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#the ever present promise of the grave
capn-o-my-soul · 10 months
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why is it so much work to just . not die like universe c'mon girlie why can't you just let me Wither
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 8 months
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Coming up with the idea to take Simon out so that he can pick out a couple pieces of lingerie he wants to see you in, his choices really surprise you.
Request from here.
The minute you brought up the idea, Simon was on board, ready to dish out whatever money he needed to spoil his princess. It seemed like a win-win: you get new lingerie and he gets the benefit of picking out a few items that only he would get to see you in. How could he ever say no to something like that?
The first day you were both off you headed out to the local mall, ready to go on a different kind of mission, one that already had Simon salivating and itching to finish so you both could get back with the items in hand. You did promise that as soon as you got home you’d model them for him and there was no doubt what would inevitably come next.
Walking into the Victoria’s Secret all 6’4” of Simon drew a few stares, but he didn’t care; he was focused on you just as he was any time you two went anywhere. Arms wrapped around your middle to hold your back against his chest as you both slowly made your way through the store.
“Remember, it’s what you want to see me in,” you reiterated the rules for this excursion.
“Best believe I remembered, luv,” he said, his gravely voice hitting you ear just right to make you shiver with anticipation. “Haven’t been able to think of fuck all else since you brought it up, but I think that was your fuckin’ plan.”
You passed by several things that you were sure he would have picked up, you did say anything so nothing was off limits and that included whatever string number he may want to strap you in. The point was to get him excited to chose the bit of wrapping he wanted around his present, not that he needed it. He’d take you in a trash bag and still think you were the hottest piece of tail around.
A severe lack of Simon around your body broke you out of your thoughts as he had let you go to walk over to a display off to the left of you. The way he locked on, it was clear something had caught his eye and you followed him over just as he picked up a bra and pantie set and handed them over to you.
Baby pink with a bit of delicate lace lining the top of the cups, a tiny silken bow in the middle along the rib band and the same matching bikini style panties that had a slightly larger bow on the back, that was his choice. It was very sweet and dainty, something a very soft girl would pick for herself.
“Really? This one?” you questioned, eyebrow raised curiously.
“You said to pick one I liked,” he said. “I like this one. Is that a problem, sweetheart?”
It wasn’t a bad choice at all, just surprising. Never would you have imagined Simon pick something so...quaint. In fact you were sure he would have gone straight for the string thongs or see-thru lace bras, so when he chose that one it caught you off guard.
“Not at all, just didn’t think you liked that sort of style,” you backpedaled, not wanting him to think he screwed up.
“I can like pretty shit too, luv. After all, I chose you, didn’t I?” he chuckled. “This is what I want to see coverin’ across that sweet arse of yours... well, until I get to admire it layin’ on my floor.”
Your cheeks flushed bright red. Fuck, how did he always do that? “I was the one that did the choosing,” you pushed the subject as you tried to dissipate the heat in your face.
“Oh, is that so?” he shot back coolly, moving back in close to take your chin in his firm grasp. “The one that still gets nervous probably wasn’t the one callin’ the fuckin’ the shots. Don’t force me to make that blush brighter just to prove my point, luv.”
Touche, he had won this round; you knew he would too, screw being in public. He wasn’t afraid of people staring as they had been staring at him his whole life, might well enjoy himself while he drew the eyes. You gave in and backed down, receiving a quick peck on your lips for your troubles.
“Now, let me finish my shoppin’ so that we can get outta here and get to the actual fun part,” he said with a smirk.
Lord, he was insatiable. That man could have your pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and still be hungry for more.
Going through the rest of the place another similar set he found after a bit more of searching, this one a pale yellow with a little silk flower in the same places the bow was on the first set. He handed over everything over to you so that you could double check the sizes and make sure it was correct before he took it back so that he could pay.
Always the gentleman to his girl.
That large palm was plastered to your inner thigh the entire drive back and every now and again he gave it a squeeze. His mind raced as his imagination ran wild with images of what you’d look like in his purchases: beautiful? Always, but these pieces were more delicate than the others you had and so he was curious to see just how pretty you’d look in them.
“You ready?” you asked through the door.
Once you got back, you left him sitting in his chair as you went off into the bathroom to get changed. He had chosen the yellow to go first, saving his real favorite for last. As you slipped everything around your curves, you had to admit that it was actually really cute and surprisingly not too uncomfortable as well.
Good job baby.
“Get out here now, beautiful girl,” he called back.
Opening the door slowly, you stepped out and sauntered your way to him, stopping just shy of the tips of his boots. Placing your hands behind your back, you stood twisting your body back and forth as you let him admire his choice.
Silently Simon eyed you up and down, taking you all in. “Well?” you asked after a moment.
Eyes came back up to meet your own. “Do a spin for me, darlin’,” he said, making a spinning motion with his index finger. “Slow like.”
Turning around smoothly at a steady pace, you came all the back around until you were facing him again. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked to your body.
“What’s the verdict?” you asked again.
The corner of his mouth unturned. “I’ve got good taste,” he smirked. “Exactly what I fuckin’ wanted. You look amazing, sweetheart.”
His approval made you smile, excited that he liked it, even though you knew he would since he was the one to pick it out. That obsessive stare gave you new life; who wouldn’t want to be the object of Simon’s desire? “Should I try on the other one now?”
Simon nodded his head as he adjusted the crotch of his pants and you scurried back off to the bathroom to change, fueled by his intense interest in you.
The pink on slipped on just as easy and you actually enjoyed this one even more as it enhanced your skin tone to perfection and the little details were so sweet you knew why this one would be his favorite; you could hardly wait to go show him how good you looked.
Coming back out again you nearly ran straight into him as this time he was leaning against the door frame as if waiting for you. He didn’t say a word, but you swore you could hear his breath hitch in his chest as he gazed down at you in that soft little pink number. Calloused fingers came up to trace over the thin ribbon detail, following the curves of the mini bow in the center of your chest.
“This one I really fuckin’ like, sweetheart,” he purred in that gruff, low tone that set you alight.
You swallowed hard, your pulse racing in your veins already. “I have to admit you did really good baby,” you said. “Never thought you’d pick something so pretty.”
Fingers traced the line of the band under your breast along your ribcage before they came back up. “Like you in pretty, sweet things,” he said, slipping a thick finger into the top of the band between the cups. “Bows and flowers, light colors, that sort of shit. Suits you best, luv.”
“Aww,” you picked at him. “You going soft on me?”
That finger fully hooked itself into the fabric between your breasts and pulled you forward, making you take a step to bring you in closer until you were flush against his chest. Those amber eyes shimmered as he tilted his head down close to your neck. “All the shit I’ve to deal with at work, don’t ya wanna give this bastard somethin’ beautiful to touch?”
Well, when he put it like that…how could you deny him?
“My pretty little thing, so goddamn sweet,” he said with a groan, exploring hands releasing your bra so that they could run down the line of your back towards your hips before coming to a stop just under the curve of your ass. He cupped the cheeks one in each hand, massaging the meat in a circular motion.
Hungry lips embraced your neck, quick, burning kisses connecting with the skin to leave a trail of fire where he went. His arousal was already pressing up against your thigh as his hands on your ass squeezed harder; he had been worked up all day and seeing you all pretty for him it pushed him over the edge.
“Just wanna fuckin’ corrupt my little flower, ruin her pretty petals with my fat cock,” he breathed against the nape of your neck. His warm breath wafted down your collar bone to the tops of your breasts, making the skin pinprick with goose pimples while his words worked on your nerves to send you into a tailspin.
Were you supposed to stay sane after that? Because it just got really, really hard to think straight. “Yes,” was the only word your mind could form and you moaned it against the side of his head.
Fingers flitted around the waistband of your panties, outlining the band around your hips before it found the band descending between your legs; he followed that with his fingertips as well. “Mmmm, my beautiful girl, you know no one else even comes close?” he groaned. “Got the prettiest little thing around. Sets me on fuckin’ fire, how lucky I am to have such dainty thing at my disposal.”
Desperation gathered in his movements as he pawed at your body, causing you to respond to him as all your nerve ends across your skin began to ignite like he had just lit a match.
Without warning you were picked up and brought over to the bed where he set you down carefully along the edge. In an instant he had dropped down to his knees before you, one large hand gathered at the back of your head to pull you into his face so that he could press his lips desperately to yours. Wet, aggressive kisses he greedily stole from your mouth over and over again as he moved up into you.
“Lean back for me, darlin',” he said against your mouth.
Releasing you from his grasp you did as Simon said, laying back on your elbows so that you could still watch him. Hands on your parted thighs to steady himself, he swooped in. His face was at your pubic bone and he opened his mouth, collecting the waist of your panties in his teeth before he was pulling them down your legs, undressing you completely without the use of his hands.
Well damn, you had been curious to see how good they’d look on the floor since he had brought it up, but who could have predicted that they would look exquisite in between his teeth?
…Definitely a good choice indeed.
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astralnymphh · 28 days
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♯┆spacesoldier/spacescientist!ellie: who won't shut up about the hookup between you and her from the night before, and longs to do it again, fully. .ᐟ ★
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literally don't question the randomness of this blurb. i run on revelations and sudden visions, and this one was just too hot to let rot. i had to pause a whole request for this thing. and it's a bit rushed, i'll like expand on it some other time i just wanted to return to this trope. anyways, I digress— space scientist ellie, nine month voyage through the cosmos, hookups.. tipsy hookups.
it'd be morningtime in the wake of certain events preceding that memories would slowly begin to prick through the surface— owing to ellie's imperfect subtlety. hills and hills of planetary research, prototype weaponry, instructions on how to properly utilize said prototypes, and coffee-stained reports, dawdled through like the process couldn't get any more boring than it presently is; stress, procrastination, a murk in the thick of your thoughts— literal brainrot. then, the main office zone gate slides open, that little airy whir pulls through your ears, and the person that walks through foments sudden recollection to the promotion party last night. ellie. a new recruit under your stations wing— and the immodest girl who was under your hood many hours ago.
ellie is a damnable pesterer of love; portending that if you've ever been intimate with her, she'll be stuck to you like an idiot's tongue adheres to icicles in wintertime. and tipsy her definitely was after you two had sex: pleading for you to stay a minute longer to cuddle, pressing every work-related praise hot into your nape, mentioning how good you taste out of the blue, so on and so forth. yet now that it is a bright and advantageous morning, and considering that she woke up to the scent of you woven through each fiber of her clothes— she remembers, and she reminds.
ellie's got her legs crossed, arms crossed, leaned against your desk's edge, small butt of hers rudely stamping one of your precious folders; the usual stance she does when you're plying your trade, and she prying for attention. "seriously. thursday, you and me, conference room number twenty-seven, i'll bring wine and fetch dinner from the canteen— please?" an earnest ask, you can sense it in her tone; evenly pitched and soft, softer when she pleads, as always, albeit that the spaceship you dwell in has no actual restaurant so dating environments are centered around some good old D.I.Y and empty meeting rooms. her foot winds out slightly to tap the spokes of your office chair, nudging the focus you so dearly casted to the papers below you, to her instead. which regrettably works; tossing an eye roll as you spin, "dates and recreational dinners don't fit into anyone's schedule here, you know that." it aches to claim that, and aches harder to see her take that hit of an that answer. watching her head drop and her mouth tug into a contemplative shape that wanted to battle it out with excuses, loopholes, promises— but it forms into a grin rather, and decides to be impish. "had time for last night though, didn't we? a great time, actually, n' i wanna see where that.." her voice sinks into the pit of her throat— deep and reserved — and her thumbs start to do that cute fiddly thing at her waist, rolling over each other while the rest of her fingers intwine and overlap, "—takes us?" modifying her words into a delicate, unsure question. a toothy, one-sided smile and sad puppy brows, ugh you could just pinch her cheeks. but of course, she spices up the deal, "hopefully.. back into my room, if my flirting skills aren't total shit." annoyingly rambling as a way to showcase how gravely you've impacted her mind the last twelve or so hours. so grave, you're the only thing her motivation could cling upon to urge her limbs and weasel her sluggish weight out of bed earlier. "please?"
that please chisels a smile into your lips, unfortunately-fortunate, "god, you're so bad, williams." poking fun at her and coasting the wheeled chair away with the back of your knees straightening, rising from your seat with documents in-hand, and agreeance in-mind; written ripe on your lifted cheeks.
"was i?" said indirectly, a cocky implication twisting her cheeks to the same level as yours. it took you— let's say, two, three, awkward seconds of squinting before you understood her crafty-ass joke that took your words a completely different, and lewd direction. stupidly faced too: cocking her brow with the scar slicing through, and cocking one side of her head upwards too, overall just cocky. now you could just squeeze her annoying face until it exploded. figuratively.
"shut up." "okay."
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MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . READ THIS . PALESTINE MP . DOC VER
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puppy-steve · 6 months
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promise you forever
steddie ☆ 971 ☆ cw: none ☆ appalachian eddie ☆ ao3
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“phone for ya, eds,” wayne chuckles as he comes out of the house to the front porch where everyone’s sitting. “think your boy’s had one too many.”
eddie frowns and stamps down the worry bubbling inside him. steve rarely ever drinks anymore. doesn’t smoke anymore, either. not since starcourt. eddie slides off the porch swing where he’d been sitting with his aunt pep and goes inside to the wall phone in the kitchen, the receiver laying on the counter.
“steve?” he says, lifting the phone to his ear.
“country boy, i love youuuuuuuu!”
steve’s words are slurred, which doesn’t make eddie any less panicked. what happened? was he okay? eddie leaves to visit his family for one week and he can’t seem to escape the horrors that hawkins, indiana seems to breed every day.
“stevie? baby, you okay?” eddie tries to keep his voice from shaking.
there’s a laugh on the other line and steve flat out yells into the phone, “eddie! hi!” yep. he’s definitely drunk. eddie strains to hear any background noise that would give any hints as to where steve is at, but it’s silent.
eddie’s knuckles grip the phone. “where are you, sweetheart? are you safe?”
steve makes a grumbling noise, like he’s talking to someone else and eddie doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse.
“i’m fiiiiiine, eds,” steve says after another second of grumbling. “teds. teddy. teddy bear.” he starts listing ever iteration of eddie’s name, and eddie doesn’t want him to stop. if he keeps going, then eddie knows he’s not in immediate danger.
“dingus! stop hogging the phone!”
wait.
“robbie, i’m trying to talk to me boyfriend,” steve whines and there’s sounds of a scuffle and “no—hey—robin, it’s still my turn—!”
“hi, eddie!” robin’s voice is suddenly in his ear and sounding just as drunk as steve. jesus christ, eddie’s never leaving them unsupervised again.
eddie sighs and runs a hand down his face. “robin, where the hell are you? and why are you drunk?” these two are gonna finish what the bats started and put him in an early grave, he swears it.
on her end, robin groans. “dingus!” she scolds steve. “you didn’t remind him?”
“remind me of what, bobbie?” eddie asks. now that he’s sure the two of them are somewhat coherent and probably not in danger, he feels so fucking tired all of a sudden.
“it’s my birthday, doofus!”
well now eddie feels awful. steve reminded him before he and wayne left, but in all the excitement of seeing the rest of his family again, it slipped eddie’s mind.
robin continues, “and you, theodore munson!”
if eddie thought he was off the hook, he’s dead wrong. he’s never hearing the end of this now. it’s not likely, but maybe luck will be on his side for once and she’ll forget this conversation ever happened.
“you owe me a birthday breakfast, lunch, and dinner when you get back. and you have to buy me a present.”
eddie rests his forehead on the wall as a laugh bubbles up out of his chest at the ridiculousness of the situation. “alright, birdie,” he promises. “as soon as i get back, i’ll start right on it and get you the most expensive present i can afford.”
“it better break your bank account, munson!” she threatens, but eddie knows she’s bluffing.
“alright, birthday girl, can you put steve back on?”
robin yells out for steve. “you better not be doing any hanky panky on my birthday, dingus,” she warns before steve comes on the line.
“hi, baby.” he’s definitely still drunk, but he’s quieter, not yelling into the phone like he was a few minutes ago.
warmth fills eddie’s chest and he leans his shoulder on the wall, angling himself away from the door to give himself a sense of privacy in case anyone comes inside. “hey sweetheart,” he says just as softly. “you two having fun?”
he can practically see steve’s nod. “mhm,” he confirms. “miss you, though. wish you were here.”
eddie’s gonna marry this boy someday, just you wait.
“i miss you, too, sugar,” eddie tells him. “wayne said he thinks you’ve had a little too much to drink.”
“no i haven’t!” steve’s voice raises for a second before dropping back down again. “just had one… three… four beers, i promise.”
eddie hums, not bothering to hide the amused grin on his face. “uh-huh. s'at why you sound drunker than a skunk, right now, sweet thing?”
steve huffs and eddie wants so badly to kiss the pout off his boyfriends lips. “m'not drunk,” he says without any real argument.
“alright, i believe you,” eddie concedes. he can’t help but to let a little worry back in. he bites his lip. “can you promise me something, stevie?”
steve’s answer is immediate and almost shatters eddie’s heart. “i’ll promise you forever, teddy.”
eddie takes a breather to calm himself down so he doesn’t jump in wayne’s truck and make the five hour drive back to hawkins. “promise me you’ll call nancy if either of you start to feel weird?”
steve hums in his ear, like a purring cat. “i promise, baby. cross my heart ‘n everything.”
eddie grins and wishes he was there in front of him so he could touch him. “thank you. i won’t keep you any longer, then. i’m sure birdie’s getting impatient.”
“she’s always impatient,” steve huffs. “it’s her best quality.”
there’s no argument there.
“i love you, stevie. call me tomorrow when you wake up?”
steve sighs softly. “i love you, eddie.” he makes exaggerated kissing noises over the phone until he hangs up.
eddie hangs the receiver up. he’s here in his grandmother’s kitchen, surrounded by his family, but his heart has never felt as full as it does in this moment.
