#my sister made me the blue band | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xhoneygirlxx · 7 months

Text

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #honey's birthday bash #honey's holiday celebrations

1K notes · View notes

peachyhalstead · 2 months

Text

married man | j. halstead

request:Can you do a Jay Halstead x Reader. They are both married and have a child together. The child just started pre-k or kindergarten and since the reader is heavily pregnant Jay has been dropping off and picking up their kid. And maybe like the single moms are flirting with Jay since they think he might be a single dad but they get surprised when the reader picks the kid one day after giving birth.

pairing: established (married) fem!reader x jay halstead

word count: 1.75k

warnings: none??

a/n: dad!jay dad!jay dad!jay !!!!! they have a little boy (his name is dylan) and a newborn girlie (what should her name be)

------

Grumbling as the alarm went off, you blindly reached over and whacked Jay on the chest. “Why’s it have to be so loud?”

Jay chuckled, silencing his phone’s alarm. “It’s not even that loud, babe.”

You glared at him through narrow eyes. “If I wasn’t about to pop right now I’d give you a piece of my mind.”

Letting out a hearty laugh, Jay got out of bed and folded his portion of the comforter back up, trapping the heat for you. “Only a few more weeks, babe. Then you’ll be able to move without having to pee every two seconds.”

You slowly followed Jay, yawning and rubbing the nine-month bump as you headed into the kitchen to package your son’s lunch.

He had recently started kindergarten, and loved telling you and Jay about all his escapades with his classmates as he learned different things.

“I could’ve done that, you didn’t have to get up.” Jay said, popping a capsule into the coffee machine and starting it.

Shrugging, you zipped the lunchbox closed and set it next to the matching blue backpack, one hand going to rub at the sore spot on your back. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall back to sleep.”

Jay noticed, and his hands slowly made their way to the exact spot that bothered you in your first pregnancy. “Who do you thinks going to ask me out today, hm?”

Laughing softly, you clicked your tongue at Jay. “You really enjoy that, don’t you? Miss getting hit on?”

Jay shook his head. “Don’t miss it one bit. Just enjoy seeing those soccer moms think their whispers are quiet.”

A few weeks ago Jay had mentioned that some of the moms at drop-off had been talking about Jay, commenting on his lack of wedding band and no significant other ever at drop off or pick up.

“Momma, when will you go to school with me?” Dylan asked, your son finally making his appearance in his pajamas.

“Soon, little bug. Once Little Sister is here, I’ll drop you off with Daddy some days.”

Dylan frowned. “Can Sissy come now?”

You huffed, wanting nothing more than to deliver the weight that seemed to be constantly on your bladder. “I wish, but I think she needs a few more weeks.”

Jay smiled into his coffee cup, phone chiming with a text from Hailey. “Come on, Dyl. Let’s get dressed so you can show your friends your new shoes.”

Dylan beamed at the thought, and followed Jay back to his room, leaving you alone in the warm kitchen. The aroma of coffee lingered as you found a chair to rest in, hand absently tracing circles over your distended belly.

A sigh of contentment escaped you; this was your world, and despite the groggy mornings and occasional aggravations - like trying to convince Dylan to brush his teeth properly - you wouldn’t change it for anything else. That was the beauty of family - it wasn’t always perfect, but it was yours. And that made all the imperfections precious in their own odd way.

The sound of Jay's voice pulled you from your thoughts as he asked Dylan to choose between two shirts. You smiled, knowing how seriously your little boy took these morning decisions. Sipping on some water and slowly standing up, you decided to start breakfast.

The scent of eggs and bacon soon filled the room, joining the still lingering coffee aroma. Dylan would be excited; he loved his simple morning breakfasts. As you were flipping an egg, Jay returned with Dylan in tow. Their matching grins caught your eye.

“What are you two up to?” You questioned playfully, adjusting your hold on your bump.

“Nothing,” they both chimed in unison, their grins growing even wider.

“Okay,” you drew out the first syllable, grabbing a plate and moving the eggs for Dylan to eat, blowing on them as you cut them into pieces.

“Eat, then Daddy will bring you to school.” You smiled, cracking a few more eggs and grabbing a tortilla and the toppings you knew Jay liked, quickly making a breakfast wrap for him.

Wrapping it in foil, you smiled to yourself as you heard Jay helping Dylan put on his sneakers.

“Ok, we gotta go, Little Man! Go give Momma a kiss.”

Dylan skipped over to you, wrapping his little arms around your legs, promising you he’d come home with a drawing to put in the nursery.

Thanking him, you smiled at Jay as he grabbed the wrap and his badge, stopping to press a kiss to your forehead. “Take it easy today, babe.”

“I will. Go break hearts and catch perps, Jay.”

——

Jay hid his eye roll as he followed Dylan to the drop off location, ignoring the looks from the few single mothers nearby.

“I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t grab that ass? He’s such a good dad, too.”

Jay overheard one of the mothers and shook his head, stifling a laugh. He still found it amusing and somewhat flattering to know that he was the topic of their little gossip circle. But he also knew firmly where his heart lay - at home with you and Dylan, and soon, your new little girl.

As Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, he turned to Jay with a big grin. "Daddy, do you think I can tell Mrs. Johnson about Sissy coming soon?"

Jay bent down to his level, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Of course, buddy. I'm sure she will be thrilled to hear it."

At that moment, a pair of giggling women walked by, shooting him suggestive glances over their shoulders. He merely smiled politely before turning away.

Arriving back at the car, Jay pulled out his phone and saw a text from you: Feeling better now that the house is empty. How did drop off go?

He quickly typed back: Smooth as always. He's telling all his teachers about his soon-to-be little sister.

Satisfied, he started the vehicle and headed towards the precinct. His phone chimed again with your response: That's my boy! Take care at work, Jay.

He chuckled as he imagined you grinning at your phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table even though you often chided him for doing the same thing.

——

The routine didn’t shift for the next few weeks, but the gossiping mothers were surprised when Dylan was dropped off by Will one day, Jay at the hospital where you were currently resting with the newest addition to the family.

“Uncle Will, can we see Momma and Sissy after school?” Dylan asked, tugging on his uncle’s hand.

"Of course, buddy," Will replied with a soft smile, watching as Dylan's face lit up with joy. "I bet they can't wait to see you."

Once Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, Will indulged in a moment of silence. He was used to the emergency room's relentless noise and bustle, so the unfamiliar hush of the school yard in the early morning was a welcome respite. A group of mothers were huddled together, shooting glances his way. Perhaps he was becoming part of their gossip routine now too - he silently hoped otherwise.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Jay could barely tear his gaze away from you sleeping peacefully, the tiny bundle in his arms a testament to your strength and love. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight; you looked more beautiful than ever, your face radiating an exhausted but blissful glow as your daughter, their daughter, clung onto his finger with her small hand.

Just then, she stirred awake and let out a soft whimper which turned into a loud wail. He quickly got up and started to gently rock her, not wanting her cries to disturb your much-needed rest.

“Hey there, little princess,” he cooed softly as he bounced her gently in his arms. “Let’s not wake Mommy up now.”

After a few minutes of gentle rocking and hushed lullabies - Jay trying his best to remember the ones you sung to Dylan when he was an infant, the baby quieted down, blue eyes peering up at her father.

“Hi, munchkin. You already have half of Chicago’s first responders wrapped around your finger.” He whispered, soft smile at his lips as he thought back to the replies from his team when he sent the photo of the baby in the group chat.

"The other half is itching to meet you. Just wait until Uncle Will gets a hold of you. You're going to be spoiled rotten." He laughed softly, mindlessly tracing a finger over his daughter's tiny forehead.

His phone buzzed where he had left it on the bedside table. It was a message from Will letting him know that Dylan had been dropped off at school and asking if they could come by after school to see the baby.

Jay's heart swelled, even more, knowing his son was equally excited about his little sister's arrival. Jay quickly typed a response, assuring Will they would be more than happy to have visitors later in the day.

——

The day passed in a flurry of nurses checking vitals and bringing meals, phone calls from family and friends, and quiet moments spent marveling over their newest addition. Dylan was bursting with energy when Will brought him by after school, his wide eyes taking in everything with an infectious excitement that had everyone in the room smiling.

"Momma, Sissy is really small!" Dylan whispered in awe as he approached the bed, carefully peering over the edge of the bassinet.

You chuckled at his innocent observation as Jay helped him climb up onto the bed to get a better look. "Yes, she is," you agreed with a fond smile. "You were that small, too, Little Man!”

Dylan looked at you with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh!”

“Mhmm!” You replied, fixing his shirt as he squirmed to get another look at his sister.

“When can you and Sissy come to school?” He asked, looking at you.

Jay laughed quietly, and you looked at your husband. “Soon, Dyl.”

——

Two weeks later, you consoled the crying baby as Jay helped Dylan put his backpack on. “Can Sissy come meet Mrs. Johnson?”

Shaking your head, you carefully strapped the little girl into her carrier, softly rubbing her cheek. “Not yet. Maybe during the spring concert, but she’s still too little.”

Jay stood up and grabbed his keys. “She can help Momma and Daddy drop you off, though. That sound good?”

Dylan’s face lit up at the thought. “Yeah! Everyone will get to see her!” He jumped excitedly before Jay guided him out the door.

Satisfied with your successful early morning, you carried the baby carrier to the car and buckled it in securely at the back seat. Moving around was still a little tough for you but you were slowly getting the hang of things. You climbed into the passenger side, glancing back at Dylan who was squirming in his seat with anticipation.

The drive to the school was filled with Dylan's non-stop chatter about what he was going to show his little sister. Jay had a soft smile on his face as he listened to his son, occasionally glancing at you in admiration and shared joy.

Once they arrived in front of the school, Dylan unbuckled himself and carefully opened your car door for you. “Be careful, Momma!” He cautioned, making Jay chuckle as he followed behind with his son’s backpack.

You smiled, letting Jay go ahead with Dylan so he wasn’t late, working to unstrap your daughter’s carrier so Dylan could see her one last time before he was in school.

“Jay, haven’t seen you the last few days. Is everything okay?” One of the mothers who had tried to hit on Jay asked, faux worry on her face.

Jay wore a smile as he turned to the woman, Dylan's hand tucked safely in his own as they made their way toward the school entrance. "Yeah, everything’s great, actually. My wife just gave birth to our second child," he responded casually, nodding his head towards the car where you were carefully lifting the baby carrier.

The woman blinked in surprise before offering a tight-lipped smile, "Oh, I didn’t know... congratulations."

"Thanks," Jay replied with a nod before turning his attention back to Dylan whose bundle of excitement was barely contained. As Jay opened the door for him to enter he looked into the bright eyes of his son and smiled reassuringly, "You ready?"

Dylan nodded eagerly, already tugging on his father's hand to drag him inside. Jay followed docilely, striding up the hallway towards Dylan's classroom.

Meanwhile, you were still out by the car, struggling slightly with the baby carrier that seemed to weigh even more than your now two-week-old daughter. A few mothers noticed and stepped forward to help you, their faces lighting up at the sight of the infant bundled up against the cold.

"Oh she's absolutely adorable!" One woman cooed, and you recognized her from when Jay was telling you how one of them started to wear low-cut tops after he started doing drop off duty.

You walked with them to the doors, smile brightening when you saw Jay and Dylan at the door, the young boy wanting to say goodbye to his sister.

“Bye, Sissy! Bye, Momma!” Dylan smiled, giving his sister a kiss and hugging your legs, unaware that his farewells caused the mothers who had walked with you to gasp lightly.

Jay’s smile widened at Dylan's display of affection, ruffling his son's hair gently, "Alright, champ. We’ll pick you up later. Have a great day at school."

Dylan nodded eagerly before disappearing into the bustling school building with his teacher. The remaining mothers turned to you, their surprised expressions replaced by warm, slender smiles as they admired your little girl.

Back in the car, you laughed as Jay started the ignition. “Think I felt the daggers from some of the moms when they found out you’re married.”

Jay snorted, turning back to the road to your house. “Well, that or when they found out we have great sex. Either way, watch your back, babe.”

You gawked at Jay’s remark, hitting him in the chest. “Jay! Your daughter is listening!”

“Oh, she’ll hear worse when Ruz babysits her." ------ a/n: send requests if you wanna!!

#jay halstead x fem!reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd #one chicago

518 notes · View notes

obaex · 8 months

Text

untouchable - rafe cameron

summary: when a fight breaks out at midsummers, an unexpected ally reminds you who you are and whose you are

word count: 2k

a/n: set during season 1 midsummers. indulging in all my favorite things about soft + protective rafe ♡

It was the perfect summer night.

Stars twinkled overhead and the deck of the Island Club was awash in the warm glow of hundreds of string lights that swayed gently in the breeze coming off the ocean. The slow, sweet melody that the band was playing swirled through the air and mixed with the chatter and laughter that surrounded Midsummers.

Your arms wrapped around Rafe’s neck, cheek pressed to his as his arms embraced you, his hands resting on your lower back where his fingers traced small circles as you swayed back and forth. Your eyes fluttered closed as you relaxed into him. You could smell his expensive cologne, his signature scent that was so overwhelmingly him it clouded your head. At this distance, you could feel the heat coming off of his body, feel him hum happily against you as you ran your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck.

He shifted slightly, lowering his lips against your ear as he whispered, “You look beautiful tonight.” You smiled widely and laughed quietly as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I know I’ve said it about five times already, but I’m going to keep telling you, gorgeous. You’re the most beautiful girl here, and I’m damn lucky to be by your side. Tonight… always.” You pulled back to look at him, wanting to see his azure blue eyes sparkle, which they did, with love, with admiration, and with a hint of mischief as he took you in. He leaned down to kiss you, letting his lips linger just on top of yours, brushing them agonizingly close, but not letting them touch, teasing you as his lips curled into a smile against yours, knowing how much this drove you crazy, how much he drove you crazy before he relented; he was never one to deny you what you wanted. His lips worked against yours like no one was watching, warm and soft. He tasted sweet like champagne and your head was spinning. You had lost count of the number of times he had kissed you, but you never got tired of the way it made you feel, like you were floating. You nipped his lip lightly, playfully, and you could feel his hands grip the back of your dress as he tried to restrain himself. “Mmpf you have no idea what you do to me. I will throw you over my shoulder right now if you keep that up” he said between the kisses that you continued to press against his lips.

“I’ll just have to save it for later” you said slyly as you looked up at him with your doe eyes.

“I can have you in the car, to Tanneyhill, and in my bed in 15 minutes” he said seriously, even as his signature smirk rested on his lips, and you laughed. “11 actually, final estimate.”

“I’m having fun, Rafe, we can be patient.”

“Patience is not a strength of mine” he replied, chuckling. That much you knew well.

The band switched to a more upbeat song and people began shifting around the dance floor.

“Drink?” Rafe asked.

“Yes, please” you replied.

He pressed another warm, sincere kiss to your lips. “Be right back, pretty girl” he said as he shifted towards the bar.

You scanned the party quickly, eyes landing on Rafe’s sister Sarah and you wandered over to keep her company. “Dare I ask where Topper is?” you said jokingly. She looked over at you and laughed, rolling her eyes. You two had a close relationship; in many ways you were like the older sister she never had, she confided in you more than anyone else, so you knew all about John B at this point. It didn’t surprise you that she had distanced herself from her boyfriend tonight, and it didn’t surprise you when John B’s best friend approached her, casually brandishing a note in her direction.

“I’ve got a uh note from Vlad” he said, eyeing her knowingly. She was grinning from ear to ear as she took it from him and began reading. JJ’s eyes shifted from her to you, recognizing you immediately.

“Future Mrs. Cameron? Lovely to see you here tonight” he said.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at the nickname, knowing he didn’t mean it as a compliment, but you nodded kindly at him in response.

“Aww, what, that’s all I get? Boyfriend won’t let you talk to me? I’m surprised he left your side for more than two minutes.”

Sarah’s head shot up at his mocking tone as she smacked him on the arm, “JJ” she said, “leave her alone.”

“What!” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “If I was dating the hottest girl on the island, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight either!”

You rolled your eyes.

“Seriously, sweetheart, when you get tired of the hair gel and inevitably mediocre sex, call me” he said, lifting his fingers to his ear like a phone.

“What? –” you started to say angrily, when JJ glanced over your shoulder, eyes widening as he began to take a couple of steps back.

You felt a warm hand slide around your waist as Rafe appeared by your side, eyes transfixed on the boy in front of him.

“What the fuck did you just say to her?” he said, his voice calm, his tone even, the control he had in the moment somehow more frightening than the alternative.

“Ya know, I’m on the clock right now, I should get back—” JJ said, pointing over his shoulder, quickly trying to backpedal.

“Nah, you know, I really want to know what you said to my girlfriend. I want to know why you thought you could talk to her, or even look at her for that matter?” Rafe continued, his hand slipping off your waist as he walked towards JJ, his imposing figure looming over him.

“My mistake” JJ said, holding his hands out in front of him “thought this was a free country for a second, but I’ll know better next time.”

Rafe laughed and you could tell there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it.

“Next time? Next time. Right, right… There’s not going to be a next time, Maybank. Stay the fuck away from her” he said, the threat lingering in the air, the dancefloor now quiet as people caught on to their argument.

JJ eyed Rafe carefully before nodding, and just as Rafe was ready to bury his anger for the sake of saving your night, just as he was ready to go back to dancing with you, maybe even convince you to leave early with him, JJ said, “But I mean, can you blame me? In a dress like that? She’s practically begging for it.”

Rafe lunged before anyone could grab him and several people near you screamed. He tackled JJ to the ground and landed three solid right-hooks to his face before security arrived and pulled them apart.

“This isn’t over, Maybank!” he shouted as JJ spit blood on the ground at Rafe’s feet, causing him to jerk in the grip of the security guard all over again.

“Sir,” security said, “please follow me” he said, escorting Rafe firmly off the dance floor as JJ was pulled in the opposite direction.

“What!?” Rafe said, “I’m a member here, he was harassing my girlfriend!”

“Sir, please, just follow me” he insisted.

Rafe’s eyes met yours quickly as he was ushered away, afraid that he had ruined your night. “M’sorry baby, m’so sorry” he said quickly.

You tried to reassure him, shaking your head, “It’s okay, Rafe.”

“I’ll be right back, I promise” he said.

You worked your bottom lip nervously back and forth with your teeth as you watched him go before you became all too aware of the silence that surrounded you. As you brought your attention back to the party, you realized nearly every set of eyes was on you, watching you after what had just occurred. You felt the heat of their critical gaze, as every person formed their own thoughts about Rafe, about you, as they whispered amongst themselves. You tried to hold your head high as your chin began to quiver.

“Don’t give them the satisfaction” said a quiet voice over your shoulder. You turned to see Rose walking up beside you, her eyes glaring at the people around you, daring them to say something, to you or to her. One by one as she met their eyes they turned back to their conversations.

You swallowed your emotions. You had never spent much time with Rose, but now you were overwhelmingly grateful for her company, her support.

She turned her gaze on you as she took a sip of her champagne. “They’ll never understand” she said, “they think they do, but they don’t. They think they know everything” she paused, her eyes narrowing at a group of girls who were whispering nearby. They immediately stopped talking under her gaze and shuffled away. She returned her focus to you.

“They think we’re crazy, you and me. To be in love with men with such a capacity for anger, for violence. But what they fail to see is that these are the same men who won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done, for their families, for you, for me. They love and hate in equal measure. And nothing in this world compares to that kind of love, does it?” she asked, sipping her champagne again as she eyed you conspiratorially. You had never spent any time thinking about the fact that Rose Cameron might be the only person who knew exactly what it felt like to be you sometimes.

“Rafe is so much like his father,” she continued, “that’s why they’re always at each other’s throats, that’s why he’s the hardest on him. That’s also why I know exactly what’s going on in that boy’s mind when he looks at you…” she smiled, pausing. “You’ll find out soon enough that being Mrs. Cameron comes with a lot of attention, and a lot of perks” she added, winking. Your eyes widened in surprise as you glanced at her, did she know something you didn’t?

“If it isn’t blatantly obvious to them, it’s blatantly obvious to me that that boy would burn the world to the ground for you” she said shaking her head as she smiled. “Lucky girl” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek as she walked away.

Her words took a moment to sink in, but then you realized how right she was.

With your head held high you made your way past the remaining onlookers, and inside the clubhouse. You followed the reverberating sounds of raised voices to find Rafe arguing vehemently with two security guards. All three turned to look at you as you approached them.

“M’am” said one of the guards, nodding politely.

“Baby…” Rafe said as he looked at you, apology written all over his face. You smiled warmly at him, taking his hand in your own before turning to the security guards.

“We’re leaving” you said resolutely. One of them looked like he wanted to argue with and you put a hand up to stop him, cutting him off before he could start.

“We’re leaving and you better believe you will be hearing from Ward Cameron about how his son, his family was treated on the night dedicated to recognizing his contributions to this community. About how you let a member of the staff harass me and then deigned to humiliate Rafe when he tried to help. And I’m fine by the way, thank you for asking. Oh wait, you didn’t ask, did you? Stellar performance tonight, gentlemen” you said.

