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#my prayers have been answered! she’s so pretty
uni-vee · 5 months
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[CN/LN] Nikki’s Birthday 2023
Come celebrate Nikki’s birthday! We are getting a Ruin themed suit this year (*≧∀≦*)
Suit: Neon Moment
Suit Details: New makeup, dress pose, face accessory, one sfx item, and 3 movable background items.
Time: Should be sent into mailboxes on 6 Dec!
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mysmuttyself · 1 month
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My care for you
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Rating: 18+
Summary: When Y/n's baking session is interrupted by the magnetic presence of Dean Winchester, their encounter in the kitchen heats up far beyond the oven's temperature.
Tags: Smut, p in v, kitchen sex, pure filth, improper use of pie, possessive Dean, dirty talk, established relationship,
Word count: 809
A/N: This is basically just me pining for Dean freacking Winchester. I baked i pie last week and i got inspired. Please be nice English is not my first language. Enjoy ;)
Everything was ready. The dough had been stored in the fridge to chill. Y/n expertly sliced the apples, the knife gliding through the fruit with practiced ease, she then drizzled them with lemon juice, before pouring the slices in a pan to simmer with sugar and cinnamon.
She was just adding the last touch, a sprinkle of nutmeg, when she felt two strong, calloused hands surround her just below the waist. His scent enveloped her, a combination of musk and amber, strong enough to weaken her knees.
"De" said Y/n in a plaintive tone. She had leaned his head against his solid, muscular chest. "Would you like me to finish this pie for you?"
Dean's lips curved into a playful smile against her neck. He continued to stroke the skin around her ribcage.
"I know baby, it's that you look so damn hot when you cook for me my favourite plate, so caring and sweet, good enough to eat."
He peppered kisses along her neck, and she melted in his arms.
As Dean continued to trail kisses down Y/n's neck, his hands moved lower, slipping under the hem of her shirt to caress the soft skin of her stomach. Y/n's breath hitched, a shiver of anticipation running through her as she leaned back into his touch.
"Dean," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper, "what about the pie? I could burn the filling"
Dean's smirk only widened as he murmured huskily, "Screw the pie, sweetheart. Right now, all I want to do is fill you up"
She just had the time to turn off the stove before he spun her around, pressing her against the kitchen counter with a hungry urgency. His lips crashed against hers in a heated kiss, tongues tangling as desire surged between them. Y/n moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she surrendered completely to him.
Dean's hands roamed eagerly over her body, pulling the fabric of her skirt up.
“Look at the mess you made baby, is this all for me?” He asked moving the dampening panties to the side to reveal her wet core. Y/n arched into his touch unable to answer, aching for more as he started to tease her, rocking his till clothed shaft against her wet folds.
"Dean," she gasped, her voice thick with need, "please..."
Her plea hung in the air like a silent prayer, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his response. Dean's darkened gaze met hers, a flicker of primal hunger flashing in his eyes as he leaned in close, his lips grazing her earlobe with a tantalizing whisper.
“Tell me what you need sweetheart” he breathed, his sultry low voice sent shivers down her spine.
“I need you, I need your cock” Y/n begged him. A primal growl rumbled from deep within Dean's chest. His desire for her burned hot and fierce, matching the intensity of her own need.
"Then you shall have me" Dean husked, in one swift motion, he freed himself from his clothing, his throbbing length springing eagerly into view. Y/n's breath caught in her throat at the sight. He was beautifully thick, if a cock could have been defined pretty, it was Dean’s.
Without a word, Dean positioned himself between her trembling thighs, his hands gripping her hips possessively as he guided himself to her slick entrance.
“Are gonna be a good girl? Take me nice and deep?” He asked her in a so very low tone.
“Yes, yes, Dean please” With a slow, torturous push, he entered her, the sensation of their bodies joining sending waves of pleasure coursing through them both
Y/n gasped as Dean filled her completely, every inch of him stretching and filling her in the most delicious way imaginable. She clung to him desperately, nails digging into his back as he began to move with a rhythm that was both primal and intoxicating.
With each thrust, Dean drove Y/n to the brink of ecstasy, his name falling from her lips in a breathless mantra of desire.
“Tell me that you are mine” His words, laden with desire and command.
"I'm yours, Dean," she gasped, her voice trembling with need. "All yours."
With each thrust, Dean claimed her as his own, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony. When Dean's calloused hand reached to stimulate her clit, it was too much for Y/n.
She exploded in a climax of lust, and Dean reached his own orgasm a couple of thrusts later, moaning her name.
They looked at each other for what seemed like endless seconds. Then he finally smiled and said, “Looks like we worked up an appetite” murmuring as he reached for the nearby apple pie filling. He sucked on his finger and then fed it to her.
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smooth-perceval · 4 months
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“Merry Christmas wherever you are.”
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: Reader attempts at soothing their child- and when all fails she calls the one man they both need.
Warnings: Self-Doubt, fluff, Google translate, Charles being cute, not every Christmassy… NO PROOF READ!!
Key: Y/N (your name) Y/L/N (your last name) Juliette (Yours and Charles kids name) Jules (her nickname)
Word count: 744
A/N: I’m sorry… I didn’t stick to my schedule I really have a bad timing issue- infact schedule issue. Sorryyyy! But to make up for it I got some good fics coming 👀
Or so I think are good. Also sorry this isn’t as Christmassy…
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I wanted to cry, I was on the verge of tears and crawling into a corner… Juliette had no way of settling- in fact she was practically screaming the house down.
The one thing I didn’t want to do was call for help- because I’m her mother I can do this… but yet I still found myself picking the phone up and dialling the one man I need right now.
“mon chéri? You okay?” (My darling) A panicked Charles picked up the line before the first ring, and if Juliette wasn’t screaming so loud I probably would’ve sat and twirled my hair at how cute he is.
As soon as I heard the words ‘you okay’ I bursted into tears along with our baby. “Charles I don’t know what to do… she won’t stop crying!” Taking heavy breaths I gently placed my hand onto of Juliette’s tummy trying to soothe her.
“Chérie… breathe- take some deep- just one minute.” (Darling) I heard him rustling around and a door click shut on the other end of the call, he must’ve had to run away from the team for my breakdown… gosh do I feel like the worst mother and partner…
“Let me FaceTime you-” sniffling I moved the phone away answering Charles FaceTime call.
“hé ma jolie fille…” (hey, my pretty girl), even though he was across the waters- seeing his face washed a sense of relief over me… and oddly enough Juliette’s cries got quieter slowly- crazy huh, her fathers voice is the answer to both our prayers.
“I’m so sorry… I know your busy- I just I don’t know what to do…” sniffling once again I looked down at Juliette who was also sniffling… eyes opening and closing slowly proving to me she is tired yet has been fighting it this whole time. “Family always comes first how many times do I tell you this.”
“I know I just feel like a terrible mother I can’t soothe my own child…” and now I’m setting off again, tears rolling down my cheeks- lip quivering. Which also to my expense set Juliette back off.
“Y/N you’re the most perfect mother- Our Juliette is so lucky to have such a perfect woman in her life. Now stop doubting yourself, okay?” Nodding slowly I wiped away my tears taking another deep breath. “show me our gorgeous girl.” Smiling a little I turned the camera so they can both see each other.
“Hé mon bébé!” (Hey my baby!)
And just like that she calmed back down again, her dad has that effect on us both I guess. “I’ll be home soon princesse.” (Princess)
The most adorable yawn escaped her tiny body, legs and arms both kicking up and down and the smile back on her face. “Now’s time for you to sleep Jules… no more crying. Go to sleep princesse.” (Princess)
My finger danced over her face delicately, and soon she was falling asleep. “bébé?” (Baby?)
Humming I turned the camera back around, relief washed all over my face. “I’ve got to go now mon amour… are you going to be okay?” (My love) Looking down at Jules who was practically in a slumber, eyes opening every now and then. I paused for a moment, before taking a deep breath and nodding at Charles. I’ve got this- I’m her Mother, I’ve got this.
“I’ll be okay… thank you.” Lying back on the bed I looked at the FaceTime, hand resting on Juliette’s belly once again. “Don’t thank me… I’m sorry I’m not home for Christmas, especially the first as a family.” Sighing he moved the screen closer to himself. “Just means we get two huh?” Smiling a little I leaned forward kissing the camera of my phone. “I love you Charles Leclerc, come home to us soon.” Smiling a little at him, his eyes seemed to well just a little, a small sight of tears. “As soon as I can mon chéri… I love you more.” (My darling)
Then the screen went off, and silence engulfed the room… Juliette’s soft snores were the only thing heard.
And when the silence becomes a soothing lullaby, and the twinkling of the Christmas decorations become a trace, I placed a gentle kiss to my fingers- waving it off into the air. “Merry Christmas, wherever you are.”
Little did me and Jules know- our favourite person was waiting on a flight home and would be here when we wake, our Christmas miracle.
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sky-is-the-limit · 7 months
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It's pretty simple, really. Don't get romantically involved with a fellow soldier. The task force is a unit, a second family. Any other relationship developing could create unnecessary, dangerous complications and you know damn well you cannot afford that. You worked hard to fit in, you worked hard to prove that you, a woman, can do as much as the next man in line for the job. Hell, in your case, even better.
"Weakness."
CW: F!reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick +18/NSFW/F!Masturbation
P.s I'm not a writer!
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Rules, rules, rules.
Your Captain's words ring in your head every time one of these unwanted thoughts creep into your mind. "One of the best sniper shooters I've ever got to work with." You're proud of your accomplishments, of your resilience and brain when it comes to work, always giving your best self to get the task done, to make sure you have your team's back, to never let anyone down and above all, yourself.
No one can be perfect though, right? Everyone has an Achilles' heel, a weakness strong enough to take the bravest man down, to make someone forget all the important attributes that make an obedient soldier and that's exactly what he was to you. A weakness. The name that answers to all your desires, a thought engraved permantently in your brain, never disappearing no matter how hard you've tried. And you have.
Countless nights when you had given in the advances of a drunken stranger, hoping that it will be enough to forget him, to get lost in the moment with someone whose name or face don't even matter. The only reason you let another man kiss you, taste you, touch body.. is so you can feel something real. Something that isn't your imagination where he's the only one always present.
The worst part of this? It's not just you indulging into this madness. Perhaps if it was one-sided, it'd be easier for you to bury it in the depths of your mind. Only allowing yourself to feel it late at night when you're alone in your bed, the only witness to your secret being your fingertips and his name leaving your mouth softly, like a desperate prayer for salvation. It's not just you though.
/ / /
"That blondie over there is practically undressing you with her eyes, Garrick."
There it is. That uncomfortable feeling in your stomach that makes you want to disappear from the surface of the earth. It happens every damn Friday when you and the boys hang out at the nearest pub. Always the same scenario, always a different girl, never you.
You should be used to it by now, and yet the way Soap nudges him to go over and leave with someone else tonight still stings. You want to punch that smirk off of Johnny's face but it's not his fault. You wish for that woman to fall on her ass, embarass herself but it's not her fault. You crave for him to finally snap, forget about the rules and drag you back to his car so he can fuck you with all that desperation that has been building up inside both of you. He won't though and it's not his fault.
"Nah, not my type mate." Any other woman would feel relieved to hear this. Hear the man she wants so badly turn down the chance to leave with a pretty girl for the night but not you. Maybe it'd be easier if you got to see him flirting with a stranger, his hand finding it's way to her waist, flirty whispers foreseeing a promising night between them.. Maybe something would crack, maybe jealousy would work it's trick and get you to stop thinking about him. Not Kyle though.
