#i just really needed to get all this off my chest it's been festering

[reobsessed]

Unfamiliar Waters

Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion. Gender neutral. Content: Bathing, kissing, hair washing, fluff, comfort, slight conflict that gets resolved immediately, no sex, minor mention of torture. 1500 Words. Summary: You were in dire need of a bath after a harrowing fight outside the inn you were staying at. Unfortunately you find the tub already occupied by Astarion. In an attempt to bond with and get him out of there, you offer to wash his hair. Another short Astarion fic I started a while ago. Wanted to do something fluffy and intimate without any sex. Thanks again to Suri for edits and help with lines and the title!

You flung open the wooden doors, uncaring as wood chipped against lavender painted walls. Just as you were halfway through discarding your shirt, an indignant cry caught you off guard.

“What in the sweet hells, do you mind?!” The towel and toiletries fell from your hands. You’d never been very perceptive and today was no exception. Already fully submerged in the tub was Astarion; chest bare slumped over the side, a dripping copy of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette in hand.

“Astarion?! I haven’t seen you in hours, is this where you’ve been?” You spluttered. “We really could have used your help. There was a fight right outside the inn. There’s absolutely no way you didn’t hear the commotion.”

“Some of us take pride in our appearances and besides, I needed time away from that festering group of ingrates.” As if to emphasise his point he shuddered. “You know, you could all learn a lot from me, starting with regular bathing.”

“And how exactly are any of us meant to bathe when you’re in the bathroom four hours every day?”

“Oh I don’t know, Baldur’s Gate has plenty of scenic rivers and lakes. I’m sure the bear has no problem leading each of you to nature’s finest bathhouse.”

You rubbed your temples with a freehand. As much as you loved this man, he could really start to grate on your nerves after a while. You scooped up your belongings and made your way over to him, arranging your towel neatly on the floor beside you.

He looked up from the paper disinterestedly. “As much as I love your company, dear, I hope you’re not planning on joining me. I hardly think this,” he gestured disapprovingly at the tub, “can fit us both.”

“Astarion, if there’s anything I can do to cut this exceedingly long bath short, I would be more than happy to assist.”

His eyes widened momentarily. How stupid of you, you hadn’t considered the implications of what you’d said. 

“No, no, that's quite alright. I’ve still got my hair to wash and that’ll take at least another half an hour.”

Perching yourself on the edge of the tub beside him, you began rolling up your sleeves.

“Then allow me.” You smirked.

He flung the sodden paper to the floor and stared at you dumbfounded. “You mean you- wash my hair. I’m sitting here naked, dripping and gorgeous and all you want to do is ‘wash my hair’?”

“Couples do things for each other. Things outside of sex and combat, I might add,” you sniped back. Using your fingers, you began combing through his dampened locks.

“Without the sex, I suppose that leaves only the one thing we do together then.”

“That’s true.” His body tensed. “No, no wait- '' Flustered, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your forehead against the back of his head. A feeble gesture, intended to soothe him and buy you enough time to explain.

“Just kidding,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t genuine.

“I like doing other things with you,” you mumbled into his curls. “I don’t care about the sex.” You relaxed your hold, allowing him to turn around to face you. Delicately, you reached out and wiped a stray piece of hair from his forehead. As you did so, his unnaturally pale cheeks took on a darker hue, perhaps from the heat or from your touch, you weren’t sure.

He cleared his throat and turned away again. “I see then. Well, this is as good a time as any to try something new.” 

“Really?!” your head perked up. “I’m so excited, haven’t washed anyone else's hair since I left home.” You began swirling a hand in the tepid water, carefully choosing a spot faraway from where Astarion sat. “Did you and your siblings ever do this for each other? Like my family did,” you asked without thinking.

He shot you an incredulous glare, which soon contorted into sarcastic glee. “Oh, of course we did! And then in between our torture sessions we’d paint each others’ nails! What good fun it was.” His smile dropped and he fell backwards into the bath, splashing you in the process.

You scratched the back of your head. “Sorry I-”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave it, my love. No use dwelling on all that now.” You nodded your head in agreement, not that he could see you. “Come now, we don’t have all day.” 

You hummed in agreement, looking over the various bottles that sat on a shelf beside the bath. Astarion was a very particular man and you didn’t wish to upset him by, god’s forbid, using the wrong fragrance. You gestured towards the selection of shampoo. “What’s your poison?”

“Hmm, I think today I‘m in the mood for jasmine- no wait- night orchid and ginseng- actually, that honey shampoo sounds positively delicious.”

“Might net you some unwanted attention from our camp bear,” you joked, hands sifting through the knots in his hair.

“Fair point. Alright then, I think I’d like to try that raspberry one, the one you got from that dear little market stall.” 

The same one you liked to use.

With a gentle firmness you cupped the sides of his head. You hoped it was enough to stop him from turning around and seeing the pure glee etched onto your face.

“Alright, I need to get it wet, lean back,” you instructed, as you scooped up a handful of water.

He did as he was told and reclined backwards, eyes closed and squinted, anticipating the stream of water. Doing this for your brothers and sisters had been easy. Hells, you could get away with lobbing them in the river and they’d be just fine. Astarion, on the other hand, required a more delicate touch (even if he’d never admit to it) and you were more than happy to cater towards him.

With slow precision you poured the cooling water over his scalp, immediately pushing back any stray drops that threatened to drip down into his eyes. 

Gods, how was it possible for such a man to be so beautiful and how was it that such a man had chosen you as his partner? Your hands stopped and your gaze lingered, as you took in his picturesque features.

An eyelash heavy with steam peeled open, giving you an inquisitive look.

“Enjoying the show, darling?” A thick, humid heat bloomed across your cheeks. “By all means, keep admiring me.”

“Shut up and close your eyes!” You grabbed the bottle from the side and began lathering it in your hands. The familiar fragrance filled your nostrils and despite having grown accustomed to having it as your own scent, you were looking forward to how it smelt on him.

You rubbed the foam through your fingers, fully enveloping his hair in a thick mousse. As your nails dragged across his scalp you heard him moan. 

“That feels positively wonderful.”

“Oh yeah, like this?” you asked, repeating the same motions as before. He mmm-ed softly, sinking further into your hold. You paused for a second, this might be the most satisfied sound you’d ever heard coming from his lips, not a bad thing of course, given his past experiences. 

His eyes were open again, staring up at you, face awash with bliss. 

“Itching for a taste are we?” he goaded lightly.

There was no use dignifying that with a response. You brought your lips down upon his, his head still clasped in your hands. It was brief and sweet, reminiscent of those first kisses you’d once shared with young lovers. Unthinkable that such innocent yearning could be reclaimed so late in life. 

Reluctantly you broke the kiss and pulled away.

“I do rather like that, you know…”

“I know and so do I.” You beamed. “Okay now can you please hurry up so I can have a bath,” you pleaded, peppering his mouth with more kisses.

“Always so demanding,” came his curt reply (the audacity). Nonetheless, he complied and finished up. 

A deep sigh of relief escaped your lips after finally lowering yourself into freshly ran water. About halfway through wetting your hair, a freezing pair of hands on your shoulders caught you off guard.

“Astarion!” you shrieked. The little rogue had snuck up behind you.

“Oh, do be quiet, and don’t splash me. Wouldn’t do to get me wet again.” You watched as he rifled through the shampoo bottles disapprovingly. “We must go to the market together again soon, darling, just the two of us. I know just the product that’s perfect for your hair type, might do something about that helmet musk too.”

You opted to ignore that last dig, instead choosing to relish in the satisfaction of a warm bath and your lover threading his fingers through your hair. “I’d like that,” you hummed happily. 

A contented silence descended over the room. You felt at peace and when you saw him hovering above you with that serene grin on his face, you knew he felt the same.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #reader x astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate #my fic #bg3 fic #fanfic #vampire

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, the overused 'i know we're supposed to be fwb but i fell in love with you anyway' trope, confessions, gojo mentally spiraling during sex over how much he's in love with you because that's a very him thing to do [18+ only]

Gojo can’t tear his eyes off you as you move above him—riding his cock like this would be the last time you’d ever feel it inside you. That thought twists his insides, his fingers digging into your hips as if you might float away before he ever really had a chance to voice the words he’s been too scared to say.

But he couldn’t really stop you if you wanted to leave—that’s how the groundwork of uncomplicated arrangements like these work, at least in the beginning. He likes to think that a lot has changed since that night in your living room between two drunk, lonely people with nothing to lose aside from your torn underwear in his haste to get them down your soft legs and an old condom tucked away in his wallet.

The feeling sneaks up on him without his knowing, a throbbing in his chest that festers and grows over time until he can’t ignore it anymore or contain it in the proverbial cup of his hands no matter how hard he tries.

It doesn’t dampen how much he wants to mold the shape of his cock inside your tight little cunt, to ruin you for anyone else who thought they even had a chance, to have his name be the first thing you think of when you cum. He wants to make every part of you his, and he only hopes you want the same thing, too.

He groans at the thought, gripping you tight to slam his hips up into you. “Tell me who’s fucking you so good. Tell me who’s the only one that gets to make you cum.”

“You, Toru!” you sob, holding onto his biceps to keep yourself from falling against his chest. It has his balls drawing up tight, and he sucks in a breath to stop this from being over too soon.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” he grunts. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. I’m the only one who gets to feel this sweet princess cunt.” He leans up to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, groaning when he feels you clench down around him.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you choke out.

“Yeah?” His fingers circle over your clit as he shoves his cock deeper inside of you to take you there faster, nipping at the swell of your breast. “Fuck, give it to me, baby. Lemme feel it.”

His name is soft and sweet on your tongue as you cum, squeezing around him until his eyes roll back from how good it feels. It has him following after you, grinding his cock as far as it can go while he pulses and fills you to the brim. There’s so much that he feels it leak out of your little hole and drip down his balls to pool in an uncomfortable wet puddle forming beneath him.

He rolls away from the mess when you both catch your breath, his softening cock still tucked away between your wet thighs. You stroke his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp, and he buries his face into your chest, words weighing heavy in his chest.

Maybe he should cut the bullshit already, say what he wants to say, and get let down easy while he still has a chance to recover from rejection—

“Sleep with me?” he asks, voice muffled and a shade of red high on his cheeks.

You giggle, lightly tugging on his hair. “I probably need at least—”

“No,” he cuts you off nervously, heat rising to his ears. “No sex. Just to sleep…here. With me?”

When you don’t say anything right away, he wonders if there’s any way he can take back his words and whether you’d believe him if he told you it was all a joke. But then you tug the blanket over both of you, tucking the corners in so the air from the ceiling fan doesn’t reach your cooling skin, and continue running your fingers through his hair.

There’s a warmth in his chest, which he thinks might be what love feels like.

After a moment, you say, “If you steal the blankets, I’m kicking you off the bed.”

Gojo snorts, smiling against your breast. “But it’s my bed.”

You hum. “Yes, and I’ll do it anyway.”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m still going to fuck you later.”

“Go to sleep, Satoru.” He can’t see it but knows you’re smiling, too.

Masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo imagine #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fic #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #.things i write

[ellievickstar]

Bloodied Bonds

A/N: This was...fun. I wanted to fit it all into one part but it was getting too long sooooo yeah.....have fun :)

Summary: When hanahaki disease festers in your lungs, how will your family help you while you hide it from your mate?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

There they were again.

Azriel smiled at Elain with those eyes…those eyes. And in your soul you felt the bond writhe with pain and clench in your chest. You remained still as you immediately brought your eyes to look at the ground beneath you. This hurt. This really hurt. A part of you wanted to deny it, wanted to believe that Azriel would remain faithful to you always, that he would stay true to the mating bond, something he desperately used to want before we got together.

Now, you were not so sure.

“Sweetheart…,” Cassian said from behind me, startling. He knew what you was seeing, saw it in his own brother’s eyes. Azriel may have always been a mystery to everyone else outside the inner circle, but his eyes — his beautiful hazel eyes — showed you everything you needed to know.

“I’m fine,” You waved Cassian off, bringing down shields on the bond, shutting out his emotions, the pain from it, and shutting yourself in as a stray tear slipped down your face, “I’m really fine,” You repeated.

Truth to be told, Cassian did not know what to say to you. After you had defended Azriel since you were kids, brought him to you and Rhysand’s mother, convinced her to take him in. Cassian did not know what could come over Azriel to internally betray you in this way. However as you began coughing Cassian was alarmed when you raced towards the kitchen sink and coughed out flower petals, one after another.

“What the hell-” He started, moving to pull back your hair as he observed what you had coughed out. Blood and petals coated the sink and as you choked them out one by one, slowly calming down, you waved your hand magicking it away. And it was then it hit him.

You were dying.

“Explain. Now.” He demanded. Looking away you mumbled.

“A few weeks ago after I first realised he loved her, I started coughing up flowers and my tears, my tears turned a gold colour. I asked Madja what was wrong. It’s a soul disease called hanahaki, caused by the betrayal of the heart and unrequited love. The tears were caused by the same thing, a unique symptom that is because of my magic due to being the High Lord’s sister. She said the flowers in my lungs will continue to grow until it suffocates me and I die. The star tears are just a symptom that causes physical pain, she doesn’t know if there will be any repercussions from it,” That’s all you managed to ramble out before you doubled over and heaved again, blood dripping out of your gaping mouth as you choked and coughed on the flower petals making their way up your throat.

Cassian was at a loss of words, on one hand he wanted to be angry, angry at you for keeping this from him, for not telling him sooner so he could beat the crap out of Azriel. On the other hand he was…devastated. You had always been like a sister to him, since he first met you as a kindred and fierce spirit when you were seven years old. The three of them had been twenty and Cassian had fell to his knees before the little girl with such a bright spirit, who dared to scream in Devlon’s face when he said females belonged in the kitchen.

Cassian had sworn to protect you.

And now, against a disease he felt helpless.

“Is there a cure?” He asked.

“Madja said there were two ways, either Azriel proves that he still loves me, which we both know won’t happen when he won’t stay away from Elain for more than a few hours, or I could have the flowers cut from their roots and removed, it’s a risky procedure and even successful all my feelings towards Azriel will be removed entirely, given the mating bond, she thinks it will be stripped from my soul. I….I wanted to wait.”