With that, you tucked your arm into Rafe’s and the two of you walked confidently through the front doors.

When you had made it outside, Rafe turned to look at you, glancing briefly back inside then to you again. “Holy shit” he said, “where the hell did that come from?” he was smiling widely at you, practically glowing with admiration, “and why was it so fucking hot?”

You shrugged casually before turning to face him, a proud smirk on your lips as you gripped the lapels of his jacket. “Someone reminded me just how lucky I am to have you, Rafe Cameron” you said, pressing a sincere but passionate kiss to his lips before continuing, “It’s not that I needed the reminder… it’s more that I needed to remind myself who I am, what I am when I’m with you.”

“And that is…?” he asked, pulling your body flush against his, his lips hovering just over yours as his eyes twinkled.

“Untouchable” you whispered, pressing your lips to his and squealing when he scooped you into his arms and walked you to his truck.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @softcoremaybank, @diary-of-jj, @m-indkiller, @one-sweet-gubler

#rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks rafe

885 notes · View notes

alonetimelover · 9 months

Text

...marry me?

pairing: Harry Styles x polish!reader

summary: Harry's drunk and YN is the angel that he dreamt of.

word count: 1,2k

masterlist

“Are you gonna be able to take him back home?” Gemma asked YN, concerned with Harry’s current… state.

“I think I’ll be good.” She smiled at her soon to be sister-in-law. “If not, I’ll call my cousin. He said he wanted to observe the stars tonight, so he won’t be asleep.”

“Okay. Take care and be careful. Bye, bye!” Gemma bidded YN goodbye with two kisses on both of her cheeks and, together with her long-term boyfriend, moved towards the Taxi.

It was well past 2 a.m. and the party was coming to an end. The younger part of the people staying with Harry and YN at their house, decided to go out and enjoy themselves in the city. Starting with late dinner at the coaster restaurant they moved to the heart of the city - to seek pubs with live music. Arriving at one, Harry caused quite the appeal - 'English Harry is back!’ - was shouted from behind the bar. A lovely older man - Sergio, the owner of the pub - greeted them warmly and announced that all drinks were on the house.

Tonight the band was playing blues and Harry was in love. With five drinks in his system (plus two glasses of wine he drank during dinner) Harry was drunk. And drunk Harry meant even more social, friendly and extroverted Harry.

With a glass in his hand, and a kiss lingering on his lips from his fiancee he moved to the band, promising to ‘just congratulate them’. Soon enough Harry forgot his drink on the nearby table and sat behind the piano, starting to improvise with the band. They found rhythm immediately and played for fifteen minutes non stop.

“I’ll order one more,” Harry screamed on his way from the piano to the bar, motioning to the now empty glass.

After that he got lost around people that seemed to be congratulating him on the performance. It all was a sight to see. A sight that YN wanted to look at for the rest of her life - content Harry.

When Gemma left the pub, YN made her way towards the bar, where Harry was sitting alone by the almost empty glass. Approaching him, she slowly placed her hand on his shoulder, causing his head to shoot up and confusingly look around. When finally found, Harry's eyes lit up. He straightened his back and dusted his linen shorts, cleaning his throat.

“Ciao,” he greeted her in italian, flirtatious smirk on his face. His eyes were bloodshot, pupils dilated, cheeks red and forehead with droplets of sweat. A sight of drunk Harry Styles. A state of ‘if he drank one more drink, he would be on the floor’.

“Ciao, caro.”

“Caro? Are you an angel? Wait! Don’t answer. You are. Renaissance angel, not biblical. Those were - pfff - freaky,” the last word he whispered, scrunching his eyebrows in disgust. “But you - oh lord - you are the most exquisite angel I’ve ever met.”

YN wanted to laugh, but bottled it up, putting her lips in a thin line - the corners daring to move up. Drunk Harry was the one to later tell tales to your relatives and friends - always unpredictable. She loved to engage with the world he seemed to be in those times.

“Come closer,” he once again whispered, motioning with a finger for her to bring nearer. “I actually met an angel once.”

“Did you?” She whispered just like him.

“I did! She - she looked just like you.” Harry came to the conclusion after looking at YN for a few seconds. “Maybe I’ve dreamt it? Did you come to my dreams?”

Harry then fell back into his chair, leaning back on it. The rest of his drink was now like waves hitting against the glasses’ edges. The look on his face told YN one thing - he was deep in his thoughts.

“You must have. There is no other way. I wouldn’t know your face, if you didn’t. Couldn’t forget your face. No, no I couldn’t. Too glorious to forget, too out of this world.” He was looking straight ahead, at the line of bottles behind the bar, but his eyes searched for the memories of that angel.

“Will you let the angel take you home?”

Harry shook his head, “no, no. I need to do something first. I need - I need to run!”

Before YN could say anything, Harry left the wad of money and ran out of the bar. She, as quickly as she could after all those drinks, ran after him.

“Harry! Harry!”

When she ran out to the street, she looked around, trying to figure out which turn she should take. On the right was him, jumping up and down with his hand held high, trying to pluck the flowers of the flowerpot outside somebody’s window. When he had five in his hand, some with roots and some with broken leaves, he jumped for the sixth. He didn’t, though, see that those broken leaves fell to the ground, making it much more slippery. The thing he felt was that his bottom hit the ground hard.

“Fuck!” He cursed, starting to move around, trying to get up.

“Harry, what in the world are you doing?”

Harry’s eyes shot up, “angel. Angel you - you were just in the pub!”

“I ran after you.”

“You, you ran after me?”

Harry accepted the hand YN was offering and leaning on it he sat on his heels. YN in the same position right in front of him.

“Of course I did, my love.” She caressed his cheeks with a smile. “I’ll always run after you.”

With hope in his eyes, sniffing, he placed a hand with the flowers in front of him. The colourful petals, a little bit beaten by the fall, were leaning to the sides.

“Angel,” he started slowly. “Marry me?”

YN’s eyes watered. She held up her right hand, showing the ring she received almost a year ago.

“No, no, no. You - you cannot,” Harry started rambling, shaking his head. “It’s - it can’t be. No, no, no.”

“Harry, Harry. It’s okay.”

“No, no, it’s not. Marry me? Please. Please, I’ll look after you. I’ll cherish you. I’ll love you.”

“Harry,” she tried one more time. “I dreamt of you too.”

He calmed instantly and gazed into her eyes.

“I dreamt of you and you, you asked me then. You gave me this ring. Look -” she took it off and placed it in his palm - “it has your initials inside, see?”

Harry inspected the ring carefully for a moment, squeezing his eyes trying to see better in a night’s lights. He caressed the engraved letters, a tiny smile showing on his gorgeous face.

“You said yes?”

“I did.”

“Angel will marry me?”

“Yes. Angel will be the happiest creature on earth to marry you.”

Harry not losing any more seconds closed the gap between their lips and connected them in a sweet but deep kiss. Simultaneously, he placed the ring back on YN’s finger, moving then his hands to the sides of her head. He ended the kiss with a loud - muah - and stared at her.

“You know that the angels don’t come to earth?”

“But I’ll be the happiest one regardless of that.”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #slavic!reader #polish!reader

505 notes · View notes

hangmanbrainrot · 1 year

Text

more than this

a/n: HI. Me again! After talking with @rosiahills22, I simply HAD to give this idea a whirl. I hope y’all enjoy! Reader’s callsign is Van Gogh (to be explained) and I don’t use Y/N. :) special thanks to @bradshawsbitch for the encouragement. :’)

warnings: so much mutual pining, dash of angst toward the end. Generally, all my posts are 18+ because I don’t want minors interacting with my page! Probably naval inaccuracies.

word count: 3975

summary: You and Jake have been best friends for years now… Why mess with a good thing?

pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader, Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader — callsign: Van Gogh

“Vee, you aren’t seriously wearing that to Family Day.”

You glanced down at your striped sleep pants and faded Navy t-shirt, then whirled around to look up at the oh so familiar source of the question. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, in the flesh. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt, jeans, and black leather-banded watch on his wrist. His signature toothpick was missing from its usual post between his lips.

“You clean up nice,” you retorted, ignoring his initial remark. “And I thought we agreed, no call signs today.”

You ‘tsk’ed at him and turned back toward your laundry basket, then bending to pick it up and hold it at your hip.

“You have one of the coolest callsigns, besides mine, of course. What’s wrong with Van Gogh?”

“I got it because I dropped my books and everyone saw all the doodles in the margins of my notes. And it doesn’t even make sense, because Van Gogh was a painter. At least yours has a cool story, I mean—”

He said your name, low and sweet, to cut you off. The two of you weren’t about to rehash that story again.

“Better.” This earned you a smile. “I told you, I’m not going this year. I’m just gonna hang out here, take advantage of the empty lounge, and chill.”

“And I told you, my mother demanded to see you. In fact, I’d dare say she’s more excited to see you than she is to see me.”

“Can you blame Mrs. Seresin for having taste?” you replied easily, the teasing lilt to your voice unmistakable as you flashed Jake a megawatt smile.

“I’m absolutely telling on you, when I see her. ‘Mrs. Seresin’ instead of Sandy, as requested.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you shot back, mock horror covering your features.

“Can, could, and would. Get dressed, Vee. Families will be here before you know it!”

The way that Jake departed after speaking let you know it wasn’t up for debate.

———————————————————————————————————

You heard Jamie and Courtney before you saw them, their familiar, slightly shrill voices carrying over the crowd of people all waiting for their own aviator to make an appearance. Jake’s older and younger sisters had always treated you like the additional sibling they’d never had, but on a day like today, it made your heart ache. You knew, of course, not everyone was lucky enough to find a kind family to adopt them the way the Seresins had adopted you. Even Robert Seresin himself — gruff as he was, he had a you-sized soft spot, much like his son. Though good luck getting either of the Seresin men to admit it.

You smiled as you spun on your heel, ready to retreat. Content to revel in the knowledge that you were loved, but too heavy-hearted to witness it today. You’d beat Jake here, somehow, so maybe you could slip out without his notice, either. Come up with some feeble story about suddenly coming down with a migraine, and nurse your ache alone, with your mounds of freshly laundered clothing, once you were sure he and his family had departed for the day.

But instead of proceeding forward, you collided with navy cotton and ginger and leather and… Jake. Had he always smelled this good?

“Hi, I was just,” you pushed out, before being interrupted. Why were you so nervous, all of a sudden? It was just Jake.

“Trying to ditch me. Darlin’, my feelings are hurt.” The tips of your ears burned red with embarrassment, even as your stomach did backflips over the way his accent thickened on the word ‘darlin’.’

“Sorry, Jake.” You didn’t even have the wherewithal to hide the giggle leaking into your words. But you were smart enough to play it off. “I was just going to get a jacket.”

“Vee, it’s July.”

“Yes, I do have a calendar and I can read!” Your eye roll was practically involuntary. “I just get cold sometimes in the AC.”

A lopsided grin slid onto his features while he aimed a pointer finger at himself. “Human furnace. Let’s go!”

Before you could protest, he was slinging an arm around your shoulders and all but crushing you into his side. “I think this outfit is much more appropriate for a trip off base.” It sounded like he was testing the compliment. And, truthfully, you liked this particular combination of white cap-sleeve blouse and jeans quite a bit yourself, too. But it was nice of him to notice. Then again, you couldn’t recall a time when Jake hadn’t noticed you, not since the beginning of your friendship. He was just always so checked in with you. Always so present. If you squinted, you could call it attentiveness.

“Jacob Michael Seresin, it is rude to keep your mother waiting! And where is — there she is, there’s my girl.”

Before either of you could inhale, a head of blond hair identical to Jake’s came bounding toward you, Sandra Seresin bundling you up in her arms like she hadn’t seen you in years, rather than the months it had been since the last time she had seen you via FaceTime.

You hugged Sandy a little tighter, as if you were afraid you would disappear if you let go. If it weren't for this woman and her family, holding onto you — in more ways than one — you often feared no one would remember you at all. No one to be on the receiving end of a phone call or a folded flag, if you didn't make it home one day. You would just… cease to exist. Quietly. Perhaps that was fitting, considering that was exactly how you lived your life.

You were your parents' only child, and they were gone. Well, your father was, anyway. Your mother never recovered after his sudden death, and had taken to self-medicating to ease the pain of his loss. Which, sure, you got, once you were old enough, but you were still small and new to the world, when the light that was your father went out. No one is ready to lose a parent they're close to, but certainly not when they're five. And it felt like you'd lost her, too, by the time you were 10. Moved out by the time you were 16. So, she wasn't gone, but there was no relationship to be had. You knew, of course, that if something did happen to you, they'd find her. But who would she be mourning? You had lived a whole life she knew nothing about; you had become an entirely new person. Someone she knew nothing about, but that the Seresins knew like the backs of their hands. Courtney was filling your hands with your favorite candy on the walk to the parking lot, and Jamie's kids were telling you about how they were doing in school.

Maybe someone, maybe a few someones would remember you. And fondly, you hoped.

At the height of the day, the sun was relentless, but as you walked beside Jake in the parking lot, you couldn't help noticing it made his hair the perfect shade of blond, and rendered his eyes the color of sea-glass.

"You know they just missed you," he chirped, misreading your expression and mistaking your melancholy for annoyance.

"No, no," you said softly. "It's nice to be missed. I just.."

"Today is hard," he finished your sentence matter-of-factly, and without any sort of air of pity. You heard, in its place, respect. He had no idea how you felt, but he'd always left space in your friendship for you to feel it. And, in true Jake fashion, he'd tried to fix it, by introducing you to his family, all those years ago, now. You'd only known each other a few months, then. But he didn't want you to be alone. And, the truth was, you hadn't been. Not since the moment you met him. All you ever felt when you were with Jake was ease. Comfort.

Your hand found Jake’s without thinking, eyes burning with unshed tears. “You’re my best friend, Jake. And I will not hesitate to kick your ass if you tell anyone how soft I got.”

You glanced over at Jake just in time to watch an unreadable emotion cloud his expression. Before you had time to think it over, he was squeezing your hand. “I’ll always keep all your secrets, Vee. Including that you prefer green Jolly Ranchers, even though blue are clearly superior.”

—————

The Seresins took you and Jake to a small diner off base, and it was today that you learned it was Jake’s favorite. You all sat in a booth toward the back, bunched up together in the cushioned semi-circle bench. Jake’s warm thigh brushed against yours, and you’d be lying if you didn’t notice the jolt that went through you, every time those thick cords of muscle pressed against you when he laughed, or when he reached forward to grasp one of the menus wedged between the matching salt and pepper shakers on the table.

With an arm lazily draped on the booth behind you, fingers loosely grazing your shoulder every so soften, Jake opened a menu for you to share.

“Well, what do you think, darlin’?”

“How did I not know this was your favorite place?” You asked, ignoring the question he was obviously asking you.

But he indulged you. “This was the first year I actually convinced you to come with us.”

“Convinced? I felt slightly bullied, Seresin.” You grinned, in spite of yourself.

“Forgive me for wanting to spend a little time with you, darlin’.” He sounded almost coy. You glanced up at him, at the same time he looked over at you, and found that ‘butterflies’ were an understatement for what that look was currently doing to your insides. It felt like a cross between adoration and desire, but what was even wilder was that Jake’s expression seemed to mirror your own — which was absurd because it was Jake. Jake, who always made sure you never got left behind; Jake, who sometimes pulled his punches with you when he was ragging on you over the comms. Yeah, that Jake, your Jake was looking at you like… that?

But then you heard Jake’s dad clear his throat from across the table and you and Jake glanced up like you’d been caught doing something far less innocuous. Your mind worked overtime trying to decipher what just happened here but the moment flickered and burnt out before you, and the conversation moved on like a film unpaused.

Despite the fact that his entire family was here, it felt like Jake couldn’t bear to take his eyes off you for a moment, not that you were complaining. And it was something his mother noticed, too.

“So, between the two of you, who do you think is the better pilot?” Courtney teased, a mischievous glint visible in the hazel of her irises.

But then Jake said your name at the same time you said his, causing you both to turn to each other in surprise, mouths agape.

“Stop being modest,” he accused, almost immediately. Part of you wanted to make special note of this moment, record it somehow. So that the next time Jake decided to have a pissing contest with some other pilot, you could chime in and remind him it didn’t matter, since he thought you were the best anyway. You went to shove at his chest, but your hand — and your heart — stuttered with you made contact. He was so solid. Just firm muscle and warm skin. When your gaze dared drift upward, he was blushing. Your comment, voicing the observation, would die on your lips, as your server returned to the table with a tray full of milkshakes. Leave it to Jamie to secure dessert when you weren’t looking.

—————

When the meal had run its course and everyone was preparing for the trip back to base, you couldn’t help but hang back a little bit, just to take it all in. Jake was indulging Courtney in one of those rare, long bear hugs, while Jamie and his mother ran off to the bathroom, and his dad made small talk with another patron seated at the diner’s counter. In spite of your resistance, this family had yanked you, kicking and screaming, into their lives. Whether you’d found them or they’d found you didn’t matter, what mattered was the moment unfolding before you. You wished you could wrap it around you and let it warm you from the inside out.

You weren’t sure when Jake had released Courtney to return to your side, or when the rest of his family had filtered out the diner’s front doors, so you jumped when you heard his voice from beside you.

“You okay, sugar?” He was close enough that you could smell the tang of his cologne — softer than before, but still present — and feel the body heat rolling off of him in waves. You practically ached with the desire to move, to be touching him in some way, and the ferocious way this feeling roared to life within you startled you. Instead of giving in to that yearning to touch, you spun around and put some distance between you, eyes trained on him. You were desperate to find out what had changed, but when you gazed into Jake’s eyes. You just saw him, you just felt him. Nothing else had changed. But maybe nothing had needed to. High stakes situations meant you were constantly filtering out your emotions: keep, alter, discard; keep, alter, discard. You rifled through feelings often before you took a breath. It felt silly to question whether or not you’d simply overlooked or ignored your feelings for your best friend all along, but what else could be true? It wasn’t the way you felt about him that was new; no, it was the sudden impulse to do something about it that felt like an unscratchable itch.

You took a nearly imperceptible step closer, and Jake mirrored your actions. He said your name softly, cautiously.

But then, from behind: “Hey, is everybody else outside?”

Jamie’s voice was like cold water to the face. Still, you nodded, regaining the distance between yourself and Jake. You blinked a few times, as if you were hitting some sort of invisible reset button in your mind.

Keep, alter, discard.

You were silent, the entire ride back to base. You went through the motions of ‘see-you-next-time’’s and ‘take-care’’s, and stood in the parking lot until Robert’s truck was completely out of view.

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled, without looking up at Jake, then spinning on your heels to head back inside. There was still enough of the day that you could get your laundry done if you headed straight in and got to work, you just had to —

Jake’s hand on your wrist stopped you in your tracks. Your skin was tingling where his fingers were wrapped around you. Jaw set, you clenched, mouth forming a straight line. You were back on base now; you were back to being naval aviators. There wasn’t any room for these silly little schoolgirl feelings Jake inspired in you. You didn’t get to twirl your hair and bat your eyelashes and fall head over heels for your best friend. Instead, you got to linger somewhere painfully between ‘duty bound’ and ‘already in over your head.’

“What is it, Jake?” You hadn’t yet turned to face him, and that was an offense he didn’t take lightly to; though instead of waiting for you to rectify the situation, he does so himself. It was so very like him.

“Look at me, please.” The raw edge to his voice startled you into compliance.

You turned and regretted it immediately.

“What did I do?” His eyes were so soft, so entirely unguarded. A fear you didn’t recognize was plain on his face. “How can I fix it?”

“It’s nothing, Jake.”

But he was not convinced by your sighed syllables. “That’s bullshit.” Even the way he spoke was gentle, like he was afraid you’d evaporate from the sheer force of his words if he spoke too loudly.

“Something changed, after lunch, something… Something happened,” he continued. “Did Jamie say something to you? Court?”

A short burst of laughter punched out of you, but it sounded colder than you imagined, and Jake stepped back like you’d slapped him. Fear was replaced by irritation. You recognized that particular crease in his brow, but you resolved that this was good. Maybe he needed to hate you a little, so you could get over whatever was most definitely not happening here.

“What?” You laughed again, though this time it sounded more forced than before. “Did you expect me to go all weak-kneed because you saved me, Jake? Showed me what a real family was like? Would you like me to grovel with gratitude now, or can I save that for later?”

And you regretted the words the moment you said them, instantly spiraling. It was vicious and careless, but a low enough blow that it would end things — it would fix things, once and for all. But then that feeling from earlier returned, that burning at the back of your throat and the sting in your eyes. You understood now that what you were feeling was loss; you were preparing for the loss of your best friend. Prematurely, perhaps, but if you knew Jake at all, you knew it wasn’t that premature. He let the others think he was a jerk and a blowhard but, to you, he admitted to the real softness of his heart. The purity of it. It was you he sat beside, shaking with worry after Phoenix and Bob went down after a bird strike. You, he called when his niece got a case of the flu so bad she was hospitalized and he couldn’t see her. You, he pleaded with for help when he’d mouthed off too much in class and was pretty sure everyone hated him now. You knew everything he did was so startlingly fucking earnest. To question how genuine he was, to question his integrity, was the kind of wound that could only be delivered intimately. And you had done it so very well. A real stab and twist.