He spits out that sentence like it's no big deal, his piercing brown eyes staring into yours, never breaking eye contact as the words leave his mouth. If Soap wasn't so distracted, mumbling with frustrated jealousy that Gaz always gets the attention of the prettiest girls, he'd be able to see why he always turns them down.
He knows damn well what he's doing. Like there's an unspoken bet between the two of you, of who's gonna break first and he has to win it. The look in his eyes, confirming your suspicions that he also thinks of you when he's alone, the way his lips part slightly every time you stand up to go get another drink, the sight of your barely covered thighs right in front of him.
He wants you and that's the worst part. Just like every night, this one ends the same. With you two parting ways in the cold corridor, your only company his presence in your thoughts. At least his room being next to yours could mean that you fall asleep facing each other and that's adds some sense of comfort to your loneliness.
/ / /
Another sleepless night finds you alone in your sheets, the moonlight being the only thing illuminating your room as the soft sound of the rain pours down outside, reminding you that Autumn is finally here. It has become your habit, a lonely, desperate routine where you just lay there, thinking of him. Quite frankly, you don't even care that his room is right next to yours, that if the walls are thin enough maybe he can hear you touching yourself to the thought of him.
It's a deluded way to cope with all the desire filling up your body, feeling your core pulse and twitch as your fingertips find their way down to your clit and you wonder. How would his touch feel, how would he do it..
"Fuck, Gaz" a soft whine escapes your lips, your movements picking up the pace, making your hips back up and down against the bed, craving friction, craving him.
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick is a passionate man. Whether it's a mission, a workout, hanging out with his friends.. He always lives in the moment, full of energy and a tremendous thirst for adrenaline. Always so eager for action. There's no doubt in your mind that that's exactly how he'd do you.
"I need you, fuck-" You admit to yourself breathlessly, sucking on your own finger before slowly bringing it down to wet your nipple, sending a shiver down your spine as you drag your fingertips through your own slick arousal.
You're a mess. Suddenly the cool temperature of the room turns into unbearable heat, sweat dripping down from your forehead, hair messy against your pillow as you buck up your hips against your palm, biting down on your bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt to be quiet but as you get closer to your climax, you can't control it.
"Gaz-" Your mind travels back to earlier in the afternoon when you walked in on him working out at the gym, a pair of black shorts hanging low from his hips with a matching bandana on his forehead to keep the sweat from dripping down on his face. He caught you watching, your eyes were glued on his defined arms, occasionally wondering off to his chest then down to his abdomen. How can you not when he looks like that?
"Alright there, Y/L/N?" God, that smile will be the death of you, the sight of his fangs driving you insane that you can't help but wonder what they'd feel like sucking down on your neck. It'd be funny to think that you could ever scarcely deal with the attraction you feel towards him.
Suddenly it's hard to breathe, your thighs start to tremble whilst your fingers stroke your clit faster, you can feel it coming. God, his hands, his fingers.. The thought gets you to bring one finger back to your mouth, wetting it with the tip of your tongue. Would he do that? Stuff his fingers in your mouth while he's buried deep inside of you? A soft moan fell from your lips at the thought of it, pinching your nipple as your eyelids flutter to the sensation.
You're so lost in pleasure that you can barely hear the first knock on the door, thinking that it's your imagination playing tricks on you. The second one is louder making your hand jolt away from your thighs, a swell of embarrassment rising inside you.
"Shit." You mumble quietly before throwing on the oversized t-shirt that you normally sleep in before checking the clock on the wall. It's way too late for social calls unless it's an emergency. Another knock on the door snaps you out of it and without making sure that you're presentable, you open it.
"Gaz?" He doesn't look distressed, quite the opposite with his arms crossed over his chest, head titled to the side as he takes in the sight in front of him with the same smirk that makes your knees want to give in every time. So, no emergency then.
"It's late, what are you doing here?" You try your best to appear as if you were asleep, that would justify the-
"God, you're a mess Y/N." He may have his usual playful look on his face but his tone suggest something different. He's not teasing you for your state, not this time. It's like he's trying to catch his breath, eyes travelling down to your bare thighs and back to meet yours before he takes a step forward, leading to you taking one back.
"You're not as quiet as you think you are." Oh.
"I don't know what you're talking about." You mumble quietly, trying to avoid his gaze. Though your alone time was cut short before you could finish what you've started, the anticipation and thrill fill your body once again, like you never stopped touching yourself. This is what he does to you.
"Thing is, Y/N.." Kyle takes another step towards you, closing the door behind him without breaking eye contact like his life dependent on it.
"When you start a game.." His hand reaches out to caress your wrist softly before taking it into his hand, lips parted as his suggestive voice spreading a warm heat on your cheeks.
"Be brave enough to finish it."
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rinkkuma · 9 months
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୨୧ SUPER SHY
ft. sae itoshi
tags. highschool au, a bit of cussing, gn!reader, the word ‘pretty’ is used but i still believe they're gn, all fluff ! / author's note. based on the song, super shy by newjeans!! another no skip album from the newjeans girlies!!! :3 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. proofread, but i'm dumb and notice errors a month after i post something so </3 is he ooc? probably, but i love him so it doesn't matter
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“do you even think he even knows my name?” you pout as ask your long time best friend, mai, if she thinks sae itoshi, someone you've developed a tiny crush on, at least knows your name.
you've sat in front of him since the beginning of the school year in your math class, but never mustering up enough courage to talk to him. (you personally think you've “talked” to him when he asked you for a pencil, but mai thinks otherwise, “it only counts when you actually have a full on conversation with him.” she tells you.)
“hmm, typically i'd say yes because of how long we've been in school, but you haven't even talked to him. ever. so, no.” mai smirks, she's sure he knows your name because of attendance being taken verbally daily, but decides to tease you so you finally decide to talk to him.
“you know for a best friend, you're really great at reassuring me.” you sarcastically say as your dramatically lean back into your chair.
mai was actually great at comforting and reassuring people, but at this moment in time, she seems very annoyed that you haven't made any moves on sae and seems to be pushing you to more and more to everyday.
mai laughs before confidently saying, “i know!” with a flip to her hair.
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you have no idea if you're dreaming or not.
did you really just get paired up with the sae itoshi for the upcoming partner quiz?
did the gods finally answer your prayers every time there was a partner quiz to get paired up with him?
honestly, you could care less the reason. but you swear this is a dream and your heart started racing so fucking fast the moment your teacher said your's and sae's name in one sentence.
you swear you're about to pass out when sae gives you a small nod as he moves to the seat next to you so it's easier for the two of you to work together. wait—did he just give you a small smile too?
fuck him for being so pretty and smelling so good. it is so hard to concentrate on your review for the quiz while sitting next to him. you hope he doesn't see your side glances every few seconds and how your face is ever so slightly burning up.
“hey, you okay? you've barely done any problems..” sae suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence as he looks at your paper.
“yeah!” you nearly jump at his words and immediately sit up, composing yourself as best as you can before turning your attention to your practically blank paper.
sae chuckles before placing his paper on your desk for you to copy his work. who knew the genius (on the field and academically) would let someone copy his work?
“you're a mess,” he laughs, how dare he laugh at you and how dare he point out how flustered you were. “but you're cute, y/n.”
you swear you stop functioning.
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sae has been on your mind all the time after getting paired up with him. he even starts talking to you in class even after he's not required to. he's a little bolder than he gives off to be. maybe you're being delusional, but is he ever so slightly flirting with you?
but, nonetheless sae is actually a sweetheart and even starts hangs out with you at lunch, (and buys you lunch if you ever forget yours!) and walks you home from school.
“hey.” sae muttered as he plopped down next to you at the lunch table.
“hi.” you say, as you swallow a bite of your food. the food was actually his from home, but he insisted on giving you his and it would be fine and that he could just buy something from the cafeteria.
coincidentally, the cafeteria was selling something you didn't particularly enjoy, so you were grateful sae gave you his. but, still denying it at first about how you didn't want to take his because of how frequently he buys you lunch.
weird, you swear you're luck has increased like crazy ever since you started hanging out with sae, getting higher scores on tests, (he's been studying with you when you're having trouble on a unit) and getting things you've been talking about wanting for a while out of the blue. (he's the person you've been ranting about wanting these things and he secretly places them in your locker the next day)
hey, maybe he was a lucky charm. and he was stupidity handsome too. and he had the sweetest personality ever, and—
you feel that you only fall for him more everyday. you were so fucking shy around him at first, but now you feel comfortable around him, hell even at the level of comfortable-ness you feel with mai.
sae itoshi was odd, but he was special.
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it's been a while since you became friends with sae. summer was nearing and your relationship friendship is at an all time high.
one day though, sae asks you to meet up with him at a nearby park; a park that you enjoyed visiting while on walks, the flowers still somehow just as beautiful as when they first bloomed even as the heat reels in.
you throw on a cute outfit before heading out to meet sae. it wasn't strange that sae brought you to breathtakingly beautiful spots, but this one felt particularly special.
“hey.” sae greets in his stupidity smooth voice. he looks as handsome as ever, except his hair a little different which makes him look all the more handsome.
he's sitting on a bench under a flower tree that has lost a majority of its petals, somehow it still looks beautiful.
“hi.” you wave and smile before taking a seat next to him under the tree.
“so, why'd you bring me here today?” you know why, simply just sitting and talking was sae's favorite way to spend time with you, but something inside you urges you to ask.
“just the normal, i guess.” he shrugs, before ushering you to start talking about whatever was on your mind.
whenever it was gossip, something that has been bothering you, or a new show you started watching, sae loved listening to you talk. he looked at you with the most intense expression ever while you blabbed on about whatever, carefully listening to every word that comes out of your pretty mouth.
he isn't even listening anymore. something about you today that just.. makes him stop listening. you looked so fucking pretty today. don't get the wrong idea—he thought you looked pretty everyday, but something about you today that pushes him to finally say the words he's been dying to tell you for a while now.
“earth to sae—hey! are you even listening?” you call out to him, your voice snapping him out of the trance.
how long was he not responding to you? oh god, it seems like a quite a bit since you were touching his shoulder.
oh. you were touching his shoulder.
sae takes a deep breath before calming himself and averting his gaze back to you.
“be mine, idiot.” sae blurts. okay, he didn't mean to say idiot, but he knows you don't take it seriously, so he stares at you with his stupid pretty eyes, waiting for your response.
you are suddenly taken back to the emotions you felt when you first finally talked to sae—a flustered mess, shy as hell.
if anyone passed by they would've guessed you two were having a staring contest because of how long you were staring at each other in silence, either of you not seeming to blink.
you two stay in silence before you finally talk after what seemed like a century.
“what?” is all you manage to breathe out. not an ideal response, but hey, you need to absolutely be 100% you heard him right.
sae huffs before speaking again.
“you heard me. be mine. i'm tired of you not being mine.”
you feel so warm inside and you swear you're gonna pass out.
before you can say anything, sae gently pulls you close to him and kisses you. and holy shit, his lips are so so soft.
you can't help but melt into his kiss and touch, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in a little closer.
he pulls away smirking.
“guess that's a yes?” he knows the affect he has on you and you hate it.
“no.” you jokingly roll your eyes, knowing sae knows you don't mean it at all. your shyness—whenever it had been around him or someone else, sae had always thought it was so cute.
“you wish.” he chuckles, before pulling you into his chest.
your shyness wouldn't drive sae away. never in a million years.