🥐☕💕 buy me a coffee? taglist: @yournowheregirl @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy @tboygareth @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @sidekick-hero @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd
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wynsummers · 8 months
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i've been thinking about the whole "friction in his jeans" thing a lot lately, and while it is certainly one of the more iconic instances of the lyric in the CD booklet being different from the actual song, it is far from the only one. on top of that, there are quite a few lyrics that play with double meanings that only become clear when they're written out.
so, i present a collection of every lyric in the fob CD booklets that differ from the final version, punctuation and double meanings that aren't noticeable unless the song is written out, and any other interesting details i find in the process, or a really long post of me cornplating about fob:
disclaimer that if the difference is small enough/doesn't change the meaning of the line i won't include it because that would take me years (for example, the book says "light that smoke for giving up on me" and patrick says "yeah, one for giving up on me" but literally who cares that changes nothing. everything i include here is relevant, i think)
follow-up disclaimer that there are a bunch of fucking typos in every single one of these books because these boys never proofread anything but unless i think it's significant in some way i probably will skip it
TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE:
tell that mick:
"I hope you choke on those words, that kiss, that bottle - I confess / now ash yourself out on the insides, when I said I loved you I swear I lied"
grand theft autumn:
"someday i'll appreciate in value, get off my ass and call you... but for the meantime i'll sport my brand new fashion of waking up with my clothes on at 4:00 in the afternoon"
saturday:
"pete and i said goodbye to astoria with promise and precision and mess of youthful innocence"
(most of these are just silly but this one fucking hurts)
sending postcards:
"fake it like you matter - cause that's the biggest secret you have to keep"
chicago is so two years ago:
"that means that I believed every single lie you said (and learned from the best)"
"cause every pain of glass that your pebbles tap negates the pains i went through to avoid you / and every little pat on the shoulder for attention fails to mention i still hate you" (pain of glass instead of pane of glass - i think this is supposed to be a parallel. that or pete just misspelled pane)
patron saint:
"I'm holding out and I'm holding on to every letter and every grudge"
*flashes forward 20 years to hmlag*
anyway
FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE:
our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldn't get sued:
"we're good friends only when you're on your knees"
sugar:
the icon, the legend
"don't mind me, i'm watching you two from the closet wishing to be the friction in his jeans" 🎉🏳️‍🌈
dark alley:
"joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of 'just friends'"
"I'm hopelessly hopeful that you're just hopeless enough"
champagne for my real friends, real pain for my shrimp friends:
"you steer away in a rearview mirror, make my head swim"
i slept with someone in fob:
"someone old, no one new / always borrowed, always you"
THIS ONE!! THIS FUCKING ONE [CAR CRASH] [SIRENS]
ahem. anyway
sixteen candles:
"i confess, i'm just messed up / dropping 'i'm sorrys' like you're still around"
XO:
"to hands"
(that's it. no "between legs, and whatever it takes" just hands. just fuckin. to hands)
"to hotel stares/stairs" (wordplay!! to clarify it literally says "stares/stairs" in the book)
"choose awe or sympathy"
also in the last verse it says 'to the "love"' with the quotes which is just kinda funny
INFINITY ON HIGH:
this ain't a scene:
"crashing not like hips or hearts"
i'm like a lawyer:
"i only keep myself this sick in the head cause i know how the words get you (off)"
"collect the bad habits that you couldn't bare to keep" (idk this one might just be a typo)
hum hallelujah:
similarly, this might also be a typo, but "versus" is spelled "verses"
(after) life:
ok. ok. hear me out. this is the cornplatiest i have ever been. but on genius it says "death's in a double bed"
and on the lyric book it says "deaths in a double bed"
that changes everything!!! (not really, i know) it's not death as a concept or figure or whatever it's deaths. as in multiple people dying. aaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaughhhhhhhhhhh
moving on
carpal tunnel:
"we take the sip from life's lush lips"
the line "we might've started singing just a little soon" isn't listed, it's just the goodbye line twice
"but i'm just tired yawns for fawns"
you're crashing:
"the cause, the kid, the charm, and the curse"
ginasfs:
"lips pressed this close to mine"
"but the prince of this failing empire knows" (hhhnnnggggggghhh)
"i've already given up on myself once but the third time is the charm" that's not how numbers work pete <3
"just kind of figured on not figuring myself out"
FOLIE A DEUX:
folie a deux doesn't have a lyric book. just portraits of the boys with empty white pages that have their names written on them. my poor beautiful masterpiece
BELIEVERS NEVER DIE VOL. 1:
fnowae:
not a lyric but for some reason the whole fuckin song is in quotes
SAVE ROCK AND ROLL:
the phoenix:
another punctuation thing but instead of "hope to die" it's "hope-to-dies"
"you're wearing our vintage misery"
alone together:
"my heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broke in" instead of "broken" (i love double meanings!! i love wordplay!! i love pete wentz!!)
where did the party go:
"i will appear to you if you make yourself shake fast enough"
the mighty fall:
the lyric book straight up doesn't have big sean's part 💔
rat a tat:
at the end there's this "talk less / mean more / let's be electric / like we were before" that i have literally never heard so i'm assuming it's a neat little cut lyric
save rock and roll:
"i will save the songs / the songs we're singing"
AMERICAN BEAUTY / AMERICAN PSYCHO:
irresistible:
"coming in announced" this one. this one's just a typo. come on boys it's been 12 years at this point read the books more than once
"i just dragged my nails on the tile / i just follow your scent" ?? idk
"this will not be a battle"
ab/ap:
for some fucking reason it just says "she's an american beauty" three times at the start of the song 😭
"and as we're drifting off to sleep" isn't in there, it just says "and all those dirty thoughts of me, they were never yours to keep"
the kids aren't alright:
indulge me once more, reader. i am cornplating again
instead of "former heroes who quit too late and just wanna fill up their trophy case again" it's "wanted to" do you understand why that makes me insane
also they have it as "will put your curse in reverse" instead of "we" which could be a typo but could also be a neat little change
uma thurman:
"you cut me deep like uma thurman"
jet pack blues:
"i'm the kind that can turn june to september / the last one that you'll ever remember"
"between these two white highway signs"
immortals:
"i try to picture you without me but i can't"
M A N I A:
hold me tight or don't:
the line "i'm pretty sure that this isn't how our story ends" isn't included
wilson:
"i know it's just a number but to me you're the 8th wonder"
sunshine riptide:
they didn't include any of burna boy's lines 😒
SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST:
smfs doesn't have any lyric changes that i noticed, just the usual typos.
update: future emma here, upon further contemplation I have decided to add the line "I'd never go, I just want to be invited" since the first verse definitely says "I'll" (thank you sugarweregoinin and foliejpg for inspiring this revelation)
and there we have it! if you're insane patient enough to have made it until the end, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed! if there are any i missed/any in CDs that i don't have please let me know i find these so fascinating (if you couldn't tell). i just love getting glimpses into their writing process and seeing how the songs we know and love evolve before they get to us. i might also do a post about how spotify/genius gets a bunch of their lyrics wrong because it pisses me off but this is all for now, good day/night!
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Before I Go
Note: I had no intention of writing anything today, as my insecurities are high again lately, but before I knew it this was written and I don't hate it? Anyway, I guess this explains that messy hair he had at the start of Seven Kings Must Die. (Chapter two is here)
Warnings: 18+! some angst/fluff/suggestive/light smut.
pairing: Sihtric x you (f)
summary: Your husband had to leave unexpectedly.
wordcount: 1,8k 
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You felt your husband's rough and warm hands on your skin, gently holding your face and carefully wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes, even though you had tried so hard to hold those back.
'Don't cry,' Sihtric whispered, a pained look set on his face, 'please, don't.'
'When?'
'In a few hours.'
'And when will you be back?' you sniffled and looked up at him, meeting his teared up mismatched eyes.
'Soon,' he promised and kissed your forehead.
'How soon?'
'Very soon. I'll be gone for only a few days, my love.'
Sihtric wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, holding you tightly in his embrace after having told you that he had to leave Dunholm and travel to Bebbanburg. The grave news that King Edward had died had only just reached you, and Lady Eadgifu and her youngest son, Edmund, were already fleeing to Bebbanburg after the death of her husband. And your own husband was being dragged into potential danger by escorting them to Uhtred, along with Aldhelm. You had been living in peace in Dunholm with Sihtric for a while already, and the former warrior had retired from war years ago. You had gotten so used to having him around day and night while living in peace, and you wouldn't want it any other way. But now that a king had died you knew the peace you had tasted would soon be over, and you also knew that if a war would happen, your husband would be present in the battle at the front line, behind his shield. And that thought was simply unbearable and one you never hoped to have again.
'You know bad things are going to happen when the news spreads,' you whispered, frightened, 'I don't want you to fight, Sihtric.'
Your husband hushed you, and you pulled out of his embrace to look up at him. Sihtric looked torn. Torn between wanting to protect the lands and its people if a war would erupt, and torn between wanting to stay with you and protect you, because he knew losing you would be something he would never be able to recover from. He looked down into your eyes with his lips pressed into a thin line, his brow furrowed, and his hair loose and slightly pushed back.
'I don't want you to fight,' you urged, 'I don't want to lose you.'
'Darling,' Sihtric shook his head lightly and cupped your cheeks again, 'I know. But now is not the time to talk about this. We can't stop a war from happening-'
'But you don't have to get involved,' you hissed through your tears and punched his chest, 'you don't have to escort the Lady Eadgifu to Bebbanburg and become a target!'
'My love-'
'No!' you interrupted with a sob and another punch landed on his fur covered chest, but it did not phase your husband, 'I don't want you to go. You have fought in enough battles when you were younger, you have done your duty! Enough is enough, Sihtric! You are not a young boy anymore, you are a husband! My husband! And I need you here, with me!'
You looked at him with anger and despair in your eyes, feeling hopeless, and you wanted to slap his face to snap him out of the battle mode he was already slipping into. You could see it in his eyes and you could just feel it in his touch. You knew he was going to battle when it would come, and you hated him for it. You despised him for it. But you loved him more than you could ever hate him and his thirst for blood and violence, so instead of slapping him you fell into his arms again and cried as he held you.
'I will return to you-'
'When?' you snapped and pulled away again, 'when will you return? Because we all know how this goes. Uhtred will ask you for help, and you just can't say no,' you said, resentment clear in your voice.
'I-,' Sihtric tried again, but you didn't give him room.
'It is never just a few days, not with Uhtred!' you continued to spit, 'and you know it too, so don't tell me-'
'Listen to me!' Sihtric suddenly raised his voice and cornered you, your back pressed up against the wall while he towered over you, his breath feelable on your skin, 'listen to me,' he lowered his voice again and spoke calmly, 'I will return to you, soon. Even if Uhtred needs my help, I promise you that I will come back before anything happens. I will come back for you first. I will come back to you before I go to battle, always.'
A deafening silence filled the dimly lit kitchen you were in, the candle flames' sizzling almost hearable while you and Sihtric stared at each other with a mixture of pain, fear, love and passion. You calmed yourself before you wanted to speak again, knowing that your husband would do whatever it takes to return to you, but that didn't make your worries any less and the thought of never seeing him again after tonight was overwhelming.
'I will come back before I go to battle,' your husband insisted, as if he could read your mind.
'But what if you won't?' you sniffed, your jaw clenched as you looked into his eyes.
Sihtric sighed and took your face, leaning his forehead against yours and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.
'What if you won't?' your voice trembled as you whispered your question again, your hands grabbing onto the neck of his tunic, keeping him close, 'Sihtric?'
Your husband exhaled slowly and sharply, then swallowed hard before he parted his lips to speak.
'Then it means I'm dead,' he said, his voice deprived of emotion.
'Sihtric-'
'You know that too,' his hands found your waist, grabbing you needily, 'you know-'
'Don't,' you begged, 'don't say that.'
'You know…,' Sihtric said sternly, his tattooed fingers digging into your dress as he held your waist in a bruising grip, baring his teeth at you for a split second before he bit down on his lip, '... you know I'm dead if I don't come back for you,' he took a step back and pulled you away from the wall, pulling you with him towards the dark wooden table in the centre of the room, 'you know I'm dead if I don't come back for my wife,' he almost snarled, baring his teeth again and he lifted you up on the table, 'but I'm not leaving my wife just yet.'
Sihtric trailed his hands down your figure, to your legs, pushing up your skirt and sneaking his hands underneath the fabric, feeling your skin and squeezing your thighs while he parted your legs with a quick push of his knee. He then brought his hands to your knees, wrapping underneath them and he pulled you up to him with one swift move, placing himself between your thighs. Your lips parted as a sharp gasp escaped you, his strength never failing to impress you, and he used the moment to capture you in a passionate kiss with his tongue gaining immediate access into your mouth.
Your hands moved up his clothed arms, over his shoulders, his neck and up into his long hair. You gave his locks a firm tug, which earned you a strangled moan from your husband as well as a firm slap to your buttocks. You couldn't help but giggle at the punishment, to which your husband chuckled darkly and then smacked his lips as he leaned slightly back to look at you. He took your hands, guiding them down to the leather belt around his waist while he bit down on his lip as he smirked, his eyes hooded and dazed. A light blush coloured both you and your husband's cheeks as you undid his belt, even after all these years the passion and playfulness had never left your marriage, and you would forever remain excited youngsters when it would come to intimacy.
'Good wife,' Sihtric hummed after you had dropped the leather belt on the floor, and he took your face to kiss you deeply again.
You got lost in his kiss, your hands hastily searching for the hemline of his tunic, which you pushed upwards once you got a hold of it. You snuck your hands underneath the layers, feeling his warm thighs while he began to kiss you sloppily, his hands tangled in your hair and his tongue down your throat. You grabbed his bare buttocks, giving him a playful squeeze to which you both chuckled against each other's lips, before you took his hardened member and worked him by hand with teasingly slow strokes, feeling his pre-fluid coating your fingers. Your husband's breath became heavier, needing air and breaking the kiss, only to drag his lips and tongue down your neck to lean his forehead onto your shoulder as he tried to bite back a moan.
'I love you,' Sihtric groaned against your neck, then planted his lips on your skin in another attempt to stay quiet, leaving visible love bites as he did.
'I love you too,' you breathed, one hand grabbing onto his wild hair as you continued to please him and prepare him, 'just come back to me,' you whispered in his ear, 'promise me you'll come back to me, Siht.'
'I'm coming back to you,' your husband gasped, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist while he slowly bucked his hips into your hand, 'I promise,' he peppered your neck with wet kisses, 'I promise, my wife, I swear it.'
Sihtric then moved his hand down to yours and took it, gently placing your hand back on the table and lining himself up with your soaked entrance.
'Tell me again,' Sihtric said out of breath and brought his lips back to yours, 'tell me you love me.'
'I love you,' you murmured against his lips, 'forever.'
'Forever,' Sihtric breathed, his eyes closed and his lips parted.
And a sigh of relief and pleasure sounded from you both as he pushed himself inside, making slow and deep love to you until you were both left satisfied, after which he wrapped you in his arms and laid you down with him on the kitchen floor, only moments before he had to depart, leaving soft kisses all over your skin wherever his lips could reach.
'I love you,' you whispered and sweetly kissed the tip of his nose while you traced the scars on his face, wondering how many new ones he would return with.
'Tell me once more,' Sihtric whispered, pleading as he looked into your eyes, 'before I go.'
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steviewashere · 15 days
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Love, Rest Your Head
Rating: Teen and Up CW: Canon Typical Injuries Tags: Pre-Season 4, Aftermath of Starcourt Mall, Aftermath of Torture, Season 4, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Steve Harrington, Major Character Injury, Established Relationship, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma, Mentions of Vomiting, Self Sacrificing Steve Harrington, Mentions of Major Character Death (In Reference to Hopper), Foreshadowing, Ambiguous Ending
💕—————💕 The news was pure devastation. Overhead shots of the Starcourt Mall burning. Flames engulfing the building on all sides, swallowing it up until it sat a collapsed, ashen mess. There was no structure. No semblance to any kind of store that was inside. Just dust. Blackened walls. Melted floor tiles.
Eddie sat on the edge of the couch cushion, left hand tucked harshly under his thigh, chomping down on his right hand’s fingernails. There was a metallic tang on his tongue, but he couldn’t get himself to stop. Not even when the raw, exposed parts of his skin bared themself as a tender ache in his mouth’s warmth. Nothing could stop him. In between bites, there were moments where he was holding his breath. Gasping for it when push eventually came to shove. At least it was air he was choking on, not bile.
His uncle was stoic in his recliner in the corner. Until, with the quietest and gruffest voice Eddie’s ever heard, Wayne said, “Your boy. He’s in the parking lot. Has to be.”
“What if he isn’t?” Eddie barely mustered. “What if—What if he’s not there in the parking lot with all those ambulances? What if Steve’s stuck in the debris and he can’t get out and nobody can hear him and then he doesn’t come home and I never—“ He was back to choking on his breath. Sipping at the smallest pockets of air he could manage.
Wayne didn’t answer. The promises that could be made in this moment, every single one of them could be a fallacy.
Then, the news reporter read out those who suffered in the fire. That crisped with the building. Ones that couldn’t be recovered. Ones that were found, yet only identifiable by the licenses in their pockets.
Jenna Kinling Parker Smith Tony Roberts Billy Hargrove…
Eddie bit his fingers harder at that last name. Maybe they didn’t run in the same circles or maybe they weren’t friends. But Billy was still a young dude. He had a life ahead of him. They had classes together. What if…What if…What if, rings loudly in Eddie’s head.
Except, Steve isn’t listed. Neither is his new friend, Robin. They aren’t…They weren’t found in the rubble. They weren’t believed to be in it either. And, as if on cue, the trailer’s phone begins to ring. Eddie is up and out of his seat before he has a chance to miss a single ring.
“Munson residence, Eddie speaking,” he answers hastily.
On the other end is the wet, nasally, raspy breathing of another person. The deeper the breaths, the more he can make out it’s somebody masculine. Their intakes are interrupted by small sniffles. Short bursting whimpers that come from sure pain, not pleasure.
“Hello?” Eddie speaks quietly.