You mumbled an apology, just desperate to escape Jake and that angry, but somehow still pleading look in his eyes. It was when your back was turned that Jake finally spoke.

“God, I have to be so fucking stupid.”

“Jake, don’t,” you said, stilled but not turning back around. Your pride wouldn’t let him see you cry.

“No, I must be. I must be a complete fucking idiot to have misread all the signs that you… That we want the same thing.”

You didn’t dare speak at first; you couldn’t. And then, when you did, the ragged nature of your breathing startled even you. “And what is it that you think we both want?”

“More than this, Vee!” He sounded exasperated, and you didn’t need to face him to know that Jake had run a frustrated hand through his hair. “More than tiptoeing around each other and how we feel about each other, and trying to pretend like, like…”

“Trying to pretend like what?” The words ripped out of you like a sob and you couldn’t will yourself to be still anymore. Your body angled toward his like you were fucking magnetized.

“Trying to pretend like I am not in love with you.”

The words landed like lead around you, and you had to bite back a sob. When that wasn’t enough to muffle the sound, you slapped a palm to your mouth.

He had done it. He had taken that big thing, wrestled it into submission, and then laid it bare in front of you. But, more than that, he’d laid himself bare in front of you. He was more naked now than he’d ever been in any locker room. This was Jake at his most honest.

And you could feel yourself teetering so dangerously on the edge of giving in. Your breaths heaved in and out of you with great effort.

What if you ruined this? What if he left you? What if, what if, what if…

God, but what if you didn’t? What if, for once, something just fucking worked out, and someone just stayed? If there was anyone in your life who was capable of staying, wouldn’t it be Jake? Who else could it be?

Your resolve was so thin, so fragile; when you finally spoke, it was: “Jake, I’m scared.”

He took a step toward you. He could’ve closed the gap between your bodies in a singular stride, but he was giving you an out. One last chance to walk away. You remained anchored to your spot on the pavement. When he took the final step toward you, he had a palm raised to frame your face — he was shaking, but he rested his forehead against yours, too. And that was Jake, in a nutshell. Scared, but pushing forward. It was one of the things you admired, one of the things you loved most about him.

“Don’t be scared, Vee.” The plea was soft, softer than a prayer. “Don’t be scared. Whatever there is to figure out, we’ll figure it out together. We can make this work.”

“And if we can’t?”

“We’ll figure that out together, too.”

Even as your every survival instinct was telling you not to, even as all you wanted to do was run, you leaned in. The kiss was a little clumsy — he hadn’t been ready, you were too nervous. But then your hand found purchase against his chest, and one of his at your hip. And then you were practically tugging each other closer; your lips fitting together more seamlessly. How had you held out this long? How had you deprived yourself of this?

Jake retracted, eyes wild and bright when he looked at you. As his lips sloped into a grin, you knew something was coming.

“Ma’am, I’m not sure if you heard me, but…”

“Oh, you mean your little love confession?” you reveled in the flush that crept up his neck and the laugh that fled your now kiss-swollen lips as a result.

Though realization seemed to darken his expression, and his eyes left yours. The loss was one you felt immediately.

“What?”

Jake must have felt the tension begin to seep into your body, because his thumb began to press slow, soothing circles against your hip.

“Vee, I know you don’t need me to save you. You have never needed to be saved by anyone.” His brow furrowed a moment, and the hand still cradling your face dropped to meet the other at your hips. “But if you want to be… If you want someone else to help you carry all that weight on your shoulders. Well, that would be okay, too, alright?”

You weren’t certain, but when Jake met your gaze once again, you were almost positive there were tears welling in his eyes. The sight of his vulnerability rendered you speechless, so you nodded mutely, then managed a small ‘okay.’ It was instinctive for you to rest your forehead against Jake’s chest and allow his arms to envelope you in his embrace. More so than ever before.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you had been standing there when you finally spoke up again. “Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I love you.”

He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. Instead, he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and tightened his arms around you. And maybe, just maybe, you thought… this wouldn’t be so bad. Whether it was 20 minutes or 20 years, you wanted as much of Jake as he was willing and able to give.

Keep, alter, discard? You were definitely keeping this feeling.

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman angst #hangman fluff

2K notes · View notes

quecksilvereyes · 1 year

Text

oh, sister, I am sorry. your eyes are sunken and your skin is bruised. your lips are chapped, your nailbeds bitten raw. your husband's hand on your waist is a ghost's touch held by the band on your left ring finger and I-

I am dead.

I got on the train, Su. Nevermind your tears, nevermind the plea you could not shape with words, nevermind your fingers on the pulse point of my wrist. "stay", you'd said, as you have always done, dictionary in hand and baby teeth yet lodged in your jaw. "don't go where i cannot."

I step through a wardrobe and you follow, damned be reason. I slay a wolf and you follow, I cling to the little ones and you follow, I am crowned and you follow, I am-

I go past a lamp post, and you follow, damned be dread. I go to a train station and you follow, trembling hands and tender heart. I go, and I go, and I go, and you follow. Sun of my skies. Light of my life.

I go. you stop.

are we too old for stories, now? ten-and-four and ten-and-three, budding bodies and steel bones, we are cast from our home. i hold the little ones until i drown in them. you grip your skirts until no iron can press the shape of your palms from them. and you have ever been, cruelly reasonable and logically callous.

say you, glass shard eyes and rouge-red lips: we are english. we are children. she thinks she has found a magical land in the upstairs wardrobe.

say I, trembling hands and coiling guts: we are narnian. we are monarchs. if she's not mad and she's not lying, then logically she must be telling the truth.

my sister Susan, beautiful as folk tales are and twice as sharp, did you intend every invitation you took for me to twist the knife a godly animal once thrust into my guts? perhaps it was the way your eyes turned blue, or the sound of your laughter losing its bells. perhaps it was just my trembling fingers at the back of your legs, drawing stocking lines where no stockings had ever lain.

the line came out shaking, and you rubbed it off until your skin cried red. the hem of your dress still dripped wet when you left that day, turning on heels too narrow for you to walk in.

do you remember? it took you days to come home, and mother wailed for all of them. you crawled into my bed that night, as you did when we were parents to our little ones, those terrible months. your head on my shoulder, your breath in my ear, I held you until morning.

your mouth in my throat, eyes heavy with sleep, tongue heavy with champagne: we are here now. we must make the best of it. he cannot have all our lives, and all our joys. i wish you would laugh again.

doesn't little lucy, shrieking mouth and tumbling legs, laugh enough for us all?

lucy's manic. if she didn't laugh she'd cry.

i think sometimes, in the parts of my guts that are still a schoolboy, and are mean and cruel to match, that the alcohol makes you softer than the daylight ever could. i do not tell you.

i press my lips to your forehead. i wrap my arms around you. the year between us rings heavy, and when I get up in the morning, you do not follow.

I tried, Su. I did. I applied for university, I saw that girl with that smile. with those eyes. I let you take sections from the paper before I ever touched it, I held the little ones in my arms, and I made coffee in the morning. I sat all my exams.

I smiled when the little ones came back smelling of home.

Aslan's wounds, did I try. but-

I have ever been a thing made for stories. brave the way knights are, bloody knuckles and buckling pride. a horse between my calves, a sword in my hands.

I think, sometimes, that I was born for my sword, for the hollow ringing of my heart when I first held it. a part of me, even then, ten-and-three and soaked to the bone.

such bravery is not made for real world boys and real world taunts. there is a map, I think, from the summits of my knuckles to the jaws of every boy who ever looked at me and bared his teeth.

I am sovereign. I am the skies for your sun to burn in.

I am made wrong, for this england, and I cannot take this life you want. I belong, I think, into myths and legend, the star-studded shards of our home.

so I went on the train, Susan. so I died, and I named what you have chosen. so I banned you from their scorning mouths. so you grip your husband's hand, realest of us all, and you cry. you do not follow.

Forgive me.

610 notes · View notes

kittyball23 · 5 months

Text

Number Six (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: After learning of Branch’s four brothers, a Troll hatches a plan against BroZone’s youngest member. What he DIDN'T anticipate was for it to be thwarted so quickly

A/N: I have nothing more to say other than this is meant to be ridiculous

__________________________________________

Creek couldn’t deny a good performance when he saw one.

If the vocals were down, the dancing was on point, and the charisma was there, then there was no way that he couldn’t award the song with a hearty round of applause.

Even if he wasn’t too fond of the performers themselves.

More specifically, the blue-haired Troll who’d carried much of the song through.

It was no secret to anyone in Pop Village (and even the neighboring tribes) of the ugly history between him and Branch. Creek was not the kind to showcase his resentments - as his mantra of inner-peace and full-centeredness were still at the core of his personal beliefs - but it did not mean that there was still that green-eyed monster lingering within, its gaze fixated primarily on the pink Pop Queen of whom he was not on fair terms with either. The one who’d perused her romantic ventures with Branch instead of him.

So while Creek’s applause for the show was actually rather genuine, the smile he’d plastered on his face was anything but. A good song was not going to be enough to change the way he felt about Branch. With narrowed eyes, he took a better look at the other performers on the stage with him – four other Trolls who, in a surprising turn of events, were actually the Troll’s brothers. The conscious in his brain was fuming – as if one Branch wasn’t enough… now, there were four others! Each one the same tealish-blue shade, with faces that made expressions that looked awfully similar to that of the youngest in their bunch. But, Creek suddenly thought with a sort of sneer, maybe this situation wasn’t at a complete loss. If they were indeed his brothers, then surely they wouldn’t know about the more recent happenings of Pop Village, given that they’d long left the town years before. Perhaps, he thought, he could leave a good enough impression on the four to potentially even befriend them, though not for the purpose of actually wanting to gain an acquaintance out of them. Using their friendship to get on��Branch’s nerves, on the other hand, had a much more satisfying sound to it.

So satisfying, he thought, that he wasted no time initiating the plan.

“Bravo, bravo, well done, mates! I do say, a wonderful performance indeed,” Creek complimented once he was able to get through the mass of crowd that was surrounding the band. “A real showstopper indeed, spectacular job, Branch!”

Branch rolled his eyes and sighed. “Creek,” he said formally, crossing his arms.

John Dory cocked his head. “This guy another one of your friends?” he asked.

Bruce, Clay and Floyd exchanged a look, like, Don’t tell me you were in yet ANOTHER other boyband, too, little bro!

“I suppose you could say that,” Creek replied, a smug little smile adorning his face.

Poppy crossed her arms and scoffed. “No you can’t.”

Creek glared at her, but then chuckled. “Oh, always with the jokes, aren’t ya, princess?”

Viva sidled up next to Poppy, crossing her arms. “Hey, mister, my little sister is the queen. So show her some respect!”

“Sister,” Creek repeated, pondering, eying the golden-curled Troll. “Right. So tell me, what does that make you then, hmm?”

Viva suddenly realized she didn’t have an answer for that. On a technicality, she was the one originally intended to be Queen. But, in that case, did that make her a princess now? Or something else?

Creek took advantage of her confused silence and carried on. “As I was saying,” he said, addressing BroZone, “I’ll have you know that I was like a brother to Branch, looking out for him during those years in which he found himself gray and alone…”

“Hmph,” Branch snorted. “Right, looked after me so well that you didn’t think twice about letting me and the rest of Pop Village get eaten by Bergens!”

Clay’s eyes widened. “Whoa, whoa, hold up, what was that now?”

“Branch, you and everybody else would’ve died with a clear conscience, yeah? I was the one who made that possible. I made sure that you had no regrets going into that pot. And that is indeed ‘looking out’ don’t you think?”

“Uh… doesn’t sound much like it to me,” Bruce countered, narrowing his eyes at Creek.

“Ah, big boy, come on. I know you got more brain than brawn on you,” he said, gesturing at Bruce’s belly judgmentally. Then he moved to Floyd, still with that smug smile on his face. “Surely you understand. I must say, your fashion taste is on point. I always thought vests were overrated!”

“Umm…” Floyd said, unsure of whether to say thanks or not, and feeling rather uncomfortable.

“Ay, man, we all gotta flex the drip somehow,” Clay grumbled defensively.

Creek raised a brow at him and huffed. “Right, says the Troll in a onesie.”

Clay’s jaw dropped. How dare he call his very professional sweater-romper a onesie!

“There really are no hard feelings, my friends,” the mauve Troll stated confidently.

Friends? Bruce mouthed to Clay, who rolled his eyes. It had been only a minute or two of meeting this guy, and already they could tell there was something off between him and Branch. And defense-mode was just about to kick in.

“Why, folks could even consider me the 6th BroZone brother!” Creek pulled out an orange vest from curled greenish-blue hair and slipped it on, striking a pose. “Whaddya say, mates? Have room for one more member?”

“Ugh, are you kidding me?!” Poppy cried, unable to stop herself from blurting out. She’d had enough of this nonsense. Creek was being ridiculous!

“I didn’t ask your opinion,” he hissed at her, offering a smile at Branch and the brothers. “Come on, yeah? We’ll make a band-acious team!”

“Bro-dacious,” John Dory mumbled under his breath. He, Bruce, Clay, and Floyd exchanged a look. Then, a sly smile grew on each of the four Trolls’ faces as they turned back to him.

“All right,” Bruce said. “You can join us.”

“WHAT?!” Poppy and Viva shouted at the same time. The sisters gawked at each other, unable to believe that Branch’s brothers were really buying into this!

“But first,” Clay added, “we need to do a little, um, how you say…”

“Initiation,” Floyd finished.

Creek put up a hand. “Of course, I’d be happy to - whoaoah, hey!” The mauve Troll cut himself off midsentence when he suddenly felt himself being lifted up off the ground, four sets of arms grabbing him firmly as he protested to be let go. But maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. As he’d wished, they let him go alright - right into the lazy river!

“ACK!” he exclaimed as the cold water splashed around him and he flailed his arms.

Branch, his brothers, Poppy, and Viva all laughed hysterically from the result.

“Haha! That’s what you get for being a poser!” Clay shouted.

“Yeah! What he said!” Viva agreed.

“And a big phony!” Poppy chimed in.

“You stay away from our little bro, ya hear?” John Dory shouted to him.

“And us!” Bruce and Floyd said at the same time.

Branch was the only one who did not reply. He stood there, thrilled that the tables had been turned, and giving Creek a taste of his own medicine with the smug smile that had sprawled across his face.

“Um, Branch, who was that guy anyway?” Floyd queried.

“Right?” Viva scoffed. “What a hairball!” Suddenly she covered her mouth, blushing over the language she’d used.

Branch and Poppy exchanged a look, answering simultaneously with sighs.

“Oh, it’s a long story…”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #dreamworks #branch trolls #poppy trolls #viva trolls #brozone #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #creek trolls #alternate universe #silly #fanfiction #kittyball writes #100+

297 notes · View notes

fandomnerd9602 · 3 days

Text

Square Dance: Two Step

Country!Wanda x Male!Reader

It all started when your best friend Pietro ‘Piet’ Maximoff invited you to leave the city for a week. He saw how much city life and work was wearing you down, how much you needed a detox from all of the stress and anxiety.

He picked you up in his pick up truck from your apartment on a Sunday morning. Piet was a track star in college, full ride, and your best friend / roommate. Now he works as a mechanic in his home town. He never really talked about home but he loved it.

“I promise, pal” your Southern accented friend told you, “you’re gonna love it. I’m taking you to the best watering hole in the area tonight.”

“Are you still trying to get me to settle down?” You laughed.

“I just wanna see my bud happy. A little tail can help that” he gives you a playful wink.

First things first he helped you drop off your stuff at the guest room in his modest two story homestead. “Sorry I can’t give you the master bedroom” he chuckled, “my traveling sister came back to town, she called dibs”

“I don’t mind.” You said with a shrug, “your sis deserves it” You never met Piet’s sister but you did know about their constant teasing due to having seen their text exchanges.

“Come on, bud” he said practically pulling you out the door. “Let’s live a little!”

You and Piet made your way to the local watering hole and dance hall. Didn’t take long for Piet to make the rounds and chat up a couple people.

“Does Crystal approve of you being here?” you asked your pal with a laugh.

“Speak of the angel and she’ll appear” he responded as his longtime girlfriend made her way towards the two of you. Didn’t take long for Piet and her to go to the dance floor.

The band took to the small stage a second later. The announcer made his way to the microphone.

“Evening fellas, ladies, please give a nice warm applause to our guest singer the Good Witch, Scarlett.”

And with that introduction, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen made her way to the microphone. Her confidence, the sort of kind way she carried herself, it made your heart beat fast.

“Howdy everyone” she said with a southern twang. “Glad to see so many familiar faces in the audience…”

Her eyes locked with yours. Her eyes looked at you with pure adoration. A small smile made its way across her face.

“And so new faces too” she gave you a little wink, “so let’s start shall we?”

Her keyboardist began playing a simple melody:

(Can Love Stand the Test - Don Henley & Bonnie Raitt)

Did I lose your love a long time ago

Or did I just wear it out? Baby, I don't know

Seems like anymore we're not on the same page

In the same book, or on the same stage

We say the words, but they feel all wrong

Like a happy blues, like a sad love song

How two people can bow and scrape

For every shred of tenderness

Can love stand the test

Of times that surround us

Memories that astound us

Joy and happiness

Can love stand the test?

Her eyes were locked on you. Did she feel some sort of connection to you, as you could feel with her? You hadn’t spoken a word and yet it was like you knew her somehow.

We said forever, for always, for good

But the years were not impressed

Can love stand the test

Of time that surrounds us

Moments that astound us?

Can love stand the test

Of time that surrounds us

Moments that astound us?

Joy and happiness

The audience cheered as the song ended. The mystery singer offered a humble little bow. “Alright” she said with a giggle, “who’s ready for a little square dancing, huh?” The crowd cheered and began asking for their own partners as the singer got off the stage and began making her own way towards you. Everyone else faded away, it was like it was only you and her in that entire watering hole.

“Howdy there” she flashed a gentle smile at you

“H-Howdy” you managed to answer back.

“You’re not from around here are ya?” her twang just made your heart flutter.

“No. I’m in town for a couple days”

“Well City Boy” she gave a little twirl in her hips, “do you wanna dance?”

“I-I got like two left feet” you said with a little embarrassment. She only giggled in response and took your hands.

“Don’t worry” she reassured you, “just follow my lead”

You and this amazing gal danced a couple square dances together that night. Time seemed to blur, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper into what felt like love. You could spend an eternity on that dance floor with her and it wouldn’t feel like enough time with her.

The way she smiled those pearly whites at you. The way her reddish brown hair bounced. The way she looked at you with those emerald green eyes that made your heart beat practically out of your chest. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about someone so fast.

Sadly the song came to an end. She offered you a quick bow and a tip of her own hat to you. “Ya know” she smiled at you, “you sure can dance, city boy”

“You’re not too bad yourself, ma’am” you complimented her back.

“How long you in town for?” She drew a little closer to you.

“A week, maybe a little longer”

“That’s an awful long time” she wrapped her arms around your neck, yours wrapped around her waist.

“M-my name’s Y/N”

She offered a gentle, sincere smile, “my name’s-”

“Wanda?” Piet spoke up, staring in shock at you and the gal before you. She gave a slightly embarrassed tip of the hat to Piet.

“Hey bro” Wanda said to Piet

“I see you met my bud Y/N” Piet said.

“He’s a great dancer” she answered back, giving you a gentle smile.

Part of you was horrified. Another part of you was on cloud nine. Your life was supposed to be structured, not on a whim. And yet here you were. Not only had you fallen in love on your first night out of the city, you had fallen for your best friend’s sister.

To Be Continued…

Tags: @lifespectator @aloneodi @deafeningsharkslimeempath @iamnicodemus @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff imagine #country Wanda #country girl #country girl x reader #country x city #male reader #wanda maximoff x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n

121 notes · View notes

phoebepheebsphibs · 1 month

Text

If we turn left enough times, we'll have gone in a circle.... and end up right back where we started.

@boots-with-the-fur-club @daboyau @littlemissartemisia @thevoidbrothers @noval1t (I hope they don't mind I added their characters into the story for special guest appearance 👉👈)

CW: fight scenes, blood/ichor, panic attacks, slight body horror, hallucinations, abuse, experimentation, surgery, torture... cardiac arrest and character death

(It's a really long one. I am so sorry in advance lol)

Also, just for clarification: UIFY = Until I Found You NFIF = No Fun in Fungus DvD = Donatello Von Draxum 'Phael = Raphael Jurogumo

Prev || Next || Illustration

Misa waddled along the corridors of the arena as she retraced her steps. She couldn't recall exactly where she'd left the portal sword, but she knew it was in the area... Her families were counting on her. Her older little brothers and sister April needed her help! And she was so excited to help them and prove Lee-Lee wrong about her being "just a little kid". She wasn't little! She was 4 years old! That was so grown up and big, she could do all sorts of things by herself... If she could only find her sword. She'd show him just how big she was!