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outerbankspov · 2 years
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Trouble in paradise (RC)
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Warning: cheating/ smut 18+/ heavy touching. Shower sex/ argument/ getting caught.
-
It was the way he would look at you at dinner that had you in this position, the way he would watch you take a bite of your food and watch the way your lips wrapped around the fork. It was the way he talked to you, the way he would touch you even with innocence. That all lead you to this very moment. Rafe Cameron’ your cousins boyfriend pinning you against the shower wall as he drills into you. The sounds you where making had you glad that not a single soul was home.
“Fuck. I’ve wanted you for so long.” He wraps one of his hands around your neck and leans in to give you a sloppy kiss. You whimper at the feeling of his dick hitting every possible spot to exist in you.
“You ever thought about me the same way I do? Bet you do, thinking about me while you touch that pretty pussy of yours hm?” Your eyes was shut and didn’t say a word until you felt a deep thrust. “Fuck.” You moan out and open your eyes.
“Answer me pumpkin. You touch yourself at the thought of me?” His voice was so deep and he was out of breath.
“Yes I think about you everyday with my hands between my legs whispering your name like it’s a good damm prayer. God your so sexy. Love you” you mumble the last sentence and he kisses you again but slowly as his movement slows down.
“Shit Y/N say that again.” He looks into your innocent eyes and could come at the sight of the way your looking at him.
“I love you.” Her pouty lips and big doe innocent eyes had him going. He nods and thrust into you hard until your decorating his back with scratches of your finger nails. “Love you Y/N. Fuck can I come in you.”
“Yesyesyesyes” she moans with her pouty lips and he rubbed her clit and she came hard with a cry. Shaking and trembling. Few more thrust and he’s coming deep inside of you. “Shit.” You guys breath for a minute before he lets you down. Feet touching the shower floor with week knees.
“This- this has to go on. Can’t stay away from you or that pussy.” He pushes the wet hair out of your face and away from your neck and kisses your lips. “You really love me?” He ask without pulling away from your kiss. “I do.” You smile and kisses him.
-
It has been non stop of you and Rafe for the past 3 months, fucking, talking, secret hang out, excuses to hang with one another. Your friends knew you where seeing someone as well as your cousin, she noticed how happy you seem and is happy for you. You just feel so guilty but can help yourself.
“So y/n! Tell me about this boy!” Your cousin breaks the silence as you where eating fruits at her Kitcen counter. You where over for dinner and to spend a night to have a REAL sleepover with your cousin. you told Rafe that this was a real sleepover and that you’ll be with her the whole night but Rafe doesn’t believe you. He knows that by the end of the night while his girlfriend is sound asleep that you’ll either be on your knees or wrapped around him.
“Uh? He’s some guy who I met at the supermarket.” (Liar)
“Oh that’s sound so tv show-is right?” You laugh and nod. “Yes very!” You look over at Rafe and he’s staring at you hard.
“So what’s this boy like Y/N?” Rafe ask and you glare at him.
“Oh now baby stop bullying her, Y/N you don’t need to spill your business out to him.” She leans up and kisses him lips. You exhale deeply and looked at Rafe. When they pull away you smile.
“Go on Y/N/N.” He begins.
“He’s a hot guy, hm?? Sometimes annoying but sweet and the sex is awesome” you smile at the thought.
“That seems like fun!” Your cousin looks down and you remember what Rafe told you. “I haven’t touched her since we made love Y/N.”
“Okay so how about we have some amazing dinner by you Marci”
“Yeah let’s.” She looks up at Rafe and you can feel the tension in the room rising.
.
“Okay this was so good I’ve never felt so full in my life” you take a sip of water and Rafe smirks at you. “You sure?” He speaks up and you almost chocked on your water.
“Marci he’s bullying me.” You look at her and she smiles lightly.
“Stop bullying her.” She looks at him and stands up. “I’m gonna do the dishes. Excuse me.” She grabs the plates and you stand up.
“Do you need help?” You offer. She looked down.
“Rafe can help! Relax” she blows a kiss at you and looks at Rafe with a stern look.
You sit down and hope for the best. That until you over here them trying to whisper but fail.
“It’s her isn’t it. Is she the reason why you haven’t touched me in 3 months?” She begins to cry.
“She’s the one who you’ve been smiling at your phone for? Not the boys hm?. God how can I be so blind”
“I- I don’t know what your talking about.” He lies.
“Stop lying god Rafe I’m tired of you lying. I see the way you guys look at each other. It’s the way you use to look at me in the very beginning before I even introduced her. God I was so scared for you two to meet, not because of her, because I know you would take one look at her and try to make her yours. She’s always been prettier, people would say how she was the pretty cousin while I’m the ugly one. That until I met you and felt better about myself but I always Knew that it wasn’t real because why would Rafe Cameron like someone like me. But I continued because I loved you. You’ve been screwing my cousin for 3 months Rafe. God I wonder how long you’ve thought about her.”
“Marci I’m so so sorry.” He begins but she cuts him off.
“I’m not done. Now I’m thinking when we use to have sex was it her you thoughts about when your eyes where closed or when I would blow you was it her you imagine sucking you off.”
“Marci no. Listen to me. What he had was real okay and I did loved you, really I really did but I- I’m sorry.”
You walk in and they stop talking. “Marci. I’m sorry, and I know my apology won’t change what happened And I feel sorry for everything. Im really sorry.” You begin to cry.
“Y/n 3 months. You where in my face and having sleep overs and bring good together just for what? To find out your hooking up with my boyfriend.”
“I should’ve told you and I’m sorry. I wanted to I did but I- I didn’t want to lose you or him because… I love you both.”
“Get out. Both of you please I need time.” You both leave and get into your car.
“I can’t leave you.” You mumble to him while your face is leaning on the wheel. “Drive to my house. Let’s just forget about it. I love you so much. So fucking in love with you.”
“I love you.” You kiss him and drove away.
A week later you get a text from your cousin and you run to Rafe, sitting in his lap on the bed you open your message to it saying “I found someone who’s actually gonna love me. Love you cousin. I forgive you” you look at Rafe and he smiles. “I’m glad she’s happy” you put your phone down and pulls him into a kiss. You both are happy.
(Man oh man.)
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sw33tsuccubus · 4 months
Text
when reader is a child of Poseidon
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Being a child:
people at camp are either afraid of you or love you. there’s no in between.
percy was avoided like the plague and then slowly became popular sooo
there are multiple aspects to Poseidon’s domain. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Sea God.” there are different powers you could inherit from him.
you could be in control of water, like percy. you could make toilets explode and bend a river to do your bidding. you could make yourself swim extra fast and you could talk to sea creatures.
you could control storms. you could control the wind during a storm, you could create hurricanes, you could create thunderstorms. Zeus would hate you, but who cares?
you could control the earth, causing earthquakes with sheer willpower. when you stomp, the earth rumbles a bit. you could crack the surface of the earth if you focused.
no matter what powers you inherit, you’re always able to breathe underwater and talk to horses. those are the main traits of your fathers children.
you have a smell of sea that just clings to you. you also heal when in water. your father is quite powerful.
Relations:
your father does his best to keep a decent relationship with you. he answers as many prayers as he needs to. he wouldn’t choose favorites between you and percy.
speaking of percy
you two bully each other about your habits. you make fun of his blue food, he’ll find something to poke fun at.
you two have an ongoing prank war. you once dyed his hair pink. he once put shaving cream in your shoes. it’s awful. sometimes you team up together to prank the Stoll brothers.
when you two team up during games, everyone’s scared. first off, you two are some of the strongest demigods at camp. second, you work so well together, almost like you speak telepathically.
tyson loves you. he finds out he not only has percy, but now you too!
he crafts you something, like he made percy his shield. it’ll be engraved with something related to you. maybe one of your favorite greek heroes, or what you look like during training. it looks neat.
the three of you all hang out with Mrs. O’Leary and it’s so fun. percy plays fetch with her and you chat with tyson while watching everything with a smile. the three of you team up against the hellhound to play tug of war and you always end up bruised and scraped. but it’s so fun!
Annabeth comes up with a name, like she has seaweed brain for percy. maybe kelp head or rain cloud or something related to your abilities.
Grover will hang out with you whenever. he’s usually busy with counsel duties, but he’ll make time for you. he likes walking through the woods with you and chatting about nature.
percy shows up wherever you live for your birthday if it isn’t during the summer. Sally is often behind him, bringing in a gift and giving you a nice hug. percy will pick you up and say something along the lines of ‘My baby sibling is growing up!’
the gift is normally blue candies or a pretty seashell. it’s very sweet.
Sally and your parent will talk about whatever while you and percy talk about what’s been going on at school while playing a video game on the television or playing some random board game.
if your birthday is during the summer, percy insists you hang out at the beach and have a picnic with Annabeth and Grover and any of your friends.
percy gets a blue cake from the pavilion and carries it to the lake where they all sing you happy birthday. some Hermes kid got their hands on candles so you could make a wish.
as new eras begin, percy grows more protective over you. he can’t lose anyone else.
you become friends with will while you’re left at camp while your brother takes off all the time. #1 best friends. some may call it a bromance
he makes sure you don’t do stupid stuff while also having fun with you. you go walking in the woods and he’s making sure you don’t scramble up a tree while also chasing you around.
you watch sunsets together and have little makeovers. you style each others hair (it’s really funny sometimes) and paint each others nails. you go to the archery range together, no matter how bad you are at it. you comfort him after a shift at the infirmary, and he’s there for you after you’re strained from your abilities.
you become a popular person at camp, but this time it’s not because you’re scary. it’s because you’re older and people realize you’re gonna look out for them all.
and also you’re the half sibling of Percy freaking Jackson, but whatever.
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vintagemulti · 4 months
Text
shards and splinters
parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader
desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.
warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx
a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x
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the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.
he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.
there was nothing you could have done, marc.
“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”
steven sighed, and went quiet.
“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”
marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.
he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.
steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.
are you going to wallow here forever?
marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.
“fuck off.”
khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.
“fuck off.” he repeated.
and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?
“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”
khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?
“no.”
perhaps you should.
marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.
“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”
if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.
and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.
she’s alive?
“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”
his eyes slipped into the back of his head.
steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.
-
“this feels so fucking weird.”
you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.
i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.
you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.
you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.
“where is he?”
it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.
humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.
what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.
harrow was less than two feet away from you.
swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.
but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.
the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.
it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?
apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.
this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.
his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.
you could slither away too, though.
still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.
as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.
we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.
nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.
this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.
perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.
your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.
“what is harrow’s plan?”
he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.
“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.
he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.
you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”
hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.
for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.
why did you marry him?
it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.
“what?”
marc. why did you marry him?
you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.
i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.
“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”
and?
“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”
the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.
“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”
he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?
“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.
he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.
i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”
you regret it?
“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.
oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.
it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”
didn’t it take a while to get used to?
the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.
“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.
he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”
hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.
“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.
i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.
“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.
take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.
you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”
you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?
“no.”
then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.
you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.
“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”
a beat. hathor didn’t reply.
“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”
you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.
“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.
he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”
tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.
“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.
and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”
why did you hate him?
you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.
and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.
he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.
but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.
and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”
hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.
you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.
her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”
hathor shook her head. you are a human being.
there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.
hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.
is now a bad time, human?
you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”
what do i want? there’s a long list.
even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”
hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.
the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.
i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.
just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.
your heart stopped.
marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…
“y/n!”
just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.
“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.
you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.
he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.
marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.
“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”
“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”
he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.
“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”
barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.
it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.
but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.
if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.