The person gasps. Sobbing around the words, “Eddie…Eddie, I need help.” Steve.
“I’ll help, sweetheart,” he promises immediately. “What do you need? I—Uncle Wayne is here, too. We can help. We can—“
“‘M at the mall. And it’s all charred and…and gone. And I think I—I left your birthday present in Scoops and I’m sorry that I—My head hurts, Eds. It hurts and I’m bleeding and the paramed—they think…Billy’s dead and I watched him die and it scared me and—I don’t like him, I don’t like him at all but he looked sad and he looked…He’s dead, Eddie. I watched somebody die, Eddie,” Steve rambles. His words are heavily slurred. Barely breaking by his breath. Almost swirled by puke. 
Before Eddie has the chance to interrupt, Steve is continuing. “I protected Robin from getting hurt,” he says seriously, gravely. But his next words are tiny, as if Eddie was listening to a child, not his eighteen year old boyfriend. “You’re going to be mad at me.”
“Why?” He asks. Shakes his head though, and asks instead, “Where should I pick you up? Does Robin have a ride home?”
“I got beat up again,” Steve barrels on. “’T’s really bad, Eds. Everything is ringing. Makin’ me nauseous.” His breaths grow heavier as if he’s ready to retch on his sneakers.
Eddie prepares himself to hear it all, because he knows it’ll happen. Knows it like the back of his hand, unfortunately. From how many other times Steve’s been concussed. Yet, he doesn’t care, saying, “I’ll take care of you here at home, but I need you to tell me where I need to pick you up. Does Robin need a ride?”
Steve mumbles, “She already left. Hugged her and everythin’. Rob—Robin’s safe. I protected her from getting hurt. They were going to hurt her, Eds. It would’ve been my fault for getting her involved.”
The words crawl under Eddie’s skin like spiders. He wants to scratch at himself, get them out of his head. Get away from how small each word is that comes from Steve’s mouth. He wants to find out who ‘They’ are and kill them. Wants to rip this world apart for making Steve sound so…horrified. But he just calmly asks, “Where are you, Steve? Where at the mall are you?”
“Front,” Steve mutters, “at the payphone. The one with all the gum on the back. It’s gross, Eds. I feel gross. Smell like—I’m sorry.”
Eddie just swallows harshly. Doesn’t know why Steve’s apologizing. But he’s scared shitless, that’s for sure. He grabs for his car keys on the dining table. “I’m going to hang up, Stevie. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
The last thing he hears is Steve coughing and retching up his lungs. Spiders work their way into his veins.
——— Sure enough, Steve’s by the payphone. Sitting with his knees up to his chest. Leaning against the thin pole of the phone. Inches away from whatever lunch he had last. Doesn’t look like much. Eddie just thought Steve was busy with work and relaxing at home. Though…Eddie’s starting to piece together that maybe Steve never left work. Like he’s been here way too long.
Steve shivers where he grasps to himself and Eddie approaches with great caution.
He crouches down to Steve’s level, keeps his hands to himself, and speaks softly. “Steve, it’s Eddie. I brought you a jacket. And some water. I’ve got crackers. You ready to go home?”
With his one good eye, Steve looks to him. Blood caked around his nose and mouth and chin. Eyebrow split, though covered with a butterfly bandage. His left eye is swollen shut and a deep, concerning purple. A part of Eddie almost wants to ask who left Steve here like this. To sit by himself and hold to his elbows. But, a stronger part of him cares too much about making sure Steve gets home.
Slowly, Steve reaches out his right hand and grasps at Eddie’s left wrist. Thumb harsh over his pulse point. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. Without any fanfare or warning, Steve’s eyes fill with tears. Streaming down his face in sluggish lines. “I was stupid and got in trouble again and now I’m all…I’m all broken and ugly and I smell really bad and you’re gonna have to stay awake with me because I’m not allowed to sleep and I—“
“Baby,” Eddie whispers lowly, “Steve, I’m just glad that you’re alive. I’d rather look after you all beaten up and bloody than…Well, y’know.”
“Why aren’t you mad at me?” Steve meekly asks.
“Do you want me to be mad at you?”
With great force, Steve shakes his head. Hissing and hiccuping at the pain that surges through him. “It hurts so bad,” he whimpers. “I just—They were going to hurt Robin and—and the kids. I couldn’t let them do that and now I—“
Eddie gently shushes him. “You don’t need to explain yourself right now, okay, sweetheart? We’ll talk about it when you’re better.”
“What if I never talk about it?”
He shrugs. Wraps his free hand over Steve’s where it still grips him. “Then you don’t talk about it,” he whispers. “Let me take you home, though? Give you the food and water I brought. Warm you up and change your clothes. Can clean your face,” Eddie lists. He cups the injured side of Steve’s face with a tentative hand, barely touching his swollen skin. “Clean this all up and brush your hair. Let you sleep.”
“I can’t sleep for long,” Steve reminds him.
“Wake you up every few hours, that’s fine. I don’t have school tomorrow, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“‘M’kay,” Steve agrees quietly. He’s drooping in Eddie’s hold. Exhaustion quickly swamping him. “Sorry if I throw up in the car.”
Eddie gently hefts them up off the ground, leads them towards the van, and gets Steve situated in his passenger seat. He murmurs, as he buckles Steve in, “I can clean up. But I’ll leave the window rolled down. I’ll drive slow. Do you want the jacket?”
Steve shakes his head softly. His eyes are closed and the rest of him is very still to his seat. As if moving anything physically pains him. It probably does, based on what Eddie’s able to see. “I don’t want to be reminded of the heat,” he state quietly.
“Okay,” Eddie whispers. He leans up into Steve’s space, presses a short kiss to his temple, and cranks the passenger window down. “Just lean towards the window a little. Rest. I’ve got you, baby.”
The car ride is incredibly slow, it makes Eddie antsy. But out of the corner of his eye, he notices Steve tensing at every gradual rumble and deep pothole. It makes Eddie want to just get out and push the van. He slides a hand off of the steering wheel and goes to grab Steve’s left wrist, but he jolts away. Head colliding solidly with the window frame.
“Don’t,” Steve bites. “Don’t touch me there,” he whispers.
Eddie swallows down the sudden rise of bile in his throat. “Okay, Steve,” he murmurs right back. “Do you…you need me to pull off for a second? Give you a break from the bumpy road?” Steve gives a slow and tentative nod.
He pulls to the shoulder, parks in silence, and just sits in the driver’s seat. Face forward, eyeing beyond the windshield. He’d turn on the radio, try to fill the gap between their bodies, but knows that the noise would be too much. Instead, he listens in on Steve’s audible deep breaths. Like he’s trying to ground himself to the carseat or maybe veer away from puking out the window. Eddie wants to touch and soothe, like he normally would during Steve’s concussions. But…he can’t. There are tears percolating in the corners of his eyes.
“You need water?” Eddie quietly asks.
“Please,” Steve mutters lowly. His voice is crackling and snotty wet.
Eddie moves slowly between the front seats, grabs an unopened bottle of water, and uncaps it. He leans across the center console to find a straw in the glove box. Plops it in the bottle and offers it up for Steve to take. “Slow sips,” Eddie states, “don’t need to make yourself sicker.” Steve angles his body away from the window, leans forward slightly, and takes the straw between his lips. Each swallow of water looks like he’s trying to consume rocks. His tongue working slowly, hesitantly against the straw. Testing it. “You’re doing a good job,” Eddie can only praise.
When Steve pops off the straw, it’s with a gasping breath. Catching and falling and catching again. He lolls his head on the seat, looking over to Eddie. Chest moving up and down with shallow, croaking shakes of air. “We can go,” he rasps, “I wanna sleep.”
The water bottle goes to the cup holders. And Eddie does what he’s told. Crawling slowly back home. Taking small pauses to check in with Steve, help him drink water, nibble on some crackers, rub his back when he hurls out the car window.
But when they make it back home, they move in complete and utter silence. Through the front door and to the couch. Wayne ogles the two of them, fear present in his eyes. His mouth hangs open, suckled dry of all words he could ever think to say. Eddie makes him grab a bowl of warm water and a rag.
And they just exist in silence.
In fear, Eddie now realizes, of whatever happened to Steve.
Because they’re not stupid. This wasn’t a fire. There was something else. Something more…disastrous. Dastardly. But Eddie places the bowl on the coffee table, sits on Steve’s right on the cushions, and turns them towards each other.
“Alright, I’ve gotta clean the blood off of your face, Stevie,” he encroaches their silence. “I’m going to be really careful. I’ll go slow. But I need you to tell me when you need a break, okay?” Steve blinks groggily at him. His eyes are dilated beyond belief. Eddie’s nauseous just looking at them. These aren’t the eyes he fell in love with.
These eyes are like terror in existential form.
Steve nods, though. He places a shaking hand on Eddie’s left knee. Doesn’t tighten it, doesn’t pet the fabric under his hand, just rests it there. As if he’s searching for an anchor.
Eddie wets the wash rag with the warm water. Raises it to Steve’s chin. “If this hurts, you need to tell me. Here we go.” The rag stains pink and crimson as soon as it touches Steve’s skin. He hates how hard he has to press just to work the blood off, but it’s dried to him. It’s coming off in flakes, Eddie sees the particles fall to Steve’s dirtied uniform. As he works the rag over Steve’s face, he can’t help but notice how stained and red the uniform is, too.
It used to be something Eddie could tease Steve about. Be flirtatious and saucy about it. Talk about stupid things with. Make dumb fantasies and see if Steve will play into them. But looking at it now only makes Eddie’s chest hurt. Makes his stomach turn uneasily. Shrivels something inside of him that will never live again. But he’ll get Steve into his clothes. Get him comfortable. Maybe he’ll burn the uniform when Steve isn’t looking. Rid of it like a demon needing to be expelled.
The last bit of the blood finally comes away, flaking from Steve’s nostrils to the washcloth. Eddie places it back in the pink tinted water. And then he looks back. At Steve’s child like eyes. And his split lip. The plum like bruise around his left eye.
Eddie’s never had homicidal thoughts, but today might just be the eye opener for him.
But he continues to be gentle. Offering, “Let’s get you some of my clothes. I’ll wash your hair in the bathroom sink. Then, you can rest.” Steve just nods, allows Eddie to pull him along to the bedroom, and change him out of his clothes. Ignores the slight bruising on his ribs, where he most likely struggled or fell. Tries to not think about the red, twisting lines across Steve’s chest, arms, and wrists from where he’d been tied. Just covers Steve back up in reds and blacks and soft things. And, while Steve is looking away, throws the Scoops uniform away in a nearby waste basket.
Washing his hair is no struggle. Steve goes listless and quiet when Eddie scrubs at his scalp, carefully detangles knots that were glued together by sticky blood. He barely blinks as he watches Eddie move and go through his hair washing routine. Doesn’t protest any of what Eddie chooses to do—even when he puts too much conditioner in the ends of his hair or doesn’t do two wash throughs with the shampoo, even if he uses a hair dryer instead of a towel. Allows him, which Eddie finds a little odd. He has an inkling, though, that it may just be the gentle touch that Steve doesn’t want to mitigate.
When they’re back in bed, Eddie lays flat on the mattress. Putting space between their two bodies. His alarm is set for three hours from now, where he’ll wake Steve up and make sure his concussion symptoms either are stagnant or lessening. But for now, he just stays put. Eyes up at his ceiling, stomach turning and knotting at whatever happened today.
Whatever happened almost doesn’t matter, knowing Steve made it out alive.
But there’s a haunting to him that Eddie can’t ignore.
Right when he thinks Steve is asleep and goes to close his own eyes, does he hear the smallest of statements.
“Hopper died, too,” Steve murmurs.
“No…”
Steve nods sagely against his pillow. “Heard about it through some of the kids I babysit. Guess he…Guess I wasn’t the only one to make a sacrifice.” Eddie hears him shift, coming closer. His body warmth radiating and tight against his rigid body. There’s a hesitant palm that slithers and sits on Eddie’s chest. Where his heart beats rabidly. “Could…Could’a been me.”
Eddie places his own hand over the back of Steve’s. Presses them together firmly. His chest caving with the push. “Don’t say that,” he harshly whispers. “Don’t…Steve, I thought it was going to be you. Please don’t say that.”
“Sorry,” he mutters. “I just…That’s the only thing I could think of before you got me. How I—I almost didn’t get to see you again.”
“At least you’re with me now, right? I’m just glad that you’re alive.”
“Yeah,” Steve croaks. “I just wish I could bring myself to tell you what happened.”
“Don’t need to do that, Steve. Just rest up and get better for me, alright?”
Steve shuffles closer. His head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. He nods. “Thank you. I love you,” he sleepily murmurs.
Eddie wraps an arm around his back and squeezes him tightly. “I love you, too, love bug. Get some sleep and I’ll check on you in a bit.”
The snores are a comfort after tonight.
——— And when he looks Steve in the eyes, mere seconds before he leaves for Vecna, Eddie understands the harrowing sacrificial fear. He’ll be the one to protect Steve now. “Make him pay,” he says. But he knows, reflected in Steve’s eyes, that there is finality in his stare. His stomach turns and his hands shake, but damnit, he’ll make sure that Steve won’t be the one drowning in blood this time.
He hopes to hear snores against his shoulder tomorrow night.
If night comes.
💕—————💕
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fortheb0ys · 4 months
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BOTTOM KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK × TOP MALE READER
☆TRUE LOVE ISN'T MEANT FOR SOLIDERS ☆
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Just some short angst for you, pookies😘 Gaz Nation rise!
CW: angst, talking about death, sex (i wasn't too descriptive with it), not proofread and I wrote this very quickly tehehe
FEM ALIGNED+MINORS DNI
Being friends with benefits was supposed to be a fun little thing. Just sex, no strings or feelings attached. Something to help relieve stress. But to Gaz your relationship with quite the opposite. He loved you when he should have never had.
Even though he promised himself that he'd walk away the moment he felt that feelings were there, he would end it before they grew. He could never keep that promise.
It was never a one time thing. He'd see you in the showers after a mission and be on his knees with you in his mouth within minutes. Or late nights talks under the stars would turn into outdoors sex.
The moonlight shining dimly on two sinful bodies. Gaz arching his back to look at the moon instead of your handsome face. He'd imagine your face if you woke up in bed on a lazy morning. War doesn't ring loudly in your ears. Just you and him. No fear. No guilt.
But what if sex wasn't enough to dull the gnawing emotions. It was always there at the back of Gaz's mind, slowly creeping to the forefront. It's presence became more and more as time progress. Showcasing itself outside of your private time.
Like when he saw how you've became close with Soap. He'd invite you to do things off base, drink or to watch football. Without him. Did you fuck Soap like him? Did you call him 'baby' like you would him?
Questions filled his mind. Knowing he'd never get answers, Gaz pushed his feelings away. You weren't his and never will be, he'd tell himself. To you, he'd be just a stress reliever. If Gaz were to die, you'd never bring flowers to his grave or cry over missing him.
Your gentle thrust ground him to the present moment. He rocks back to meet you halfway. Tears are threatening to leave his eyes. Not from pleasure but simply from the pain the wrecked through his heart.
You'd kiss all over his his face. Fingers tracing over his lips. The loving pecks felt real but they shouldn't be. You look into his eyes and smile. It was so caring and beautiful. Everything about you was. Gaz wished that if he were to die, that you would be the last thing he ever saw.
"What's the matter, baby?"
The nickname coming from your mouth was true heaven.
I love you. Please, I need you to love me.
His heart screamed out. But the words never left his mouths.
"Nothing."
Gaz knew it was so wrong but it felt so right. He keeps his promise for a few weeks than comes right back.
Your bodies fit too perfectly for it not to be fate. Gaz just feels like it's too much of a risk to be together and serve. Servicemen with benefits was better, right? Just sex and no feelings. Pleasure in the midst of war.
Missions were hell. He constantly worried for you. Nearly gotten himself killed multiple times trying to keep you safe. It became such a problem Price seriously debated on separating the two of you.
Gaz should step away. Step away before it's too late. Before sees his beloved dead on the battle. Stomp out the feelings of love before it consumes him.
Gaz always wonder if you felt the same. Did you feel the constant fear that he would no longer be with you eat away at your bones? Did you love him as much as he loved you? Did the way you fuck mean love? You were so tender and gentle, love had truly been there to some extent.
The time to ask never came, though. It would never. Gaz was too afraid if he did that, you'd say, 'Yes'. That his feelings would grow. He was more afraid of that outcome more than if you said 'No'.
Deployment. Fuck. Repeat.
Every night together, Gaz would wake up before to a heart full of regret. Dirty from sex. The smell of it hung heavy over him. The shame faded as you held him close. Your soft snores were the only thing auditable. Just one more time. Tomorrow morning, Gaz would be gone this time. He dosed off thinking of a universe where you could be together without the fear of losing you.
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nr1chaedickrider · 2 months
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In my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side - it seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye.
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In many ways, our memories shape who we are. They make up our internal biographies—the stories we tell ourselves about what we've done with our lives. They tell us who we're connected to, who we've touched during our lives, and who has touched us. They provide important details of who we are and who we would like to be.
for @namojoon.
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The process of healing wounds is long, painful and exhausting.
Sometimes it hurts even more than what has happened.
At least that's how you would describe your healing process.
You look through the window of your small but pleasant house.
After Momo died - or rather, was murdered - you decided to stop serving as a knight for your kingdom for the time being.
Of course, you promised Tzuyu that she could always come to you in an emergency, that you would forever be a knight serving her kingdom without hesitation.
Letting go was difficult, sometimes you even had the feeling that Momo was still standing in front of you, laughing, crying and doing everything with you.
Maybe you still haven't let go completely, maybe you never will, you just know (or at least hope) that things have gotten better.
You still wonder what happened to Sana.
Even if you partly don't want to know, a part of your body -
a tiny part of your body -
worries about her.
And you hate yourself for it.
You walk through the kingdom, making a, well, daily detour by her grave.
You kneel down in front of the grave, brush down a leaf.