Out of the blue, a familiar floating sensation took her and she watched with surprise as she was lifted up high into the rafters. Misa squealed with delight.

"Up, up!"

Waves smiled at her, returning her laughter with chirps and giggles of his own.

"Are you going to keep playing with your food, or what?"

Misa watched as a splash of pitch created another figure -- a version of Donatello but entirely grayscale -- formed in the rafters next to them.

Waves turned to look at his brother with a great big smile on his face, his eyes empty and black as he stared at Signal. He hissed a warning. Misa is off-limits.

"Fine. Just didn't see the point in wasting such a sweet little snack."

Waves hissed at him again before nuzzling his face into Misa's. She giggled with glee. These brothers didn't scare her. Waves might seem spooky, but deep down he was a silly little sweetheart and she adored him. Especially when he would pick her up and fly around with her.

"What exactly is the little Artemisia doing way out here all by herself?" Signal asked, leaning in close to her tiny face.

"Getting sword for my family!" she explained.

"Ah, weaponizing children now, are we? I think Static was handing out medieval swords and maces earlier..."

"Did somebody say 'best void brother'?" came a glitchy voice as another void brother appeared.

"It's like he's Beetlejuice or something..." Signal growled.

"I just thought the little lady might like this," Static stated smugly as he handed Misa her retrieved portal sword. He'd found it for her!

Misa cheered happily as she brandished the weapon, the blade glinting in the light and reflecting her image like a mirror.

"What's going on up here?" a fourth and final voice boomed. Radio slowly emerged from the shadows of the rafter corners. "Static, you're not giving minors weapons again, are you?"

"How did you even get up here?" Signal asked incredulously. "You're practically the size of a dump truck, how can you even fit in these rafters?"

"Call me that again and I'll flatten you like a dump truck."

"Just worried for the structural integrity of the building, is all..." Signal sassed back.

Radio rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the others, specifically Static, who still owed Radio an answer.

"I wasn't handing out weapons, I was retrieving it. It already belonged to her!"

Radio's eyes shifted from Static to Misa, who nodded her head as Waves shook his (he wanted to get Static in trouble as a joke).

"Why would a little thing like you need a sword?" he asked cautiously.

"Family needs help! Misa gets her sword for them!" she explained. "Bad spores!"

"Your family? You mean that band of misfits and the anxiety-riddled shroomie teens?"

Waves nodded for her. Misa didn't really understand what shroomie meant. Radio scratched his chin as he considered the situation. He knew that there was an outbreak of fear spores going on, and the two AU teams had been working to find and destroy them. It wasn't looking good thus far. Even Signal had gotten spored, and though he wouldn't admit it... they knew it wasn't a pleasant experience for him. Radio couldn't say he was an expert on mushrooms, but he knew a thing or two about invasive beings and decay. And if that fungus was as bad as everyone was making it out to be, then it could mean disaster for every AU in this place.

"...I don't suppose we could be of any help?"

Donatello howled with maniacal laughter.

His prisoners watched with fear as he ordered the vines to wrap around Michelangelo like ropes, tying his arms to his sides and keeping a very strong grip around his throat just in case anyone got any funny ideas. DvD was screaming bloody murder and promising every kind of painful demise if Audrey III didn't release his baby brother immediately. But he could see the tears in his eyes, he could hear the panic and utter fear.

Oh god, the fear was delicious. He wanted more...

Raphael struggled against the odd vines that had sprouted from Donnie's shell, as he brought him closer towards the room where Leo and the others were. The vines were an amalgamation creation -- partially machine, partially Dee's ninpo, and partially... Raph could only assume it was the mushroom. Had it been growing inside of his shell?? He desperately tried to free himself from the terrible growth. He managed to get one arm out --

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, what are we trying here?" the plant asked through Donnie, smirking down at Raph and commanding several other vines to take ahold of his arms and pull, stretching him out in every direction as he yelled in pained protests. "You didn't really think you could get out that easy, did you?"

Raph grunted and growled as he fought against the vines.

"Donnie!! SNAP OUTTA IT! I know you like to play the mad scientist sometimes, but this is TAKING IT TOO FAR!!"

"I'll tell him you said that," Audrey III smirked. "He's on sabbatical right now, but I'm sure the message can get through... eventually."

Raph screamed in anger as hot tears streaked down his face.

"But in the meantime, I think I'd like to taste your fear again..."

The door behind them opened, and out came a stream of blue fog, followed by the Hand.PNG, which crawled up the vines and onto Donnie's shoulder like a spider.

"Let's invite our dear friends to dinner, shall we?"

The vines began to drag Micheal and Raph into the room.

DvD began to screech like a monster, the muscles in his arms tensing and flexing against the vines and finally breaking their hold. He ran towards the wall, screaming in fury as he spun the tech-bō and leapt. They would not take his brother.

A spark of light ignited in his eyes.

It spread across his body.

The light burst like flame at the end of his staff.

All eyes watched him in shock as he shouted a war cry and slammed the tech-bō into the wall Dee had created earlier.

It shattered completely.

A shockwave burst from the impact and threw everyone back, dissolving the vines that held everyone.

Mikey's limp body fell.

DvD rushed to catch him. He almost made it when Donnie/Audrey III stepped in front of him and kicked him back with one of his mechanical arms. The battle-shell-clad ninja crawled up the side of the wall and grabbed the child before he could hit the ground. Mikey's head bobbed, and he groaned in discomfort at having been thrown around like a rag doll.

"You duplicitous little --! HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!" Audrey III spat angrily.

In all honesty, DvD had no idea what he'd just done or how he'd done it. All he knew was that he needed to protect Mikey at all costs. And then the wall broke. In his shocked stupor, he failed to get up in time and suddenly found a new vine wrapping around his neck like a boa constrictor and tightening like a noose.

Mikey's eyelids fluttered.

Donnie/Audrey III brought the alt. version of himself close to his face.

"YOU HAVE NO MAGIC, YOU YOURSELF TOLD HIM THAT! YOU LYING LITTLE --" Donnie's eyes peered into DvD's as he choked. "...Perhaps you are more interesting than you let on. Shall we see what else is in your silly little head, my dear anarchist?"

Donnie gasped for air, kicking and clawing at his captor as he tried to free himself. He... he was blacking out...

Mikey's eyes burst open.

He screamed as loudly as he could, his entire body erupting into gold and amber light, blinding the entire corridor.

A shrieking sound came from the dark room. The door slammed shut.

Donatello turned around in shock, as a torrent of chains burst from the boy, two for each vine he'd created.

Oh. Now we play.

He'd seen this from the boy before; he'd been rooting around in his mind and saw the memories from the last time. He knew the child was afraid of these powers, he couldn't control them very well. Especially the really strong spells like this. He knew how this scene played out. He just had to either wait him out to spend himself dry -- or let him do what the previous poor, sweet Michelangelo had done, and turn himself into a monster. Either would work...

Mikey held his hand out. A series of chains came and sliced the vine choking out his brother. DvD fell to the floor, quickly caught by the chains -- which also grabbed NFIF Raphael -- and carried them away to the others who watched in utter shock as the child landed on the ground and summoned his mystic nunchucks.

"Well, well, well... look who finally woke up."

Mikey's eyes were wide and glowed burning gold. He said nothing, his face empty, devoid of expression. Mikey was not at home anymore, he was controlled by his ninpo. He simply tilted his head in response to Audrey III's eggings.

"I wonder... you tried to save Donatello from my clutches earlier. Did you know then that your efforts would be in vain? Did you know that in your absence, you'd leave your brothers and sisters to face me alone?"

The two circled around one another, preparing to duel it out.

"I sensed your connection; you'd discovered the truth, hadn't you? You'd discovered this pathetic boy's treachery, how he'd joined my cause."

Mikey's face never faltered. His knuckles tightened around as his weapon.

"I suppose 'joined' was the wrong word to use. He really was weak and pathetic, you know. It was almost too easy to leech my way into his mind. I highly doubt his consciousness could have survived from my invasion. I do hope you said your goodbyes."

Michelangelo charged.

Donnie/Audrey III swirled the staff in front of himself, deflecting the impacts of the little child as he battled the fungus infected version of his brother.

Mikey's movements were graceful, practically a performance as he flowed back and forth, throwing his chains at the purple ninja turtle, whose movements in contrast were fierce and sharp and violent and purely angry.

"Did... did you know he could do that?" 'Phael asked shakily, turning to look at Leo.

Leo simply stared in silence, mouth agape with awe and shock of his baby brother.

"Leo, did you know he could do this??"

"I... I-I mean... sort of... I knew he could do magic... but not like this..."

Michelangelo danced around Donatello, waving his arms and creating ribbons of golden light as he filled the room with light.

Wait a minute, light...

"The light... the light!" NFIF Raphael shouted suddenly. "The light! It's how we defeated the spores the first time, using mystic light! It disintegrates them!"

"How poetic, the light drives away the fear," DvD muttered, still rubbing his neck from the constraining grip of the vines.

"If we can get the door open, we can flood the room with his light and free them all!"

"Okay, solid plan, great effort from everybody, just one slight hitch -- HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET AROUND THE MYSTIC BATTLE WHERE OUR BROTHERS ARE TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER?!" Leo yelled.

"Raph's still comin' up with the plan!! Cut me some slack!"

"I can try to poof you guys to the door," April offered. "It won't be completely accurate, but I can get you close."

"That'll have to do," Raph nodded. "And whatever you do, avoid the hand and the spores!"

April grabbed hold of NFIF Raphael, squeezed her eyes shut, and then - poof! - landed the two right in the middle of the fight.

"AAGH! Sorry, sorry!" she screamed, ducking under Mikey's advance against Donnie, as Raph created an enormous ninpo arm and shielded the two of them from Dee's barrage of ninpo torpedoes.

"Get to the door!" Raph screamed, taking her by the hand and pulling her away as he created two more clones to help in the fight.

Mikey danced and ducked under the glowing purple missiles shot at him. He gripped his nunchuck tightly, whipped it towards one of the Raph clones. It wrapped around his arm, igniting in flames, then swung over Mikey's head like a lasso. He flung the fiery clone at Donnie, who just barely managed to dodge the flaming brother, which created a crater in the ground before him. The second clone came and tried to keep him from firing anymore missiles at UIFY Mikey.

"I'm surprised at you," Donnie huffed, trying to keep up with the two attackers. "Why would you want to fight against me? We're brothers!"

"We don't want to fight you," one clone growled. "But you're not in your right mind, so we'll have to do what we can."

"I'm sure you will," Donnie snarled, changing his bō staff into a spear and skewered the clone straight through. It disintegrated into red blocks and pixels. He turned to the second clone, creating the oh-so-famed drill, and firing at the poor duplicate.

Meanwhile, Raphael and April had made it to the door, April gripping the handle as she waited for Raphael's orders.

"Get ready," she panted, out of breath from dodging both sides of the attack. "Once this door opens, a flood of blue is gonna come out."

"I'll get you out, don't worry," Raph said with a nod.

"It's not me I'm worried about. Donnie said the Hamatos are full of senseless martyrs."

"He's... not wrong. But I promise that I won't sacrifice myself."

April nodded, hoping that he would keep that promise.

"Okay, then."

April threw the door open. As soon as she did, a torrent of blue smoke fumed out, engulfing both April and Raphael. April kept her eyes closed, waiting for the nightmares to start. But they never did. She opened her eyes and saw the world from inside a red glowing giant. Raph held onto her, arms spread around her in a safety hold, his hologram form shielding them from the spores.

Donnie/Audrey III felt a pain in the back of his mind. They turned and saw that the spores were leaking out of the room. Okay, now they were getting irritated.

"Why, you little...!"

In this moment of distraction, Michelangelo's chains wrapped around the softshell's waist and pulled him in. Mikey reached out and grabbed him by his neck, holding him just mere inches away from his expressionless face, eyes still burning like melted gold, no irises nor pupils. Donnie's wide, icy blue-tinted eyes contrasted them sickeningly. Donnie smiled.

"Go ahead," he said, voice smooth and calm. "Kill me."

Mikey blinked at him, but that was all. Audrey III continued.

"That was your plan all along, wasn't it? This ridiculous show of power, the fight? You were planning on finishing the job, weren't you?"

Mikey's fingers squeezed softly. A threat.

"What, are you afraid? Why? Shouldn't it be easy? Are you even in control of yourself? Why would you be afraid to squeeze the life out of someone who looks just like your brother, could actually be your brother?"

Mikey's hand let go, his arms shaking. A soft golden glow started to seep through the bandages.

"Ah, and it looks like you may be out of time."

Michelangelo looked down. Golden ichor dripped off of his fingertips. He pulled the bandages off, revealing the scars on his arms, which were glowing white hot, tiny cracks forming from their edges and shimmering, glittery ichor was bleeding from the reopened wounds. The price to pay for his powers.

Some Mikeys cracked.

He didn't.

Not again... n-not again...

Donatello/Audrey III dusted himself off as he watched Michelangelo slowly come to. With his ninpo overdrive giving way, his mind leisurely crept back into place; the golden glazed over his eyes melting as his irises came into focus and his pupils dilated. The ichor dripping down his forearms began turning a deep red, the glowing scars on his arms becoming irritated open wounds.

No, no! Mikey couldn't give up just yet, not when his family still needed him! But... he knew he'd used up almost all his precious energy... he... h-he... Mikey's breathing slowed, raggedy respiration as his hands shook and his knees wobbled beneath him. The room started to spin as black spots entered his vision. He managed to catch a glimpse of Donatello, swinging his staff with great force and slamming it into Mikey's chest with a hideous cracking sound.

Mikey was flung back several feet, dizzy and dazed and all the air knocked out of him. He vaguely registered multiple voices calling his name...

April screamed, NFIF Raphael screaming with her. April's teleportation powers activated without her realizing it, and she suddenly found herself by MIkey's side. Weak as he was, he had curled up into himself, clutching his stomach in pain and trying to catch his breath as he writhed on the floor. His brothers were also by her side in an instant, each one fretting over his injuries.

April looked up to see Donnie/Audrey III standing over them, the hand perched on his shoulder like a vulture.

Dee held out the severed arm, and gave it to the creature.

"Be whole again, dear disciple," he said with a smile, as the hand reattached itself to the limb, a flash of light combining the two together once again.

"That's gross," Leo grimaced. "Hey, DvD, you're a science experiment, can you do that?"

"No, but I can."

All eyes looked behind Donatello/Audrey III.

A black substance expanded and took form -- an adult version of Donatello, devoid of any colour whatsoever.

April cheered, whooping at his arrival. 'Phael screamed at a pitch that only dogs could hear. He was still convinced that these "Void Brothers" were the ones who'd sent him the ominous sticky note near the beginning of this entire adventure in the competition.

"So," Donnie/Audrey III said with a growl. "It looks like we have some more players in the game."

"Think you can keep up?" Signal asked, his form morphing into one of pure black, multiple arms expanding from his abdomen and several extra sets of teeth growing in his ever-widening mouth.

"The more the merrier," Donatello/Audrey III chuckled, letting the Hand.PNG crawl into his palm. "You know what to do," he whispered to it.

The hand instantly vanished, reappearing by the doorway behind Raphael, and scurrying into the room. A second later, blue chains shot out, slicing through Raphael's hologram.

"That's not good," he mumbled, forcing the hand to reach into the gargantuan stomach, pull him out, and fling him towards the others before the spores could seep through all the way.

Two figures emerged from the doorway, their movements somewhat sluggish. There were tiny mushrooms protruding from their skin. Their eyes glowed a neon blue, and their ninpo matched the shade.

Karai and Mikey.

"No..." Leo whispered, staring in horror. "Karai... what happened to her...?"

"Oh, Mikey," Raph whimpered. "Oh no, big man..."

"He's not gonna make us fight them, is he?" April asked nervously.

The two warriors charged.

"Yep. He is. He most definitely is. Shoulda seen this one coming, honestly. That's on me."

"Get outta here," Raphael ordered. "Me and... uh, these guys -" he said, gesturing to the four colourless adults that had already started combating against the swayed relatives, "- will keep them from following you."

"I thought you said you weren't gonna sacrifice yourself!" April yelled angrily.

"I know, and Raph is gonna keep his promise. But your little brother is hurt, he needs help now! I'm not gonna just hand myself over, I'm your cover. Now get going!"

April wanted to argue about it more, but before she could, she was taken by the wrist and pulled away. Waves was tugging her -- as well as the others -- off to a small clearing.

"Where do we go?!" 'Phael yelled, concerned that they had no real escape plan...

"Misa helps!" came a familiar voice. A sword slashed through the open air, and a bright portal opened in front of them...

...Donatello/Audrey III commanded a cloud of spores, hurtling them towards Radio.

"What are you, some kinda Avatar: the Last Airbender wannabe?" he joked as he dodged the cloud.

"I wonder why you would stand against me. Do we not fight for the same cause? Survival? We feed off of others, we only want to exist on our own terms... can you not see our similarities?"

"Nah, not really," Radio said, slamming his fist into the ground, only missing Donnie by half an inch.

"Such a shame. Then I suppose you must die."

"Happy to return the favour--"

"You can't hurt them!" Raphael shouted as he joined the fray.

"Whaddya mean, we can't? They're trying to hurt us!" Static shouted angrily, popping in and out of random spots, infuriating the heck out of mushroomed Mikey.

"They're not in control of their bodies, they're zombies! We hafta find a way to un-zombify them!"

"Well, no offense, but I don't think they share your mindset of 'no hurting the opponents'," Static sighed. "Besides, you're gonna have a hard time getting Signal to change his mind."

"Well, I'm gonna have to, those are my brothers and un-dead gram-gram from another dimension-- wait, where's Leo?!"

Raph looked around the corridor anxiously for the third zombie. He wasn't anywhere to be seen.

He must still be in the room. Raph darted among the others, rushing towards the dark room. There was still a huge cloud of blue smoke that surrounded the doorway, Raph couldn't go in without being infected. But he could see inside.

There was Leo, sitting up against the wall -- oh god.

Leo's body was half-engulfed in the biggest, scariest mushroom Raphael had ever seen. It's giant eye zeroed in on Raph. It... it looked too much like... his fingers traced over his own injured eye nervously. Why did it look so similar? Donnie had theorized that the fungus might've been kraang-related, but...

Leo. Focus on Leo.

He was there, being absorbed into the mushroom. He looked so pale and thin, like he was wasting away. Raph had to save him somehow, but --

"Enjoying the view?" Donnie/Audrey III asked, whacking Raph over the head with his staff as hard as he could. Raphael crumbled to the ground, clutching his skull and groaning in pain. Yeah, that was going to leave a mark... and a pretty nasty concussion, too...

While Raph was stunned on the floor, Donnie/Audrey III noticed the portal that had allowed for the Until I Found You group's escape. It was still open.

The hand appeared at Donnie/Audrey III's feet.

"This form has served its purpose," he said flatly. "I have what I need for now... But I require you to follow after them. Bring me back the scientist, I believe that he may be of some use to me. And even if not, he can't be left with them. He's too smart, he'll find some way to weaken me... I cannot leave it to chance. Bring him to me."

The Hand.PNG "nodded" at his master, then jumped away towards the portal.

Raphael struggled to keep his vision straight. He felt something wrap around his chest, tugging him backwards. He saw the Void Brothers driving the two zombified Hamatos back to the room... in Raphael's direction... the room...

Raph's head pounded louder than a drum. The ringing in his ears wouldn't stop. He knew April would have his head for giving in so easily... maybe she'd understand given the circumstances. He could barely hold his head up after that last hit... Donnie was a lot stronger than he looked.......

At least... he would be sleeping soon. At least he would be in good company. All the Hamato martyrs, together again. At least he was with Gram-Gram again.

At least he'd be with Leo, soon...

The door closed.

Leon recalled the feeling of portalling.

It was kind of like falling. Accidentally skipping a step down the stairs. An acidic scent that slightly burned the nostrils, a popping in the ears as you go from one altitude to the other in an instant and a half.

Leo hadn't done a lot of portalling, but he'd had his fair share of experiences with the activity. But he still wasn't used to the feeling yet. He stumbled through the bright blue splotch of light and tripped on his way out, finding himself in a brand new corridor. The others followed soon after, clambering out one by one and almost stepping on top of each other.

"Where... where are we?"

"Who cares! We have to go back!" April shouted. "Raph still needs us!"

"What exactly are we supposed to do? Go in, guns blazing? With what guns??" Leo yelled anxiously, waving his arms around to gesture to the obvious lack of firearms.

"P-Prilly's right, w-we haf-hafta... go... back..."

Mikey whined loudly, trying to push himself away from Donnie. The effort hurt his injured arms, which were still bleeding profusely.

"Micheal, hold still--"

"N-no, they need us, Donnie... th-they need us... they need..."

Mikey slipped out of his grip and fell to his knees, shakily trying to get back up.