“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.
“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”
he blinked. a beat.
“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”
“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”
steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”
he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.
“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”
-
you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.
but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.
you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.
but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.
it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.
the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.
he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.
‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.
it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;
it wasn’t you.
well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.
you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.
trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.
and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.
so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.
what a lovely shopping list, you thought.
-
it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.
with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.
the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.
of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.
no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.
a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.
the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.
“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”
beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.
oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?
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baileypie-writes · 4 months
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Hiii! I love your Velvet and Veneer writings, especially the ones with a younger sibling! Could you possibly do one with a 15-16 sibling who they’ve not seen in a long time due to their career, but once they do they realize the sibling is one of their musical techno rivals?
A/N ~ Sure! Hope you enjoy!
~Unknown Sibling Rivalry~
Velvet and Veneer + Musician!Younger Sibling!Reader
Random: Trolls 3: Band Together
Relationship: Familial
Synopsis: When Velvet and Veneer got to see you for the first time in a while, they were not expecting to also meet their rival.
Warnings: Rivalry, minor swearing
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Oh gosh. How were you gonna tell them?
You’re the younger sibling of the famous pop stars, Velvet and Veneer. You always looked up to them, ever since you were a kid. So, you decided to make your own music, just like them.
You thought your techno songs wouldn’t get noticed, but to your surprise, your latest few songs were always on the top spots on the charts. Either behind or in front of your siblings’s.
At first, you were excited to share the news with them, but it became clear that they saw you as a rival. You planned on hiding it from them, but as you were on your way to visit them, you realized that might be more difficult than expected.
~~~~
Their house was… big. Way bigger than you expected. You knew they were rich, but damn.
Velvet and Veneer led you to the living room. The TV was on, and was playing a channel about trending music.
“Once again, (your music alias)’s new song is at the top of the charts! And Velvet and Veneer’s song is right behind them!” The reported stated.
Velvet scoffed. “Again? Really? Their music isn’t even that good…” You felt your heart crack, but kept your neutral expression up.
“Oh c’mon Velvet, I know you listen to their stuff all the time. Their music is pretty good. I mean, they are our rival after all.” Veneer said. You couldn’t help but smile.
“What’s so funny (name)?” Velvet asked.
“Nothing, I just can’t believe that you like my stuff.”
Shit.
You slapped your hand over your mouth. You turned towards the twins slowly, hoping that they somehow didn’t hear what you just said. There expressions proved that your prayers were not answered. Their eyes were wide, unblinking. And their mouths hung open.
“I’m sorry… what?” Velvet finally spoke after a good seven seconds.
“Hehehe… surprise?” You gave a subtle jazz hands movement, hoping to lighten the mood.
“You’re (your music alias)?!” Veneer said, pointing to the TV, which was discussing your success. You just nodded, cringing. The twins looked at each other in disbelief, then back at you. Then Veneer’s expression changed to one of pure excitement.
“No way! That’s so cool! I had no idea you were so talented! Great job (name)!” He caged his arm around your head, and gave you a noogie. You laughed, trying to wiggle out of his chokehold. But then, his knuckles stopped the painful grinding on your head, and he let out a dramatic gasp.
“Wait a minute. That means that you’ve been stealing our number one spot! How could you!” He puts his hand over his heart, acting way more offended than he actually was.
“Yeah! How could you do that?” Velvet chimed in. She seemed more genuinely upset, but still quite a bit proud.
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry guys. I really didn’t expect my music to get so much attention. It just sorta happened.” You stared down at your shoes, as if you were being scolded by your parents.
Velvet huffed. “Well, I guess we’re gonna have to do better next time.” Veneer nodded at her statement.
You looked back up at them. “Next time?”
“Yeah, you’re our rival, aren’t you? So that means we have to do everything we can to beat you!” Velvet said, giving your shoulder a playful jab.
You laughed. “Well good luck. You’re gonna need it, because I’m planning on continuing my winning streak!”
The twins smirked at each other, before caging you in both their arms, and giving your head more noogies.
And thus sparked the start of a colorful sibling rivalry.
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~~baileypie-writes
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chelseachilly · 5 months
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do you want to build a snowman?
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pairing: reader x ben chilwell request: "ok so you and ben have a daughter around 3 or 4 and its her first time seeing snow so they take her outside to build a snowman :)" - anonymous warnings: fluffff, dad!ben word count: 2k
author’s note: thanks for all the requests!! i'm really getting in the flow of writing rn (and inspired by the holidays) so i'm going to do my best to write as many of them as i can! ❄️
-
“Is Daddy gonna be home soon?”
It’s not the first - or the second, or the fifth - time your daughter has asked this question since she woke up this morning. 
Ben left for training shortly before 8, and neither you nor your daughter Sophie were awake yet. You could’ve happily slept a few more hours, but Sophie woke you up not long after to excitedly announce that it had snowed overnight.
In her four years of life, your daughter has never seen a significant amount of snow, at least that she can recall. It snowed quite a bit on her first Christmas, but she was far too little to remember that, and since then there’s been nothing but a few flurries here and there or a light dusting on the rooftops.
She’s quite fascinated by the concept from watching movies and TV shows featuring winter activities and is currently deep in a Frozen phase, which means she’s obsessed with the idea of building a snowman. 
Over the past month as the weather got colder, you and Ben had tried to keep her expectations low as you weren’t sure you would get enough snow to make this dream a reality. You could tell it was killing Ben to disappoint her - he hates denying his little girl anything - and a few nights ago you caught him looking into booking a holiday to Switzerland or Finland or anywhere she would be guaranteed some snow.
Thankfully, today her prayers were answered, and you were fully prepared to bundle up and go outside with her before you even had your coffee, but she insisted on waiting for Ben. It was their plan to build the snowman together, Sophie told you, and she stuck to her decision even when you reminded her he wouldn’t be home for hours.
It‘s been pretty adorable watching her anxiously await her dad’s return all morning, pacing around the house and checking for his car in the driveway often. You can tell how badly she wants to go out and play in the glistening white snow, and the remarkable restraint she’s showing is a testament to how much of a daddy’s girl she is. 
“Not too much longer, sweetheart,” you assure her as you beckon her to come cuddle with you on the couch where you’re doing a bit of work on your laptop. “He texted a while ago and said he’ll be here as soon as he can.”
“Alright,” Sophie sighs. “Can you put on Frozen?”
You’ve watched this movie more times than you can count lately, and once already today, but you remind yourself that you signed up for this when you chose to be a parent as you’re queuing up Disney Plus once again. 
Later, when you’re nearing the end of the film and you’ve given up on doing any more work as long as your daughter is screaming the lyrics to each song, you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. 
“Daddy!”
The movie is quickly abandoned as Sophie darts toward the foyer to greet Ben. You’re not too far behind her, though by the time you reach them she’s already in her dad’s arms.
“Daddy, it snowed!” Sophie exclaims, her little arms wrapped around Ben’s neck. “We have to build a snowman!”
“I know, darling,” Ben laughs, giving Sophie another squeeze before gently setting her down. “Why don’t you go get your coat on while I say hello to Mummy?”
Sophie nods and eagerly runs toward the closet to fetch her winter coat. As Ben drops his bag and makes his way over to you, you can see how tired he is from training. When he cups your face to give you a kiss, you can tell he’s also freezing. 
“How was training, baby?” you murmur, placing your hands on his to warm them up. 
“Cold,” Ben sighs. “Forgot how brutal it is training in the snow. I’m glad the gaffer let us go home early, though.”
“You and me both,” you smile, leaning in to kiss him again. “Maybe you should warm up a bit before going out to play with Soph?”
“No, she’s been waiting for me all day,” Ben says. “I’ll be fine.”
You know there’s no changing his mind, especially when Sophie comes running back into the room in her adorable little puffer jacket that nearly swallows her whole. You help her zip it up and grab mittens, a scarf and a hat to keep her warm, as well as some for you and Ben. 
Once you’re all ready to face the cold, you head out to the garden together. You and Ben have matching grins on your faces as you watch Sophie excitedly run through the snow for the first time, a core childhood memory being created right before your eyes. 
She gets to work right away on her snowman, rolling the snowball she’s formed as long as she can before it gets too heavy for her and she has to accept Ben’s help. 
You join in on their efforts, occasionally taking a break to take some photos of your daughter and husband that you already know are going to be your new phone background.
After some hard work - certainly for a four year old - the snowman is completed with a carrot nose and hat that you had prepared just for this occasion. 
“He looks great, Sophie!” you exclaim. “What’s his name? Olaf?”
Despite it being a fairly safe guess, Sophie looks at you like you have two heads.
“No, Mummy, Olaf doesn’t have a hat,” she reminds you very matter-of-factly. “His name is Tom.”
“Like Uncle Tom?” Ben chuckles, referring to his best friend and her godfather.
Sophie seems to contemplate this for a moment before shaking her head.
“No, because I want him to be Tom.”
You and Ben look at each other for a moment before bursting out into laughter. You both blame your daughter’s stubbornness on each other, though deep down you know it’s from both of you, but at times like this it’s both hilarious and adorable. 
“Fair enough, sweetie,” you say, bending down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Now, I think some hot chocolate is in order. Ready to go in?”
“No, we have to make snow angels!”
Of course, this was another activity she had seen in films that she was dying to try for herself. 
“Alright,” you chuckle. “Why don’t we make snow angels while Daddy goes and warms up? He’s been out in the snow all day.”
The pout on Sophie’s face quickly tells you that she is not happy with this plan, and Ben swoops in before you can say anything else.
“I think I have a few snow angels left in me,” he smiles, picking Sophie up and balancing her on his hip. “Babe, can you start the hot chocolate while we finish up here?”
You raise an eyebrow at your husband but accept his proposal nonetheless, placing a quick kiss on both his and Sophie’s cheeks before heading inside. 
As you’re warming up the milk on the stovetop, you look out the window where Ben and Sophie are still playing, her excited giggles loud enough that you can hear her through the windowpane. 
Your heart is threatening to burst from the sweet scene, overflowing with love for your daughter and admiration for your amazing husband. No matter how tired he is from training, if he’s upset about a loss or injured or anything else, he always steps up for Sophie. You’ve known since you met him that he would be a great dad, but ever since you became parents, he’s continued to exceed your expectations.
Just as you’re pouring three steaming mugs of hot chocolate, you hear your family come in through the back door and begin to strip off their winter gear. 
To your delight, Sophie runs straight into the kitchen and hugs you tightly.
“I made five snow angels!” she exclaims as you run your hand up and down her back in an effort to warm her up. “Daddy made some big ones, too.”
“That’s amazing, love,” you smile, kissing her head. “You want some hot chocolate?”
“Yes! Can I put the marshmallows in?”
“Of course,” you say, lifting her up onto the counter and passing her the bag of mini marshmallows.
As much as she’s a daddy’s girl at heart, you also get your fair share of moments when your daughter seems to only want her mother. You know how special her bond is with Ben, and you really can’t blame her for how much she loves spending time with him, but you still cherish the little things that just for the two of you - making hot chocolate with extra marshmallows being one of them. 
You carry the tray of drinks into the living room with Sophie trailing behind, and find Ben already there getting the fireplace going and arranging some pillows and blankets.
“This looks cozy,” you smile, setting the drinks down and sitting on the floor across from him, Sophie following your lead. “Thanks, honey.”
“Thanks for making the hot chocolate, my loves,” Ben responds, glancing over at the tray that holds two regular Christmas mugs and one with the Frozen characters on it. He picks that one up and pretends to take a sip. “I assume this one is mine?”
