reapers but ykw imma take my liberties
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"Seriously, do you ever get tired?"
Casper groaned irritatedly, running a hand through his snow-like hair. Blood like rust coated his scythe, spoils from his most recent hunt. The corpse still lay fresh in front of him, but their skin was cold and their eyes dead.
Boisterous laughter erupted above him. Sitting on the balcony of some person’s apartment, you grinned down at him - that infuriating, shit-eating grin that never failed to tick him off.
You kicked your legs childishly as you leaned back over the railing. Nestled against the crook of your arm was a scythe similar to his own, save for the more detailed design and color palette. Unlike him, you would constantly say, you liked to live a little.
Bold words coming from a bringer of death.
“Don’t blame me for you being slow,” you called down to him. Casper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he glared up at you.
“I am not ‘slow’,” he grumbled. “You’re too eager. And get down from there, you’ll be spotted.”
You tilted your head. “It’s like, 3 A.M. What kind of idiot’s gonna be awake at this hour?”
“You’d be surprised. Humans will do anything but take care of themselves.”
“I guess,” you sighed, jumping down. You twirled your scythe absentmindedly, Casper leaning back to avoid getting hacked to pieces.
“Be careful with that,” he scolded. You, of course, ignored him.
“So are these the last of the guys?” you wondered, kicking at a corpse with your foot.
The alleyway was practically lined with bodies, so many that management had called upon both you and Casper to deal with the remnants of the massacre. Gang fights were a pain to deal with, second only to pandemics and war.
“It would seem so.” Casper gave you a look, to which you responded by sticking out your tongue. You were very mature, after all.
You stretched thankfully, rolling out your shoulder. “Thank God, I was starting to get depressed from all the dead people.”
“If you’re getting depressed from just this, perhaps you should consider a different career choice.”
“Nah.” You smiled. “If I left, who would I bully? You’d get all sad and lonely without me.”
“Hardly,” Casper scoffed. “If anything, I’d be relieved.”
“You wound me.”
“Good.”
“So mean,” you pouted. Casper paid you no attention, as per usual. It didn’t matter, though, since you immediately perked back up. “Hey, boo?”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“I have an idea.” And just like that, your cheshire grin returned. Casper sighed, already beginning to walk off.
“How wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “Share it with someone else.”
“Uh-uh, no.” As quick as a flash, your scythe was out, the blade curving in front of Casper to prevent his escape. “This one’s good, I swear.”
“Your definition of what is and isn’t a good idea needs some desperate fixing.” Still, he made no move to escape, instead turning around to face you.
“Let’s race.”
Casper raised a brow. “Race?”
You nodded eagerly, your eyes shining like jewels. In the darkness of the alleyway, the two of you were illuminated only by the neon blue lights of the city. Yet, as that same blue was captured in your eyes, Casper was reminded of a kaleidoscope, changing and turning in a multitude of different colors.
It was… captivating.
“If I win, you have to buy me a drink.” 
Casper snapped out of his daze, a light flush blooming across his fair skin. Thankfully, though, you didn’t seem to notice, too entranced by another one of your ridiculous competitions. Seriously, there had to be a limit to how unprofessional you could be.
“You assume I have the time to buy you one,” he said with faux calmness, grateful for the night’s shadows hiding his complexion. You huffed.
“You could do it while you’re rebalancing yourself,” you said, as though it was obvious. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything big, just a coffee or a tea would be nice.”
“Fine, let’s say I stoop down to your level and agree to this… race,” said Casper. “What do I get if I win?”
You shrugged. “Then I'll just buy you a drink.”
Casper shook his head. “I’m not like you. I don’t drink on the job.”
“But you do cuddle an axolotl plushie when you sleep,” you pointed out. Instantly, Casper flushed red.
“Wha- What does that have to do with anything?!” he protested.
"I just thought about it randomly," you shrugged. "But seriously, that thing is huge, where did you get it?"
“Never mind how I got it," Casper crossed his arms and averted his eyes, his bottom lip turning up in a pout. “We’re getting off track.”
“Oh, so now you care about my games,” you teased. “Anyways, on how I’ll reward you…”
You spun your scythe back to your side, tapping its staff against the ground as you thought of a fitting reward.
“Oh! How about this?” You snapped your fingers, a figurative light bulb lighting up next to you. “You get to cash in one favor from me.”
“Any favor?” A smirk creeped onto Casper’s face, his interest finally piqued. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, [Name].”
“As long as it’s within reason and isn’t embarrassing,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “If you make me kiss your feet or something like that, I’ll kick your ass.”
“Of course,” Casper chuckled knowingly. “So, where to and when are we racing?”
“Hey, if you weren’t paying attention to the rules, then that's your fault. As for when the race starts, how about… now.”
“Wha- Hey!” Casper barely dodged as you shot past him in a blur of black. Hooking your scythe into the walls, you stuck out your tongue at him as you propelled yourself through the night.
“So long, Casp!”
Casper cursed under his breath. Quickly, he made haste to follow you. He flew through the air like a bird, twisting around light poles, skyscrapers, and billboards alike.
You weren’t as elegant, instead jumping from building to building like a modern superhero. You’d catapult yourself through the sky using your scythe as leverage, your laughter echoing in the slumbering city - free like the wind.
Casper didn’t have to follow you long to know where you were heading towards. Invisible to the mortal eye, yet painfully obvious to the eyes of reapers, was an entrance to the Underworld, a whirlpool of black and red that led straight down to your home.
As you launched yourself into the air once again, Casper came up next to you, his hair billowing in the cold night wind like smoke.
“Nice of you to join me,” you teased, elbowing him in the side. Casper rolled his eyes once again, speeding up. “Hey!”
Smoky tendrils of crimson and ink curled around your figures as the two of you neared the portal. The center of the whirlpool was a void seemingly leading to the abyss itself, but you’ve worked in this job long enough to know just what lay beneath.
True to his character, Casper wasted no time and shot straight into the thick of it. You, on the other hand, were a little more dramatic with your landing.
You spun in a backflip off of the last of the skyscrapers before letting gravity take you for a ride. Wind whistled past your ears as you fell, yet all you could hear was the rapid thump of your own heart. Adrenaline filled your veins. Soon, black and red lined your vision as the Underworld engulfed you.
The second you saw the tips of red-stained towers, you flipped yourself to face the ground. Closer and closer, you could practically taste it. If you delayed any longer, your life as a grim reaper could end prematurely.
Like the eyes of a devil, your pupils glowed in delight, activating your abilities. But rather than slowing your descent, you sped it up, shooting towards the ground like a missile.
Black blobs, the fuzzy images of your coworkers, scrambled to move out of your way. Turning your body, you landed hard on your heels, narrowly missing a fellow reaper.
For a moment, all you could see was dust. Before the clouds could disappear, you shook off the sting in your ankles and stretched.
“Woo!” you cheered, kicking your leg. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“Quiet down.” Casper grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. “Honestly, is there ever a quiet moment with you?”
You giggled. “Boo, you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that. Oh, by the way, I’m craving some-”
“Hold it.” Casper bonked your head. “I only agreed to buy you something if you won.”
“Didn’t I?”
“No you didn’t,” Casper retorted. “Anyone with working eyes could see that I reached the ground before you did. Therefore, I won.”
“Uh, no.” You crossed your arms. “Are you gaslighting me? You’re gaslighting me. That's not very nice of you, Casp.”
“I am not gaslighting you.” Your white-haired coworker rolled his eyes. “As grim reapers, we cannot lie. Someone of your caliber should know this.”
You blinked innocently. “Did you just compliment me?”
Casper spluttered. “What in the world made you come to that conclusion?”
Taking a step forward, you leaned towards the reaper, a cheeky smile growing on your face. “You said ‘Someone of your caliber’. That means you think I’m capable.”
“You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to be incompetent after working as a reaper for so long,” Casper crossed his arms, fighting down the blush rising onto his cheeks. You were close, way too close. “Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how that was the only thing you heard from what I said.”
Heaving a sigh, he pushed you away with his finger.
“But don’t distract yourself from the fact that I won the race,” he said, a smug smirk replacing his exasperation.
“I was honestly trying to forget.”
Casper huffed, a pout forming on his lips. But the moment wouldn’t last long, as a ding sounded from both of your phones. When you checked it, you groaned when you saw a notification of unexpected emergency.
“Seriously?” you complained. “Overtime? Did a bunch of reapers die off or something? My soul’s going to get tainted at this rate.”
“Don’t complain.” Casper nudged you, but even you could see the irritation on his face. “It’s our job as reapers to reap souls on time, no matter what.”
“I guess. Still doesn’t make it any less annoying.”
“Agreed.” With a sigh, Casper summoned his scythe. “I must be off, now. See you on the other side, [Name].”
As he made his way back to the opening of the portal, his feet lifting off from the ground, a gloved hand reached out to grasp your chin. Gently, he guided you to look at him as he ascended.
“I look forward to cashing in on that favor.”
For as long as you could remember, things have always been this way.
Your earliest memory was of waking up to the crimson skies of the Underworld. Unaware and unknowing, you allowed yourself to be dragged around by older reapers, their voices blurring together in a droning buzz. Everything had gone by so quickly, and you struggled to keep up with it all.
If you were to say it bluntly, your first day felt like a fever dream.
But amidst the chaos, the tutorials, and the gifting of your first scythe, there was one thing that you remembered clearly.
“...Snow.”
Your mentor’s lecture halted at your voice, barely audible. They followed your gaze to a white-haired man, looking to be around the same age as you. Like a drowsy child, you lifted your finger and pointed at him, looking back to your mentor.
“He’s like snow.”
Their eyes softened by the tiniest bit, having seemingly realized that you were still disorientated. After all, in a sense, you had just been born.
“I suppose he is.” Putting a hand on your shoulder, they guided you away from the man. “Now, as I was saying…”
Their voice faded away into the background as the white-haired man noticed your gaze. He turned to look at you, his ruby-like eyes like blood speckles against the winter landscape. You stared at each other for only a few seconds before you turned to follow your mentor.
You quickly forgot the pretty stranger, but you would stay in his memories for quite a while before you’d cross paths again. In the darkness of the Underworld, you were like a lantern - radiating warmth and familiarity.
You were beautiful, like a flower in summer. That was, until he met you for the second time.
Swiftly and ruthlessly, holding true to your occupation as a reaper, you cut apart any premonitions he had had about you. When you were put against him to spar by your mentors, the drowsiness had worn off - instead replaced by insufferable audacity.
As your scythes clashed, sparks flying between the two of you and burning him in the process, your mouth just wouldn’t stop moving, stop talking. The innocently sleepy look on your face was replaced with a shit-eating grin as you blocked his attacks, trapping him in a frenzied dance.
“What’s wrong, boo?” you laughed, twirling your scythe to drive him back. “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.”
Casper’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname; you wouldn’t stop calling him that ever since you learned his real name. He didn’t understand where it came from, but just the way you said it was enough to annoy him.
“Hardly,” he scoffed, his boots kicking up dust as they skidded against the ground. He was quick to lunge back at you, his movements precise as he swung his blade. “If anything, I’d wager that you’re the one tiring out.”
“Ha!” You ducked under his attack and sprung forward, Casper’s hair tickling at your face as you came nose to nose with him. Startled, Casper had no time to react as you slammed the end of your scythe’s staff into his chest.
Before he knew it, Casper’s back was against the ground, your boot on his chest, and your scythe at his neck.
Your breaths were heavy as you looked down on him, but your eyes glowed with triumphant victory. The fight may have been more exhausting than you’d like to admit, but the view you had was well worth the effort.
Beneath you, Casper struggled to catch his own breath, his chest heaving under the soles of your foot. His white hair splayed around him like a halo, and his face was tickled pink from the fight.
Even in defeat, he was beautiful.
You leaned forward, putting your weight on your knee. Casper grunted as you pressed harder on him. Just for the fun of it, you pressed your scythe’s blade against his chin and guided him to look up at you and your grin.
“I win,” you sang mockingly.
Casper groaned, letting his head fall against the floor. You laughed heartily, stepping off of him and instead extending your hand to him. Without a second thought, Casper took it, allowing you to pull him to his feet and dust him off.
“That’s what, victory number twenty-one?” you asked, stretching. “That means I’m in the lead now, Casp.”
“Whatever,” Casper scoffed, dusting off his chest where your foot had been. “I’m sure the score will even out in no time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you squinted at him. Casper stuck his tongue out at you.
“I don’t know, what does it mean?”
You hit his chest playfully. Casper grunted, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.
That’s how it had always been, after all. You and Casper would go back and forth in this tantalizing dance, exchanging jabs and jokes at the same time. 
To Casper, you were insufferable, but annoyingly capable. To you, Casper was way too serious and stuck up, yet had that charm about him that made you want to tease him at every possible opportunity.
But for many, many years, your relationship never went further than mere friends - if Casper even wanted to call you that.
The day Casper’s view of you changed was like a stormy sky - dark, yet light still managed to peek through.
You’d come back to headquarters with a solemn look upon your face. For someone who had just come back from a mission, you were oddly… clean. There wasn’t a trace of blood on your clothes, yet your eyes were dark, haunted. Even your scythe’s shine seemed dull.
For the reapers, to have someone normally so loud and full of life be reduced to this, was frightening. They’d grown used to your smile, your voice, your light. You parted crowds with your uncharacteristically serious aura; if there was anything a sensible reaper feared, it was the wrath of a joyous soul.
Immediately after turning in your report to headquarters, you disappeared from the public eye.
When Casper first heard the news, he had brushed it off. You were probably just having a bad day, he tried to assure himself. Maybe you’d finally realized the grimness that came with your profession. Maybe the soul you’d reaped was especially troublesome and gave you a run for your money.
Despite his attempts to make up explanations for your behavior, he couldn’t stop the worry from gnawing at his heart. It twisted in his chest like soul sickness, an ailment that he wasn’t used to nor did he understand. It even followed him into his work, plaguing his mind and distracting him as he reaped soul after soul.
He’d made haste to return home, knowing that this illness would only worsen if he stayed out.
The Underworld was always dark, but that day, the sky was pitch black. Eager to return to the comfort of his bed, he quickly made his way to one of the many apartment complexes in which reapers resided.
However, just before he opened the door to his room, his hand stilled at the sound of crying.
Now, sadness wasn’t an uncommon emotion in the Underworld. Ghosts, sinners, and demons alike wailed and screamed their woes into the night. Their cries were as common as the sound of rushing cars in a human city.
But not for reapers, especially in their home. Reapers, at their core, were cold, emotionless, and ruthless - they needed to be, in order to do their jobs properly. A reaper’s tears were rare, almost taboo.
The more Casper listened, he soon recognized a familiar voice among those sniffles: yours.
Could it be? He looked up to the rooftop, his hand wavering. His soul pulsed in his chest, warning him to ignore you and focus on himself. But his heart argued back.
Casper glanced once more at the doorknob to his room. Cursing himself, he heaved a sigh and walked away - moving towards the staircase leading to the rooftop.
As he emerged onto the rooftop, the first thing he noticed was how clear the sky was. Its crimson blanket was more like that of a rose’s rather than bloodstains, and if he squinted, he could perhaps delude himself into seeing a few stars.
Then came you.
Casper’s heart plummeted in his chest when he saw your form curled into itself. You sat at the edge of the rooftop, your knees pulled up to your chest and your face buried in your arms. Your back was to him, but Casper saw the way your shoulders trembled.
He tried to take a step towards you, tried to reach to you with his hand, but hesitated. What would he even say? What could he say? What could he do?
His thoughts halted when you took a deep, shuddered breath, your voice raw from cry.
“What do you want, Casper.”
Casper. Not Casp, not boo, not any of the annoying nicknames that you called him by.
“I…”
He stepped back, feeling fear for perhaps the first time in his life. For the first time, he was unsure of what to do.
You couldn’t see him, but you heard him walk away and descend the staircase. You laughed hollowly, wiping at your face with your hand.
“What was I even expecting…” you muttered bitterly, gripping at your own arms for support. “Why would he of all people…”
You shut your eyes tighter. Without the company of the sky and the city, you were left alone with your thoughts. Memories of what you had witnessed laughed in your mind, latching onto you like a parasite and refusing to let go.
You were never afraid of blood, nor of death, but today, just the thought of it made you nauseous.
Something soft nudged at your elbow. Blinking your eyes open, you warily looked to your side.
However, instead of seeing a person, you came face to face with a bright pink axolotl plushie.
You and the plushie stared at each other for a good minute, neither of you knowing what to make of the other. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar, exasperated sigh from behind the plushie that you realized what it was.
“Don’t just stare at him,” Casper mumbled, pushing the plushie against you. You blinked owlishly, before hesitantly taking the plushie into your arms.
Hugging it against your chest, you rested your chin on top of its head. The plushie was oddly warm, yet comforting. Casper sat beside you, silent and gazing up towards the sky. For a while, the two of you simply sat in this silence, with the only thing breaking it being your quiet sniffles.
“...She was just a kid,” you finally spoke, catching Casper’s attention and making him look at you. You, however, kept your gaze straight ahead to the city lines, refusing to meet his gaze. “She was just a little girl, and yet they… they…”
You hugged the plushie a little tighter.
“I just can’t understand how humans can be so cruel to each other.”
Casper’s gaze turned downcast. “That’s how they’ve always been. Life is cruel, even to the purest of souls.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Hardly anything is.”
“It shouldn’t have been her. It should’ve been that bastard that murdered her.”
“He’ll get what he deserves. Karma will catch up to him.”
“But what if it doesn’t? What if he gets let off?”
“He won’t.”
Unexpectedly, you let out a snort at Casper’s deadpanned voice - so assured and serious. Casper raised a brow, looking at you inquisitively.
“You know,” you said, raising your head. “You’re somehow really bad and really good at comforting people.”
“What?” Casper wrinkled his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. Actually, that’s one of the things I like about you.”
“That I’m apparently a bad comforter?”
“No, silly.” You leaned your head on the plushie again, only this time you were looking at your coworker. “Your seriousness. How you’re always so confident in yourself. How even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you still try.”
Red bloomed across Casper’s face like a flowering blossom, reaching from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze.
“It’s not fair when you start saying things like that,” he mumbled. You giggled a little, leaning onto his shoulder with his plushie still in your arms.
“I’m just being honest,” you hummed. “Or maybe I’m coping. I dunno.”
Casper chuckled, but made no move to push you off him. You closed your eyes. The turmoil in your heart was still there, of course, but with Casper against you, it eased up just a little.
“Seriously though, thank you,” you said. “For coming up here for me and, well, everything.”
“It was nothing,” Casper replied. “You were looking pretty pathetic, all depressed and all.”
You huffed. “Just admit you care about me, Casp. Is that so hard?”
Casper grumbled something unintelligible, before lifting his arm. You squeaked as he wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him. With your head laid against his collarbone, you could feel every breath he took as well as the rapid beat of his heart.
“[Name],” he said quietly. “Remember the favor you promised me? For winning the race?”
“Mm… yeah. What about it?”
“I’d like to cash it in right now.”