"Michael, you're in no condition to be going into a battle like that!"

"Mikey all red," Misa whimpered. "Mikey's not s'posed to be so red..."

"No, he's not," Leo growled. "Dude, just sit this one out --"

"No!" Mikey sobbed. "I can't sit back and watch as the people I love and care about get hurt!"

"WHY DO YOU THINK WE WANT YOU TO STAY PUT?!" Leo shouted angrily. "I am NOT having you get hurt like that again! Donnie, take Mikey and go find him some first aid," Leo ordered.

Donnie nodded, picking up the angry box turtle and carrying him into a side hall that lead to one of the many lounge areas. "Raph, April and I will come up with a plan."

"What Misa do?" the littlest turtle mutant asked.

"...You have a very important job to do," Leo announced. "You got those ghosty guys to come and help fight... We're gonna need all the help we can get. Misa, you're the recruiter. Go find as many people as you can and get them to come. Tell them how important it is, okay? This is a big responsibility."

Misa's face lit up.

Lee-Lee trusted her! He knew she was responsible! Misa saluted him with a determined smile and nodded.

"Misa get all the families! Everybody comes!"

"Exactly, Misa. Everybody comes."

"So what, we're just gonna pull an Avengers Endgame on the shrooms? We need more of a strategy than that!" April groaned.

"What the heck is an Avengers Endgame?" Leo asked.

"It's a human reference for a movie. Basically it just means that everybody bands together against the bad guy for an epic finale," 'Phael explained.

"Then why not say that? It makes much more sense than 'Avengers Endgame' -- and how did you know what that meant??"

"I do live with humans, in a human hotel, y'know," 'Phael said, rolling his eyes. "I've seen human movies."

"Okay, well, the majority of our family has not, so maybe--"

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?!" April exclaimed loudly.

"Hand?" Misa asked, eyeing something behind them.

"She means the important stuff," Leo explained.

"Hand!" she yelled.

"Yes, yes, we're trying to get back to the matter at--"

"No, hand!" Misa pointed.

The group turned around to see the blurry trail of a small appendage rushing into the hall after DvD and Mikey.

"I don't just want to sit a-a-and do nothing," Mikey pouted, still shaking in DvD's arms.

"I understand that, you know I do," DvD sighed. "And you also know why I am requiring you to rest. You recall what happened the last time--"

"I know, I know, don't remind me. I was bedridden for days..."

"And yet you wonder why we won't let you go fighting."

Mikey grumbled and turned away from DvD. He was so mad, he could spit venom. He knew they were right, of course they were right. But that didn't make it any easier; in fact it made it worse. Because Mikey knew he was right, too! At least, half-right. He knew that they should go back and help. But he knew he couldn't do much, not with all his energy spent and his arms in the state they were now. They stung like mad, he could barely move them. Donnie had removed what was left of the bandages, doing his best not to gag at the sight and keeping his hands as still as possible, despite his aversion to the blood.

Mikey shouldn't feel guilty for this, right?

It wasn't his fault, right? It was just... how his mystic powers were. He couldn't help the way his body worked, just as much as he couldn't help when his hypoglycemia acted up. It wasn't his fault that he was the way he was... it wasn't a bad thing, right? Being Mikey? Being sensitive to others and sensitive to himself, having some few medical issues and mystic setbacks... that wasn't necessarily a terrible thing, right? Right...?

Mikey turned away so DvD couldn't see him crying. He didn't want him to think he was any more immature or any weaker than he undoubtedly did already. Than they all did. Leo had been taking care of him and his ailments since he was a baby. And Raph was holding on to that one special secret of his... and Donnie had cleaned up the blood and gone to get some more gauze and anti-bacterial supplies for Mikey's wounds. Mikey sighed and wished he wasn't so pathetic. He wished he was stronger, smarter, better. Anyone but himself. The only thing he was good for was his stupid useless mystic powers, and they always did more harm than good, especially self-harm. Mikey hated them. He hated himself--

NO, no, don't think like that! That wasn't kind, that wasn't fair! Mikey didn't actually hate himself at all, he was just mad. He needed to let it go. He needed to sit back and breathe...

Mikey leaned back, exhaled slowly, inhaled deeply.

And he saw it.

Crawling like a cockroach on the wall and up the ceiling.

With something blue in its grip.

"DEE, LOOK OUT!!"

The Hand.PNG shot the spores at Donatello Von Draxum.

Mikey jumped.

He had no time to do anything else.

He had no energy to summon mystic chains or make a spell or do anything clever like that.

He just jumped. Dove, really. Dove straight for his brother, in a desperate attempt to push him out of the way, move him aside, get him to safety!

The spores hit him.

"MIKEY?! MIKEY!!!"

Donnie grabbed his brother, holding him close, ignoring the hand as it disappeared into the shadows to watch the scene play out...

"Mikey, look at me, focus on me, okay? You can get through this, alright!? Just concentrate on my voice..."

Mikey nodded furiously, trying to listen to DvD. But there was a ringing starting, his head felt light and dizzy, the room began to spin and get darker. DvD was fading from vision...

NO! Stay, with me, Donnie, please! Donnie?! DONNIE!!

Donnie started shouting, someone was taking him away! Mikey tried to get up, go after him -- his leg caught on something. His arms, too! He looked down and saw titanium shackles, imprisoning him to a cold metal table.

A light shone in his vision. He squinted at the blinding brightness, wishing he could have a hand free to guard his eyes. Something stood in front of the light, casting a shadow over him.

"Well, well, well... if this isn't a surprise? Back again for more, are we?"

Mikey couldn't breathe.

It... it was him. It was him.

Baron Draxum.

"No... no... no --"

"I think we need to run a few more tests on our little friend here, don't you, Donatello?"

Draxum stepped aside and showed Mikey a view of DvD, chained by the wrists and gagged at the mouth. He was screaming at Mikey, trying to warn him, pleading with him to get out of here!

Mikey screamed back at him, begging wordlessly for Draxum to let him go, please, please!!

Instead, Draxum had one of his vines whip across the room and beat his son across the face. Mikey screamed, sobbing and wailing.

"STOP! NO!"

"He always was such a pathetic disappointment." Draxum turned to the other imprisoned turtle. "Perhaps you will show some promise."

No... n-no, this wasn't how it happened! Donnie w-wasn't -- he was never -- a-and Mikey wasn't awake for any of it, he was asleep for the entire thing! He shouldn't be awake now, he shouldn't be, he shouldn't -- H-he... no, no, no, no no no no nonononononononono!!

Draxum came forward with a needle and scalpel.

"Let's begin."

DvD couldn't stop crying, he just couldn't keep the tears from coming. Mikey was sitting on the floor, screeching his poor little head off, eyes wider than saucers and filled to the brim with fear. He couldn't move much, apart from shaking nonstop. He looked like he was constantly trying to wriggle away from something, but for some odd reason his wrists and ankles were invisibly anchored to the floor. Mikey's limbs twitched as he squirmed and struggled, screaming and begging for whatever he was witnessing to stop, please, please please please stop--

"WHERE IS IT, WHERE THE HECK IS THAT HAND, WHO'S SCREAMING, WHAT'S HAPPENING--?!"

Leon and the others rushed into the room, quickly inspecting the situation and coming upon the obvious conclusion.

"April, take Misa outside..." Leo said after inspecting the scene.

"Misa want to stay with Mikey--!" the little girl protested, but April quickly scooped her up and carried her off.

Leon and 'Phael immediately dropped to Mikey's side, Leo taking the box turtle's hand in his and trying to get him to wake up.

"Dee... fear spores, right?"

"...Yeah..."

"The hand."

"Yes."

"What... what is he seeing?" 'Phael asked nervously, eyes watering at the sight of his baby brother in so much pain.

"I... there's only one thing that could scare him this bad..."

"Draxum?" Leo whimpered.

DvD nodded.

"But... h-he doesn't remember anything from that, you said he was under heavy sedatives for the entire time!"

"He was! Draxum kept him under constant anesthetics -- perhaps his mind is creating an idea of what he thinks happened?"

Raphael started fidgeting with his hands.

"U-um... actually..."

The two boys looked up at him.

"'Phael? What... what is it?"

"...He told me not to tell ya..."

"Tell us what?" Leo questioned.

"H-he made me promise--"

"Raph," DvD said, his voice begging him in ways that words could not. "Please."

"He... he does remember. He does remember what happened in the labs."

Donnie and Leo stared. Mikey continued to sob and scream.

"...What... how... how could he know that... and how do you know that he knows?!" Leo asked, voice raising with each word.

"And why wouldn't he tell us?!" DvD asked in disbelief.

Raph swallowed nervously, a sweat breaking out across the worry lines on his brow.

"He... it started sometime after Karai arrived. H-he thought that m-might do with the mystic training she did with him -- but he started having... nightmares..."

"Nightmares?"

"He said he started dreaming memories about it. It was an out-of-body sorta thing, he said. Like he was watching from the outside... He could never get away from the visions, he said -- but every night, he saw a new one."

"And he... came to you about it? Why not ME?!" Leo yelled, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Or Donnie?! Why not tell us?! We're ALL his brothers!!"

"He told me... he said he didn't wanna burden you."

"...Burden?" Donnie whimpered. "...How?"

Raphael looked back and forth between them all. His eyes fell on Leon.

"...He told me he didn't want you to feel... responsible for another thing," Raph mumbled. "He said he felt bad enough about everything he's made you worry over already, he didn't want you to..."

"...He didn't want me to know...? Because... he felt guilty?" Leo wept, tears pooling and spilling from his eyes. "That... I don't... he shouldn't have felt that way, why did he..."

Leo's eyes glossed over, he squeezed them shut, clutching Mikey's tiny fist and pressing it against his chest.

"How could I make him feel like that...?" he wept. "I never meant... I never knew..."

"But... why not tell me? I could have helped," Donnie said in-between uneven breaths. "I already knew what had happened!"

"That's... actually why he didn't come to you, Don," 'Phael explained. "He s-said, he said he didn't want to hurt you. He saw how much you were struggling and wanted to wait until you were... doing better about the whole ordeal. To be honest, I agreed with him on that mark."

"But why did he tell you?" Leo asked. "Why only you, and not us?"

"I s'pose... because he knew that I knew what it was like to be afraid all the time," 'Phael sobbed. "He knew that I wouldn't judge him for his fears. He couldn't sleep at night anymore, he needed someone to stay with him and help him through his fits... But I told him! I told him to tell you both! I told him you should know!" he cried, whimpering nervously as he wrung his hands and rocked back and forth.

"Raph! Raph, it's okay..." Leo tried to reassure him. "I mean... it's not completely okay... I wish he'd told me, but... that doesn't matter now."

Leo held Raphael close.

"We just... we need to be here for him now... How much does he know?"

"...Everything."

"...This isn't going to be easy for him," Donnie exhaled.

"Or us," Leon added.

The trio gathered close to Michelangelo, each laying their hands on him, a sign that they were there and they were offering comfort in the only way they could.

Mikey kept screaming, he couldn't stop screaming. No matter what his brothers tried, they couldn't snap him out of whatever horrors he was experiencing. They just kneeled beside him, holding his hands and hoping their support made some leeway.

But Mikey just kept screaming, shrieking, crying, weeping, wailing, sobbing. He howled until his throat ran dry and his voiced cracked and went hoarse. He wept until his eyes were red and irritated and his cheeks were stained with saltwater and starting to chafe and the area around his eyes went puffy and soft. And on he went. For what seemed like hours, days, years, centuries even -- but was probably only 15 minutes. Mikey was stuck in a loop of fits and fear.

And then finally, he slowed. His breathing calmed, his sobs turning to hiccups and suck-ups and hyperventilation, as his eyes darted around, looking for something familiar.

"Is... is it over?" Leo asked, internally begging for it to be so.

Donatello was heaving along with Mikey, his cheeks also stained with tears.

"I... I think--"

"D-Donnie?" Mikey whispered shakily.

"Mikey? I'm right here, I'm --"

"No... no, not Donnie, please, I--"

"Is, is he --?"

"He's not done with the hallucination yet," Donnie realised. "It's about to get so much worse."

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!" Mikey screamed, bolting forwards. His legs tangled underneath him, causing him to trip over himself. His arms were strained behind him, his ankles struggling against the ground, as if something was still holding him back.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO HIM, WHAT IS HE SEEING DON?!" Leo screamed.

"Me," Donnie whimpered, holding back desperate sobs. "He's seeing what Draxum did to me. On the last day. When we fought...."

Mikey shrieked in agony, his eyes somehow producing twice as many tears as they had before in this one moment, pouring out for his brother's sake.

Mikey's screams were cut short, he gasped in horror. They all could assume what he'd seen. Draxum had killed Donnie in his hallucinations. Mikey went horribly pale. His eyes widened.

"No... no... no, no, no, get away get--!"

Mikey jerked suddenly. His body seized up, his eyes went wide, and then --

He fell backwards.

Back into the hold of his brothers, who caught him almost immediately.

"MIKEY!!"

Mikey didn't hear them, he simply lay in their arms.

Mikey stopped shaking. His limbs had gone slack. His body went limp. His eyes went somewhere far away from them all.

Mikey exhaled.

And he didn't inhale.

"...Mikey...?"

He didn't respond.

"What... what just happened?" Raph asked nervously.

"He didn't... he didn't just..." Leo begged, slowly placing his fingers against his neck. He paused. He tried the wrist next. He couldn't find any pulse.

"He didn't just leave us, did he?"

"...Michael...?"

Leo pounded his fist against the ground.

He wasn't going to give up his baby brother.

Leo placed his hands across Mikey's chest, applied pressure.

1, 2, 3, 4.

"Come on, Mikey, come on...!"

1, 2, 3 ,4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

"Come ON, Mikey, COME ON! I'm not letting you go!"

DvD was crying, holding himself tight as tears soaked into his shirt and vest.

"Leo, stop... Leo, he... he..."

"Leon, mate, please, he--" 'Phael reached for him, attempting to comfort.

"COME ON!" Leo shouted, refusing to give up.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3--

"WAKE UP!!" he sobbed.

Mikey gasped for air.

His eyes blinked wildly as he bolted upright, limbs flailing about in a mad panic. Three bodies pounced upon him, wrapping themselves around him and sobbing into him. Mikey said nothing. He simply looked around in confusion, getting his bearings and perfividly coming back to reality. He listened, but couldn't hear them. Everything was numb and strange, every sound and image baffled him. All he knew was he hadn't been here anymore. But he was here again, now. Here with his brothers.

... I did not intend for this ...

Yes, I intended to send the spores.

And yes, I intended to have them sent after Donatello.

I even intended for them to miss him entirely, for Michelangelo to rush in his place and take the hit for him.

But I never intended this.

Michelangelo was meant to see a different fear entirely.

Michelangelo is afraid of being the frailest, the smallest, the weakest of the brood. Dear little Mikey is afraid that he has nothing of importance to offer. He is always relying on the others to help him, to save him. He has nothing to offer them in return. Mikey tries to do what he can, but deep down he is afraid that one of these days, his brothers will discover that HE needs THEM far more than they could ever need him.

Truly, THAT was what he was meant to see. I had no idea he would see... all that.

They told me no one would get hurt. They told me no one would die. They promised me. And they lied.

It was a good game while it lasted. But I'm not having fun with it anymore.

No one was meant to be hurt like this.

No one was meant to die.

I suppose this means I'll have to do what I can to fix things, now.

"L-Leo," croaked Mikey, who slowly raised his hand and pointed a trembling finger. "Hand…"

“What... what are you saying, Mike?"

“Hand,” Mikey clarified, stressing his wobbly finger as he gestured behind them.

The boys followed Mikey's direction.

The Hand.PNG was crawling towards them.

"G-Get it away from Mikey!" Leo screamed, kicking his feet in the creature's direction.

"Don't let it come any closer!"

"WHERE'S MY TECH-BŌ?!"

"Please, if you could simply pause for a moment, I'd like to make you an offer."

Everything stopped.

Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey froze, jaws dropping to the floor as they heard the hand speak at them.

"You... y-you can talk?" Mikey's voice came out grated and raspy.

"Yes."

"What... why are you just deciding to speak now?" Raphael asked.

"And why have you been tormenting us all?!" Donnie bellowed, gripping his tech-bō tightly as possible.

"And what did you mean, you wanted to make an offer?" Leon interrupted. "An offer for what?"

"I was wondering if I could offer you my services. How would you like to rescue your family and destroy the fear fungus?”

108 notes · View notes

daisyblog · 6 months

Text

Proud Sister

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is by Louis side at his London Premiere for All of Those Voices.

Based on this request

Sitting in the back of the black Range Rover with Louis, felt all too familiar to YN. She had done it a few months ago at the Venice Film Festival when they supported Harry for the Don’t Worry Darling premiere. She can remember walking the red carpet when One Direction’s This Is Us was released in 2013.

YN was stunned when Louis had asked her to walk by his side on the carpet, for his own documentary, All Of Those Voices. Of course she was going to be there, supporting her big brother. But she was expecting to walk with Harry and her siblings.

She was in Sydney with Harry, when a FaceTime from Louis popped up on her phone.

“Hey Lou!”.

“Tiny! You alright my love?”. Louis’ cheery voice boomed through the speaker.

“Yeah..I’m alright…whot’s got you smiling like that?”. YN couldn’t help but notice how chirpy Louis was considering it was early morning back in London.

“Cheeky fucker…I’m always ‘appy.”. Louis pretended to be offended. “Anyway..I want to ask you something-“.

YN was quick to interrupt. “Yes I want a One Direction reunion.”.

“Yeah I know, but you’ll have to wait.” YN pouted at Louis words. “But how do you feel about walking with me on the red carpet?”.

YN eyes were wide, in shock at what Louis had just asked. It must have been a joke because out of everyone why would Louis just want YN to be by his side.

“Is this a joke?”. She couldn’t help the words flowing out of her mouth.

Louis chucked, his blue eyes crinkled as he did. “Course fookin’ not…m’serious.”.

“Why me?”.

“Why you…are you being fookin’ serious right now”. Louis couldn’t believe how oblivious YN was on how much she had supported him over the years. “Tiny…you made me a big brother…you were my first friend…you were there at my audition believing in me…you cheered me and the band on through the show…you were by my side through three tours…you were the one who listened when Zayn left and the band decided to go on a break…you were the one by Mums side when I couldn’t be…you were the one who held it all together for us all when Mum passed…you were the one who made me believe in myself when it came to making my own music…you were the one trying to help me support Felicite…you are always the one by my side, so yeah I want you where you always are…walking by my side.”.

Louis and YN had always had a special bond, and Louis had always been loving towards his siblings but hearing Louis list all the things that YN did naturally because that’s the kind of person she was, had hit her hard emotionally.

“You’ve made me cry now Lou.” YN was trying to gently wipe away her stray tears as she was getting ready to watch Harry’s show. “I’m a fookin’ mess…look at me.”.

“Yeah…well…I was only saying the truth.”. Anyone who knew Louis, would know that unless he meant it then he wouldn’t say it.

“Yeah of course I’ll be by your side.” YN eventually answered as she dabbed under her eyes with a tissue. “You’re my best friend too Lou…you know that right?”.

“Oi…don’t fookin’ start me off…right m’going before I cry…love you Tiny.”.

“Love you Lou.”.

As the car approached Leicester Square, screams could be heard from fans waiting for Louis’ arrival. Louis got out of the car first, before holding his hand out to help YN step out.

As the siblings walked further up the red carpet, security following their every move, fans and the press were quick to snap photos and videos of the Tomlinsons.

Louis stopped to take photos with fans at the side of the barrier, whilst trying to have small conversations with them. YN admired the interactions from her position slightly behind him. Louis and his fans had a special connection that only they could understand, and it was precious to watch the love between them.

Louis was signalled to pose for photos by himself, before he called YN over to have their photos take together. Louis wrapped his arm around his sister, YN doing the same as they wore bright smiles on their faces.

As Louis made a joke about his cheeks hurting from smiling so much, loud screams were heard from further down the red carpet.

“Your boyfriends arrived.” Louis playfully nudged YN’s shoulder with his.

“How do you know that?”. YN looked at her brother, confused how screams meant Harry had arrived.

“Believe me love…I just know.” Louis playfully squeezed her cheek with his finger, like her used to do when she was younger.

Proving Louis right, YN could see Harry further down walking with her grandparents and siblings, trying not to draw attention to himself as in his words “today is Louis day”. YN had always known she was blessed but seeing her family all together made her realise it more.

Louis had been called over by an interviewer to answer a few questions, meaning YN could sneak off to see her family. After giving each of her grandparents and siblings a quick cuddle and a peck on the cheek, she found herself next to Harry who immediately placed his arm around her hip and leaving a peck on her cheek.

The Tomlinson siblings posed for photos together, before they were escorted into the screening. YN and Harry found their seats and sat comfortably next to each other. YN was in the middle of telling Harry something that had happened previous in the evening, when a voice interrupted them.

“Is this seat taken?”. Liam’s voice was heard. YN and Harry would recognise his accent anywhere.