“No, Daddy, that’s mine!” Sophie squeals, making both you and Ben laugh as he carefully passes it back to her. 
You all sip your drinks in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of the sweet beverages and the burning fire. 
“So, did you enjoy your first snow, Soph?” Ben asks. “Was it everything you hoped?”
“It was amazing!” Sophie confirms. “Thank you for playing, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, angel,” Ben says with a soft smile as Sophie climbs into his lap and he kisses her rosy cheeks. 
It’s not long before she drifts off to sleep, tuckered out from playing in the snow and comforted by her dad’s embrace and the sound of you and Ben quietly talking about your days. 
Once she’s fully passed out, Ben carefully shifts her tiny frame over in his arms to make room for you on his other side and beckons you over. With him laying back against the sofa and you now laying against his chest, both of you watching your daughter sleep peacefully, you’re not sure you’ve ever felt more content. 
“That little girl absolutely adores you,” you comment, nuzzling further into Ben’s warmth.
“She must get that from her mum, then,” Ben jokes, making you roll your eyes for a moment before kissing his jaw, then his cheek.
“Mhm,” you nod, smiling as you reach his lips and kiss him slowly. 
When you pull back, Ben gazes lovingly at you for a moment before his eyes return to Sophie, her little hand curling around the material of his hoodie in her sleep.
“Babe?” Ben murmurs, and you nod again. “How would you feel about trying for another one?”
It takes everything in you not to betray yourself with a grin as you think about the tiny Christmas onesie and pregnancy test you boxed up and placed under the tree yesterday while Ben was picking Sophie up from daycare. 
It’s less than a week until Christmas - you can make it that long. 
“Let’s talk about it after the holidays?” you say for now, pressing another kiss to Ben’s lips. 
He nods with a smile, though you can see his mind wandering with thoughts of another little one to play in the snow and curl up by the fire and watching the same movies over and over with. 
It’s been the greatest joy of your life raising Sophie side by side with him, and you absolutely can’t wait to do it all again. 
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vampirecorleone · 9 months
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"I was pregnant with your baby. I never wanted to be a mother. I loathed the feeling of it growing inside me. Felt that sickness. Pulling, sucking on me like some needy animal in a barn. How could I be responsible for another life? Life terrifies me. It's harsh, and bleak, and draining. I was so relieved when it died. It was one less weight keeping me here but then the war came and you left me too. Why did you leave me, Howard? I hate feeling like this. It's so pathetic. Do people like you ever feel this way? Figure you don't... you seem so perfect all the time. Lord must have been generous to you. He never answers any of my prayers. I don't know why. What did I do? What is wrong with me? Please just tell me so I can get better. I don't wanna end up like Mama I wanna be dancing up on the screen like the pretty girls in the pictures. I want what they have so badly... to be perfect... to be loved by as many people as possible to make up for all my time spent suffering. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and a fear washes over me 'cause what if this is it? What if this is right where I belong? I'm a failure. I'm not pretty, or naturally pleasant, or friendly. I'm not smart, or funny, or confident. I'm exactly what Mama said I was: weak. But I don't know why. What did I do? Why wasn't my family like yours? I hate what it feels like to be me and not you. I'm so scared that when you finally come home you'll see me and be frightened like everyone else is. I know what I've done. Bad things. Terrible, awful, murderous things. I regret them now, but I liked how they felt. I wish I didn't, but I did. At first, it was only animals smaller than myself. Nothing with feelings, nothing that could hurt me back. Felt good. Killing's easier than you'd think. 'Til recently with Mama and the boy from the picture house - they were different. They were more meaningful. I hurt them so they too might know what it feels like to suffer, but poor Daddy didn't deserve that. I wish I hadn't done what I did. Mama meant well. She had a hard life. She only wanted a home to feel safe in, I can see that. I thought I hated her, but I just wanted to feel safe too. My Lord. I made such a mess of things. I don't know how much more I can take. I need to clean this up. All of it. I need to make things right before you see me again. Maybe if I could turn this farm into a home just like you wanted, things will finally be different. I can forgive. I can be who you want me to be. If you'll just stay with me. Would you do that, please? I can't be all by myself anymore. It's too hard."
Pearl (2022) dir. Ti West
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camilleonne · 7 months
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Trying to work out Gale age+ timeline, plus analysis
BG3 is my first introduction to the DnD lore, so this is really just me trying to work out where the BG3 story fits into the broader timeline of DnD. All of this information I got from the Forgotten Realms wiki, so if I'm misunderstanding anything I'd love input!
My goal with this is to guess how Gale's personal story fits into the timeline of the Forgotten Realms, mainly to estimate how old he might be and how long his relationship with Mystra was. According to the Wiki, Mystra was only recently resurrected, which means her relationship with Gale is very restricted in how long it could have been.
Here's Mystra's timeline:
1385 - Mystra dies, the Weave becomes unstable, magic changes, and the Spellplague begins
1395 - the Spellplague mostly ends, but the Weave is still unstable and Mystra is still dead
1479/1480 - Mystra returns with help from Elminster, magic starts to go back to normal
1482 - the Second Sundering begins, which aims to reorder the hierarchy of gods
1484 - gods begin acquiring Chosen mortals in order to cement their power
1487 - Mystra returns to her full power, the Weave is finally restored, and the Second Sundering ends
1488 - prayers to deities are ignored, and instead divine missives are directed through deities' Chosen
1489 - prayers begin to be answered again, while Chosen's powers and gifts are revoked by their patron gods, since they no longer serve a use to their gods. Only a few Chosen retain their powers.
1490 - nothing of note happens, according to the Wiki
1491 - Mystra restricts mind-reading magic. Otherwise, nothing of note happens pertaining to Mystra
1492 - the plot of Baldur's Gate 3 happens
If I understand this timeline correctly, the earliest Mystra could have begun interacting with Gale is the year 1480. But because this is when she had only just been resurrected, this is likely when she began to "mentor" him, and not when their romantic relationship began.
It was probably sometime between 1482-84 that Gale became Chosen and his romance with Mystra began. And if Gale was also one of the many Chosen who were cast aside by their gods in 1489, simply because he was no longer useful, then their romantic relationship would have lasted 9-10 years at most, but more likely was 7-8 years. But still! Nearly a decade of having a close relationship with your patron deity is hugely influential on someone's personality and outlook on life, and definitely explains where a lot of Gale's arrogance and hubris come from.
1480-82 - earliest possible time frame Mystra could have begun interacting with Gale
1482-84 - likely when Gale is Chosen, and the earliest their romance could have started
1489 - Gale likely loses his status as Chosen, and with it his extra powers gifted to him by Mystra. He would have been cast aside for no reason other than he was no longer useful to Mystra. This likely happened with little to no explanation from Mystra, forcing Gale to guess as to why he had been cast aside by his god and lover
1490 - this is likely the year that Gale searches for the "missing Weave" and takes the orb into himself, destroying his innate magical gifts and leaving him weakened and dying
1491 - Gale isolates himself in his tower for a year, depressed and heartbroken
1492 - BG3 plot occurs. One way or another, Gale comes to terms with his relationship with Mystra and manages to remove the Karsite Weave from himself
Gale mentions something about being called "delusional" by his professors when he graduated from wizard college (or whatever it's called). My guess/headcanon is that Gale would have graduated wizard school before Mystra began to mentor him. So he'd be, at the youngest, 21 when she initiates contact with Gale. Gale mentions that he'd been in relationships before Mystra, but that she was his longest partner, and 21 fits that backstory pretty well. This means that Gale is either 30 or 31, at the youngest, when Mystra casts him aside. This puts Gale at approximately 33-35 years old when BG3 occurs.
Another important thing is that, at least from Gale's perspective, he was cast aside by Mystra suddenly and without explanation. This left him having to guess why he was no longer one of her Chosen, which is what motivated him to win back her favor. Unfortunately, by trying to win her back, Gale took in the Karsite Weave, which ate away at his innate magical abilities and left him even weaker than he had ever been before.
Something that sticks out to me about this timeline is what Mystra says to Gale when he's finally able to confront her. She says to him something to the effect of "I would have made you my Chosen again, you just needed to be patient. But because you were impatient, you will never be my Chosen again". Likely the key difference between Elminster and Gale as both being powerful wizards devoted to Mystra is that Elminster understands that Mystra is a goddess, and should be treated with a sort of awe. If she does something that he doesn't understand, he just defers to her judgement as a goddess. But since Gale was in love with her, he treated their relationship like one between mortals, not that between a deity and their faithful. Gale's main folly is that he was in love with Mystra, while she was just using him as a pawn to consolidate her power. She probably wasn't lying to him about him being gifted, and probably would have made him Chosen again when it suited her, but Gale wanted more and couldn't stand the lack of communication, and so those powers were revoked from him.
It's really sad because Gale wanted real love, and wanted to be treated as an equal to Mystra. In a normal, human relationship, begin treated equally by your partner is a normal expectation. But because Mystra is a god and would never acquiesce her power, especially after only very recently regaining full control of it, Gale was doomed to be heartbroken. Also, the fact that Mystra cast Gale aside without telling him why, then didn't warn him that the Weave he found was deadly and would kill him, and then didn't tell him how to fix it, and then told him to kill himself to apologize, then ONLY tells him the truth of the situation after he starts to threaten her power, is super shitty. Can you blame him for any of it when he was literally ghosted by his goddess/girlfriend of 10 years?
The fact that Mystra is one of the "good" gods and can't even be bothered to treat one of her Chosen with decent respect, after manipulating him for his entire adult life, is super messed up. It really ties into the subthemes of BG3 about gods and how they just... really don't give a shit about their followers. Even the "good" ones still only really care about their power and protecting their interests. Like obviously Shar and Vlaakith are evil and treat their followers like shit, but the fact that Mystra does essentially the same thing with zero remorse, and then also blames Gale for all of it and forces him to beg her for forgiveness, is... sad.
And that's why Gale is a sweetheart and deserves all the love. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
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plistommy · 1 month
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What do you think about omega!Steve who has a big falling out with his parents and moves in with his asshole, working class boyfriend who's gonna ruin his life (according to Steve's parents)- but meanwhile Steve and Billy are happily decorating their trailer and fucking like bunnies and talking about having kids once they've saved up some money. And once every couple of weeks Steve comes across his parents at the store or on the street and he just always looks soo happy🤭
”Oh my god, put it in already!” Steve whined as he arched his back, presenting himself to his alpha who was hurriedly opening his belt buckle after getting home from work.
Steve had been waiting for his boyfriend for hours, decorating their newly shared trailer cute and homey with their stuff. He still couldn’t believe he was actually away from his awful parents and living with Billy. His alpha.
He had gotten horny after he had tried to take a little nap, but smelled his alphas scent on their messy bed from the night before instead and soon enough he was fingering himself.
It was like his prayers were answered because he heard the door open and Billy’s heavy scent filled the place.
And now he was here, begging for the other’s knot as Billy finally got his dick out and pushed it into his waiting hole with one smooth thrust.
”Y-yes! Alphaaaa!” Steve’s eyes rolled back into his head as Billy started a brutal pace, grabbing the omega’s thick ass.
”Fuck, baby, was thinking about fucking you the whole day. Missed you, missed this ass…” Billy purred as he threw his head back, blond curls sticking to the back of his neck.
Billy slapped Steve’s ass, loving the way it jiggled whenever he thrusted in and out of the other’s perfect body.