Every time you are there, you make sure that it stays clean, that there is no damage.
Somehow you have the feeling that you have to do it, but you don't mind.
"I love you" you whisper, your hand slowly stroking the engraved words.
You've partly gotten into the habit of not reading what's written on it, maybe it's a sign of ignorance.
But you just feel better if you don't have to read the words every time.
You don't always have to be reminded.
'Hirai Momo, a fighter, a person full of love'
You hate reading it every time.
You sigh softly and get up.
One last look at her grave - even though you know you'll be back tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and so on.
You wipe away the tear that runs down your cheek.
The path to the village is quiet, the birds are chirping, the wind is almost non-existent.
You greet the people who walk past you and realize that they still treat you differently.
Their eyes are full of concern.
The only thing people think of when they see you is -
"Poor her. I wonder how she's doing"
And you don't know whether you should think it's good or bad that that's all they think about.
"Y/n!" someone shouts, you turn around and see Chaeyoung walking towards you.
"I've been looking for you for the last few days, can you come with me?" she asks.
You're confused, but nod. She takes you by the wrist and pulls you along as you both walk to her house.
She sits you down on a chair in her living room as she walks around.
You know she often has a lot of energy - but this much?
She comes back with a small bottle, the contents liquid and yellow in color.
She looks at you after placing the bottle on the table in front of you.
"Okay. You have to listen to me, let me finish, because it's going to sound weird at first," she says, and you nod.
"Have you ever heard of the theory of the multiverse?" she asks.
You shake your head - you've never been interested in all the theories, you've always preferred to think about what's happening in the present, what "makes sense" to you.
"Okay..." she starts to say, thinking before continuing,
"So, basically, the theory is the idea that the observable universe, the universe we're in right now, is only a part of the whole reality, and there's supposed to be a multiverse that contains numerous possible universes," she explains, and you look at her, slightly confused.
Chaeyoung takes a breath and tries to say it as simply as possible.
"It may be that you can travel through universes to see other situations and worlds, do you get the idea?" she asks.
"I think... but why are you telling me this? and why the bottle?" you reply.
"How can I say this..." she mumbles.
"Since... Since Momo is gone, I've been working on something, and I think... I think you can travel through the multiverse with this potion," Chaeyoung replies.
You look at her and feel your mood change completely when she mentions Momo.
"But... But why are you telling me exactly?" you ask.
"Because I need someone to try it out... and I think you deserve it the most. Because if it really works, you can see Momo in other universes.
In ones where she's not dead," she says.
In which ones where she's not dead?
You swallow as you look down at the floor, then back up at Chaeyoung.
"How likely is it that it will really work?"
"Pretty much," she replies.
"I'll do it," you say.
"Really? Are you sure? It could be dangerous"
"I have nothing to lose anyway"
Chaeyoung nods.
"No one can see you while you're traveling, which means you can go anywhere you want. But after a certain time, you may end up in another universe"
"Okay"
"Drink it, and when you feel dizzy, it will start to work" she says.
"I'll stay here and make sure everything goes well"
You nod and pick up the bottle.
"Okay" you say, but somehow you say it more to yourself.
You pull the cork out of the bottle and the pungent smell immediately hits your nose before you drink it.
You put the bottle back down and take a deep breath.
In and out.
In -
And out.
But before you can concentrate more on your breathing, you feel a stinging sensation in your head.
Chaeyoung is standing next to you, paying attention to how you're feeling.
"I think-"
You can't finish your sentence as your eyes suddenly close and it feels like you're being thrown around.
Your eyes open as you see lights everywhere, some colorful and some so dark you can't even call them lights anymore.
Your body floats and you try to look around, but your head won't move.
You try to reach somewhere, but you fall to the ground before you can do it.
The first thing you feel is grass under your fingertips.
You slowly open your eyes and look around, but the only thing you see are trees.
You stand up, pacing back and forth before you hear voices.
You walk through the bushes to see who's talking,
And even though you expected it, it's still so strange.
In front of you is Momo, holding a sword.
Opposite her - it's you.
It's like the first time you saw her.
"You shouldn't be here," says your other self.
"Says who?" asks Momo.
You run towards her and attack her, but Momo quickly moves out of the way.
This is a universe where you and Momo are enemies.
Just like at the beginning.
You continue to watch as the two of you fight each other.
Blades clashing, the tension high and thick.
"What are you doing here?" your other self asks through clenched teeth.
"What are you thinking? Hm?" Momo asks teasingly.
It looks like you've had enough, because you push her away -
and thrust the tip of the sword into her throat.
You are startled when you see it, Momo falls to the ground with a stupid grin on her face.
"That-...that was a mistake...," she says, choking on her own blood and your other self pulls out the sword.
The sight of Momo hurts your heart.
It reminds you too much of the night she died in your universe.
The fact that this is another universe though, calms you a little.
Your other self leaves Momo alone and walks away.
So you go to her, even though she can't see or feel you.
Her gasping for breath worries you as you kneel before her.
"Momo..." you whisper, even though you know she can't hear you.
You're actually just talking to yourself.
It's as if she's looking at you - and a part of you hopes so, so much that she'll somehow realize that you're there, that she'll somehow feel you.
You sigh softly, but not a disappointed sigh.
Momo stops breathing - stares into the distance without any emotion on her face.
The sight could make you cry.
But before you can look at her any longer, you feel something strange in your body.
The effects of the potion kick in again.
You stand up and look down at Momo one last time.
Your eyes close as the lights start to flicker again.
And again it feels like you're being thrown around.
You land on your knees on a floor, a stone floor to be precise.
Your eyes open and try to adjust to the light.
As you look around, you realize that you are in a church.
Upon closer inspection, you realize that it is the church in Tzuyu's kingdom.
You stand up and look around.
It is empty - except for two voices that break the silence.
You walk towards it - and see a confessional.
And then you see yourself, on your knees.
Your head is bowed as a priest comes to you.
"Why are you here, my child?" he asks in a calm voice.
"I have come to confess my sins, Father. I'm afraid I've done something bad." you reply, your voice has a hint of fear in it.
"What have you done?" he asks.
Your other self takes a breath and then starts talking.
"I was seduced by a woman. It's as if she stole my heart and took it as her own. I can't think of anything but her.
And I don't know what to do, father."
When you hear your words, you don't know how to react.
You wouldn't claim to be a religious person, but seeing you ask a priest for help somehow hurts your heart.
In this universe, you can't accept that you love Momo.
In this universe, you are afraid.
And this feeling is a little too familiar.
"My child, don't be afraid," the priest begins to say,
"It's good that you've come here to confess your sins to the Lord,
And he will forgive you for loving a woman. Pray for him every night,
and he will help you to stop,
and your heart will be yours again."
You bite your lower lip, not knowing how to react.
You'd like to tell your other self that you should do what you want.
That it's completely stupid to listen to the priest.
That you should keep loving Momo.
As long as you have the chance.
But your other self nods, thanks the priest for his help and leaves the church.
You run after her, wondering where she's going.
"Y/n!" Momo shouts, running to you with a smile.
In this universe, you two are not knights.
"What were you doing in church?" she asks.
You're just two friends.
You shake your head and say that it was nothing important.
Momo doesn't ask any more questions, but takes your hand and says that she has to show you something.
She pulls the other you away and you are now standing alone in the village.
You look around and see Tzuyu walking around smiling.
It somehow makes you happier to see that she's doing well.
But you notice something -
She's holding a man's hand?
You look confused, and then it occurs to you.
Not in every universe is she with Dahyun.
And you think that's why Dahyun looks so sad as she walks alongside Tzuyu.
It somehow looks weird - seeing Dahyun and Tzuyu not linked together and giggling like teenagers in love.
Your confusion disappears pretty fast as the man gets distracted and Tzuyu shoots a smile at Dahyun.
Her cheeks flushed when she smiles back, her hand on Tzuyu's for a second until she pulls back to not raise awarness on them.
Dahyun is not a queen in this universe, but just a normal girl.
A normal girl who is hopelessly in love with her friend.
And somehow it reminds you a little of your situation.
You sigh slightly.
You walk in the direction Momo pulled your other self towards, but you fall to the ground and can't walk any further.
The effects of the potion are already kicking in again.
"So fast...?" you ask yourself as your eyes close.
The same thing happens again -
Your body is thrown back and forth, the lights flicker and after a certain amount of time you land on the ground.
The first thing you hear Momo's voice.
Then yours.
And finally -
Sana's.
Sana's voice?
Hearing her talk, so happy, without a care in the world, makes you angry.
And how you wish she could see you, because if she could, you'd kill her with your bare hands.
Without hesitation.
You get up and walk towards the voices.
The closer you get, the more you can hear what they are talking about.
You hear laughter -
and moaning?
Moaning?
And when you stand in front of them, you are more shocked than you have probably ever been.
Momo's hand is in your pants, Sana's mouth is on your neck.
In this universe, all is well between the three of you.
No hate, no sadness, no one betraying the other.
You keep staring at them - it's like you can't take your eyes off them.
Somehow this is a dream.
Maybe even the universe you would prefer to live in?
"I love you," Sana says, leaving kisses all over your body.
"I love you," says Momo as she pushes her fingers in and out of you.
"I love you too," you moan.
Sana loves you?
Momo loves you?
You love them both?
It's as if all your negative thoughts about Sana are gone - you just want to jump into her arms.
The sight brings tears to your eyes, seeing how this is your dream universe.
And somehow you are glad that you can feel yourself getting dizzy and that the potion is starting to work again.
Your eyes close.
When they open again, the sun blinds you.
You get up and look around you.
A small river, a meadow with beautiful, colorful flowers.
There are no houses nearby and you wonder where exactly you are.
You walk around a bit and realize how this place resembles the tales of paradise.
"Where am I..." you mumble.
Several meters further on, however, you finally see people.
Two people, to be precise.
And as you get closer, you see it.
Mina and Sana?
"Mina," says Sana, as if she had been looking for her for ages.
"Sana," Mina replies, with a smile.
While Sana is dressed fairly normally, Mina is wearing a white dress.
The fabric looks quite thin, fine patterns are depicted on the dress.
She looks like an angel.
"I've missed you so much" says Sana, her expression so... soft?
"I missed you too Sana" Mina says and comes closer, her arms open and Sana almost runs towards her.
They hug, and you even think you hear a sob from Sana.
The two slowly let go, Sana looking at nothing but Mina.
"I'm so sorry. I wish you were still here..." Sana says, wiping a tear away from her cheek.
"Don't be sorry Sana," Mina starts to say.
You question whether you're even in a universe right now, or whether you've landed here on a spiritual level,
However, this is Sana's last farewell to Mina.
You are here in a place where the dead can communicate with the living.
"It's not your fault Sana,
or anyone else's," she says.
Sana nods a little, the tears still streaming down her cheeks.
"I love you," says Mina.
"I love you too. Forever and ever." Sana replies.
As you listen to them, it all starts to make sense.
Sana didn't love you, or Momo, or anyone else.
She loved Mina, and she died.
That's why Sana was so angry with Momo.
"I will never forget you, I will never stop honoring you, until my last breath I will think of you." Sana says and Mina takes Sana's hand in hers.
Mina has a reassuring smile on her lips.
"Thank you for being here," says Mina.
"I wish you could stay here longer, but your time in paradise is slowly coming to an end Sana" she says, her thumb stroking Sana's hand.
"I know," she sighs slightly, but then smiles at Mina again.
"So this is our final goodbye?" asks Sana, Mina nods.
"I'll always be with you" says Mina.
Sana nods.
"I love you." she says again, and before Mina can say it back, Sana slowly dissolves and disappears.
Mina looks down at the floor and repeats Sana's words to herself.
When she looks up again, she looks you in the eye.
You look left and right to see if anyone else is standing there, but no.
She's looking at you, no one else.
She walks over to you and stops right in front of you.
"You're Y/n, aren't you?" asks Mina.
"Y-yes. You can see me?" you reply, and she nods,
"Have you been listening to us?" she asks.
"Yes,
I didn't know you and Sana had such a relationship" you say, Mina smiles a little.
"She doesn't like to talk about it. But yes, I was her lover" is Mina's answer.
You nod a little, trying to understand everything that has just happened.
Trying to understand how you can talk to a dead person.
"Momo told me about you," she says, breaking the silence.
"She told you about me? You talked to Momo?" you ask.
"Yes. I was watching when... when the accident happened" she answers.
"She told me that if she could, she would do anything to see you again," says Mina, raising her hand.
"Your potion is slowly losing its effect" Mina puts her hand on your forehead and you wonder what exactly is going to happen now.
But before you can ask anything, your eyes close.
As they open, you are blinded by a bright white light.
You stand up slowly and look around, but see nothing.
Everything is white, the floor is straight without any bumps or curves, and nothing is in sight.
This place looks like it does in dreams, when you try to escape but can't.
The more you walk around you realize that it makes no sense, everywhere is white and you are completely alone here.
"Y/n" you hear a voice behind you calling after you.
You don't move, don't breathe, don't even dare to blink.
"Y/n" the voice repeats.
You slowly realize that this moment is not a dream.
It is real.
You slowly turn around and look her in the eye.
Momo is standing in front of you.
Her clothes match the white surroundings, and you hate it.
She's dressed like Mina, like an angel.
You stare at her, trying to breathe evenly.
"Momo?" you say, but it comes out more like a question.
"It's real," she replies.
It is real.
You slowly calm down, or rather try to.
In some way it feels like the first time you saw her -
You unsheathe your sword and slowly walk towards the noise. Peering through the bushes, you see a knight.
Or rather, a female knight.
Her rather long black hair is tied up in a ponytail. Her forehead is covered by a fringe. You only see her side profile, but it's like she was gifted by Aphrodite. While she breathes, her plump, pink-ish lips slightly part. Her sword is stuck in the grass next to her. She sits on a bigger stone, her armor less than yours. Her chest and stomach are protected, a helmet in her left hand, but you can see her well-trained arms. A few veins peek out on her hands, probably because of the heat.
But wait a minute. She is a knight. A stranger in your kingdom, which you are supposed to protect.
You got too distracted and she used that.
Flashbacks of the first meeting come into your head, your mind full of them.
You walk slowly towards her, as if she were dangerous, as if she were an enemy you should be afraid of.
"I never thought you could be so emotional," says Momo, turning her head in your direction, which is now partially submerged.
"Me neither," you admit.
"It's strange. Being here, in the water. With you." you say and look at her too.
"We're enemies," she replies and laughs a little.
Unfortunately.
You think, but it scares you to say it.
You're standing right in front of her.
She's standing in front of you.
No imagination, not those stupid dreams you've always had since she left.
She's really standing in front of you.
"I feel like we've just met for the first time," you say, Momo laughs a little.
"I feel the same way," she replies.
You feel the tears coming.
Before you regret it, you move closer.
You kiss Momo on her lips, your hands on her hips, the grip so strong that someone could think you're afraid she'll suddenly just disappear.
And that's exactly your fear right now.
She kisses you back.
You kiss Momo.
Memories of your first kiss come flooding back.
You close the distance between the two of you, her soft lips on yours as she dares not move.
This time it's different.
It's not a stupid dream you're having because you're confused about your feelings for Momo.
It's all more real.
And you want it, so, so much.
You slowly pull back, Momo smiles at you.
"I- I missed you so much," you say as tears run down your cheek.
"I missed you too, believe me," she replies, wiping away your tears.
"I think about you every day, and... and I always visit your grave and and-" you start sobbing, completely overwhelmed by the situation.
Momo interrupts you.
"Shh... I know, trust me"
"I was there when you visited my grave, when you were talking.
I'm sorry I couldn't answer your questions," she says.
"Why not in this one?" you ask.
"Why couldn't you just find me in this universe?" you ask.
"I wish so much that I could have found you in this universe. So much." she says.
"You're so strong for handling it so well"
"But that's the thing. I don't handle it well,
Every time I just want to sleep, I dream about you." you reply, feeling the tears growing.
"Either I dream about you smiling at me. With that stupid grin that I miss so much..." you take a deep breath,
"Or I dream of your face covered in blood"
Momo looks at you,
and suddenly her face is covered in blood.
Sana's sword is suddenly stuck in her head before she pulls it out.
She topples over, onto the dirty ground, onto the grass.
She doesn't move, just lies there.
Not a single breath, no stupid grin, nothing.
"I dream so often about that one night..." you say quietly, your voice cracking while you try to hold back your tears.
"I know," Momo replies.
"I'm so sorry you had to watch it happen like that."
"I love you," you say.
"I love you too, so much," she replies.
You look at her, slightly startled, confused, surprised.
It's the first time Momo has ever said that she loves you.
The first and the last time.
"You have to go slowly," says Momo.
"The effect is wearing off"
You nod slowly.
"So this is our final goodbye?" you ask, Momo nods.
"I'll be with you forever" Momo says and hugs you tightly.
This time she is the one who is afraid that the other will dissolve.
"I will think of you and love you forever," you say.
You feel yourself getting dizzy again.
Momo sobs quietly, her nails dig into your body.
"It's okay," you say, even though you're still crying, but you try to calm her down.
"It's okay," you repeat.
It all feels so light as your eyes close.
You can't feel any arms on your body.
Momo no longer feels the body she was hugging.
Your eyes open rapidly and you look around.
Chaeyoung stands up from her chair and looks at you.
You look at her and wipe a tear away from your cheek.
"You made it," she says.
You nod.
"The potion worked..." she says and picks up something to write down, probably something about this experiment.
You get up slowly and walk to the front door,
"Before you go," Chaeyoung says -
"The idea for the multiverse, and for this potion,
actually came from Momo"
You look at her and smile,
You close the door behind you and leave her house.
In this Universe, you live without Momo, and you're starting to accept it.
Because deep in your heart, you know that she is always with you.
So when you hold out your hand while walking home,
you know that she is holding it.