“Oh lord,” you chuckled. “Alright, what do you want?”
“Whatever happens next, don’t tell anyone,” Casper whispered.
Your lips curled into a smile. “You know, Casp, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to do something weird.”
You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was rolling his eyes.
“Be quiet for a moment, will you?”
You grinned. “Ah, but that’s two favors, not-”
Casper shut you up with a soft kiss to your head. It was brief, so quick that for a second you almost thought you had dreamed it.
In your stunned silence, Casper spoke again.
“Forgive me if I’m being greedy, but I’ll ask for a third favor,” he said. “No matter what happens, promise me you won’t deal with it by yourself.”
His grip around you tightened.
“Please.”
You nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck.
“...I promise.”
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reblogs w comments are appreciated !!
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val-made-a-mistake · 4 months
Note
Currently imagining a scenario where you and Eddie have some sort of split custody arrangement for Venom, and you have some sort of NSFW dream about Eddie, and Venom sees the whole thing because of brain link or whatever, and then shares this exciting development with Eddie the next time he's bonded to Venom
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venom is definitely not one to keep a secret, for sure 😭 thank you so much for your request, i hope you enjoy. :) smut-wise, it's a bit more focused on eddie than my previous fics where it was either symbiote-focused or an even split, hope that's okay. this was SO much fun to write!
warnings: brief smut, mentions of oral f receiving, mentions of "striking" the reader but it's totally a misunderstanding, loneliness, mentions of eating people/murder
word count: 3.3k
//////
It had been six days since Eddie had left for Seattle, and honestly, you hadn’t been expecting to fall into this loneliness so quickly. Venom might have been keeping you company by providing you with an endless stream of commentary in your inner conscience, and the chickens were constantly squawking and squabbling and wandering the length of the apartment as per usual, so it wasn’t like the space was totally silent, but still, Eddie’s absence was more saddening than you thought it would be. Over the course of the six days, you struggled to busy yourself. Of course you preferred Eddie having a job as to being without one, but one thing you particularly hated was how vague investigative jobs were, so as a result, you had no idea when he would come back or how long the work would take to be done.
For the time being, it looked like you were stuck here.
Before he’d left, Eddie had asked you to babysit Venom and his apartment, and now that you’d been here for an extended amount of time, you felt horribly restless.
Feeling the weight of the quiet apartment settling in, you cast a glance around the room. The hum of the refrigerator seemed to amplify in the sort-of silence, and you found yourself drawn to staring at Eddie's belongings scattered around.
Your gaze fell on a framed photograph on the shelf – Eddie with a carefree grin, arm slung around your shoulders. The memories flooded back, and a bittersweet smile touched your lips.
As if sensing your thoughts, Venom's voice rumbled in your mind.
EDDIE IS DEFINITELY MISSING OUT WITHOUT US AROUND.
The symbiote's attempt at comfort was appreciated, but it only deepened your sense of solitude.
Sighing you folded yourself into a ball on the couch, tucking your chin into your knees. The TV in front of you was off, and you had no intention to turn it on. For now, it was okay to mull in the quiet.
You mumbled into your knees, “What do you think he's up to in Seattle?" 
CATCHING BAD GUYS. KICKING BUTT. EATING SEATTLE FOOD. ZOOMING AROUND. ACTING PATHETIC WITHOUT US THERE.
“V, you and I don’t know anything about investigative journalism,” you put in gently.
Venom was, of course, offended.
I KNOW A LOT ABOUT EATING BAD GUYS!
“Yeah, but Eddie won’t let you eat bad guys in Seattle any more than he does here.”
It was at that moment that Venom popped out from your shoulder blade, miniature head scowling.
HE SHOULD!
“Wanna go get a bite to eat?” you interjected, effectively ending the conversation. “I’ll even let you drive, if you want.”
Venom grinned much too wide for his intentions to be anything but nefarious, so you quickly added, “No eating people.”
You turned fast and pointed to the pizza box sign in the kitchen. “Eddie might not be here, but that rule’s definitely still active while you’re in my body, okay?”
Venom, for lack of a better word with his gaping mouth full of super-sized fangs, pouted.
YOU ARE NO FUN!
I just don’t want to be involved in any murder, you wanted to say, but slimy, black, glittering goo was already wrapping and contorting around your middle. Venom was enveloping you, taking over.
It was a bit of an unpleasant sensation as Venom’s monstrous gooey head locked into place over where yours used to be, and rows of impressive fangs unfolded in your suddenly super-sized mouth. It felt like somebody had cracked an egg over your head and the yolk was dripping down your body. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it. You had no idea how Eddie put up with it.
For how quickly his annoyance started, Venom seemed to get over it pretty quickly. He grinned and licked his lips.
I WOULD LIKE TO GO TO MCDONALDS.
//////
The room was shrouded in the quiet stillness of the night. The dim glow of a bedside lamp cast a warm pool of light on the walls, creating a cozy haven within the four corners of Eddie’s bedroom. You were in bed. Venom, for the first time that day, was quiet.
Under the soft blanket, your eyelids were growing heavy with the weight of the day's endeavours. You still missed Eddie, a lot, so much that your nightly FaceTime call almost wasn’t enough. Seeing his face on your laptop screen was just a further reminder of how far two states away felt, and how binded you felt to him since you met him — he pulled at you without even realizing it, like you’d been sewn together with invisible thread.
Hopefully he wouldn’t be in Seattle for too much longer.
The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to synchronize with the slowing pace of your breath. As the minutes ticked away, you found yourself on the threshold of the dream world, caught between wakefulness and the gentle pull of slumber. Not even the distant murmur of passing cars was enough to distract you now.
Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the sensation of falling asleep, gently gliding down into the abyss of dreams. Eddie’s bedroom, once familiar and defined, now blurred at the edges, transforming into a surreal landscape of colours and shapes.
As you drifted further into the realms of slumber, a sensation of weightlessness enveloped you. It was as if you were floating on a sea of tranquility, carried away by the ebb and flow of your own breath. The boundaries between reality and imagination began to dissolve, and the world outside melted.
//////
Sometime between now and then, you’d ended up bent over in Eddie’s lap, on a couch that felt just like his couch, but was ambiguous enough that it could’ve been anywhere. Things were slightly blurry around the edges, surreal enough to have you breathless, but real enough that you weren’t questioning your surroundings.
“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed as he tilted his head, carefully examining the swelling ass on his lap. Your pussy was dripping, there was a dribble of arousal forming, but in all honesty, he was a little scared to touch you, he didn’t want to hurt you. “I don’t think I’m getting a finger in there, girl. Wow.”
“Luckily, I’m not that fragile,” you responded playfully as you arched your back for him. Eddie bit his lip as this only accentuated the curve of your ass.
“God,” he whispered as he ran a hand up your thigh: he was able to break them apart easily, and he pulled one leg over his lap, wedging you firmly between his legs.
Even though you were already soaking wet, Eddie’s fingers ran over your dripping slit for a moment, as if he were admiring the way your pussy fluttered at his touch in front of him.
God, you could just feel how wet you were, and you bit your lip, anticipating for Eddie to lean forward, and—
Y/N!!!
In an instant you’d jumped awake: you’d sprang to attention without really realizing how you’d done it, scrambling for the lamp. “What’s going on?”
Venom was protruding from your shoulderblade again, bouncing even more than normal, very clearly in extreme distress.
SWEET GIRL. WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS.
You stifled your yawn with your hand. “V, do you mean, like - like a dream?”
WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS! RECEIVING VISIONS OF EDDIE EATING YOU! THIS IS VERY SERIOUS! WE NEED TO KEEP YOU SAFE!
Your cheeks instantly warmed, and you froze, scrambling for something to say. “Oh - oh, shit, Venom - that - I’m so sorry, but I really don’t think that was what you think it was.”
HE WAS STRIKING YOU! Venom snapped.
Oh my god. He really saw all of that.
You reached for the water bottle on your nightstand. “V, you seriously don’t need to worry about this. It wasn’t real. It was a dream. Nothing bad will come from it."
Venom was, of course, still hysterical.
IT WAS A PROPHECY! THIS IS BAD!
I wouldn’t mind if it was a prophecy, you thought selfishly before you could stop yourself, but you shoved it down. “Everything’s alright, Venom. Okay? Everything's fine. Let’s just go back to bed.”
I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR CARING ABOUT YOU, Y/N.
You were already sliding back under the blanket. “I’m not asking you to, V. I appreciate it.”
You hesitated.
“Just, uh, next time you’re bonded to Eddie, please don’t tell him about this, okay? It could make him - I don't know, uncomfortable. You know, I - I don’t know how he’d react to the prophecy of him supposedly hurting me, that’s all. I don’t want to worry him.”
(You were hoping wildly that he would accept, and you and Venom would never talk about this again.)
In a move you’d never seen before, Venom raised one gloopy, black tentacle towards you, and recognizing the movement, you extended your pinky towards him. Your pinky and the black goo linked together for a moment, signifying your trust.
Venom grinned, now bouncing significantly less.
I NEVER BREAK A PINKY PROMISE, SWEET GIRL.
You raised your eyebrow.
I TRY NOT TO.
You were much too tired for any of this, you simply turned over to switch off the lamp and finally return to whatever remnants of that dream was left. “Okay then. Goodnight, V.”
//////
It was satisfying to have everything fall back into the natural order once Eddie returned home from Seattle. You returned to your own apartment on the opposite side of town, but of course visited frequently, and Eddie was grateful to be back in a low-stakes environment once more, with a snarky symbiote that would terrify anyone who would try to harm him. Seattle had been thrilling, and he'd recounted the adventure to you several times, but now he was back to something familiar.
The job was done. He was covered for the time being. Freelancing was difficult, but for now, everything would be okay.
In the intervening time, Venom talked about you, a lot. Ever since he met you, he’d taken to mentioning you. But ever since you’d agreed to split custody of the symbiote, and especially since Eddie had disappeared for Seattle, he was talking about you even more.
I AM WORRIED ABOUT Y/N, he said one day.
Eddie was idly clicking through TV channels, watching everything from the news to a police drama to a basketball game zoom past, finding none of them interesting. “Why?”
I DO NOT WANT ANY BAD OMENS TO BE FOLLOWING HER. WE NEED TO KEEP HER SAFE.
“What makes you say that?” he asked, a bit confused.
Venom suddenly popped out of his shoulder, howling.
SHE - SHE HAS -
Before Venom could get any actual words out, Eddie was lifted from the couch as the symbiote rose and slammed his head into the ceiling, denting it severely and sending bits of drywall raining down from the heavens like it was a form of self-punishment.
As quickly as it started, Eddie had been dropped on the couch, red in the face and gasping for air.
Venom hardly noticed: he seemed to be in extreme distress.
I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL!
Eddie put a hand to his throat, still sweaty and gasping, forcing an inhale. “V - what?”
Venom was beside himself, now.
Y/N IS RECEIVING VISIONS! VISIONS OF YOU!
"Visions? What do you mean, visions of me?" Eddie asked, his concern deepening. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling half-strangled anymore. His mind was racing, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and worry. "What kind of visions? Is she in danger?" 
He couldn't fathom what could be causing you to have distressing dreams about him.
Right after Seattle? Right after he thought the work was finished?
I DO NOT KNOW. BUT WE MUST PROTECT HER.
Without waiting for further response, Venom oozed off Eddie's shoulder and began slithering around the room, agitated.
Eddie remained on the couch, trying to process this information. "If something's going on, then we need to talk to her, right? Figure out what's happening."
I AGREE. SHE IS PART OF US, AND WE WILL NOT LET ANY HARM BEFALL HER.
He paused, awkwardly.
BUT PLEASE LET HER KNOW I AM SORRY. I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU, EDDIE. SHE SAYS SHE DOES NOT WANT TO WORRY YOU. SHE DOES NOT SHARE THE SAME CONCERN I HAVE.
It didn’t matter: Eddie was already grabbing his phone and dialling your number, fingers tapping nervously against his screen.
After a few tense rings, you picked up.
“Hey, Eddie!”
"Hey, we need to talk," Eddie said urgently, glancing at Venom, who was now wrapping himself around the coffee table, sticky and pulsating, in deep despair.
Concern filled your voice. "Is everything okay?"
“Oh, I mean, yeah, right now it is,” he responded wildly, vaguely aiming for nonchalant. “I was just talking to V, you know, and he said something, and - I just kinda wanted to call, y’know, see if you were alright-”
“Oh, I'm fine,” you confirmed, but you still sounded confused. “I don’t have anything going on today, so I’m just spending some time to myself. What did V tell you?”
Across from Eddie, Venom moaned in despair, a mere gooey black glob of depression on his sitting room floor.
SWEET GIRL, I AM SORRY!
“He said you were getting some disturbing visions, and not gonna lie, it kinda freaked me out a bit,” Eddie said sheepishly, hoping you hadn’t heard that. “I just wanted to call and see if you were okay, that’s all. I know this is random. Sorry. Just, with the nature of the last case, y’know, up in Seattle-”
It didn’t take long before he realized he was rambling again about the Seattle case, so he stopped. “Sorry.”
"No, it's okay."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a sigh.
Of course this was happening.
“Eddie, there’s been a misunderstanding,” you said. “Just, look - do you mind coming over? I’ll explain everything to you once you’re here. This might be better in person.”
Eddie was on his feet in an instant. “Sure, yeah.”
//////
Eddie rushed through the city streets, a mixture of worry and curiosity gnawing at him. Venom was bonded to him again, because he’d rather not think about the consequences of a depressed Venom lingering around the apartment while he was out, and the symbiote seemed to writhe within him with impatience. Or maybe that was just the motorbike rumbling underneath him. Whichever it was, he felt nauseous.
The symbiote had a tendency to jump to conclusions, but Eddie definitely couldn't shake the unease that settled in his gut.
Upon arriving at your apartment, Eddie knocked hastily.
To his surprise, you opened the door with a small smile.
"Hey," you greeted, ushering him inside. "Thanks for coming over."
Eddie nodded, glancing around your living room as if expecting something unusual. Venom, still on edge, clung within him like a sentient black backpack.
He didn’t want to come off as too eager, or too worried, so he just shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and hoped he looked casual despite the storm of questions brewing inside of him.
“So - what’s the deal?”
Deep inside of him, Venom was quivering with fright. As his gooey molecular form had to be closely intertwined with several of his most important organs right now, it was very hard not to notice the sensation.
You winced. “He’s just freaking out about nothing. There’s no bad omens or visions. I just had a dream, and you were in it. Simple stuff. Nothing to worry about.”
“It wasn’t a bad dream?” Eddie said, cautious.
You were definitely closer, now. “Actually, I’d say it was a pretty damn good dream.”
Eddie’s breath was caught in his throat. Out of everything that could’ve happened tonight, he definitely hadn’t been expecting…this.
He was a little confused, honestly. What was going on? The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, but he didn't feel as though he was in danger. On the contrary, he felt quite warm.
“Let me show you?” you offered.
"Okay," he bit out before he was conscious of making the decision, and you were stepping in front of him, and realizing, he closed his eyes on instinct--
The kiss that followed was absolutely dizzying.
There was something so particularly desperate about this: you were kissing, gasping against his mouth and pulling at his jacket, which made the two of you blindly scramble backwards into the apartment, messy and needy. The kiss quickly turned into a battle of control, with Eddie being the one to guide you forward, his hands on your hips. You bit his bottom lip in response, forcing him to open up and then the kiss was all about tongues, wet and sensitive.
You were on the couch when you finally broke apart, gasping.
"Baby," Eddie wheezed, his eyes darting across your face in disbelief, "I - what was that?"
"Is V with you?" you asked, instead of answering the question.
He was apprehensive now. "Yeah?"
"He needs to know I'm not in danger," you whispered, and you leaned forward to kiss him again.
It was much too chaste, and after you pulled away, Eddie was in mute astonishment for a moment.
His voice was scratchy when he spoke. "Disturbing visions, huh?"
You just smiled. "In my dream, we were on a couch, like this."
Eddie still couldn't believe this was happening. The anxiety in his gut on the way over had been completely forgotten now, blurring out of his memory, the future was an impossible thing, there was just this. This was all he had; this was all he wanted. "Were we, now?"
He didn't know what to do, but that didn't seem to matter, you were leading.
You nodded. "It was kinda hot."
"Kinda?" Eddie repeated dumbly, breathless. His voice sounded like a stranger's.
Before he could embarrass himself, Venom's voice rumbled within him, frustrated.
EDDIE, STOP BEING A PUSSY!
Wondering vaguely if this had been a trap all along, Eddie grabbed the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Your mouths roved together, and he took the opportunity to pull you over, closer to him. The curve of your bare spine was warm from under your sweater. He kept his hand there, roaming carelessly, drifting up to the clasp of your bra.
You seemed to get what he was going for, and then suddenly you were straddling him, and with you on top of him, he could no longer ignore how interested his dick was in the proceedings.
Slightly, just slightly, you rolled your hips against his clothed crotch, and Eddie choked out a moan.
Oh, fuck. He could feel the sweat materializing and running down his back. This was better than good.
(Venom was definitely going to tease him about this later.)
"What happened next?" Eddie mumbled, looking up at you, his eyes blown black.
You smiled, then crossed your arms and peeled off your sweater. Eddie shifted his grip, holding you by the hips again, and you tossed your sweater elsewhere.
Venom was going absolutely insane from inside him: it felt like he was rumbling somewhere around his large intestine.
DO NOT MESS THIS UP, EDDIE!
Meanwhile, you were, of course, oblivious to the commentary in Eddie's mind.
"I mean," you said, and your voice wasn't smoky like it had been before. It was just curious, with a note of teasing, like this was an everyday conversation. "You ate me out."
He pressed a light kiss to your throat. "Then flip over, baby."
Inside his head, Venom seemed to be having some kind of meltdown. Maybe he had just realized what the dream was. Maybe he was jealous. Either way, he was rambling in Eddie's mind.