”Ohmy…goddd, Billy! Breed me!” Steve cried, droll dripping to their covers as he couldn’t help how his tongue rolled out.
”Oh fuck fuck fuck!” The alpha cursed as he picked up the pace, moving his strong arms around Steve’s waist to get him closer, to get his dick deeper into the other’s tight body.
The knot started to tug into the omegas hole, making them both moan desperately and soon enough, it popped and filled the omega full.
Steve loved how it felt.
”Shit, Baby, you’re perfect.” Billy moaned, coming to kiss his omegas perfect lips as their bodies were tied now.
”Uh-huh…” was all Steve could get out and it made his alpha chuckle. He felt soft kisses on the back of his neck and soon teeth on his mating mark.
It made him shudder.
They laid there for a while, both coming down from their highs as they cuddled closely.
”How was work?” Steve got out and his hoarse voice got them both laughing.
”Good, pretty boy. But not as good as coming home to my beautiful omega.”
Steve blushed and rolled his eyes playfully.
”Yeah, yeah… I bet.” He grinned.
Billy smiled down at him, blue eyes so pretty and full with love as he pushed Steve’s sweaty bangs away.
”I see you decorated the place. I love it.” Billy looked around, eyes lingering on the picture of the two of them on their nightstand. ”You definitely have the eyes for a home.”
It made Steve smile, the omega in him purring with happiness that his alpha was happy with him.
”Even better for the future, for the pups…” he said, loving how Billy’s eyes grew a little wide.
”Yeah?” Billy moved closer ”Wanna have pups?”
Steve gave the other a small peck on the lips ”Definitely. Not yet, but, someday…”
Billy kissed him back, deepening it a little until he pulled away with Steve’s flushed face.
”Can’t wait to knock you up. Make you full of pups, so round and sexy…” Billy started and ooooh yeah.
They were going at it again.
”Steve?”
Steve turned around, big brown eyes focusing on his mother. She looked pretty, she always was, but tired as her hands were full of groceries Steve knew his asshole of a father never wanted to carry.
He was the worst alpha. But his mother wasn’t a good omega either.
They were not good people. They hated him the second they found out he was omega and that they couldn’t fix the ’problem’. Ever since then the loving parents he had for the first twelve years were gone.
Steve hated them.
He put down the magazine he had been looking at and turned to his mother fully, slowly looking her up and down.
”Mrs. Harrington”
He loved the way his mother’s eyes twitched.
They were silent for a while and Steve was already about to just walk off and leave her there to stand like an idiot, but then she opened her mouth.
”You look.. happy.” His mother stated.
Oh, really?
Steve wanted to laugh.
”Oh, I am. I’m so happy. I have a beautiful house, a beautiful boyfriend.” He grinned ”I’ve never been this happy. Everything’s perfect. My alpha is perfect.”
He didn’t miss the small frown on his mother's face at the mention of Billy. His parents never agreed with him about his alpha, always called him names and that he was going to ruin Steve’s life even more than it already was after he had presented as an omega.
Their words, not his.
But oh were they so wrong.
”Steven—”
”Don’t!” He snapped, shutting her up which even surprised him a little, but his confidence just grew.
”I have to go before my alpha comes back home. He misses me a lot.” Was all he said before walking away, leaving his mother behind.
He didn’t need to tell her what he was doing, but knowing how his mother never got that type of love from his father, he knew it was a low blow. And his mother deserved every bit of it.
Fuck her. Fuck his dad.
Steve was so happy.
And he knew he had made the right choice when he laid in his alphas strong arms later that night, talking about their future and how someday, they were gonna have a house full of little nuggets running around.
Steve had never felt so in love.
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bellewintersroe · 3 months
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Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!
ahhhh sorry for such a big break!!! I’ve been super busy and had no motivation to write- hopefully this writers block doesn’t last too much longer!! Here’s the LINK for part 17. Part 18 - Leni struggles with the loneliness she didn’t expect when arriving back in England. Without speaking to Max and completely skipping the Las Vegas GP, she thinks she’s hit a low point. Little does she know it’s about to get a whole lot worse when Max spots her with no other than her ex-boyfriend…
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Sunday, 19th November 2023 - Las Vegas GP weekend.
The Las Vegas weekend was booming. Parties were happening left right and centre, alcohol was flowing and the advertising was just obnoxious.
Obnoxious that was to me. Whilst the race was occurring I was fast asleep- that quiet Sunday afternoon I sat in a local pub with a handful of my closer friends from my school days. It would’ve been pretty wholesome if my ex boyfriend didn’t just turn up out of the blue. I couldn’t have rolled my eyes any harder, immediately turning back to my phone to scroll past the many pictures of Max celebrating his win.
The sense of separation was straight up depressing. In fact, what happened between Max and I seemed to hurt worse than my breakup with my boyfriend of four years. I very quickly began to realise the overwhelmingly stupid mistake I’d made with Max. I no longer knew how to handle the feelings I had for him- who to tell, who to turn to. I replayed every moment over and over in my head about where it all went wrong- how it all went wrong. I was positive I’d exhausted all my friend’s ears about the topic, yet I still couldn’t rid the ache off my chest, no matter how hard I tried. “Guys let’s get a picture!!” My attention was diverted to my friend holding a phone up at the head of the table. Little did I know, taking that picture was about to make my life 10x more dramatic. It seemed that Max somehow did see a lot of things on social media, including the pictures of me and my friends and, sadly, my ex boyfriend sat right next to me. It’s not like I even talked to him once. So of course when my phone buzzed whilst I was sat at home later that evening, it was like all my prayers had been answered. Max had text. However, reading the message wasn’t so… prayers-being-answered-worthy. “I’m gonna go to bed, night night, you two.” I was very quick to leave the room I was in, my two siblings watching me in confusion as I sheepishly hurried upstairs. I didn’t even make it to my room before I was stood still, rereading the bitter toned text from Max.
Max: you could have told me if there was a reason you didn’t want to be with me
The message was short, sharp, it kinda didn’t make any sense, hence to why I was constantly re-reading it. My heart rate was sky high, and if I didn’t eventually collapse on my bed, I would’ve fainted from the lack of oxygen. I didn’t have it in me to hold the reply for another few minutes. I stared in utter confusion, feeling all the colour drain from my face. Leni: what????
Max: you’re back with your ex already
I momentarily frowned at the text, wincing in utter confusion. It became very clear what he was talking about when I remembered the picture from prior today. I felt borderline frantic, then silly. Max being bothered about this was a punch in the gut, maybe now was my chance to explain myself completely. Leni: he’s still friends with everybody, I didn’t speak to him once but I can’t stop him from going out to the same places as me? Max: ok
Leni: can we talk properly about all this? I let out a sigh, feeling as though my chest was about to literally explode. I couldn’t crucify with myself any longer knowing I’d completely destroyed this. Now Max was being blunt? Borderline petty? I knew how he normally text and this wasn’t right. The tears began to form around the same time my fingers started to tremble over my keypad. Max: I don’t know what there’s to talk about Leni
Leni: the fact you think I didn’t want to be serious with you because of my ex?? Max: I know that’s not the only reason
Leni: no its not a reason at all, me and my ex literally haven’t spoken a word to each other since we broke up, things didn’t work between us and I don’t want them to, I stopped things cos you’ve literally just broken up with Kelly, its way too soon
Max: it’s been months Leni, you know how I felt about that relationship and exactly why it ended, you know I would’ve waited for you, but it was all too immature for me, sleeping with each other and then nothing progresses? I don’t want that with you. Despite my attempts, there was no possible way I could even fathom a response. Anything I typed sounded pathetic or desperate- exactly how I felt. Max thought I was immature, maybe I was, but it still hurt to hear from him. I was torn between begging desperately for his forgiveness or succumbing to my internalised rage- thankfully I decided neither would work.
Instead, I kept myself to myself, using my I phone notes to rant out my dismay about the situation- about myself. I’d played Olivia Rodrigo on repeat, cried myself to sleep and during my showers, most mornings, if not all, I woke up with puffy eyes. I had officially hit rock bottom, and there was nothing I could do. I stared at myself back in the mirror. My eyes were red rimmed and despite my best efforts, the swelling around them hadn’t gone down. It didn’t help I couldn’t stop crying. I was so pathetic and immature, Max was right. I was being so dramatic, treating this like I’d broken up from my decade-long boyfriend. But I soon came to realise that’s exactly what it felt like. I’d been friends with Max for as long as I could remember, even during the awkward teenage days when I was too scared to be around boys. I remembered the prior few years before, when I was so happy to see him at the Grand Prix weekends, how close we’d been. Maybe getting together in the first place was a mistake? No. No that can’t be right.
How could it be when I’d just realised I loved him- and I think I always had.
My forehead dropped against the mirror with a groan, only picking it up when my phone screen lit up from the floor below me. At first my eyebrows knotted together, then they released in surprise.
Dad: I’ve bought your tickets to fly to AUH on Thursday. Geri’s told me you’ve been moping around, we’ll talk about it when you get here but I’m not having you missing the last Grand Prix. Fuck. Don’t get me wrong- anybody should and would be grateful for their dad doing this for them, and I was. But the thought of seeing Max was terrifying- I felt like an outsider, somebody who shouldn’t be there. It dawned on me that everybody’s friends and families would be there- including Max- I’d have to face his mum and sister knowing everything that had happened between us. I proceeded to drop my head against the mirror again. The anxiousness grew in my belly fast, all I wanted these past few days was to see Max, now all I could hope was for not to see him. As much as I hated to admit it, I absolutely dreaded the Grand Prix. Not only was I an angsty mess- I was an ungrateful one too…
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withacapitalp · 9 months
Text
How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 16
Part One Part Fifteen Link to Ao3. Part 17
So late but I needed to post this as soon as I was happy with it haha! Thank you to @stevethehairington for betaing and @thefreakandthehair for listening to my endless rambles
Step Sixteen: Fix What You Brea
Decorating a christmas tree was an interesting experience. 
It wasn’t like Eddie had never seen a tree before, it just wasn’t something he had ever personally done. Before living with Wayne, his parents had never stayed in one place long enough to have a tree, and after he moved in with Wayne, they both agreed that the money would be better spent on having a present for Eddie instead of a tree to just stare at. Eddie had always thought it would be kind of stupid anyway. What was the point? 
But decorating Steve’s tree was actually pretty enjoyable. 
Sure, Frank and Jeff were fighting over eating the popcorn string instead of hanging it up, and yeah, Jonathan kept making little side comments to Nancy about it that were almost a shade too sarcastic for comfort, but the air was filled with laughter, and Steve was directing him on where to put the important ornaments, so it wasn’t all bad. 
“What about this one?” Eddie asked, holding up a delicate glass design. It was shaped like a pair of ballet slippers, hanging on a pink ribbon that gleamed in the lights on the tree. 
This was the best part in Eddie’s opinion. Every single one of the ‘special’ ornaments had some story attached. A family anecdote or a tradition long held. Steve wasn’t on Eddie’s level of storytelling, but there was something incredibly cozy about holding out an ornament and listening to Steve tell the tale as they hung it up together. 
“That ones my mom’s,” Steve said, his voice inordinately warm as he took the ornament and leaned into Eddie’s space to place it on the right side of the tree almost all the way at the top. “She was a ballet dancer back in the day. The ribbon is from her first set of pointe shoes.”
“That’s cool,” Eddie said, looking closer. Sure enough the satin was too thick to be a traditional ribbon, and there were rips in it that had been sewn back together with pale pink thread. 