Harry stood from his seat and took Liam into his arms. “Nice to see you man.”.

“You too Styles!”. Liam let go of Harry, before leaning in to give YN and hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek. “How are you love?”.

“I’m good…you kept this a secret.”. YN called Liam out on his surprise appearance at the premiere.

After a quick catch up, Liam went to his own seat where he was sat further back with his new girlfriend.

Before finding his seat next to YN, Louis said a few words and thank everyone involved in the making of his documentary, thank his fans because without them he wouldn’t be standing where he is now, thanked his four brothers who were a huge part in his journey.

“And a massive thank you to my family…who constantly support me through my personal life…as well as my career.”.

As part of the documentary, Louis grandparents and siblings were all asked to be a part of it and to answer some questions about Louis.

The audience had a little giggle at the part when Daisy and Phoebe had explained that they saw Louis as a controlling big brother, but really he was always right.

But what had the audience awwing was when a clip of YN came on. She was sat in her and Harry’s living room, family photos hanging on the wall behind her, but one that stood out was one of YN stood between Harry and Louis from their tour in 2014. The three wore big smiles on their faces as Harry and Louis both hugged YN close.

“Louis always says how lucky he is…but everyone who has Louis in their life are the lucky ones…he’s just too humble to realise it”.

At YN’s words, Louis reached over and squeezed YN’s hand, a little gesture to show how much that meant to him. There were many emotions shown through the screening. Happy times, sad times and bittersweet times. Louis aim was to show all the sides to his story, and he succeeded!

As the credits played on the screen and everyone stood to give a round of applause for a touching documentary, YN brought her brother into a big hug and whispered “Mum would be so proud of you.”.

To the world he was Louis Tomlinson, to YN he was Louis, her big brother.

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @jerseygirlinca @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss

148 notes · View notes

copiasass · 1 year

Text

i found the old post of all the reasons why i see Copia as the anti-christ:

1) Aight the first one is like the art from Pro Memoria and the rest of my points will be under the cut

Copia has the mark of the beast on his chest which isn't a clear indication that he's the anti-Christ, anyone can have that tattoo. At first glance it just looks like Adam and Eve, which obviously its inspired by? But what I find fascinating about the choice here is that he is the one offering Eve the fruit. So he's clearly being depicted as the serpent here, offering Eve knowledge and mortality (which like, the song is about).

Could've chosen any other boring ass bland dude to be depicted here but nope. Copia.

2) The album artwork itself

The cardinal is quite literally sitting on a throne on top of the entrance of hell.

That is in the mouth of a three-headed beast which Cerberus (which is Greek but still hell/Hades related) which is a hell hound but turned into a rat.

There are also six wings spreading from behind the cardinal and none of the papas have really been depicted so explicitly to be devilish? Seriously, compare the artwork of the other albums, all the Papas are there, yes, but none so explicitly mirroring the devil.

Lucifer is a seraphim in most interpretations of the bible, and they have six wings.

the album artwork is also inspired by this album artwork:

so yeah definitely a Theme Going On Here Don't You Think?

Let's talk about the throne that the cardinal is sitting on?

The colors are blue and gold, which is a HUGE stark contrast to the rest of the colors of the album artwork. The blue and gold throne matches with Copia's new color scheme as Papa IV

Which, at first I just thought "WOW NEAT so tobias had papa iv's color scheme planned out for a while huh"

But if you look at the other side of the album artwork:

From left to right we see papa i, papa ii, papa nihil, sister imperator, papa iii, and then copia

but what i find fascinating about this is the lady behind copia? who's wearing blue and gold, which is papa iv's colors?

Could just be a random lady like the other people in the artwork but I find her interesting and of note because she's so explicitly highlighted from the rest of the crowd, surrounded by two devilish beings that appear to be her bodyguards. cause she's wearing blue and gold? and copia looks like he's looking at her.

It's a bit of a jump, yes, but I think that lady is Lucifer.

Tobias Forge has mentioned before that he thinks of lucifer as a man, woman, or nonbinary. Lucifer doesn't exactly HAVE a gender for Tobias, or at least can be whatever gender lucifer wants to be in the moment. I cannot for the life of me find that quote, but I know its out there somewhere.

3) The first horseman is interpreted to be the anti-christ

From the wiki page:

In John's revelation, the first horseman is on a white horse, carrying a bow, and given a crown, riding forward as a figure of Conquest, perhaps invoking Pestilence, Christ, or the Antichrist.

Obviously he's not carrying a bow, but he is on a white horse.

And like most people, I always thought the first horseman was pestilence, but there's several interpretations of who conquest is.

One of the interpretations of conquest is also that he is the anti-christ.

So copia being conquest in a mashup of both pestilience and the anti-christ? Yeah, I dig it.

Also, my girlfriend told me that back during the black death people thought it was the cause of the anti-christ from some podcast she listens to. So the anti-christ and pestilience kinda mesh together into conquest.

4) Tobias Forge is CLEARLY inspired by the Omen series for ghost. He's said it himself this project is like omen and exorcist but as a stage show and band.

He also clearly made it a thing in the prequelle skits that the omen series is a clear inspiration.

So obviously the shining is a clear inspiration here as well but like, Damien (who is the anti-Christ) also rides a tricycle in the first omen movie:

6) Damien and copia are around the same age.

So this theory is connected to the sister-imperator-is-copia's mom theory (this was written before that was confirmed in that Doom chapter)

i ran out of images allowed on this post but

There's the moment in the prequelle skits where sister imperator touches her stomach, implying that she's pregnant. She also attacks a lady for smoking near her which kinda tracks with her not wanting secondhand smoke around the kid.

So many people assume that she's pregnant with nihil's kid and sure yeah. I can see, its a way better assumption than what i'm about to shit out on here but:

The lyrics to prime mover come to mind when i think of these two theories combining into one?

here's the lyrics:

A secretive nun

Bearing the old ones' bastard son

Selected heir

Machinary insect

Bloodline of the dark architect

Toxic blood

Of not known birth

Antichrist will walk the earth

i think most people interpret this song to be about a nun that bears satan's child. sister imperator, a nun, bearing copia? so that's how i interpret that. its from the first ghost album so maybe it doesn't really have any part to do with what tobias is doing now post-meliora eras but i found that interesting

so what if copia is tobias forge's alternate take on the anti-christ from the omen series?

the omen was released in 1976 but was mostly filmed in 1975 making a 5 year old damien born in 1970 or around that time

the date of kiss-the-go-goat video is september 13th, 1969 (also, the main joke here was it being the day Scooby Doo aired, but it still works in pregnancy timing)

but if she's pregnant in the video copia would have been born in 1970. If pregnant around that time she would have given birth around June of 1970, making a 6AM, June 6th birthday track: 666.

Same, or close-ish, to damien's age.

Since tobias forge is clearly inspired by the omen series im thinking that maybe he wanted to have this an alternate take on this for my band.

Another thing that I wanted to bring up, that I didn't really when I first wrote this post out is yeah, she was pregnant touching her belly when looking at Nihil. And I truly believe that Imperator wanted Nihil to be Copia's father, even though Copia is Lucifer's son. That mirrors EXACTLY the case of Joseph and Christ. The anti-Christ is an inversion of Christ, correct? Therefore, Joseph in that inversion would've been Nihil. Basically, his kid, just not blood-related.

That was thrown out once Nihil cheated on Imperator and Copia raised, presumably, just by her.

#anti christ copia #the band ghost

383 notes · View notes

avxtarlz · 4 months

Note

Okay hear me out- this might be a little stupid but I can’t get it off my mind- Coriolanus snow instead of Lucy gray and the covey, reader with a jazz band??? I really love jazz I just want to know his thoughts on all the different instruments and jazz singer reader! TYSM for at least listening! 🩷

Jazz || PeaceKeeper Coriolanus Snow x Female District! Jazz singer Reader

Summary: After coming Back from Winning The 10th Hunger games, One day while you and your Band Are playing You spot the same White haired Boy. Coriolanus never heard of Jazz before since the Capitol Is all Classic music, so You introduce him to your fellow band mates.

—————————-

You loved to sing With your band. They were like your family.

You missed them the Entire time you were in the arena. Wishing you would be back with them. But with the help of Coriolanus snow getting you back to your family like he promised.

Now in the Train heading back to Twelve Feeling miserable of how you didn’t thank him.

Hopefully you two would meet again.

———————

“Did you guys miss me?!” You spoke in the Microphone on stage.

A bunch of Yes’s were shouting all over the Club.

“Well I sure missed you! But I assure you I am back!” You started to smile

“Well how bout a song huh?” You started to ajust your Mic.

You turned back to your band Nodding at them to know your ready.

———————

As you and Your band Are up stage Performing for the audience Enjoying yourselfs. While in the middle of Singing You make eye contact with those same Blue eyes you once Knew. You almost stopped singing but continued. You smiled as you started swaying.

Now done with your Music just Taking a break. “Hey guys I’ll be right back.” Putting the mic back up on its stand. They all nodded and smiled as they headed to the bar.

Making your way through the crowd saying Excuse me here and there seeing if you could spot those same Blue eyes again. Once you spot him standing in the same place you saw him, you started to walk over.

“Hey.” You smiled as him. “Hey, You were really good up there. Never heard of that type of Music.” He asked smiling. You looked shocked. “You’ve never heard of jazz before?” You teased him. “No, back in the Capitol it’s all Classic you know.” He nodded leaning against the wall.

“Wow. Well I have to meet you to My band mates. Come.” You motioned with your hands signaling him to follow. You made sure he was following you through the crowd heading backstage where your band were just sitting and chatting around.

You and Coriolanus walked up to them as you introduced them to him. “Hey guys this Is Coriolanus. He was my mentor back in the capitol, He helped me win the games and come back.” They all looked at Corio.

“Thank you for helping her. We wouldn’t know what we would do without her. She’s like our little sister.” Your Band mate Bennie walked up to Corio as he Nodded at him. “Of course.” Coriolanus nodded back.

“Corio let me introduce them to you.” You patted his back. “Well here’s Bennie, He’s our Saxophonist. Then we have Finch Which who plays our Trumpet. Here’s Charlie who’s our drummer. Miles is our bassists, Our Guitarist is Django, and Lastly Calloway is our pianist. And I’m the voice of course.” You grinned as all you band mates waved and greeted Corio.

“Nice to meet you all. I do enjoy your Music very much.” Corio grinned. “Yeah, thanks man but we should probably head back on stage now guys.” Miles pointed to the stage. They all started to head on stage setting up. You turned around to Coriolanus. “It was nice seeing you again Corio, and thank you for everything,” you started to Tear up.

“No,No I should be thanking you Y/n, You saved me in thatBombing. I owe you my life. Just don’t forget that. I promised you I would bring you back to your family.” Coriolanus grabbed your hands. With his other hand he wiped the Tears falling from your eyes.

“Thank you Corio.” You weakly smiled. The silence broke as You heard in the background of jazz music started to play. “I think I should go now.” You pointed back to the stage while wiping your tears. “Yeah. I’ll be watching you out there.” Corio grinned. You smiled at him as you walked back on stage.

_________________

#tom blyth #coriolanus snow #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x reader

97 notes · View notes

anxious-witch · 4 months

Text

Sooo, since like, literally three people asked(like I need more enabling lmao) here is a drabble/snippet from poly!JO soulmate au from August. It isn't finished and kinda a kess so read at your own risk, definitely not up to my usual quality.

Tw for alcohol, vomiting, character's drink being spiked (if I forgot anything, please let me know)

Bojan was born with four stripes on his stomach. Yellow, red, purple and blue. It reminded him of a mini rainbow. When he was little he used to trace them. Wondering how it related to his soulmate.

His parents seemed reluctant to tell him. And Bojan didn't understand. Not until his sister pulled him aside one day before he started school and explained. Soulmate marks indicated something about his soulmate, but his was special. Bojan remembered that she specifically used the word special.

Not weird, not odd. Special.

She said that since his has more than one color, it probably means more than one soulmate. That there was nothing wrong eith that, but that he had to be careful since not everyone would understand.

She told him it was easy enough to cover with clothes, but in case he needed to, she showed him how to hide it with makeup.

Bojan hadn't been seven for awhile now. He was twenty four and he understood much, much better why his sister was so careful about all of it. At best, people with multiple marks were looked down upon. And Bojan didn't always have the best of luck, either.

He wished he could say that the reason he wanted to convince Kris to join the band was purely because of talent. Not that Kris wasn't extremly talented because he was. Bojan was already laying groundwork to ask him to join. And then Kris tied his hair back in a ponytail, revealing his soulmark.

Four stripes. Red, pink, purple and blue. Perfectly lined up.

Bojan had to swallow past the lump in his throat. Found one of you.

He didn't want Kris to join the band because of that thiugh. So instead he did his best to charm him. Teasing and laughing and promising. Kris agreed, under the condition that Jan may join too.

"He is my best friend and my soulmate. I am not going anywhere without him."

How could have Bojan refused?

Kris and Jan were polar opposites that somehow managed to work in perfect harmony. Kris charmed you with his cute laugh and politeness, while Jan disarmed you with flirting and downright filthy things he could say with a straight face.

Bojan planned on telling them about his mark. He really did. It was just that everytime he tried, fear of rejection wrapped itself over his chest.

What if they didn't want him? What if it would make things weird?

He was a coward. He knew as much. He just couldn't bring himself to tell them.

His mark ached sometimes. Especially when he saw how gently Jan would kiss the mark on Kris's neck, or Kris wrapping his fingers around the one on Jan's wrist.

Jan made it worse with the way he wore his so openly. Like a badge of honor. Bojan suggested him to put a bracelet or some makeup on it once, to hide it.

He remembered Jan's fury to this day.

"What, do you have something against it? Do you think I should be fucking ashamed of my soulmates?"

Bojan took a step back, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

"No, of course not...I just think it might be wise not to show it off. People get beaten up for less. I don't want to see you hurt."

Jan looked at him for one very long moment. Bojan felt like he was being carved from inside out and examined.

"Let me worry about that. What business of yours is that, anyway?"

Bojan's mark pulsed under his shirt. He resisted the urge to rub the pain away. He shrugged.

"None."

They never spoke of it again. Years passed and Bojan got used to the yearing that came with being so close and yet so far.

And then Jure came along. Bojan was still sad because of Matic leaving. That's the only excuse he had for not noticing Jure's mark sooner.

It came to a head during summer vacation. Jure joined them at the pool. And on his leg, just under his knee, was a mark. Four strips. Yellow, pink, red and purple.

Bojan heard Kris gasp from somewhere far away. His own mark throbbed underneath the band aid he put on. The lie he said was that he had a scar from surgery that he didn't want to show. Jan teased him for being vain, but no one ever questioned it.

He and Martin exchanged a glance. Silently agreeing to leave and give them a moment. If Bojan's heart felt heavy or his mark burned, knowing he belonged there too, well. That was only for him to know.

Bojan was running out of excuses. Jure made a perfect new addition to Kris and Jan. While they certainly took some time to find a way to navigate a new configuration, they did work it out. Sometimes Bojan was so jealous he could taste it.

Which usually meant he got hammered and left with the first person who wanted to take him home and fuck him.

Other times, he just got hammered and called Luka through Skype. Luka who'd cursed him out and scolded him for being an idiot, but would still try and get him to take care of himself. Made sure he drank water and had a bucket nearby.

That was probably more than he deserved.

"So let me get this straight. Three of your soulmates recently got together. Which disproved your theory about them not wanting you because they are monogamous. Shocker, really. And instead of telling them now, you got hammer."

Bojan raised a finger in the air.

"And made out with a girl at the party in front of them."

Luka pinched his nose. He took a deep breath.

"And made out with a girl in front of them. Great! Lovely! What's the next step in your brilliant, self-destructive plan?"

Bojan shrugged. Luka sighed again.

"You are a menace. But you are also my friend. Which means I want you to be a happy menace. Please tell them."

"I'll think about it."

Luka shook his head and looked at him sadly.

"Sure you will."

---

He didn't end up telling them. In his defense, he really was preoccupied. Few days later, Martin told him he was leaving the band to concentrate on finishing college.

Bojan grieved the loss of another friend, as ridiculous as it sounded. While Kris and Jan loved Martin as well, it was different. They had each other and Jure now.

So Bojan arranged everything for Martin's last concert with them. And looked for the replacement. Which was how he found Nace.

Bringing Jan along was his first mistake. Perhaps if he hadn't it could have been avoided.

Nace fit into the criteria to perfectly replace Martin on stage. Jure even joked they looked similar enough that fans won't even notice the difference. Bojan would, though. He wasn't only losing a friend who he worked with since the beginning, but also his last line of defense.

His mark ached harder than before ever since Jure joined in.

He and Jan interviewed Nace and it was all going well. Bojan was finally starting to relax, realizing Nace would be a good fit. He was responsible, but knew how to joke still. They did need someone to keep them in check on occasion. And Nace didn't drink. His guitar skills were amazing too. All in all, perfect.

Up until he took off his leather jacket and stayed only in short sleeves. Showing off a soulmark on his right biceps.

Four stripes. Yellow, pink, red and blue. Bojan froze.

"Nace," Jan said, sounding almost breathless, "is that your soulmark?"

Nace looked at him in confusion. Jan raised his hand to show off his wrist and Nace's eyes widened.

"You are-"

"Yes. And I have found the other two. You are the forth."

Bojan felt like he was watching a private moment. Nace seems to be at a loss on what to say, simply looking at Jan like he was a miracle.

"So...only one remains."

A lump formed in Bojan's throat. His mark burned viciously. As if it was screaming: I am here! Bojan got up.

"I'll leave you to settle...um. This. I think we can conclude Nace is a good fit by what was said already anyway. Have fun."

Jan's heavy gaze followed him until he took a turn in the alley, away from the view of the café.

The next few weeks were torture. Watching them was torture. The way they all balanced each other perfectly. Jure's jokes and pranks contrasted Nace's mature, thought out responses. Kris' anxious energy was match by Jan's always relaxed state. They mixed and matched and still-

God, his mark burned. Bojan had too many moments where he had to excuse hinself and just breathe. Will the pain away.

They were all there. Missing only one puzzle piece. All he had to do was go there and tell them. Just-

"Bojan?" Nace gently called out, startling him.

He turned from where he was leaning on the sink in the kitch to face him. Nace was always so measured in his movements, in his words. He told that that was because he used to be wild in his teenage years. He appriciated measured, gebtle approach a lot more now.

"Sorry, I got lost in thought. Did you need something?"

"I just wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute?"

Bojan shrugged, even as his defense mechanisms rose up. Did he know? How would he have even realized? No. Impossible.

"Sure. Shoot."

Nace's gaze traveled over his face and Bojan had the urge to squirm. All of them were attractive of course, but Nace and Jan had this odd ability to make him feel like they knew all his secrets. Bojan didn't have time to unpack why he was bith terrified and attracted to the feeling.

"I know this whole thing can't be easy for you. With all of us being bonded, you must feel left out. And I am sorry if I contributed to that by joining the band."

Bojan bit his lip. Oh. That was so thoughtful. He felt even more guilty about lying now.

"It's not your fault. And I'm-I'm glad you guys found each other. It just gets a bit...much, sometimes."

Nace nodded.

"I can imagine. Kris told me you haven't found your own match yet, so it must be doubly hard for you."

God. He could just tell him. Bojan opened his mouth.

"Nace I-"

"Nace!"

Jure came running, to show Nace a very specific cat video. It broke their moment and Bojan's sudden bravery disappeared.

He didn't tell him.

Which was why he ended up at the bar again. This time, without any of them around. He chatted up a guy who vaguely reminded him of Nace. Accidentally of course.

It tricked his brain into feeling safe. So Bojan wasn't watching his drink as attentively as he should have.

He only realized his mistake when the room started to spin. Panic gripped him. If he went to the bathroom, he was going to show he was suspicious. But what could he do?

Now, Bojan will admit he wasn't someone who ever studied the soulmate bond. But even he knew about it. In theory. He tried to block in out of his mind most of the timez terrified of exposing himself.

But in his panic and confusion, he found it. He could feel faint flashes of what the other four felt. And he, idiotically, pushed all his fear and panic through the bond.

The closest way to describe the feeling was smashing the fire alarm.

Suddenly he could feel all of them. As if they they were reaching out to him. Jan's fierce protectiveness, Kris gentle reassurance. Jure's playfulness was there, even with his worry. And Nace was a warm, stable presence of comfort.

Bojan's phone rang. The guy he was drinking with seemed annoyed, but it gave him an excuse to step away and answer the phone.

He managed to make it out of the club, to the fresh, cold air.

"Hello?"

"Bojan, where are you?"

Jan's voice was sharp and urgent. It immediately brought tears to Bojan's eyes.

"At the bar near my apartment. I'm sorry I-I think the guy put something in my drink. Everything is kind of spinning and I swear I only had one drink! Jan, I'm scared."

He heard Jan swearing at the other end, and there was such an intense wave of protectivness that came through the bond that Bojan felt like it wrapped around him.