“So you either have your emotions robbed from you, make Azriel realise he’s an idiot, or die?”

You nod.

“Tell Azriel,” “I can’t!” You hissed, “We both know I can’t. He loves her, Cassian, I can feel it, I can see it, everytime he looks at her it’s like she’s the one who hung the stars and moon while when he looks at me that light dies!” You bang your fist on the table.

You point to where Azriel and Elain was far out in the gardens. His shadows no where to be seen, both blissfully unaware of what was going on inside with you and Cassian.

“He acts like she’s the one who went through countless of interrogation, of torture, when she got captured by enemies. He acts like she was the one who protected Velaris with Rhysand when she went under the mountain to be taken advantage of, when Amarantha held me down and tried to force answers out of me,” You let out another pained cry as you slid to the ground, “I have done everything for him, been through hell and back with him. And even after everything he still wants her, still wants to be with her, still doesn’t want me.”

Cassian brought you closer to him as he sat next to you and let you cry on his shoulder.

You cried and cried, and cried until there was nothing left. Cried until you couldn’t cry.

And when you finally fell asleep from exhaustion, Cassian glanced out the house to the gardens where his brother trailed Elain, and Cassian made a decision.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“You told my brother!?” You shrieked. Rhysand and Cassian was now sitting around you in Rhys’s study.

“You told Cassian before me?” Rhysand shot back. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Oh please I didn’t tell him anything I was throwing up flowers in front of him, not much I could do except explain.”

Shaking his head, Rhys sighed as he glanced at Cassian and they both shared a look. Narrowing your eyes, the tendrils in your mind crept towards your brother and the general, and surprise coated your face when you realised they had shut you out.

“Let me remind you what I do is my choice.”

“Not when your life is at stake,” Rhysand retorted.

So he had decided something against your will already. Of course, your brother who wanted to help everyone, your brother who thought you were his responsibility, his burden to bear. Your brother who claimed to value your opinion oh so much but then never, not once, ever considered how you feel in anything that had to do with you.

“He doesn’t care. I haven’t even been actively hiding it from him, it’s just that he’s never around to notice,” You said bitterly, “Did you know he missed my birthday? You all did. Because usually he’s the one going around reminding everyone the week before. Did you know our anniversary passed and I had waited for him all day just to realise he was with her?” Stray tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold them back.

Crying meant that you were weak.

And you hated being weak.

That was when Cassian spoke, “Have Madja remove the flowers.”

Rhysand shot a look at him.

“She won’t survive otherwise. Even as we discuss this now she is running out of time, Rhys. Azriel’s infatuation with Elain is unforgivable and at least this way we can save her. Their relationship might never be the same but if Azriel is truly in love with Elain as she feels, then it is possible this way everyone wins.”

“I don’t want the male who almost killed my sister in my court,” Rhys bit out.

“Convincing Azriel that what he is doing is wrong will take too long. Maybe we should have interfered when it first started but now it’s too late. We can still save her, really save her. Not their relationship but at least she’ll live,” “And live with a bond that will eventually diminish into nothing?” “Maybe it’s better that way.”

Glancing between Cassian and your brother, your own inner turmoil seemed to be playing out in front of you as they discussed everything that you had not been able to come to terms with yourself. A part of you could still hardly believe that Azriel would do something like this, hurt you in this way when he himself swore that he would be loyal for eternity.

Mates.

A sacred connection that determined your equal, your partner in everything.

But your parents were mates too…and that did not work out well. So maybe it was time for you to let your mate go.

However, as you opened your mouth to agree with Cassian, to agree that maybe the best option would be to remove the flowers directly, the consequences of your feelings being stolen be damned, a cough climbed up your throat.

And as you coughed out bloody petals onto Rhysand’s office floor….everything went dark.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

It had all happened quickly, too quickly for Rhysand’s liking.

One moment he was debating with Cassian how they would save his sister’s life, the next moment as she was about to say something and he watched in horror as blood came out instead of words. Her eyes drooped and he raced to catch her from hitting her head on the hard wooden floors, and as his ears started ringing, holding his sister’s lifeless body in his arms, as he watched golden tears stream out of her eyes, he noticed there was someone screaming.

And it was not until his throat hurt, until his own throat burned, that he realised he was the one screaming, crying out loud for his sister who’s body seemed as lifeless as the one he had lost all those years ago.

“Get Madja!” He roared at Cassian, “Get her NOW!”

Less that a minute went by when Morrigan and Feyre came into the room, Feyre let out a horrified gasp as Mor took in the scene, freezing as she realised her cousin, her best friend, her only companion during the times after Eris and Keir, was in Rhysand’s arms, still and lifeless even as blood trickled out of her mouth and gold spilled form her closed eyelids.

Madja came shortly after, and Y/N’s body was moved to a different room for Madja to work, Cassian explaining what happened and the illness in Y/N’s body that was causing this. Morrigan took a few steps back, before she crashed into the wall of the hallway and let out her own sob.

And for the first time after Rhysand and Y/N had returned from the mountain, Morrigan wept.

Two days passed, and Y/N did not wake.

Madja estimated that they would have to make a decision within the week whether they would tell Azriel, or cut the flowers out.

And in those two days Azriel did not come.

It was only after Rhysand had asked him to meet, told him about Y/N did Azriel finally realised he had not seen his mate in days. That he had not even spent more than fifteen minutes with her in the past few months.

It was only after Rhysand said that Y/N was dying, did Azriel reach down the now cold and empty bond, and realise he had shut her out. And when he let his walls down, experienced the agony, the pain, the grief she felt even in her unconscious state, did Azriel regret.

“Why didn’t she tell me…” Azriel whispered.

“Because she heard you when I told you to stay away from Elain. I looked into her mind and I realised the day her disease started she went to find you, and you had been in my office, yelling at me that the cauldron had made a mistake, that you wanted Elain,” Rhysand laughed coldly. Even Rhys in all his beauty, his eyes were now red from sobbing, his voice hoarse from how he had cried, and cried.

“Good job, Azriel,” Cassian said from the doorway, “You got what you wanted. Your bond will no longer exist once she awakes…that’s if she survives even.”

“No….I don’t,” Azriel muttered, “Rhysand…what conversation?” Rhysand furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you really playing this game with me now? My sister is DYING! AND YOU WANT TO PRETEND LIKE YOU FORGOT WHAT YOU SAID!?”

Azriel’s eyes looked back and forth between his brother’s….when did he…when did he even get here?

Where was his mate?

Why did it feel like something just cleared from his head?

That was when Elain stepped in, holding a mug and what looked to be tea.

“Azriel, i heard your distress, drink this it will make you feel better,” She said softly, but as Rhysand’s eyes narrowed on the mug, it was Cassian who snatched it out of her hands, brought it to his eyes and shattered it on the already ruined hard wood floors.

“That was not just tea.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

And as Cassian lifted his head he declared, “As General of the Night court, I arrest you for illegal possession and use of aphrodisiacs. You are charged with attempted murder of the Princess of the Night Court. You are charged with manipulation and forced betrayal of the court’s spymaster,” And with a menacing grin Cassian said, “And you are charged because you bloody annoy me and you…what you have done today makes me want to rip you to shreds.”

A beat passed.

“That is….” Cassian continued as he glanced at Azriel, with each blink clarity seemed to return to the shadowsinger as he processed everything, as he remembered everything Elain made him do, as he remembered how he had hurt his mate, “That is if Azriel decides he doesn’t want to kill you first.”

Elain let out a scoff, looking down at the spilled tea and broken pieces of ceramic in disgust, “Azriel loves me. Azriel should love me not that disgusting slut of a female, she might be a princess but she is-,” “Mine.” Azriel interrupted.

“She was mine before you interfered. She was mine before you made me break her.” Azriel turned, no doubt to go find Y/N.

“Start counting your days, Elain, because now they are numbered.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

Part 2 coming.....tell me if you wanna be tagged :3

Love, Ellie.

#acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel imagine #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #rhysand #cassian #morrigan #feyre #elain

[ghostboneswrites2]

Seeing as how you didn't want to put the pregnancy test surprise in my last request. Maybe you could in this request. Can you do it as a birthday surprise for Daryl? The reader has been keeping track of days, and noticed that Daryl's birthday was coming up. She found out that she was pregnant a month before his birthday. She made a trip to Hilltop to get an ultrasound done. When she presents the ultrasound and pregnancy test to him, he freaks out at first, worries on if he would be a good father or end up like his dad, worrying about if the reader would end up dead after giving birth like what happened with Lori. But, the reader confronts him and encourages him that he would never be like his father and that nothing will happen to them. Can end with them having a baby or not.

Warnings: none? Pregnancy / fear of not surviving birth. Allusions to Daryl’s past abuse.

        With a soft smile, you hummed to yourself as you folded the print of your ultrasound and slipped it in the delicate little gift box, underneath the hand carved arrowhead you had worked tirelessly on for weeks. It was carved from obsidian, a process which left your fingers covered in abrasions from the splintered black glass. The final touch was a piece of plastic with two pink lines on it.

        You carefully slid the lid onto the box and tied some twine around the whole thing to keep it secure. You tucked it into the side table drawer and smithed your shirt down. 

        Daryl would be back any minute now. It was his birthday, and aside from the small gift you made for him, you had known exactly what you were going to give him for the past month now. You tracked your cycles pretty well without access to birth control. The condoms had mostly expired by that time anyways, so it was really all up to date and how fast a man could pull out. 

        You were just grateful that out of anyone you chose to take that risk with, it was a man who would burn down entire cities to keep you safe — a man that would tear down the grandest walls to make you happy. 

        At first you were afraid, at first you couldn’t calm the racing thoughts and worst case scenarios that clouded your mind. Once the initial anxiety at simmered down some, though, you felt excited. When Daryl’s birthday grew near, you knew it would be the perfect surprise for the perfect man.

        When the doorknob clicked, you took a breath and tried to present yourself as casual. “Hey, love.” You grinned as the archer stepped inside. 

        “Hey.” He greeted, kicking his boots off and dropping his crossbow on top of them. 

        “Hungry?” You asked. “Carol brought us some pasta.”

        “Nah. Not yet.” He shrugged as he slunk down into the couch. He thee his head back and shut his eyes. He was exhausted and you could tell. You sat beside him and brushed some stringy hair away from his face. 

        “Happy birthday.” You told him sweetly. He peeked at you through one open eyelid. 

        “Hmm.” He hummed. “How’d ya know that?” 

         “Well it’s the same as last year, and the year before, and the year before..”

         “Uh-huh.” He shut is eye again. 

        “I got you something.” You singsonged. 

        “New boots?” He guessed. 

        “Nope.” You shook your head, popping the ‘P’.  

        “Socks?”

        “Um… No, but, you do need some new ones, by the way. I can only see so many holes before they’re no good.” 

        “Alright… Last guess. RPG?”

        “No!” You slapped his arm. “You really gotta let the RPG thing go, man.” You chucked. He smirked a little, eyes still shut. 

        “Okay. Three wrong guesses. I guess I’ll just show you.” You sighed, pushing yourself up off the couch and approaching the side drawer. You couldn’t tell if it was excitement or anxiety or general anticipation that was festering in your stomach and chest. Whatever it was, you gulped it down regardless and pulled the little white box from the drawer.

        You plopped back down beside him and held the box out. He peeled his eyes open and sighed, looking down and taking the box. He glanced at you once, hiding the little smile that creeped at the corners of his lips, and pulled the twine to unravel the knot. 

        Somehow you expected him to go for the arrowhead first, picturing him choosing the least exciting part first. However, he immediately noticed the pregnancy test and took it into his fingers, setting the box down. He stared at the pair of pink lines for what felt like ages, before he looked up at you. 

        “You?” He asked. You raised an eyebrow. 

        “Well, I wouldn’t be gifting you anyone else’s pee-stick.” You joked. He reached down and pulled the ultrasound print from the box. 

        “Where is it?” He asked. 

        “Can’t really see it, but… it has a heartbeat.” You said gently. He grabbed the arrowhead next, admiring it for a moment before tucking it into  the inside pocket of his vest. 

        His eyes welled up. 

        “‘M a dad?” He whispered. 

        “Yeah.” You smiled. 

        He stood up quickly, test and photos in hand, an excited grin shamelessly shining from cheek to cheek. 

        “W— well that’s— it’s great!” He choked. You stood to embrace him but as soon as your feet flattened on the ground, his face fell. He began pacing. You watched him with worry. 

         “Daryl…?”  

        “I need some air.” He grunted. He stormed outside and plopped on the front steps, lighting a cigarette. He took a long drag as he stared down at the glossy piece of paper in his hands. There it was; a little life forming inside you, and he was responsible for it. He had to teach this person right from wrong, had to teach them survival and how to treat others. He was meant to lead by example, yet he had no idea how. He wondered if his father felt the same way once upon a time. He wondered if he was on his way to becoming the same man, the same dad. 

        He took another deep drag before you stepped outside and stood behind him. Oh god, he thought. What about you? What was to become of you? How hard would this be for you? Would you suffer the same fate as many women over the course of history? Would he lose you the way Rick lost Lori? 

        “Daryl.” You whispered. 

        “This ain’t right.” He mumbled. 

        “Don’t say that.”

        “It ain’t!” He snapped. “I ain’t cut out to be a father! You could die! This ain’t a game!”

        “I’m not gonna die.” You insisted, sitting and hugging him from behind. You rested your head against his back, piecing together the words you meant to say. “And nobody’s a better fit to father a child than you.” 

        “Nobody?” He scoffed. “Right, ‘cause I had a real good example.”

        “You had a great example of what not to do, so the only thing left to learn is what to do. Which, we can both learn, in time. With experience. Like all parents.” 

        “If you even make it that far.” He gulped, blinking back tears.

        “I will. And we’ll both come out on top. We always do.”  

Join the taglist! || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #daryl x female reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

[querenciasturniolo]

leave ⮕ c.s.

word count: 724

warnings: angst, swearing, crying

summary: “just leave.”

a/n: this one is…sad, there’s really no other way to put it. if you’re sensitive to angst (cut to me crying and listening to story of another us by 5sos on repeat while writing this), please don’t read below the cut. only take what you can handle, i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

You stared at your ceiling, your body and mind completely numb as you replayed last night over and over again in your head.