“Yeah. You have to replace pointe shoes every twenty hours of dancing or so, but my mom’s family never had much money, so she used hers until they were too broken to dance,” Steve explained, tracing his index finger down the side of the ribbon, his eyes far away somewhere Eddie couldn’t quite reach. 
Huh. 
It was strange to think of anyone in Steve’s family as anything but rich. The Harringtons were well known snobs, and although Eddie didn’t personally know Steve’s mom, he had definitely heard about her. Head of the PTA, head of the ladies auxiliary, head of the church prayer group. She was a socialite through and through. 
Initially Eddie had heard the word ‘ballet’ and imagined an uptight little prima in a sterile looking studio with starched white tutus and perfect form. Steve’s story had shifted that, and now Eddie’s mind was conjuring up images of a tiny girl practicing and practicing her steps with shoes that were tearing at the seams. A small child trying and trying to be as good as everyone else when the tools she was working with were nowhere near what everyone else got to have. 
The same way Eddie himself had practiced on his first guitar before he had started dealing and was able to afford his Warlock. 
“Why’d she stop dancing?” Eddie asked softly, suddenly desperate to know the answer. He needed to make the two images connect, needed to find the through line that could turn a poor kid who just wanted to dance into a formidable small town queen. 
“She married my dad,” Steve replied, giving the exact answer Eddie hadn’t wanted to hear. “They moved here, had my brother, and Mom didn’t need to work anymore. The back room used to be her studio, but my parents decided to make it a second office for my dad.”
Eddie bit his tongue, looking at the tree but avoiding the shimmering ballet slippers sitting on the branch above his head. 
Steve’s mom had been like him, then she married a rich guy, and gave up all the things that mattered for money. She had been just like him, once upon a time. 
Would that happen to Eddie? 
Was he turning into someone different now because of his crush on Steve? 
It wasn’t a completely lunatic idea. He was here decorating a tree, which is something he normally saw as completely arbitrary and useless. He was letting a jock into hellfire, and not just any jock but the King. 
Would being near Steve chip away at all of Eddie’s long held beliefs? Would he move backwards and backwards because of this idiotic infatuation, until his guitar was just an ornament on a tree? 
“Eddie?”
And then with just one look, Steve erased the entire idea. One flash of those big brown eyes and that little side quirk of his head, and Eddie is a goner. There was no way Steve would ever turn his partner into some cookie cutter perfect picket fence person, no planet on Earth where Steve wouldn’t love someone enough to love their weird bits too. This was Steve. 
And besides, it wasn’t even like Eddie was the kind of person that had a shot with Steve in the first place. For a lot of reasons. 
“Sorry, got lost in thought, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, crooking his mouth into a half smile and ignoring the panging ache of guilt crushing his chest. Steve’s shoulders relaxed and he leaned closer, letting his arm rest against Eddie’s. 
“Well, don’t go somewhere I can’t follow,” He murmured, the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his body sending Eddie into a tailspin. 
Just like before when their hands were joined and Steve’s warm breath was blowing across his frozen fingers, Eddie’s mind stuttered to a halt. The endless loops and running thoughts were stuck in place, held motionless by the enigma that was Steve Harrington. It was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at the same time, and Eddie needed to get away from it before he did something he couldn’t take back. 
“C’mon, we’ve still got work to do, lazy bones!” Eddie chirped, slipping away from Steve and practically jumping over to the box of carefully packaged decorations. He was so focused on escaping, that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings until it was a moment too late. 
At the same time Eddie picked up the next ornament, Jeff and Frank’s battle over the popcorn string reached its apex. Jeff let go of his side of the string, and Frank flew backwards. He barreled into Jonathan, who crashed into Nancy, who stumbled and bumped into Eddie just enough to make him lose his grip. 
The air was filled with the terribly delicate sound of breaking porcelain, and everything seemed to freeze in place. All six of them stared at the ground, where a tiny angel rested in three pieces where it had once been whole. 
“Shit, I’m sorry-”
“We were just fucking around, but we shouldn’t have-”
“Steve, I’m so-”
Floods of apologies from the rest, but Eddie stayed silent. He was watching Steve like a hawk as he slowly bent down on one knee and began to collect the pieces of the broken ornament. 
Steve hadn’t said a word yet, but he was still saying plenty. His shoulders were almost at his ears, and his fingers were shaking as they tried to grab onto the porcelain remains. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were starting to take on an honestly terrifying shine, and his blinking was getting more and more rapid by the second. 
Eddie should have left it alone, should have given Steve space to collect himself, but he had never been good at leaving things be. So, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, Eddie knelt down by Steve and reached out to put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. 
“Sweetheart?” 
“It’s fine,” Steve instantly replied, a completely hollow smile materializing on his face as he continued to blink far too much. He leaned away from Eddie’s touch, a tiny jerky movement that put a twenty pound weight on Eddie’s chest. Steve scrambled upwards, cradling the broken ornament close to his heart as he continued to fake a smile. “It was an accident, Babydoll. No worries.”  
It was an accident, but that didn’t make it ‘fine’. Steve was obviously so far from fine, and even that little silly name wasn’t enough to assure Eddie of the lie. It actually made it worse, like Steve was trying to appease him, to make Eddie let it go, when he really didn’t think he should. 
“I’m gonna go see if we have superglue. It doesn’t look too bad,” Steve said to the entire group, still faking it. Unlike Eddie though, the rest were buying it, tension leaking out of them with relieved smiles and quiet sighs. “You guys finish up though, people will be here any minute.” 
And then he was gone, ducking into the kitchen and disappearing from view, leaving Eddie unmoored and unsure of where to go. Every fiber in his being wanted to chase after Steve, catch him alone and hope that he wouldn’t keep trying to hide, but he was stuck in place. Steve had leaned away, escaped as soon as he could, that had to be a sign that he didn’t want Eddie near him. 
Wasn’t it? 
“Nice job, butterfingers,” Frank joked, gently jabbing an elbow into Eddie’s ribs in an effort to lighten up the air around him. 
Eddie threw him a distracted smile, still staring at the doorway Steve had disappeared through and trying to ignore the part of him that was desparate to follow. 
“I’m gonna go check on him,” Nancy murmured to Jonathan, nearly inaudible over the sound of Jeff and Frank looking for a broom to get any remaining slivers of porcelain on the ground. Jonathan nodded with a quiet hum, kissing Nancy on the cheek before letting her go without even a word. 
Because it was oh so natural for an ex-girlfriend to leave her current boyfriend in the dust to go check on her ex-boyfriend. 
Eddie watched her perfect little curls bounce in their perfect little ringlets as she practically skipped out after Steve. Now Nancy was going to go in there and comfort Steve, act all sweet and soft and drag Steve into thinking that she cared when she was the one that had cheated. Hell, maybe they would even kiss, and she would have her hooks in Steve again. 
Why wasn’t Jonathan upset about this?!
… Why was Eddie so upset about this?
Eddie let his eyes slip shut, his breath escaping in one huge gust as he finally began to wilt. It wasn’t really any of his business. He and Steve were friends. That was all. If Steve wanted to kiss Nancy, then he would kiss her, and that wasn’t Eddie’s choice. All Eddie had was a fanciful crush, a ridiculous dream, a hope for something that he should never have let himself hope for. 
But still. 
“I’m gonna find a bathroom,” Eddie muttered to no one, slipping out of the room and carefully creeping down the hallway towards the kitchen. 
He could hear the indistinguishable sound of voices coming from the room ahead, the open door tempting him closer and closer for a taste of what Steve and Nancy were discussing. 
Was Eddie really doing this? 
Yes. Yes he was. 
Resolved, Eddie leaned against the hidden side of the doorway, letting his head hit the wall as he shut his eyes and focused on eavesdropping. 
“-really don’t want to talk about it, Nancy,” Steve said, sounding utterly exhausted as cupboards opened and slammed shut. 
“Okay,” Nancy relented, clearly not happy to let the subject go, “let’s talk about the other thing?”
Other thing?
“Other thing?” Steve asked. Eddie bit back a snicker, his heart fluttering at the way Steve had mirrored him without even knowing it. 
“You invited Eddie?”
The humor instantly fled, rushing out of the hallway along with all of the oxygen, leaving Eddie dizzy and struggling to breathe. His indulgent smile soured into a scowl, and his hands curled into tight fists. 
It was the tone. That tone that Eddie had heard his whole life. The condescending, lower-than-me, dirt on the shoes of society tone. It was the kind of thing that girls like Nancy could use because they lived in perfect two story houses on cul-de-sacs, and Eddie was trailer trash from the bad side of town. 
Well fuck her. Fuck Nancy Wheeler and her stupid perfect life, and fuck her for hating him just for existing. Eddie could hate her right back. He had hating the conventional down to a science, an art form almost. He was brilliant at striking first, and he had half a mind to walk in there and tear her down a few notches, just for the fun of it.  
“What is your problem with him?” 
Eddie stopped in his tracks, blinking his eyes open and staring in shock at the wall in front of him, watching Steve’s shadow turn to face Nancy’s. 
“I don’t have a problem,” Nancy scoffed. 
“Obviously you do, Nance,” Steve shot back, crossing his arms  “Eddie’s a good guy. They’re my friends.” 
A good guy. 
It wasn’t exactly a glowing recommendation or anything, but the words and the protectiveness in Steve’s voice was doing terrible wonderful things to Eddie’s stomach. His fingers were still burning from being held by Steve before, and now his brain was on fire too, caught in the blaze that was Steve damn Harrington. 
“I… I just think he might be trouble,” Nancy admitted softly, quickly continuing when she heard Steve’s inhale of interjecting, “and not in the way you’re thinking! I promise.”
A long silence, one that gave Eddie too much time to think, one that left too much room for endless questions with zero answers. 
What kind of trouble did Nancy think Eddie was dragging Steve into? What would Eddie do that she was so scared of? Did she really care that much about Steve’s reputation? Steve didn’t even care about it anymore! 
Was she scared for her brother? Why was all of this so damn cryptic?
“In what way?” Steve finally asked, and Eddie leaned in, needing the answer.
“Just-” Nancy cut herself off with a frustrated little sound, and her shadow eclipsed Steve as she stood on her tiptoes to put her arms around his shoulders. 
“If you ever need to talk. About anything. Me and Jonathan are here. We would never judge you for anything. You know that right?” 
Eddie barely heard it, the words muffled between the two bodies, but he heard Steve’s soft chuckle, and saw the way his shadow arms wrapped around Nancy.
Even just an image of them on the wall looked so… right. 
It made a small part of Eddie die inside. 
He closed his eyes once, hating the burn that was already there waiting. He shouldn’t have come over and listened. He shouldn’t have done any of this. But as Eddie took a step back to walk to the living room with his tail tucked between his legs, Nancy spoke again. 
“And you need to tell them about El before she gets here.”
El?
Who was El? 
“Shit, you’re right,” Steve sighed, pulling away from Nancy, “I totally forgot.”
“Do you remember the story?”
“Nancy I’m the one that came up with it,” Steve said, annoyance tinging his voice, “I remember the story.”
Story? 
Eddie was definitely eavesdropping about something bigger than relationship woes now, and the mystery of it all dug right into his soft spot, pulling him away from his aching heart and tugging him forward with a desperate need to know more. 
This was the thing that Wayne always tried to warn him about. Eddie’s need to know everything was always getting him in trouble, and he had heard plenty of times about what curiosity did to cats. 
That was all true… but the thing that Wayne always seemed to forget was that satisfaction brought that cat back. 