"It's okay. We are coming to get you. I will give Kris the phone now, okay? Stay on the line."

"Okay."

He sat on the ground, to get the spinning under control. He was so tired.

"Bojan? Can you hear me?"

"Kris," he sighed contentedly.

Kris had such a nice, soothing voice. Bojan wanted to fall asleep to him talking.

"Yes, it's me. Can you tell me how are you feeling?"

Bojan hummed, thoughtful. Woth everything they were feeling, it was hard to pinpoint how he felt.

"Tired. Kinda sick? Not like I'll throw up but like I didn't eat something right. And everything is still spinning."

Kris kept talking to him and asking him irrelevant questions just to keep him on the line. Bojan fought against drifting off, but it became harder.

"Kris," he whined, "I am so tired."

He gently shushed him.

"I know sweetheart. Just a bit longer. We'll be there in a minute."

The rest was a blur. He remembered them picking him up and driving him home, but drugs made everything hazy. Last thing he remembered was being put to bed and then everything going dark.

#my writing #poly!jo #poly!jo soulmate au #joker out #I have zero excuse for this one

103 notes · View notes

nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 10 months

Text

Imagine Prt 5

Was this all a dream?

“Wake up.”

Her eyes shot open and a blinding light almost burned through her retina like a magnifying glass to an ant. She shut her eyes tightly, opening them again only this time the light had been replaced with a face you’d love to wake up to every single day.

Only this face was the face of an unhinged, sadistic murderer with deep-seated obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. So, naturally, Y/N wanted to scream. She wanted to kick and scream. But for some reason, her throat felt as if she’d swallowed glass. Her limbs were bound to a flatbed with no support and it was bone-chilling cold.

Her dry tongue tried to bring moisture to her dehydrated lips but there was no use. The feeling began to over power her limbs. Why does it feel like she’d been running on rocks? She couldn’t wiggle her toes. Why is there cushioning lining the walls? Why is everything so stark white? Why does the door remind her of a prison?

Still trying to gain her motor skills, Y/N tried moving her head from left to right. She allowed her tired eyes to scan her body as best as she could. Thick leather restraints and rusty buckles kept her imprisoned to the bed. She could taste the fear on her tongue and it was far from pleasant.

“Hello, Y/N,” a smooth baritone filled her ears, “You’ve been out for a while now. Glad to have you back with us.”

She refused to speak. Who are they?

“You’ve created quite the ruckus this time around. Had I not saved you from what would have been your death, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

She could feel hot tears pricking her eyes.

“We had to put you out. Heavily sedate you. I usually don’t agree to this, but you somehow got your hands on a knife from the kitchens. Sadly, I couldn’t help you out of this one. Not when you almost killed me…”

The sound of his dress shoes click-clacked across the polished floor. He seemed to pace back and forth. Y/N kept her eyes on the padded wall. She thought she’d escaped his wrath. She wondered if her sister made it out safely. After everything April had gone through, she deserved to live. As for Y/N, she was the dumb bitch who fell in love with a psycho.

“Y/N? What are you thinking about?” He questioned with a patient voice.

She couldn’t find it in her to speak.

“One way or another, you’ll have to talk to me. Even if that means you’ll be tied to this bed.”

He approached her side with slow strides and reached out to stroke her hair back from her face. He then used his knuckle to wipe away her tears before quickly moving his hand away when he realized what he was doing.

“I care so much about your well-being because I have such a soft spot for you, Y/N. I know I shouldn’t say things like that…but I’ve grown fond of you as my patient.”

Patient?

Y/N turned her head quickly to look at him. To make sure she’d heard him exactly. She somehow missed the hospital band with the number 67 on it and her name.

“What?”

Her voice was cracking.

“What do you mean patient?”

Drinking him in, he’s wearing a white button down shirt, black slacks with a black belt, and polished black dress shoes. Gold-rimmed specs decorated his obsidian eyes and his hair is loc’d with a crisp tapered fade. A navy blue lanyard hung from his sturdy neck and a laminated badge attached to it. She studied the badge very closely.

Dr. N’Jadaka Stevens

She couldn’t believe it. This can’t be true. A Doctor?

He had a pleasant smile in the picture on the badge. It’s slightly faded and his hair was styled in a kinky fro.

“We’ve been through this many times before, Y/N,” He took a seat at the foot of the bed, “yes, you are a patient here at Gateway. You’ve been a patient here for over a year now.”

“Wha—no–this–no–no I–I’m not a patient.”

“Hm,” His eyes became sorrowful, “this is the deepest delusion episode you’ve had since being admitted.”

“Delusion?” Y/N squinted her eyes with confusion, “Are you trying to say I’m crazy?”

“No, no,” Erik shakes his head, “You suffer from delusional disorder. It’s what you’ve been diagnosed with.”

“I’m delusional?! Me?! After the way you’ve acted?!”

Erik adjusted his glasses as he stared at Y/N with no emotion.

“What is this? Another sick game of yours?! Where the fuck am I?!”

A hard knock to the door caused Y/N to jump.

“Everything is good,” He shouted towards the door.

A burly man turned his back away from the small panel of glass in the door.

“What is this place, Erik?”

“Gateway.”

“This where you keep all of your victims before you murder them?!” Y/N snapped.

He smirked, “No, Y/N, I’m not the psychopath you think I am. Maybe that’s how you see it in your altered reality, but I’m just your psychiatrist.”

Y/N laughed maniacally.

“Okay! You’ve won! Now let me go!!!”

He stood from the bed. Y/N began to kick and writhe. The bed was mounted to the floor with bolts specifically for this reason. She started becoming light headed from her dehydration and the urge to vomit overcame her.

“I FUCKING HATE YOU!” She screamed.

“You hate the fantasy you’ve created in your mind. To you, I’m Erik, The one that held you captive, kidnapped your sister, murdered her boyfriend, murdered your ex—”

“YOU DID ALL OF THOSE THINGS! So what is this?! Are you really some twisted doctor?! What are you going to do now, torture me until I beg you to kill me?!!!”

He turned his back on her. He removed his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. He couldn’t keep up with the amount of times this has happened. It always ends in this very room.

“But, would you even do it? Would you do it when I’m pregnant with your baby, Erik? If you kill me, you kill the one link to you. All of those lies about how you would never hurt me,” Y/N broke down crying between sentences, “You lied to me. You don’t love me, you don’t love anyone or anything. You’re not capable of love. All you know is death and heartbreak. You’re fucking crazy. You’re the one that should be tied to this bed, not me. I wish I never fucking met you.”

N’Jadaka shut his eyes slowly. Y/N’s words stung. He knew that she wasn’t well, but why did her made up world hurt his feelings so much? No one can see or know how that made him feel. He’d lose his job and never see her again.

“Y/N, I’m going to show you something,” He finally turned to look at her, his face expressionless, “This is your file. Your patient file. Everything within this manila folder is between you and I. It’s worn out because I’ve shown you this file many times before. This is the only solution to your episodes. Showing you proof that THIS is the reality you are in…”

N’Jadaka took long strides towards Y/N. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly as if she were chasing her own breath. He opened the file and held it above her head so that she could read it. The first page was her information, including her diagnosis. Delusion Disorder. She squinted to focus and when the words seemed to connect, her eyes scanned the page. Her brows creased with worry and her lower lip trembled.

N’Jadaka flipped the page. Now, she was seeing her criminal profile. It was a crime of insanity. Not guilty by reason of insanity. Remaining confined to Gateway. A double homicide. Y/N’s eyelids fluttered and a fresh swell of tears rolled into her hairline. N’Jadaka couldn’t bear the look on her face each and every time.

“April…Darrell…no…no…I wouldn’t have…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N…”

“This—you made this up. You typed this up to make me look crazy—”

“You murdered your sister and your fiancé in cold blood. You can’t remember any of it because you were having an episode. You blacked out and woke up in handcuffs. This happened almost two years ago, Y/N.”

“No…”

“You’ve been admitted to Gateway Mental Hospital as an inmate and you were assigned to be my patient.”

“This…what is…no…”

She could feel the blood rushing to her head. Her eyes darted back and forth. Visions of blood and the sound of pleads and cries pierced her ears.

Slash!

Y/N no! Please, please, I’m so sorry!

Y/N!!!! Don’t do this!!!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

Slash!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Splatter splatter splatter

I—I’ll always love you…

_________________________

“Time to wake up.”

Y/N could hear a voice…a sonorous voice. She stood up on wobbling legs and covered her ears. Y/N stumbled and hit the padded white wall behind her. Only one light soaring high above her illuminated the room. She turned to press her face into the soft yet firm wall to hide her eyes. She felt like a vampire.

She woke up from a dream. She was caressing her pregnant belly while sitting on the beach in the sand. She was alone and there was a sunset. She couldn’t see the man that had her sitting between his legs with her head resting against his chest, but she could see his bloody hands with deep slashes palming her belly.

Both hands were covered in tattoos. It looked like a scripture with faded ink. Squeezing her eyes tightly, a sharp pain in her temple had her keeled over in pain. She was having a migraine. Y/N was exposed from behind, the curve of her nude cheeks and the smooth dip in her spine on display for whoever could see.

“Y/N, this is Dr. Stevens. I’m at the door. Please, don’t fight today.”

A loud buzzer sounded off and she leaped away from the padded wall. Dark circles beneath her eyes, Y/N studied the heavy door. It opened and in walked Dr. Stevens with a tray of food. Behind him were two men wearing all white from head to toe. They had disgusted looks on their faces. Maybe that was a disguise, because Y/N could see past the pure hate in their eyes and sense desire. She wanted to rip their eyes out and feed it to them.

There is a table next to her bed mounted to the floor and Dr. Stevens placed the tray of food there. Y/N cut her eyes to the tray to see what it was. Her stomach rumbled then.

“Turkey and cheese. Apple juice. And a fruit cup.”

Y/N slowly looked up at Dr. Stevens. He was dressed in another white button down shirt again but this time he wore khakis that hugged his tight ass and strapping thighs. Brown loafers on his feet and a gold Rolex completed the look. His gold-rimmed specs were in his shirt pocket again.

“You haven’t eaten in 24 hours,” N’Jadaka turned to the men, “Go ahead, unchain her.”

The two guards gave each other a look before they both approached her. One man yanked the long chain connected to the cuffs on her wrists while the other crouched down to take the ankle cuff off. Y/N looked down at him with a burning desire to knee him in the face. He could feel her staring, so he looked up and glared at her.

“Whatchu lookin at, girl?”

His face was red with anger.

“Stop looking up my gown.” Y/N warned him.

He chuckled darkly, “you wish I was looking up your gown you crazy bitch—”

“Watch your mouth,” N’Jadaka shoved the guard, “Time to go.”

The guard got into N’Jadaka’s face. N’Jadaka stared at him with amusement with his hands folded in front of him and his feet wide.

“You gon’ hit me? Do it. I can have your ass fired in a heartbeat. I know how much of a dirty mother fucker you are. Did you think I forgot?”

The guard's face turned purple.

“Now, I suggest you get out of here. And don’t let me find out you’ve been harassing the female patients again.” N’Jadaka said.

He twisted his lips and clenched his fists but instead of making matters worse for himself, he stormed off leaving the other guard behind. They shut the door with a slam and N’Jadaka looked to the ceiling to calm himself. Every day he has to remind himself that he is a professional and this isn’t the time or place to get into an altercation. He’d already been warned many times in the past and it almost cost his license.

“Sorry about that,” N’Jadaka exhaled slowly, “I can get a little…why don’t you sit down and eat, Y/N?”

She watched N’Jadaka sit on the bed.

“Come on, sit.”

Y/N finally took a seat in front of the table. She pulled the tray closer to her with her finger tips. Picking up the sandwich, she slowly took a bite and began mashing it with her teeth. She could feel her teeth chattering as if she were cold. Her leg bounced with nerves and she could feel tears cascading down her cheeks.

“Good?” N’Jadaka questioned.

Y/N simply nodded her head.

“Is today better than yesterday?”

Y/N wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. She swallowed her food down before speaking.

“What happened to my baby?”

N’Jadaka paused. He leaned forward onto his knees with his elbows before locking eyes with her again.

“…you’re baby never made it, Y/N. You had a miscarriage.”

Y/N touched her belly gently. Her fingers gripped the gown tightly. Now she was bent over wailing into her food. Her tears soaked the bread of her lunch meat sandwich. N’Jadaka watched her cry, his fingers itching to comfort her. Pull her into an embrace. But, he knew he was being watched. The only place he couldn’t be watched was his own office. But Y/N didn’t have outside privileges for another month.

“I—I just don’t understand any of this shit,” Y/N sniffled, “Why would I kill them? I loved my sister. I—”

“The knowledge of the affair broke you. What you didn’t know, and what your mother failed to tell you, was that your father suffered from the same thing. He had obsessive-compulsive personality disorder and he suffered from delusions. It got so bad that he jumped out of a window to his death. When you started showing signs of the same thing, your mother kept it from you. She felt ashamed to get you the help you needed.”

Y/N couldn’t tell her reality from fantasy anymore. She felt like she was living a lie.

“April and Darrell didn’t deserve what happened to them, but that doesn’t make you a bad person, Y/N. You’re just ill. I’m here to help you work through that. You’re one of the most difficult patients I’ve ever had but that’s what I love about my job. I will never give up. I’ll find a solution.”

Y/N fidgets with the hem of her gown. The hard metal chair beneath her naked butt made her feel numb. She badly wanted to see her sister. Not bloodied and slaughtered, but smiling and full of life. Memories of Darell made her aware of her delusions at times. She hadn’t met Erik at a poetry reading, it was Darrell. The home on the beach belonged to him as well but there was no glass chamber, sound proof walls, and cuffs to the bed. So why had she replaced Darrell with Dr. Stevens?

“I am a bad person. I killed my sister and my fiancé because I found out they’d been fucking. Cut off the engagement, sure, disown my sister, sure, but murder them in cold blood like I did?”

Y/N pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes to stop herself from crying.

“These cuts on my hands…are from the knife…I used to kill them…”

“Y/N. Breathe. Remember the exercise I taught you. Breathe in and hold for five seconds then release.”

Y/N did the exercise a few times.

“It must feel very frightening to have these nightmares. To have these delusions.” N’Jadaka said.

“…why do I keep seeing you in my delusions as the monster when I’m the monster?”

N’Jadaka stands to pace back and forth in front of her. This was something he did often.

“…Sometimes a person with delusions will treat others as though they are someone else. It’s a reaction to the delusions. It’s a type of delusion called persecutory delusion. It’s when you have a belief of harassment or persecution. It also plays into your OCP.”

Y/N clung onto every word.

“…you’ve somehow decided to see me as the villain because I represent your current life. Your life is confined to these walls,” N’Jadaka placed his hands in his pockets, “you see my face everyday. You speak to me everyday. It shows that you are trying to fight your way through your recent struggles, but also you’re…”

N’Jadaka halted his footsteps. He stopped speaking mid sentence and blinked his eyes rapidly, as if he were remembering where he was.

“I’m what?” Y/N questioned.

N’Jadaka looked over his shoulder at the door and then he glanced over at Y/N. He struggled with what he wanted to say, but ultimately, he decided to keep it to himself. For now.

“I think we can end this session for today. I’m going to discuss with the hire-ups about resuming your personal sessions. I feel that with many eyes on us, no matter if they can’t hear, it doesn’t make this personal. Private. Do you understand?”

Y/N stared at N’Jadaka with a bewildered expression.

“I’m sorry,” N’Jadaka glanced down at his watch, “I have to go for now, it was nice talking to you today.”

He walked away and knocked on the door. The loud buzzer sounded off again and the door opened. Dr. Stevens left without a backwards glance and the door shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone to her thoughts.

______________________

Curls tangled, nails cut short, and skin dry.

Y/N was in the showers for the first time in a long time. She’s now back in her old room that had normal walls, a softer bed, and better lighting. She has all of the things she enjoyed from puzzles, books, and stress balls to warm sheets. She returned to the circle room that reminded her of a large sunroom where she could do a myriad of activities and even play games with the other patients. All supervised of course. The soft carpet with colorful shapes would feel so good compared to the hard floors in her room and those cozy socks with the sticky bottom would keep her warm and cozy on colder nights.

She was able to comb her hair out, pull it into a messy bun, and she was able to apply lotion to her body. All supervised. Despite looking like the undead with dark circles under her eyes, Y/N felt better. She wondered if they would ever get tired of putting her away for a month in the padded room. She can’t control her delusions. They know this. Y/N walked into the circle room accompanied by two guards and found an empty table near a window. She said hello to some of the patients that she recognized and found herself a puzzle to complete.

Now that she was living her reality, she felt so alone. No family, no friends, no fiancé, no baby. She was going to die alone and crazy. She mustered the little strength left within her to fight back tears. The only person who understood her was Dr. Stevens and she hadn’t seen him in three days. He’s always patient and understanding with her, even when she’s accusing him of being a psycho. Y/N wouldn’t admit it to him, but there was a part of her that couldn’t stop reliving the delusions because she enjoyed the way he made her feel.

He was attentive, affectionate, and assertive. The sex was amazing. While she sorted through her puzzle pieces, the thought of sex with Dr. Stevens had Y/N squirming in her seat. He would never think of her that way. A murderer who’s crazy? Nah. He probably has a loving family of his own. Probably leaves this hospital every night to go home to a home cooked meal, a hot shower, and wet pussy. He probably kisses his children good night and tucks them in like the good daddy he is.

The way he defended her and the glint in his eye and the rasp of his voice turned her on something vicious. She’d have thrown herself at him if it wasn’t for her current predicament. She desperately wanted to know what he’d wanted to say to her. Where is he?

Y/N looked up to see the nurses entering. They were bringing around snacks and their second round of meds. Y/N rolled her brown eyes and returned to her puzzle. One of the nurses finally came around and Y/N never put up a fight. She accepted her lorna doone cookies and orange juice. She took her antipsychotics in front of the nurse and washed it down with a small cup of water. She would have to speak to Dr. Stevens about them upping her dosage.

Thirty minutes into her puzzle and loud thunder brought her attention to the window. All the other patients seemed to gravitate towards the windows as well. Y/N closed her eyes and imagined herself dancing in the rain. Gown soaked, the smell in the air, the breeze blowing her curls into her face.

“I enjoy a rainy day myself.”

Y/N turned to see Dr. Stevens. He’s wearing a black long sleeve fitted sweater and dark blue jeans with black dress boots. His badge is clipped to his hip this time and he replaced his gold-rimmed specs with Calvin Klein frames. It must be a casual Friday for the doctors today.

“Where have you been?” Y/N asked.

“I took some time off. Another puzzle?”

N’Jadaka made himself comfortable in the seat across from her. He picked up the box to see what the picture looked like since Y/N wasn’t finished.

“The Disney castle. Cinderella’s castle?”

“Yes…you took time off to do what?”

Dr.Stevens placed the box back down and cut his eyes to Y/N. She clenched her thighs shut.

“To see other patients. You’re not the only patient I treat, Y/N.”

Y/N tilted her head at him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Y/N leaned into the table with her elbows, making herself closer to Dr. Stevens.

“I thought that I was the most difficult patient you’ve ever had?”

N’Jadaka picked up a puzzle piece, “yes. But I have to put in time with other patients as well.”

“I don’t like it,” Y/N cleared the table and placed the puzzle box at the end of the table, “what if I have another episode? I almost killed you, remember?”

“Breathe,” Dr. Stevens spoke with a hushed tone, “After dinner you will resume sessions with me in my office. Don’t worry, we can talk for an entire two hours about anything.”

“…and you’ll tell me what you wanted to say the last time but couldn’t?”

N’Jadaka lowered his gaze to his hands and his mouth twitched slightly.

“Breathe,” Y/N smirked.

“I have to go. Finish your puzzle. It keeps you focused.”

N’Jadaka rose from his seat and took one final look at Y/N before walking away and out of the circle room.

__________________________

Y/N adjusted the oversized heather gray pullover she had on that matched the sweatpants covering her lower half. The guard that had the chain to her cuffs stopped in front of Dr. Stevens’ office door. He knocked twice and she became jittery. The guard, Anthony is his name, looked down at her with annoyance. Y/N couldn’t recall the last session she had with him in his office, but she were nervous. No cameras. Just him and her.

“Thank you.”

Released, Y/N walks into the office and Dr. Stevens shuts the door behind her. Everything about Dr. Stevens' office screamed welcoming. The soothing colors surrounding her promoted a sense of calm and relaxation. The artwork on the walls told Y/N a little something about him. Art of the African diaspora. As her eyes scanned the walls, she came across the tribal mask she’d seen many times in her delusions. The mask Erik had worn the night he gunned down the kind man behind the club.

Plants decorated window sills, comfortable seating whether on the floor or a chair, and nothing distracting and triggering crowded the space. It smelled clean, and it felt like home. Y/N took a seat on a tufted dark gray chaise and propped her legs up.

“Welcome back, Y/N.”

“Feels good to be back,” Y/N pulled on the sleeves of her sweater anxiously.

“How was your day?” N’Jadaka asked.