SWEET GIRL - SO FRAGILE - SO SWEET - SO DELICIOUS - I NEED TO TASTE -
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hrts4hanniehae · 5 months
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seventeen and how they would react if idol!you were brutally attacked on stage by an antifan
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PAIRING. seventeen (ot13) x idol!reader GENRE. angst-fluff, established relationship, scenario imagines WARNINGS. blood, stabbing, violence, crying, nightmares, shock, anger WORD COUNT. 1369 words
my last work for the next 3 weeks because i'm on holiday! may still post if i find time though!!
choi seungcheol
the epitome of pure fury. when he sees the clip, he is just pure mad. 
not only because you got injured, but also because you didn’t tell him and he had to find out through a video that jeonghan sent him
he would watch the video and get the shock of his life when he sees the concealed blade graze the side of your neck as you dodge the lunge.
would not care if he had a full schedule, he would go to find you in the hospital.
when he sees you in the hospital bed with bandages around your neck, he would be too concerned to get mad that you didn’t tell him.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“We’re dating, I should be worrying about you. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”
yoon jeonghan
your manager immediately called him once the concealed blade was pulled out of your leg.
as we’ve seen with his reactions to sasaengs, he would be VERY agitated and constantly (with no filter) criticise anti-fans on lives
he would also show up to the hospital as soon as he could with your favourite snacks, hiding you from view as you eat them despite him not being allowed to bring food in.
would help you walk everywhere and baby you.
joshua hong
he would be silently in distress at the fact that you were bleeding so much.
he was watching the live stream of your performance with the rest of Seventeen when it happened. 
he watched in horror as the blade sliced your shoulder and the security team tackled the assailant. 
the cut was deep and bleeding profusely onto your white outfit, staining it red. (if you want it to seem badass just imagine ur song is something something bleeding hearts idk)
he would drop everything and video call you as soon as you’re out of danger.
he looks so heartbroken when he sees the stitches on your arm 
wen junhui
there is no doubt in me that he wouldn’t immediately be rushing to your side, even if your relationship hadn’t been announced.
he was at your concert that day because he had free time and you wanted him there.
when he saw the anti-fan climbing onto the stage he immediately knew that something was wrong and began making his way towards you
when he saw the blood splatter and you fall onto your knees, his heart dropped.
once they pulled the knife out of your stomach and you got the surgery needed, he fought with your managers to give you a long hiatus with him. 
he wouldn’t let you go out alone after that and he would bring you to meet his parents in China to rest and heal
kwon soonyoung
he would lose it when he sees the clip that Seokmin sends to him. The blood flowing down your head from the rock thrown at you sends him into a panic.
his panic increases when you don’t pick up your phone. 
when you finally call him, he picks up immediately to ask how you are. It doesn’t help that your concert is in a different country.
he would not be his usual lively self for a while (until he knows you’re 100% okay and that the culprit was caught)
jeon wonwoo
he expected some level of anger from fans after you both announced your relationship, but not to this extent.
when your manager calls him to tell him you were in the ER due to a knife attack, he would be in shock. You both had just spoken that morning before your concert, how could you be in the ER less than 3 hours later?
with no regard for anything he had to do that day, he would rush to the hospital to be by your side. 
after you’re out of surgery, he would announce his hiatus and pressure your manager to put you on hiatus too. He would then spend a few months just taking care of you and spending quality time together.
he would also 100% make sure the culprit is punished very severely. 
lee jihoon
this man would quite literally lose it.
he was on Weverse live when he received the call, and his soul left his body. He immediately ended his live before going to the hospital.
he would caress your cheek where the cut was and reassure you that you were still beautiful and hold you in his arms if you cried out of fear.
after that, he would call out every anti-fan and sasaeng in his lives.
“If there’s anything below lowlife, that’s you.”
xu minghao
he would be furious, especially when he hears what the fan said before she scratched you across the arm. “XU MINGHAO IS MINE!”
no more fan service, no more boyfriend-type pictures, no more aegyo. Your safety is 100 times more important to him than anything.
he would also release a statement. 
“Hurting my s/o is like hurting me. If you harbour the same grievances as this assailant, I will tell you this now. I will never harbour any interest in you, or anyone else for that matter. My s/o, y/n, if the only one in my eyes. You have failed as Carats and don’t deserve to be called fans of Seventeen.”
kim mingyu
despite his fear of confronting crazy fans/anti-fans, he would not hesitate to publicly shame your attacker at every chance he gets.
when he first saw all the blood, he was panicked. When he saw that the attacker had punched you in the nose, he became very mad. 
if he finds out it was because of him that the anti-fan attacked you, he would be very apologetic and upset with himself. He would never forgive himself if you got hurt because of him.
you would both go on hiatus for a month. 
lee seokmin
he went to your concert as a surprise for you that he and your manager had planned.
when he saw the fan slash at you, his heart dropped and shattered.
the pure fear in his eyes, when he saw your mangled skin, was something you never wanted to remember.
the whole way to the hospital, he was silently crying, yet seething with anger. His touch was gentle as he stroked your hair, trying to divert your attention away from the pain.
boo seungkwan
he couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you dodge the knife.
the cut on your shoulder was huge and he almost fainted.
he would be there at the hospital, comforting you through the stitches even though he could barely bear it.
he would also go off on the security team to understand how an anti-fan with a knife got past them and onto the stage.
during your month of hiatus, he would be there to comfort you.
vernon chwe
the hurt in his eyes when he saw the article was apparent to the other members of Seventeen, who immediately helped him to get to you. 
when he sees the bandages around your lower torso, his heart breaks.
he knows that the smile you give when you say you’re okay is fake and he just embraces you when you finally break down in sobs.
however long you need to go on hiatus, he’s there as much as he can and he makes sure that you know that you’re loved so very much.
lee chan
he wouldn’t know what to do when he sees you get stabbed on live TV. 
the blood splatters on the camera lens in front of you making him flinch.
after sitting in shock for a while, he gets up in a hurry, getting Mingyu to drive him to you.
he waits (hehe wait. sorry.) outside the A&E for you, fearing the worst. How could he live without you? You were his first love and he wished his last.
when the doctors finally tell him you’re okay, he collapses in relief and with Mingyu’s help, he makes his way to see you. 
he wouldn’t leave your side even if he had a schedule to do, and sometimes he’d have recurring nightmares of you being stabbed
when you go on hiatus, he follows.
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kennahjune · 6 months
Text
Part 2 of my s3 Steddie :D
Tag list: @anaibis @marklee-blackmore @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @swimmingbirdrunningrock @clumsiluni @just-a-tiny-void @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @mugloversonly @skyewaytohell @lololol-1234 @conversationswithamillennial @maya-custodios-dionach @nuggies4life @luthienstormblessed @blu3stars @samsoble @finntheehumaneater @thatonebirthstone @bird-with-pencils @swiftielouie55 @queenie-ofthe-void @paintsplatteredandimperfect @monsterloverforhire @krazyperson @literatelobster @jaytriesstuff @hippieg1rl420 @beawritingbooks @nightoffury @irregular-child @colidamae @stevieboyscoffee @martinskis-lydias
Holy shit!! I’ve never made a tag list before?? Thank you guys sm for being so into it!! And without further ado;
Steve woke up with the initial thought of “what the fuck”. So he could automatically assume his day was going to go great.
Out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen is where he finds Jonathan and— oddly enough— Robin.
Steve was used to finding Jonathan with him after one of his “episodes”. Usually he or Nancy will help him through it the best they can, laying with him or sitting with him wherever he is.
The idea of Robin in his house doesn’t even occur to Steve as weird until Robin says, “Sorry for the intrusion, uh… you really freaking worried me, man.”
Steve blinked— then, without taking his eyes off of Robin, asked Jonathan “Where did I have my episode at last night?”
Jonathan had the decency to look sheepish about it. “Uh— pfsshh, you had it at work, Steve.”
“And how bad was it?” He looked at Jonathan.
“You collapsed and had to be carried to the break room to rest. And the fact that you don’t seem to remember much of anything is also saying a lot.”
Steve stood there, thinking long and hard about yesterdays events.
“I remember Billy coming in and saying something about Max. Then he said something about Dustin that pissed me off. I don’t know. After that… who the hell?..”
Munson.
Holy shit.
Jonathan must’ve clocked the moment of realization cause he walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, man.”
Steve groaned and hurried his face in his hands. “That’s so embarrassing!” Was his muffled complaint. Robin— the asshole— had the nerve to snort at him.
“Hush, Buckley! Ugh I hate this.”
Jonathan was rubbing his back now, barely hiding his own snickers and laughs. “Come on—“
“I have to go,” Steve said quickly and went to turn around to leave.
“Where are you going? This is your house!” Robin retorted.
“I have to go apologize!”
Jonathan snagged Steve’s wrist and prevented him from going any further. “Go sit down, Steve. You can apologize later.”
Steve begrudgingly obliged, sitting at the small kitchen table that was usually used for his dads drinking. He crossed his arms and put his head down. He’d fucked up his vision again when he spun around too fast to leave. Jonathan sighed and came up to rub his back again. Physical touch helped Steve a lot during times like these. Especially during the vertigo.
Robin took the seat next to him. “So, two concussions? If you were having such a bad time why didn’t you just call in?”
“Cause I’m constantly late to work and the only reason I haven’t been fired and kicked on my ass is because you keep covering for me so I figured I had to return the favor,” he replied in one breath.
They were silent for a couple of minutes, just basking the each others presence. Until Jonathan stopped rubbing Steve’s back, let his hand rest there, and then patted between his shoulder blades twice before going over to the pantry.
“You need to eat something before you do anything. Robin can you get him a cup of water, please?”
Robin nodded and stood to get it. Steve groaned. “I can get my own water, Jon.” but he’d made no attempts to move from his seat. Jonathan muttered something about toast.
“Considering the fact that yesterday you just about passed out on your feet and how a few minutes ago you nearly fell over just by turning too fast, I’d like to differ.”
Steve huffed, knowing he was right. He heard the toaster start and glass was set down gently in front of him. He lifted his head and eyed the water.
“I didn’t poison the damn thing, dingus.” Robin tapped her fingers on the table.
Steve snorted and finally took the glass. He was done with it in seconds.
“Christ,” Robin muttered while refilling it for him.
When Steve was just about done eating his toast and downing another cup of water his house phone went off.
“I’ve got it.” Jonathan stood.
Steve shrugged and stood himself— slowly this time— to put his dishes away. Robin remained seated and watched him.
Jonathan huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Steve furrowed his eyebrows and walked over, trying to hear the conversation.
“Yeah— no I’ve got it, don’t worry. I love you to. Bye.” Jonathan hung up and sighed heavily.
“You alright?” Steve leaned on the wall next to him.
“Yep. Great. That was my mom, by the way. And apparently the kids are all on the loose in Forest Hills, looking for Eddie.”
What the fuck?
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah.”
“So…” Robin stood. “I’m going with Steve?”
Max was curious. They all were. Just who the hell was Eddie Munson? Steve had never mentioned him before, but from the looks of it both Jonathan and Steve knew him.
Will had wanted to ask Nancy about him, saying how Jonathan said they all went to school together, but Mike refused to ask Nancy about any of this other than asking about migraines.
So they were on their own.
Max took her skateboard and the boys took their bikes (Will riding with Mike) and the four of them made their way to the trailer park.
Max was running on borrowed time, telling Billy that she was going over to the Byers’. And if that’s not where she is in the next 2-3 hours when he comes to pick her up then she’s done for.
But it’s fine. They figure out where Eddie Munson lives in no time. It’s not a very big trailer park, and “Eddie Munson” seems to be a pretty recognizable name. A nice old lady named Miss. Bottomette pointed them right down the street from her own trailer.
The four of them made their way over, dumping their bikes (and skateboard) in the yard— not bothering with kickstands. Max and Mike shoved their way in front of the other two, both going to knock at the same time.
Mike gently shoved Max to the side when the door opened, now all three of them being behind him. Standing at the door wasn’t Eddie Munson, unless he’d aged 50 years in past 24 hours. The new man was a lot older, and was just a bit taller than Mike. He looked the four of them up and down before leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms.
“What can I help you kids with?”
Will gulped. He didn’t like adults and especially not ones with heavy western accents that look like they’d kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.
“Um— we’re just looking for an uh, an Eddie Munson, sir,” Max tagged on from behind Mike. Will reached over subtly and grabbed someone’s hand, he thinks it’s was Lucas’. Why the hell was this guy so scary?
The man had a gleam in his— something like amusement. It kind of pissed Mike off but he knew better than to get pissy with an adult he’d just met. Especially with how Will was reacting to him.
“Well,” the man chuckled, “I’m not sure what you kids need with ‘im, but he’s not here right now. So why don’t you go back home, huh?”
He went to close the door but Mike spoke up. “Wait! Please— we uh— we really, really need to talk to him. Even if it’s just for a couple of seconds!”
“If he’s not here do you know where he is?” asked Lucas.
The man studied them all closely, his eyes raking over them each individually. As if they were threats. Mike nearly scoffed to himself.
Finally the man gave in and sighed. “Why do you wanna see Ed so bad?”
Max tapped her foot really hard on the wooden porch. When everyone jumped and looked at her she put her hands up. “Sorry! Got excited.”
Lucas spoke up this time. “We, um— wanna thank him? And ask him a few questions I guess. He helped out one of our friends yesterday and we really really just want to talk to him, please. Sir.” he tagged on the “sir” like an after thought.
In the next few moments, they found themselves piling into the very small, very cramped trailer living room.
“I’m Wayne, by the way. Wayne Munson, Eddie’s uncle.” he finally introduced himself. He raised his eyebrow at them. Oh yeah, they have to introduce themselves as well.
“Oh! Um— I’m Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.”
“Er— Max Mayfield.” she crossed her arms.
“Mike Wheeler.”
“Um, uh—“ Will grabbed Mikes hand “—Will Byers.”
Mr. Munson’s eyes seemed to study Will extra hard. Mike gripped his hand and squeezed to let him know he was there. Even Max and Lucas moved in slightly closer to Will. They didn’t understand why this guy seemed to come off so mean.
“Hey Uncle Wayne! What’s taking you so long at the door, man?” The man of the hour showed his face at the end of a small hallway. His brain seemed to short circuit at the sight of all the kids in his very small and very cramped living room.
“Um, hi?” Lucas greeted awkwardly.
Eddie leisurely made his way into the room with him. “Aren’t you Harrington’s kids from last night?”
“We’re not his kids,” Mike grumbled under his breath. But he couldn’t deny the spike of joy that came with the title.
Mr. Munson looked at Eddie like he’d lost his mind. “Harrington’s kids?” he put extra emphasis on “Harrington”, as if it was actually so weird.
Max rolled her eyes.
“Yes, Harrington’s kids,” she said under her breath with heavy sarcasm.
Lucas shot her a glare and she grunted.
“Well—“ Eddie clapped his hands “—what can I help you kids with?”
Mike and Max eyed each other, trying to decide who was going to start. Turns out; it was Will.
“We wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” he spoke up timidly. Mike squeezed his hand.
“Ok,” Eddie accepted. “Hit me. What’s up?”
Lucas was the first this time. “Why were you so willing to help Steve?”
When Wayne went to get the door Eddie didn’t think it’d take 20 minutes. And he also didn’t think that going out to check on him would lead him to finding four little kids in his living room. More specifically Steve Harrington’s kids.
He should’ve known it was to be bombarded with questions.
“Why were you so willing to help Steve?”
Well shit.
“Cause I’ve had an undying crush on him since he first came to the high school in his freshman year and I wasn’t going to turn up a chance to help him out and maybe talk to him and then I realized it was actually a lot worse than I thought so I stuck around to make sure he was ok.”
Yeah absolutely not.
“Because he needed help. The guy couldn’t even stand on his own.”
Lucas eyed him but handed it over to Max.
“Why were you so chill about his migraine? I mean you said it yourself: he could barely stand on his own. Most people would’ve left the moment someone else got there if not before.”
Little Red held a strong point.
“Cause I knew he needed help. Simple as that.”
No. Not “simple as that”.
“Did you know him in high school? Back when he was dating Nancy?” Little Wheeler asked.
Now this; this was a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He sighed, maybe a little harsher than intended, and answered “Yes. I knew him in high school and when he was dating your sister.”
At this point Wayne had left to the kitchen. But Eddie knew he was listening in, making sure they didn’t cross any lines.
“So if you knew him in high school, when he was an asshole— don’t kick me he was!— then why were you so nice? Cause most people he talks to from high school seem to hate his guts.”
“Jonathan doesn’t hate his guts!”
“I said “most people”, Will!”
Well golly damn they hold a lot of good points today. Before he got to answering the question there was another knock on the door. Max flinched and moved closer to Lucas.
“I got it,” Wayne said as he made his way over.
When he opened the door Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Jonathan Byers were all there on the porch. Wayne looked back and forth between the two groups before sighing and saying, “Why don’t we all step outside? Trailer ain’t big enough for all of ya.”
So that’s where they all went, outside on the front yard. Wayne sat on the porch steps while Eddie hung back.
“What the hell was the point in this?” Asked Steve, scolding the kids.
“We just wanted to ask him some questions!” defended Lucas. Will hung back by Jonathan but nodded his head.
“Questions.” Steve deadpanned.
Max huffed and Steve’s glare turned on her. She crossed her arms and looked away, seeming to close in on herself.
Steve sighed and pinched his nose, turning around and grunting before turning back around. “Ok, here’s the game plan.” he clapped his hands. “You four—“ he pointed at each of the kids “— are going to apologize to Mr. Munson and Eddie.”
The kids all started to grumble and protest.
“AND THEN—“ he continued loudly over them, making them shut up “—you are going to all go home to your own houses. We will talk about this tomorrow when I don’t want to fucking strangle you.”
“I can’t.” Max huffed.
“Cant what?” Steve asked.
“Go home. Especially not with you. I told Billy I’d be at the Byers’ and he’s expecting me to be there in the next half hour.”
Steve’s entire face dropped and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Max.”
She folded her arms and looked down. Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Ok, it’s fine. Change of plans; we’re all going to the Byers’! You four go apologize now and then load your bikes and board into my car as best you can.”
Eddie stood through their half-assed apologies while Steve stood back conversing with Jonathan. When the kids made their move to get their bikes and skateboard Eddie moved over to stand next to Steve. While the kids loitered around for a moment. Steve turned on him when he noticed his approach.
“What were they bothering you about that was so important Max lied to Billy?”
Eddie smirked and answered “oh you know; questions.”
Steve groaned.
They stood in silence while Steve watched Jonathan quietly scold Mike and Max for something.
“You can use my van.”
“What?”
“My van. To bring their bikes? There’s no way in hell they’re all fitting into your’s or Byers’s car.”
Steve watched as Mike and Lucas argued about the bikes while Max and Will talked behind them. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face in agitation. Steve placed his hands on his hips again and hit the inside of his cheek. Eddie watched him closely, finally noticing the ruffled hair and the plain gray t-shirt and way to short basketball shorts.
“Did you come over here straight from bed?” he asked.
Steve looked at him, squinting in the sun. “Yeah? What of it?”
“Dude it’s like 2pm.”
“Migraines knock me out.” he shrugged.
Another moment of silence went by until Steve sighed. “If you really don’t mind, letting us use your van would be great.”
Eddie watched Mike’s bike fall out for the fourth time and nodded. Just in time for Mike and Max to both call out in a whiny tone “STEEEEVEEEE!!”
Steve huffed and whined back “WHAAAAAT?” Eddie snickered.
“The bikes aren’t going to fit!” Lucas yelled, throwing his bike on the yard.
“Yeah I realized that. Thankfully, Eddie’s very nice and has offered to let us use his van.”
Mike and Lucas’ eyes lit up. “Can we—“
“Absolutely not.” Steve shut them down. “You four are going to ride with Jonathan and Robin back to the Byers’ while I run around with Eddie to drop off your bikes.”
Eddie nodded, not knowing what else to do.
Mike huffed.
“Steve,” Max called out quietly. “You’re not dropping mine off, right?”
Steve’s face softened and he smiled at her exasperatedly. “No, Max, you can toss your board in Jon’s trunk.”