“It’s important that we get this right, Steve. You know what-”
But whatever Steve knew, Eddie didn’t seem destined to hear it. As he leaned closer, intent on catching every word, he overbalanced, tripping over his own feet and slamming his entire body against the other side of the doorway, coming into full view of both of them. Steve and Nancy both jolted, pulling away from each other and staring at Eddie with slack jaws and wide eyes. 
Fuck. 
“This is what I get for never tying my shoes,” Eddie joked awkwardly, trying to be casual as he straightened up and let out the world’s worst fake laugh. His brain was racing, running as fast as it could to come up with any rational reason for him being there besides eavesdropping. 
“Are you okay?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing. He didn’t even seem to catch what was going on, but Nancy was practically glaring, her lips pursed in quiet fury. 
“I’m fine, Sweetheart,” Eddie reassured him, ignoring Nancy’s look in favor of focusing all of his attention on Steve. If he played it right, then Nancy calling him out would just look like she was against him, which Steve had already tried to stop. 
He wasn’t being manipulative. This was just strategy, the same kind of strategic thinking that any dungeon master worth their salt would employ. It was improv, a game, an act. Nothing bad. Nothing wrong. 
So why was guilt creeping cold fingers down Eddie’s spine? 
“What do you want?” Nancy asked, clearly trying to go for nonchalant but coming off completely cold with her crossed arms and flat inflection. It wasn’t working in her favor if Steve’s quick sharp look was anything to go by, and Eddie did his best not to preen under Steve’s protection. 
“Drinks? The boys were wondering if you had anything stronger than eggnog,” Eddie wondered, coming up with his excuse on the fly. It would work. Frank was never one to turn down a stiff drink, especially if it came loaded with whatever ridiculously expensive alcohol the Harringtons were keeping stashed away here. 
Nancy tossed her hair over his shoulder, raising a single brow as her expression stayed firmly unimpressed. It made Eddie want to squirm in place, but he held firm, meeting her head on. 
“You know there’s gonna be kids at this party, right?” Nancy said, her voice a little less frosty, but a hell of a lot more condescending. “And the chief of police.”
Eddie bristled, opening his mouth to tell her exactly where Hopper could stick it, but Steve intervened before he could. 
“There’s nothing wrong with having a little,” Steve offered in a mediating tone, already moving towards one of the high cabinets and starting to open it. “But just one before they get here. Last thing I need is the brats trying to convince me they’re old enough for whiskey.” 
“Jack and Coke? Or are you spoiling me with the good stuff?” Eddie asked, possibly laying it on an inch too thick, but unable to help it when Steve was giving him that fondly annoyed side eye. 
“We do not drink the good stuff as a mixed beverage,” Steve lectured, grabbing a fat bottle from behind a box on the shelf and bringing it down, “but I think breaking out the crown wouldn’t be amiss.”
“A crown for a king!” Eddie crowed, taking the bottle of Crown Royal from Steve and wiggling his eyebrows. Steve huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head at Eddie’s antics and turning towards the fridge. 
“Here, Nance,” Steve said absentmindedly, holding out a bottle of coke for her, “take that inside and you guys can make your own before everyone else gets here. I’ll be in once I find the glue.” 
“Why don’t I help you?” Eddie blurted out, his mouth moving before his mind even caught up with what he was saying. 
“Oh, sure,” Steve agreed, still distracted as he began to root around in cupboards. 
“You’ll be needing this,” Eddie said sweetly, offering up the bottle to Nancy as she walked past him. 
Nancy’s eyes narrowed impossibly further, and she let out a short sigh, taking the bottle of alcohol with a vicious little swipe and striding out of the room. Eddie watched her go, barely resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at her retreating form. 
He had won. That was what mattered. 
Did Eddie even know what he had won? No, but he still felt like he did. 
Once it was just the two of them, Eddie’s hackles began to slowly lower. There was no need to be on guard when it was just him and Steve. He idly twirled around the kitchen table, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen and looking around the room with distracted curiosity. He had been in the kitchen before, but never really cared enough to explore the details. 
Now every fridge magnet was a new discovery, and the way that the spices were lined up on the rack was information that seemed important. But the most interesting thing in the kitchen was the angel on the counter right by Eddie’s fingers. 
It was a pretty thing, delicate, but somehow still beautiful, even in parts. The sculpted wings were curled around the figure of a little boy, kneeling with his hands cupped over a star. At the bottom of the ornament was the name ‘Jaime’ in ornate script. 
Jaime. 
“Who’s Jaime?” Eddie wondered aloud. He had mostly been talking to himself, but his words caused Steve to stop short, flying around from the drawer he had been searching through and whirl around to face Eddie.
“Where did you…” Steve trailed off, noticing the angel. He wilted like a dying flower, biting at the inside of his cheek as he turned his back to Eddie, returning to the drawer of odds and ends. 
“Jaime’s my brother,” Steve said shortly. 
Eddie’s shoulders were starting to tighten, but he pushed through the feeling. It wasn’t a rejection, or an outright refusal to speak. Steve was just being cagey, secretive the way he sometimes was. 
Eddie could crack that. 
“Ah, yes, the elusive mystery brother,” He joked, putting on a fake accent and bopping over to Steve’s side, bumping against him in an effort to get Steve smiling again. “Will the elder Harrington sibling be making an appearance at tonight’s festivities?” 
Maybe if he was, Eddie would get some answers. Reasons for the panic attack at the Hideout, or some details on the mysterious ‘El’. The possibility of unraveling another part of Steve was enticing, coaxing Eddie further down the rabbit hole. 
“Um…”
Just like that the curiosity was gone. Instantly killed by the way Steve’s adams apple was starting to bob, and the sharp shaking inhale that went along with it. Eddie’s heart fell to his feet, and his fingers felt cold for the first time since Steve had touched him. 
“I was just kidding around. You don’t have to-” Eddie began.
“It’s okay,” Steve interrupted, still worrying his lip as his eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at Eddie. He was gearing up, trying to find what he wanted to say or maybe trying to force it out. Either way, Eddie was going to be frozen in place until Steve was ready to speak. 
“Jaime um… Jaime died,” Steve finally managed, the word practically shooting out of his mouth the second he was done choking on it. 
It was like being dunked in a freezing cold shower and tossed out in the snow. Not only had Eddie forced Steve into talking about his dead brother, he had broken the ornament obviously meant to commemorate him. 
If he had a gun, he would be pushing it up against his temple. Nope. Even that wouldn’t be enough. 
“Fuck,” Eddie hissed out, wishing he could just shut his damn mouth for once, but he was too keyed up to stay quiet. The apology was worthless, but it was already spilling out of his mouth, vomiting itself up, “Steve, I-”
“Really, it’s fine,” Steve insisted, busying himself with looking for the glue. “How could you know? Besides, he died before I was born, so…”
“So?” Eddie prompted, not really sure where Steve was going with that. 
Steve said ‘so’ like that meant it didn’t matter, but from just one glance Eddie knew how much this did. Steve, who was one of the most open people Eddie knew, was hunched over, practically trying to disappear from Eddie’s gaze, hiding away whatever emotions were trying to push themselves up to the surface, demanding to be felt. 
“So- I don’t know,” Steve said, cutting himself off with a sigh. He held up the tiny bottle of superglue, walking over to the other side of the counter, his back to Eddie again. “But it’s my mom’s favorite ornament, and she would get really upset if she came home and it was broken,”
Steve gave a tiny laugh that wasn’t really a laugh, the tip of his finger running over the edge of the wing like it had run over the satin of the ballet slipper ribbon. 
“Not that I even know when she’s coming home again,” He whispered, the bitterness in the words so heavy that it was sitting on Eddie’s tongue. 
It was just wrong. Eddie had never heard Steve sound so beaten down, even in the parking lot the other night. This was somehow worse than just watching Steve shake through an unseen panic that he couldn’t control. 
But, unlike that night, Eddie could do something about this. So, rather than satisfy his own curiosity, Eddie put his needs to the side. 
“Can I?” Eddie asked, holding out his hand for the glue and the angel. “I work on miniatures all the time. I’m super steady.” 
Steve looked down at the hand outstretched toward him, then up at Eddie. A long slow look that went deep in Eddie, making him want to squirm with how far it was going. 
Then, finally, Steve relented. He handed over the pieces and hopped up onto the counter, watching Eddie like a hawk. 
Eddie immediately went to work, bending his head close to the angel and narrowing his eyes as he carefully glued first the broken wing on, and then the small corner of the name plaque. He held both in a firm but soft grip, balancing the ornament effortlessly between his hands as he waited for the glue to bond the pieces back together. And, as he did all of that, he worked up the courage to say what he was thinking. 
“You know it’s okay, right?” Eddie whispered, unable to make his voice any louder. 
“What is?” Steve whispered back, just as quiet. 
“If you aren’t okay,” Eddie replied, braving a quick glance up at Steve’s face. 
It was the wrong thing to do. The blank look of utter shock on Steve’s face was painful, hurting Eddie inside in a place he didn’t even know existed. 
All at once Eddie was sure that he was the first person to ever tell Steve such a thing, and that was just… too much. It was too much pressure, too much potential to fuck it up and hurt Steve even more, too much of a chance that Eddie would say the wrong thing. 
But it was also too much to not be sure Steve knew that it was the absolute truth. 
“You’re allowed to not be okay,” Eddie said, gently placing the repaired angel in Steve’s palm. 
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sunsetsimon · 2 months
Text
hi an update after my appointment,
I DO NOT HAVE CANCER!!!!!!
holy shit i can’t even explain how good it feels to be able to say that. after wrestling with this for months i finally have the answer.
without getting too specific about it, in my last experience, i had lumps in my right breast in february 2022 that my doctor was concerned about and wanted me to get checked. my scans came back clear of malignant lumps, but there definitely were cysts in my breast tissue that were causing me pain. because of my symptoms they didn’t feel it was necessary to remove them and they eventually went away.
november 2023, right as i’m moving apartments, i notice that i have another painful lump in my right breast. i figured it must be the same cyst situation from before, so i decided to wait on it before starting to freak out. the pain continued to grow, expanding into my armpit region and i was experiencing a lot of soreness and shooting pains. i already don’t wear bra’s, but it became extremely uncomfortable and i had to move up in size to be able to continue to wear them.
one day months later as i was about to shower, i noticed that my nipple looked really weird. like, you know how as they harden they shrink and become perkier? (those with puffy nipples like me - you get it). only half of my right nipple was hard, and it looked oddly shriveled and wrinkled. this is when i started to realize that this could actually be something serious.
so i got my referral from my primary and just had my screenings today. NO CANCER. but there is abnormal tissue growth, nothing serious but it will still continue to cause me pain and soreness. (apparently this is a common thing for people with breasts)
she said it could be hormonal, as she noticed some of the same on my left breast. we’re not sure what happened with my nipple as i haven’t really experienced that again, but i’ll continue to keep an eye on everything for any changes.
i feel good knowing that as of now, it’s nothing. but with the history of my aunt, grandma, and great aunt all developing breast cancer, i should still always be on pretty high alert, especially since im not in the best health.
so yeah, trust yourself when you think something isn’t right about your body.
thank you so so so much to all who sent me kind words and thoughts, kept me in your prayers and good wishes. i am so grateful to have people who care about my wellbeing. you gave me the strength to stop being so consumed by fear and push through. i’ve even been able to write a tiny bit! i love and appreciate you all so much, seriously. and i miss you all too!
now that i’m able to have this major weight off of my shoulders i feel like i can take a deep breath again.
i hope you’ve been taking care 💗 i should have a new post for simon out soon!!
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