“Better than I thought. I didn’t have a nightmare last night.”

“Oh? That’s good to hear, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

“Ha,” Y/N shook her head bashfully, “don’t say things like that.”

“That I’m proud of you?” N’Jadaka questioned.

“What is there to be proud of?”

“You’re improving.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why’s that?”

“Why’s that?” Y/N echoed, “Well, I’m still having episodes.”

“Fewer episodes. You’re getting better.” N’Jadaka clarified.

“I’ll feel better when it stops.”

N’Jadaka crossed his arms over his chest.

“You keep having these delusions so frequently because something is triggering it.”

Y/N creases her brows.

“Elaborate.”

“Let’s see,” N’Jadaka rolled up his sleeves and took a seat in front of Y/N on an ottoman, “You have these delusions because you still haven’t forgiven yourself for what happened. You want to blame everyone else around you instead of accepting what happened as truth. That’s one part of it. Another part is…your desire for me.”

Y/N leisurely looked up at N’Jadaka. They stayed that way for a moment, just staring at each other, never turning away. Y/N’s eyes welled with tears and she took her sweater to wipe her eyes.

“Is it that obvious?” She said between sniffing, “Am I really that messed up?”

“I never implied that,” N’Jadaka smoothed his hands down his face, “Desiring me doesn’t make you messed up.”

“Why do you give a fuck?” Y/N sassed.

“I’m supposed to—I’m your doctor—”

“N’Jadaka,” Y/N spoke softly, “Tell me how to get over you.”

N’Jadaka nibbled on his bottom lip. He shook his head and stood up from the ottoman. Why was he struggling with this? Having feelings for your patient? That’s completely inappropriate.

He had to come up with a response that was the complete opposite of what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t want her to get over him. He desires her just as much as she does him.

“…I keep thinking about the way Erik made me feel,” Y/N was staring off into the corner, lost in her words, “He has his demons, and he is a sadistic person, but he did it all for me. I was his world. He loved me and made love to me. And while I’m having sex with Erik in my delusions, it’s your face that I see.”

“…I told you why that is, Y/N, and why you have to let go. Every bit of information I’ve given you isn’t to steer you wrong. I can’t begin to imagine the struggle—”

“Ain’t no breathing or meds or forgiveness gonna stop me from wanting you, Erik.”

N’Jadaka locked eyes with Y/N.

“I’m not Erik, my name is N’Jadaka. And you refer to me as Dr. Stevens.” N’Jadaka reminded her with a stern voice.

“How long will it take for you to admit your feelings for me? Hm?” Y/N threw her legs over the side of the chaise, standing up, “This back and forth is getting old. You said that we could talk about anything, right? Let’s talk about Erik.”

“Fine. Fine.”

N’Jadaka motioned for Y/N to have a seat. She didn’t recline back this time. Her back is ram-rod straight and she’s staring across at N’Jadaka like she wanted to eat him alive. He kept the connection going, watching her closely.

“I thought you said that you hated Erik?”

Y/N pondered.

“I hate the way he makes me feel. He makes me feel helpless and complete at the same time. It’s scary. Like…being here kind of does.”

“Helpless and complete. Helpless in the fact that you can’t do anything about being here and complete…I’m going to be honest, what exactly makes you feel complete about your life now?”

Y/N stroked hair out of her face, “when I’m by myself…in my head…I feel…I feel alone. When I’m with you…I feel better. The hole in my chest fills up again.”

N’Jadaka’s jaw clenched.

“Yes, you’re Erik in my delusions, but you’re Dr. Stevens in my reality. It keeps me balanced.”

_________________________________

When N’Jadaka had first laid eyes on Y/N, he could see how broken she was. He has all kinds of patients with many behavioral disorders. Sociopaths, PTSD, obsessive compulsions, phobias. And yet, when he’d seen Y/N and learned of what she’d done after reading her patient profile, N’Jakada could see that she was different. Her case of delusions was something beyond what N’Jadaka had ever imagined.

To Y/N, her psychiatrist knows her inner thoughts and feelings better than anyone. She can say anything to him and he doesn't judge her, but only seems to understand her better. She feels safe and comforted whenever she sees him. He knows just when to hand her a tissue when she's about to cry, and they share laughs together because her sense of humor is so like his. She finds herself looking forward to sessions and even wondering what to wear. She daydreams about him and wonders if he feels the same special connection to her. Perhaps she's become his favorite patient.

“…These are typical experiences of what occurs in many forms of psychotherapy that focus on exploring and understanding the patient's inner psychological life known as transference. It means that the patient is transferring feelings she has toward a parent or authority figure, onto the therapist…”

“…Erik is like an authority figure to you. He controls you. He keeps you handcuffed to his bed and you can never leave that beach house. He’s overprotective. Dominant. Unhinged. I’m hoping, Y/N, that you’ll gain some insight into your distortions onto other relationships in your life. With my help, you can come to grips with this pattern, put your distortions into perspective and move on with your life.”

N’Jadaka tapped the pin in his hand against his notepad. Y/N sat wringing her hands, a nervous energy surrounding her. Maybe he was right. Maybe she didn’t actually love N’Jadaka.

“I’m going to put you under,” N’Jadaka stood up and walked over to Y/N, “I want you to lay back and prop your feet up for me…good…now, close your eyes…that’s it…now, listen to the sound of my voice…”

Erik stood behind her while she reclined on the chaise. Her fingers are clasped over her abdomen and she looks like a sleeping beauty. He studied the contours of her beautiful features–more so her lips, and then he cleared his thoughts to speak.

“You’re at the luxury beach house. You can sense that the morning is approaching. As your eyes peel open, you scan the room and reality hits you. You’re cuffed to the bed once again…what have you done this time to upset Erik?”

Below him, Y/N’s breathing increases. Her face is contorted with fear and she brings her arms above her head to mimic the position that Erik has her in.

“You can hear him coming into the room from the bathroom…what does he look like to you?”

Y/N licks her lips, “He–he’s naked.”

“Naked?” N’Jadaka’s eyes drop down to stare at her, “why is he naked?”

“I…I can smell the YSL body oil he puts on after he showers. It’s sweet yet…woodsy.”

N’Jadaka uses YSL body oil. He makes a mental note of that detail.

“So he’s taken a shower? What happens next?”

Y/N’s eyelids move rapidly.

“He crawls on top of me..I scream…he covers my mouth…”

Y/N folds her lips into her mouth to mimic Erik’s hand covering her.

“He says…don’t scream…I won’t hurt you…I love you.”

“Do you believe him?” N’Jadaka questioned.

Y/N arched her back, thrusting her chest towards N’Jadaka. His eyes scan her body, wondering what is happening now.”

“What’s happening, Y/N? What is Erik doing to you?”

“H–he’s sucking my nipples.”

N’Jadaka arched a single brow, “So, you’re naked as well?”

“Yes,” Y/N exhaled, “He prefers me naked so that I’m ready for him.”

“Hm,” N’Jadaka grips the edge of the chaise, “Why do you keep giving into him?”

“Because he’s so addictive. No matter what he does…oh!”

N’Jadaka walks around the chaise, staring down at Y/N. He could feel his heart racing in his chest.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“Yessss,” Y/N raised her legs and spread them open, “Mmmm…just like that…”

“You seem to be enjoying Erik’s pleasures,” N’Jadaka didn’t move when her foot touched his chest.

“Erik…why do you make me feel the way you do?”

N’Jadaka parted his lips but no words came out. Y/N’s sock covered foot smoothed down his chest until it was on his crotch. N’Jadaka inhaled, his fists tightly clenched as Y/N started massaging his erection with her foot. He couldn’t believe how hard he was. She would use her toes to rub the print of his tip and then she would slowly drag her foot up his shaft. He could feel himself throbbing and it ached him.

“Time to wake up, Y/N.”

To his disappointment, her foot dropped, but the throbbing didn’t stop. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. N’Jadaka took a seat on the ottoman to try and hide his stiffness when Y/N sat up. Her curly hair was wild and the sweater she was wearing was hanging from her left shoulder.

“You want to remain in these delusions because of Erik. I…I think it’s because of me and…maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Y/N said.

“Maybe it’s best that I stop being your psychiatrist. I feel that I am a trigger for you.”

Y/N was taken aback.

“Where the fuck is this even coming from?” Y/N argues.

“Watch your language,” N’Jadaka stood up, “I want you to get better. In order to do that, I have to make this sacrifice. I don’t want to—”

“Then don’t.”

N’Jadaka looked at her, “It would be for the best—”

“For you? Or for me? Who are we really talking about right now?”

N’Jadaka sighed, “For the both of us.”

“Explain!” Y/N commanded.

“Lower…your…voice.”

N’Jadaka turned his back on her. The silence between them stretched on but the storm raging outside matched their inner turmoil.

“Or what?”

N’Jadaka placed his pad and pen on his desk. Y/N’s eyes scanned from his sturdy back all the way down to his legs. His arms are covered in bulging veins from his fists being clenched.

“This stays between me and you.”

He turns, removing his glasses. He didn’t look away from her as he folded his frames before placing them on the desk. Y/N held her breath.

“I’ve grown to have feelings for you, Y/N. Feelings that I know I shouldn’t have. I try every time to–to be professional when it comes to you…but I can’t. I’ve become obsessed.”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“…And I know that I shouldn’t. Which is why we have to stop these sessions. There is another great psychiatrist here, Dr. Jane—”

“No. I refuse to see that bitch.”

“You know who she is?”

“Yeah, and I don’t like her. I like you. So no. You’ll just have to fight the urges.”

N’Jadaka stroked his chin, “And will you?”

Y/N turned away from him and looked out of the window.

“You have to make me that promise, Y/N.”

“That’s the thing,” Y/N stood and made her way towards Dr. Stevens, “I don’t want to…”

“Then we can’t do this,” N’Jadaka looked down on her with his arms folded, “You know what happens if they find out? I lose my job. My practice. I will never get to see you again. You’ll never get better.”

Y/N looked up at N’Jadaka through her lashes, “No one has to know…”

N’Jadaka chuckles. Those dimples she loved appeared in his cheeks.

“Easier said than done—Y/N, what are you doing?”

She’s on her knees in front of him now. N’Jadaka doesn’t make any attempts to stop her despite his words.

“Get up, now. I don’t want to have to pick you up myself.” He warned her.

“I like how demanding you can be,” She smirked.

He fought the urge to smirk and Y/N giggled.

“I plan to be here for the rest of my life, N’Jadaka.”

“Fifteen years isn’t the rest of your life.”

“That’s if I’m being good,” Y/N traces N’Jadaka’s solid girth with her finger, “and I don’t want to be good…and I think you like it when I’m bad, right?”

N’Jadaka grunts.

“Stop doing that.” He spoke darkly.

“Or…what?” Y/N challenged.

_____________________________

Somehow his pants found their way down to his ankles. His briefs were there too.

The tightest mouth was practically inhaling his dick. Tip to base. He couldn’t believe it. Not what he was doing, but how impressive it is that she could fit him all the way down her throat. That shocked him more than her sucking his dick like those popsicles on a hot summer day.

He was unbelievably hard. Each pass of her soft lips, wet tongue, and tight throat had him groaning. He lost all control and gripped her by her curly hair, guiding her. His hips started pumping as she was sucking and he imagined himself bending her over doing the same to her pussy.

This was madness. How long before he comes to his senses?

“Fuuck,” N’Jadaka spoke with a low register, “Suck that fuckin’ dick…”

He couldn’t hold back. Professionalism where?

He twitched in her mouth when she started slowly sucking on his top. He could feel his balls tighten.

“Y/N…that’s it…you’re such a bad girl…”

“…such a bad girl…yes…suck this dick like you would suck Erik’s dick…mhm…all the way down…that’s it…mhmmmm…”

She was back to doing it with no hands. N’Jadaka was staring at her with knitted brows and his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Does Erik make you swallow?” He questioned with a whisper.

Y/N nods her head.

“You better swallow every fucking drop of my cum, Y/N.”

Stroking him, she started sucking on his sack.

“I bet that pussy is so wet…”

She popped her mouth off, “It is…for you.”

“I can’t wait to see it for myself.”

She ran her tongue up the length of his shaft and back down to his balls. She twisted his length at the base of his tip and N’Jadaka could feel pre-cum oozing from his slit to prepare for his release.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long…that perfect ass…that pretty mouth…those eyes…I beat my dick to you in bed at night…”

“I play in my pussy at night because of you, Doctor,” Y/N looked up at him while stroking him, “and I can show you just how I do that anytime you want…”

“You’re such a freak…”

“And so are you,” Y/N smiled, “This dick is so fat..”

“Stop playing with it and suck it.”

Y/N alternates between sucking his tip and balls. It was the way she took care of him that had him lost for words. All he could do was grunt and moan. Tongue on the underside of his length, N’Jadaka groaned and the sound was deep and sultry. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he coached her to bring him to climax. Over and over she would bring him closer and closer.

N’Jadaka wasn’t prepared for the way his body seized all control. It hit him so suddenly. He quickly grabbed Y/N by the hair and shoved his hard dick into her mouth. He took control and pumped her mouth like a mad man. Spit flying and her gags filling the room, N’Jadaka spurt deep down her throat. His hips stuttered out of control the more she emptied him.

“Look what you made me do.”

His saliva covered dick bounced in her face. The thinnest stream of cum dropped from his tip and Y/N used her tongue to clean him off.

“Get up. We only have fifteen minutes left.”

N’Jadaka stepped out of his pants and took off his shirt. Y/N couldn’t believe how identical his body is to Erik’s. Muscles covered his entire frame. He had a thickness to him that screamed pick me up and toss me around.

He did just that.

N’Jadaka laid her down on the chair and started undressing her. She helped him so things could move along quicker. He climbed between her legs and took a nipple into his mouth. Y/N moaned softly, this feeling so foreign to her. She couldn’t recall the last time in reality that she had her nipples sucked on. To see this fine ass man do it and WANT to do it had her lost for words.

“That feels so good…please don’t stop, N’Jadaka.”

Y/N pressed her nose into his neck and inhaled his scent. He was warm to the touch and soft yet sturdy.

N’Jadaka popped a nipple out of his mouth, “I want that pussy in my mouth…”

Y/N shoved his head down between her legs. His teeth dragged over the skin of her abdomen before finding the mass of curls between her legs. That turned him on even more. Frustratingly, N’Jadaka positioned Y/N so that she was slightly on her side with one leg elevated and the other bent out of the way. He got down on his knees and spread her outer lips with his tongue.

“Ooooh, shit,” Y/N’s thighs shook out of control, “Dr. Stevens…”

With a fist full of his locs, she rode the pleasure. He had his entire face buried between her hairy pussy lips and he didn’t give a fuck. All she could see was his nose pressed into her mound and his eyes shut. He was making all kinds of sounds down there like some primal animal. That tongue and those plump lips were working overtime to make her cum. Whenever she would move her legs, he would force them back. His hands were firm and at times it hurt the way he was holding her legs. His tongue was unrelenting. His lips were lapping her up as if it were his last supper.

“Unh, fuck,” Y/N couldn’t say much else. He had spit dripping from her pussy. He had her clit swollen and sensitive. He was doing things with his mouth that she never felt before. Tongue in her pussy? Never. He had her muttering incoherent words when he used the tip of his tongue to flick her clit.

When he started sucking on her clit, Y/N had to cover her mouth to keep quiet. He opened his eyes then and watched her closely. It was an unspoken command to shut the fuck up and take it. What good will it do to make it known that he was eating her pussy? If she made a sound, it would mean no more of this in the future. Y/N couldn’t have that. Dr. Stevens couldn’t have that.

She couldn’t explain the way he was sucking on her inner folds. No words could describe it. He did it like he waited his entire life for this moment. The desire he felt for her resonates with the way his lips suckled her expertly. She could hear the raunchy sounds and to her shock he even dragged his tongue through her wet curls.

Y/N bites down on her lip, drawing blood, fighting with all her might to not moan out loud. When he started sucking all over her pussy with his hands on the back of her knees, leaving not one spot untouched, Y/N’s mouth dropped open and her eyes crossed. Toes curling, thighs shaking, body convulsing, she came in his mouth. The hold she had on his locs was enough to scalp him.

N’Jadaka finally came up for air. His heavy breathing and wet beard turned her on so badly.

“We only have eight minutes…”

He didn’t waste time picking her up and carrying her over to his desk. He pushed all of his belongings out of the way with a rush and sat her on the edge of his desk. She let him move her body in whatever position he wanted her in. He decided on holding her by her ankles up in the air and whispered in her ear to hold on.

“Keep still, Y/N. When I put this dick in you…you better not make a sound, understand?”

Y/N nodded her head and N’Jadaka wasted no time sinking deep inside of her. His eyes shot up to give her a warning look to keep quiet but how could she when he thrust inside of her like that? She wasn’t prepared. It’s one thing to have delusions about the dick, but to feel it in reality? He stretched her good.

N’Jadaka for a moment couldn’t believe how tight she was. He began snapping his hips into hers, wanting to feel it again, watching the way his dick would enter her. There was a lot of wetness down there. He almost slipped out a few times. Y/N had to hold his waist with one hand. His locs fell into his eyes and it reminded her of Erik. The way he stroked her reminded her of Erik.

“I wish I could take you home with me,” He whispered between strokes.

“So you can do what?” Y/N asked with a seductive tone.

“So I can put you like this and in any other position I want.”

“You love this fucking pussy?”

“Yes,” N’Jadaka pressed forward and held his dick there, “I don’t have to ask if you love this dick, I can tell…look at all this mess.”

Y/N’s eyes fell to the creamy mess all over him.

“Didn’t know that pussy could do that, huh?” He whispered.

Y/N’s mouth fell open but no sound came out. Tears fell down her cheeks because of his words and because he was hitting her spot. He picked her up and dropped her down onto his dick. She let him take control of her body. She was so small compared to him.

“Daddy, I can’t take it like this,” Y/N said.

“I’m daddy now? You’re gonna take it like a good girl.”

Y/N felt as if she was ready to burst, “Wait—”

“You pushing?” He looked down, “Don’t squirt…”

She didn’t listen. Thankfully it wasn’t a lot.

“You don’t listen, Y/N.”

N’Jadaka pressed her back against the desk and he was practically on top of her, dropping ten inches deep. She gasped, unable to control the liquid that followed. At this point N’Jadaka didn’t care. He was close. She felt amazing. What did he get himself into?

“This my fucking pussy…”

She didn’t argue that.

“Don’t look away from me,” He commanded, “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

Y/N was in a trance staring up at him. Her body jerked beneath him and as her back arched, she came all over him, making even more of a mess.

“Ahhhh, yes,” He withdrew his hips and came all over her stomach, “Hmmmm…”

N’Jadaka bit down on her shoulder. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. She wanted to stay like this. With his cum sticking to her flesh and his still hard dick resting between the lips of her pussy.

“We have to get dressed…”

Reluctantly, he peeled himself from her embrace. He helped Y/N down from the table and she rushed to get her clothes on. They were all dressed in time for Anthony to come knocking on the door. One last look at Y/N and N’Jadaka grabbed her by the face to kiss her. He hadn’t kissed her the entire time.

He broke the kiss, “Give us a second.”

His tongue slithered into her mouth and they kissed like that for what felt like five minutes.

“Alright,” he pulled away after she sucked on his bottom lip, “You have to get back to your room. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Y/N pressed her face into his chest to remember his scent.

“I’m looking forward to it, Dr. Stevens.”

N’Jadaka grabbed her by the hand and squeezed while his other hand tapped her on the ass. He walked her to the door and finally let go of her hand. Opening the door, Anthony was waiting patiently with her cuffs. She fought hard not to look back at him because it would give too much away.

“Same time, after dinner.”

Anthony started making his way down the hall pulling Y/N along, reminding her that she was imprisoned to this place.

@goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @theeblackmedusa @daddiespamm @lisayourworries @bellleame @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cecereads209 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @1lavender-menace @ehniki @electrixit @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @washillary @bakarisprincess @melodicheauxxlovesfood @bxolux @sweet2krazee @bluesole16 @90sisthenew80s @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @honeyandpeaches10 @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @angelicniah @queenfaithmarie @soulfulbeauty19 @asweet-serendipity @kartierkitten @iamching07 @ladymac82 @bbygirlwiththatass @cydneyloo @sexysativa605 @chrisevans-world @aijha @novaniskye @princessxotwod @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @neesiewrote @kenbieee @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @richgirlaesthetics @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @beautybyfire @abluesforlyssa @xo-goldengirl @mbakuetshurisprincess @4ftwonder @raysunshine78 @sensitivelegend @sourbabynaee @gotbeefbitch-blog @joonswan @cool-fancyone @efonteno @akimi-youngblood @badassdoll @shyblackgurl @childishgambinaax @teheeboo @skylahb @gigafaex @readingaddict1290 @circeaphoenix @xsweetdellzx @carewornblackgirl @queengodiva619 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @seyven89 @jamaicanqueenaa @soufcakmistress @eyeknowmywrites

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger smut #crazyerik

217 notes · View notes