“Are you fucking serious right now? You sound ridiculous, Chris. Get over yourself.”

He scoffed and took a step back. “Get over myself? God, everything is always about you. I’ve been falling apart right in front of you for months, and you didn’t even see it!”

You winced, closing your eyes to keep them from burning as tears pooled out. It felt impossible to cry, you’d figured you’d run out of tears.

Your chest constricted as you watched his mouth quiver. “I just,” he started, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I can’t do this anymore.” He all but whispered. You took a step forward, your breath hitching in horror as Chris took a step back. After a few shaky breaths, his eyes met yours again. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he shook his head. “I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?”

Your breath hitched, your hands immediately covering your face as you tried to muffle the choked sob forcing itself past your lips.

“Chris, you’re my best friend—”

“I’m in love with you.” He interrupted, his voice breaking. “I’ve been in love with you our entire lives, and I know you’re not so fucking dense that you didn’t see it.” His words were like poison as they sank in, your stomach roiling with guilt.

Before you could reply, he cut you off. “I have followed you around like a lost puppy since we were twelve, and I can’t do it anymore.” He said, lifting his head completely. The muscle in his jaw tensed, any words you were going to say dying in your throat. He stared you down, his misery festering as your hand rested over your abdomen.

“Chris, I didn’t know.” You whispered, Chris shaking his head.

“Please, it was written all over my face every time I looked at you.” His voice was laced with sarcasm and venom. “Just…just leave.” He said, his voice cracking as he pushed his hair out of his eyes.

You felt like you’d been stabbed, all of the color leaving your face as you processed his words. “What?”

“Just leave, please?” The last word came out a broken plea, his eyes closing as he sighed sharply. When he opened his eyes again, they were certain, hardened in a way that you knew whatever he said next, he meant whole-heartedly. “I can’t…I can’t do this anymore.” He said. It felt as though everything inside you shattered as he walked past you and into Matt’s room, the soft click of the door practically echoing inside of your head.

You sat up out of your bed and threw your legs over the side of it. Nausea coiled in your gut, but you bit it back as you leveled your breathing. You tried convincing yourself that this wasn’t over, Chris wasn’t out of your life forever. He wasn’t, he just needed time to process this, and then you would see him again.

The truth was, once you thought about it, it was painfully obvious how much he cared for you. You’d never thought twice about his actions, thinking it was just Chris being Chris. You’d been blinded by your own obliviousness, just completely ignoring the underlying reasons for his actions.

He was in love with you, and you didn’t feel the same way. You didn’t feel the same way, and you hated yourself for hurting him. You could see the sadness in his eyes every time he looked at you, as subtle as it was. He was falling apart right in front of you, because you couldn’t just tell him the truth.

“I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?”

You sat up straight and wiped your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Standing from your bed felt wrong, but you took a deep breath and pushed your hair out of your face. You looked down at your phone and tapped the screen, begging whatever entity out there to let there be something, anything, from him. Your notification center practically mocked you as it showed up empty. You inhaled shakily, trying desperately to swallow the knot in your throat as you realized this was it—you lost him.

“Just leave.”

tags: @strniolo , @toyourloves , @ssturniolo , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @emmssturniolo , @lvrsparadise , @tuktuk34 , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @babytomatoes , @ldontexistman

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo blurb #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #querenciasturniolo

[crybaby-bkg]

please, for the love of God, elaborate on mean streak deku, that little blurb you posted is stuck in my head , plz give the ppl some crumbs 🙏🏽

Deku’s the type who you think takes so much to get to that point of snapping and being so mean with you, until you know where to poke at him. at first, you say slick little comments that you know bother him, watch that interview like smile twitch just so at the corner of his mouth, the light in his eyes dim just the tiniest amount. but it doesn’t work—he just puts that facade back up and responds back in that jovial and polite way he always does.

then you try going the physical route. bumping his shoulders when you pass him in the halls, pulling at his ears like some petulant imp when he sits beside you in the break room, kicking his shins under the table when he’s across from you at meetings. but he takes it all in stride, only huffing at you softly but—but you see it. the way you’re wearing him down, how his irritation grows and festers every time he catches a glimpse of your evil little grin.

it comes to a head, again, when you fuck with him about hero work. it’s late, you shouldn’t even be here, and yet here you are—standing in front of his desk, swiping away the reports he had been working on for hours now. he doesn’t say anything for a long while, his head tilted down, the shadows casted by his bangs hiding the green in his eyes. until they look at you, so quick, his movements are barely seen when he brings you halfway over his desk.

“I need you to stop it.” He tells you, firm and slow and deliberate, a hand gripped on the base of your neck as he stands. he’s nose to nose with you, and you can damn near count every freckle dotting his face. his mouth is tight and his thick brows are pulled taut, the scars running across his face twitching and you think—he’s never looked hotter.

“Or what?” You ask him, grinning, a little breathless at the green electricity that runs down his body. “I thought you weren’t a mean person, Deku. Are you really gonna be mean to me?”

he kisses the pout right off your lips. kisses and bites every visible inch of your skin as he drags you over the desk, teeth gnashing against your own; you taste copper, and you think that it’s never tasted better when it comes from him.

(he’s so mad at you the entire time, fusses at you for making him act like this at work. for making him fuck you so hard that it moves his desk a good two feet forward. for making him leave the impressions of his molars on your neck and your chest and your stomach and thighs. for making him grip you so tight that his knuckles white. for making him like the airy look you get whenever he gets so, so mean with you.)

#I’m so sorry that this took so long for me to get to 😭 #I’ve been busier than usual and my memory is akin to dory I fear #but I hope you like it!!!! #I wub him vury much <3 #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #deku treats! 🍬

[undercoverpena]

a hundred thoughts

john 'soap' mactavish x f!reader (squid!reader)

an: angst, idiots in love, love declarations (to Gaz) and pining | for the anon who wanted to hurt, you’re welcome. wc: 2k summary: “i think i’m in love with my best friend”. and now you’ve said it, that the secret had touched the air, it has allowed it to run more rampant through your veins. It throbs in your bones and thumps in your saddened heart. Because you miss him—

john soap mactavish masterlist

Each time he leaves, you hope he leaves a noticeable mark.

Something to cling to. A bruise from the hug being too tight, a pinch from you winding him up, or even a finger mark burned into your skin, from how searingly important he is. 

But, he never does—never did.

All you're left with is the lasting image of him walking backwards from you, smirking, eyes twinkling as he points at you saying:

“Don’t get into trouble without m’, Mari. I’ll be back in a few hours and then, we go to tha’ pub and get bladdered.”

It was the last thing—last tickbox.

Price had said it would be quick, in and out. The last loose end that had made its way out of the blistering heat, from where you’d all just been. 

It didn’t make a difference that you knew he’d be back before it got dark. From the moment the wheels took off with him, till he would come back, you held your breath.

You longed, chest tight—nerves frayed, frazzled. You had suspected why for a long time, but this time…

It hit you. Knocked you from your axis.

Not like a wave. It doesn’t wash over you, drench you and make you go cold. It both creeps and slams into you all at once. Similar to those small paper cuts you get, the ones you only notice when sanitiser or alcohol touches them, and then it’s all you can think of. Hurting so much the corners of your eyes go a little white and you blank everything out as you hiss from it all. 

It’s that thought that threads itself into your mind. It creates pretty, complicated bows that you’re sure only he can undo. 

“You alright?”

You look up from your untouched plate.

The scent of ketchup singeing your nose. It mixes with spilled vinegar and the fading scent of Soap’s body wash. The latter being the only smell you really wish to cling to, but it’s the one which dwindles the quickest. 

Gaz shouldn’t look concerned—the expression doesn’t suit him. He suits smiling and grinning, half-laughing as you sing a song badly in his face when you’re both five drinks deep. 

And yet, you’ve made him look concerned more often as of late. A part of you wondering if it’s why he’s here instead of with Price—to keep an eye on you, to watch you.

Something he’s doing well, irrespective of it being an order. He purposefully keeps meeting your gaze, finding him watching, staring with concern written into his brows, face twisting ever so slightly.

The two of you take it in turns—swapping the expression. Being the rock the other can cling to when the current tries to sweep the other a way. 

Parting your lips, the words clunk and stick to the inside of your throat. Unwilling to shift, to be spoken. 

Because no, you’re not okay. Not even a little bit. 

Those words blow across your mind—almost through it. The rest, the real explanation—the one you’ve kept so close to you—is a tangled mess you’re not sure how to begin unravelling, never mind speaking.

It’s a secret which appears in the night, hovering at the end of whatever bed you’re in. A thing which sits and erodes a hole into your chest. One which both makes you feel heavy and weightless all at once; one which fills you both with happiness, fluttering wings and nervous bubbling, and sadness which dulls everything in its path. 

A complete contradiction. 

“Oi,” Gaz says, poking you with his stupidly long finger, a brow raised. “Do I need to worry about you?”

Maybe. But, maybe it’s too late. 

You sigh, swallowing, chewing the words which are starting to taste bitter and wrong. Having sat there far too long—brewing, festering—

“Mari, c’mon. I don’t see you—“ 

“I think I’m in love with my best friend.”

Gaz stares, blinking. 

And it takes a second, even two before you can even understand why he’s staring. Why he’s dumbfounded and silent. In another situation, you think you’d smile, grin—laugh, even. 

“Not you, obviously… Soap.”

And then slowly, you watch the most annoying smirk grow and bleed over his features. “Y’fucking think?” 

“Excuse me?”

His hand steals a chip from your plate, brow raising. “We will come back to me not being your best friend, but Mari—I’m sorry, but it’s bloody obvious.” 

“It is…?”

He grins. 

Not horribly. A grin you rarely see on him when you’re both here. One that is usually reserved for being back home, his head turned on your sofa, staring at him as you make a comment about something on the TV. 

“Yeah. It is. Not just because you’re always together or that you seek him out when you’re sad—which I know you do. It’s not because I know you share a bed with him, but because as your real best friend, you can’t keep your eyes off the bloke.” 

It should calm you. Ease your tired muscles and broken soul. You should find comfort in sharing this secret, the pain and pressure of carrying it halved. 

But, it instead opens the barely held-together parts of you. The marks you’ve left on yourself through determined resolve so you weren’t so easily read, bristles and gnaws.

And then, it strikes you. A bolt which sends shivers through your spine and toes, almost winding you and covering you in bruises. 

Because maybe he knows too. Which means he doesn’t feel the same. And, and—

You swallow, pushing the plate closer to Gaz. Feeling a slight twinge as you watch his smile fade, the edges of it drooping and wilting, but not enough to ask him why.

Your mind is too busy to care. Gripping the edges of the seat beside your thighs, hating that you’re on the wrong side of realisation—that now you’ve said it, that the secret has touched the air, it has allowed it to run more rampant through your veins.

It throbs in your bones and thumps in your saddened heart.

Because you miss him—

And, he’s only just gone. 

“Shit.”

“Why shit?”

“Because,” you say, swirling your hand as you try to find the words. 

Not sure if you can say that it’s consuming—loving him. That wanting him, missing Johnny… it’s taking so much from you. 

And, it’s only truly begun. 

Before it was held under a perfectly layered tarp with hidden emotions weighing it down. Now, it’s free, rising like a helium balloon, blowing in the space between the two of you. Him and you. You and him…

“Mari.”

You blink, feeling the sting of a tear which hovers between falling and not. “If you can tell, Kyle… then he can too. And he obviously doesn’t feel… he doesn’t feel the same.”

Gaz dips his head, staring at you—almost forcing you to hold his gaze without as much as asking you to. And it hurts to. Because it’s full of pity. 

A harder look to swallow, to ignore in his brown eyes. 

“Mar, he fucking loves you too.” 

“No–”

“Yes. Trust me, alright. As your actual best friend—which, by the way, I’m still fuckin’ insulted you put him above me—but, that man is in love with you. More than Price loves cigars—and he ripped a new arsehole in that recruit the other week because he made him drop one.” 

You snort. Force it out. 

You hope it’ll pacify him, tell him he has nothing to worry about. But it doesn’t work. 

He sees through you, raising both brows to inform you of so as your teeth dig further into the inside of your cheeks—leaving marks the tip of your tongue will feel for weeks. Each word of his landing with no comfort.

Even when he doesn’t say another thing. Even when he lets you excuse yourself—nodding in understanding when you say you’re going to sleep.

Not that you do.

You let time tick on. And it’s hours. 

Long, painful hours that feel like they’re spreading and bleeding into eternity. It’s apparent, as the day drags on, how you miss him a little louder. It’s all a little more obvious when he’s not on base. 

As though the knowledge that he can't turn a corner and call you lass or pull you into the crook of his shoulder—a place you crave now—makes the longing worse. 

You’d suspected it all long before now. Had turned it over in your mind when you’d listened to his heartbeat under your ear. You’d acknowledge it—accepted it—that Soap had become the best part of your day, that you don’t didn’t deserve him and couldn’t let him go all at once. 

You hadn’t gone to your room when you left Gaz, you went to Soap’s. Allowing yourself a moment to be with your thoughts and be surrounded by his scent. Then it became too much. It made your eyes sting, your heart heavy and your fingers cramp from clinging to the sheets he’d been laying in hours before. 

I’ll be back in a few hours…

But, there have already been a few gone. 

The realisation and knot of worry dragging its long claws up your throat as the loneliness peels your flesh back, as the threads around your heart tighten, and tighten. 

You miss him. 

Miss the way he pulls your neck into the crook of his shoulder, that he calls you lass—that his eyes linger that fraction longer with you, than they do with anyone else. 

It’s that which eases you as darkness ebbs in the corners of your eyes. Your eyelids closing, tears awaiting at the edges as you curl further into his pillow—the one the two of you have so often shared. 

If you sleep, you can miss him quieter, and love him a little easier—or so you hope. Feeling your legs grow heavy, sleep sliding up your body pulling you under its dreamy depths as you let his scent fill you. 

Because at least here, there’s a part of him everywhere—enough to trick you into letting yourself believe he’s beside you. It’s that which relaxes you over the last hurdle, your body weightless as sleep embalms your skin and quiets your brain. 

Just for a second. 

The briefest relief from it all. 

It’s why you suspect you don’t hear him enter. Lost in a world between the sleep and those who are awake—teetering in a wasteland devised only by yourself. 

But you feel him. 