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natashaslesbian · 3 months
Text
We Saved Each Other (Part Six)
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Summary: Natasha is finally able to become your legal guardian, the problem is she wants to be more than that. She wants to be your mother
Word Count: 2.8k
Parings: (Kid!Reader x Mama!Natasha) (Kid!Reader x Barton Family) (Natasha x Clint) (Natasha x Fury)
Warnings/Content: some crying and some fluff
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“Sign here please” Natasha swiped her pen over the dotted lines again “and last one just here” finally, she thought, this had taken much longer than she had hoped. “Congratulations” the blonde lady said, dressed head to toe in the smartest suit you had ever seen “you’re now y/n y/l/n’s official guardian” Mrs Williams said to Natasha as she moved her glasses from her nose to her head. The ex widow had now been a US citizen for 13 months, meaning she was finally able to become your legal guardian, meaning you would be staying with Natasha for a long time (you hoped it would be forever.) “yay” you called up from your chair, right next to Nat’s of course. She pulled you up onto her lap and held you close as Fury saw the older woman out. “Are you my mommy now?” You innocently asked “well not quite darling” Natasha said, causing you to frown “I’m your guardian which means it’s my job to look after you, but of course I will be your mommy as long as you want me to be” she explained “I wants you to be my mommy forever!” You beamed as you threw your arms around the redhead.
Natasha thought on what you had said for next week, wondering if she was really worthy of being a mother, being your mother. She thought about it throughout your many movie marathons, you were simply enchanted by the magic of classic Disney movies. She thought about it while you were cuddled together watching Mulan and long after you had fallen asleep watching Cinderella. “Mama” you called from Natasha’s lap, pulling her back to reality “the movie stopped” you whined “I think it’s finished y/n, are you ready for bed or do you wanna watch something else?” Your mom asked. You thought long and hard, a movie night could hardly be over after 2 films but you were oh so tired “finding nemo” you said through a yawn “again!” Nat feigned her exaggeration “we’ve already seen it 3 times this week!” You giggled as she mumbled her words into your tummy “it’s my favourite!” You laughed as you removed Natasha’s head and held it in your hands. She gently twisted towards your palm to leave a soft kiss “alright then baby, but after that it’s bedtime okay?” She said “ok mommy” you huffed.
Going to bed that night, Natasha continued to think about her role in your life. Each time you called her ‘mama’ the crack in her heart seemed to heal a little more. All those years of hurt had started to become distance memories rather than present thoughts that plagued her mind. You were rescuing her from herself without knowing it but a constant questioned remained; could she build a sustainable life with you? All the ex widow had ever known was killing and stealth, the real world was still so new to her too. Being a mother was a choice that was taken away from her and Natasha had accepted it so long ago, but now with you, everything had changed. Natasha couldn’t promise you a safe future, her list of enemies was too long to comprehend, she would always be a target. How could she live with herself if she were to put the same target on your back. But if there was one thing Natasha could promise you, it was love. It was that you would be loved so deep and true that you’d never forget it. She couldn’t replace your past or erase the memories, but she could build new ones. Filled with happiness and joy something she so desperately graved and something that you do desperately deserved.
The morning arrived before Natasha could even close her eyes and an exciting day laid ahead, the start of giving you memories filled with happiness and joy. “What if Cooper and Lila don’t like me?” You asked your mom, hiding behind the car door “oh y/n, how could anyone not like you!” Natasha said “I’m sure you’re gonna be the best of friends” she continued before taking a hold of your shaking hand. You joined Nat in knocking lightly on the wooden door, the large two story house looked so plain on the outside, but when the door opened a stream of colour and laughter caking roaring through. “Hey you two!” Clint said as he gave Nat a quick embrace “it’s good to see you y/n” you responded with your usual high-five “Laura” Clint called after rising to his height again “the girls are here” you stepped across a large welcome mat, signed with four handprints, and managed to take off your shoes with a little help from mommy. “Nat” said a soft voice from behind the corner. You watched as a tall beautiful brunette came into your vision “how are you my darling” she asked Natasha, who simply gave a nod “and this must be y/n” said the woman towards you. You moved behind Natasha slightly, using her frame to shield you. The two woman came down to your level “y/n this is Laura” Natasha said “she’s married to Clint and she’s one of my best friends” you looked between them both, trusting by Natasha’s eyes that Mrs Barton was safe “it’s wonderful to meet you sweetheart” Laura said as she held out her hand to you “hi” you whispered as you connected your palm to her own rather cautiously.
“Would you like to come and meet my children?” Laura asked as she held out her hand again. With a gentle nod and pat from Natasha you were lead further into the large cabin where you came into a room filled top to bottom with books art supplies and toys “y/n this is my son, Cooper” Laura said as she waved over her kids “and my daughter Lila” the pair said their hello’s and you politely waved back “Lila here is a few months older than you, I think you’ll get along very well, and Cooper is a great big brother, he’ll look after you both if you need anything” the older boy had already returned to his Lego set while Lila came to stand next to you “do you want to come see my new dollhouse” she asked. You looked back in search of Natasha and found her in the doorway with Laura “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me ok darling” she softly spoke “ok mama” you replied. Once the adults had dispersed Lila came right to your side “I didn’t know auntie Nat was your mommy!” She exclaimed “does that mean you’re my cousin? Mine and Coopers cousin?” Lila beamed “what’s a cousin?” You asked, you had never heard of one before and feared it was something awful to be known as “well it means we’re the best of friends, closer than bff’s can ever be!” Lila came to give you a big hug, and at first it took you by surprise, you didn’t allow physical contact with anyone other than Natasha. But Lila’s hug felt nice, you had never had a cousin before and felt excited that she would be your first.
After a few hours of play, Laura called you for dinner “but mommy I wanted to take y/n on the swings!” Lila huffed “maybe after dinner sweetheart, why don’t you show y/n to the dining room?” Laura suggested. The loss of your crafts and make believe games was soon forgotten as the smell of fresh bread seeped into your senses. “Here y/n, come sit next to me” Lila said as she pulled back a chair for you. You settled well considering Natasha’s chair was on your side. Dinner was going by smoothly until Lila’s curiosity got the better of her. “Auntie Nat?” She called passed you “if your Y/N’s mom, why have I never met her before if she’s the same age as me?” Lila innocently asked “well y/n and I haven’t known each other very long you see” Natasha said “what do you mean?” Lila replied “I’ve only been looking after y/n for a few months, since we first met” your mom said as she helped you grab another roasted potato “you only met each other months ago? So you aren’t y/n’s real mom then?” Lila meant no harm, she was just confused. But hearing her say that Natasha wasn’t really your mom hurt. “Well not biologically, which means we aren’t actually related, but I can still be her mom for as long as she wants me to be” Nat said, looking down at you with a smile at the end of her sentence. “But she’s not your actual daughter?” The little brunette asked again “Lila honey” Laura spoke up “do you want to come and help me with dessert?” She said in order to defuse the accidental tension.
You stayed quiet for the rest of the evening, opting to say you had a small tummy ache to avoid going out to the swings with Lila and Cooper. You sat contently with Natasha until it was finally time to leave “thank you so much for coming y/n it was so nice to meet you! We’ll have to sort out a play date for you and Lila hey?” Laura smiled as she helped you into your coat “thanks Laura” Natasha said taking hold of your hand and leading you back to the car. “Bye bye y/n!” Lila called from the doorframe, you managed a small wave back. Natasha hummed along to the radio the whole journey back, flashing you worried glances here and there. You still had your quiet moments and they usually meant that something was bothering you. “Y/n?” She softly asked to get your attention “are you ok sweetheart?” Her emerald eyed remained on you as she came to a red light. “Yes” you whispered, and Natasha knew you meant no but she didn’t ever like to push you to talk. “How about when we get home we have another movie night? I know those are your favourites” Natasha suggested “no thank you” you replied “why not darling? Don’t you wanna spend some time with mama?” Nat smiled at you as the car paused at a red light. “You’re not my mama” you whispered into the window. Natasha sat in shock, only remembering to move the car again when the driver behind gave a harsh hit on his horn “baby” she sighed as the car rolled forward again “that’s what Lila said” you mumbled into your closed fist. The widow understood now why you were so upset and the idea in her head was solidified.
“Are you sure about this?” Nick asked as he placed down the papers in front of him “I’ve never been more sure of anything Fury” Natasha said “and you feel you’ve adjusted enough to this…lifestyle?” The Director continued “I know there’s still a journey to be had, but with her by my side I know I can do it” the redhead spoke through shaky breaths “you know what this means don’t you?” Fury said “you wouldn’t be able to stay here, and we can’t support you outside of your work with us, you’ll be on your own” he sighed “no they won’t” Clint added “we’re converting our barn, the girls will live there and we will support them until they’re on their feet” he finished. “Ok, I’ll contact Mrs Williams first thing” Nick said. Natasha let out the breath she didn’t realise she had been holding “thank you” she whispered as Clint guided her out of the directors office. “Did you mean what you said?” Nat asked “about the barn, because you know we don’t have to I’m sure we can find somewhere” she began to trail off as Clint raised his hand to her shoulder “of course I meant it Natasha, Laura and I would love you to be our neighbours” he finished as he pulled his best friend into a warm hug.
You woke up with your back facing Natasha, just as you had fell asleep. You craved her embrace, to feel her warmth soak into your skin. But Lila’s words were on repeat in your head. The last few days had been tough on both you and Nat, the two of you not really spending much time together. You had wanted to give in so many times but feared she would reject you, as she wasn’t really your mom. You rubbed your tired eyes and reached for your water bottle, only to find it empty. All of your emotions came pouring out of you as another inconvenience was too much to take. You rolled over with tears in your eyes hoping to be met with Natasha’s green ones. But her side of the bed was cold, the duvet hanging at the bottom of the bed. You let out a loud sob, feeling all the weight of the world on your shoulders. You wanted to scream for your mommy but it didn’t feel right anymore. You shuffled down off the bed, grabbing your stuffy and running to the door. You made your way to the kitchen, where usually the smell of pancakes would’ve excited you. You saw a flash of red hair and sped to the legs attached. Natasha jumped, almost dropping the fresh strawberry she had just picked up from the bowl. “Hey angel” she cheerfully said, but her expression changed when she heard your small sobs “oh baby wasn’t wrong?” She asked. “I’m sorry” you sobbed “I’m sorry I don’t care what Lila says I just want you to be my mommy. Please will you still be my mommy I’m sorry” you clawed at Natasha’s trousers, wiping your stuffy nose on her knee “hey hey baby girl” Nat said as she crouched down to face you “you have nothing to be sorry for y/n, I’m still your mommy baby girl, I always will be for as long as you want me to be” she cooed as she wiped your falling tears “but it’s not real is it” you cried. “Sweetheart come here” Nat scooped you up into her arms and brought you to sit on the couch, taking a second to make sure everything in the kitchen was turned off.
Once settled into the redheads lap, you continued to pull at her shirt afraid she would disappear if you let go. “Y/n look at me” Natasha began “you know that what Lila said isn’t true, family isn’t always about blood and genetics. Family is in here” she said as she placed her hand over your heart “and no body can ever tell you what’s in your heart. Sometimes beautiful things can come from bad situations and people can connect in all different ways. You don’t need to be related to call someone family. You don’t need a piece of paper to call someone your daughter. But if that’s what you want y/n…” you looked up into Natasha’s eyes as she paused “I have a surprise for you, if you want it?” She asked “what is it?” You asked back, finally drying your eyes. “Would you like me to adopt you?” Nat whispered, afraid you had changed your mind. “Like be my proper mommy?” You mumbled “no baby, I’ll always be your proper mommy, but if I adopt you then the world will call us a family too, we can be together forever” Natasha smiled as you stared up at her, a glimmer of hope in both of your eyes. “Will you adopt me please mommy?” You asked “of course baby” Natasha giggled, pulling you into the tightest hug ever as she began to cry herself “I love you y/n” she cooed into your hairline “I love you too mommy”.
“Sign here please” Natasha swiped her pen over the dotted lines again “and last one just here” finally, she thought, this had taken much longer than she had hoped. “Congratulations” the blonde lady said, dressed head to toe in the smartest suit you had ever seen “Miss y/n Romanoff you are officially adopted by Natasha Romanoff” Mrs Williams said to Natasha as she moved her glasses from her nose to her head. The ex widow had now been a US citizen for 15 months, and she had finally become your mother, meaning you would be staying with Natasha forever. “yay” you called up from your chair, right next to mamas of course. She pulled you up onto her lap and held you close as Fury saw the older woman out. “Are we going to uncle Clint’s now?” You innocently asked “very soon darling” Natasha said, causing you to frown slightly “hey, I’m sure we’ll be there before you even know it. We’ll get all our things packed up and maybe go to the store and pick you out some things for your new room. And very soon you’ll be able to see your cousins as much as you want!” she explained “I can’t wait! I’m so happy you get to be my mommy forever!” You beamed as you threw your arms around the redhead.
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A/N: This isn’t proof read so sorry if my dyslexic ass messed a few things up. Also I can’t seem to edit my masterlist atm so bear with while I try update it :))) -Star
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Taglist<3
@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904
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saphushia · 4 months
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do you have any fic recs for dp/dc? ive been interested in reading good ones but its kinda hard to shuffle thru them all.
oh fuck yeah you know i do. i'm just gonna make a list of good ones until i get bored or tired lets see how long this gets lmao
also personal preference wise i'm not big on the danny-gets-adopted fics so u gotta ask someone else if u want recs of those ones lmao
⭐= my absolute favorites all fics are gen unless a ship is listed make sure u check fic tags for CWs b4 reading 👍
=ONESHOTS=
⭐It all Started at a Convention tim meets danny at a tech convention and they have a surprisingly nice afternoon together. and then tim comes to a realization about some things danny said...
A Monsterous Kind of Love [tim/danny] tim's a vampire. danny's a full ghost. tim gets to kill a few hunters in a frenzied rage to keep danny safe. as a treat <3
You've Got My Heart (I've Got Your Soul) [tim/tucker] congrats tim! you met your soulmate! why's he trying to kill you. hm. maybe you fucked up, buddy
Of loss, longing and long duration. [danny/bruce] of danny falling in love with bruce, breaking up with bruce, and proceeding to still be adored by all bruce's kids, past and present.
You Are a Monster (But So Am I) [danny/duke] duke's not a monster fucker- he's not! he swears! it's just this one, specific, really pretty eldritch snow monster-
If I had a nickel for every billionaire that tried to kidnap me, I’d have two nickels- which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice bruce is very tired. it's not his fault he accidentally kidnapped some teenager. aka danny's very bad wierd and stressful afternoon.
=ONGOING=
If You Give a Bat a Burger danny's just trying to lay low while keeping gotham's spirit infestation under control- of course nothing ever is simple for him. meanwhile, the bats all have their hands full with what seem to be unconnected cases, but nothing's ever simple for them either.
Rooftop Express [danny/jason] danny is bored and starts his own version of doordash in gotham. red hood keeps putting in orders so he can see the cute delivery boy <3 what do you mean he's a halfa
⭐Bus to Nowhere danny's adventures being a homeless teen in gotham on the run from his parents and the GIW. he's called dumpster tommy now, and he can't seem to stop befriending criminal and attracting vigilantes desperate to help him
An Interesting Family Tree [danny/tim] danny left the league of assassins years ago, but he can't seem to keep his nose out of it when he finds out red robin's being targeted by them. (canon divergence of tim's search for bruce in the red robin comics, where danny joins him. don't need to read the comic to read the fic)
⭐Grave Promises after an identity reveal gone wrong, danny has no one to turn to. no one, except, maybe, the hero who got stuck in the ghost zone years ago, who became danny's friend, danny's mentor, before they finally got him returned to his timeline. nightwing.
Our Empty Graves [jason/danny] danny, mute, injured, and on the run, is saved from a tight spot by red hood. he quickly becomes jason's problem, and jason makes the mistake of becoming endeared to this snarky shit.
Night Circus [dick/danny] dick hits it off with danny, a circus performer who just came to gotham. dick's thrilled- aside from the fact that circus gothica seems to be connected to the string of robberies that's suddenly hit gotham, and the bizarre thief dressed like the grim reaper...
Secretary Danny danny accidentally gets himself hired as the personal secretary of tim drake, wayne industries CEO. he's surprisingly ok with this, actually. and he's scarily good at it.
ok it's late i need to go eepies now have funnnn <3
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starry-hughes · 6 months
Text
hey mat(t)hew
mat barzal x reader, matthew tkachuk x reader
warnings: cheating, angst, mentions of sex, more angst, barzy ends up heartbroken but so does tkachuk, inspired by the song hey ben (games we play & hoodie allen)
summary: matthew finds out you have another boyfriend who happens to be closer to him than he would have ever guessed.
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I got some things that I've been meaning to get off my chest. Been holding on to this so long, I've never been so stressed. 
Mathew Barzal was never expecting a text from a random number addressing him as Mathew. He didn’t even know who this was. Why was this person addressing him as if they knew one another, as if they had something in common?
“Hey Mathew… hate to be the bearer of bad news..”
That’s how the text started. 
And this might just weird you out, But I flagged you down to say, I know we haven't met, But we've got tons of friends in common, And lying isn't me, so I'll just be completely honest. 
You had wanted to get out of Fort Lauderdale since you were a teenager. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, acceptance to NYU and funding from your parents, you were in New York. The plan wasn’t to find a job right out of graduation and work for a company based in Fort Lauderdale. Luckily, you didn’t have to return there often, just for the occasional, one-time-a-month trip, your job letting you work remotely for the most part. 
Your life was perfect. A college degree, a job, and a hot boyfriend, Mathew Barzal. Your life was enjoyable, being a hockey girlfriend and successful. It wasn’t that Mat was a bad boyfriend. He was great. He would buy expensive gifts, tell you that he loves you, everything you could ask for. 
Both traveling for work, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to go down to Florida for work while Mat was traveling as well, he’d be on the West Coast while you were down in Florida, sitting through boring meetings. He’d text you good morning and good night, call you if he could, and tell you he loved you. 
You weren’t sure what had gotten into you. Maybe it was the fact that a minor argument had happened while you were packing to leave on your work trip of the month and Mathew was staying in New York for the week. You were staying at a rental house, paid for by your company, it was a nice place in a nice area: Sunrise, Florida. 