She nodded and looked hesitant to walk away. The boys had already gotten in the car, and with one look around Max gave in and quickly hugged Steve. He patted her back and ruffled her hair and then she ran off to the car.
With final goodbyes and a promise to Robin to just call in sick next time, Steve and Eddie were left alone, Wayne going inside to take a nap.
Steve clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just me and you now, Munson.”
Oh boy.
Guess I am gonna need that part three 😭😭
I’ll take tags for part 3 if you guys want :)
Part 3 :)
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year
Note
Hi there! Can I request the gods fighting a reader who has a huge asset 👀 and during their fight, the god accidentally grope her chest. The reader then got flustered and slap him across the face. Bonus with Adam’s reaction. Thank you.
Gods - Thor, Loki, Hercules, Poseidon, and Hades.
-Many would think that having a large chest would be amazing, usually those were people with small or flat chests, but it was not all it was admired to be.
-Your back constantly hurt, you could barely find bras that were cute in your size, so you mainly just tied them down with a sarashi wrap; but the worst thing of all was being stared at, men gawking at you like you were a piece of meat and other women looking at you with envy.
-Whenever you had to fight, you always tied them down as much as you could, so they wouldn’t knock you off balance.
-Despite your ‘minor inconvenience’ you were a very powerful warrior, able to do toe-to-toe with some of the strongest warriors in Valhalla with ease; you just happened to get underestimated a lot, which was rather enjoyable for you.
-When you were announced as the next fighter, women cheered all around for you, as you were an inspirational fighter, as you fought back against men who thought they could touch you, just because you looked like the way you did.
-The men all cheered for more obvious reasons.
-The fight was intense, you couldn’t remember the last time you had a fight this challenging, it was so exciting!
-You dodged under his weapon, sliding up with your own and he swung out with his hand to shove you back and instantly he grabbed something rather squishy.
-Everything and everyone froze as you and he paused, both of you had turned white in pure shock before you let out a shriek and bitch slapped him across the face, sending him flying back.
-Thor- The normally stoic Thor was stammering, trying to explain that it was an accident as you lifted your bisento, bright red in the face, tears in your eyes, and fury surrounding you, “I’m not buying your excuses! You better take responsibility!” Loki was pretty sure he was going to die from laughing so hard, while Odin was trying to hide his own smile. Thor managed to grab your bisento, “I’ll take responsibility! I’ll marry you!” you were stunned but his sudden proposal as the crowd was quickly roaring with cheers.
-Loki- He had been knocked unconscious by your slap, stunning everyone by the power behind your fury. When he came to in the infirmary later, a red handprint still on his face, he was stunned that he had lost before immediately seeking you out, to one apologize and two- to ask you out on a date!! You were stunned when he sought you out with a bouquet of roses, asking you out on a date, willing to take responsibility for his accidental actions (or was it~?).
-Hercules- He had been stunned when he grabbed you by accident and tried to apologize, before you stunned him a second time by being able to bitch slap him head over heels away from you. He sat up, apologies falling from his lips like a mantra, ignoring his now bright red throbbing cheek as you were almost in tears. You ran off from the fight, too embarrassed and furious to think straight and Hercules was quick to rush off after you, to make sure you were okay.
-Poseidon- Zeus couldn’t breathe, seeing his stoic older brother so flustered as you leapt up with your bisento, he only barely blocked with his trident. Poseidon tried to reason with you, so he could apologize, as your anger was making you much more powerful. When you finally managed to knock his weapon out of his hand, holding your own blade to his neck, the tears in your eyes finally fell, making him gawk as you were announced the winner. He was quickly on his feet, apologizing profusely.
-Hades- His ears were ringing after your powerful slap, he almost felt like he couldn’t stand, but struggled to his feet, holding his head as you charged, “You better take some responsibility!!” you squeaked as he grabbed the pole of your weapon and was able to pull you into his arms, “I will, but first I must apologize for grabbing you. I meant to knock you back, not grab you. I am truly sorry.” His apology was sincere, so you accepted it as the match ended in a draw and he took you to the infirmary himself, so you could get the couple of wounds you had and so he could get some ice with his face.
-Adam- Anyone in the arena could hear the loud boss music that seemed to be playing, nobody knew where it was coming from. The god instantly paled, feeling someone glaring daggers into his back as he slowly turned, seeing a figure shrouded in darkness, with the only thing not being pitch black being a pair of glowing red eyes and a pair of brass knuckles on each hand. When your first tear slipped down your cheek, Adam attacked, “HOW DARE YOU GRAB MY DAUGHTER AND MAKE HER CRY?!?!” refusing to listen to any apologies as the two men ran out of the arena, one trying to kill the other. You didn’t care that you were announced the winner, spending the next several hours being comforted by Aphrodite who knew your pain well.
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obae-me · 1 year
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The OM Characters and How They Hug
Just a lil bit of fluff for me and for you in these trying times
Lucifer: 
Softly yet protectively. With a relaxed arm curved around the shoulder-blades and one protecting the back of the neck, his hand settled behind the head. As the eldest of his brothers, he is well used to making someone feel safe. He might not do this as often as he used to in the Celestial Realm, but there are still occasions where his brothers come to him for one of these hugs. It’s a hug that tells you he’ll take care of it. No matter the problem, no matter the worry, settle it on his shoulders. His pride can handle it. Sometimes he’ll even unfurl his wings to shelter the person he’s hugging, shielding them from the world, making sure they can’t be seen in their moment of vulnerability. 
Mammon: 
Tightly and passionately. Most of the time it’ll be a simple squeeze, standing side by side with whoever he’s accompanying, an arm around their back as he pulls them against him, shoulders shrugging up against each other, his head lightly bonking against theirs as he grins. But if it’s serious, he’ll pull whoever it is close and tight, his arms slipping under theirs, hands grasping at the back of their clothing as he clings to them. His emotions are always open to everyone, even if he tries to hide it. Whoever Mammon is hugging knows exactly how they feel for him, they can feel it in the burning warmth of his body, in every twitching muscle that holds them to him. Everything about his hugs screams ‘I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere’.
Levi: 
Nervously but assuring. He constantly shifts on his feet, his arms moving till they settle wherever feels best, more natural, which usually has his head somewhere near or on their shoulder. Sometimes he’ll even have his tail wrap around their waist. He feels like he’s not good at this, like he’s the last person to go to for a hug. There have to be better options but...whoever it was came to him. He can’t...he doesn’t want to pass up on this opportunity. He isn’t the third oldest and strongest of his siblings for nothing. He can mostly only think on the negative, but sometimes that can come in handy. At least it could be worse. Remember that time when they felt even more awful? At least this wasn’t that moment. At least they were here...with him...together. 
Satan: 
Curiously and surprisingly shakily. He’s wrath and yet he’s been sought out for comfort. He can’t help but wonder why. He hugs simply at first with his arms around their back, his hands clasped behind their body. Yet, he’s a bit...unsteady with it. He’s not a natural at this, and yet...he doesn’t mind it. He turns curious, his arms slowly shifting, tightening ever so slightly till he’s satisfied. Is this helping? He’s better at more logically solving problems than embracing, but...this is fine. It’s nice being depended on every once and a while, being wanted for something calm. He’s more used to holding cats, not people, so whoever it is might be surprised (or not so surprised) to find he’ll start stroking the back of their head in a slow rhythm, his fingers scratching at the base of their skull. 
Asmo:
Lovingly and lightly. His arms wrap up around their shoulders, twirling his fingers in the ends of their hair. His hands explore, finding all the tight spots in their body and trying to rub it out of them in little circles. He’s a wonderful source of hugs. Every touch of his feels delicate and intentional. He even seems to know certain pressure points to alleviate some tension, leaving the brain tingling. In his arms, they’re loved, they’re wanted. Breathe it in calmly. Feel the heart beat. Feel the feeling in your limbs. Focus on the brilliant sensations the body possesses. Distract the mind. Live in the now. Here, with him, they are pampered, admired, beautiful. 
Beel: 
Bone-crushingly tight and supportive. The recipient might not be able to breathe for a minute, but he’ll eventually adjust his own strength, still hugging whoever it is as tightly as they can manage. He likes to cover as much of the person he’s holding as he can, chin on their head if they’re shorter than him, which most are. If they’re taller than him, they should be ready to find themselves pushed down a little to feel smaller. Most times he’ll even pick them up a little off the ground. They can feel easy in his arms. He’ll support them, he’ll carry them, he’ll do whatever it takes to make them feel better. Just tell him what he has to do, or he can simply stand here longer, holding them even tighter. 
Belphie: 
Lazily but comforting. He’ll drape his arms over them if he even moves his arms at all. Most times he simply leans into whoever it is, letting them do the holding. Stay into the hug too long, and it’ll turn into a full out cuddle, almost forcing whoever it is to lie down with him and stay a while. If he has to lie directly on them to keep them from moving, he will. It’s his own way of supporting, of caring. His tail might wrap around their ankles to keep them from walking away. His yawns are infectious, making the other person yawn. His soft breathing slowly seeps its way into their lungs, making them breathe deeply and calmly. And, if he’s determined enough, he’ll slowly use his sin to lull them to sleep. Only when they’re not fully awake will he wrap his arms around whoever it is, his head rubbing up against their shoulder or chest. 
Diavolo: 
Strongly and shielding. Despite not having the opportunity very often, anytime it is presented to him, he takes it in stride. He’ll scoop whoever it is up into his arms, curving his large body over them, surrounding them, making them feel like nothing could get to them while he is there. His hold is strong, unwavering, a hand firmly on the back. He will not let go until the time is right. Sometimes he might even laugh, even if the situation feels dreary. He just has so much joy to share, and being here, comforting someone, it makes him happier than they can even imagine. His positivity tends to pool into others. His positive and hopeful outlook shining through the darkest of thoughts. 
Barbatos: 
Politely yet firm. His hands typically settle on their shoulders, going no further, pulling them against him. Only occasionally, if he feels it’s needed, will his hands reach around their back. His fingers hold on surprisingly tightly. They won’t slip from him, or rather, he will not let them go. Sure, he might feel like it’s his duty to uphold peace in the kingdom, but truthfully, he can’t handle seeing those he cares for feel so unlike themselves. And if a gesture such as this will alleviate some of that stress, so be it. He might find himself adjusting and fussing over whoever he is holding, smoothing out wrinkles, pulling off stray hairs, dusting off lint, clipping off loose threads. He can’t help it. It is his way of caring for them. 
Simeon:
Warmly and soothingly. An angel's duty is to comfort. To spread light and joy. It's something he enjoys doing. He'll hold them gently, the warmth from his Celestial body spreading over them, but not in a suffocating way. He almost feels exactly like the sensation one gets when they wrap themselves in a blanket that had just gotten out of the dryer. His cheek presses somewhere against their head, his hand rubbing up and down their spine. It's immediately comforting and whether it's his power or simply his personality no one knows for certain. People come to him for hugs often, even if they'll never admit it. Hugs from Simeon are almost like a reset, a recharge, returning that drained vitality.
Solomon: 
Cautiously yet enveloping. He's not used to people coming to him for hugs. Despite him being alive for who knows how long, he still feels rusty at it. But, of course, if the desire is genuine, who is he to deny something so simple? He hugs like some of those old men who use one arm to pull them in and the other to give them a single pat on the back, but if they need a little more than that, he'll hold onto them longer, trying to remember old memories, feelings of nostalgia for other moments like these that have been long forgotten. Eventually, he'll lean forward, throwing the remaining caution to the wind and hugging them entirely, squeezing hard enough that maybe, this time, the memory will remain forever.
Luke: 
Adorably clingy. He may pout and whine about how he's not some cute little angel, he doesn't want to be treated like a child, but of course his hugs make his denials hard to take seriously. He hugs like his life depends on it, like he'll never ever let go, like the only way he'll leave is if you pry him off. He's got surprising strength for his looks. Sometimes, he likes to jump a little right before he holds on so he can wrap his arms around their neck so he doesn't feel so small. Of course, depending on who he's hugging, they might just pick him up anyway which defeats the purpose, but perhaps he can allow it just this once, if it makes whoever he's hugging feel better.
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lebbys-world · 18 days
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Sleepy Cuddles
Todoroki x gn!reader; no warnings! just fluff and some cuddles with our favorite boy :)
notes: my friend suggested i start writing some fics, so here we are! feel free to leave any requests or questions in my ask box !!
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Your eyes drooped in exhaustion, the physical exertion from the day's training seemingly hitting you all at once.
You had managed throughout your classes just fine, only feeling the usual post-workout soreness, and assumed you’d be feeling the same come evening.
Having made plans for a usual weeks-end dorm date, you were hoping the fatigue would at least spare you that.
And, your wish being granted, here you were: laying down on your dorm room bed, cuddled up next to your boyfriend, a recently released show playing on the laptop in front of you two.
Unfortunately, in your drained state, you made the slightly unwise decision to stay closely snuggled up to the half-and-half quirk user’s left side.
Barely fifteen minutes into your show, you were quickly beginning to face the consequences of this choice; the slight natural heat of his quirk swiftly lulling you into much needed sleep. 
At the same time, Todoroki’s attention began to wane from the show, his gaze constantly drifting down to meet your closed eyes.
He smiled and carefully adjusted his position to allow for you to now lay comfortably against his chest, rather than against the blade of his shoulder.
As much as he found intrigue in the shows you two watched, what he truly adored were the stark comments you’d make towards the show, always followed by a dramatic look that would fade into a laugh.
More than anything, these were the sorts of moments that he insisted started to mend the wounds that reside deep in his heart.
And right now, watching you sleep so peacefully, as if there was nothing wrong in the world - he believed this was one of those moments, too.
As the credits of the show began to roll, he felt your weight shift beneath him, a sleepy groan following as your eyes regained bits of consciousness.
“...Sho..?” You looked up at your boyfriend, a sudden wave of realization and guilt rushing over you.
“..Oh goodness, I didn't realize how burnt out I was. I’m so sorry I fell asleep, we can keep watching-”
He cuts you off by pulling you closer into his embrace, his actions quelling your worries in an instant.
“Go back to sleep. You can’t keep pushing yourself so much and then refuse to rest.”
You huff, flopping back into a comfortable position in the warm bed. Half asleep already, you weren’t going to be the one refusing such a generous offer. 
Returning his embrace, you both closed your eyes, a small smile meeting your lips.
“Thank you.” You mumbled, as you return to the comforting hold of sleep, safe and sound in the hold of your lover.
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chvoswxtch · 1 year
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all i need is you
pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader
summary: following the morning after matt's run in with elektra, you have a lot of decisions to make about your future together.
warnings: swearing, angst, explicit sexual content (minors pls dni), mentions of pregnancy
word count: 8.2k
a/n: y'all have been requesting a sequel to please don't be mad for almost 6 months now, & I apologize it's coming so late. there were a lot of things y'all wanted to see happen in the sequel, & I took all of that feedback to heart & incorporated as much as I could in a way that made sense to me. i've been working on this for months, & it was really important to me to create something you guys would really love & be happy with. thank you to everyone that even wanted a sequel, & for being so patient. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
[part one]
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It was almost crazy to think that just over a year ago, you thought your relationship with Matt Murdock was over for good. 
When you had awoken that following morning by his side, head clear of the rage and lust induced haze you had been captured in, all that was lingering was a heart heavy with hurt and stinging with betrayal. You had silently collected all of your belongings, pressed one last kiss to Matt’s lips, and granted his peaceful sleeping form one final glance before leaving your spare key on his entry table and disappearing into the twilight. 
All of his words still echoed in the back of your mind, but so did his actions. The promise of marriage was eclipsed by the cherry lip stain on his collar. The prospect of a family was diluted by the scent of an expensive perfume that didn’t belong to you. The vow of faith and love was broken by yet another lie. 
You loved Matt, more than you had ever loved anyone, and more than you ever thought you could love another person. You knew deep down that he was a good man. You tried to believe that he would never intentionally hurt you. But it had gotten to the point where you couldn’t ignore the ache he left in your chest. 
You needed time to try to forgive him. You weren’t even sure if you could forgive him at all. The cut he’d made ran deep, and you couldn’t decide if it was because he’d made it with her blade, or if it was simply his own that had been slicing away at the same spot over and over and over. Regardless, you needed time. Time away from him; to heal, to think, to decide. 
But Matt Murdock had never been a man of patience.
For two endless weeks your phone constantly lit up with his name, filling up with messages containing apologies and desperate pleas. You started arriving early to work and left later than usual to throw him off your schedule. You had the receptionist bypass all his calls and made security aware that he was not welcome in your office. You ignored all the usual spots that he knew you frequented, and especially the ones you went to together. For the first time in over a year, you locked all your windows to ensure he couldn’t slip through in the middle of the night. You blasted music through your headphones so you didn’t have to hear the pain in his voice as he called out your name, fist banging away at your front door so hard you were certain he was going to actually break it down. 
It was torture. Even though he had been the one to wrong you, a piece of you felt guilty. You could hear the terror and remorse in his voice when he stood outside your door, begging for forgiveness, chanting your name over and over as if you were the deity he worshiped and needed absolution from. It left a bitter taste in your mouth to be yet another person to turn your back on him, but through the wave of your sadness came the tide of anger, reminding you that he had done this. He had forced your hand. He made a choice, and you had to make yours. 
The guilt from also having to ignore Karen and Foggy weighed heavily on your chest. They knew what had happened. You had just as many sympathetic voicemails and unanswered texts from them asking if you were okay, and if you wanted to talk. You hated not being able to lean on them when you were at your most vulnerable. They were your family just as much as Matt was, but you couldn’t talk to them or be around them. They just reminded you of him. A huge part of you resented him for that, for making you feel like you couldn’t go to the two other people you loved most in this world for comfort because of what he did. You had spent the past few years building your entire life around Matt, and he had selfishly sent it crashing to the ground, leaving you completely isolated beneath the debris.
For two long weeks, you felt trapped beneath a heavy blanket of depression you couldn’t seem to find your way out from. 
And then she happened. 
How Elektra had managed to break into your apartment when Matt couldn’t, you weren’t sure, but the day you came home to find her in your living room with a bag of your things packed by her feet, you were stunned silent.
“I need you to come with me.”
“What? Why?”
“Because Matthew is an idiot and he’s put you in danger. We need to go. Now.”
She didn’t even give you a chance to hesitate, gripping your overnight bag into one hand, and forcing you out your door with the other. The ding of the elevator dropping you to the lobby seemed to wake you out of whatever trance she had put you in, and you stared at her in confusion as you stood firmly outside the metal doors.
“I don’t understand. What are you doing here? Where are we going?”
“I’ll explain when we get there. We need to move.”
“I don’t-“
“Listen. You don’t know me. You’ve got no reason to trust me. But right now, I am trying to save your life. So if you’ll please-“
“Why?”
Elektra paused for a moment as she looked at you. The annoyance on her perfect features vanished slowly, taking in the pain and confusion that were clearly plastered on yours. 
“Because you’re important to Matthew, which means you’re important to me.”
Elektra filled you in on everything the moment she had secured you away in a penthouse uptown that was registered under an alias. What she and Matt thought were the Yakuza had ended up being a much older and sinister organization called The Hand. They were into some freaky cult shit that you didn’t quite understand, but you got the gist that they were powerful, and extremely dangerous. They were also everywhere. They had tracked her and Matt, and a man named Stick that had trained the two of them, back to Matt’s apartment the night after the gala. They had been tracking him ever since, and because he had continuously been going to your office and apartment, they knew all about you. 
She even told you the truth about how she had met Matt, and how it had all been a set up by Stick to bring him back to their side; to fight the war that he had been warning them both about. 
“I don’t know what Matthew has told you about me. Probably nothing good. But I need you to know…I did love him. That’s why I left. I realized…he wasn’t like us. He would never be like us. He was too…good. He didn’t belong with Stick and I. I didn’t want to be the one to put that light out inside of him. I didn’t want anyone to. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble between the two of you the night of the gala. I wasn’t aware that he hadn’t told you that I was in town, or what we were doing. I swear I was only trying to protect him.”
There was a glimmer of regret dancing along Elektra’s waterline, and you could see her own pain shadowing the faint smile on her lips. 
“You weren’t the one that lied to me.”
Elektra blew out a breath as she took a seat in front of you, dragging her teeth along her bottom lip as she nodded.
“Matthew always has pure intentions. I know that. But for someone who is incredibly intelligent, he’s also a complete dumbass. He tries so hard to do the right thing…but he doesn’t stop to think about if he’s doing it the right way. Look I don’t…I don’t know anything about the two of you, and I’m not telling you what to do, but I can tell you that he is absolutely in love with you.”
“So…you didn’t come back to New York for him?”
“For his help, yes. To rekindle whatever we had, no. But for the record, even if I had, I wouldn’t have stood a chance in Heaven or Hell against you.”
There was something oddly comforting about Elektra’s words and the timid smile on her lips. It eased some of the tension pent up in your body, and you felt a little lighter as you let a deep exhale out through your parted lips. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you glanced over at her as you anxiously twisted a ring around your index finger.
“I…thank you. You…you didn’t have to…do all of this. I hate to even ask anything of you when you’re already doing so much for me but…can you just…not tell Matt I’m here? I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”
Elektra flashed you a pitiful smile as she gave a slight nod of her head.
“Of course. It’ll be our little secret.”
It only took Matt three days to figure out that Elektra had been hiding you, and as he burst through the front door of her penthouse, he was absolutely incandescent. 
“You have got to be fucking kidding me. You’ll have a sleepover with her, but you won’t talk to me?”
“Watch your tone, Matthew.”
Elektra glared over at Matt, tightening her grip on the knife in her hand that was hovering over a cutting board filled with various ingredients. 
Matt furiously tore off his glasses as he angrily pointed his finger in her direction, the top of his lip curling up into a menacing snarl.
“I don’t want to hear shit from you after you-“
“I protected her because you led the Hand right to her. You’re fucking welcome by the way.”
Elektra let out a deep angry exhale as she turned to face you with a sour pout on her lips. She gestured her head in Matt’s direction with a quirk of her brow.
“I can get rid of him if you’d like.”
“Excuse me?”
“I wasn’t speaking to you, Matthew.”
Sighing heavily as you let go of the whisk in your hand, you pushed the large bowl of batter forward on the kitchen island and wiped your hands off on a small towel. Rubbing your hands over your tired eyes, you waved your hand dismissively towards Elektra.
“It’s…it’s fine, Ellie. I’ll deal with him.”
Elektra eyed you for a moment before shooting another glare in Matt’s direction. She dropped the knife onto the cutting board, wiping her hands off on the same towel before clasping them together loudly.
“Right, well, I’ll leave the knife out just in case. Remember the three main areas I taught you to stab. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
After you watched Elektra disappear upstairs into her bedroom, you turned around to face Matt. His eyes were absolutely wild with rage and his face was morphed into complete disbelief as he blanched at you.
“Ellie? Since when the hell is she Ellie?”
“Since she’s the only one around here that tells me the truth about what the fuck is going on.”
Matt clenched his fists at his sides as he stared blankly over at you, and you watched as a muscle feathered in his jaw. 
“What did she tell you?”
“Everything you didn’t.”
You could practically feel the anger radiating off of him in waves, but you had more of a right to be pissed off than he did. Matt shoved his hand into his pocket, producing a shiny silver object that he held out in front of him between his thumb and index finger.
“What is this?”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you arched one of your brows as you looked at him.
“A key.”
Your key. 
Matt’s nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw, quickly crossing the distance between you to stand directly in front of you.
“Don’t get smart with me. Do you have any idea how it felt to wake up that next morning and you were gone? All of you, your things, everything gone? And to find this on the table? Not even-“
“I’d imagine it was as shitty as you coming home covered in red lipstick and smelling like your ex lover's perfume. Or as shitty as finding out you lied about where you were and who you were with, and that you kissed her and lied about that too.”
Matt ran his hand through his hair quickly in annoyance before dragging it roughly down his jaw, shaking his head as he flung his arms up in the air with frustration.
“Goddamnit Y/N, we talked about that! We worked through it. Then you just…disappeared and ignored me for weeks. You won’t return any of my calls, you won’t open the door, I can’t even-“
“We didn’t talk about anything, Matt! You kept trying to justify your actions and completely ignored how I was feeling. We didn’t work through anything. You manipulated me and we fucked. That is not working through it.”
Matt sighed with exasperation as he stared at you incredulously. 
“I did not manipulate you. Fuck, I told you that I wanted to marry you and have a family witn you-“
“In the middle of sex, Matthew! I don’t know if you even meant that, or if it was a heat of the moment thing. And don’t you dare say you didn’t manipulate me. You took advantage of the fact that I was frustrated and that you hadn’t touched me in weeks. You knew I would give into you. How do you think that makes me feel? That you completely ignored my feelings, manipulated me into sex for forgiveness, and filled my head with all those promises knowing that our relationship was in a bad spot. I can’t trust a word that you say because you can’t seem to stop lying to me.”
Matt’s anger evaporated the second he tasted the salt of your tears in the air. He hung his head between his shoulders in shame, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as the severity of your words nestled in the silence. Letting out a soft sigh, Matt’s tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips.
“You’re right.”
His hazel eyes were more clear without the cloud of vexation, and you could see the way they glistened with regret. Matt’s plump lips fell into a frown, and guilt seemed to tug the rest of his features down like gravity.
“I’m sorry. I swore to you that I wouldn’t lie after I told you the truth about me. I broke my promise to you, I betrayed your trust, and I disrespected our relationship. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never, ever meant to hurt you. I didn’t want you to get mad that I was working with Elektra. I didn’t think…I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t considering your feelings. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I could’ve come up with another diversion. All of this could’ve been avoided if…if I had just told you the truth.”
Matt let out a shaky breath as his blank eyes glanced upwards, closing for a moment as he clenched his fists by his sides. A stray tear slipped past his lashes when he opened his eyes again, slowly lowering himself onto his knees before you as he reached for one of your hands to hold.
“I have been…absolutely fucking miserable these past few weeks, and that’s my own fault. I know that. I have hated not getting to feel your touch, or hear your voice, or be able to tell you how much I love you. I am so fucking sorry if I ever made you question how I feel about you, but Y/N I meant every word that night. You are the love of my life. You do belong with me. I do want to marry you and start a family. I swear to God, I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back and your forgiveness. Just tell me what I have to do sweetheart, and I’ll do it.”
It broke your heart to see Matt look so distraught. It stung even more than he was on his knees begging for forgiveness instead of asking you to spend the rest of your lives together, but there was an undeniable conviction in his voice. It soothed the pang in your chest slightly to finally hear him acknowledge his fuck up, and apologize for it instead of getting defensive. Elektra had melted away the insecurity you had felt with her confession, and the frightened look that shattered Matt’s face showed you just how scared he was to lose you.
There was still a lot of work to be done on your relationship. It wasn’t going to be fixed overnight, and Matt was going to have to put in a lot of effort to earn your trust back, and prove to you just how much your relationship mattered to him. But you were in love with him, and you knew there was no one else for you but him.
“You can start by taking care of this…”Hand” shit. I’m not loving the fact that I’m being hunted by zombie ninjas because of my idiot boyfriend.”
Matt’s ears instantly perked up, and a lopsided hopeful grin stretched across his lips.
“I’m still your boyfriend?”
“For now. You’re dangerously close to being replaced by Elektra, though. She’s always bluntly honest, and her bed is way nicer.”
You never in a million years thought that your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend would fight just as hard as he would to keep you safe, but Elektra had. She protected you from The Hand just as fiercely as Matt did, nearly giving her life for you both, and now she was securing the last button on the back of your wedding dress and staring at you in the mirror with a knowing smirk. 
The morning you slipped out of Matt’s apartment heartbroken and desolate seemed like a lifetime ago as you prepared yourself to meet him at the altar in just under an hour. 
“What’s on your mind, little dove? Got cold feet?”
Elektra quirked one of her dark brows as she stared at your reflection with her signature smirk. Karen had left the two of you alone to go check on Matt and Foggy, and she was helping you with your finishing touches. 
After helping save New York, Elektra had stuck around, and to both of your surprises, and certainly to Matt’s, you two had become very close. The more you got to know the more vulnerable side of her, the more you felt for her. She wasn’t the villain that everyone had painted her out to be. She had been a scared little girl, manipulated with a promise of something resembling a family, only to be broken down and molded into something to orchestrate death and destruction instead. It wasn’t unlike what Stick had done to Matt. As a matter of fact, it was worse. 
“If I said yes?”
Elektra hummed quietly as she moved your hair off your shoulder, leaning in to rest her chin on it as she wrapped you up in a hug from behind with a grin on her lips. 
“Ever been to Paris this time of year? It’s beautiful. We could be at a private air strip before anyone even knew what happened. Matthew is fast, but he can’t outrun a Maserati.”
A grin broke out across your lips as you giggled, squeezing onto Elektra’s arms when she winked. You had never been more sure of anything in your life than you were sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Matt Murdock. Both of you knew that. But you also both knew he was eavesdropping just on the other side of the church, and it was incredibly easy to rile him up.
As if on cue, Foggy suddenly burst through the door and pointed a finger at Elektra with an expression of pure irritation on his face. 
“Whatever you’re telling her, knock it off. You’re scaring the shit out of him, and he’s already convinced enough as it is that she's not gonna walk down that aisle.”
“Oh relax, Franklin. Girls got to have their fun, yeah? Besides, I thought they called him the man without fear.” 
Foggy rolled his eyes as he shut the door behind him, walking over to shoo Elektra away as he stood behind you and adjusted your veil down your back.
“Yeah, until it comes to her. Go head to head with the Punisher who's notorious for using automatic weapons with sticks? Sure. Take on a weird cult of ninjas that can’t die and like to use really sharp swords also only with sticks? Why not. Fuck it, let’s use every goddamn tall building in Hell’s Kitchen for parkour practice. But ask the woman I’m ridiculously in love with to marry me and put up with my shit for the rest of our lives? That’s where the devil seems to tuck his tail between his legs.”
Matt had been an absolute nervous wreck the night he proposed to you. He had brought you to the same restaurant that he had taken you to for dinner on your first date, and was fidgety the whole time. Every time you asked if he was okay, he swore up and down that he was, and you figured there was just something overwhelming one or several of his senses. But then you noticed that despite it being mid November, he was sweating as you walked hand in hand through Central Park, and his hand kept nearly slipping from yours. Finally, you stopped and turned to face him, placing your hand on his chest to steady him.
“Okay, what’s going on with you?”
“N-Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s keep-”
“No, you aren’t. You’ve been acting strange all night. You’ve been anxious and fidgety, and now you’re sweating.”
“It’s hot-”
“It’s November, Matthew.”
Matt’s lips parted slightly as he went to protest, but nothing came out. He was usually good at coming up with excuses on the spot, but whatever was going on with him had seemed to completely take over his mind. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as he averted his gaze to the ground, watching as he clenched his fist by his side. You took a step forward to place your hands gently on his cheeks to cradle his face.
“Matty, please talk to me. Is something wrong?”
“No, no nothing…nothing is wrong.”
“Then what is going on? What’s got you so worked up?”
“I’m not worked up-”
“Matthew.”
Matt let out a sigh of defeat hearing the tone in your voice, his tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips as he attempted to flash you a reassuring smile.
“Can we just keep walking please? There’s something I wanna show you.”
There was evident excitement in Matt’s voice, but it didn’t resonate with you. The way he kept dodging your questions was beginning to put you in a sour mood, conjuring up a bitter taste of realization that he was on the cusp of breaking an oath he had sworn to keep. Dropping your hands quickly from his face, you shook your head in frustration as you turned around swiftly to walk ahead without him.
“You promised me you wouldn’t do this anymore.”
You only made it two steps forward before Matt blurted out a confession laced with full blown panic.
“I’m in love with you.”
Immediately pausing, you turned around to look at him in complete confusion.
“I know that, Matt.”
Matt let out a heavy exhale as he rushed forward and took your hand into his, scrunching up his nose as he shook his head quickly.
“No, I…I mean…that I’m…fuck, this isn’t going right.”
Matt pinched the bridge of his nose as his lips pursed into a frown, and you eyed him curiously as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“What isn’t going right? What are you talking about?”
“Will you just…come with me? Please? I really need to show you something.”
Matt’s face was twisted in what looked like agony, and the desperation in his voice made you nervous. You didn’t think you had ever seen him look so…terrified, not even that night at Elektra’s when he thought you were going to leave him for good. You allowed Matt to guide you further through the park, venturing off down a path only he seemed to know, and stopping once you reached a gate that was covered in ivy. He pulled a key from his pocket to unlock it, and pushed it open with a slight creak, gesturing for you to enter first with a timid smile.
A shocked gasp flew past your lips as you stepped inside. It was an isolated garden, completely closed in by ivy covered walls, lit up only with various strings of white twinkle lights and the glow of the moon. To your delight, there were several plants and flowers in full bloom, and the whole scene looked like a vibrant painting you would hang on your wall. 
“I hear this place is beautiful.”
Turning around to face Matt, you noticed that he had taken off his glasses, and was apprehensively turning them over in his hands over and over. The timid smile was still plastered on his lips, but his eyes were nearly blown open with distress.
“I…it’s…I don’t even know how to describe it. How…how did you find this?”
“Karen did. It’s technically private property owned by the city, but Brett owed me a favor.”
The puzzlement on your face only grew as you stared at Matt, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you gestured around.
“Is this why you’ve been acting so weird? You didn’t think I’d like the surprise?”
Matt’s eyes darted back and forth blankly as he dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, swallowing thickly as he placed his glasses into his jacket pocket and took a few cautious steps forward.
“I…I hoped that you’d like it.”
“Matty, I love it. It’s so beautiful. But you didn’t have to be so nervous to show me this. You could’ve taken me to a random alley and I still would’ve loved it.”
Matt let out a breathless laugh as he shook his head, clicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he smiled softly.
“Then it wouldn’t have been special.”
A furrow formed between your brows as you looked at him, trying to decipher all the cryptic pieces he was laying in front of you.
“What wouldn’t have?”
Matt was silent for a moment as he fixed his gaze on your face, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly as he studied you. Finally letting out a deep breath, he reached out to take one of your hands, brushing his thumb delicately over your knuckles as a slow smile spread over his lips.
“I told you, I’m in love with you.”
“And I’m in love with you, Matty.”
Matt took a step closer as he brought his other hand up to cradle your face, a tender smile on his lips as he rubbed his thumb soothingly over your cheek. You couldn’t tell if it was the reflection of the lights in his eyes, but they looked glossy, almost as if he was about to cry, and it made you squeeze onto his hand tighter.
“You…are the first person that has ever truly understood me. The first that’s ever accepted and loved both sides of me. You’ve never shied away from one, or favored the other, or asked me to choose. You haven’t given up on me, even when I’ve given you plenty of reasons to. You are the best part of my day. I can’t tell you how…how happy it makes me to know that when I come home at night, you’re there waiting for me. And no matter what kind of day I’ve had, or how rough of a night it was, it…it doesn’t matter, because you’re there. You give me a reason to make it home. I can’t tell you how much I love that I get to fall asleep holding you and listening to your heartbeat, and start every day hearing your voice and kissing your lips. I have never felt as…happy…and light as I do with you. I want to spend the rest of my life feeling this way. I want to spend the rest of my life ending every night with you and starting every morning with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So-”
Matt let out a shaky breath as he slowly dropped his hand from your face and tightly held onto your hand. You were already in tears from Matt’s words before, but the moment he dropped down onto one knee before you, the floodgates opened and a choked sob caught in your throat as your other hand flew up to cover your mouth.
“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”
“Oh my God, Matty…yes…yes!”
Matt blew out a shaky breath of relief as he closed his eyes for a moment, the tension in his shoulders evaporating right in front of your eyes as he let his head drop. You couldn’t help but laugh as you stared down at him in perplexity.
“Did you think I was going to say no?”
Matt rubbed his hand down his face to wipe away his own tears, letting out another breathless laugh and sniffling as he looked up at you with a goofy grin on his lips.
“Figured I had a fifty-fifty shot.”
Lips splitting into the biggest smile you had ever seen, Matt quickly rose to his feet and grabbed your face, capturing your mouth in a deep kiss as you gripped onto his jacket to hold him close. All of a sudden he quickly pulled away and shoved his hand down into his pocket.
“Oh shit, uh…sorry…I…here.”
Matt laughed nervously as he pulled a small velvet black box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring inside. Your mouth fell open as a gasp escaped, and you gripped onto Matt’s forearm as fresh tears welled in your eyes.
“Matty…”
“Do…do you like it?”
“I…I love it. It’s…it’s perfect. How did you-”
“I had some help.”
Glancing up at Matt through your teary eyes, you watched as a bashful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Pulling the ring from the box, Matt gently grabbed onto your wrist with a shaky hand, and carefully slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit absolutely perfectly, and you stared down at it in awe as it dazzled beneath the lights. You were overwhelmed with so many emotions, and you didn’t know what to do other than grab Matt’s face and pull him down for a searing kiss. 
The two of you gripped onto each other as if you were afraid the other might disappear if you loosened your grasp even the slightest. You were a flurry of lips and teeth, trying to devour the other’s desire, consuming the taste of happiness together. Matt laid you down in the soft grass of the garden floor and made love to you right there, intertwining his hand with yours that wore the symbol of his love and promise to you.
A burst of laughter ripped through your chest at that memory of Matt’s nervousness as you covered your mouth, staring at Foggy knowingly in the reflection of the mirror. Elektra’s mouth split into a huge grin as she rolled her eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your temple and giving Foggy’s shoulder a squeeze on her way to the door.
“Alright, alright. Let me go do damage control. I’ll see you both out there. Oh, and Y/N, darling?”
You turned your head to look over at her as she paused in the doorway.
“Yeah?”
A warm smile tugged at the corners of Elektra’s mouth as she stared over at you, leaning her head briefly against the door. 