It’s that which makes your eyes open—those knuckles. His knuckles. The ones covered in scars and healing cuts. The ones which often drag themselves up and down your cheek—running along it just the same right now. 

It’s dark in his room—the night having crept in and smothered the day. 

But, even without light, you see him all the same. 

Your eyes accustomed to seeking him—your beacon, your fucking sun. You have practice at it, staring through a scope to watch him, observe him—protect him. 

It’s different here. No danger, no reason—just a need to see him, spot him, drink him all in.

Especially when he’s like this, smiling, almost grinning—and very much alive.

The grin he gives is one he does more when it’s the two of you. One which almost tugs at your lips until they mirror his. Almost makes you spill all your secrets to him, like the one brewing and bubbling at the forefront of your mind:

Kiss me. Kiss me, Johnny, and… just—

“Y’doin’ ‘ere, lass?” 

You blink it away. Force it back and stuff it away. Both begging the tears to retreat back and the brutal thoughts which pepper your mind. 

You can’t reply, too afraid it’ll all come out.

Instead, you lift your hand from the sheets to his hand on your cheek. Staring, hoping your eyes are capable of burning the words into his mind that won’t stop rolling around yours. 

Because you’re tired of fighting it—fighting him. 

I love you. I love you, Johnny. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

His palm spreads flat over your cheek, head tilting as your fingers slide between his—fitting so perfectly, as if you’re both pieces of the same puzzle. 

You keep him there, letting the silence wrap around the two of you as his warmth spreads against the coolness of your skin. Your breaths grow deep, heavy, half-laced with beckoning sleep and still present worry.

“Y’missed me or something?” 

He’s not smiling. 

Nor laughing. 

The air shifting, changing—bubbles of it bouncing more intently around the two of you. The claw back in your throat, your flesh peeling, your heart being suffocated by the threads of ifs and buts and maybes—

It would be easier to say yes. To tell him the darn truth.

Instead, you smirk playfully. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

It would have brought comfort to say yes, to not hide anymore. To then freely wallow at home in sitcoms, chocolate and tissues if he told you he didn’t feel the same. But, you’re too afraid… 

Of losing him. This. A friendship and whatever else the two of you have built.

He shakes his head, dragging his thumb back and forward on your cheek—refusing to let go.

Not that you want him to.

You never want him to.

“Yer’ a right one, you. C’mon, the plane is callin’, lass. Need a scotch in me.”

read them not being idiots any more > 'yours to keep'

#soap mactavish x reader #soap x squid #john soap mactavish x reader #cod soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #Johnny soap mactavish

[artiststarme]

Don't Call Me Stupid Part 2

Here is Part 2 of the "Don't Call Me Stupid" story. This fic wasn't originally going to have a second part, I literally wrote Part 1 in fifteen minutes. But everyone seemed really interested in one so here you go! Please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve must’ve stayed in that position all night, curled up in his bed tangled with heartbreak and hurt. He woke up with a sore throat, dry eyes, and an emotional pain deep in his chest. He thought that Eddie was different from everyone else. Steve thought Eddie understood that he was smart in a different way. Less in book smarts and collecting clues, more in strategizing and connecting with people. For him to call him stupid just like all of the other people Steve had ever been disappointed by hurt him more than he had ever anticipated it could. 

Steve needed a break from Eddie, the Party, and Hawkins. He needed time to himself to enjoy being a kid without any judgment or childish name-calling that always hit a little too close to home for him. Maybe it would be a good idea to get out of town for a while. It had been a long time since he’d visited his aunt and uncle in Illinois anyway, he was sure they would let him stay for some time as a vacation of sorts. All he knew was that he couldn’t face Eddie right now and he couldn’t talk about his feelings without sounding like a blubbering idiot. 

With his door still locked, he pulled himself off the bed and started packing a travel bag. He didn’t expect to be gone for too long but he definitely needed a few changes of clothes and his hair care products. His mind may be swimming in hurt but there was no way he was going to take it out on his precious hair. He looked around his room one more time before nodding to himself and unlocking his bedroom door. He was good to go. 

When he opened his door though, there was an obstacle he hadn’t anticipated. Laying on the hardwood floor of the hallway was Eddie Munson. He too had tear tracks glistening on his cheeks and his hair was sticking up in all directions like he’d been running his hands through it all night. Steve just shook his head at the sight. Eddie had no reason to be crying, he was the one who called him stupid not the other way around. 

He tried to step over him as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up. All was fine until Eddie shifted in his sleep. Steve’s shoe got caught on the sleeve of Eddie’s jacket and he tripped which woke Eddie up immediately. He grabbed onto Steve’s legs like a fussy octopus and held on for dear life. 

“Steve, don’t go! Please, talk to me!” He pleaded with him desperately. 

“No, let go of me. I’m really not in the mood Eddie. I’m so stupid I probably won’t understand what you have to say anyways, right?”

“Steve, please. I’m sorry I called you stupid. It was a mistake, I don’t actually think you’re stupid. You’re the smartest person I know!” He said looking up at Steve with wide, pleading eyes. 

Steve whirled around to face him, an angered glare resting on his face. “Are you serious? You’re mocking me right now when you’re trying to apologize?!”

“No! I’m not kidding, Steve! Your mind is amazing. You’re always seeing details that the rest of us miss and you’re always the first to figure out my campaigns even though you refuse to play with us. I’m always in awe of how your mind works, I really did not mean to call you stupid or to hurt you.” His words sounded genuine but they did little to chip at the festering wound Steve had been developing for years. 

“Well you did. I’m so sick of everyone calling me stupid or dumb or saying I’m an idiot. I just want people to… be nice to me. The kids always make fun of me and I thought you wouldn’t but then you called me stupid yesterday when you knew it was a sore spot. It’s like you didn’t even care that you were hurting me,” Steve ranted. 

“Steve, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was saying and that’s absolutely 100% my fault. You’re not stupid babe and I shouldn’t have said that you were,” Eddie apologized again. He unwrapped his arms from around Steve’s legs and stood so they were eye level with one another. 

“Thank you for your apology but I don’t forgive you. You really hurt me last night and I’m done putting up with it. We’ll fix it later but I need some time to think about it on my own.” 

Eddie stilled and his eyes filled with tears. “Are you, are you breaking up with me?”

“No, I just need some time alone because what you said really hurt and I need time to deal with that. I’m leaving town but I’ll be back later and we can talk about it then.”

Eddie nodded and pulled him in for a tight hug, a hug which Steve returned. “I am so sorry. Take as much time as you need, Big Boy. I’ll be waiting and when you come back, I’ll fix this.” 

With that, Steve pulled away and made his way downstairs without a backwards glance. He could hear Eddie stifling his sobs and if he saw the tears dripping down his face, he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave. Steve grabbed his car keys and locked up his house before he disappeared like he had never been there at all. 

As he passed the town limits, he thought about his friends. He didn’t have much in the way of family, his parents never really liked him and his aunts and uncles had other nephews and nieces that would always be placed above him. Steve liked to think that the Party was his family. That Hopper was the caring dad he never had, Joyce was the standoffish step-mom who liked him just fine but had no idea how to parent him, and the kids were all his siblings. He didn’t have many positive influences in the way of family but he was almost certain that good family members didn’t put you down unnecessarily. He understood sibling rivalries and getting on your nerves but that’s not what this was. 

They knew he didn’t like being called stupid or having his intelligence (what little of it there was) questioned. He’d told them before, he tried to communicate his feelings like Robin told him to, but it hadn’t worked. Would family members continuously put him down like they did? It might be because Steve’s emotions were so raw but right then it felt like if the Party was a family then Steve was just an outsider doing anything to be a part of it but always falling too short. 

He’d go back home eventually, in a week or maybe two. Once he could compartmentalize the hurt and heartbreak, he would go back to Hawkins and talk to the Party about why words hurt. Why the comments about being dumb and stupid and retarded chipped at his heart little by little. But for now, he was going to do something selfish for once and have a short vacation away from it all.

@mycouchismyotherhalf @strangerthingfanfic @bxlthazar @shoujo-goddess @paintsplatteredandimperfect @amoris-no-smut-allowed @just-a-tiny-void

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#He goes back and doesn't end up bringing it up #he doesn't want any of the kids to feel bad or angry at him #so he sucks it up and moves on but every 'stupid' comment breaks him down just a little bit more #Eddie never insults him again and yells at anyone who dares to in his presence #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 8

Here we get Eddie side of the story mixed with a bit of what happened to Steve. I traded bats for a ruptured appendix and died for almost.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  

*

Eddie got to his apartment and called Chrissy. It was time for that long talk.

Chrissy arrived with beer and ice cream. She flopped on the sofa and handed him the first beer.

“So you going to finally tell me why you hate Garnet?” she asked, popping open her own beer.

Eddie sighed and settled next to her with two spoons. He handed one to her and dug into the ice cream. “First off, you’re going have to know his real name, because context is key.”

Chrissy shrugged. “I had a feeling they all knew each other before you told me you went to high school with them. I don’t think Diamond realized. I think he just assumes that they have been working together for so long that they just work well together.”

Eddie closed his eyes tightly and opened them slowly. “His name is Steve Harrington and I’ve never hated him.”

Chrissy raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, Eddie, you seemed pretty hostile to me.”

Eddie took a swig of his beer and leaned back against the cushions. “Yeah, well. In high school he was everything. You know the type. Beautiful, athletic, rich, popular, sweet as honey. Everyone had a crush on this dude.”

She grinned, dimpling her cheeks. “So like me!”

Eddie laughed and kissed her forehead. “I do have a type, sweetheart.”

“Good taste,” she said with a wink. “I approve. Go on.”

“He was everything,” he murmured. “And then after I came back from an acute case of appendicitis everything had changed. He suddenly wasn’t the top of the food chain. He was closed off, withdrawn. Almost angry.” He frowned recalling how everyone just seemed to avoid Steve like he was the plague.

“And then,” Eddie continued, “about a year or so after I finally graduated. I see him in this tight light blue polo shirt and he’s soaking wet, like someone dumped water on him or something.” He cleared his throat. “He was sitting there just shivering. So I go over there and ask if he needs help. He doesn’t even look up, so I reach out and touch his shoulder to try and get his attention.”

Eddie squeezed his eyes closed again, fighting back the tears. “And he hits me. He hits me so hard I have to go the fucking hospital.”

Chrissy put down her beer and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Eddie! I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

Eddie curled up into a ball, beginning to sob. “Hunt the freak, you know? So he hates me enough to lash out and seriously hurt me. So I’ve trading barbs with him to keep him at a distance. To keep myself from getting hurt again. Maybe not physically this time. But hurt nonetheless.”

“So what changed?” she whispered into his hair. “Why tell me this now?”

“I was on my way home when I saw Robin...eh, Pearl to you, crouching down next to Steve as he rocked back and forth clutching his hair.”

Chrissy’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit, was he okay?”

Eddie struggled to get up, so she let him. “He was having a panic attack. Apparently he has these nasty scars on his back. Like really ugly rug burns, but way worse. And when it started raining the white shirt turned translucent.”

“And he was panicking about people being able to see them?” she asked gently.

Eddie nodded. “He dissociates and can get violent. He only has a vague recollection of these things. I looked it up and sometimes they don’t remember anything at all.”

Chrissy sagged. “Oh shit. He doesn’t know he hit you, does he?”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m sure Robin’s gonna tell him. But yeah. Everything I’ve known, everything I’ve held close to my chest for so long, nursing that ache. Sharpening knives on the wound, letting it bleed and fester has been a lie.”

“No, baby,” she whispered. “No. How were you to know? How would have anyone known?”

He let out a shuddering breath. “Apparently the entire fucking country knows according to Robin.”

Chrissy cocked her head to the side and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She said that what happened to him was on the news for a long time,” he explained.

She pulled out her phone and began typing. “Holy fucking shit.”

Eddie tried to look at her phone but she pulled away from him. “What?”

She gulped and turned to him slowly. “I thought the name Steve Harrington sounded familiar. Drink the rest of that beer, babe. You’re going to need it.”

Eddie took a long sip of his beer, eyeing her warily. He held up the bottle to show that it was empty and set it down. “All right, spill. What the fuck is horrifying that I need to be drunk for it?”

She turned the phone over and Eddie got up and personal shots of the scars on Steve’s back when they were road rash. There were also close up shots of a ring like wound around his neck. The neck one looked worse than the road burn.

“What the fuck happened?” he choked out.

Chrissy took her phone back and set it on the coffee table. “I’m going to tell you what I heard and remember and then later you can look up news articles and TV spots. Later because I don’t think I can take hearing it again. Because Eddie? It was entirely fucked up.”

Eddie looked at her with tears in his eyes. “How fucked up are we talking about?”

“Like got the Feds involved, hate crime levels of fucked up,” she said darkly. “And you have to understand this all from news reports and stuff. I wasn’t there, you’d have to ask Steve or Robin...” she paused. “It feels weird to call them by their real names. Because she was involved, too.”

“What happened?” he asked, barely holding back the tears.

“Prom king, captain of the basketball team, co-captain of the swim team was tied up and dragged behind the motorcycle of a rival at school because he stepped in between him and a girl who was be bullied for being gay.”

“What?!” Eddie squawked. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

Chrissy shook her head. “That’s how the story goes anyway. And if Garnet is Steve Harrington like you say he is, then fuck. His dad didn’t just kick him out for being gay. His dad beat him and threw him out the second he turned eighteen. It was part of the big scandal. He went to go stay with Robin’s family until he graduated high school.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “And all this happened when?”

Chrissy rubbed her lip thoughtfully. “When were you in the hospital?”

Eddie sat back and really had to think. “It would have been after the middle school’s Snow Ball, because me and the boys played. But before Christmas? I vaguely remember having to go back to school for a couple days before winter break.”

She nodded. “That tracks. While you were in the hospital with acute appendicitis Steve was getting the shit beaten out of him by a raging homophobe and his dad.” She paused for a moment and tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “Who is also a raging homophobe.”

Eddie tilted his head back and sighed. He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to hold back his tears. After a few moments, he lowered his head and looked Chrissy in the eye. “I’ve fucked up, haven’t I?”

Chrissy leaned over and took his face gently in her hands. “You listen to me Edmund Joseph Munson. You did not fuck up. You protected yourself with the information you had. You only fuck up if you continue to be an ass.”