Hey Ben, I'm sorry, but I might have slept with your girlfriend I was under the impression she was my girlfriend. Don't worry, it won't happen again. But, hey Ben, I can't make any promises. 
Matthew Tkachuk had been on the Florida Panthers for a short time when he stumbled into you. You were on a jog, needing to clear your head about your rocky relationship back home. Matthew was rounding his car, walking to the trunk when you jogged by and startled him. You ripped out your headphones, huffing an apology. “It’s okay,” Matthew flashed a smile at you, “I’ve never seen you around here.” 
With your hands on your hips, you suddenly feel something, lust. “Just here on a work trip, can I help you with groceries? Since I startled you.” He had completely forgotten about the groceries in his trunk, the Publix bags staring at him. 
You ended up sleeping with Matthew Tkachuk that night. 
You felt guilty. Horrible. But the sex was too good. It would be a secret, one you wanted to take to the grave. A one-time thing. You’d delete his number, forget his name and the way his beard scratched your thighs. 
Hey Ben, I'm sorry, but I might have slept with your girlfriend. I guess she went and fucked around with both our heads, I think I might have ruined your day. Hey Ben, I'm sorry that you found out from me. 
Mathew didn’t notice anything was off. You had decided not to tell him. You got home and everything was fine. He apologized, gave you a pretty necklace and told you he loved you. Everything was fine. 
Except when your phone would buzz in the middle of the night. You had hidden WhatsApp in one of your app folders, Mathew believed it was for work. Matthew, from Florida, would send texts, saying he was thinking about you, thinking about the night you shared. 
You knew it was wrong, but when your boyfriend fell asleep next to you, you were texting Matthew. Scandalous pictures of your clevage exchanged when Mathew was on a roadie, texts regarding your next visit to Florida, and he was totally convinced you lived in a studio apartment in New York City. 
You let it continue. Every trip for work, you would spend your nights, telling Mathew you were going to bed, and then ending up in Matthew’s bed. You even had the excuse in your head, their names were the same, it wasn’t like you were moaning someone else’s name during the night. You could use autocorrect as an excuse, telling your boyfriend that your phone corrected his name from Mathew to Matthew. 
It wasn't that Mathew was a bad boyfriend. He gave you love through gifts and kind words. But with Matthew it was different, everything was different. He wasn't telling you that he loved you but he cared. Mathew was soft and Matthew was rough, polar opposites. And having one was not good enough for you apparently.
Your fault in everything was never paying enough attention to your boyfriend’s career. He didn’t mind it. Mathew was fine if you missed his game and didn’t even care to watch from home. You didn’t bother asking Matthew what he did for work, but god there was just something familiar about his face. You shrugged off all the feelings though. But, you let Matthew call you his girlfriend, it was easier to say than situtionship. You told him you didn’t have a social media presence and he fully believed you. 
And I know we've never met But we have so much in common. If you don't believe me, check to see my skeleton in her closet. 
Matthew had found out through someone else. His teammate, Sam Reinhart, next to him on the plane to Dallas, scrolling through Instagram. Matthew saw your face, saw you smiling in the picture, Mathew Barzal kissing your cheek, a piece of jewlery on your finger. And his stomach dropped. 
How do you tell someone you’re the side piece? Matthew fell down the rabbit hole of Mat Barzal’s social media, finding your private Instagram, the one you claimed you didn’t have. Pictures and pictures on Barzal’s Instagram, featuring you, featuring you and him in the summers, Italian vacations, wearing a WAG jacket during the playoffs. 
Matthew’s jaw clenched, he was better than Barzal, hell his team made it further in the 2022-2023 playoffs. He was obviously better at something, why else would you be calling him every time you were in Florida. He knew it was wrong at the end of the day, he didn’t stand for cheaters, and he wouldn’t be a dick and keep his knowledge to himself. 
A couple of texts later, Matthew was granted Mathew’s number. “Hey Mathew… Hate to be the bearer of bad news… but, I think you should know this. I kinda slept with your girlfriend.” 
And I know you'll find the dirt behind The dates and times, the alibis The text she sent November 9th. I dare you, ask to read it. 
Mathew Barzal didn’t want to believe it at first. He had just proposed, everything was perfect in his opinion. He wanted to believe it was a prank. He didn’t want to think his girlfriend, who was sleeping besides him in his shirt was cheating on him. 
Matthew Tkachuk was angry, he was upset. He knew if he was in Mat’s spot, he wouldn’t want to believe it either. But suddenly everything became so clear. How he ignored the shoes in the background of your picture, how he once saw you answering a text about spending the summer in Coquitlam. How you would suddenly text him more the nights that the New York Islanders play. 
November 9, 2022 
“I’ll be in Florida tomorrow.” You had texted him. 
November 9, 2023
“You okay?” You texted when you realized he hadn’t texted you back in a while, leaving your last flirty text on read. 
The screenshots of the texts made Mathew sick to his stomach. In less than a month, he’d be in Florida, sharing the ice with Matthew. He didn’t know if he could make it through a game with this knowledge. The two boys had agreed on telling you they knew. 
Hey Ben, I'm sorry, but I might have slept with your girlfriend. I guess she went and fucked around with both our heads. 
Sweet revenge for them both came December 2. You had panicked when Mathew told you he’d be in Florida at the same time you’d be on your work trip. You couldn’t just go and sleep with Matthew at the same time you fiance was in the city. The large diamond ring on your finger suddenly feeling very heavy. 
“How about we stay at the house your company rents you?” Mathew pressed a kiss to your lips. Even though he was about to change things, he still kissed you. “In Sunrise?” you squeaked. “Yeah, it’s not that much further from our arena.” 
You felt sick the whole time, making an excuse to Mathew. He was just in town for the night, just for the Panthers game. Then he’d be gone. “I’m going to shower,” you kissed his cheek. He nodded and as soon as you disappeared from sight, he texted the man down the street. 
“Mat? Baby? Have you seen my hairbrush?” your hair was wet still, you were so focused on drying the tips of your hair that you didn’t even realize Mat had removed his duffle bag from the bedroom. And the engagement ring you left on the dresser had been removed. 
You could have laughed at everything. At the end of the day, it was your doing. “Hey baby, did you know Matthew lives down the road? He plays with the Panthers, knows Reinhart.” 
It was ironic. Your perfect life crumbling in front of you. It was your fault. Why did it hurt? The room was painfully silent as your mouth went dry and the food you’d eaten hours before seemed to be ready to exit out of your mouth. “I, I-” you stuttered, tears filling your eyes as Matthew nodded, jaw clenched. 
“Well,” Matthew’s voice boomed, “I should go, considering you guys probably have a lot more to discuss.” Matthew brushed by you and let himself out. There would be no hard feelings between the two boys. 
“Mat baby I didn’t-” 
“I’ll be back on Long Island Sunday night. I’ll pack your things.” 
“Mathew.” 
He shook his head, eyes full of tears of betrayal and hurt. “No, you don’t get to fix this. I saw the texts, I know everything.” 
“Mathew please,” you dry heaved. “Was it worth it?” Mat’s words laced with venom, “I hope it was worth it.” 
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1d1195 · 9 months
Text
Protection II
This is mostly the getting to know the reader and part. I hope you enjoy. 7.5k+
This is where I'll put the rest of the series: Protection
P.S. Sorry, I have some bad daddy issues that are going to be addressed in this series.
“Okay,” she nodded in promise. “Thank you,” she said seriously. She honestly hoped he sensed the authenticity of her gratitude. Harry was the first person to treat her like a human. Even if she gave him a hard time more often than not.
If she wasn’t careful, she was really going to fall in love with him.
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There was just over three weeks between the end of her summer course and the fall semester. She planned on spending almost the entire time she wasn’t working either out in the sun reading or sleeping. Her final year was going to be difficult to say the least and she needed to be rested for the first days of the semester.
Her friends didn’t really chat with her during these weeks. She was used to it. Part of her believed they didn’t really want her to be around during their regularly scheduled class times either. It was why she fought so vehemently with her detail. There was so much drama surrounding her with just the presence of her security following her around.
The poor thing couldn’t sleep in all that much due to her constantly spinning mind and busy schedule with work and other obligations she put upon herself. Waking up at 8AM was about as late as she could stand it. At that time, and to beat the humidity, she hurried to shove her feet in sneakers and twist her hair up and off the back of her neck. She jogged a bit, stopping way more than she should have to walk at a clipped pace. Harry was warned of this and came prepared following behind her with so much ease. If weren’t for the heat, she was convinced he wouldn’t have broken a sweat. He didn’t speak to her while she listened to her music and didn’t make any comments about her need to walk so frequently, which she thought was kind. She imagined the rest of the detail thought she shouldn’t have had pizza on any regular schedule or said she was out of shape.
After a good head clearing, she would head back to shower and relax her muscles. It was the most calming time she had without any reminder of her detail’s presence. The one and only place they let her be alone completely. Coming back out to the living room she found Harry, ever present seated at his laptop situated on her dining table. Her hair was damp from being towel-dried and her skin felt fresh. She flopped onto the couch. Harry was silent, paying no focused attention to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him. Harry per usual, didn’t appear all that sweaty, but she couldn’t imagine having to sit in his sweat all day long while watching her and it was particularly hot and humid this morning. Especially when she had the luxury of hosing herself down. “Do you want to shower?” She asked.
He glanced at her. It wasn’t a terrible request. He hated to feel the thin sheen of sweat over his body—he didn’t think he smelled bad, but he thought he might smell like sweat. It seemed entirely unprofessional—it wasn’t covered in his training that he couldn’t shower at her apartment, but it seemed like something he should steer clear of. He could always call another agent while he headed back to his place—just ten minutes from hers. He could be back on the inside of an hour. “Uh...yeah, if y’don’t mind. I’ll jus’ call some—”
“You can shower here,” she shrugged setting up a playlist to play through her TV speaker. “I have more than one towel, obviously.”
Harry thought her sarcastic bite was funny and not dreadful like the rest of the team made it out to be. He smirked. “Uh...I don’t really want t’leave—”
She rolled her eyes and picked up her book. “I pinky promise, cross my heart, swear on my mother’s grave I won’t leave this apartment until you’re dressed and able to chase me efficiently,” she mumbled flipping to the bookmarked page. “Honestly might fall right back to sleep anyway,” she muttered. “Towels are in the linen closet,” her tone was dismissive. The ball was in Harry’s court.
Harry didn’t really want to piss her off; part of him thought that if she remained happy maybe she wouldn’t give him such a hard time. He wasn’t kidding when he told her he hated paperwork and despite how...different she seemed than the stories he heard, he wasn’t going to take his chances. Closing his laptop and he made his way by the couch toward the hall to the bathroom. He stopped in the threshold briefly and gazed at the girl snuggled on the couch who didn’t look like she’d be moving for hours. “Please,” he eyed her cautiously. “Don’t leave,” he said it gently, the slight begging tone in his voice.
She glanced up at his serious, pleading expression. Part of her forgot he was all but her enemy. His voice, his face, his body... he was so lovely. He was adorable. But she couldn’t let him know she thought that. She instead returned her gaze to her book, unable to comprehend the words fully in her brain to make sense due to the depth of green she was seeing in Harry’s eyes. She briefly pressed two fingers to her temple and saluted him without meeting his eyes. “Sure thing, boss.”
Harry still took the fastest shower he’d ever taken, still a bit worried about her leaving. However, when he returned to the main room, there she was reading. Snuggled up cutely on her sofa and listening to the gentle music playing as she did. She really wasn’t as bad as they made her out to be. Or maybe he just hadn’t really seen that side of her yet. But either way, he was glad she was kind for now.
*
“How’s it going?” Niall asked on Harry’s first day off in over a week. While they really didn’t speak a whole lot, he actually felt a little bad not seeing her. So much so, he left her a note saying to just text him if she needed something—and to not give the relief detail a too much of a fight.
“She’s not that bad,” Harry shrugged.
“No way,” Niall was in disbelief. He actually paused mid sip, spitting his drink back into the glass. “I can’t believe the close in age thing worked,” he shook his head. “I should have thought of this years ago.”
Harry shrugged again. “All she does is sleep,” it was true. She slept a good eight hours each day over the last week. In addition, he only glanced up from his computer when her book fell to the ground, and she was fast asleep in her mid-afternoon nap. Harry found his job quite cushy. Especially because he thought she was quite cute when she slept.
“She doesn’t escape?”
“If she did, she’s a lot better than anyone told me she would be. I’ve never noticed. So, I don’t think so. I caught her the first day trying t’sneak t’meet her friends at the pub. S’only because the detail outside saw her on the fire escape. Think they were honestly hazing me a bit,” he shrugged. “M’first day and all...but she hasn’t tried anything since.”
The surprise was still evident from Niall. “You like her?” He asked; he was incredulous.
Harry shrugged once more then nodded. “Yeah...she’s...fun,” he shrugged. “She’s really polite.”
“I don’t think anyone has ever said that about her.”
Harry found he was a bit irritated with his friend. Niall wasn’t one to talk poorly of someone else almost ever so his sudden remarks of the girl made him annoyed. So why was he so negative about her? “Have y’ever even met her, Niall?” Harry asked. The bite in his tone rivaled the one that she would give Harry.
He shook his head. “No, but I’ve seen the paperwork,” he whistled almost in appreciation. “She’s...”
“She’s actually really smart. Funny. Kind,” Harry interrupted.
Niall blinked surprised by Harry’s defense for the girl. “Sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to...I’m sorry. Just...you hear some stories.”
Harry tried to push the girl from his mind. Maybe it would be different when she was back in school. Maybe it wouldn’t. But regardless, he didn’t think it was very nice of the entire department to write her off. He focused on Niall and their lunch at a local restaurant.
His phone vibrated with a message from her. He waited until Niall was engrossed in the game on the screen above their table. Never thought I’d say this about one of my bodyguards...but I can’t wait for you to be back. These people are awful to me :(
It was hard to ignore the flutter of his heart. Treat them with kindness, love. He reminded her.
Feel like they should be kind to me first...
:( He sort of agreed with her. Even if she was a pain in his butt in her own special way, he didn’t think she deserved unkindness. It was about a half hour without a response message from her and Harry realized he was a bit...anxious waiting for her name to flash across the screen. It was dicey of him—it was also silly of him to expect a message in response to a frowny face. Maybe the deepest part of his subconscious knew before the rest of him that he shouldn’t be sending her messages for a very specific reason—especially ones regarding her hatred of the other members of her security detail.
Still...he was the only one she seemed to like...and he was The Department’s last hope.
I’ll be back tomorrow, love. He said finally. He wanted to chat with her more. Six days in a row with her and he was already aching for more time with her.
Thank God. Her answer was immediate. Followed by a second one. Can we get burritos?
Sure thing :)
*
She still drove him insane. She was practically mindless as she marched down the road ahead of him when she ran errands. Nearly stumbling into traffic. It was almost as if she had a death wish.
“For the love of God, would you jus’ tell me,” he snapped at her when she once more forgot to tell him where she was going...even if it was just to get the package she ordered from the main lobby but she left without a word. Caught him a bit off-guard as he jumped up from his typical seat at her dining table, rushing to catch her before she got too far.
Honestly, he couldn’t imagine telling all but a stranger his every movement. It had to be difficult for her. But it still pissed him off. Especially when she smirked at him when he snapped at her. Like a child in trouble who knew she was in trouble. It really infuriated him when she did that.
When she met with her friends, Harry sat by the bar nursing a glass of water. He flashed his credentials to the bartender who gave him a stiff nod, not worrying about his lack of alcohol or why he was intently watching the girl across the room. Harry had to strain to hear anything of importance but for the most part it was harmless.
Boys would come talk to her and Harry couldn’t help but think they were so out of their league. The confidence they exuded was hilariously misplaced, so he thought. She was pretty. Even if she was annoying. He couldn’t help but notice how nice she looked when she twirled her hair into a pretty style, or the way her lips seemed to shine with the gloss she put on but never seemed to come off even when she sipped her drink. Of course, she was intelligent, a biochemist didn’t get to this stage in her academic career without being intelligent.
The boys, however, had one thing on their mind (make that two things) when she wore a pretty blue top with jeans cropped at her ankle. Her hair was twirled to the side making her look like some casual Rapunzel and Harry wished he didn’t think like that. But he was thinking like that. Because despite how annoying she could be, she was really beautiful. Effortlessly, it seemed.
Harry never intervened when the boys chatted with her for way longer than they should have. They didn’t seem to have a clue who she was or that Harry was a mere ten meters away eyeing their every movement. Rarely did she dismiss any of them. Ever polite, which he found interesting. The more time he spent watching her, the more fascinated he became by her.
It was only when he heard them say they were into politics that her face immediately soured, and her attention returned to her drink. At that point, her girlfriend who was essentially a second bodyguard on Harry’s detail (especially when it came to guys) came to her rescue shooing the guy away and they’d find another bar to repeat the process all over again.
The two girls linked their arms while Harry walked several paces behind them. He didn’t eavesdrop on their conversation, but he did want to know what made her laugh so hard just because he hadn’t heard her careless laughter like that before. It made her seem so at ease. He wished she was like that all the time.
Right as they started to enter the next place, a boy snagged her about the waist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. She blinked in surprise and Harry settled against the wall one business down from her spot at the entrance of the bar. He never found the guys in her company malicious or harmful. They were dumb and drunk most often. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
She pulled from him giving her friend a knowing look. With a gentle smile she grinned at the guy. Harry felt something in his chest warm over. It made him...jealous.
Oh, that’s not good. He thought to himself. But he shoved the emotion to the side. He would deal with it later. He missed the introduction the guy gave so he didn’t get to hear his name. Which meant he would have to wrangle it out of her later when he did a background check on him. “Let me take you home,” he said.
“I’m with my friend,” she nodded toward the girl. The forwardness took her friend for a loop, she was hovering closer to Harry than she had been in the last few places.
“Tell her you’re leaving,” he shrugged.