“You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”
You pursed your lips slightly as your face twisted up faintly into an expression of gratitude, returning her smile with one of your own.
“Thank you, Ellie.”
Elektra flashed you a quick wink, closing the door behind her to leave you alone with Foggy.
“She’s right, you know. You do look beautiful.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth as you looked at Foggy in the mirror, arching one of your brows quizzically.
“Did you just agree with her?”
“That stays between us. This is a one time thing.”
Laughing softly, you turned around to pull Foggy into a tight hug, sighing in relaxation as his arms came around you to hold you securely to his chest. There didn’t seem to be anything that a hug from Foggy Nelson couldn’t fix. All of the pent up nerves seemed to dissipate from the warmth of his embrace, and you suddenly felt a million times lighter.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have anything to thank me for.”
“I have everything to thank you for.”
“Well in that case, I think Foggy would be a great name for your future kid.”
A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as you giggled, pulling back slightly to peer up at him with a grin.
“I’ll put in a good word.”
After Foggy left you alone to go rejoin Matt and the others, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your dress for the millionth time. A part of you was still in disbelief that today was the day you were marrying your best friend. Matt had sworn to not take the second chance you had given him for granted, and had been treating it as if it were sacred. He opened up to you about everything now, even the rough nights that plagued his thoughts, and the horrors he desperately wanted to protect you from. There wasn’t a single thought or emotion he hid anymore, and he’d even gotten better about finding balance between each of his lives. That wasn’t to say that you both didn’t struggle from time to time still, but your relationship was the healthiest it had ever been.
A knock against the door tore you from your thoughts, and a smile quickly spread across your lips at the sight of the figure leaning against the doorway.
“Hey big guy.”
Frank’s mouth split into a grin as he looked at you, giving a slight nod of his head in your direction.
“Hey darlin’.”
Turning away from the mirror to face him fully, you swallowed thickly as you smoothed your trembling hands down the sides of your dress and gestured to it.
“I look okay?”
Frank cocked his head to the side as he smirked, taking you in with his eyes as he took a few steps forward to stand in front of you.
“You kiddin’? You’re gonna knock Red on his ass.”
You didn’t hardly have any family outside of the chosen one you had made with Matt, Foggy, Karen, Elektra, and Frank. When you’d let it slip to him that you would be walking down the aisle alone, Frank instantly offered to be the one to walk you. He confessed that it would probably be the closest he would ever get to walking his own daughter down the aisle, and you graciously accepted without hesitation. 
A smirk curled at the corner of your mouth as you let your eyes wander over his large figure, finally meeting his deep brown curious eyes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…”
“Dressed up, yeah yeah. Don’t get used to it.”
“I was gonna say not covered in blood.”
Frank let out a deep chuckle as he shook his head slowly, looking down at you with a dazzling grin on his lips.
“Figured I could behave for a few days so I didn’t mess up your pretty dress, yeah?”
“How generous of you.”
As the processional music started to play, the nerves you felt earlier returned full force, and you gripped onto Frank’s arm tightly as the reality of the situation started to sink in. This was actually happening. Matt was waiting for you on the other side of these doors, and in just a few moments, he would finally be your husband. Tears started to form in the corners of your eyes as your emotions started to catch up with you, thinking about everything the two of you had gone through together, and how it had all led up to this moment. Frank’s lips brushed against your cheek as he bent down to whisper into your ear.
“You say the word, and I’ll get you outta here. No questions asked, yeah?”
Gripping a little tighter onto his arm, you leaned into Frank’s embrace as a shaky breath left your lips.
“Where would we go?”
“Wherever you want, darlin’. I could hide you places even he couldn’t find.”
You swore you heard Matt groan loudly on the other side of the door, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you dipped your head back to look up at Frank. Taking a deep breath in, you exhaled slowly through your parted lips and nodded with a soft smile.
“I’m ready.”
Frank gave a slight nod as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, dropping his left eye in a wink as he smiled.
“Attagirl.”
“Frankie?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Don’t let me fall, please.”
Frank wrapped his right arm tightly around your waist, holding onto your hand with his left one as he squeezed it gently.
“Never.”
»»———  ———««
“As absolutely beautiful as you are in this dress, it’s time for it to come off.”
“You don’t wanna leave it on?”
“I’d love to, sweetheart, but it’s kind of in my way. Besides, it’s so pretty, I’d hate to ruin it with all the things I wanna do to you, Mrs. Murdock.”
A soft gasp left your lips as Matt gently sucked on that sensitive spot on your neck below your ear, and you could feel him grin against your skin when your heart skipped. He had taken every opportunity throughout the evening to call you that, or refer to you as his wife. Every time it hit your ears, a buzz of serotonin flooded your bloodstream and left you hazy.
“And what, exactly, is it that you wanna do to me, Mr. Murdock?”
Matt’s fingertips brushed lightly along the exposed skin of your bare back, causing a shudder to course through you while his nimble fingers delicately tugged the zipper of your dress agonizingly slow down your back. His stubble tickled against your cheek as he nuzzled your jaw, inhaling your scent deeply while leaving open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck.
“Fuck a baby into you.”
Gripping tightly onto his suit jacket, you were suddenly taken back to that night over a year ago when he’d first made that promise, and his words from that night flowed through your ears. 
I’m gonna marry you someday, Y/N.
I will put a ring on your finger tomorrow. 
I will put a baby in you tonight.
A fresh wave of mixed emotions glossed over your eyes, and Matt slowly pulled back to stare blankly down at your face with an expression of concern as he cradled your face in his hand.
“What is it, angel?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Matt tilted his head to the side slightly as his honey hazel eyes gazed down at you, tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips before they pulled into a timid smile.
“Was it the wedding you always wanted?”
Bringing your own hand up to cup Matt’s jaw, you pulled him in closer to touch your foreheads together as you whispered softly.
“Of course it was, Matty. You were the groom.”
Matt had been continuously asking you the same question all night, wanting to make sure you were absolutely happy with the biggest day of your lives. Honestly, it had been perfect. Karen had taken over as your unofficial wedding planner, and between her, Marci, and Elektra, you’d hardly had to lift a finger. Getting married in a church wasn’t a huge deal for you since you weren’t religious, but you knew how much it meant to Matt, and you offered to marry him in his church where his parents would’ve married. It was small and intimate, exactly what you both wanted.
The second you stepped through the open doors with Frank, Matt immediately started to cry. You were only a second behind him as soon as you saw him, the two of you gripping onto each other’s hands as Father Lantom led the ceremony, bringing everyone in attendance to tears as you exchanged your heartfelt vows. Matt had captured your lips in a deep kiss as soon as Father Lantom uttered his name, and he lightly smacked him over the back of the head with his bible to remind him that he was in church when the kiss started getting a little too heated for the house of God. Maggie had simply laughed, reminding Father Lantom that Matthew was indeed Jack Murdock’s son.
The reception was held at Josie’s where you had first met Matt over two years ago, courtesy of Karen. Foggy had drunkenly climbed onto the bar to deliver his best man speech which only drew further tears out of everyone from laughter by telling the most embarrassing story he could conjure about Matt from college, and also from the passionate gratitude he showered you in for making his best friend the happiest he had ever seen him.
Matt told me once he thought you were an angel created by God himself, and sent down from Heaven just for him, exactly when he needed you. I believe that’s true. There’s no other explanation for how perfect you are for him. Thank you for bringing my brother the happiness he’s always deserved. I love you both.
Karen could hardly contain her own tears as she spoke fondly about you and Matt, bringing even Frank and Jessica to tears with her sweet words.
I knew the night you met Matt that you loved him. I could see it in your eyes. Thank you for loving him the way that you do. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me as your best friend for you to end up with someone like Matt. Because I know he will take care of you, and protect you, and love you with everything he’s got, and I know you’ll do the same for him. I’m just so happy my two favorite people found each other.
“Today was the happiest day of my life. A day I never honestly thought would come, but I’m so happy it did, and I’m so happy it was with you. I wouldn’t change anything about it. I mean…apart from everyone offering to help you runaway, but.”
A loud laugh slipped past your ears at the annoyed look on Matt’s face, countered by the smirk that was threatening to spill across his lips. You gently squeezed his cheeks to purse his lips into a pout, leaning in to kiss them softly.
“You know they were joking.”
“No, Frank and Elektra were serious. They were actually gonna smuggle you out.”
Giggling softly, you shook your head as you leaned in to press your lips against Matt’s softly once more.
“Well I didn’t run, did I?”
Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“No. Still not sure why you didn’t.”
“There was cake.”
Matt rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up above you, and you giggled uncontrollably as you grabbed onto his tie to pull him back down towards you.
“I’m kidding! You know someone has to keep the Devil in line.”
Matt clicked his tongue against his cheek, narrowing his eyes slightly as he cocked his head to the side and stared down at you with a light smirk.
“That the only reason, then? Because you’re the only one that can?”
“I can think of a few more. Now, I thought you were helping me out of this dress?”
“I was.”
“Then be a good husband, Matthew, and help your wife.”
Matt’s eyes darkened considerably at the sultry tone of your voice, and a devilish grin took over his mouth as your beloved dimples settled in his inner cheeks. He was careful as he slipped the silk gown down your body, laying it carefully over the dresser before attacking your body with kisses once again. You frantically clawed at his jacket and dress shirt, blindly making quick work of his belt, already panting just from the idea of having your husband inside of you. There seemed to be a silent understanding between the two of you that neither of you had the patience for foreplay tonight, and all you both wanted in that moment was to be absolutely consumed by one another. 
As Matt settled between your spread thighs, a wash of nerves made you shiver, and you found yourself placing your shaky palm on his chest over his heart to get his attention.
“Matty…did you…are we…you really want a baby with me? Right now?”
Matt tilted his head in confusion as he let his eyes blankly wander over you, placing his palm flat on the pillow by your head as he leaned in closer towards you. You and Matt had been talking more seriously about starting a family after you got engaged, and you stopped taking birth control a few months before the wedding to make sure it was fully out of your system for when you two were ready to actually start trying.
“Of course I do. Why? Did you change your mind?”
“No! No no, it’s not that. I just…you aren’t going to miss it? I mean…the city means so much to you, Matty, and-”
“Hey, you mean the most to me. You’re the love of my life, sweetheart.”
You wrapped your fingers around Matt’s wrist as he held your face, nibbling at your bottom lip as you let out a shaky breath.
“I know, baby. I just…I know how much you need that part of yourself-”
“Not anymore. All I need is you. I’m still protecting the city, and the people in it, everyday. I’m still helping people. But New York doesn’t really need Daredevil anymore. It has people to protect it, like Luke and Jessica. And Colleen, Danny, even Frank and Elektra. You need me. And the one thing I care more about protecting and keeping safe is you, and our family.”
“I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret hanging up the suit, or feel any kind of resentment-”
“Sweetheart, listen to me. I could never regret anything with you. How could I feel even an ounce of resentment when you’re offering to give me the greatest gift in the world that I’ll never be able to repay you for, hm?”
Matt carefully wiped a stray tear away from your eye as you reached up to gently grab onto the back of his neck, pulling him down so that his chest was flush to yours as you whispered softly.
“I just want to make you happy, Matty.”
“You do, angel. Everyday. You are my happiness. Now, can I please make love to my wife?”
Matt took his time as he entered you, peppering kisses on every inch of your body he could find, moving his hips lazily as he fucked into you slowly to ensure you both felt everything. Interlacing your fingers together, he held your hands above your head and squeezed them tightly, repeatedly whispering into your ear how much he loved you, how beautiful and perfect you were for him, and how badly he wanted you to give him a baby. Matt pulled your legs tightly around his waist, angling your hips to reach the most delicious depths within you, spilling his seed into the deepest layer of your garden to plant the foundation for the family you both so desperately wanted together. 
Neither of you could get enough, and Matt fucked you sweetly and slowly several more times into the early hours of the night until your bodies simply couldn’t take anymore. He refused to withdraw himself from you, keeping his soft cock nestled within you, preventing any ounce of your future he had emptied into you from slipping out as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Matt placed his palm over your lower belly, absentmindedly stroking his thumb in slow circles over the first home your child would have.
“I love you so much, angel.”
“I love you so much, Matty.”
Matt was here. Matt loved you. Matt was yours.
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @thychuvaluswife
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beardedalcoholic · 16 days
Text
Memories of a Soul
Galgac couldn’t believe his luck.
He cursed the circumstances but promised himself he would make the most of it. For a space faring species like himself this was possibly a once in a lifetime opportunity for not only himself but his race and the galactic community as a whole.
A human was dying, an actual human! The tiny gods that ascended to the stars upon pillars of flame and madness, the seemingly unstoppable tide of warriors risen from their garden world of death.
Over a hundred cycles had passed since they took to the galactic scene and in that time, they had started as many wars as they had stopped and brought a level of culture unseen beforehand.
Wars between worlds that had been raging beyond the memory of those involved had been quelled by their words and ideas, while oppressive regimes and entire governments had been toppled from their previously unreachable heights.
With a standard lifespan many times that of their space sailing counterparts it was not unheard of for a human to be entrusted with knowledge, items, messages or words of wisdom for later generations. 
Added onto this seemingly impossible life span it was well known that humans simply did not accept death. Injuries that would kill many other species were more of an inconvenience to the humans, some looked at the loss of limbs and organs as a challenge to come back from and try again while others used their story as a way to teach and warn future generations of miniature titans. 
================================================
For a species known for being able to dive deep into the psyche of practically any and all species, humans were like forbidden treasure troves of knowledge and wisdom: firsthand experience of historical events, important conversations, debated actions of who did what? and why?
All of this information and more could usually be found in the mind of a human…of course there was only the small matter of GETTING the information.
Human minds were said to be nigh impenetrable to all but the cleverest of infiltrators and even then, it was said once you got in there was no telling what you would, or could find. Human mental defenses were said to range from endless labyrinths that constantly changed their configuration to impossible creatures from the humans’ imagination.
To be invited to meet a human was a great honor, to meet one dying of old age was thought among some to be impossible as many species still believed them immortal. To not only be allowed to enter the human’s mind, but to be invited to do so was almost too incredible to believe.
“You’re Galtakal’s kid aren’t you?” The raspy voice from the bed snapped Galgac out of his mental musings.
Following the voice to its source on the hospital bed Galgac focused on the human, thin hair the color of silver, skin wrinkled and spotted with age unheard of among most species, muscles that at one time could bend Taraxian steel and break Fomotian carapace lay withered and atrophied as mere shadows of their former glory. 
Lines creased the human’s face telling of cycles beyond measure spent smiling and laughing…as well as snarling and frowning…the stories this human’s physical self could tell alone were staggering. The eyes though were what nearly stole Galgac’s breath…blue like a clear warmth cycle with not a cloud in sight, yet still sharp as a mono-molecular blade…age may have robbed this human of his physical might, but even time could not seem to dull the mind of this once legendary creature.
“Y-yes, um yes sir, Galtakal was my sire…how could you know that…sir?” The human laughed quietly to himself before he answered.
“The bio-luminescent spots on your face, they are almost exactly like your fathers’ spots…you carry yourself the same as well…arrogance like none other, well deserved and justifiable no doubt, but still I want to punch you in the face just like the first time I met your father. I miss him you know, he deserved a better death than what he got…self-sacrificing prick left you a message by the way, I imagine you will find it at some point.” Galgac was speechless…this human had known his sire, it sounded like they knew each other personally even. 
Walking forward Galgac reached out to the human and laid his webbed digits within the human’s grip, barely restrained strength still coursing through the powerful muscles and bones even in his advanced age. With a feeling not unlike having his brain liquified and then vacuumed through a long tube Galgac slid his awareness down his arm and into the human before him. 
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Galgac found himself on a battlefield on a planet he had never been to, human atmospheric air fighters...jets they called them...screamed overhead with the battle cries of war maddened harbingers of an apocalypse.
Bullets split the air with sonic booms and whizzed like furious insects while lasers and bolts of superheated plasma melted armor...bombs went off far away, no...closer...to close!
Galgac found himself picked up by an ethereal giant and slammed down on his back, surely such an impact just broke his entire back plate and probably a few organs were going to be bleeding...no, he was getting back up...how was he getting back u-
*OOF!*
Suddenly a body slammed into him just before a searing line of plasma wrent the air where his head had been seconds before. 
Looking towards the figure that had just slammed him back into the ground, and saved his life in no uncertain terms, Galgac was shocked…
“Father?” The face looking at him was much younger, but it was unmistakably the face of his sire. 
“Are you injured human? Can you still fight?” Galgac nearly lost the connection to the humans’ mind with the flood of emotions that came with that question. 
A figure blocked the unknown planet’s sun, a long blade raised to strike the both of them in a single blow. With unfamiliar muscles and reactions that superseded conscious thought Galgac wrapped his father with arms that felt as though they could crush the seemingly fragile body within their grasp to a pulp and rolled to the side until he was looking down upon his father from a reversed position of their previous one. 
Adrenalin surged, muscles tensed, nerves fired like atomic engines and Galgac felt his new and unfamiliar body sing with a power he had never known...he wanted to run, he wanted to mate, he wanted to fight, oh how he wanted to fight, to strike down the enemy and scream his power to the skies of this alien world in defiance of all attempts to defeat him.
Surging to his feet and drawing the combat vibra-blade from his shoulder sheath Galgac spun to engage the enemy, only for the visage of the human from the hospital bed to appear, grab him by the throat and lift him up and out of his new body. 
“Sorry about that, Galtakal told me that might happen but I didn’t really think about it until a few seconds ago...I guess the thoughts of your father got me thinking about the first time we met. He saved my life you know, I saved his in return a few seconds later but that was irrelevant…”
Galgac tried to focus on what was his and what was memory, the feeling of being human for just those few seconds was intoxicating.
The power contained in the limbs, seeing the world in spectrums of color and depth so vastly different than his own, senses all on fire from the bloodlust of battle sending him so much information about his surroundings. He was amazed the humans could possibly process it all...and there, in front of him he saw the human whose mind he was now intruding upon, watching his past self and Galgac’s sire fight side by side.
Like two dancers they spun around each other...no... the human ducked and wove like a zephyr of cutting wind around his sire, slicing with his blade and drawing blood with every strike while his sire would spin in place from one target to the next, expertly placing blaster rounds through vital points. 
Seeing his sire like this was...jarring to say the least, for so long he had known him as a peace loving and quiet individual. Seeing one of his progenitors as a whirling dervish of war and death seemingly moving in time with a human was...well he would have to explore those thoughts later, for now he had years of memories to view. 
“Come on lad, let me show you around a bit.” Hearing the voice of the human whose mind he was intruding upon just before a powerful hand fell upon his shoulder gave him just enough time to brace himself. The world around them seemed to blur and melt into a confusing wash of colors before seeming to solidify into a new scene, thankfully less chaotic. 
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Looking around, Galgac realized he was on a ship...by the markings upon the bulkheads it was... yes, the UGF Predatory Might, the first ship designed by humans and built by the Unified Galactic Federation.
Seeing the human begin walking down the hall Galgac followed him and did his best to pay attention to everything at once, this was a ship not often seen by non-humans and even then, it was only really sent for one of two reasons...War and Relief.
This ship alone contained enough armaments to send most smaller celestial bodies spinning into a star while also boasting one of the most advanced medical facilities in the known universe. Walking along the hallways of the ship Galgac could only marvel at what he saw, humans walking to and fro with some running and dodging around their counterparts with grace unseen in most species and others casually reading various reports and updates on tablets while simultaneously avoiding collision with those around them. 
“Ya know I never did figure out how they did that...just dodge around everyone without looking up from reading and still be able to comprehend what they were looking at.” Spinning to look at the human, Galgac felt his luminescent markings begin to glow brighter...this human was not JUST a human as he had been led to believe...this was…
“B-b-battle Master Alventar…” This was one of the most highly decorated humans in recent history, he had personally led more successful war efforts than any other human on record and who had planned an almost incalculable amount of side missions, some of which wouldn’t be released for at least a century AFTER his death. 
“Yes yes...that was one of my titles, did they not tell you who I used to be? Ah well, no matter, come let me show you why we are here.” With an easy smile and almost eager stride the Battle Master continued on down the hall. Following quickly Galgac whipped his head around enough that if he was in a physical body his neck would be getting sore. “Here it is lad…” Battle Master Alventar said ahead of him as he slid through a door and then looked through a window, his voice was oddly low and almost reverently anticipatory. Catching up to the human Galgac gazed at him and noted the strange look upon his face.
A small smile graced the human’s face, coupled with the simple light of joy in his eyes seemed to shed decades from his visage.
Seeing him pressed up against the glass like a child caused Galgac to gaze in slight wonder...this human was one of the most brilliant battle minds of the known galaxy, he had seen more battle than most battalions and had been in command longer than Galgac had been alive, what could possibly be beyond that glass to make him act this way?
Turning from the Battle Master, Galgac gazed through the glass and was slightly taken aback...he actually had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, one of the figures within the room was a much younger version of the human standing next to him. 
Standing within the room was a mid-thirties Alventar standing next to a rather large woman, her stomach vastly bloated out, disproportionate to what the rest of her body would suggest would be normal. She should have looked like a slim, mocha skinned, dark-haired goddess of a woman but instead she was a rather large, round, goddess of a woman. Skin flushed with exertion and gleaming with sweat the young woman’s face was screwed tight with pain, breaths coming in short pants and gasps.
“What um...what am I looking at Battle Master...why are we here?” Galgac asked softly. 
“This is one of the most momentous days of my life… I tell you now lad, I have seen stars collapse and die, I have seen battlefields strewn with bodies uncounted and I have witnessed entire planets and civilizations reduced to dust but right here...this moment...this is when I witnessed the greatest miracle to grace this universe…the act of bringing LIFE into the world…” The look on the Battle Master’s face was one of tearful joy beyond anything Galgac could relate to. 
Feeling the psychic resonance between them Galgac was soon swept up in a wash of golden joy beyond anything he could have ever conceived. The feeling that flooded his entire mental being was enough to bring him to tears at the simple and expansive joy of it, vitality and warmth flooded down his limbs and seemed to invigorate his muscles and nerves until they were singing like a solar storm. 
“She’s here...my Star Queen…” The Battle Master spoke in a low voice usually reserved for quiet temples and altars. With a voice like he was invoking an ancient goddess’s name the Battle Master pressed himself harder against the glass and continued to speak.
“She was always the best thing I had ever done, my greatest accomplishment and most beautiful achievement…” Galgac reluctantly shook himself of the golden feelings and gazed within the room, there laying on the bed was the dark-haired woman holding a small bundle of blankets to her chest. 
Looking closer Galgac could see the small figure of a human baby swaddled in the blanket, it seemed to be rather upset at its current situation as it was apparently crying.
“I am afraid I do not understand...it is merely a child, there are many of them and they all seem to look like that when they are born…” In later years Galgac would learn how close he came to getting a royal ass whooping right then and that the look on the Battle Master’s face was not one of deep confusion but rather murderous incredulity.
“I have left entire continents barren and choked with death, I have orchestrated missions that toppled governments and overthrew tyrants across more star systems than I can remember but right there, in that room is the first woman to see me for more than the battle scars and nightmares. In her arms is the first time I have ever been associated with life...she is my greatest achievement because she is the result of a true partnership, a battle pair, life mates and soul bonds. That little girl in there has the beauty, strength, mind and absolute power of her mother….and I guess my eyes along with some other stuff…”
Looking into the room once more Glagac observed the interactions of the mother and child, how when the Battle Master was introduced he seemed to show a level of care and gentleness not usually seen in his species of near immortal battle fanatics. 
Watching the three of them, two elders and a newborn, Galgac saw how they instinctively covered the babe with their bodies from threats unknown, how they both glared at any medical professional that dared approach them even if for no more than a heartbeat. 
These were new parents and they would scorch all of creation if it meant their child was safe. The Golden sense of unparalleled joy was soon suffusing him as he opened himself to the psychic resonance again, except this time it was tempered and sheathed in a layer of Steel resolve. Galgac found himself almost overwhelmed at the sheer power behind these two humans’ determination that nothing would harm the child they brought into this world. 
The feeling of a hand landing solidly upon his shoulder caused Galgac to jump slightly. Whipping his head to the side he saw the Battle Master looking at him with an expression of profound sadness somehow mixed with un-ending joy. 
“Time to go lad...There is no way for me to ever repay you for this gift. You have allowed me to witness the birth of my firstborn once more, the birth of the Brightest Star in my Skies and it is something I never thought I would ever be able to experience again outside of my hazy memories.” Turning away from Galgac the Battle Master made his way to the infirmary door that opened onto a completely different world. 
“Well? You wanted to see my memories right?” Shaking himself of the lingering golden affects that the birth of his daughter caused, Galgac hurried to the new door and the memory that lay beyond.
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Walking out of another memory Galgac was giving a new definition to the term disoriented, his head was spinning from the sheer amount of LIFE this single human had experienced. In the last few heartbeats Galgac had experienced events and conversations that could topple at least two governments and probably allow him to black mail an entire planet and that was before the sheer amount of training and battle this man had seen.
“I...I had no idea…” Words did not easily surface in the hurricane of his mind after seeing what he had just witnessed. 
“I know right? Who would have thought your old man was such a badass! I still have no idea where he got a donkey, a ladder, three cases of genuine earth tequila and five pounds of C-4...but that had to be the best bachelor party Calament IV has ever seen.” Finishing this statement with a hearty laugh and missing Galgac’s response that he could have told the man how much of a badass his dad was, the two of them looked around at their newest setting.
Cheers and applause assaulted Galgac’s auditory receptors like a rogue wave upon a beach. Lights flashed and a sun much harsher than his world’s own glared at him from above. A gentle breeze was the only respite Galgac received from the sudden change in settings, this was one of the things he hated the most about going through another being’s memories: having to experience their life through what they remembered. The day could have been ten degrees cooler and the wind even stronger but if the human didn't remember it that way then Galgac sure wasn’t going to experience it that way. 
“Ughh...I was really hoping to never have to relive this day, I guess it makes sense to go from some of the best days of my life to one of the worst…still sucks though.” Galgac looked to his side after he acclimated to the harsh environment and was shocked once more. 
Standing beside him was the Battle Master, but much diminished from his previous gravitas.
Mid to late twenties at best, he almost looked like a child playing dress up. Fresh faced and with coal black hair he stood there in his dress uniform, creases on his pants crisp enough to slice fruit, shirt fitted perfectly and starched to within an inch of its life. He looked every inch the perfect young military tactician...except the eyes. The usually deep pools of light blue were now frozen over and shallow, the sight sent a shiver down Galgac’s short spine. 
“This was the day...the day I received the most painful reminder of my actions, the day that started my worst nightmares.” In a moment of dissonance he had not experienced before Galgac watched as the Battle Master seemed to step out of himself.
With one vision walking forward to the call of his name and the other standing there as solid as a Column of Reality Galgac watched as the Head of the United Galactic Federation gave a short speech and proceeded to pin a shining medal to the Battle Master’s chest. 
“Yes...a medal and speech about peace after one of the greatest instances of near xenocide in my species history. I was to be lauded and seen as a hero of war after making the final decision to nearly annihilate an entire race.”
The only warning Galgac had that something was going to change was the cold feeling of despair sliding through his veins like mercury right before the sunny day and gentle breeze blurred, running like water colors before Galgac’s eyes until he was standing upon the command deck of the UGF Last Resort, the most powerful warship in history. 
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“I ask you again Emperor, surrender for the sake of your future, for the sake of your planet and people!”
Captain Alventar pleaded across the vid screen to the enemy ruler. Pouring every ounce of desperation and desire for a peaceful outcome he could into his voice the captain leant over his console. Around him were men and women years into their fields of study and profession and all of them remained still over their stations as they awaited the final word from their Commanding Officer. The air was thick with tension and not a single member of the bridge crew dared even breathe too loudly as they awaited the reply from the Alanshel Emperor. 
“We will never surrender human.” The voice came over the translator in a vile hiss of contempt.
“The Alanshel empire will take our rightful place as rulers of this galaxy and we will subjugate all those that resist us!” It was only by the feeling of frustrated embers squirming across his skin like writhing eels that told Galgac what Captain Alventar was truly thinking, even more so when the embers cooled and became like shards of metal slowly sinking down to drive themselves into his very bones.
“I was afraid you would say that...Just remember that you brought this upon yourself...and may your Gods visit mercy upon your decision, for we will show none.” Galgac watched as the young captain stood up from his command console and seemed to simultaneously collapse and grow in presence. 
Squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine with a sharp inhale the Battle Master stood there with his eyes closed as if steeling himself. With smooth, almost dreamlike movements the newly born Battle Master reached forward and flipped the cover off a deceptively small but violently red button. 
“Let the record show all attempts were made to reach a peaceful solution...and all attempts failed...By the power and responsibility invested in my position as Captain of the UGF Last Resort and Leader of the Battle Fleet Armada, I am hereby calling a fleet wide orbital bombardment...all ships fire at will.”
That was all it took, pressing a small red button and the world seemed to turn in on itself for Galgac. The entire ship rocked and shuddered as its most powerful munitions were unleashed upon the world below. Across the view screens similar scenes played out from different angles...battle cruisers and warships ejecting massive payloads of death upon the planet below them. 
Galgac watched in awe as the planet lit up like small suns were suddenly birthed upon its surface. Looking around the Control Center he noticed almost everyone had either looked away or closed their eyes not wanting to witness the destruction being wrought beneath them...but not the Captain, not the Battle Master. 
Standing there in front of the poly-carbide windows of the Control Center the Captain stood with his arms clasped behind his back, shoulders rigid and legs straight...he would not watch what he had done on a screen when he could witness it firsthand. Galgac approached the Captain, the young Battle Master, and was shocked at what he saw...tears.
Tears were streaming silently down the Captain’s face as he looked down on the world he had just condemned to fire. His breathing was slow and steady, face seemingly carved in stone, shoulders and back locked in place as if he would defy the very laws of the universe to bend him from his stance. Yet his collar began to show signs of the tears soaking it and small plops rang like bells in the near silence as they fell to the floor. 
It was in that moment Galgac felt he began to understand, the decision to burn the world below him had elevated The Captain to his position of Battle Master and in doing so had carved irreparable scars into his soul. With every tear that fell from the Battle Master’s eye, with every new blast that lit up the world beneath them Galgac felt a new wound upon his very soul, a new scar freshly made. 
“Two billion, seven hundred and forty-three million dead in the first ten minutes of the barrage...by the calculations.” The voice that came from behind him was supposed to be the Battle Master, but it was hollow and dead as a tree left to die of disease. Turning away from the broken face of the newly minted Battle Master and ignoring the roiling flames and embers of the planet below them Galgac looked to the human whose mind he was currently walking through. Eyes like chips of ice, face hewn of stone and stance like a mountain enduring a hurricane, the True Battle Master stood there, tears streaming from his eyes as he looked down at the planet. The feeling that radiated from this pillar of strength was that of a human forged in battle, a cold breeze from Galgac’s homeworld at the turning of the seasons, soothingly cold and bracing but with the slightest change and without warning it could become sharp enough to slice to the bone.
“We will never know exactly how many died in the attack...never know how many were condemned to death by my actions, my failure to negotiate peace. I have been told by the best shrinks, negotiation experts, politicians, therapists etc etc that there was nothing I could have done. I have seen the reports, the statistical analysis and every piece of data we could possibly have of the war before, during and after this moment...it doesn’t help. I can hear them you know…” At this point Galgac thought he might be able to hear ‘them’...whoever ‘They’ were. 
“I can hear them in my dreams...in my moments of weakness. I can hear the screams and cries of those that are burning down there right now. I can hear the ones that were on the edge and that survived the initial blasts. I can hear the ones that looked up to the skies that day and screamed as they gazed upon judgment being passed upon them. I was Judge, Jury and Executioner that day and I have never been able to tell myself otherwise.” 
It was probably a trick of the memory but Galgac was certain the fires of the planet burned brighter and fiercer in the eyes of the True Battle Master for just an instant. The feeling of a turning season’s breeze faded only to be replaced by the feeling of a crushing weight placed upon him, as if chains forged in the fires of a dying planet were wrapping themselves around him.
Galgac was about to ask a question on what he was talking about when he felt a shift ...it was subtle but in no way insignificant. There was a weight behind this shift in the memory that defied the understanding of a mere mortal. Looking around himself Galgac noticed that things were becoming...wrong. 
Corners had too many angles...distances were infinitely far away and yet too close to comprehend. Walls were suddenly as solid as time and yet as fluid as thought, gravity became nothing more than a concept as he slammed to the deck of the Command Center with all the power of a star falling from the heavens and yet landing like a feather. 
“What...what is happening!?” Galgac asked as he picked himself up from the floor.  Looking over to the Battle Master he was surprised to see a look of curious anticipation upon his face. 
“Have you ever done this memory walk thing with someone who was dying? Ever heard of anyone who had?” The Battle Master asked with a sense of calm that seemed to spread to the surroundings.
The world seemed to solidify around them and once more Galgac was looking at nothing more than the memory of the ship’s interior. Looking back to the Battle Master, Galgac saw that he had begun walking down the main corridor towards engineering. Hurrying after the human Galgac cast one last look back to the planet as it burned beneath them under the continued barrage of the Fleet Armada. 
In the time it took Galgac to turn his head back to the front they were passing through the galley, by the time he comprehended this fact they had stepped through the security door to engineering, before Galgac could even begin to think of the reason they had traveled so far, he found himself standing in front of a door covered in a variety of signs denoting hazardous levels of radiation beyond the door.
The air was heated as if they were in a sauna and hummed with barely contained power. Noticing the signs posted around them and seeing the various gauges on display Galgac realized they were next to the main reactor. 
“The heart of the ship…” The voice from the Battle Master was almost reverent as he gazed at the door to the reactor chamber.
Walking as if in a dream the Battle Master stepped forward and opened the door before Galgac could stop him. Now Galgac had never been inside a reactor chamber but he was pretty sure it didn’t have such a bright light on the other side of the door. 
Seeing the human silhouetted before him in a light so bright it should have hurt his eyes Galgac wanted to look away but found that he couldn’t. This could be some kind of new memory and he had to bear witness to it. A feeling like the very depths of the void between stars slowly began tracing over Galgac’s skin, cold beyond anything he could ever comprehend, tracing lines of dancing non-feeling across his entire being...down to his very soul. 
“No Son, not that is not for you to see.”
A voice he had not thought he would ever hear again sounded in his ear just before a hand on his shoulder spun him around. Feeling himself wrapped in arms as familiar as they were comforting Galgac found he couldn’t speak past the raw feelings he was being bombarded with. Desperate yearning for something he had never had or experienced, a deep and ever-growing abyss of loneliness that promised to be relieved just beyond that light. Cold beyond anything he could ever understand battled with a warmth he could never forget while crushing solitude warred against familial companionship. “Father…”
The word was barely able to choke itself past the feelings he was trying to make sense of, Galgac drew upon the second-hand memory of a human’s power and will in order to wrap his own arms around the figure before him.
The form was smaller than he remembered, or he was bigger...regardless it was no less powerful than his last memory of it. He had always marveled at his father’s presence, the strength in his figure and weight of his gaze...now he knew, he understood what it was. His father had walked through the fires of a human’s mind and life and come out stronger for it and now it was his turn. 
“Easy boy...I knew you would find yourself here one day, unfortunately this is all I can do for you. You mustn't look lad, that is not something for you to gaze upon.” The voice of his father was enough to bring tears of painful loss and joyous memory to Galgac’s eyes. 
“What is it father, what is that light?” Galgac buried his face in his father’s broad shoulder in the same way he had as a youngling when he had accidentally viewed someone's mind and been scared of what he saw. 
“It is the fire at the beginning and end of time, the edge of eternity and beginning of nothing...it is everyone's final destination.” Feeling his father raise his own head and hearing him speak again Galgac could tell he wasn’t the one his father was speaking to. 
“Go ahead John, I’ll see you on the other side. I saved you a seat and a glass of whiskey just like you asked.” 
“Thanks Gal, I’ll be seeing you soon...you got a good kid there you know.” It was probably just the strange feelings he was enduring but Galgac could almost swear he heard tears in the Battle Master’s voice. 
“Yeah I know...he is pretty awesome, just like I told you all those times. As for you Son, it’s time for you to leave.” And indeed it seemed as if that would be the best plan of action as the world around him seemed to become less and less real with every failing heartbeat that now rang throughout the mental construct. 
“Tell your mother I miss her and that there are so many goddesses in the afterlife I may have to lower my standards for one of them.”
Galgac gave a choked laugh at the stupid joke his parents always seemed to have...how his father could never bring himself to betray his mother because even if a goddess descended before him, she could never hope to live up to his mother’s beauty and sharp wit. 
“HA...hehe…she is going to kick your teeth in when she catches up to you, you know that right.” He didn’t care that he was talking to a mental construct of a father that had died months ago...short by human standards but long enough to dull the pain for many other species. 
“Yeah I know...well she has to catch me first. Farewell Son, it was good seeing you again.”
With those final words Galgac found himself surrounded by a crushing black void and the overwhelming sense of something staring at him. Something older than even humans could comprehend, something that was interested in him only as a future project or a topic to come back to in a casual conversation. Trying desperately to remember how to release himself from another’s mind, Galgac was just about to panic when he felt as much as heard a voice that would speak to him in his dreams and nightmares for years to come. 
‘Not yet...’
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With a jerking start Galgac’s eyes snapped open and it was only after a few seconds that he could understand what he was seeing.
An off-white ceiling, meaning he was probably on his back...the soft cushion beneath him confirmed his current position. Turning his head Galgac realized the ringing in his ears was not in his head but rather the life signs indicator attached to the Battle Master.
“Do not bother…” The voice seemed to come from a great distance.
“The Battle Master has passed from this life and is enjoying his final peace.”
Oh...that was his voice...yes it was...closing his eyes Galgac began the process of reacquainting his mind with his physical body. A body he had been born with but had spent less than his full life-span within, a body that had tasted the power, ferocity and sheer depth of a human’s mind. Doing his best to ignore the sounds of the doctors trying to revive the great man one bed over Galgac forcibly relaxed into the cushion and did his best to bring order to his mind and body...and to come to peace with seeing his father one last time.
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The Funeral for John Alventar, Battle Master, Peace Bringer, Black Operator...husband...father...beloved...was a thing of beauty beyond what most species would understand, but Galgac now could. 
With his newfound understanding of how deep and powerfully a human could feel Galgac felt himself straining under the weight of the proceedings around him. An almost inconceivable amount of children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren approached to console him, as if he was the one losing a family member. 
Representatives from the remaining Alenshal empire arrived along with ones from the Kalasha Shoal, Melenkal Coalition, Sardashian Republic and half a dozen other smaller groups. Entombed upon his final command ship, in a cask of demi-steel the Battle Master gently cruised towards his final destination. 
The Black Hole known as Charybdis...an ever-consuming horizon of unknown danger and glory, what better final resting place for one as mighty as the human that had done so much in his lifetime.
Gazing out at the endless void and pinprick points of light Galgac nearly felt himself begin to slip back into the memories of John ‘Battle Master’ Alventar.
Over there was the main star of the system that birthed the Kalasha Shoal, thirty degrees up and seven to port was the home system of the Sardashian Republic...he was pretty sure he had grandchildren there, no...the Battle Master had grandchildren there, not him, not Galgac who had barely seen a handful of human cycles. 
Giving himself a quick shake Galgac focused on the here and now, what could he hear and what could he see. With a disturbingly human pricking of his ears Galgac zeroed in on a conversation between the representatives from the Melenkal Coalition and the Sardashian Rep.
“Admit it, the only reason you are here is to make sure the old monster under your sleeping pad is truly dead.” The voice of the Melenkal Coalition was like gravel being tumbled in a metal tube.
“Saaaahh…this is true, I wish to make sure the Harbinger is truly gone as it would not be the first time he has falsified his demise.”
Contrary to the Melenkal representative the Sardashian’s voice was a musical mixture of chirps and whistles that translated to a rather pleasant songlike voice. It would be a few rotations before Galgac realized it but at the time he was not using his universal translator and was in fact simply understanding the words and sounds being spoken…much like a human would. 
Looking out over the vast star field that was to bear witness to the Battle Master’s final journey, Galgac casually took note of the wide variety of vessels that had shown up in the last few hours. Flagships and attending lesser vessels lit up the surrounding area with active sensor sweeps as they maintained acceptable distances from each other. 
Blocky and stout Melenkal Destroyers surrounded the long and lithe winged shapes of the Sardashian Rep. Weapons had been physically safed and disabled according to galactic funerary laws but the tension was still enough to be felt across the void. There may have been decent relations between the attending parties, but old grudges still reared their heads every now and then.
‘Ha…’old grudges’...none of these individuals have a grudge older than the Batt...than John’s youngest great- granddaughter…’Galgac just smiled bitterly to himself as he thought this.
Realizing why it was considered a double-edged honor to enter a human’s mind among his people Galgac did his best to remember who he was among the still fresh torrent of foreign memories. He thought he knew what it was to feel anger, but now he realized he had barely felt a candle’s heat when compared to the raging inferno of a human’s wrath. Sorrow was nothing new to him, but the crushing weight and dragging doubt that humans could endure showed him that he had not even begun to understand what loss and pain meant. Galgac had known happiness in his life, but he had never known the glowing golden light of a humans’ joy, the effervescent feeling of happiness pure and light that always seemed to make things a little easier. 
It was with a depth of sorrow he had never felt before, and a greater understanding of the feeling itself, that Galgac watched the great vessel that carried the Battle Master cruise gently forward until it reached the event horizon of Charybdis. Watching the mighty starship be slowly pulled into the depths of the singularity and disintegrate the further in it went, Galgac felt now would be a good time to enact the Battle Master’s final wish.
Unseen to any others in the room Galgac pulled out a small remote and pressed a button.
With a flicker the various view screens around the observation deck switched over to a picture of the Battle Master. To say the occupants of the room were startled at seeing their honored nemesis glaring down at them when he should be well on his way down the throat of a black hole was an understatement. 
“Hello everyone.” The voice of the Battle Master rang out over the station’s observation deck.
“By now you probably think I’m dead and well on my way to my final resting place...and I very well might be, but as you will never see my body, I want you to ask yourselves ‘Is it worth it to try and undo what he did?’...of course this might just be a pre-recorded message, but in case it isn’t let me give you one last piece of advice: let someone else figure it out first.”
Galgac had to draw on a few memories from the late John ‘Battle Master’ Alventar to make sure his laughter at the faces of horror that now surrounded him looked more like the shaking of sorrow and tears. Only a human would do something like this, strike one last bolt of terror into those that were so eager to see him dead. 
Walking off the observation deck as unobtrusively as possible Galgac allowed himself to smile at the sounds of fearful chaos behind him, a true smile with teeth bared and cheeks pulled back to his ears, with eyes squinted and a laugh ready to bubble from his chest...a very human smile.  
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particular-one · 9 months
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oh, i was raised on little light.
synopsis. 5 times that blade listed every reason why he can never be with someone like you, and the 1 time you proved him wrong. pairing. blade x gn! reader cw. hurt/comfort, a lil angsty on blade's part with brief mentions of blade's insistence on dying, implicit spoilers about blade's lore in general author's note. i have been itching to write a 5+1 fic for the longest time now....i was listening to northern attitude and it reminded me of blade so bad. hello blade nation i know i understand why he’s so angst-ridden appealing to write for 🙁
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when blade met you for the first time, everything in him knew you would be different from the rest of the group. you were the newest addition to the stellaron hunters, whom elio took a great fascination towards — why so, he never figured out, but this landed you in the same ranks as him, kafka and silverwolf.
you easily found a friend in both kafka and silverwolf; blade knew that much because he had watched as you indulged in kafka's innate interest in beauty despite the clear confusion in your eyes. he had seen how you would chat with silverwolf about the latest games that she's invested most of her time into.
but he would merely observe you; if, in any way, you had tried to interact with him, he would brush you off with a cold shoulder, never responding to your rather inquisitive words about him.
he didn't understand why you wanted to know so much about him, nor did he expect to be greeted with the same smile and greeting despite constantly keeping you at arm's length.
that was when he knew that you were too nice for your own good, but most of all, you were too nice to someone like him, who'd push you away even when every inch of his soul did not want to.
━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━
the second time was when you had accidentally found out about his despondency with immortality's curse and in turn, everything that blade had wanted to hide from you.
when you had approached him about it, blade immediately went on the defensive and angrily asked you to stay away from him. he didn't — couldn't bear to see the hurt in your eyes when he snapped at you, thus, the stellaron hunter turned his back on you and fled. which had exactly been the source of the never ending spiral of thoughts that was slowly consuming every fibre of his being.
he's done it now. he's blown any chance that he could form anything meaningful in this ruined life of his.
he had not noticed your presence in the common room, until you made a clanging noise that was the result of two porcelain cups making contact. blade was startled to see you here, especially when he had just uttered those spiteful words to you. he stood up to take his leave, when you called his name.
even the way you said his name had a gentle tenderness to it; he hated how melodious your voice had sounded, hated how he watched as you gingerly set down two porcelain tea cups filled with jasmine tea, one quite noticeably for him, hated how you took the seat in front of him and told him that you were sorry, and that if he ever needed someone to talk to, that you would always be there for him.
but most of all, he hated how his heart rose at your promise, and how much he clung to your words since that night. all the while fully knowing that he could never subject you to being intertwined with the likes of him.
━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━
the third time was much more of a painful wakeup call — quite literally. blade had always prided himself in diving straight first into battle without a single thought, desperate to die and get on with it. this mission was no different, but now you had been watching over him and ready to provide support if needed.
today's battle was much more vicious than his usual ones, but blade had always enjoyed the thrill of fighting. it had been the uncertainty of whether it would finally be his time that allured the stellaron hunter.
but… things had gone quite differently today. for the first time, blade was not seething in his obsession to die when he had seen you valiantly fight off the enemies that had threatened to overwhelm him. ha, as if they could.
he had not noticed that one was charging straight at him with his spear raised, and for a split second could quite literally see his long life flash before his eyes just as he narrowly avoided a fatal injury if it weren’t for the fact that you shouted for his name.
"stay still. i still need to bandage your side." your voice had inevitably brought him back to reality, just as you wiped off the last of his injuries with a warm towel. you had insisted on patching up his wounds yourself, and even when blade had told you that it would just magically heal by himself, he learned that day that it was rather hard to say no to you when you pleaded.
also, he could barely say no when he saw how you were radiating in concern and worry for him. not to mention how your eyes had gleamed like stars in the sky, but that was besides the point.
at the touch of your hand, blade suddenly winced at the contact. you immediately retracted your hand and mumbled an apology, but blade could see that your eyes was moving towards where he covered up the scars he's accumulated for fighting for over a century.
"are you wondering about my scars?" you seemed rather surprised at his question, but most likely due to the sudden indulgence to what you had been obviously looking at.
you slowly nodded. "do they still hurt?"
"not anymore." not any more than his painstaking wish to be free from the shackles of immortality.
you had started to set down the alcohol and bandages on the floor just as blade averted his gaze from you. the silence that proceeded was rather deafening, even for someone like blade who would rather sit in uncomfortable silence than deal with something intimate.
which was ... quite the contradiction to what he had previously allowed you to do, but you had slowly become the exception to many things in his life.
"there, all done. don't be too reckless next time, okay?" you smiled at your handiwork, and even if blade couldn't exactly benefit from whatever you had just done, he somehow felt a thousand times better than he's ever felt in a century. a flicker of a smile could unmistakably be seen in his features, and whether you had caught that or not, he saw you grinning all the same.
on a normal day, blade would have found himself grumbling about losing yet another chance at death, but instead, here he was, smiling at you.
the thought of dying at last had evidently crossed his mind more than once, but never did the thought of dying for someone else. blade very well knew that he could never be that selfless; maybe he had been once upon a time, but that had only costed him the sweet liberation of death.
and yet, the fact that he feels that greatly for you was enough to keep him up the rest of the night, the image of your blinding smile forever seared in his mind.
━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━
the fourth time these thoughts had started to creep up to him again was when the both of you coincidentally crossed paths at an ungodly hour, that you had the bright idea to go gaze at the stars together.
the thought of doing something together made his heart clench, but blade, against his better judgement, allowed you to take his hand in yours as you searched for the perfect spot to watch the stars from from their location.
the skies were clear that night, as if the universe had anticipated that two sleepless beings would be standing at the dock and watch the stars align before their very eyes. with a watchful eye, he stared as you could hardly contain your own excitement. "look, look! there's the brightest star — oh, i never thought we could get such a proximate view from here!" you kept flailing your hand everywhere and he wondered where exactly you had found that energy.
that was when he realized you had never let go of his hand, and instinctively, blade found himself clenching your hand in an attempt to let go. noticeably, your gaze flicked towards him, a momentary glance but the emotion it held in it was enough to send a chill down his spine. he could feel your grip on his hand loosen slightly, but blade didn't want to be a fool any longer.
something in him told him to keep holding onto you, as his fingers interlocked with your hand and held it firmly. blade could hear your breath hitch at his sudden gesture, but naturally, you just smiled and squeezed his hand back.
oh, how your smile had always made his heart ache.
"beautiful, isn't it?" you whispered under your breath, as your eyes were now fixed on the sky above the both of you. the world felt dangerously quiet, but he did not mind the fleeting peace it gave him. blade simply hummed in approval, his mind lost in the moment but he never found the urge to peel his eyes away from you.
to him, you were the brightest star that night and how he foolishly hoped that you’d never get tired of shining your light on him.
“yes, it is.” but foolish dreamers could never get what they want.
━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━
the fifth time was the last time, the time where blade had fully convinced himself that he could not possibly get involved with someone as great as you.
you were sitting across from him as you shared another cup of tea with him. blade could vividly remember the first time he had done this with you like it had only happened yesterday. still, it had been months since then — but you still haven't changed at all.
"is there something in your cup?" blade hadn't realized that his gaze became fixed on the porcelain cup that you handed to him minutes ago, that he barely even touched it. "no. it’s nothing.”
whether you had sensed his avoidance or not, you didn’t comment on it further. blade ended up taking a sip of his tea just as you were fiddling with the detailed carvings on your cup. now, it was probably his turn to sense that you had been avoiding something. “is there something on your mind?”
you looked up at him suddenly, no doubt wondering if blade had just said what he said — not that blade was particularly good at providing a form of care like you did, but his silence had always made him a good listener.
“you know, i really appreciate that you’re spending time with me.” you started, as blade watched your fingers graze over your cup for the millionth time, a habit that you had often done when you were nervous. how he knew that was something he’ll take to the grave.
blade didn’t say a word, only resorting to taking another sip from his tea. what was there to say? that he felt the same but a million times more in magnitude? it would be uncharacteristic of him to admit something that embarrassing. maybe, it had been his lack of response, that you continued to talk.
“sorry, i know you would prefer much quieter companions,” you spoke with a suppressed laugh, the same distinct chuckle that blade could recognise even from a mile away. “truthfully, i thought you even disliked me.”
it was his turn to be perplexed, as blade looked up to meet your gaze that was … on him. you sheepishly smiled at the sudden confession, before you took a big gulp of your tea. his head was spinning, and maybe it had been something in the tea, but blade could feel his tongue loosen with the many things he had been holding back. “i did. i do.”
a twinge of hurt crossed your eyes for a moment, before you casted your eyes downward. “oh.”
“i hated how nice you are,” he blurted out. “i hated how you would look at me with a great deal of concern in your eyes like i am someone to be pitied.”
“i hated how you’d still try to be there and talk to me, even when i had pushed you away before.”
“i hated how you are able to read me like the back of your hand. i hated how you could easily make me feel safe with your smile.” blade had wanted to stop talking, but the words kept going.
“i hated how gently you would tend to my scars, how your eyes would sparkle at the mention of something you love and how downright mesmerizing it is for me.” he watched as your eyes widened, before they were plunged in a tirade of emotions that were no doubt a result to his words.
he wasn’t finished yet, though.
“but most of all, i hated how whenever i’m around you, or even think about you, dying is the last thing i’d ever wish for.”
the uncomfortable silence settled in between them again, save for the whirring of the machines that blade was suddenly grateful for. he couldn’t bear to even look up at you, lest he’d see the hurt in your eyes again. “blade...”
“sorry. that was very unbecoming of me. i can go.”
“blade...” he took the last gulp of his tea before bringing the cup down with a clang. “thank you. for the tea, as always—”
“blade.” he looked up to finally meet your gaze that was only a breath away from him, before he could feel your hand gently cradling his cheek before you leaned your forehead against his.
oh. oh. you didn’t say anything more but still singlehandedly calmed his largest worries with just a simple gesture.
“you know, you could have just told me you liked me a lot.” typically, the cheeky and teasing tone in your voice would make him groan, but only this time, he allowed himself to smile. “also, what did you mean by the tea?”
now he was confused. “didn’t you give me tea?” you shook your head. “what the hell was that then?”
you could hardly suppress a grin. “you said you wanted rice wine one time, so …” so that’s why all those words spilled out of him … a groan escaped blade just as you laughed at his mishap, but not that he completely regretted it.
he knew that no matter what he did, he could never deserve someone like you — but he would choose to die for you a million times, that much was certain.
but for now, blade could most definitely contend for choosing to live for you instead.
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written by carlyle (@particular-one) copyright: all content belongs to particular-one on tumblr (2023)
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val-cansalute · 6 months
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shitty drabble abt massaging ellie’s back, fluff, still mdni just because 🫤
“Babe?” Ellie rasps out, clearing her throat in an attempt to sound more relaxed.
A groan escapes your lips as you exhale to which she reaches her calloused hand out to wake your half-closed eyelids with a caress of her thumb,
“Hm? That a ‘yes’, babe? Promise I'll go right to sleep after.”
She peppers your forehead with gentle kisses, pulling back to watch your eyes flutter open before you take hold of her shoulders and guide her to turn onto her other side. She follows your movements willingly, a small smile gracing her lips as a sigh passes through.
You push the hem of her shirt up, leaving the fabric scrunched just above her tantalizing shoulder blades and instinctively, you run your fingers along her skin - the freckled small of her back.
It vibrates against your palm when Ellie produces a guttural noise as you apply pressure.
“Yeah, perfect, babe... Right there,” she says, the relief evident in her voice. She closes her eyes to block out anything that distracts her from the feeling, and melts into your palms as you work out the sore spot on her back.
“Just keep it going for a few minutes, yeah?”
And you hum in compliance, you wouldn’t stop. God, she works all day, never looks after herself. It makes your heart ache to think of how her arms must sting constantly with the pain that lingers from over-exerting herself every day. There’s nothing you want more than to lay her down and take it all away.
And there’s a sliver of joy hidden in a shaded crook of your heart because she’s tired - because she’d only ever come to you for comfort…
For now, you do what you can, with care and affection, glancing at her face intermittently to see if she seems more relaxed. It’s working; she visibly sinks into your embrace as you run your hands up and down the expanse of her back.
“Yeah, that's... that’s it, babe… Perfect,” she sighs, muttering a quiet,
“You can stop whenever you feel like it.”
Her tense, angular body seems to melt into the mattress she’s curled up on, as you knead out the bindings of her labour with your golden touch, watching her come undone before you.
In response to a sigh which tells you she’s falling asleep, you give her the space she usually craves, yet as soon as you pull away from Ellie's back and turn over, she lets out a soft groan and turns to eye you over her shoulder.
“Still hurts?”
"Yeah... still hurts," Ellie murmurs, turning to face forward again as your hands find their way to her skin once more, though her words are dripping with insincerity, "Still hurts so much..."
And you don’t mind; you love that she loves your touch indescribably. So you keep going, unwinding the stress coiled around her like a seamstress to a spindle, until your arms begin to ache and, then, you stop your hands in their tracks.
You press soft kisses like the flutter of butterfly wings upon her skin, before wrapping your arms around her lean waist and throwing a leg over her with your cheek pressed against the warmth of her back.
“Thank you, baby,”
she says, her voice a rasping murmur, a ripple of vibrations against your face, drowning out into the rhythm of her heartbeat pulsing through her being. She can hear yours as well; feel your careful, gentle breaths feathering her back. Almost feels like you’re sharing a heart…
Drunk on fatigue, Ellie turns so the tip of your nose brushes against her bare chest, allowing herself to shamelessly be desperate for your touch.
She wraps an arm over your waist, wanting to engulf your body with her own, wrap around you and hold you in the safety of her rib cage for eternity.
You welcome her greedy love, leaning into her hold, wanting her to take you in just as much.
“Night, babe, I love you,”
“Love you too, Els, night.”
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