He let out a shuddered breath. “I don’t know what to do now. How to act, what to say.”

She pulled him to her chest. “Apologizing and explaining is the best place to start.”

He nodded and let the tears flow, sobbing into her shoulder as he was racked with shame and guilt.

*

Steve woke up to a somber Robin and jacket he knew better than his own. Eddie’s leather jacket, the one he always wore.

She sat him down and explained what happened last night. And he sat through it all, numb.

“Oh.”

He didn’t know what else to say. What could he say? Eddie’s reason for hating him was valid.

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Steve rubbed the soft leather of the jacket between his fingers. “I wouldn’t even know how to make it up to him.”

Robin tilted her head, her expression fond. “I know movies tell you to go big when making it up to people. But I’ve found people are more likely to be embarrassed by that shit. So start small, and keep being repentant. Just know, he doesn’t have to forgive you. He might never.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Robs.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re the best friend a guy could have.”

She smiled. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Never.”

*

Steve got to class and sat nervously in his spot, his knee jerking wildly, tapping his foot against the rung of the stool. And then Eddie walked in wearing a soft grey hoodie with a denim vest over top of it.

Steve gulped. Eddie looked good. He grabbed the jacket from his bag and hurried up to him.

“Hey,” he greeted shyly.

Eddie turned to him, like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Um...thanks for the jacket.” Steve held out the jacket at arm’s length, trying so hard not to squeeze his eyes to brace against Eddie’s forthcoming attack.

Eddie took the jacket gently from Steve’s grasp. “Hey, it was the least I could do since I couldn’t do anything else.”

Steve hung his head. “Yeah. I should see a therapist to at least getting better coping strategies but that requires money and health insurance. Two things that are a little thin on the ground right now.”

Eddie’s shouldered sagged, he put his other hand on Steve’s bicep. “Hey, PTSD is inevitable after what you went through. I’m just sorry I didn’t know until now.”

Steve lifted his head, furrowing his brow. “That’s what Robin said. But I don’t understand how.”

Eddie pursed his lips and gave Steve’s arm a squeeze before letting go. “Just before all that...” he waved his hand in vague gesture, “shit happened to you, I was in the hospital with a ruptured appendix. The doctors tell me it was touch and go for awhile. I almost died.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit. Oh my god. That’s horrible.”

Around them the class had filled up and Joyce was moving to the center of the room. The class was about to start.

Eddie looked around. “Look, can we talk after class?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, man. I’d like that. A lot.”

Eddie smiled, sweet, but small. “I’ll see you then.”

Steve smiled back and went to sit down. Today they were starting full nudity before the final. Get them used to the naked form.

Steve blushed a deep red when Eddie stepped out from behind the partition who used to get undressed and Eddie raised a cocky eyebrow.

This was going to be a long three hours.

Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Epilogue

Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #art school au #gay steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #ladykailtiha writes

[izvmimi]

cw: brief nsfw. minors dni. cheating reader, complicated relationship dynamics, a part 2 to nova’s ( @raichijingos ) fic calling twice.

Izuku watches you carefully as you finish up your conversation with Katsuki, and once you hang up the phone, a sweet, complacent smile on your face, he crosses his arms over his chest loosely, a bit of trepidation evident on his face.

“I’m a bit impressed and disturbed by how convincing that was.”

You raise your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

This question is posed with your voice a little too light, and therein lies the insecurity and hurt festering in the pit of your stomach. Izuku stands a bit closer, but doesn’t hold your hand. Not yet, at least. For now, the two of you stand in front of the imposing skyscraper where your cheating partners supposedly work, and most likely fuck just as much, and you wonder if the building grows just a bit larger.

“I think I shaved a few years off my life in that one minute pretending not to be angry,” Izuku mumbles as you start to walk through the glass doors. You’re still angry too, you think, perhaps because denial is no longer feasible at this point in time, especially since you’re now standing in the same building where your so-called friend opens her legs for your partner.

She’s in the room now, you think and you grit your teeth. Will she get her clothes back on by the time you make it up the elevator?

Izuku obtains wristbands and directions from the receptionist and returns to where you stand, handing you one tentatively. You notice the slight hand tremor and frown. Your own heart is steady for now.

“Calm down,” you tell him suddenly. 

He blinks, then looks away. “Yeah.”

“We’re even,” you murmur under your breath. You can see him dry swallow, as he remembers that just last night he was balls deep inside you in your hotel room, and probably can fill up a notebook or two with the exact tones your voice makes when you cum. 

“Perhaps.”

You shoot him a look and he says nothing more. Now you are the one shaking, you realize as you press the elevator door close key four times in rapid succession. It won’t make the elevator move any faster. It won’t negate the fact that Bakugou has fucked your friend a countless number of times. It won’t change anything.

You still have his stupid ring on your finger. You also wonder if Izuku still has the engagement ring he’d planned for his unfaithful girlfriend burning a hole in his back pocket. It’s pretty like yours. Pretty and worthless. 

You remember how he cried when you, without thinking, immediately marched over to his hotel room and told him the news. Still furious, not able to forget the fact that you could see the very obvious pair of women’s panties in the corner of the image in the bedtime selfie he’d sent you, and even worse, the fact that your so-called friend had acted oddly to the suggestion that he could, perhaps, be cheating on you. She was a god awful liar.

If it hadn’t been her, a witch hunt would have ensued immediately. And yet, she pretended to be exhausted and had been desperate to re-address it in the morning. 

And never called that morning, nor this morning.

In retrospect, you should have known. She was always around, always too invested in Katsuki’s whereabouts, and called him her evil twin. Funny how willing she was to fuck family, really?

So you did the same. Izuku was more a brother to you than anything. But pain is as pain does, and you had needed to do something, anything to regain control over the situation.

And while you couldn’t pretend it completely eased the hurt, you have to admit you liked it. Like indulging in forbidden fruit, there was a subtle thrill in it once the endorphins rushed in along with all the heat to your pussy lips, along with the drag of his thick cock against your walls. There was something cathartic about the release, the idea of someone, anyone holding you tight, burying their head in your chest, stretching you wide. Being wanted, being wanted, being wanted. 

Would it hurt her to know that you could play so dirty the same way it hurt you? To know that you were sharing without each other’s knowledge, neither the true fool?

Or was this her plan all along? A decoy, so to speak. 

The elevator door opens on the floor, and you no longer have any time to ponder, the ding of the bell so loud you think you can hear it in your throat. There’s a feeling that seems like disembodiment as you walk out. You’re not paying attention to Izuku behind you.

Down the hallway, where you’ll turn right into his office as directed, you can see her step out first, followed by Katsuki right behind her. Her eyes make contact with yours and her lips pull into a weak, half-hearted smile.

And you see red.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: bakugou #thoughts: izuku #mimi friendly fires #mimi's notes

[emptyheadwriting]

I Leave This Letter to You, Beloved (Alternative Ending)

Be sure to read CMBIPP and ILTLTYB first for background

Word count:1.3k

Warnings:reader death,talks of suicide, hallucinations, and a funeral

Wednesday’s hands shook rapidly, the letter ruffling from her force. How could she ever live with herself, her brain was tearing itself apart as she cowered further into her seat, terrified to lift her eyes and have them fall upon your lifeless body.

“Please” she whimpered, her hands shooting up to grip the sides of her face in agony. The letter floated down to the floor slowly, wavering sideways on its descent before it finally fell. The paper’s movements ceased, everything seemed to go quiet, until a constant beep filled the room.

It took Wednesday until doctors started to rush into the room to grasp what the noise was and what it meant. “no no no” she said, voice getting louder with each word, “save her, don’t just stand there, save my wife! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill all of you” rage was all she could manage to summon as she stood from her chair and berated the doctors.

No matter her fight, there was nothing she could do, you were no longer there laying on the hospital bed. Only a shell, a body no longer full of life and love remained, and she could do nothing more than collapse over your chest, sobs of how sorry she was pouring from her lips for the rest of the night.

—

Wednesday Addams the Widow, it was not a title the woman ever hoped to hold when she married you, but as she looked around the small group of people that were standing around the Addams Family graveyard she realized that it has been finalized.

“I am so sorry my storm cloud, I can not imagine how you are feeling” Gomez said honestly as he laid a hand on her shoulder in an attempt of comfort. There would be none from his words or his touch, he only received a dismissive hum.

“I can’t believe she’s gone Wednesday, I thought we would all end up in a retirement home together like we were back in school all over again” Enid said teary eyed, Ajax by her side nodded along silently, his eyes not leaving your casket.

“A ridiculous thought” Wednesday said softly with a shake of her head. She had always envisioned you and herself dying together in your sleep, fading off into nothingness together, intertwined one last time.

Uncle Fester did not bother to say anything on his approach. No he simply stood by her, and snuck his hand around her waist before pulling her into a side hug, the squeeze on his own side telling him all the words of appreciation she would not dare speak, even now after all that had come from not sharing her emotions or caring enough about others.

Wednesday gave one last kiss to your ring before you were lowered into the ground, she shoveled on all the dirt herself as everyone else watched too scared to offer a hand due to the determination on the widow’s brow.

Lurch added your tombstone, and the ceremony was complete, people started to filter out, many leaving a lingering hand across your tombstone on their pass.

Wednesday sat on the grass next to your grave, her sight being overtaken by a shadow as her mother stood over her. “What will you do now my dove?” She asked gently, frowning at the way the her normally stoic daughter’s lip quivered.

The two shared an embrace in front of you before parting, Wednesday had things to do as far as she was concerned.

—

She flew back to the cabin, packed all of her things. Installed more cameras than there already was and locked all the doors and windows for the last time, for she had quit her job and knew where she needed to go.

She flew to your hometown, she had bought the first house she could get her hands on the day after your death. It was so strange. The place she had never bothered to visit or even really pay attention to a story about your time there, was the place she had decided she would spend the rest of her days.

Wednesday was full of regret at each pleasant moment she had. She visited places she had heard you describe and would breathe them in, cursing herself for never getting to see them with you. She would wake up every morning to sounds that you endlessly compared to those that would fill the cabins walls. You were right when you said those of your hometown were more, gentle a harmony of soft chirps and people starting their days greeted her pale ears.

On one of her firsts nights she decided to order food from the one restaurant you had mentioned before, you had mentioned it once in your time together, how she could remember that from a random parents weekend and not remember to show her wife proper affection and care was a mystery to her.

She unpacked the bag and sat down with your go-to order, and when she looked up across the table she saw you, bloodied, cut up, but with a small smile on your face. She ate a small bite, as her eyes stayed trained on your glimmering image.

“How are you liking all of the things that made me, me?” You asked gently, placing your hands on the table, fingers interlocked with each other.

“I’ve missed your voice” she starts, and looks away at the look of disapproval written on your face, “I know that’s not what you asked, I wanted to express myself is all, I love them all” she says sadly, “I should have experienced them all with you” her eyes finally going back to you.

You shrugged with a laugh, the sound making your wife shudder and nearly moan, it was heavenly, and she wished she had worked harder to hear it while you were still alive, “well I’m dead now, atleast you’ve gotten around to it” a wide smile forms on your lips at the upturn of her lips.

“I could join you” she offers serious, she knows she’s talking to herself, much too smart to not realize that this image of you was only her mind’s doing, but the offer sounds favorable and reasonable to her.

“No my love, you still have so much to do” your voice floats into her ear as your image fades away.

That night after her meal she calls her mom for a favor.

—

Months have passed since she saw you at her dinner table, she had picked up a few new habits.

The plants by the windows and on the porch grew as best as they could due to her novice gardening skills.

A few drawings were hung around the house. All done in charcoal, her own style of commemorating you in art. Each one was inspired by a part of you, your smile, your eyes, the way you would pull her close, and everything in between.

The most important of all, nightly calls to a crystal ball that was positioned on your gravestone. She would talk about her day, new experiences, and reminisce on your life together.

“I miss you a lot today my love, I saw a little girl at the store, her laugh sounded so much like yours I almost cried, I settled on buying her a candy that her mother refused her”

The private conversation was muffled by the walls and distance between the graveyard and the house, but the Addams Family Manor was a quiet home these days and Morticia and Gomez heard it nonetheless.

“Do you think she will ever stop cara mia?” Gomez asks softly, fingers dancing on his wife’s arm.

“Would you ever stop darling?” She asked with a roll of her eyes, knowing the answer that was to come.

“Of course not” he said like it was the most ridiculous question he had ever been asked.

“then no, she will not stop, she did promise our daughter in law forever after all” Morticia says gently.

—

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#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday x you #wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams #angst

[queenxxxsupreme]

Late Night Visitor (Billy Butcher x reader)

A/N: This is definitely not my best work, but Butcher is fucking killing me so this is all I got right now

Warnings: blood, bullet wounds, curse words, 

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: A ghost from your past shows up in the middle of the night.

The feeling of being watched drew you out of your sleep. You kept your eyes shut as you moved your hand underneath your pillow. The hard metal of a glock passed over your fingertips. You gripped the gun firmly with one hand and then sat up, turning in the bed to face the figure standing at the end of your bed. 

Your eyes widened a little, your breath caught in your lungs. 

“Billy?”

“Hello, doll.” His voice was quiet. 

He stood a little hunched over, one hand tucked into his jacket while the other hung limply by his side. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You reached over to turn on a lamp by your bedside. When you looked back to him, he had his eyes closed. 

His face was splattered with blood, his lip busted and his nose bleeding. That stupid coat you hated so much was covered in a dark substance. More blood. 

He took a breath, preparing to speak, but then winced. His face twisted up in pain and he tilted his head down. 

You quickly got out of bed and moved to him, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek. You tilted his head upwards to get a good look at his face. Bruising was beginning to form just beneath his left eye. 

Blue eyes met yours. 

“Oh, Billy. You look like hell.”

He almost chuckled but the sound became stuck in his throat and he began to cough a little. 

“Come on. I have things in the kitchen.” You took his hand and began to guide him out to the kitchen. “Sit.” You gestured to the table. “And take off that fucking coat.”

Butcher obliged and went to sit at the table. As he sat down, he let out a painful breath. The leather trench coat he wore was difficult to take off, but he did so and let it fall to the floor. 

You moved to retrieve a bag from underneath the sink. 