Her smile was tight. Harry could see it from where he stood. He inched a bit closer toward her friend. Even she was looking on nervously. Harry was twitching to punch him already. Especially if he didn’t leave her alone. “No, thank you,” she said reaching for the door to get inside. He slapped it shut. This time, Harry saw the way she straightened. If she was dog or a cat, he imagined she would have raised hackles. Harry pressed a finger to his ear.
“Stand by,” he mumbled to the receiver attached to him. Despite the noise of the busy street, he could hear the distinct sound of one of the department registered SUV’s engine turning over.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he smiled. The alcohol must have made him more confident. She wasn’t having it.
“I said no,” she was firm. There wasn’t room for argument. Harry felt a bit...proud of how she confidently sized herself up against him. Of course, she had scared an entire division anywhere from ten to thirty years older than her. Surely, she could take on a guy her own age.
“At least give me a chance to turn it into a yes,” he said snagging her hand. She pulled it from his grip, turning toward her friend. She caught Harry’s eye as she did. He was now almost beside her friend, and he swore he saw a sparkle in her eye as if she had only just realized Harry was actually there.
“Baby, what are you doing here!?” She said excitedly, running toward Harry as if she truly had no idea, he was right there all this time. She threw herself against him, arms looping around his neck as she clung to him. Harry felt stunned, one arm wrapping back around her waist. Her exposed skin was warm despite the reminder it was the end of August and evening air was getting cool. But she was like holding the embodiment of summer in his arms.
This was definitely not part of his training. As an agent, he was typically observant and could usually predict different outcomes or make sense of the scene and situation around him. He could figure out what most people were going to do before they did it.
Her sudden stunt left him a bit dazed.
“Thought you didn’t get out of work till later,” she smiled up at him as she pulled away, batting her eyelashes at him. “Can you take us home?” She jutted out her lower lip gazing at him with...adoration? That couldn’t be right. Even if it was for show, she was good at it. Harry didn’t know she was capable of acting. Especially acting as if she was in love.
“Uh...yeah,” Harry cleared his throat. “Got out early,” he mumbled following her lead. He could hear the laughter in the earpiece as she wrapped her arm around his waist. She grabbed her friend’s hand, and they headed off the way they came.
“He’s staring at my ass,” she whispered to her friend. “I can feel it.”
“I mean it’s a nice ass,” she shrugged with a smile.
The girl kept hold of Harry and rolled her eyes. “Creepy,” but Harry didn’t miss how he felt her arm tighten around his waist. He would break the guy’s arm for her if she asked. Harry had the right mind to kill him just for being so forward and annoying to her. Not taking no for an answer the first time she said it. When they turned the corner, she released him immediately. Harry couldn’t help how he felt cold without her embrace. And he hated how easy it was to slip into the mindset that it felt good with her wrapped around him.
Fortunately, she and her friend took off running down the block for the next bar so Harry once more had to put that notion to the side.
*
Harry entered her apartment on September first surprised to find the array of pink peonies and carnations that had adorned her walls the last three weeks were replaced by sunflowers. It was…enlightening. To say the least. Harry wasn’t even in a bad mood, but he was overwhelmed with happiness as he settled his stuff onto the dining room table. “Do you do this every month?” He asked, making his way toward her. She was on a step stool, draping more sunflower vines along the walls.
“No,” she smirked. “I’ll keep these up until December first,” she explained. “I do add some Halloween colors in next month though...and then I take those down to put up leaves for November.”
He loved her place. It was as adorable as she was. Even if he shouldn’t think that way. He enjoyed coming to work. Even if she was going to make him crazy. The flowers were pretty. It made the place utterly welcoming. More of the side of the personality he never really heard about from The Department on display. “What do y’do for the winter?” He asked grabbing the vine that dangled out of her reach and helped her put it up. With her on the stepstool she was a head taller than Harry.
It was not the time to think such things. Plus, she had never thought anything about any of her security detail before of course, but obviously Harry was much closer in age to her than anyone else before him. She couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was and now she was eye level with him. He didn’t question her. Didn’t yell at her for balancing precariously on the step stool, he didn’t care that she had hundreds of flowers to put up. He followed her around the apartment all afternoon chatting with her about her interior design vision.
“I feel like I need something to balance out poinsettias though,” she shrugged as they moved to her bedroom. Harry helped her more and she accepted it, surprisingly. He listened to her rant and rave about flowers and didn’t seem to mind at all that he was being paid to decorate with her. “Most winter flowers are red,” she explained. “I like red, but it’s overwhelming, you know? I think winterberries are beautiful, but I love petals,” she continued.
“Well, what ‘bout snowdrop?” Harry asked.
She paused her movements, tilted her head at him. “I don’t know that one,” she admitted. He quickly reached for his phone, tapped it several times then handed it to her.
“These?” He suggested. The screen showed the pretty little white flowers, and she glanced back at Harry. “They’d look pretty with winterberry or poinsettias,” he murmured.
Harry liked flowers. How fascinating. She assumed, like most of the other agents before him, Harry probably knew every detail of her life. Maybe better than she did sometimes. But of course, Harry was quite tight-lipped. She knew some of his food and drink tastes, but she didn’t know much about his home life, why he came to America, or how he ended up on her detail.
But he liked flowers enough to know the names of them. Enough to show an interest in something she cared about. Even if it was just a bunch of wall décor. Handing the phone back to him, she smirked at him. “I think I’ll order some fake ones on Amazon. Thank you,” she smiled.
Harry smiled back at her. “Happy t’help,” he mumbled and held his hand out for her to get off the step stool. “Any plans for today?”
Her plan was to torture Harry now that they were in single digit days until classes restarted. But his kindness ruined that. She sort of hated that he was so nice to her even when she was a bitch. He was really ruining all the hard work she put into terrifying a division of special agents. “Just work and movies probably.”
He nodded. “Sure, I’ll be here,” he smirked and found his seat at the dining table.
“You could sit over here if you want. That chair can’t be comfy all day,” she said.
He shrugged. “S’not bad,” he said gathering his stuff and moving to the opposite sofa she was on. He settled in as she scrolled through different titles on Netflix.
“Do you have any recommendations?” She asked. “I suck at picking movies.”
“I can recommend a rom-com if s’your thing,” he shrugged. “I haven’t watched it yet. Someone else recommended it t'me.”
She adored the idea that her intimidating, closed-lipped bodyguard liked rom-coms. She put it on immediately. If it was formulaic, she didn’t care. She liked knowing what to expect. Watching a movie with Harry was also relaxing. The first time neither of them spoke or acted tensely about her whereabouts. They both chuckled at the same time at different parts and pointed out funny things to rewind ten seconds that the other had missed in the background.
Of all the time she had spent with her bodyguards over the last seven years, this was one of the best afternoons she ever had.
*
The worst of his job started about a week after her classes started. She was out with friends and Harry deemed the drunk college men harmless and gave her more space at the bar where she and her friends danced.
He could see where Niall was coming from, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to him. Harry was a bit competitive and didn’t want The Department to know he was feeling bested by her too.
But he couldn’t help but be annoyed that it happened much more frequently throughout the month of September and October, becoming routine. Monday through Thursday and Sunday she spent in class, studying, or working in her sitting room and still somehow managing to get one of her jogs in before sunset almost daily. Fridays and Saturdays were spent all but torturing Harry. He had to be much more ready for her attempted escapes.
The first weekend that her classes started, she literally climbed out the bathroom window of the bar. The only reason he caught her was because one of the loudmouth guys she was with was watching a video her friend had sent of her crawling out the window and he was laughing at the hysterics of it. When Harry caught up to her at the corner of the road, she hurled several insults at him that he hadn’t once heard fall from her lips.
“I’m a grown fucking woman,” she snapped. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“S’protocol,” he shrugged. Even if he liked her, he was there to do a job.
The time after that, she simply tried outrunning him, but his legs allowed for much longer strides than her, so she didn’t get too far from him. That time she threw her shoe at him, narrowly avoiding his head. She limped awkwardly to the SUV where she sulked. Harry picked up her shoe and placed it at her feet before he drove her back to her place, where she slammed the door to her room but didn’t come back out once. Since he caught her that time, no paperwork was required.
The following week she was making out with someone in the bathroom hallway and while the idea was disgusting because she deserved far better accommodations than a bathroom hall in a messy bar in a college town, this wasn’t even that bad as far as his job went. But it did make his chest hot with jealousy.
So, he let her make out with the stupid guy while he drank his water at the bar.
The next time she hopped into a car with a stranger. Fortunately, her friend was with her so Harry didn’t worry about her well-being too much. But once he followed her to his place of residence she screamed some more while Harry just watched her have her temper tantrum. Her friend seemed entirely used to these outbursts. She ushered the guys they had met upstairs while she slunk back to the SUV once more. Grumbling and cursing at Harry under her breath.
That event required a huge, detailed report and a grumbly talking to from one of the higher ups. It made Harry irritable but found it hard to stay completely mad at her because she made brownies the following day and told him to help himself—like a peace offering.
Despite the insults and the cursing, Harry would attend meetings and debriefings where they would ask Harry if he wanted out. “Would you like to be reassigned?” They sounded tired. Like they were already anticipating who they would get to replace him.
“Did she ask for someone new?” He asked.
His supervisory blinked at him. “No...but...don’t you want out? It’s been almost a month and a half.”
He frowned. “Er...with all do respect. If she doesn’t mind me, then I’ll stay.”
Harry wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.
*
The worst however was her escape from the concert. There were simply too many variables. Even with a team of ten, Harry still felt outnumbered by her and her friend. To be fair, they told Harry ahead of the concert it was a lost cause. There was no way she wouldn’t escape. It was her best chance.
She was getting ready for the night in her bathroom. Harry was vigilant as ever in the dining area.  She came out to the living room to check on her phone charging on the side table. She looked comfy and adorable. Jeans, converse, a tanktop that fit loosely so it showed off...her assets in a tasteful way. Harry thought she was pretty as always. “Y’look nice,” he mumbled.
She glanced at him curiously and her cheeks warmed at his compliment. “Thank you,” she responded kindly. He closed his laptop and he sighed.
“Look,” he said. Immediately, her kindness disappeared from her face.
“Harry,” she sighed not feeling like fighting.
“I know you’re going to escape,” he told her. “Whatever, s’jus’ more paperwork, right?” He asked with a weak smile. She frowned knowing that he already anticipated her idea for the night. “Please,” he said. “Can y’jus’ send me your location?” He pleaded. “Please," he repeated. "I won’t tell anyone, I won’t make it a big deal. I...jus’ want t’know you’re safe,” he explained. Biting the inside of her cheek she opened her message thread with Harry looking away from his intense gaze. She shared her location for the next twenty-four hours with him. “Thank you,” he said appreciatively getting the alert on his phone. “If y’get into trouble or y’feel unsafe, please jus’ call,” he continued. “I won’t make a big deal of that either.”
He seemed so genuine. Like he really cared about her safety beyond the protocol of his job.
“Okay,” she nodded in promise. “Thank you,” she said seriously. She honestly hoped he sensed the authenticity of her gratitude. Harry was the first person to treat her like a human. Even if she gave him a hard time more often than not.
If she wasn’t careful, she was really going to fall in love with him.
*
It was a shame that her willingness to help Harry out didn’t pan out the way he hoped. When the concert had ended, he thought he had actually done a good job. He kept an eye on her little marker the entire time; she was in place at her seat the duration of the concert. He even got to enjoy a bit of the indie band she was seeing—he heard her play the music on while she worked or read but never really noticed how much he actually liked it. They even put on a good show.
But when most had filed out of her section, he came to the conclusion that she was no longer present. With a groan he headed down to her section, finding not a trace of her behind. But her phone still said she was here. He started searching beneath the seats, dodging sticky soda and alcohol along with popcorn strewn about.
He found an array of jewelry and a condom packet. He even found a wallet that he would bring by to lost and found. But it was her phone that he found that made his body warm with more rage. The flower phone case he was used to seeing around her apartment mocked him. She tricked him. After all that.
The idea of paperwork didn’t compare to the hurt he felt over her betraying deceit.
*
She was enjoying a drink with her friends at one of their favorite spots. For the first time in months, she felt so carefree. They were discussing their latest exams and how nice the concert was. A round of drinks sat empty in front of them while they sipped on the second. Harry was giving her ample space. But that should have been her first clue.
Her arm was yanked out of the booth, and she nearly lost her footing as Harry grabbed onto her but continued to hold her upright.
“Are you fucking serious?” He snapped. Everyone turned to look at him. She scrambled to stand upright. She was ready to scream at him for tugging her out of the booth like that. In front of all her friends. Everyone was silent as she opened her mouth to yell. But then she saw it.
Harry was pissed.
Instantly, she wavered. Her face contorting from anger to worry, sadness. She looked upset. Remorseful even. “Harry,” she started.
“I don’t know what your problem is with me—”
“I didn’t—”
“—but I didn’t do anything t’warrant this!” He shouted, holding her phone up. She instinctively felt for her pocket and realized her mistake. Oh...he was going to kill her.
But still, he was currently embarrassing her.
She wanted to scream right back at him. But she knew he was mad. She knew why he was mad. He asked for hardly anything at all tonight—knowing she was going to leave. It was kind of him to give her so much grace and freedom when no one on that team had ever done so. Even though she left without a word, she truly thought her phone was in her bag. She hadn’t even thought to look for it because she never lost her phone.
“I know y’think s’a big joke. But I take m’job seriously. I take protocol seriously. Jus’ because you want t’pout and cry like a bratty little girl, doesn’t mean y’going t’ruin my life. My career.”
Her eyes narrowed. She hated to be yelled at. Belittled. It made her extremely angry. Regardless of how much she actually liked him. Despite the fact she felt bad she accidentally betrayed his trust. But he was embarrassing her in front of friends and calling her names that everyone else in the department used daily, pissed her off beyond belief.
She glared at him, set her jaw firmly. She could feel frustrated tears lining her vision and she grabbed her purse out of the booth violently. She made no eye contact with the group of her silent friends. She marched right outside to the SUV he had double-parked. Slamming the door shut behind her, she waited until Harry was in the car as well.
“I didn’t know I didn’t have it,” she seethed.
He scoffed. “Bullshit.”
She closed her eyes tightly. So tightly she saw red dancing in her vision. “Believe what you want. I didn’t know,” she snapped. “You were so embarrassing in there. I’m sorry I pissed you off. Again, I really didn’t mean it. But you didn’t have to embarrass me in front of my friends like that.”
“If you’re going to act like a brat—”
She shook her head slowly balling her fists in her lap. “If you call me a brat one more time, I’m going to punch you in the throat,” it was a promise. Harry didn’t think she would cause all that much damage, but he didn’t think it would be wise to take a punch to the throat while he was driving her.
They were silent for five minutes while he drove her back to her place. “You really didn’t know?” He asked, his voice a hair softer.
She glared out the window with a silent shake of her head. “M’sorry,” she murmured.
He sighed and listened to the sound of the tires thrumming against the road for a bit.
“M’sorry I called y’a brat in front of your friends... Can y’please...try t’be...I don’t know...good for me? I like t’think m’not that bad of a guy. M’not that bad at m’job...that I give y’enough space...that we’re...okay.”
More silence until they parked. “You’re the best bodyguard I ever had,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t mean to do that to you.”
He nodded. “Okay...I accept your apology. Can y’try t’be more mindful?”
She nodded in return. “I’ll try.”
“Call me next time, okay?”
“I don’t know your phone number,” she rolled her eyes.
“Well memorize it,” he sighed a touch of agitation in his tone. She should memorize it for emergencies. “And y’need a failsafe.”
“A what?”
“A failsafe. Assurance that if everything goes—”
“I know what a failsafe is, you ass. What do you mean I need one?”
He ignored her name calling. She deserved one after he called her a brat. “If...something happens t’you. Y’need a way t’get in touch with me. But something that no one else knows. Not even me. But s’got t’be easy enough for me t’figure out. We can go over some of them if y’want that others have used in the past so y’have some ideas t’work with,” he tapped on the steering wheel. “I know I said this was a job, but I do actually care about y’safety.”
She was silent for a few more moments. “If you yell at me like that in front of everyone again, I’ll kill you,” she promised opening her door to head back up to her apartment. He smirked.
“Maybe y’don’t need a failsafe; I pity the person that tries t’take you on.”
*
As frustrating as she could be, she was equally, if not more, lovely in that it made him forget all the paperwork and all the annoyance she caused him. They were on a Target run; she was wandering the aisles casually meandering at her leisure. Harry was eyeing her surroundings, assuring himself there was nothing that would put her in danger.
Honestly, some days he could see why she didn’t want a detail. She didn’t do anything that warranted protection and it didn’t seem like anyone was after her. Not once had he heard from or met with The Secretary of State. While he was grateful for a cushy job, he could see why she was always grumpy about it.
She was scanning new book titles on the shelf and placed two of them in her basket when she suddenly took off without warning. Harry followed after her, caught off guard by her quick pace mildly irritated him once more she evaded him. What he expected of her was never what happened.
She entered the dressing room area, making Harry more irritated that he couldn’t follow her immediately into the women’s section. He wanted to know what he missed, that had her running through the dressing room so fast that she dropped her basket full of mismatching items outside as she hurried back out almost as quickly as she went in.
“You didn’t see her, did you?” She asked Harry before he could ask her what the problem was.
He grabbed her basket that she left behind as she took off once more. He followed after her as she hurried through the other sections of the store.
“See who?” He asked almost running to keep up with her alert pace.
“Seriously?” She asked behind her. “You didn’t hear the frantic mother looking for her child? Aren’t you supposed to be watching for these things?”
He felt his mouth twitch to snap back at her, but she looked genuinely alarmed. Almost as alarmed as the employees in red shirts running around almost as quickly as she was. Despite the sympathetic pang he felt for the upset woman calling a little girl’s name out around the aisles, it wasn’t their problem. It especially wasn’t Harry’s problem who was assigned to watch the 24-year-old—so no, he didn’t really pay attention to the worry in the department store.