“How’ve you been, doll?”

“Don’t start that bullshit, Billy.” You pulled a chair up next to him. You started to shuffle through the bag until you found gauze and rubbing alcohol. 

“M’just askin’ a fuckin’ question. No need to be a right bitch about it.” 

You began to wipe the blood from his face.

“I’d be very careful with the next thing you call me, Billy Butcher.” You spoke under your breath. “You’re one hit away from dying and finally giving me fucking peace.”

He chuckled, amused by your hostility. 

“It’s been a while since I last saw ya.” 

“Three years.” You sighed. It was a sigh Butcher knew all too well. 

“I know you’re just tryin’ to be all cute and lovey and shit cleanin’ up my ugly mug, but I got a nice big bullet lodged into me side, and I’d really appreciate some help with it.”

Your eyes widened. 

“You’ve been shot?”

“That’s what I just said, ain’t it?”

You threw the gauze down on the table and shook your head slowly. 

You could feel the anger and rage rising in your veins, bubbling and festering. He always knew how to get you angry. 

You searched the bag to find the items you would need to pull a bullet from his side. A pair of tweezers and a lighter were placed down on the table. 

“The fuck do ya think you’re gonna do with that?” Butcher furrowed his brows. 

You didn’t answer him as you took hold of his button down shirt and ripped it open. The buttons flew off in every direction, hitting the floor and the table. 

“Could’ve just asked me to take my shirt off for ya, doll.”

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Billy.” You picked up the tweezers and the lighter. The lighter would serve as a sterilizing agent for the tweezers. 

“You sure you don’t wanna cut me open a little more to reach the little bugger?” He joked.

The lighter was tossed down on the table. You pressed your hand against his chest, pushing him back in his seat. 

“I’d rather see you squirm.”

“Ha, you always loved to make me– Ah, fucking–!” Butcher gritted his teeth together as you started to gently dig in his side for the bullet. 

The wound was messy and the amount of blood that covered the area made it less than easy to determine exactly what you were doing. 

“Are ya tryin’ to fuckin’ kill me, ya bloody bitch!”

You grinned a little, finding peace in his pain. 

You pulled the bullet out and placed it on the table before you began to clean up the wound. 

Butcher settled with gritting his teeth together as he watched your every move. 

“Never seen you so quiet, doll.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Ya aren’t gonna take this opportunity to finally put me down, are ya?”

“I thought about it.” You very briefly looked up at him before going back to the bullet wound. “Rid the world of the miserable piece of shit that is Billy Butcher.”

He snorted. 

“That’s my sweet little doll.”

You gritted your teeth together and pressed your hand against the wound, earning a few colorful curse words from Butcher. 

“You don’t get to call me that.” You finished patching his side up, then decided to move on to his busted knuckles. Right now, you couldn’t look at him long enough to clean up his face.

“Look, I know you’re pissy about the last time we saw each other and ya got your knickers all in a twist–,”

“I don’t care about the last time we saw each other, Billy. I am mad that you think it’s okay to break into my apartment in the middle of the night after three years of no contact.”

“I was in the neighborhood. Dropped by for a little visit.”

“You’re always in the fucking neigborhood. You just decided to see me now. Why?”

Butcher sighed, shaking his head softly. 

You adjusted your grip on his hand and continued to wipe the blood from his knuckles, then apply an anti-bacterial ointment to his hand. 

Silence fell between you both. You wrapped one hand, then tended to the other. Neither of you spoke until you started to clean up his face. 

You placed one hand on his jaw so that you could hold him where you wanted him. With your other hand, you continued to clean him up. 

“You never said goodbye.” Your voice was low and quiet. “I…. I thought you died. I had to reach out to Grace to make sure you weren’t….”

“M’sorry, Y/N. Shit came up and I couldn’t get you involved in it.”

“That’s a load of bullshit.”

He sighed, turning his head away from you. You let your hands fall to your lap. 

“I missed you.”

“Fuck you, Billy.” You stood up, running your hands through your hair. “Fuck you! You don’t– You don’t get to come back after three fucking years and just…. What kind of game are you playing?”

Butcher looked at you with that stupid stoic look you hated so much. 

“There’s no games, doll. I just…. I just couldn’t stay away anymore.”

“Bastard.” You cursed under your breath. “Finish cleaning up yourself and then leave.”

You started to go towards your bedroom, but he spoke. 

“Y/N, wait, damn it!” He stood up to his feet. “Three years ago, I got my old team back together.”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Your team? The ones who fucking went after supes?”

“That be the one.” Butcher nodded once. “When that happened, I couldn’t bring myself to drag you into that raging shit fire.”

“Why are you here now, Billy?” You whispered.

He looked at you, broad shoulders falling as he took a few breaths. 

“I’m fuckin’ tired, doll.” He was quiet as he spoke. He sounded almost broken, defeated. 

You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched Butcher sit back down. This time, he slouched in the chair and hung his head, eyes closed. 

“Just fuckin’ tired.”

Your chest tightened. You wanted to console him, to comfort him and make him feel better. But your head told you to leave. Leave everything behind and grab a plane to another country. 

Your feet started to work without you, taking you towards his chair. You reached out to brush your fingers through his dark hair. 

“Go get cleaned up in the shower.” You leaned down to kiss his head. He pressed his head further into your touch until his forehead rested against your abdomen. “I’m sure I’ve got clothes of yours somewhere still.”

Butcher stood to his full looming height and started for your room. Half way there, he turned to look at you. 

“You mean a lot to me, doll. You know that?”

You said nothing as you gazed at him. 

Your silence prompted him to continue his journey towards the master bedroom. 

Your knees became shaky and it was hard for you to catch your breath. You sat down heavily in the chair he had just been in. You rubbed your palms together and tried to take a deep breath. Tears pricked your vision. You found yourself staring at the ceiling in an attempt to keep from crying. 

“Fucking bastard.”

Note : I don’t have a taglist for the Boys yet, but if you’d like to be on it, go to this link :)

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x reader angst #william butcher x reader #william butcher #butcher x reader #the boys prime #the boys fic #the boys #queenxxxsupreme

[theelvenhaven]

Sickening Plan

Celegorm x Reader

2.9k Words

Warnings: Emotional cheating, drinking, alcohol, attempted manipulation and gaslighting, angsty.

A/N: Unrequested work. So since I posted a headcanon for Friday I am adding a fic for Monday. Hope you all enjoy and shout out to my beta readers @batsyforyou and @fandomhoe101 for helping me with this piece and giving me feedback

 * * * 

Fury didn’t begin to describe what it was you were feeling as you entered in your office, a bottle of wine in hand. You wanted to get away from your so called partner as you closed the door with control. Careful not to slam it, not really wanting to draw gossip nor your partner to attention. They had brought here a Doriathan princess, the beautiful Luthien… And it was apparent to you that Celegorm was certainly of the same thoughts and far from caring about how you felt about the whole situation. 

You could tell from the look in his pale blue eyes that he was smitten with her, taken by her beauty and grace. Her soft spoken voice, with a firmness in it. Hair that was inky dark like a long cascade of a starless night, who Huan had taken a liking to it would appear. A Lady who was here on their invitation, and utterly kind. It certainly put her father to shame as you had listened to her plight when she first arrived. 

It wasn’t her beautiful and fair appearance that bothered you, or how long and pretty her black hair was. It wasn’t that she was perfect in appearance nor her kindness and gentle voice that irked you and festered beneath your skin. It was none of those things that was making you feel rage towards her. Then again as you thought about it, you weren’t really vengeful and angry towards Luthien. How could you be? When all she wanted to be was with the love of her life, Beren. 

No it was none of those things. 

What infuriated you was the conversation you had overheard Celegorm having with Curufin in their studies. Wanting to meet back up with them after you spoke to Luthien, to thank them for being so kind and at ease with her. For taking her in and trying to figure out how to assist her in her plight to find the man of her dreams so she could wed him and be together. 

It was the fact that Celegorm seemed to droll on about her beauty and even going on to compare you to her that was your problem. Bringing you to have paused right outside the door as the words just seemed to spill out of his mouth like a broken faucet. It had made ice run through your veins at the reverence he spoke of about her, and it made an ache start in your chest. But you had felt rooted in your spot, listening as Curufin went on to suggest marrying Luthien to Celegorm.

You had waited for him to deny it, to turn down the idea. Because he loved you right? You and Celegorm had been together for quite some time, it was logical those next steps should be considered between the two of you and not between him and Luthien. Yet Celegorm had chimed in all too quickly about accepting the idea. With Curufin rattling off a list of pro’s though Celegorm told him he hadn’t needed it. That being with such a beautiful elleth was motivation enough. 

Now here you were, sitting at your desk in your study. A decanter of wine almost completely drained and your glass of wine was filled to the brim, easily on your second very full glass. Already starting to feel warm and fuzzy, though fury continued to come in waves, ebbing and flowing as you continued to think on how readily Celegorm was going to abandon you for her. 

Your mind wanted to be angry with Luthien, to yell at her. To demand that she leave this instance, to tell her how she was terrible and temptation for already spoken for men and ellyn alike. But as you thought of her and her plight and her current quest, you felt the rage dampen towards her. You couldn’t possibly be mad at her for just existing, for having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

On the other hand when you thought of Celegorm and all the years you had been together, and how much you had loved him. Still loved him and thought that he was your one… Yet he was going to squander it all away for Luthien. Someone he barely knew… You were seeing red, all you could do was pick up your wine glass with care and take a generous swallow or two from it. Letting the dry wine and its bitterness slide down your throat as you glared up at the ceiling before setting it back down. 

Hearing the sound of your office door open and to your displeasure, the source of your fury stepped in. Celegorm looked at you with bright eyes, almost as if he was eager to see you. Before they trailed to the glass on the desk in front of you, 

“Partying this early in the evening?” He quipped out in amusement as he shut the door behind himself. You watched as his stupid face seemed to have a smug smirk on it, watching him fold his arms over his chest. Your eyes sharply glanced at him with a tight frown pulling at your lips, before you picked the glass back up, you were certainly going to need another bottle… 

“And without me at that. What’s the occasion?” He asked, moving to grab a chair, dragging it around the desk to come sit in front of the chair that you were slumped back in. Your hand angrily piddling at the hem of your robes, as a tick set in your jaw. Celegorm sat down and you watched as some of the smugness was wiped off his face, picking up the decanter with a quarter cup of wine left in the bottom. Pulling the top from it and taking a swig. 

There was a long moment of silence as the two of you stared at one another. You were still so angry and you couldn’t believe that he was pretending like nothing was the matter. As though he wasn’t conspiring with Curufin to marry Luthien. Like he didn’t worship the very ground she walked upon and they only just met. It took you a long moment to take a deep breath to rein in your fury before you took a breath. Opening your mouth to speak. 

“Well Lord Celegorm,” You addressed in a drunken callousness, feeling emboldened by the wine you had drunk. “It would appear I am celebrating your upcoming nuptials.” 

A look of confusion crossed his features for a moment, before you watched another stupid smirk cross his lips. You wanted to wipe it off his face so bad, you hated it. You were angry. The realization coming to you as the fact that if that was going to be his upcoming nuptials… Then it wasn’t going to be a mutual agreement. Not with how hard Luthien was set on Beren. 

“My upcoming nuptials?” He quipped back, leaning back in his chair, spreading his legs comfortably as he rested the decanter casually on his thigh. Gripping the neck of it with his fist, he tilted his head, with blond hair spilling over his shoulder. 

“Is this your way of proposing? I must say I always pictured being the one to do it and you being less angry with me for it.” Celegorm said in amusement, and you narrowed your eyes as you watched the sense of pride that seemed to fill him at the idea of this being some kind of backwards proposal. You definitely weren’t proposing and did he think you were stupid? To not know what it was he and Curufin were planning? To marry him off to Luthien. And he wanted to be! 

“Going to be hard to accept my proposal if you are already engaging yourself to Luthien, don’t you think?” This time there was satisfaction that filled you as you watched the way the smile seemed to leave his face. The way his pride seemed to deflate and a more scornful look found his face, ah there it was. Finally something other than pride and smugness. It was refreshing. You were looking for an argument at this point. 

It wasn’t like you to get drunk like this, you knew drinking your problems was a bad idea. Always was it. But you didn’t know what else to do, and so you had let yourself- literally- marinate in the wine. Letting everything fester. Now you wanted to take it out on him for betraying you. You were hurt. 

“What are you talking about?” Celegorm asked with a stiffness to his voice that he used when he was lying to you about something and was caught red handed. It was a rare thing for him to lie to you about something but not these days it seemed. Not when they were spent skulking around with Curufin, who was encouraging Celegorm to shut you out. Now he had successfully found a way to do it to you. 

“Do you think I am a fool? To not know what you and Curufin were speaking of earlier?” You pressed in a bitter tone, your hand holding the stem of the wine glass. Turning it slowly on top of the table top as you ground your teeth. You heard Celegorm release a big huff at your words, scoffing even and you knew he was rolling his eyes. 

“You don’t know the whole nature of that conversation, nor do you have all the details.” 

“Oh I heard enough.” You barked back, “I heard plenty about how perfect Luthien was, about how beautiful she was, that she was even prettier than I was. Or about how wonderful she smelled, or how her skin was softer and more perfect than mine.” You glared as you spoke every word to him, a sharp look finding his face yet he couldn’t get his eyes to look up at you and meet your gaze. 

“She’s so beautiful Curvo, she makes Y/N pale in comparison.” You quoted in a mocking voice, gesturing with your freehand with gusto, bringing up your wine glass to drink from. 

“You don’t know the extent of the conversation or what brought it up for me to say those things.” Celegorm countered, leaning back in his chair still. Watching you shift uncomfortably as you cast your gaze away rolling your own eyes and shaking your head. Your hand coming back down to your robes to pick at again. 

“Oh? Really? Are you going to tell me you lied to your own brother?” You scoffed with a sneer on your lips, and you watched a stoic look crossing his features. You didn’t know how it was he could so easily fool others and lie to Finrod. (Which you often fought him on). Yet with you, you could see through all his lying. Celegorm was lying to you. 

“Yes, I did in fact.” 

“I don’t believe you. You’re lying.” Again Celegorm huffed out at your words, he hated that you could see through him. Though he wasn’t going to hint at that to you. You only knew he regretted getting caught saying those things. 

“What about you? What were you doing eavesdropping on a conversation that was private?” Celegorm retorted, trying to twist and turn this back onto you. A defense mechanism to try and take the heat off of himself from you. Yet you weren’t going to buy into the bait, nor were you going to argue. They had summoned you to be there when you finished speaking with Luthien. 

“Don’t change the subject!” You quipped, “Are you or are you not going to marry her?” 

There was a long and uncomfortable silence, and while he gave you a poker face… His lack of quickness to deny that was the plan proved to you that was what his intentions were with her. He was going to force her into a marriage with him, just as Eol had forced Aredhel, and it was sickening. You couldn’t believe that he was going to go through with this!

“You’re sick!” You said bitterly, forcibly scooting your chair away from him, and standing from your spot. You grabbed your wine glass, walking around the oak desk to be on the opposite end of the room. Feeling his hand coming to grab your upper arm to stop you. 

“Wait! Y/N let me explain!” Celegorm said in a firm and deep voice, but you sneered up at him. Feeling the ground sway some beneath your feet and how light headed you were feeling from the alcohol. You wanted to sit again and enjoy the warm fuzzies, that were trying to dampen the immense rage you felt swelling in your chest. To be done with this conversation because you had heard enough from him. 

“What is there to explain?” You all but yelled at him, raising your voice. You were furious. You didn’t want to hear anymore of this sickening plan. He had hurt you enough with what all he had to say comparing you to Luthien. Now he was going to marry her. He was throwing you away so easily.

“It is only in vows! Not through binding of our fea!” He retorted out just as quickly, yet none of it made it any better. If anything it felt infinitely worse hearing that!

“So what? You’ll marry us both? Have two spouses? When bigamy is against our beliefs and not possible!?” You began pulling yourself roughly from his grip on your arm, sloshing some wine over your glass and into the floor. You watched as Celegorm simply took a step back away from you, balling up his fist but keeping it at his side. You weren’t fearful that he would hurt you. 

You had enough arguments with him to know that he wouldn’t. Even now with him being an absolute idiot and having to actually be accountable for his shitty behavior as of late, Celegorm wouldn’t lay a finger on you. 

“Yes, I still plan on marrying you. It is a show! To get Thingol to bend to our will!” 

“How is that better!?” You asked suddenly, “How is that supposed to make me feel better!? When I am the only one you are supposed to be with!” This time your voice rang off the stone walls that surrounded you and you didn’t care who it was that might be passing by and hear you. You were fed up with whatever this sick and twisted plan was, all to try and get Thingol in their pocket. As they had not even attempted to make conversation with the King of Doriath even once. 

“We are going to be together!”

“No! I am not going to bend to this sick and twisted plan that you two have concocted!” You said to him angrily, because there wasn’t anything on Arda or Ea that was going to let you give into this plan. You wanted nothing to do with it at all. It was time for Celegorm to make a choice. 

“You have a choice Celegorm. It’s either me or it’s her.” You hiccuped out, bringing your glass up to sip as you took another step back from him. You could maybe forgive the things he said… Maybe make him apologize for it for the next 100 years and then some. You knew he would, as Celegorm could be impulsive and stupid. His words not yours. Often you didn’t let the excuse he created to be what you used to ignore his mistakes. 

You didn’t want to lose him, no matter how badly those words made your chest ache when you thought back on them. You wanted to make the exception because you feared what life was like without him… Then again you were ready to abandon this life for something new even if it was scary. You weren’t going to be tied to him while he was tied to Luthien forcibly. 

There was a tense silence, and for once you didn’t want to jump to conclusions about what it was he was thinking. You wanted him to be actually considering his options and the consequences they had. Specifically the hair-brained plan that he was going to marry Luthien and you. Or choosing Luthien over you. 

“Y/N.” Celegorm said in a calm voice, taking a step forward to be near you. It made your heart begin to pound with some hope. Looking up at him with a more soft expression, waiting for him to finish his words,

“I can’t choose. This must be done.” He answered in a surprisingly soft voice, and immediately your face soured. You had let your hope grow too immense, and now it was shattered. You felt the returning ache in your chest, the way your heart fell into the pit of your stomach. You were hurt that he wouldn’t choose you over this plan or over Luthien. 

“Fine. If you can’t make the choice then I will.” You answered him bitterly, 

“I’m done Celegorm. We are done.” You said, turning on the ball of your foot and making your way to the door. 

“Y/N!” He called out behind you, there was the slight sound of panic on his voice as you heard him start after you. But you didn’t stop. You were finished. If he wanted to go through with this plan, well then you would make it easy for him. You weren’t going to be tacked on so callously like an extra perk. You were supposed to be his spouse. Not Luthien. 

If you weren’t good enough for Celegorm now, then you knew you’d never be good enough. So with that you slammed the office door behind you. Only to hear the sound of glass shattering meet your ears.

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar​ @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87​ @anunexpectedsideblog​ @spidergirla5​ @eunoiaastralwings​ @eternalabysss​  @noldorinpainter​

#Celegorm #Tyelko #Tyelkormo #Turkafinwe #jrr tolkien #tolkien #the silm #the silmarillion #silm #silmarillion #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #one shot #one shots #headcanon #headcanons

[shrenvents]

She Does The Woods

Chapter six of the Miracle Aligner Series

Jennie's POV

My shaking body beats in rhythm with my pulse, while it grows numb to the cold. Though the Taxi had dropped me off around five minutes ago, my feet seemed to be frozen to the snow-covered earth. In the meantime, snow flurries have begun to build up along the surface of my coat and hood.

As if the nerves that kept me awake last night weren't enough, the driver had the radio on, which happened to be playing 'R U Mine?' by, you guessed it, the Arctic Monkeys. Honestly, my mind is far too possessed by anxiety to simply laugh at the irony of my predicament, as I should do. The impending urge to bring up Alex's "secret identity" is oozing. It's going to take a damn miracle to keep my loose lips shut, and with my luck, that's not likely.

Decidedly, I take an extensive, sharp, intake of breath before moving. Fortunately, the park was well-lit enough, so all my suspicions about murderous intent fizzled from my thoughts. Plucking my phone from my pocket, the screen instantly lights up, displaying how late I am: 5:11 pm. Along with the time, I also spy a text from Alex, sent only a minute prior.

5:10 p.m. Alex Alexander: Hey love, give me a call when you've arrived.

Strangely, his message dims the festering concern in my chest. Like there was a chance he would've stood me up, and that I would be disheartened by such a thing. Huffing a sigh, my eyes flutter closed momentarily as I march forward. While walking, I ring him. Immediately, Alex answers, and just as I open my mouth to speak, his relieved voice resounds through the speaker. "Thank god." I giggle softly.

"Afraid I wouldn't show Alex?" "Terrified Red." I laugh again, and I hear him chuckle faintly. "Who's to say I did?" I inquire with humour laced in my tone, humour Alex clearly didn't pick up on. "Are-- are you serious Jennie? I know I came on a bit strong but-"

The uproar of laughter I'd been suppressing explodes, promptly dulling Alex's panicked ramble. "That's not funny," he scolds. 

Then, I recognize his figure from a distance, head tilted towards his shoes, studying them with a smile decorating his face. I swoon, pausing my stride. "You think I'm funny Alexander, there's no need to lie." Observing Alex, I await his usual correction of his name, but it doesn't come. Instead, silence consumes the other end of the call, and my vision hones in on his peaceful expression. My heartbeat stumbles with an impactful thump. Get it together Jennie...

"Turn to your left handsome." His brows shoot into his forehead, creasing it. Swivelling his head, I savour the realization that adorns his features as he takes me in. His eyes roam my stationary frame, mouth agape before it closes. "Come here." That's all he says with a simple grin, and I take off. I start racing towards him. My little sprint obviously catches him off guard, and I nearly tackle him. However, his embrace captures my clinging body. I instinctively bury my face into his chest. Humming pleasantly, I breathe in his familiar, musky scent.

Though he was initially hesitant, thrown off by my spontaneous action, he quickly elevates his loose hug, to a firm, secure one, as though he's scared this isn't real, or that I'll slip away. I hate how endearing it is, how endearing he is. I really have lost it...

Slightly embarrassed, I slither out of his grip, and he reluctantly lets me. Our eyes lock as we move to an arm's length. His eyes then flicker to my lips and I press them to a thin line.

"I'm not sleeping with you in the woods." As soon as the sentence escapes my throat, the unnamed tension between us is lifted. "Didn't think you would."

"Or ever," I interject lamely, and his face immediately feigns confusion. "Again," I scramble out. "Sorry?" His brow rises, and a bitter smirk tugs one side of his mouth. "Uh, so, you got me here, no axe or chainsaw?" I rush to change the subject, which he notices but chooses to ignore. "Not on hand, no." He shakes his head at me, eyes wandering away from mine, peering into the dark skyline. I laugh pathetically, fidgeting with my hands, unnerved by his quietness.

After a moment, he shifts his gaze back to me, and I perk up right away. "I made us dinner." My brows furrow slightly, eyes trailing to his rising hand. He's holding up a basket with a shy smile. "There's a gazebo over there with a park bench underneath," he jerks his head to the right, "Sound alright to you Red?"

"As long as I live and breathe, it sounds great." His snort plasters a grin on my face. I follow closely behind him as he makes his way to the gazebo.

...

This "date" is going too well. At every turn, every new conversation, he makes me laugh, forget what I planned to say, everything I was apprehensive about. This is terrible. Everything wrong has become a fleeting memory. Except, that one revelation, still sitting at the tip of my tongue. Don't bring it up, in any way, shape, or form--

"So what do you do for a living." Shit.

"Thought you knew already." He swallows his last bite, a little too soon, and he audibly clears the lump in his throat. "Musican, or something... Right?" I mutter slowly, glancing between him and the surprisingly good meal he cooked. "Something like that, yes." He nods, shoulders tense. Is he trying to keep who he is a secret? Slightly disoriented, I grow quiet. He peers at me, eyes widening at my probably, very frightening expression. "What?" He gulps down another bite, and I lose it for real this time.

I spring to my feet, pause, drop my fork, and lean over the table to swat his arm repeatedly. He lets out a spurt of noises, mouth full, failing to convey his puzzlement.

"Some musician huh? Yeah right!" I shout, my voice cracking. "I may have been slow on the uptake, but I figured it out eventually, I'm not an idiot!" My verbal vomit shocks both of us, and I want to crawl out of my skin. But that doesn't seem to stop me.

"You're a freakin millionaire for Christ's sake! And I'm just-" I temporarily cut myself off before continuing my outburst. "Not like the money really matters to me! Unless you think it does? I'm not a gold-digger you asshole!" 

And with that, the crazy lady attempts to leave the scene. 

Rotating on my heel, I maneuver away from the picnic table but a hand clasps my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. I barely turn to look at Alex, till I discern his alarmed state. I'm completely mortified, but I know, deep down, I can't simply run away, not when he's looking at me like that.

"I'm sorry Jennie," he utters breathlessly. After a long beat, I nod. "Why didn't you say anything." "I'm not sure," his teeth dig into his bottom lip. "I guess, you just didn't seem all that interested in me in the first place," he sighs. "I didn't want to muck it up." I contemplate my reaction, simultaneously acknowledging his sullen expression. I ease a bit. "You know, from what I hear, telling a girl you're a rockstar to get them in bed, usually has a 100% success rate." I joke weakly. I imagine my smile isn't quite meeting my eyes.

Alex's pained stare makes me shudder. "I would never think of you as a gold-digger Jennie." Another shiver wretches through me. Why on earth is he taking me seriously? His attentive language and hold are invoking things in me I'd rather avoid. I shake my head. "I know," I pause, my voice dropping, "I think." I pause again, anxiously twisting my necklace's pendant with my free hand. "I'm sorry, I don't know where all that  came from." He furiously shakes his head in disagreement, but I continue anyway. "I'm so embarrassed, god, you must regret asking me out-"

"No, god no." I peel my eyes from his grasp to look up. He holds my gaze with an intense certainty, telling me, there's no room for opposition. "This is my fault, I shouldn't have withheld what I do from you as if it were a secret... I wasn't thinking." He huffs defeatedly, and a smoke of cool air visibly leaves his mouth.

"I hope you have it in your heart to forgive me, and finish dinner." He smiles sheepishly, gesturing back to the table. His face falls a little. "I'll tell you everything you want to know."

I look away from his desperate eyes, peering down at his grip on my wrist. The skin there has probably gone red from how tightly he's holding it. Noticing what has my attention, he releases my hand, apologizing once more. "It's okay. And yes, I'm still pretty hungry." We hold eye contact as I speak. "And the food's pretty good, I was scared you were gonna make some of that British crap." Alex's laughter erupts and I beam.

"British crap?" "Like spotted dick or something." He laughs harder. "Not on the first date." "Second then?" I raise a brow, not sure what I'm promising. His smile stretches. "If you'd like..." His laughter subsides as he mumbles.  "I think I would."

I watch as something he's most likely been keeping hidden flashes in his eyes. Something within him falters, but he shifts his eyes toward the sky before I can make out what it might be.

...

As the date went on, it got darker and darker, and with that, the winter was starting to creep up on us. Somehow I ended up sitting beside Alex, huddled close to his body. Shoulder to shoulder, he holds my hands in his palms, thumbs grazing the insides of them -- strictly to keep them warm of course. When our conversation slowly fades out, I didn't seem to mind, though, liking the silence didn't stop me from filling it.

"Ever jump into freezing water?" I question with a smirk. His thumbs stop their caress and press into my skin. "You're not jumping into the river," Alex states firmly. "Wasn't planning on it." I giggle. "Just asking." My head rises slightly with his soft exhale. "No." "Boring..."

"So I take it you have," he murmurs lowly. "No." His deep laugh bellows through the chilling air. "But if I did..." I trail off, unsure of what I'm planning to say. "I'd wish I was the water," Alex says, finishing for me. I didn't know what I expected him to say, but I didn't expect it to be so... Poetic.