“M’sure she’s fine, love,” Harry said trying to assuage her worries. He felt bad, she was so worried. He even felt...awe for her. Her . But she wasn’t giving up it seemed, as she made a quick stop through the clearance section nearly causing Harry to twist an ankle at her sudden turn. She didn’t respond to Harry’s calming voice.
“Someone could have just walked off with her,” she remarked nervously.
Harry could see the fierceness in her eyes. She was resolute: they weren’t leaving the store until this girl was found. Sighing, Harry kept one eye on the girl he was paid to follow and another on the lookout for a small little one that was probably terrified.
Harry tried to tell her something about hideouts and the like, but it was unhelpful. They gleaned they were looking for an eight-year-old. “We’re not thinking like eight-year-olds,” she muttered suddenly and nearly left Harry in the dust as she all but sprinted toward the back of the store once more.
Harry found her crouched in the middle of the aisle, talking to the Halloween costumes on a rack. “Hey, cutie pie, whatcha looking for?” Her voice was soft and gentle.
“I lost my mommy,” the little voice whispered from the rack.
Harry found himself sighing with relief dropping her basket of things by her side. The little girl looked up at Harry suspiciously. She was hidden behind a dog costume and the tule of a tutu beside it. “That’s really scary,” the girl nodded. “I hate losing my mommy,” she said. The little one was still staring at Harry with nervousness.
“This is Harry,” she told her. “He’s tall, huh?” She smiled gently. “Can we help you find your mommy?”
“Mommy said no strangers,” she shook her head pressing herself firmly against the rack, her eyes watery. “I’m scared.”
The girl nodded, sitting on the floor, cross-legged. “Well, I think that’s really smart of you. Mommy would be really proud of you,” she had a comforting smile on her lips. “How about we stay here, and Harry will go get your mommy?”
Harry looked disgruntled as he made a noise in the back of his throat. He couldn’t leave her alone...even for the sake of a child. Even if they were just in a target. “Love,” he started.
She turned her head to Harry. “They are running around the store just to find someone,” she hissed under her breath before turning her gentle façade back to the little girl. “Whatcha got there?” She asked. “Halloween book?” She wondered.
The little one nodded, stepping cautiously off the display of costumes. Tentatively, she sat next to the woman that drove Harry up a wall most days. But right now, she was so gentle, so sweet. Harry felt nothing but pure adoration for her and her kindness to the little one. “Please?” She asked, turning back to Harry as the little one opened the book up and started showing her the pictures in the middle of the floor. Her expression was kind, warm, pleading.
Begrudgingly, Harry headed toward the front of the store in search of the terrified mother.
*
There was a bit of fanfare—especially after realization of who the woman was that found the little one and was reading a picture book on the dusty store floor. She paid no mind to it, said it was her pleasure to help.
After paying for her things, Harry opened the door for her to the SUV and she climbed inside. He felt a bit awestruck. Sure, she was the daughter of a top political official, but that fame didn’t really mean anything to Harry. He was more impressed with her gentle nature. Her kindness. She was cute with kids and had a fiercely protective streak of her own.
She didn’t even mention it; moreover, thought nothing of it, just scrolled through her phone. “Can we get coffee?” She asked.
He thought she might be his hero. Pain in the ass she was. “Course, love,” he murmured. Heroes needed a reward for their efforts. Even if they didn’t see it that way. “You drink an awful lot of coffee.”
“Biochemistry will do that to you,” she muttered, irritated by his remark. It clearly had been said to her before. Somehow, in that moment, Harry realized that she was also fiercely protective of herself. Maybe she had to be given how The Department talked about her behind her back. Maybe because everyone looked at her as if she didn’t know anything as a woman in a science major that Harry could hardly pronounce half the words for when he saw her notes on the coffee table.
“That was really cool of you,” he mumbled pulling into traffic toward the coffee shop. “The way y’helped that little girl.”
She turned to look at Harry. “She was scared,” she sounded defensive. Like Harry was mocking her.
“I know,” he said seriously. “Y’calmed her down and y’helped her. Was really nice,” he shrugged one shoulder hoping he sounded more sincere so she wouldn’t yell again.
She turned to the window. “I got lost at the store once with my dad,” she explained. “I was six. I was terrified. He didn’t even know I was lost until he drove home,” she mumbled. “It was the most terrified I’ve ever felt in my whole life.”
He pulled into the parking lot and she hurried out before Harry could say another word. He watched her intently as she stood in line, ordered, and returned with tea for Harry without even asking him if he wanted some. She was always very thoughtful toward him. Whether she annoyed him beyond belief or not.
For every moment of irritation, anxiety, and annoyance she had put him through thus far on this assignment, it all was swept clean as he thought about what she said. Her dad asking for a protection detail made no sense. Who loses their six-year-old without noticing? Was the protection detail some deep-seated need to fix his mistake all those years ago? What kind of political official could hold office with a straight face knowing his daughter had that kind of dirt on him? How could she not shout it from rooftops?
Harry was right. She had to be fiercely protective of herself because no one else was.
He hoped that eventually she would let him protect her just as much; maybe even stop her frustrating fleeing. Because despite the irritation she often caused, he was really starting to like the many sides of her.
--
general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach
Protection taglist: @youcouldstartacult @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @luxiorchive @ameerakane20 @daphnesutton @kathb59 @be-with-me-so-happily
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danger-noodle-uwu · 10 months
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hii! i really like the "is love supposed to hurt" that hurt a lot can you please write another part where the reader moved on lollol it's fine if you don't<33 -anon
𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔
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𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖; 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝙸𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝
𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎; 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝
𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜;𝙺𝚊𝚎𝚢𝚊/𝙳𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚌/𝙰𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚍𝚘/𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚎/𝚉𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒/𝚡𝚒𝚊𝚘
𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐; 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗/𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕/yandere themes/𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗/𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎/𝚎𝚝𝚌
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"It worked..." KAEYA murmured to himself; his tongue laced with bitterness by the wine in his hand or the tears he kept swallowing as his eyes glued on the sight of you. You speaking with a certain drunkard who was clinging to your neck, decorating the skin with kisses; the skin once he kissed.
The sensation of someone he loved calling another pet names was such a funny feeling where you would call the bard "love" and he would pretend it's him. The notion was making him sick to his stomach; seeing that stupid anemo archon recieving your touch and caress was killing him. Slowly stinging his eyes more than before.
With tears, he was forced to swallow with the wine as the night was washed away with an image of what could've been his and now belonged another.
ALBEDO attained her. She loved him, he loved her and it was perfect...was it not? Despite every piece of the puzzle falling into its place, he felt hollow. His chest bore emptiness, one that haunted him at the very beginning. One that now drags him back to where he started. Back to you..?
"NO!" He shot up in cold sweat as his darling lover rose beside him to wipe away the beads off his forehead and asked him what's wrong. He couldn't dare reply or do anything as a matter of fact. He couldn't ruin what he had now...
The one who was beside him was the dream he wished to achieve, and yet he failed to realize that. And now, no words could his tongue as he cradled his lover.
DILUC never cared for how a single raindrop could ever be enough to draw endless tears from you until now when it landed upon his cheek. The burning sensation taunting his skin and sliding down his face as if a glass shard was cutting deep within.
For him, you became a melting candle; one that struggled to give light until the very end. Or much akin to a bird, one that flew hopelessly in the blue sky. But who would've known you would ever attain freedom? Fly far away from him.
It was a mistake to be gluttonous for your salty tears when he could have been receiving a pearly smile. But all was lost thanks to an Alchemist who holds you in the same manner he did and adores you just like he did. The only difference is the diamonds you cried for DILUC are now filling his own grave for him...
"Still pathetic as ever." He's lying, CHILDE is lying, whether to himself or somebody else he no longer knows. Yet his chest aches the same way he made yours hurt. So weak he is that each night he bleeds for you while you are blooming into fit of laughter; one he's particularly unfamiliar with. After all, it was only your cries that pleased him, not a clumsy smile.
It hurts him, but will he admit defeat or lay denial and the tears that never won over his ego. The shine in his eyes still diminished, but the hint of agony freshly engraved within. Your voice, the joy emanating from it, haunts him as a ghostly memory remains.
"Still pathetic as ever." a wounded reflection stares back...
A man of his word; ZHONGLI no longer found his gaze searching for glaze lilies. However, those flowers that bore your scent and distantly admired them. The promise of love he silently gave to you with another's image was the only remains of what you and him ever had.
Not a memory present in his head where he'd seen 'you' but an illusion that clouded his head; at the time, uncaring of the dullness slowly enveloping you into numbness. And one that came to your aid wasn't him. His biggest regret. It was, however, you who pulled themselves together and became much more, yet everything that was once there was lost.
A man of his word; MORAX failed to keep his word to you.
Bearing the glimmer in his eyes; one that XIAO struggled to hold, he sat upon the roof of Wangshu inn; pondering if you could see through the facade... despite him pouring his whole being into such lies that he knew they could never be true.
An emotion he could never bear for you...yet Morax, his savior, too, holds you dear; far dearer than he does. Those cursed hands of his are undesirable and undeserving of you. He is unworthy and dangerous to your fragile being who should protected and held with gentleness; one he could never offer.
Thus, from afar, he'll watch Morax wipe away your tears and tend to you in the same manner he can only dream to...
"Goodbye...my love..."
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ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 (ɪs ʟᴏᴠᴇ sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴜʀᴛ)
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faresong · 6 months
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figuring out my gijinka designs ^_^
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Hallownest draws from Japanese inspiration in my headcanons. With this in mind as applied to this AU, I believe (as a general rule) higher-class folks would end up with detailed, painted masks & additional accessories surrounding it (as seen with Lurien's butler contrasted against Quirrel's). Lower-class will still paint theirs, but cannot afford to buy new masks very often; this makes their mask feel much more permanent and personal—thus, most will engrave their masks instead.
Lurien's mask is an odd case in it being rather blank. While crafted specifically by the King's hand to fit him, it lacks any visible design—that is, until one attempts to use magic against him. Only then do the seals of protection glow and reveal the true pattern the King granted his dutiful Watcher, though the assailant likely won't live to share that fact. In another sense, however, Lurien's seemingly blank mask only further emphasizes his use as the King's right-hand. Only ever an extension of him, where only his king knows his true use. He is as Hallownest must see him, and nothing more.
...There are very few who know what lay beneath.
In any case, it is mentioned on the first sheet, but I will delve into more detail on masks' significance in others' cultures as well:
Deepnest occasionally uses masks, or their charms, to acknowledge the community which raised them with pride; as it contains a multitude of rich cultures within it (particularly drawn from East Asian inspiration, here) who are generally (presently) amicable with one another. It is easier to mark trade, as well as shift to other languages as a show of hospitality. Due to its winding passages, children will often get lost in exploration (an encouraged pastime), and are then escorted back to their people if need be. These charms are typically placed in their family's shrine once they've passed; carrying a charm that is not your own is seen as grave disrespect, even if the person in question is not dead. Each person is brought to the one we know as Mask Maker for their charm, drawn from their essence, and to take the charm is to act as if one claims agency over another person. Even parents rarely hold their child's charm.
As for the Uomas, granted a part of Unn's land, Monomon is the one who oversees these creatures. Recognizing the responsibility she is capable of handling, as well as her evident intelligence in her work with the Mosskin, Hallownest approached her as equals with intention to work a beneficial truce. Hesitantly, Monomon accepted their terms with the promise they would not further impose on Unn's land—still, the canyon would be safe travel for all persons, as a neutral ground. Hallownest gave her resources, and the King made her mask to show this allegiance. Though she rarely (properly) wears it, she will have it on her when working with Hallownest's scholars to show respect for them & expect respect in turn. Monomon is at peace co-existing with all surrounding areas; the only one she is wary of is Hallownest... it poses great threat, but she finds solace in knowing she has made herself a necessary pillar in the kingdom's technological development despite being a foreigner. She may use her position to open the minds of those who choose to study or collaborate with her—to see the people who surround them as societies in their own right, worth learning about despite Hallownest's imperialistic views. It is significantly easier to get through to scholars that have come from poorer backgrounds, but the environment she's cultivated does manage to steadily wear down the harsher beliefs ingrained in them.
After a few years spent with Quirrel, Monomon began incorporating some of his traditional dress for herself and encouraged him to do the same when he was to visit her (and, inevitably, when he lived in the Archive). She quite enjoys studying culture & its history, and would often ask Quirrel to indulge her questioning considering he was a first-generation immigrant to Hallownest. Once she manages to meet Herrah in-person, she does the same—with their meeting coinciding with the King's requests to pursue the Dreamer Project, she wanted to help preserve what she could of Deepnest should the plan fail. Kept not in Hallownest's texts, but her own... there was still much that Herrah preferred to keep to oral stories, but she did eventually learn to trust Monomon in this (despite her alliance with Hallownest).
The masks that are gifted by the King often have a slowing effect on the aging of their chosen person. Monomon was already given Unn's blessing (aging & enhancing magic) to help protect what remains in Her stead, but the mask still applies its effect to Quirrel once he'd 'stolen' it (and with it, a part of Monomon's own soul that'd been fused with it). The same applies with Lurien & each of the Five Knights, though no one else is really given the luxury... not even those of the Pale Court, except for one. Even she would come to see it as a curse, however, despite the cheer she presently puts forth.
A lot of poor communities in Hallownest tend to wear more earthly colors, whereas the nobles are given more variety in color/cloth. Many of them consider the land they inhabit carelessly, an idea which doesn't carry over to any other community that has existed much longer than Hallownest; most prefer warm, natural colors by contrast. Monomon specifically puts a spin on Hallownest's noble clothing in mixing it with the Mosskin's cloth (in this particular outfit, it is her skirt).
& As for the particulars of this 'human AU' (of sorts), here's a general listing: Herrah as mixed Syrian-Filipino; Monomon as Jamaican; Quirrel as Vietnamese; Lurien & his butler as Japanese; Hegemol as Korean.
Hm-hm... other than that, I don't think I have much else to talk about that is specific to this AU. It's mostly my excuse to draw the cast as humans (which is easier for me, haha). I'm open to questions, of course, but as this stands... I think I've said all I meant to say/clarify. Thank you for reading :D
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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a.
uh. so.
dbf!hotch .... where reader, in an attempt to shake off some unwanted advances at some sort of gathering (party, meeting, whatever) pretends that aaron is her boyfriend & he just... rolls with it
hhhHHNNGHN HIM <3
today is multiverse monday! send me an au you can think of :)
--
He sees you barreling towards him from 20 feet away, chest clenching at your obvious discomfort. Your shoulders are stiff, you're walking fast, and your eyes are blown wide.
"He's-" He catches your breathless urgency, "He's here!"
You lunge for him, and he balks. Your arm curls around his bicep, but he thinks the only reason you don't grab his hand is because it's got a drink in it. The cup leaks condensation onto the grass below, and a drop of it catches the toe of the sneaker you have on. You curl beneath his arm, winding yourself into his bicep and letting it rest over your shoulders.
"Baby," You grin at Aaron from under his arm, still visibly discontent, "This is.. uh, Mike? I think. He's one of Henry's friends."
The boy in question, definitely too young to be confidently flirting with you, raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms with an amused gaze.
Aaron realizes what you're doing. He takes the arm that's slung over your shoulders and lifts it up and over your head, stepping between you and Mike. He nods at the teen, switching his drink between hands and offering a handshake that seems friendly, but that's much too firm. Afterwards he reaches back for your hand, and he won't ever admit to himself how fantastic it is to hold it.
"Didn't know you were a grave robber," Mike quips, the few ghostly hairs on his upper lip shadowing his face, "Jesus, aren't any women into men their own age?"
"No," You cling tighter to Aaron, and you feel his large thumb rub against the back of your hand, "But you might wanna try some of the moms. It works the same way in reverse."
With that, Mike is a milf hunter. He treks away across the grass and approaches a gaggle of mothers, all of which you've neglected to tell him are happily married. Aaron seems to get the same satisfaction out of this knowledge as you do, and he bites back the smirk that threatens to curl over his face.
"Are you okay?" He trades it in for concern, feeling your grip on his hand steady. You're clearly still freaked out, or you would have dropped it by now. Unless you like it or something.
"Yeah," You breathe, nodding as you monitor the boy, making sure he doesn't come back, "I, uh- I'm sorry about-" You seem to realize that you're still gripping his hand hard enough to bruise it, dropping it with a surge of heat to your cheeks, "That."
"It's alright," He promises, "I'm glad you came to me."
"Yeah, me too." You admit, your smile sheepish, "Thanks, Aaron."
"You can thank me later," He promises, "Mike, was it? I'm going to ask his mother if she knows he's skulking around older women at family parties."
This time it's you that bites your lips to stop yourself from breaking. He takes pride in the shift of your face, a swell of it crashing against his ribcage and washing over his heart.
"I think Henry might be more grossed out than she would be," You muse, and though you'd dropped his hand in a fit of bashfulness, you're still standing close enough to him that your shoulders are brushing. He lets out a laugh at that, picturing the mortified teen. It's hearty, a single shake of his shoulders that reverberates through your belly, twisting it up into knots.
"Really, though," Your tone dampens, and it softens his gaze too, "Thank you. I'm sorry I just ambushed you like that, he was freaking me out."
"It's okay," He insists, "I'm glad you know you're safe with me. And it's been a while since anybody's called me baby."
He knows he's broken you out of your unnecessary, guilt-ridden slump when your grin reaches your eyes, crinkling their corners like tissue in a present he wants to unwrap with.
"Well maybe you should get used to it," You tease, hooking your arm back around his bicep and curling it against his muscle, "I might need you to stand in again if that one ever makes his way over.'
He follows your tensed gaze, eyes landing upon one of his own. He's a new agent, not working with the BAU, but around their office enough that he knows the guy. He can guarantee that, come tomorrow, he won't have a job if he decides to mess with you tonight.
"Don't worry, honey bunches," He turns, shielding you from the man behind you and subsequently pressing his chest to yours, sickeningly handsome smile only inches from your wide-eyed, exhilarated grin, "I'll take care of him for you."
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