A nervous laugh shakes my stomach, while my chest swarms with an unknown feeling. The silence once again crowds the atmosphere, but I'm not too fond of it this time. "Alex-"

Abruptly, my speech is cut short by Alex's palms releasing mine to cup my face. His palms lift my cheeks to brush our lips into a gentle kiss. He swallows my surprised moan, and I briefly see the passion in his expression. My lids bat shut, and I let him take me under, into the river.

chapter seven

#smut #alex turner #alex turner smut #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x oc #alex turner x reader #anakin skywalker smut #arctic monkeys smut #matt helders #alexturneredit #alex turner fanart #alexander turner #mileskane #tlsp #tlsp smut #the last shadow puppets #arctic monkeys x reader #romance #alex turner series #alex turner x y/n #fanfic #jamie cook #fluff

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober Day 24: Neglect

DAY 24! THE BRUISE ANGST IS HEREEEEEEEE! I'm so proud of how this one turned out, but it is definitely one of my more rambly pieces, and that's saying something for me. I am also eating chocolate chip cookies at 3 am and realizing that the chocolate chips taste a lot like m&ms and I hate m&ms. Anyway-

Taglist: @splinnters @abigailxoxo @tornoleander @mondothebombo @ghostwalloper @toastingpencils37 @lightning-chicken

Words: 2.3k

Tears dropped onto the crinkled sheet of paper, and Jay was quick to try and wipe them away before they could smudge. He didn’t have the energy to try and write this note again.

First Master, has it really only been two weeks?

The hole in his chest felt like it had been there for decades, growing and festering and burning with a longing that nothing could fill. Not anymore. It ate at him from the inside out, and Jay wondered how there was anything left of him at the end of each day. Sometimes, he thought about how every inhale must’ve just gone right through the hole, because he could never seem to catch his breath. He doubted that he ever would again.

She left him breathless in more ways than one.

Walking through the monastery was like walking through a crypt. His dufflebag thumped against his back with soft sounds, Jay trying to make as little noise as possible. The building, normally alive with energy and practically vibrating with their presence now lay silent; more than one person had died in this place. He wasn’t going to be the one to disturb it.

Jay ran his fingers along the walls, glancing at all of the scuffs and the burns and every mark that they managed to leave on this place. There was the dent in the wall from when they were trying to move in the new couch, and there was the scuff on the floor from when Zane froze it over and the team had a sledding competition indoors. Master Wu had been so mad at them, but that didn’t stop him from trying to join in.

But there wasn’t any of that anymore.

It had been far too long since he saw Kai. The last time he saw the fire ninja, it was with a packed duffle bag on his way out after declaring that he needed a break from everything, from all of them, but Jay knew the truth. His grief was loud, and the others couldn’t even go an hour without hearing it, and Jay could tell that they were getting sick of it, sick of him. Jay couldn’t say that he blamed Kai for leaving, because if he had to be around a crying and blubbering mess 24/7 then he would want out too.

Why did everyone always leave? Why was it always him?

He could handle one of his brothers leaving, but Jay thought that he had started to truly reach his breaking point when his little brother left too. At least Lloyd looked regretful as he did so, only silently showing the team the acceptance letter for his new job as a window washer. Jay didn’t shed any tears when Kai left, mostly because he knew that the red ninja wouldn’t have appreciated it, but he couldn’t stop them from falling when Lloyd walked down the stairs and didn’t look back.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

Zane shut his emotions off not even a day later, and Jay knew that he was part of the equation. The ice ninja had been one of Jay’s biggest support pillars, especially with Cole off and doing First Master knows what, but there was only so much emotional turmoil that Zane could take. Emotions were hard enough for him to process, but processing Jay’s on top of that? Jay should’ve known better.

Jay felt his brother’s absence now whenever he tried to confide in him, only met with a cold and biting indifference instead of Zane’s warm comforts. And the hole in his chest only grew even larger.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to no one in particular, fingers tracing over a group picture that they had taken years ago. Zane was smiling, and Jay hoped that one day his brother would be able to have his smile back. Maybe the emotion meter didn’t suppress him forever.

Pixal thought the same thing. She had faith that one day Zane would feel the urge to turn his emotions back on, to come back to them again, and she was perfectly content (at least on the surface) to wait until the other half of her heart was ready to be with them. Jay wished that he could share in her optimism, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Not when he lost his other half, and his dumb and stupid choices cost Pixal her other half too.

There was so much grief.

He didn’t blame Kai for leaving. He didn’t blame Lloyd for leaving either. But he did blame them for leaving him alone.

And the worst part? Jay blamed himself over everyone else.

Because the only constant in all of these equations was him. He had never been great at math in school, mostly just getting by with passing grades and enough know-how to make his engineering skills work, but he knew how to read the signs. And he was the only common denominator, which meant that he was the first thing to go.

Jay felt like he was stuck in a math problem trying to be solved by a young child; here the blue ninja was, the one puzzle piece that didn’t fit, and yet the child kept taking away all of the numbers that actually needed to be there. First, they divided his Yang by her own element, then they subtracted his brothers away to the other side of the equal sign. Zane was split in half for whatever reason, likely to try and mitigate Jay’s mere existence, and whatever child was playing with them couldn’t decide where to keep Cole switching from one side to the other and then the other. Jay himself was being divided into something smaller and smaller and smaller, and he didn’t think that he was going to get any of those parts of himself back.

First Master, was he really comparing his grief to a goddamn math equation? Was this how far he’d gone down the rabbit hole?

Maybe Kai was right. Maybe Jay was starting to lose it.

It was a good thing that this was going to be his last night in the monastery for a long time.

Opening the front door felt more like a death omen than anything else, but Jay couldn’t bring himself to care. His hoodie was heavy on his shoulders, and Jay took a deep breath of the chilly air to try and freeze his lungs. The map was in his bag, even though he knew the way to where he was going like the back of his hand. He made sure to memorize it all those years ago, just so that he wouldn’t fail her again. So much for that.

He put the note up on the wall next to the door with a spare pushpin, making sure that it wouldn’t fall before stepping back and shutting the door behind him as he walked onto the stairs. Here’s to hoping that it was legible enough for one of them to be able to read it; his handwriting tended to get worse whenever he was upset. At least it might be somewhat entertaining to try and piece together his goodbye like a Ceasar cipher.

Chuckling humorlessly, Jay stepped down, walking directly past the dragon statue in the middle of the courtyard. Maybe if Master Wu weren’t so caught up in all of his scrolls, then he would’ve noticed Kai and Lloyd’s absences. If he didn’t miss one of his prized pupils or even his own nephew, then why would he ever notice that Jay had gone missing? The problem child, the one who always had to be looked after.

The last stringer.

Not this time.

He refused to be the last man standing this time. Not when she wasn’t here to stand with him.

“Jay?” someone called, and Jay’s heart jumped into his chest. His brother wasn’t supposed to be home tonight; that was why the blue ninja chose to leave on this night and not during the day when he would actually be able to see.

Feeling like a deer in headlights, Jay turned around, well aware how suspicious it looked that he was dressed in simple jeans and a hoodie rather than his gi. Wu hated it whenever they walked around in anything but their gi in his presence. Cole looked his brother up and down, and Jay knew that he probably looked horrible. “Cole?”

Eyes narrowed, Cole stepped down the stairs and onto the stone floor, his boots heavy. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.” There. Keep it short, simple, sweet, everything that would keep the conviersation as contained as possible so he could scram before Wu or, heaven forbid, Pixal found out about what he was doing. Although Jay was pretty sure that Pixal already knew. “You weren’t supposed to be home tonight.”

“The stakeout fell through, and the police said that they would take care of it,” Cole explained, “were you planning this?”

He stayed quiet. Cole stepped forward, Jay trying and failing to hold back his tears as his brother snagged his arm. “Jay—”

Jay whipped around and crashed into Cole, locking him into a bearhug even though the blue ninja had to stand on his tiptoes to make it happen. Cole reciprocated, crushing his brother against his chest and burning his face in Jay’s curly hair. He inhaled the sweet scent of Jay’s shampoo, and Jay knew that Cole knew.

“You can’t leave too,” Cole whispered, grip tightening on Jay’s hoodie. Jay tucked his face into the corner of his brother’s neck, trying to ingrain the scent of warm earth and cinnamon in his mind. “What am I going to do without you?”

“I-I don’t know,” Jay admitted, “but I can’t stay here, Cole. I just…I just can’t. There’s too much of her here.”

“But doesn’t that make it better? To be surrounded by the people you love?” Cole was grasping at straws, trying anything that he could think of to convince Jay to stay. But both of them knew that once Jay made up his mind, he wasn’t backing down.

“Except I’m not,” Jay said, and he was regretting every word that was coming out of his mouth. Why didn’t he just walk away? “Lloyd and Kai are gone. Zane’s emotions, what made him him are gone, you and Wu are never around and Pixal is barely keeping it together. I-I can’t keep waking up in an empty house, Cole.”

“Wherever you’re going is just as empty, Jay.”

“At least at the lighthouse,” and he was surprised at how comfortable he was letting his destination slip; maybe it was because his mind realized subconsciously how close Jay was to giving up. Not just on everything else, but on himself, “I won’t have to worry about driving any of you away anymore.”

Cole lifted Jay off the ground, bringing back memories from when they were younger, before they ever had to fight and certainly before anyone had to die. “You could never drive me away.”

“I can’t take that chance, you know that. I need to leave.”

“No you don’t!” Jay could feel Cole’s tears starting to soak into his sweatshirt. “Jay, please, we can get you some help and we can figure this out—”

“There’s no figuring this out, Cole,” Jay sobbed. “She’s gone because of me. Kai and Lloyd both left because of me. Zane turned off his emotions because of me. I am the problem here, Cole, and I can’t stay here and keep being a burden to you and Pix.”

A large inhale. “I love you, Jay.”

Jay didn’t know if he could say it back. The last time he told one of his family members that he loved them, he never saw them again. She died. No matter how hard he tried to make the sounds, moving his jaw and bumbling like an idiot, Jay couldn’t form the words; he couldn’t remember ever feeling so ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

Cole just repeated it and held him tighter. Jay didn’t know how long this hug was going to last, but he wasn’t going to be the first one to let go.

His brother finally pulled back, and Jay noticed the black eye blossoming on Cole’s face. When did Cole get in a fight? How did he not notice it before? Reaching up, Jay tenderly brushed against it, making sure to be careful. Cole exhaled shakily, bending down and grabbing up the duffle bag that must’ve fallen off of Jay’s shoulder in the hug.

“If I let you go, you have to promise me something,” Cole said, his tone grave.

“What?”

A deep breath. “If you ever, ever, start feeling like you’re going to hurt yourself you call me or Zane immediately. That is an emergency. I will be there in a heartbeat. I’ve lost a lot over the years, Jay, and I will not lose you.”

There was a look in Cole’s eyes that Jay hadn’t seen in a long time. “I will.”

Jay hated that they both knew that it was a lie.

Handing him the duffle bag, Cole’s lip started wobbling; it was something that Jay hadn’t seen since they were still teenagers. He rubbed at his eyes, and Jay copied the action before turning on his heel. Jay knew that if he looked back now, he would never leave.

Why did this feel wrong?

Maybe he wasn’t the last man standing now, but who was going to take his place? Would it be Cole, or Zane, or Pixal? Was he really okay with damning them the same way he had been damned all those years, walking away from a burden that he knew how to carry when the others didn’t?

None of it mattered. It didn’t matter. Not anymore.

And Jay let the monastery doors slam shut behind him, metal crashing against metal with a shrill sound that made the hairs rise on the back of his neck. He started the trek down the stairs of the monastery, and he couldn't help but feel like he was starting to descend into the pits of hell as he went.

#ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago cole #finn's writing #whumptober day 24 #whumptober 2023

[reverie-starlight]

as an apology for not posting actual content for so long (I’ve been so stressed with job hunting and school things and poor mental health) here’s a little kuroo thought I had, that I will maybe expand on in the future in a full fic: 

(disclaimer: talks of poor mental health, he comforts you, lots of fluff from my boy bc it’s what I deserve. gn!reader)

he would take the absolute best care of you when you’re not feeling all mentally there, okay???

depressive episode and have a hard time taking care of yourself? he’s laying in bed with you and caressing your cheek, slowly coaxing you into taking a shower with him. he’s careful about making sure it doesn’t come off as shaming you for being unhygienic- he knows how hard it is for you to even feel things some days, let alone care enough to do basic self care. but that’s okay, that’s exactly why he’s there.

he’s so patient with you, slowly sitting you up and rubbing your back as you wipe your eyes, looking at him so pitifully, apologizing for being such a burden-

“hey, no, none of that. you’re not a burden to me. you deserve all the care and patience in the world, okay? i’m here for you, i love you. just let me help you, sweetheart.”

he gets you in the shower and takes on the responsibility of making it a pleasant experience- he’s humming your favourite song, scrubbing your arms with a loofa and making you crack a small smile when he tries to make you a bubble beard out of the suds. and then later, he’s kneeling in front of you, drying you with a soft, warm towel fresh out of the dryer, getting you into fresh clothes and carrying you to the kitchen for a hearty meal. even if you don’t feel up to eating it all, he’s fine with that. he just needs to know that you have food in your stomach. 

if you’re going through a patch of intense stress and anxiety that is just festering and not being released properly? also extremely patient. he will handle the rise in irritation like a champ, never holding it against you if you accidentally snap at him or get more intense than usual. he will remind you that he loves you and that it will pass. he will talk you through every panic attack you have, never judging you about what sets you off, even if it’s just the smallest inconvenience. and if what you were stressed about doesn’t end how you were hoping it would? he’s holding you as you finally let yourself break down and sob into his chest. he’s reminding you that he loves you no matter what, he doesn’t think that you’re a failure. he will stand with you until you’re able to get back on your feet, never once thinking anything less of you.

and let’s talk about the general affirmations he would give you throughout your entire relationship, yes, but especially when he knows you’re going through it. telling you how much he loves you, how fucking proud he is that you keep getting up every morning- he reminds you that your best right now is more than enough.

i just think he’d be so amazing and understanding with a s/o who struggles with their mental health and i need him to be here with me immediately.

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I fully wrote this for myself, because I have been going though it a lot lately, but if anyone reading this is also struggling, I hope better days are coming for us really soon. we’ve got this!! :)

#reverie rambles #character talks #kuroo has been on my brain I think it's safe to say he shares the top spot for atsumu now #back at the top where he belongs <3 #kuroo x reader fluff #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff