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#though i am thankful she’s not in pain anymore
adventuringblind · 2 days
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Chin Up, Princess (2k words)
Max Verstappen x Reader
Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Jos oversteps and causes a whole lot of hurt for Max and his mate, he takes things into his own hands and ends up resorting to extreme measures in order to save his lover. (Background Landoscar, Charlos, and Sewis)
Warnings: Mind control, talks of eating people and mentions of gore but nothing explicit, ghoul on ghoul violence, burning of a character, major character death (not a good guy tho), ED but like... also not an ED, soulbonds
Notes: Ironically the most tame ghoulverse fic I've done thus far. Thank you to🏍️for the amazing idea!!
Side Note: Feed my praise kink please?
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It’s raining again. The kind of rain Monaco doesn’t see often. The torrential downpour that keeps everyone hidden away inside to keep warm. 
She watches the water droplets race down the window, wondering which one will hit the edge first. It’s not productive, but she needs something to distract her from the ache in her bones. The hunger pains have gotten progressively worse over the last three weeks. Still, she’s finding ways to cope. She has to manage; the pain is what’s keeping her sane. 
 It’s nice being home and hidden behind the water covered window. It means she’s free to drop the human look. All horns and tail, long tongue and sharp teeth, dark eyes and pointed ears. It’s natural - or it used to be. 
It doesn’t quite feel like her anymore. Like somehow everything that had once been a part of her is now irritating. Her horns are heavy and her tail refuses to be anywhere but the ground. All because his words sit in her head and bounce around the cavity in her chest. 
He changed her. 
~~~♡~~~
A month ago, she ran into Jos in the paddock. Even though she doesn’t like the guy, he’s still technically her king - and Max’s dad - so her father in law in a way. Max had mated with her (a heavenly feeling) but had done so without the consent of his father. 
Jos doesn’t like her one bit. Which she doesn’t care about. If Max is the prince of the demons and set to take up leadership at some point, that makes her a princess. They both dislike each other but in the essence of keeping things civil, she makes it work. 
“I didn’t expect to see you here today!” She nodded her head to show respect. Opting for that instead of bowing to this man in broad daylight. 
“I wish I hadn’t seen you at all!” Well - fuck you too - she supposes. She’d fallen into step beside him as they made their way to the Redbull garage. 
She nearly crashes into him when he stops abruptly. He grabs hold of her bicep and drags her down some alleyway between buildings. She goes with compliance, hell only knows what this man can and will do to her. 
Her back hits the wall with a disorienting force. “You’re not enough for us.” 
“I think you mean for you.” 
Jos hisses close enough to her face that she can feel his saliva hitting her. “The council decided you’re not one of us-'' He grabs her chin and she watches as his eyes fade to that deep dark color that usually means something bad is about to happen.
“You will not eat. You are not one of us. Am I clear?” 
She snaps at him. Her attempt at fighting his hold is futile. Not when the damn demon king is trying to hypnotize her. “No!” 
He clamps a hand over her mouth and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. The open flame hovers just above the healed over scar on her clavicle. She shakes, desperate to get away from the heat. “You will not eat. You are not a ghoul. You are not one of us.”
It’s a hypnotic tone that seeps through her ears and floods her veins. The heat of the flame no longer her one weakness as her mind submits itself to the will of her king. 
~~~♡~~~
Her jaw snapped shut. Her vocal chords refused to work. Her throat constricts around liquids. Her teeth become glued to each other each time she tries to bite down into something of nutrients. 
A month of this torture and she can feel herself getting progressively more ravenous. Slowly they’ve exhausted all of their options. No matter how desperately she tries, she can’t get any substance into her. 
Max’s reflection appears in the window. A frown etched upon lips. It doesn’t suit him; Max was made to smile. She likes being the one to cause it. These days it feels like all he’s doing is trying to ease her slow and painful death. 
He sits opposite of her and heaves out a gust of warm air on the window. His pointer finger paints a simple picture of a stick figure. It’s - objectively - a terrible drawing, but it serves its purpose and makes her laugh. 
“I’m scared, Max.”
“I know, schat.” 
They continue to stare out the window. The bond doing the talking for them, passing their emotions back and forth. He can feel her pain and she can feel his inner rage. 
Humans don’t understand. Maybe they never will. They fear those who are different. Think this way and do this thing or you're a monster. Certainly not all of them. Lando and Charles are prime examples of this. Still - surviving amongst them gets harder each day. 
“I know what you want to do.” She turns towards him. Unbidden in the comfort of their own home. His tail flicks in uncertainty. A habit he picked up from Sebastian. “I don’t want you to regret it.” 
“It’s inevitable. Just earlier than planned.” He won’t meet her gaze. “I can’t watch you suffer when I can stop it.” 
“You have always been the chivalrous type.”
Max slides closer to her. His thumb comes to the underside of her chin and pushes it upward. Her eyes have nowhere else to go, forced to get lost in his. A never-ending sea of endless dark that she’d willingly drown in. 
“Chin up, love. There is going to be a crown on your head soon. I’d hate to see it hit the ground.”
~~~♡~~~
She hates not being able to go inside. She understands why she can’t though. She already has the weight of one hypnosis spell weighing her down; she’s more susceptible to another. 
Still, waiting is nerve wracking. The sound of familiar roars fill her ears. Occasionally wincing when she feels Max’s pain. Mild compared to what it is for him. 
Lando and Charles are sitting on the ground with her. Their mates are inside with Max, along with Lewis and Sebastian. She attempts to hold close to the bonds of their tribe. They’ve been planning this for the last couple of weeks. Every hole is plastered with flexi tape. 
“Relax, chéri. They are fine.” 
She won’t open her mouth to mutter a thanks. Not when she’s already salivating and can smell exactly where their pulse points are. Not when she can hear the steady rhythm of their hearts. 
No, she can’t eat, but she’d also rather not risk it. 
“Do we have to bow to you after this whole ordeal is over?” Lando looks at her with a curious expression. “Cause like - Oscar doesn’t bend like that.”
Both her and Charles gape and the odd statement. Lando looks like he’s just stated the weather on an average Monday morning. 
“Lando, are you sure it’s not you who doesn’t bend like that?”
“I think I know how I can bend mate! How do you think we broke the table-“
Charles grimaces, his nose scrunching up and cheeks turning red. “Bleh! I don’t need to know how Oscar bends you.” 
“You asked!”
“And now I regret it…”
Another roar bellows into the night sky. It’s loud and painful. She looks to the boys beside her for confirmation that it’s not Oscar or Carlos. They nod at her, leaving only three options. 
She bolts inside. 
The roars turn to whines. The fire rages over the body of Jos Verstappen. Max has sunk to his knees, the sunset hues of the flames reflect in his eyes and illuminate the tear tracks on his cheeks. 
She falls beside him. Panicked hands search for any possible wounds; any burns in need of immediate attention. Max is crying as she does so, but he’s smiling at the same time. There are a million emotions running through the room. The large flames a mercy to the now deceased king. 
A fallen king lay before them. His body burned to ashes. They watch as he is devoured by the fire. The silence is deafening. The only noise being the roar of the flames. An irony that doesn’t go unnoticed. To feel serene with the one thing that would surely kill her if the starvation doesn’t first. 
Max is the first to approach the pile of ashes on the ground. He creeps up to it like they might reanimate. Like they might take back what they once had and reestablish their hold on her mind with no chance at her escape. 
Sebastian meets Max in the middle. He scoops handfuls of the ash and decorates Max’s skin. The Dutch looks miserable when Sebastian dumps a handful into Max’s own cupped hands. 
“Do I have too?”
“Do you want your fathers powers?” 
He groans, but doesn’t wait any longer. He tries to be serious, but there is an element of humor here despite the situation. 
“Does this mean Max is a cannibal now?!” She supposes Lando is trying to whisper, but the building they are in echoes. He chokes when he hears it. 
“Lando! I am trying to eat my father!” 
“So you are a cannibal!” 
Oscar slaps a hand over his mate's mouth. Briefly, a look of disgust flashes across his face. “If you  really think licking me will work, you are mistaken.” Muffled sounds from underneath Oscar’s hand escape, but nobody understands. 
Max is finally able to choke down the ashes of his father. Certainly not the most conventional of coronations, but she can’t picture it any other way. 
“Never thought I’d see the day where we were dropping to our knees for this guy.” Carlos chuckles from somewhere beside her as they close in on the new king. 
Not a prince anymore - a king. 
It suits him more, she thinks. Standing tall in front of his tribe, still laughing at Lando and Oscar and their odd positioning. At Carlos and his playful pride as he kneels. He exchanges a smile with Charles after years of rivalry now comes a shared respect. He turns endearingly to Sebastian and Lewis looking at him like proud parents. 
Then to her. She’s on the ground, her knees bruised already. Max pulls her up into his arms. He brings his hands to her jaw and once again she drifts into the calm of his endless eyes. 
Soft fingers massage her jaw. The one that aches with a desperate need for something she hasn’t had in so long. He’s gentle with her, like an antique porcelain doll that might break if he applies too much pressure. 
“You are worthy of every good thing. You are one of us, just as you always have been and you are deserving of your life.” 
The cement that had been fire in her veins vanishes as he speaks. Max keeps talking, but she’s too lost in the relief from these heavy feelings - the euphoria of knowing she belongs again. The cavern of her chest is beating with words of comfort. 
Her horns don’t feel like extra weights and her tail finds Max’s with immediate ease. They intertwine like they had before. 
“You are here and loved. You have a place with us.” He tilts her chin upward like he’s done since they mated. “Chin up, your highness, you’re a queen now.” 
~~~♡~~~
Sated. 
Her body aches from a full belly instead of the hunger pains. As does the rest of their tribe, she presumes. 
Max keeps getting phone calls… and he keeps ignoring them. Instead opting to keep his attention focussed on his tribe. His love for them - for her - is radiating through his every move. 
“I think King Max sounds good on you.” She flashes her teeth at him. The others are either chatting, or if you’re Oscar then you’re using Lando as a blanket and sleeping. They are paying no attention to them. 
“You think? I’d always resented it.” 
“You’re going to change things, Max. That’s not something to resent.” They hook tails again, a comfort she’d missed dearly. “Plus, you’re stuck with me now since you saved my life. I’m going to be the most demanding queen.” She waves her hand around for dramatic flair. 
“Oh yeah? How so?” 
“First I’m going to demand that you cuddle me - and I’ll figure out the rest later!” 
“As you wish, your highness.” 
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So, I'm curious: What's your take on Aylin's experience after/if she kills Lorroakan?
Allegedly, there's some information floating around somewhere that said Aylin was angry with Selune after she killed Lorroakan, but I can't find where this info is.
If you saw posts about that here on tumblr it was probably posted by @justanotherignot! I've actually been meaning to gather up all the devnote tidbits about Selûne from Aylin and Isobel for a while now, so thank you for the excuse to do so and ramble a bit.
Player: I was just wondering what it was like in that cage of Balthazar's. Aylin: Let us not dwell on those dark days. Their memory is a vortex within my heart that leads directly to the Hells.
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What is happening is, well, it's the century of unthinkable horror catching up to her. It's the Trauma(TM) - in one of the conversation options she's literally triggered by the mention of someone being run through repeatedly! It's the growing awareness that although she's been freed (and possibly reunited with her love), the secret is out and there are always going to be assholes gunning for her, aiming to use her as an "artefact" and power source to fuel their ambitions, without any regard for her, you know... basic personhood and well-being. Also, Lorroakan was blatantly lying. He didn't find any super special way to siphon her immortality with "no harm, no pain of any kind", he was just replicating Balthazar's soul cage (you can even find a letter from Ketheric to him, showing Lorroakan was pestering them).
On to the stuff from the game files! First, the conversation with Aylin directly after the Lorroakan fight in the tower. I'm going to be putting the context notes in square brackets next to the lines they apply to. I also plucked some audio out from the files for some of these because I love the delivery.
Aylin: The fire-haired fool is dead. Yet as I stare upon his corpse, I feel… sadness. Why? [Slow and curious, angry and confused by all that has happened.] Player: What kind of sadness is it? / I know something of sadness - or at least the ballads do. What does it feel like? Aylin: A gripping in the chest. As though I'd lost someone, something. [Lost in thought for a moment; confused.] Aylin: A paladin's fatigue, no doubt. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side. [Remembering herself. She is Dame Aylin.] Aylin: I will catch my breath, then to camp I will bring my bones. Moonmaiden be with you. Player: Smiting is a weighty duty - sometimes it can be tiring. / Perhaps smiting has lost its pleasures. Aylin: Say it can't be so. For I am Selûne's sword. And ever must be. [She means it, but on the periphery of her consciousness is a tiny crack. Wondering about her fate.]
The above never fails to get me - she is Dame Aylin! Sword of the Moonmaiden! Glorious immortal paladin, champion of a righteous cause! She smites evil-doers for breakfast, that's, like, her whole thing! What do you mean she can't just pick up where she left off and go about her merry smitey way? What do you mean the thing that is supposed to be the literal core of her entire being (forever) doesn't feel good and glorious anymore, but just makes her feel sad and empty? No, no, no, we can't have that.
Player: One of the greatest tragedies of revenge is that it can only be taken once. / Because you won't get to kill him again? Aylin: Perhaps. Yet if I could run him through a thousand times, I wonder-- [Lost in thought, she's been triggered to remember her own fate being run through over and over.] Aylin: Battle has tired my mind, made me susceptible to flights of fancy. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side.
Aylin: I will return to camp shortly. I just need a moment to… to… [Lost in thought.]
She so very desperately needs some rest and a chance to come to terms with everything that happened and that was done to her. And it's clear it's going to be hard because she is defaulting to trying to deny anything is wrong, is clearly trying (and failing) to just be her old self immediately, has blatantly internalised a lot of that classic I Am A Sword stuff on top of everything (even though her mother is huge on free will and choice!), and is just really not well-equipped to handle any of this at all.
Next, this is the post-Lorroakan convo you get if you have both Aylin and Isobel in camp.
Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just regaling sweet Isobel with tales of our prowess. Isobel: Very impressive. Thank you for helping Aylin - that wizard sounded absolutely dastardly. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - she's not sure why Aylin isn't herself.] Player: My pleasure. He had it coming. Aylin: He did, and it came. Now, my friend: bask in your victory. I will do the same. Aylin: But fear not: when the time comes for you to face the foe of foes, Isobel and I will stand by your side. [Rallying her soldierly spirit, but still a little drained.] Isobel: We wouldn't miss it. Not for anything. Aylin: Go well, friend. We will see you soon. And with our great powers combined, this city will be saved. Player: Hopefully he'll be the last. Aylin: There are always more bastards behind bastards. But we will run through them all, each by each.
Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: I always do, with darling Isobel by my side. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of Lorroakan's death in your mind like silkfloss.
If Isobel isn't there (meaning she died in Act 2), you get this version:
Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just reviewing our fight against foul Lorroakan; your moves and mine. The victory was soundly won. Aylin: Don't you think? [Uncharacteristically, Aylin is seeking input. She's usually so confident about everything, but killing Lorroakan has not had the intended effect on her.] Player: Indeed I do. Let his demise serve as a warning to anyone else who'd seek you out. Aylin: Let him be the last. If my dear mother has any mercy, she will ensure it. [Trying to stay her usual self, but her mask is cracking a tiny bit here. Privately, Aylin is dealing with a great deal of anger toward her mother, the goddess Selûne, But she's not yet willing to face it. How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?]
Player: We fought well - though I was a little worried about you afterward, in truth. Aylin: Set your mind at ease, my friend. Dame Aylin is more well now than she has been this past century. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - it's true she's better now than she has been, but why does she feel so shitty, then? (She's in the beginning of reckoning with the trauma of what happened to her).]
Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: Yes. I wish for the very same. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of our prowess in your mind like silkfloss.
So, a few things pop out for me here. First, you get the more explicit anger at Selûne if Isobel isn't there, as opposed to the "hahah, I will smite all the bastards who dare come after me, no matter how many there are" line. "How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?" just... damn, hits hard, even if you subscribe to the theory that Selûne simply could not intervene in the Shadowfell imprisonment beyond sending those poor people whose graves you find in front of the mausoleum.
And here Aylin really lays it on thick with the denial that there's anything wrong at all. Combined with the letter you get from her in the epilogue if Isobel is dead, it just paints such a bleak, sad picture. I can just see her going all out on the Sword of Selûne duty-bound paladin side of things, no rest, no healing, no stopping even for a moment, no dealing with anything at all, from the trauma to the bitterness towards mum. Until whatever horrible breaking point comes, a year or a century from now. The need for Isobel's humanising influence is so clear. I've touched on Isobel's side of things here.
Speaking of having a bone to pick with Selûne, if you're playing as a cleric/paladin of Selûne, you can get some extra very honest dialogue with Isobel in Last Light:
Player: Why has the Moonmaiden waited until now to take an interest in this curse? Isobel: Maybe she was waiting for one of us to find this place ourselves. Free will, and all that.
Isobel: Though if it were my place to ask why she let Ketheric turn; why she allowed this village to rot at his hands - believe me, I would. [A cold edge in her voice]
Player: Are you faring all right? It can't be easy holding a lone candle in such darkness. Isobel: All things with her strength. You know the litany. [A little sarcastically. She's got a bone to pick with Selûne but isn't being too overt.]
Side note: the amount of devnotes for Isobel's lines that say she's delivering them "with swagger" and being "cheeky" makes me smile every time. Love her. Love her snark.
Also, to get it out of the way: no, I'm fairly sure Aylin did not break her oath. I see this brought up a ton and I just see no way for it to be the case. There is nothing to suggest this outside of a wording similarity and it just makes no sense. Girl is clearly some flavour of Oath of Vengeance (she uses Abjure Enemy, so this is the case even mechanically, even though she's obviously an NPC and not a standard player-build paladin) and she killed a very shitty guy who was also explicitly after her in godawful ways. You can do far worse things in the game than her dramatic speech and backbreaker and not break you OoV.
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deus-ex-mona · 17 days
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series i’m gatekeeping from my family vs series i’m ✨ok✨ with my family knowing i’m into:
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#‘why do you gatekeep hw from your irls?’ well. the thing is. i just ✨don’t want to✨#and. like. i’ve already led my family to believe that i bought bl manga when i was buying idol sengen at animate#so i think im already past the point of no return in that regard. so. um. yeah.#thank you village vanguard for the unexpected μ’s content in 2k24 you truly are yappa saikyou#i s w e a r falling back into my ll phase almost 10 whole years after i first got into it is unexpected tbh#compounded with the fact that i can now actually afford whatever im looking for. so. like. my wallet is in crisis lol#i had just reached my savings goal last month but now i’ve overspent bc i saw great deals on resold honoka-chan hoodies and i couldn’t help—#so now i have 2 identical hoodies lol. but i’ll keep one of them safe in its packaging bc im unwell like that ig#my merch whaling is out of control i s w e a r but my oshis are just too cute aaaaaaaaa#i probably should open another savings account instead… maybe that’d keep my spending under control…#b u t for now honoka-chan jersey im looking for you#tfw ur oshi is decently unpopular amongst the fans so hardly anyone resells her merch lmao#so ig the relatively fewer fellow fans she has are more dedicated to her than fans of other more popular characters lol#but at least her stuff (when resold) isn’t as overpriced as the actually popular members (birb and tomato)#so my wallet isn’t crying as hard as it could’ve been? ig? hunting for almost 10 year old merch is a pain fr though#either way. the grip idol series have on my wallet is truly insane#i wonder how many bags of chips i could’ve bought with the amount i’ve spent on hw and ll merch to date…#at least a thousand… i think. maybe even 2 thousand if my past gacha game whaling is taken into consideration…#…this is probably why it’s important to have a decent paying job ig.#oh well. at least i may be making b a n k this month with how much ot i’ve had to do this week so far…#i hope i won’t have to work till 5am again over the next 2 days… that had been a horrible experience.#help what am i even talking about anymore why am i having a life crisis right here and now u m.#anyways. dni if you dislike honoka-chan. thanks for coming to my crisis rant. see you when the last stage mv drops ig ok byeeeee
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pepprs · 2 years
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i like uh. literally cannot believe what is happening is still happening btw.pain and suffering (update omg i hit tag limit CRINGE but i think i was done anyway lol)
#purrs#ive felt sort of beholden to keeping it quiet on here bc i felt bad since it was still kinda a secret irl. but i think the word is#traveling fast irl so im giving myself permission to talk about it with my dearest belovedest mutuals some of whom are irl friends i have#ghosted for the last week and a half despite initially trying to set something up bc i have been so miserable over it that i can’t function#and for that i apologize and i swear to god i will get it together eventually. but ok. the thing that happened is that. lol i am crying#typing it bc how do i even say it. my supervisor who is also my mentor who is also dare i say my friend who is also my close colleague who i#is also the reason i even got to the place im in to begin with in so many ways… got a new job. and didn’t tell us she did and dropped it on#us last week. literally a week after i started my new job and i was so so so looking forward to getting to work closely with her in this new#way at last and um. that is not happening anymore. and it could be so much worse like thank GOD she didn’t *** or whatever which is#something i worry about literally constantly. but this hurts. it’s devastating and i feel betrayed even though im so happy for her and she d#deserves it so much. and im so fucking sad and do fucking scared bc there’s literally 3 of us now and we have to NOT PANIC and act like we#are processing this totally fine or else we will face Consequences which are the same reasons she’s leaving probably. lol. idk. it’s very#cringe to post about it and not vague and i know it’s like weird to be close to work and to your colleagues and whatever but it has never#been just work and it’s like. how can this person come into my life and utterly transform it and we go on this journey together and we JUST#reached this beautiful glorious pinnacle but then you leave?? and who knows how long she was planning to do this. lol. and despite how s#much i care abt her im the least close to her personally out of everyone on the team so i am suffering and withering and exploding and#sobbing and howling and barking and i want to talk to her so bad and tell her how much she means to me and that it is physically painful to#think about doing this without her bc she was supposed to like. help me and stuff bc she went thru baiscally the same path im on lol and we#have a lot in common in terms of identity / life situation and i was like ummmmm hi can you teach me how to be a fuller version of myself.#and this ks like such a wake up call that no *i* need to teach me that and no one can. but i don’t want that to mean losing her and im so#scared that she won’t be in my life anymore and i am going to miss her so much. im going to miss every little thing and it’s killing me and#i can’t stop crying about it and it feels like a fucked up nightmare and everything is different now and im temporarily secon in command who#which is like wtf no that’s YOU. come back. how could you leave. but she needed to i guess and i just didn’t know how bad. but it hurts ummm#lol. and if she knew how hard ive been losing my shit i think she would be angry and sad and like surprised bc i think she thinks im#normaler than i am now but it’s like god. there was so much to look forward to and i was already feeling weird about the future and now it’s#like the little parts of it i at least knew i could count on are totally gone because she’s leaving us for fucking ****** of all places LMAO#delete later#i know it’s like weird to vent abt irl stuff / ppl so candidly i know what it suggests about me but this is like my best possible coping#mechanism rn i guess or at least it feels the best bc ppl like the posts and you don’t even have to say anything it just lets me know that#like. im not insane for it iwguess. even though iwreally feel like it. idk. i just am going to miss her so much. i wish i could stop crying
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arthur-r · 1 year
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(vent cw sorry i ran out of room in the tags to say that. it’s illness-related anger as usual. content warning for medical everything)
im so fucking sick though. just in general
#and i am so tired of people acting like they know my experiences better than i do#stayed home from school today falling behind in everything couldn’t fcuking get out of bed and my dad said that yesterday my energy was up#so i’m obviously faking it today. like yeah yesterday i laid in bed for hours then came to your house and sat in a chair. saw me for 30min#you don’t get to tell me that yesterday i was feeling well because i fucking wasn’t and you have never noticed or cared#when i fucking passed out got a black eye from hitting my head on the way down. he didn’t fucking bat an eye#now i’m stuck awake because i have stomach pain and my heart has been pounding so loud for hours#and i’m trying to sleep and i need to make it to school tomorrow but i can’t#and i’ve been trying and i’ve been lying awake. and at this point i don’t know how to deal with this anymore#i get sick three times a month you’re supposed to be sick three times a year. this isn’t even counting days where i can’t stand#when i say i’m sick i mean i have sore throat congestion and sometimes fever. and it’s almost always a direct result of trying to live life#like i went to the mall thursday prom shopping. walked a few hours. woke up next morning sore throat runny nose couldnt focus on school from#all the pain in so many places and all of my regular symptoms just being escalated so badly. cant think can’t see cant stand#and that is messed up!!!! that is messed up!!!! and my mother tells me she finally agrees i need anxiety medicine#like hey thanks!! that’s helpful!! however!! why do you only endorse mental when it’s the only alternative to physical#why has my mom always denied viewing my anxiety as anything i shouldn’t just push aside. until it becomes a way to tell me that my physical#problems should also just be pushed aside. why is it so hard to get an audience with a doctor#ANYWAYS i have my stupid follow up appointment. this friday. i dont know how it’s gonna go down#i’m just going to tell the doctor how much it fucking sucks. i guess i’m going to ask for a referral to a neurology specialist in the cities#which will drive my family insane they don’t want to enter the cities to help me. but our clinic doesn’t have what i need#i might get the doctor to do a stress test on friday though if they can do that. but i want specific autonomic testing#and like yeah. i get that anxiety is in the autonomic system. part of fight flight freeze and what EVER i’m not trying to say it’s not!!!!#but does it occur to anyone that my heightened anxiety is one of several symptoms. rather than somehow being the cause#heart rate in panic attack sitting down is 120bpm. heart rate in normal brain walking down the hallway is 140bpm. it’s not my fucking brain#anyway i just need a doctor to actually fucking look at me. actually do the tests actually monitor. because it’s there if you look#but nobody cares enough to look and i just have to sit here falling behind in all my classes and not able to do my job that i love#and just wait for it to somehow get better when i’ve been like this as long as i can remember and maybe it’s worse now but it’s always been#there and everybody writes it off as me being lazy or not putting in enough work and maybe i would have been in sports as a kid if i could!!#people act like my fitness now is because of choices i made as a child but i have ALWAYS had worse reaction to exercise than my friends#and anyway i just. idk. sore throat and stuff is gone now but overall discomfort and disability is not. but i’m going to school cause i cant#keep missing it for health reasons just have to watch my heart go insane and do nothing. out of tags i’m sorry. i’m just so tired.
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
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JJK men with a big-chested reader
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Pairings: Nanami x reader; Geto x reader (nsfw); Yuji/Sukuna x reader; Gojo x reader
Word Count: 4,4k (she's big)
Warnings: THIS IS A FIC WITH A BIG-CHESTED READER! so if this triggers you, don't read it (especially in Sukuna's part, you might get triggered when having smaller boobs so just do me a favor and don't read it instead of leaving a sassy comment), boob play in Geto's part so nsfw, in general harassment but big old fluff from your faves, not proofread bc I have my final exam tomorrow - hope you enjoy! 🤍
Special thanks to one of my moots for letting me turn her cleavage into a cover for this fic - you look STUNNING + thank you to everyone who sent me their experiences for this!
Since I'm not big-chested myself, I'm calling all my big boobie girlies to leave me a lil review about this fic - it would literally help me so much 😭
Click here to get to the small-chested version
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Nanami Kento
You sigh to yourself, too exhausted to even stand up straight anymore. Today was like a trip to hell and back. All those fucking curses, the death, the horror. You rub your tired eyes, the stinging pain in your back reminding you more than urgently that you have been up for way too long.
“You look tired, darling. Go change and get into bed with me.”
Oh, that deep voice behind you, the voice you learned to love to the moon and back. How did it even happen that a man like Nanami Kento was seeking interest in you? What was it that made a man like him even look your way? You’ve known each other for quite some time, seeing each other on missions from time to time. But when you began to work at Jujutsu High, everything changed so fast that you couldn’t keep up. And now you’re sitting here in his bedroom, watching in awe as he crawls into bed with nothing but his boxer shorts on.
You would love to get out of your uniform right now, But most importantly, you urge to take off that soaking wet bra that has been bugging you since afternoon. You have no choice, though. With a large chest like yours, it simply isn’t possible to leave the house for missions without extra support. You glance at him while he reads in his book, your gaze falling to your chest.
This isn’t exclusively about missions and you know it. Even though you’ve been together for a few months now, you were never brave enough to show Kento your breasts. Not without a bra, let alone completely naked. Just the thought of him seeing how your big breasts fall down when they slip out of their bra shells, the look on his face when he realizes that you don’t look like those large-chested models with their boobs standing like mountains. Yours definitely don’t. And you fucking hate it.
“I know that look on your face. You are uncomfortable, aren’t you?”
His soft voice rips you out of your pondering immediately. Fuck, he caught you again.
“No…I mean…Yes, kinda…”
You can’t lie into his gorgeous face, not even when the truth makes you feel so uncomfortable. Oh, how much you wished you look the way he deserves it with delicious female curves that suit his flawless appearance. But as soon as you look down, you just know how awful your boobs will look when set free. So you’ll do what you do every night: wait until Kento is asleep to finally take off your bra only to set an alarm in the morning to get up before him and put it back on.
“I always wondered why you are waiting until I sleep to take off your bra and put it back on before my alarm goes off.”
You can’t help but stare at him, mind racing while your palms start to get sweaty. Fuck, how did he even notice? No, why did you ever think he wouldn’t? Kento cares about you like none other, never pushed you to take off your shirt, never failed to ask you how you’re feeling.
“Listen, darling.”
He gets off the bed and kneels down in front of the chair you are sitting on, gently taking your hand into his.
“I just want to make sure you feel comfortable around me. Am I the reason that you don’t want to take your bra off? I can see clearly how uncomfortable it makes you feel.”
“No!”, you blurt out immediately.
Calm down your tingling nerves, this is ridiculous. You stare blankly at your hands intertwined with his.
“I mean…It has nothing to do with you, it’s me.”
“How is this about you, love? There is no reason for you to feel uncomfort-“
“I’m afraid.”
You swallow hard. Are you oversharing? Will he laugh at you for something so ridiculous? But what if he sees you naked at some point, his gaze dropping to your chest only to be greeted by your large hanging chest? You can imagine the look of disgust on his face, how he turns away from you, how-
“Hey, look at me darling. Look at me and tell me what’s wrong”
He cups your cheek gently, forces your haunted eyes to look at him, to stare into his orbs filled with sincerity. There is no way out of this, you can’t lie into his gorgeous face.
“When I take my bra of my breasts just…hang. It’s even visible through my t-shirt…”, you mumble, cheeks redder than the devil.
Thick silence hangs between both of you, his gaze still as soft as before. What is going on inside his head? Is he secretly laughing at you, does he even care about what you have to say?
“Let me make a few things clear.”
He lifts himself off the ground and pulls you up. You squint your eyes, mind racing over why on earth he made you stand up. Is he going to leave, to laugh?
“First of all: I love you just the way you are. I love your gorgeous smile, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself. And I love your breasts-“
“You didn’t even see them yet.”
“I don’t have to in order to know that”, he continues.
“Nothing makes me sadder than seeing you uncomfortable each and every night before going to bed. Of course, I don’t know for sure, but I imagine it to be really painful after some time. Isn’t it digging into your skin?”
Oh, you think about the countless times the sweat underneath your bra made you almost go insane, the red streaks that visibly show where the wire cut into your skin all day.
“It kinda is…”, you confirm with low voice.
“Don’t do this to yourself. I adore you just the way you are and I am dying to see you laying comfortably in your t-shirt next to me. So please, would you allow me to take it off for you?”
Your eyes widen in pure shock. Is this a bad joke, is he just teasing you? No, this is Nanami Kento. And the way he gazes at you with nothing but affection gleaming in his eyes tells you that he’s telling the true, that this is what he wants right now. But are you ready to expose yourself like this? What if he’s still disgusted after saying all those nice words?
You let your head fall against his chest, breathe in his delicious scent. A voice deep inside you tells you to stop, to just relax inside his arms. This is the man who chose you out of all people, who stood by your side no matter what. Kento proved more than once that he loves you dearly, never made you feel the slightest bit bad about yourself.
“Go ahead…”, you mutter against his chest.
His hands wander up your back gently, make shivers run down your spine until he reaches the clasp of your bra. Your heart simply stops when he unclips it through the fabric of your shirt. You fade into darkness as soon as his hands wander up to your shoulders, slide down the thick straps and pull down your bra until he finally lands on the floor.
Slowly, he takes a step back and picks it off the ground.
“You will never have to wear this again when you are home with me, okay? Not when it makes you feel so uncomfortable”, he gently speaks out.
You stare in awe while he carefully places your big bra over the chair and returns in an instant to pull you close against his chest.
“Come on, let’s go to sleep.”
“Yeah”, you mumble, body slowly but surely getting flooded by warmth.
“Going to bed sounds good…”
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Geto Suguru
You feel hot but at the same time cold, turned on but at the same time scared. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. At this very moment, none other than Suguru Geto is laying on top of you, kissing you so passionately that you forget how to breathe.
What an overwhelming feeling it is to call him your boyfriend for a few months now. Such a kind and loving man, always looking out for you, giving you the time you needed for this to finally happen. You couldn’t believe your own ears when whimpering that you want him, that you are ready.
But are you really ready for showing him that part of your body? The part that began too grow way too early in your life, the part you’ve always got picked on by all the other girls.
“Look, there she is! She looks like a cow ready to milk!”
“That cleavage…She’s literally begging for it, what a bitch.”
“Ew, are those pimples on your tits?”
You know you are better than that, that your big breasts just belong to you and that you should love yourself just the way you are. But with none other than Suguru laying on top of you, his hands slowly but surely coming dangerously close to your breasts…
“Wait”, you breathe out, haunted eyes making Suguru stop in his tracks in an instant.
“Did I do something wrong? If you don’t want to, we don’t-“
“No, this is great. I- … I waited so long for this. But I just wanted to let you know that…”
You swallow hard. Are you acting ridiculous, destroying the moment with your behaviour? Suguru’s chocolate brown orbs don’t show a hint of annoyance. Instead, he gently strokes your hair while waiting for you to move on.
He deserves to know it
“I might not have the nicest boobs. They are big, but not well formed like the ones of those models. I tend to sweat a lot underneath them, my skin breaks out from time to time and my nipples might be-“
“Stop that right now, (y/n).”, Suguru gently interrupts you with a grin.
But it doesn’t look like the grin of the girls who picked on you for years. No, this grin is filled with warmth and loves, fills you with what feels like confidence. After all, he said that he loves you just the way you are over and over, right? Still, he didn’t even see your boobs. What if he changes his mind?
“There is absolutely nothing, and I mean NOTHING about you that isn’t ‘nice’. I don’t care about what the chest of random models looks like, to be honest I don’t care about anyone but you. And you are everything I want, you are everything I see, you are everything I love.”
His words make you tear up in an instant, send your whole body into space. As long as you can remember, no one ever said really nice things about your breasts and therefore you. You were either insulted or sexualized. But that force of a man on top of you…He just looks into your eyes that are filled with nothing but warmth. This man means every word he says.
“Well, that’s cool”, you mutter without even thinking about your words, lost in the sheer sight of his sincere eyes.
There is no one in the world you want to show your boobs more. Like in trance, you pull up the hem of your shirt and let it fall to the floor mindlessly.
“Are you okay with me touching them?”, he purrs against your ear.
A silent whimper escapes your lips while you simply nod, whole body on fire where it touches his. Painfully slow, he lets his hands wander down your hair onto your shoulders, trace the line of your collarbones until he reaches…
Your breasts.
What an unknown feeling. But oh, what a sensation as well. You arch your back out of instinct while he massages your breasts, the feeling of his fingertips against your still skin alone simply driving you insane.
God, who would have thought you’d ever hear Geto Suguru moan against your ear by just looking, touching, squeezing your boobs? His eyes are darkened by lust, the way his heart pounds against his ribcage echoes through your very own body.
“You look absolutely gorgeous. I can’t stop looking at you, (y/n).”
You feel like flying, fainting, losing your balance. There is no doubt in the fact that this man adores you the way you are, that your constant fear of him not liking your large chest was more than unfounded.
“So…you don’t mind the way my breasts look?”, you whimper underneath his bittersweet touch.
“More than that, I adore you”, he replies in an instant. “And now, let me see you in your full glory.”
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Yuji/Sukuna
You’re back feels like it might break every minute, shirt dripping in sweat in the sheer heat of the summer sun. You just want to get out of here, away from those disgusting people, back into your dorm. How stupid it was to leave Jujutsu High on your own for a little stroll through the city. Without the protection of Maki or Nobara, without any good friend who shields you from all the unwanted looks your large chest attracts. While most people think it must be a blessing, it definitely is a curse to you 80% of the time.
Just like right now.
“Come on, I just asked for one grab!”, a guy shouts after you.
Out of instinct, you pick up your pace, not even daring to turn around. What did you even do to catch his attention? You gaze down at your breasts that uncomfortably bounce up and down in the way too tight bra you are wearing today. No, you did absolutely nothing wrong. It’s just these disgusting people who seem to see nothing but the size of your chest.
“Why would you want to touch her? She looks like a cow”, the girl next to him comments along with an ugly laugh, making your heart sting in an instant.
“What a slut”, another voice mutters.
“Oh, I didn’t know you are out today! How are you, (y/n)?”
Your heart almost stops inside of your chest, hands beginning to tremble in an instant. No, not him. Not right here when these people are chasing you. If there’s someone you don’t want to hear those things about you, it’s Yuji Itadori.
“J-just…l-leave”, you stutter.
“Huh? But I just met you! Would you like to watch a movie with me?”
“Look, the cow brought her friends!”
“Do you think he’ll get in her pants today?”
“What a lucky bastard, I’d love to touch them just once…”
Yuji’s face drops in an instant when realizing their words are directed towards you.
“Hey, there’s no need to be rude”, he begins but gets stopped by uncontrollable laughter immediately.
You want to die right here on the spot, disappear from the surface of earth. As if being treated like this wasn’t enough, why does it have to be Yuji who witnesses it all?
“Step aside, loser. Let me handle that.”
Sukuna leans forward in his throne, thick anger rising inside of his chest. You, the one who caught his eye when he first saw you. You, with the immense powers. You, with a dangerous mind that could end wars. Who are these people to talk to you in this manner?
“Are you crazy? I definitely won’t let you out right now”, Yuji replies in an instant.
“You aren’t able to help her brat, now get lost!”
“I won’t let you-“
Enough.
“Now who exactly do you losers think you are, huh?”
That voice, that aura? Your mouth feels dry like the desert in an instant, eyes widen in pure shock. No, this is impossible, Yuji is in control over his body, this can’t be-
“With tits like yours, I would be jealous of someone gorgeous like her as well”, he spits at one of the girls following you.
“And you.”
With a swift motion, he grabs on of the guy’s wrists roughly. Just a little more pressure and it will snap.
“P-please. Don’t!”, you shout after him.
Urgh, why does your begging voice make his grip loosen in an instant, what is it about you that made him switch with this brat anyway?
“Were you really just trying to touch her chest? Thinking just because she has a big chest, you are allowed to touch her, to sexualize her, huh? You humans disgust me with your simple desires”, Sukuna continues.
“If it wasn’t for her unshakable character, I would kill every single one of you right on the spot. But for now-“
In the matter of seconds, all their arms hang in unhealthy directions, visibly broken by the sheer force of none other than Ryomen Sukuna.
You want to scream at him, want to run away, want to get away from this place. But on the other hand, a warmth fills your chest. Did the king of curses just stand up for you, protect you from their rude comments?
“Get going”, he barks at you.
“This was unnecessary”, you mumble.
“And give Yuji back.”
“You should be thankful, (y/n). They will worship you for the rest of your life.”
“No, they will be scared of you for the rest of their lives”, you clarify, hands still trembling.
“So what? Nobody gets away with insulting you over your perfect body. Especially not over the size of your chest. How ridiculous…”
You can’t believe your ears, eyes darting towards him in an instant while you turn redder than a tomato. Did he just say that you are…perfect?
“You didn’t mean that”, you breathe out.
“Oh god I’m so sorry (y/n). Did he hurt you?”, the familiar voice of Yuji cries out.
Calm down your tingling nerves, your pounding heart. Sukuna’s gone. Sukuna…stood up for you. Sukuna said you have a perfect body.
What?
“N-No”, you stumble.
How are you supposed to get over this?
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Gojo Satoru
Finally. You sit in front of the bar, excited by the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume that hangs in the air. After working your ass off for what felt like an eternity, you decided to use your day off right. You put on the dress that fits you best, packed your purse and went into the first bar you’ve seen.
Damn, when was the last time you were out on your own? With all your friends being out of town for vacation, this definitely is new.
“Not bad”, you mutter to yourself, eyes roaming around people making out, heartfelt laughter and a group of women sipping on their cocktails.
A cocktail, exactly what you need today.
“Hey, I’d love to order something”, you speak out when the waiter finally comes cross you.
What a lucky day, they even have your favourite cocktail in store. You’re usually not the type of girl to go out on yourself, but these last months, you truly learnt how enjoyable time can be with yourself as your only company. You smile to yourself. Yeah, this is definitely something you could get used to.
“There you go”, the friendly male announces and places the glass filled with joy in front of your hungry eyes.
You gift him the sweetest smile you have before taking a sip. Oh, this tastes absolutely amazing.
“I’ve never seen a woman like you alone in a place like this.”
Your heart drops to the floor in an instant, hands holding onto your glass tightly. Ew, a man is certainly the last thing you want to hear right now with the bartender being the only exception. Instead of even looking his way, you just take another sip of your well-mixed cocktail, the music blasting out of the boxes might make him think you can’t hear him and leave.
Honestly, there aren’t many things that creep you out more than men approaching you. Since you’ve reached puberty and your breasts starting to grow bigger and bigger, it almost felt as if you weren’t a person anymore. With rare exceptions here and there, most of them only talked to you because of one thing:
Your boobs.
Is the man sitting next to you one of them?
“Hey, I’m talking to you, gorgeous.”
Your whole body tenses up in an instant, eyes darting towards him by the sound of his harsh voice.
“Excuse me, I’m not up for a talk”, you bite back.
While you did meet genuinely nice men and have some male friends, the one sitting next to you certainly is one of the other categories. God, how much you hate it, being looked down at and reduced to the size of your breasts. You can’t even count how many times you’ve got commented on them, how many men and women just shamelessly stared at your bust instead of your face while talking to you. It’s safe to say you have enough of all of this.
“A woman who presents what she has like that is up for a talk and far more than that. Why would you come here dressed like a slut if you don’t want me to talk to you?”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat, all thoughts vanish into thick air. This disgusting guy with his beard filled with crumbs and breath stinking like the cheapest beer is definitely up for no good. You, dressed like a slut? You wear a basic black dress, the only one your boobs didn’t fall out when trying it on. What the hell is this creep talking about?
“Just because my boobs are big doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Watch how you talk to me”, you bite back.
“I talk however I want to a bitch like you. Are you up to go somewhere more…private?”
The scene that lays itself out in front of Gojo’s eyes is hard to bear. He doesn’t even know the woman in the black dress sitting in front of the bar, let alone the guy sitting next to her. But just one look into your disgusted face is enough to know that something isn’t right. How you cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes filled with horror, the way you scoop backwards with every word this man says. Are you okay? He shouldn’t let other people’s business bother him. Fuck, wasn’t he here to get his mind off saving everyone all the time? Nah, he should enjoy his evening, drink that new whiskey they offer, just relax and-
You aren’t even able to comprehend what is happening next to you. He stretches out his hand, ready to touch your breasts without consent when another pair of hands stops him mid-air.
“I think the lady said no. Don’t ya think it’s a little over the top to go into a bar and touch a woman’s boobs?”
His voice might sound playful, but your blood freezes inside of your veins by the power he radiates. Just one glance into his face tells you he is like no men you’ve ever met.
“I…She…She said she wanted it to!”, the crumble beard tries to defend himself.
“I said what? Are you out of your fucking mind!? I told you to leave me alone and you harassed me!”, you clarify in harsh tone.
Oh, how much you’d love to break his nose right now, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the white-haired man seems to have the same plans.
“A guy like you wouldn’t end up with her anyway. That lady has class. And you, my friend, are just a disgusting pervert. Are you touching other women too without consent? Isn’t your first time, huh?”
With a swift motion, he begins to twist the man’s hand around itself. He whines out in pain in an instant, face twisted just like yours before when he talked you down.
“Let me go!”, he cries out in visible discomfort.
“This is what you get for treating a lady so badly. You can be glad she even looked your way.”
When he gifts you a sly grin, you can’t help but blush. What is it about this man that feels so different, so damn inviting? He seems like no other men you’ve met before. And the fact that he just called you lady…Why do your knees suddenly feel weak?
“Now repeat after me: I.am.sorry.for.disrespecting.you.”
“I will not apologize to a girl who’s dressed like a slut!”
A loud crack makes the already muted room go completely silent, the violent scream coming out of this man’s mouth when his wrist breaks like spaghetti echoing through the room.
“Wrong answer”, the white-haired man purrs.
“Hey, would you mind just taking the trash out?”, the barkeeper questions.
“Did you hear that, dirty boy? Let me show you the way!”
“Are you alright? I didn’t even notice he was harassing you. I’m so sorry”, the bartender speaks out towards you.
“Oh, it’s okay.”
You aren’t even able to give him a real answer, eyes glued on the white-haired man who carries your harasser out like trash.
Like in trance you get back on your feet and follow him out into the cool air of the night.
“Have a nice evening!”, he friendly shouts after the man who sprints down the streets like a coward, as fast away as possible.
“You definitely scared the shit out of him”, you comment.
“He definitely deserved it. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m used to shit like that”, you reply with a huff.
“But normally, they aren’t this disgusting.”
“I hate to hear that. You seem like a genuinely badass and nice person. You didn’t deserve his words.”
“Not as nice as my knight in shining armour who stopped him from touching my boobs.”
He lets out a heartfelt laughter, bright blue orbs set on you.
“Hey, what about me escorting you back home? I’m totally in the mood to beat up any other men who gets in your way.”
“Only if you let me join, though”, you challenge him.
“Definitely a deal. Hey, what’s your name?”
“(y/n)”
“(y/n), huh? Cool name, suits you right? My name’s Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet you.”
He stretches out his hand in front of you, inviting you to take it. You can’t help but smile at his sheer excitement. No, you just have to take his warm hand into yours and shake it.
“Let’s get you home, okay?”
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Dividers by @saradika 🤍
1K notes · View notes
flowercrowngods · 3 months
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who did this to you. part 3
🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!
The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now. 
Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.
Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard. 
The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work. 
“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“ 
“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone. 
Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened? 
“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it. 
He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)
“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”
“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?” 
No. “Thanks.” 
The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening. 
He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she— 
“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees. 
He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again. 
“Hi.” 
“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“ 
“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.” 
That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe. 
The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again. 
“What about Steve.” 
Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth. 
“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.” 
“He… He’s hurt.” 
There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.” 
“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“ 
“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.” 
Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her. 
“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it. 
One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall. 
Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled. 
It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he— 
He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine. 
People don’t just die. 
They don’t. 
He’s fine. 
Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.
Eddie can relate.
Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression. 
Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this. 
It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently. 
And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue. 
But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time. 
He needs a smoke. 
He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life. 
But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes. 
It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles. 
“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him. 
Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him. 
She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt. 
I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.
But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit. 
But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or— 
“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today. 
“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate. 
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. 
“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.” 
And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while. 
She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.
He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?
But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie. 
That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 
“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.” 
There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug. 
“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it. 
But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself. 
“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t? 
So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs. 
“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off. 
Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?” 
It’s stupid. Don’t say it. 
“Eddie?” 
With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”
Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out. 
He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues. 
“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state. 
“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing. 
Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year. 
She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three? 
It seems surreal. Everything, everything does. 
Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues. 
Her favourite colour. Her favourite person. 
It’s so fucking surreal. 
He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead. 
And silence reigns. 
“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.” 
There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped. 
Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues. 
“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”
“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.” 
Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat. 
“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.” 
Tell me about your favourite person. 
Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into. 
And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”
She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her. 
“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.” 
There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication. 
“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?” 
Sniffling, Robin shakes her head. 
“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.” 
He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin. 
“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…” 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now. 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does. 
There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there. 
He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now. 
There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him. 
And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then. 
So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare. 
It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve. 
“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring. 
What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next. 
“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.” 
What?
Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.
“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.” 
That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean? 
“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.” 
And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse. 
Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley. 
Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth. 
And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley. 
It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing. 
“Why’d you call me?” 
It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson. 
He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips. 
“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”
Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.” 
She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession. 
“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?” 
Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow. 
“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?” 
And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue. 
Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers. 
“What, the ice cream parlour?” 
Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…” 
She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses. 
Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened. 
“He saved your life?” 
Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation. 
“In the fire? Were you there?” 
“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.” 
Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again. 
“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters. 
“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?” 
“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.” 
“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.” 
It is, isn’t it? 
You’re so blue, Stevie. 
She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.
Blue. ‘S nice. 
Yeah. Yeah, he is. 
Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look. 
Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago. 
He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around. 
Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around. 
And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait. 
The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence. 
“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?” 
“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.” 
🤍🌷 tagging:
@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
Text
Can you feel my heart breaking? Part two
Pairing: Azriel x reader 
Plot: five months after Azriel discoveres you are his mate, the night court pays the day court a visit. What happens when Azriel discovers another male is making his intentions known that he wants to court you?
A/n I’m contemplating writing a part three (including smut) let me know if you guys are interested in it.
Part One
Acotar Masterlist
Send in Requests
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It took everyone in the inner circle to physically stop Azriel from going after you when you left for the day court. After revealing that you already knew Azriel was your mate, Rhysand explained that you asked for some space. Azriel listened in horror as Rhysand detailed what you endured for the past year and a half. He couldn’t believe you bottled up all the pain you felt while you watched him love someone else.
Poor Elain started apologizing for being part of the reason you left and swore nothing ever happened between her and Azriel. Rhysand reassured her that you held no ill will towards her and you left to clear your head but that you would be back in a few months.
Rhysand begged Azriel to give you space while you process your emotions. “Rhys, please. I need to see her. I need to tell her that I know that I am her mate and that I want this mating bond.”
“No,” Rhysand said firmly: “You are also prohibited from traveling to the day court until she lets me know she’s ready”.
Azriel didn’t give up though, he sent out his spies into the day court and they gave him updates on your well-being. Every night they would report the same thing: you were fine, you were safe, and you were still staying with Helion despite your family living nearby. Over time, they would report that you were smiling more and having pleasant conversations with the people around the villages you would visit.
That brought a smile to the spymaster's face. He remembered how kind you were to everyone who crossed your path; even towards people who didn’t deserve your kindness.
One day though, one of Azriel’s spies informed him that there was a new general in the day court who had taken a liking towards you. They informed Azriel that this new general is actively seeking you out and gifting you small presents to win you over.
Panic started to take over Azriel’s body at the news. It never crossed his mind that someone else would try to court you while you were away. 
Azriel pleaded with Rhysand to visit the day court so he could see you. He told him what his spies had informed him and he was worried you might accept a courtship. Rhysand wanted to respect your wishes but he couldn’t bear to see his brother's desperate state anymore “ok, ok I’ll contact Helion and request if we can visit. But let me make one thing clear” Rhysand warned “You better hope whatever you have plan works out. I need y/n back home with us”.
Helion accepts Rhysand’s requests and extends an invitation to Rhysand and his inner circle to stay with him.
Azriel was on edge when they finally arrived at the day court and waited for you to come down and greet them. While they waited for you, Helion thanked Rhysand for sending you to him because in his words “you brought so much happiness to him and his people”.
Rhysand responded with “That’s why we love her so much. She’s like our own personal ball of sunshine. I don’t know what we would do without her.”
“You would survive” you teased and caught everyone’s attention “but it’s nice to know I make that much of an impact on you guys”.
Time seemed to stop for Azriel as he watched you make your way downstairs. That was until the unnamed general appeared by your side and whispered something in your ear. 
Jealousy surged through Azriel as he watched you playfully roll your eyes and giggle at whatever the general had said. “Control your anger,” Rhysand warned: “Do not jeopardize our alliance with the day court over his comments. Y/n has no interests in the general”.
Right at that moment you looked over at Azriel and sent him a concerning look. You were about to ask if something was wrong when Helion announced that it was time for dinner and guided everyone into the dining area.
Throughout dinner, Azriel couldn’t help but glance over at you. A smile appeared on his face as he took in your beauty. He couldn’t believe he completely overlooked you and was pining after the wrong female. He wanted to desperately tell you in front of everyone, especially in front of the general that had also been eye fucking you throughout dinner that he knew you were his mate.
He didn’t though. He knew it would be foolish to announce it in front of everyone and probably cause you to be embarrassed. He needed to do it when you were alone. 
Fortunately for him, that opportunity came sooner than he thought. “I’ll be right back, I need to use the washroom” you excused yourself and left the table. Azriel took the opportunity and excused himself as well before trailing after you.
Azriel patiently waited outside for you. His shadows went wild with excitement when you finally exited and quickly darted towards you. “Oh hello,” you squealed at the shadows running up and down your body.
“They missed you” Azriel explained and got your attention.
“Azriel” you whispered “what are you doing here? Why aren’t you eating with everyone else?”
“I needed to talk to you in private” Azriel replied and started making you feel nervous about what he might want to talk about. “Why didn’t you tell me you were my mate?” Azriel asked with desperation in his hazel eyes.
The question took you by surprise but you decided to answer it honestly: “Because you were in love with Elain,” you replied: “You were so in love that you questioned the cauldron's decision to make Lucien Elain's mate.” Azriel felt his heart stop at your explanation. He didn’t know that anyone heard his argument with Rhysand months ago about him thinking the cauldron made a mistake. “I thought if you found out I was your mate you would think the cauldron definitely made a mistake and that I was intended to be with Lucien and you with Elain. I just want you to be happy and if that means being with Elain then you have my blessing. But if you do proceed with courting her, I will be permanently moving to the day court.” You tried your hardest not to cry before continuing: “I can’t bear to be under the same roof when it happens”.
Sadness rippled through the bond and Azriel hated the fact that he was the reason behind it. “I don’t want Elain; I want you” Azriel pleaded. “I can’t live another second without you by my side.”
“It’s just the mating bond” you replied “It’ll fade away over time.”
“No it won’t” Azriel got closer and cupped your face “Do you need me to get on my knees for you? I’ll drop this instant if it means you forgive my actions. Listen, you don’t have to accept the mating bond right now if you don’t want to, but please allow me to show you how much I love you.”
Every part of you wanted to say no, you just got in a good place mentally and you didn’t want to have it destroyed again. Another part of you felt the desperation through the bond and wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around Azriel. Letting out a shaky breath, you whispered: “Please don’t break my heart.”
Azriel took that as an invitation to lean in and kiss you. You felt yourself become one with Azriel as he deepened the kiss and started moving his hands up and down your body: “I’ll guard it with my life” Azriel replied; his lips hovering over your own “Thank you for trusting me with it”.
Just as Azriel was about to slip his hands under your dress, a loud cough caused you to pull away. Azriel looked over his shoulder and spotted the general glaring at the two of you: “My high lord is wondering if you will be joining us for dessert or are you two going to fuck instead.”
“Tell Helion that we will not be joining you guys,” you replied before looking up at Azriel: “Tell him that my mate and I are going to be in my room for the rest of the night.”
Azriel gave the general a wicked grin at your response before being pulled upstairs to your room. 
@willowpains
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rosepascal · 2 months
Note
💌 Hi, here's my request for the Pedro Pascal character Valentines.
I'd pick Joel and my prompt would be “You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.” I'd love it to be angsty but with some fluff in the end. I don't mind at all if you feel inspired and include some smut though.
Thank you <3
ugh yes i love angst to fluff sm
a/n: Happy Valentines Day everyone!! I didn't include smut but I really like the way this turned out. Thank you for participating and I hope you like it <33
summary: Joel miller asks you to dinner but when the time comes he doesn't show.
warnings: angst to fluff, Joel is stupid but he makes up for it, stood up for dinner, swearing.
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You really didn’t understand Joel. You’ve tried. You’ve really tried. He was scary when he arrived in Jackson. He rarely smiled, barely talked to anyone, and kept to himself in his house.
The only times you ever really saw him was when he was being forced out of the house by Tommy or Ellie. Safe to say you never expected to befriend him.
Let alone even speak to him.
But then you got moved to his patrol when someone was out sick. You showed up bright and early and nervous as hell. One thing you did know about Joel is he was one hell of a shot. Rumor had it he took out a whole clan of raiders without even blinking.
As expected he was a silent leader and had no tolerance for bullshit. But he wasn’t an asshole. He held a certain level of respect for everyone on the patrol unless they did something stupid.
It didn't hurt he was handsome as hell too. You might have focused a little too much on the way his hands gripped his rifle.
You didn't interact much with him until he watched you blow the head right off a clicker with excellent skill and for the first time you acknowledged you with a nod. Those turned into acknowledgment around town. A smaller conversation here or there. You even ate dinner with him and Ellie once. Sure Ellie was the one to drag you over but he didn't complain.
When the person you were covering for came back to patrol you came to accept that you wouldn't see him much anymore. Until you saw your name next to his on the patrol sheet. He picked you as his partner. At first you were shocked. He almost never picked anyone else but Tommy.
With every patrol you got him to open up a little more. He built this strong walls over the last 20 years. He barricaded his heart, his feelings. Everything to protect himself from feeling pain again. But slowly you chipped away at it.
You weren't the only one either.
Ellie did most of the work if you’re being honest. She was the one to prove to him that his heart still worked. That he wasn’t as broken as he thought he was. You just came in to give that final push.
“So, Valentines day.” You say casually. Usually such a trivial holiday doesn't matter after the outbreak but the towns been putting up decorations, maybe to bring back some normalcy.
"What about it?" Joel asks seemingly uninterested.
"Hm, guess you weren't the romantic type Miller." You tease. He raises an eyebrow at you, before he would never humor you but this time he smiles.
"I'll have you know I was very romantic. Planned dates and shit all the time." You would've liked to see that. He was probably quite handsome. You say that like he isn't handsome how.
"I don't believe you." Joel rolls his eyes playfully.
"Yeah? I'll prove it." You scoff and shake your head. You slowly approach the town as the conversation dwindles. As you hang up your guns and sign the patrol book Joel waits for you by the door.
"Let's go to dinner tonight. I can show you just how romantic I am then." Your eyes nearly burst out of your skull. Joel Miller asking you on a date?? Are you dreaming?
"I-uh, Okay, show me what you got." He tilts his head down and heads off without another word.
You could barely contain your excitement as you hurried home. You didn't have the fancy clothes you used to have anymore but you had a few things that were saved for special occasions. Time couldn't move fast enough as you waited for dinner time to come.
To think Joel Miller would ever ask you on a date seemed too good to be true, and as you're sitting in the mess hall waiting for him to show up, it might be true. You didn't want to seem too eager so you came a little late than typical dinner time.
You sit and wait. Every time the doors opened your head perked up, waiting for his face to appear. But as people started to leave and the sky grew darker your hope diminished.
At first you're sad, how could you think that he was really interested. Then the sadness turned to anger, embarrassment. He asked you. He got your hopes up and then stomped on them. Was it a joke?
Either way you were pissed off. Storming out of the cafeteria you march to his house, banging on his door.
"Joel!" You yell. The door swings open and instead of Joel you see Ellie.
"Where's Joel?" You ask as calmly as you can. You're mad at him, not Ellie.
"Isn't he with you? He left like, three hours ago."
"What?" You ask almost not believing her. "He never showed up. I sat there for hours." Ellie's face turns to anger.
"That fucking dick. If I see him I'll shoot him for you." She offers. The anger dissipates slowly, replaced by sadness again.
"Thanks for the offer but don't shoot anyone." She shrugs, "Alright but I will if you want." You laugh a little and shake your head.
"Goodnight Ellie," She shuts the door and you're left alone.
Trudging back to your house you let the sadness take over. Fuck Valentines day and fuck Joel. As you approach your house you see a figure sitting on the steps of your house. Speak of the devil. Walking up to him you cross your arms and glare.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Joel stands up, an apologetic look on his face. "You left me sitting there like an idiot." Joel sighs and wrings his hands together.
"M'sorry, really I didn't mean to ditch you."
"But you did. So if you excuse me I'm going inside and drinking the wine I saved." You try and push past him but he grabs your waist gently.
"Please, just hear me out darlin'" he pleads. Reluctantly you uncross your arms and let him speak.
"I'm sorry for not showin' up. I was ready. Even tried putting product in my hair and picked you a flower." He admits, cheesy yes but he wanted to show you he was a romance kind of guy.
"Then I got there and I saw you and I just...I got scared." Joel continues. "You looked so perfect. I haven't done this in a long time and the moment I saw you there it felt too real."
He's out of his depth. He knows it too. Who the hell was he to try and put himself out there again. Especially with someone as perfect as you.
"Being with you, I haven't felt like this in a long time." He takes a step closer to you, cupping your face as he it in under the moonlight.
"You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe and it's terrifying." You gasp softly. His eyes shine with determination to prove he's stopped running. His hand feels so soft against your skin.
"Joel..I've been in love with you ever since that first patrol." You confess, hoping it would help ease the tension.
"I hope it ain't too late but," He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a slightly crushed rose.
"Will you be my Valentine?" You take the flower and spin it between your fingers. It's beautiful, grown right from the flowers outside of his house.
"I would love to be your Valentine." Leaning in you kiss his cheek softly.
Joel looks surprised for a moment before he softly grabs your chin and kisses you. Your whole body relaxes as his lips meld with yours. Damn he's good at this. When you part you frown slightly, already missing his lips.
"I really am sorry for ruining dinner," Joel apologizes again.
"The day isn't over yet and I still got that bottle of wine." You draw out the last word, silently suggesting he stays for a drink and maybe more. Joel smirks and places a hand on your back, rubbing his thumb gently. He leans close and whispers in your ear.
"Lead the way darlin'"
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cannellee · 1 month
Text
TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE (mythological au! #2) ☆
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୨୧ medusa! alpha! tokyo rev x blind! omega! reader (pairing : chifuyu, mikey, mitsuya, baji, izana)
— you meet medusa, whose stare can turn people into statues of rock. but you're actually blind so it doesn't affect you! what are their reactions?
cw : yandere!izana, baji is sweet++ and probably not representative, SA (mitsuya's one, it's not him though), deaths
(they don't have snakes hair, just the curse) + (it's sooo badly written pls don't mind the quality) + (baji's one is criminally short even though it has sm potential sorryy)
my masterlist : ☆
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ALPHA! CHIFUYU (love at first sight)
you really simply wanted to pick berries for the pie you planned to cook this afternoon. you would call for your friend to come with you as it's so much more amusing when you're not on your own, but she couldn't today.
still, you went to your usual spot, experienced feet strolling along the path you grew to recognise by heart. you bent down, gathered a few fruits and other sweet things while searching deeper into the forest until you heard the soft sound of water dripping down.
you walked closer, senses alert and nose breathing in the fresh air around you. once the lapping of the gentle waves hugged your ankles, you put away your basket and sat down on a rock you found while navigating through your surroundings.
you let the sun hit your skin and sooth your worries away, calmly closing your eyes.
when chifuyu was alerted that someone had crossed his territory thanks to the mouths of the tiny magical beings he took under his protection, he promptly made his way to you.
chifuyu valued his space, but most and foremost, he hated humans. he hated the way they would cower under his gaze, how they pleaded for their lives and tried to harm him any chance they had.
if his life was to be painful and lonely, he at least wanted some peace. foolish people who wandered into his forest didn't know their fate, or at least took it too lightly.
he first heard soft hums, and the unnatural splash of water you made with your feet immersed in the lake.
chifuyu was prepared to scare you into running away, to growl and yell at how impudent you had been for trespassing.
but upon witnessing your small frame and catching a taste of your sweet scent, chifuyu wasn't so sure anymore of what he had to do. although he was a huge hater of humans, hurting another soul bothered him. you looked harmless and defenceless, definitely not a threat.
you most likely lost your way, chifuyu thought. he expected a hunter or something among the lines, some gross alpha who came here to bring harm to the sacred place that was the forest.
but a peaceful omega like you surely would just go back to were she came from without any trouble. he sighed and turned around, already ready to leave. that was until his foot walked on a branche, making a loud "crack" sound for the both of you to hear.
"who's there ?", chifuyu hurriedly turned his head the other way, suddenly conscious about his eyes and what they could bring to you.
"you're alone and lost. you shouldn't be there", you laugh a bit at the man's answer, not feeling threatened one bit.
"how would you know whether I'm lost or not ?", he frowned when you kept your eyes shut, never sparing him a glance. when he didn't answer, you invited him to join your side.
"I can safely say you wouldn't want me to sit next to you if you knew who I am"
"you would've already hurt me if that was your intention. as you said, I'm alone", chifuyu eyed you up carefully before taking up on your offer, smelling the fresh berries you tempted him with.
"are you always this reckless that you would invite an alpha you don't even know to chat with you ?", he quickly took his place beside you, eyes locked on the floor and hands already digging inside the basket you put between the two of you.
you simply shrug, finally opening your eyes and turning your head his way before he could even react.
"I'm y/n", he looked in your eyes before realising and felt his heart drop upon doing so, fearing you would change into a statue in front of him.
but you didn't. your delicate scent he tried to ignore kept making him light-headed and feeling calm, your smile didn't freeze and only grew wider in a sweet way he found particularly cute.
he took his time scanning your features. a real flesh and blood person's face was looking at him. well not exactly, chifuyu now understood why you had seem so fearless despite aventuring yourself in a forest known for inhabiting a dangerous monster.
he couldn't recall the last time he looked at someone so intimately, without the disgusting feeling he had the first times he realised he no longer belonged with other humans. he didn't remember when he had the opportunity to admire such a pretty face like yours, without immediately changing them into marble.
chifuyu was deeply looking into your eyes and no parts of your body turned hard and grey.
he felt normal again as he introduced himself as well, his eyes never leaving your face, paying attention to the smallest details of your expressions, the way your eyes looked around and reacted to the sound of his voice.
you didn't fear him, you didn't beg him to spare your life and never once did you turn your head away from him, refusing to look at him as if he was the most horrendous thing in the world.
chifuyu didn't want to tear his gaze away from you, not even for a second. for the first time in years, he had someone he genuinely enjoyed being with, with no other emotions inhabiting hin than calmness, anticipation and a merry scent circling around the both of you.
he didn't believe someone he met a few minutes prior could make him have so much hope for the future, and such a growing urge to stay near you, the only one who would never ostracise him.
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ALPHA! MIKEY (a sacrifice for the prophecy)
you were beyond scared shitless, tears running down your trembling jaw. you clutched your white gown in the biting cold, slowly walking up the hill with dreadful steps.
you relied on the men escorting you for guidance, eyes covered with a silky material which would have prevented you from seeing anything if it wasn't for your blind eyes.
they told you you were doing this for the greater good, to save another innocent and indefective soul from perishing to the hands of the beast who pressured your tiny village to send him a person each year. what their fate turned out to be was a mystery, but it was evident that it wasn't anything good as none of them ever returned.
the tradition was old from centuries ago, your ancestors carefully choosing a bride to send up the hill you were currently on. they never missed a year, scared of the wrath of the monster.
they did try rebelling some hundred years ago, refusing to send another one of their comrade to their fateful death. after this day, they never once disrespected the wish of the beast as they coldly remembered the terrified looks of the thousands of teenagers who were turned to stone in a single night. frozen by the gaze of the man they now obeyed without a fault.
after this came a prophecy ; upon hearing the sad news, an oracle visited them to deliver the truth from the gods above. they listened attentively as the woman spoke, affirming that they were to perpetrate the ritual if they wanted to keep their people alive, until someone with a similar curse came into this world. only then, will the circle of atrocities come to an end.
today was your turn, no reasons were given to you as you marched, the lack of familiar surroundings was enough to put you into such a distress state you didn't know what to do with yourself.
"we'll leave you here. enter the cave, you'll find your way if you follow the walls." they pushed you forward, promptly leaving you here after threatening you to keep going. you had no choice but to do so, unable to decipher where you even came from, the walk was long and tiring, you knew you wouldn't make it back.
so you followed the path, fingers running on the wet and rocky walls, silence engulfing you totally with only the soft sound of your footsteps around. the floor was soft though, almost inviting and comfortable and you soon understood you arrived to your destination.
your heartbeats accelerated, scared and disoriented when a new scent hit your nose, yours emitting a stressed one.
"an omega ? they usually keep them to themselves" you jumped at the foreign mumbling voice, deep and low. you said nothing and kept your right hand on the wall, for a semblance of control of your surroundings.
"it's not like I care anyways. you can keep the blindfold, I'll guide you to the garden" and with that, a cold hand grasped your shoulder, forcing you away from the wall which kept you steady.
you whimpered at the sudden touch, musky scent invading your privacy. he dragged you gently to an open area, you could tell it was with the way the wind caressed your skin and the shivers it sent you.
"stay here. you'll look perfect with the others. I never had such a pretty one being sent my way", his breathe fanned over your ear, you felt his face dangerously close to yours and you kept wondering how the beast could actually be an alpha and not some faceless furry thing, instead he smelled and seemed just like any villagers you met.
you were scared. you felt small and defenceless. but you remained there, unmoving and ready to undergo any treatment. what would a blind omega like you could even do against the terrible beast you've heard countless of atrocious stories about ?
"it'll be over quickly. just don't move", and with that, you felt his big hands leave your arms and instead reaching behind your head for the neat knot the other betas women of the village had done while preparing you.
your nails dug into your flesh and left red marks, you hoped nothing of it hurt. you knew you would be changed into a statue and you hoped it was as painless as he told you. you trusted his words, despite him being the one inflicting such a deplorable fate.
the blindfold fell off your face and you opened your eyes in a blink, looking up despite not seeing anything.
and he looked at you, right into your eyes, shocked and confused. "you're blind ?", he asked you with a voice void of any confidence he had earlier, it came in a whisper, almost as a vulnerable affirmation more than a true question.
you nodded, unsure of what was happening. "my curse only works if you can look at me in the eyes. but you're blind.", he repeated, as if trying to convince himself it was real, that you were real.
the man drops the blindfold to his feet, looking at your face, your eyes, impressed by how much cuter you looked when he could see your whole face.
"you're... I can't turn you into a statue then"
"what will you do then ? if the ritual doesn't work they'll have to send someone else ? are you going to hurt my people ?", your stressed out scent hit him in the gut ; he didn't want to make you feel distressed.
"don't worry about anything at all. this place is perfect. nobody will be coming here anymore, you can relax"
he was enjoying the pleasure of finding someone resistant to his curse, surely you weren't leaving at all. you were his new companion.
you're right, he hadn't felt a human touch in so long, but that's exactly why he will be extra careful with you. even after centuries he still knows how soft and fragile omegas are, he'll take great care of you. it'll be just the two of you and mikey's undefeated power. you're the only one immune, he'll scare people away like he always did, turn them into statues without even lifting a finger, keeping you in his arms while he only has to lift his gaze to erase the threat.
and he'll also get rid of all of the old statues in the garden! it's your garden now, so there's no need for such frightening decorations...
mikey is so ecstatic, he didn't feel such bliss in a while. he's already anticipating all the things you're both going to do together !
but despite his excitement, mikey still is an alpha born in such old times, so he's old-fashioned : he loves you, provides for you and protects you, and as such, he doesn't tolerate outbursts from you. he likes respect. he's an alpha, so you need to listen to him. he's doing that for the both of you! just keep making happy and he'll keep you away from those terrible people you call your family, who deliberately sent you here, even while knowing what would become of you...
but regardless, he's just so happy to be cured from his usual loneliness that he unknowingly becomes more and more lenient, accepting anything from his new omega. you're such a joy to his normally gloomy and silent day. keep talking to him, keep asking him to show you around, he loves it.
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ALPHA! MITSUYA (a strange saviour)
you cursed yourself under your breath for being such a dumb person while gripping tighter a wicker basket filled to the brim with freshly picked flowers.
they only bloomed at night during the full moon and they just smelled so good you couldn't help yourself from going out once a month to snatch them from the tricky path where they grew.
it was risky and dangerous, not only because you were aventuring yourself in such a desolated area, but also because your sweet aroma seemed to get even softer the longer you walked to your house.
you hurried along, feet stumbling through the hard floor and occasional rocks all because of your precipitation. distinct voices and irregular steps were following you close behind, getting closer with each times you missed a step while scurrying down the stairs and met with a wall you didn't remember was there.
"y/n ! hurry and get your ass back there, you know I don't like chasing a blind omega around, just come here and stop making things harder for the both of us !", you shivered from the strong authoritative voice, calling you back in an annoyed growled while his friends snickered by his sides, enjoying way too much this little tantrum you were pulling.
your tears came running down your face, feeling so helpless with how little you knew your way and how merciless you knew your fiancé would be once he got his hands on you.
you never agreed to such proposal, but you came from a poor family and they were just too desperate to marry off their defective daughter. you were handed off to a same-age alpha, a spoiled idiot who liked to torment you even though you weren't still officially his wife.
if you knew you would've met him during your outing, you would've kept your basket neatly away in a closet and sat down near the fireplace.
when he caught you walking all alone at night, the alcohol in his brain and lack of respect for your dignity led him to a pervet shout your way.
he said he simply wanted to introduce you to his friends but with the way they were all looking at you was enough to tell you otherwise. so you ran, not sure where you were heading to.
in a second, you stopped abruptly in your tracks, a forceful hand grasping your arm and pushing you to the wall before you could even react. the force was such you felt light-headed, and the horny scents of the little pack of alphas made you nearly gag.
you pleaded and cried for him not to touch you, both being the only thing you could do. "oh come on, you're making me look like the bad guy here. isn't it my right to touch you as your fiancé?"
you cried harder, shaking your head and asking him to let you go. you felt such distress it was hard to control yourself. you were disoriented and lost, absolutely confused as to who exactly was before you excepted for your fiancé. would anyone save you if you screamed ? you doubted it, considering how his family was respected and felt sick in your head to know nobody would take the side of an omega like you.
you were wriggling again the grip he had on your neck when you felt it. cold and hard on your skin, rough to the touch and barely alive anymore. silence fell upon you before you could breathe again and a loud shattering noise was heard. tiny pieces of rocks hit your feet and your eyebrows furrowed when you heard the panicked pleads of the once so arrogant alphas.
you stayed put, unaware of the crime scene before you and the lavender-haired man who had just emerged from the next street upon catching your screams and sour scent.
you tried to catch your breathe, a serie of "please no!" escaping their throats, but you never relaxed, even when the deafening silence engulfed you once again after the similar shattering sounds were heard.
your eyes were wide open, frantically searching around in the obscurity. you gathered your hands to your chest in hope to make you appear smaller than you were, to appease whoever was pissed off.
"I'm sorry they did that to you", you jumped at the calm tone of his voice. you instinctively turned your head towards him, your pretty eyes catching his unknowingly.
he felt himself tense under your stare because of how unusual it was for him to be face to face with anyone.
"go home for tonight and don't wander alone like that again", there was some distance between the both of you, his voice was far away and let you relax a little at his warm and gentle intonation.
despite his initial excitement, his eyes softened when you seemed to trust him, taking slow and careful steps toward him, his voice guiding you.
he watched as you stumble on one of the statues and mitsuya approached you with cautious steps, alerting you that he was coming closer. "tell me if you want me to leave you"
you reassured him with a soar and soft voice, sounding oh so fragile. he offered you his hand in a silent reassurance and with a gentleness you didn't expect. you took it hesitantly and he guided you out of the dark alley you found yourself in.
"are you alright now ?", he asked after a while. none of you seemed to want to let go of each other's hand. he felt strangely scared to leave you alone and the foreign sense of security he gave you forced the two of you together.
"yes, thanks to you"
mitsuya was a sweet man despite the initial fear everyone seemed to arbour every time they met him. he took his sweet time getting to know you, and you didn't expect to have him by your door the next day, your basket of flowers put back together in one piece after being torn apart yesterday night.
you kept having little dates together, secretly hiding away in the deep forest mitsuya knew by heart. he made sure to take you to the best spots, while reassuring you with soft hums and a comforting scent every chance he got.
the connexion he felt with you was refreshing and sparked in him a protective instinct he didn't think he had in him.
he wanted to make sure you felt safe and would be willing to go on another date with him afterwards so he behaved correctly while assuring you nobody would be mean to you if you remained by his side.
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ALPHA! KAZUTORA (a fateful kidnapping)
bloody screams and desperate attempts at escaping drove each one of you mad. you ran without knowing where, only trying to chase away the yelling of your people.
you tripped against the statues littered across the floor, scratching your knees and hurting your hands in the process. you tried not to think of your dead loved ones, only focusing on your survival.
he was mad, completely crazy and thirsty for revenge.
your people had failed to give him a satisfying enough offering like you always did and here were the consequences.
a real massacre.
you found your way to a deserted house and pushed the door open, you scurried under the small space of the stairs, not having enough strength to drag yourself anywhere farther.
you heard him not long after, slow steps as if teasing you. you both knew you weren't winning and it amused him.
"where are you hiding little one ? if only you could smell yourself, only a fool would walk pass such a sweet scent"
you tried to muffle your pitiful cries, eyes shutting themselves with force. you couldn't calm your breathing down when he came closer, knowing exactly where you went but wanting to see you give yourself to him willingly.
"so cute", he whispered that more to himself than you, a smirk stretching his lips.
he bent down right next to you, inhaling deeply your scent. he took a lock of your hair in his hands, a satisfied look in his eyes.
"oh come on omega, just open your pretty eyes for me to see. listen to me while I'm being nice"
when you refused he persisted, keen on to see you give in. "you're the only one left omega, better make this quick for yourself don't you think?", your breath was cut short at the revelation, growing more and more distressed at your predicament.
"calm down, just breathe for me okay. don't want you fainting on me, it would be no fun right?"
a strange fondness made his way inside kazutora's heart while he helped you reach a calmer state. your head was still kept low, and tears kept running. but you managed to slow down your heartbeats thanks to him spreading calming pheromones all around you, your instincts reacting to them without your consent.
"that's right, just like that. you're doing so well"
and slowly but surely, everything felt calm again. you reached for his hands now gently cradling your face and forced them away from you.
you felt desperate, his proximity kept your thoughts going as just how fucked up your situation was, how inescapable it was. so you took advantage of your more relaxed state to pry your eyes open, guiding them up to meet his.
he watched you silently, almost regretfully but did nothing to stop you. he was eager to see your whole face and in the mere second when you lifted your face, he swore your statue would be the only one he took with him. he wouldn't let you rot away with the others. such a scared and fragile little thing...
and yet, he fell silent as he took in your soft features.
"your eyes...", he trailed off, shocked.
you were just as confused. why wasn't he doing anything? why was it taking so long? he mirrored your confusion, was your blindness enough to stop his curse from working on you?
a wave of relief washed over him and for the first time in years, kazutora felt at peace.
he didn't have to carry with him your dead body, he could simply ask you to follow him, or even better! he was going to court you, just like he dreamed of doing. he could look at you in all the angles and you wouldn't be harmed !
how sweet life was to finally smile at him and gift him a precious omega.
                                    · · ୨୧ · ·
ALPHA! BAJI (a gift from aphrodite)
desperately lonely. that's how baji felt for hundred of years now, since he was struck with his curse.
he ostracised himself from society, scared of bringing harm to anyone who would do just as much as look at him. he was feared and hated, despite never wishing anything bad on anyone.
one night, he found himself on the temple of aphrodite, the goddess of love, and begged all he could to grant him his only wish. the only desire he ever had.
upon hearing his cries, the goddess sent her child, cupidon, and charged him with a mission to bring her faithful devotee the perfect match for him.
you didn't know how you found yourself here, laying down on that same altar baji was praying on just about a few minutes ago.
all your senses were alert, trying to catch any familiar scent that would indicate where you were.
but you didn't smell anything, except for the cold marble floor and the strong and intimidating scent of what could be nothing else, if not an alpha.
"w-where am I? and who are you?" your voice bounced on the walls of the immense temple, and it sounded just like honey to baji's ears.
he couldn't believe his own eyes. had his prayers finally been answered? after a hundred years all but begging for the deity to let him find a precious omega who would come to love him and who wouldn't be harmed by his deadly curse.
and there you were! from the way your doe-eyes were looking around you, never settling on anything, he knew he had nothing to be scared about.
you won't crumble under his gaze, and baji could keep and love you to himself, just like he always dreamt.
he carefully went up to you, sweet words and kind purrs. and as if you were destined, you felt nothing but comfort emitting from the stranger, trusting him fully after just a few minutes.
"hey there, that's it I'm right here. you can stay up there while I come to help you down, okay?"
baji's instincts were screaming, blissfully looking at his adorable omega. he didn't know how to thank aphrodite, but one thing was for sure, he was going to cherish you to show just how grateful he was.
ALPHA! IZANA (sick love)
izana couldn't believe it and he'll keep spending his whole life trying to ignore the deadly weapon he has in his eyes.
it wasn't always like that, it was only the result of a deity's punishment after he had accidentally profaned his temple.
and the day he witnessed the first ever person falling to his death for simply looking at him was a nightmare burned inside his memory.
he hated the curse and hated how isolated he became afterwards, how his village, his friends and even his family chased him from his hometown, refusing to even take one last look at him.
but luckily he had you. his sweet childhood friend who stayed with him through thick and thin while never feeding the thought of abandoning him like all the others.
you were blind and resistant to his curse, so your relationship never changed. at first.
the usually kind alpha you knew quickly turned bitter and tried to drive away anybody trying to come to you, just like they all avoided him.
if they thought his curse was going to make it easier for them to court you, they were dead wrong.
izana developed a growing obsession for you and a sick jealousy which ruled your entire life now. you thought it would pass once he recognised your loyalty and eventually came to terms with his own cursed eyes. but he never did and only worsened with the time, growling at you to never leave him, that you would lose your way without his guidance, that people would try to steal you because of how naive and innocent you were. he wanted to force this codependency on you and break you down to make it sure you would always need him.
none of it made sense and you tried to reason him. even when people started to yell at him to get away from here, only you stood by his side, knowing that the charming boy you once knew wasn't all gone.
but this situation only made it easier for him to keep you for himself, your people not caring if you left alongside him as long as he left the village immediately.
he comforted himself at seeing your similar treatment and grew overly possessive, only allowing you to breathe and stay pretty next to him, occasionally patching up his wounds if he had to fight someone for your safety.
"y/n, you know how much I love you right ? those people only wish the worst for us, that's why I had to do that, you understand? I just need you, my sweet omega, you'll stay with me, right?"
and you don't have a choice but to mutter a kind "of course!" with a fake enthusiasm, knowing full well that even though he can't force you to stay put by turning you into stone, he can and will physically restrain you enough that you'll never even foster the idea of running away and leave him alone.
you're the only flawless being he ever met, izana wishes for things to stay that way. you offer him stability and if you were to be gone, he'd completely lose it.
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spaceyaceface · 10 months
Text
Only In Dreams
Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader/MC
This fic was written based on the angst prompt the wonderful @applinsandoranges gave me!!! I had SUCH a great time writing this, thank you so so much lovely! There's definitely a lot of angst in here, but I am but a softy, and couldn't help but give it a happy ending :)
Summary: She spent her days in love with him, and her nights wishing they were together. But she knew it would never be---Ominis Gaunt had sworn off love for the sake of ending his family's legacy. She knew she wouldn't be an exception to that.
Prompt: “I’d rather sleep in all day ‘til I’m dead”
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: Angst
It hurt, being so in love with her best friend. 
It hurt even more when even sleep didn’t let her escape from it. 
She woke with a start, hand reaching up to brush over her lips, recalling the echo of his breath mingling with hers from just before she awoke. The first few times she’d had that dream she couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Now, though, she only released a shuddering breath and arose to begin her day. 
The dream was always the same. They were standing in some room—she wasn’t sure where, exactly, but that didn’t matter. All she saw was him. He smiled, and told her that he loved her. Then he leaned closer, closer—
And there it ended. 
Night after night, she lived through the same tormenting scenario, one she was absolutely certain was impossible. 
She had been in love with Ominis Gaunt since the summer after her sixth year when he came to visit her small flat in London. They had walked down the street, arm in arm under the flickering streetlights. When they had stopped on a bridge and he offered her his coat, she knew she was doomed. It had only gotten worse since then. Every innocent touch felt like fire. The rare laughs he gave when in the company of his closest friends made her stomach tumble end over end. And in the night, when she fell asleep thinking of him, he found his way into her dreams. 
Maybe they were nightmares. She didn’t know what to call them anymore. All she knew is that they were painful, showing the desires that could never be. 
Ominis had told her several times throughout their friendship that he planned on never marrying. It would be selfish of him, he insisted, dragging any undeserving person into the mess that was the Gaunts. To ask someone to bear that name—the possibility of children forced to have it—it was too much. No, he had told her. He couldn’t do that to anyone. Better not to love when he was certain it would result in nothing but continuing his family’s legacy of pain. 
Back before her feelings for him had fully come about, she had tried to argue against his stance. Ridiculous, she had told him. Why should their mistakes define whatever happiness you might find? But it was useless. When the subject came up after she had fallen like stones were tied to her feet she felt she couldn’t speak on the issue. Before, it had been for him. For his happiness. But suddenly, it felt like she was trying to convince him for her sake. 
She knew full well that she would not be an exception to his decision, as little as she cared about what the name Gaunt would mean if it ever became hers. 
As she finished dressing, she sat on her bed, closing her eyes and sighing. What she wouldn’t give to live in that dream. Where none of that mattered. Where he felt the same. Where that ache in her chest became a flame of excitement and hope. 
Just as she had every day for the past month, she walked down to the Great Hall, as if there was nothing wrong at all. 
Despite the pain of having what she wanted so near, she couldn’t help but seek out Ominis’s calming presence. She was a moth to his soothing flame, eager to hear his quiet voice as he whispered witty remarks, desperate to let her hand brush his as they walked. So when she entered the Great Hall and saw him talking to Sebastian, she smiled. 
His head tilted toward her as she approached, having long memorized the sound of her footsteps. His soft smile graced his lips. “I swear, you get here later and later every day. Soon enough you’ll be missing breakfast all together.”
She chuckled. “I’ll just have Sebastian help me nick something from the kitchens when I do.” 
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Please. You know stealing from the kitchen is easier than anything. If you need help with that, you’re hopeless.” 
“Maybe I just wanted the company.”
“Are you suggesting Sebastian is good company?” Ominis said, smirking.
“I never said good or bad. He is entertaining, in the least.” 
Sebastian tore off part of the toast he’d been eating and threw it at her. “I don’t know why I talk to the two of you. There’s never a break from the torment.”
“Except right now,” Ominis said. “Off to Ancient Runes you go, unless you’d rather join us for History of Magic.”
He scoffed. “Never. I can’t believe the two of you still take that class. Voluntarily.” 
“It’s an interesting subject, Binns is just an awful professor,” she said.
Ominis shrugged. “I just take it for my beauty sleep.” 
“Merlin knows you need it,” Sebastian said, patting Ominis’s shoulder and starting down the hall. “I’ll see the two of you later.” 
She and Ominis began walking to class, one of the rituals they had together. She’d always enjoyed having this class with him, whether it was spent sharing not-so-quiet whispers or nodding off for a morning nap, it was always nice. 
And as she watched Ominis as he laid his head against his hand, she remembered just why she didn’t mind the nodding-off days. 
He looked so peaceful as he napped, his protected expression giving way to one of pure bliss. It always made her sad to think she saw that softness from him so rarely—it made her hate his family all the more for stealing that from him, like so much else. 
She didn’t know how long she sat, watching him sleep. She didn’t know how long it was until she dozed off herself. But suddenly, there she was, once again. 
All she could focus on was his face tilted down toward her, his hands grasping her own. The rest of the world around them was a blur—it didn’t matter. Not when he was there with her, grinning like a fool. 
“I should have told you ages ago,” he said. “I love you. More than anything.”
The words came so easily. “I love you, too.” 
He leaned forward, placing a hand on her cheek to help guide him. She would wake up any second now, she knew. She would open her eyes and—
His lips met hers. They were soft, gentle. Her head was spinning, heart pounding in her ears. She tilted her head just so—
The jostle on her shoulder catapulted her back to reality. Her breath was coming fast as she looked over at Ominis, his hand still on her arm. A quick glance around the near-empty classroom told her class had just ended. 
“Sorry to wake you, but it’s time to go,” Ominis said. 
He stood and offered his hand to her. Fighting warmth in her face, she took it, letting go quickly once she was on her feet. His brows furrowed. He seemed to have noticed the slight tremor in her hand. 
They walked down the hall, heading to their next lesson. She couldn’t look at him—not without seeing the image of him in her dream. She did her best to act normal, chatting with him softly as they went. 
But Ominis knew her too well. He stopped at the end of one of the corridors and turned toward her. “Are you alright? You’re acting… off.” 
She pressed her lips together. “I’m fine, Ominis.”
“You don’t seem fine,” he said softly, taking a step closer to her. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Did… did you have a nightmare, just now in class?”
Only he could see right through her like that. “No, not really. It was just a dream.”
“Just a dream?” He shifted his weight, shaking his head a bit. “I don’t think it qualifies as ‘just a dream’ if it’s left you in a state like this.”
“It was… it was a dream that couldn’t come true, alright?” she said softly. “I can’t explain any more than that.” 
“Maybe if you talked about it, it would help—”
“Ominis, please,” she said, voice pleading. “Drop it. I can’t talk about it.”
And drop it he did. 
He was so bloody kind. So damn respectful. It made her want to bawl her eyes out. 
The dreams only got worse in the coming days. She imagined the feeling of his lips on hers nearly every night, and then it progressed to more soft moments she had always been longing for—laying side by side in a field, hands intertwined, his arms wrapped around her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead—and then the worst of all. Ominis, standing down an aisle, soft music playing as she stepped toward him. 
That was the one that destroyed her. She woke up in tears, curling up in the corner of the bed and trying not to wake her dorm mates with her sobs. Of all the cruel things her mind could conjure up, that one stung like a knife to the heart, because there was nothing she wanted more than to devote herself completely to the man she loved so much. 
She thought about avoiding him for a while. See if it would get the dreams to stop. But each time she went someone, determined not to talk to him or look his way, there he was, a lighthouse shining out for her ship so lost at sea. He called her home to him, time after time, and she went, no matter how much it hurt. 
It was Sebastian who finally called her out for her strange behavior. She knew it had only been a matter of time. She was too anxious, too jumpy compared to normal. Shen her two friends would bicker, she would find herself lost in thought, only to be startled when one of them asked her a question. 
“What’s been going on with you?” Sebastian asked as the two of them settled on the floor of the Undercroft. “We’ve been worried. You’re not yourself.”
A million options of what to tell him ran through her head. But after just a moment or two, she finally settled on what to say—the truth. 
“I love him, Sebastian,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. Instinctively, she pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her head on them. “I love him so much, and I don’t…” The tears started coming, and once they began, she couldn’t stop them. Sobs worked their way up her throat, all of the aches she had built up for months finally letting loose. 
Sebastian rushed to comfort her, albeit a bit taken back by the outburst of emotion. He rubbed his hand over her back, trying to soothe her. “Hey—hey, it’s alright. You’ll be alright,” he said softly. 
She tried to regain control. It was difficult, but she focused on taking deep breaths. When Sebastian saw she had calmed down enough to talk once more, he let out a sigh. “You’re talking about Ominis?” 
She nodded, not trusting her voice. 
“Can I ask how long?” 
“Since he visited me last summer but… God, Sebastian, it’s only been getting worse.” She took a shuddering breath. “For weeks now, I’ve dreamed that he feels the same, even though I know he’ll never…” She bit her lip, eyes welling up once more. 
“A dream that couldn’t come true,” Sebastian said, sounding far off. Ominis had told him of his worries after History of Magic, of course. Now it all made sense. “I’m so sorry.” 
“I know it’ll never happen,” she said. “He made it very clear he has no intention to pursue anyone like that. I’ve accepted it.” 
She wished Sebastian could reassure her. Tell her no, you’ve got it all wrong, he’s mad for you. But they both knew their friend—that he had locked up his heart and thrown away the key, despite any and all protest from them. So Sebastian didn’t say empty words of ‘you never know’ or ‘it could work out’ or ‘you’ve still got a chance’. Instead, he looked at her with eyes full of sorrow, and offered a tight lipped smile. “Do you think it would help if you just told him?” 
“Maybe,” she admitted. “Then I could put it to rest. I could stop fooling myself that there could be a way to make things work.” She could stop dreaming about it.
Sebastian left. He promised he would find Ominis, send him down there to talk to her. She’d have a few minutes to gather her courage, to find the right words.
And then it’d be over. 
She could only hope it wouldn’t destroy their friendship—all the good they had built. She needed him, desperately, in any way she could have him. He was the anchor in her life. 
When the door to the Undercroft opened, she felt like she might suffocate. He called out her name. 
“Are you alright? Sebastian said you needed to talk, what’s going on?” His voice was on the verge of panic. It pulled at the most tender parts of her heart. In a moment, he stood in front of her, putting away his wand. “What’s happened?”
She closed her eyes, steeling herself up. “I’m fine, Ominis, I just needed to tell you something. Something I hope doesn’t ruin everything.” 
“Ruin…” His voice trailed off. “I’m… afraid I don’t follow.” 
“I love you, Ominis.” The words, the ones that she had locked away for so long, the ones she had swore to herself she would never utter, pierced the air with sudden sharpness. She watched Ominis’s expression wash away, an empty slate of utter shock overtaking it. “I love you. I… I needed you to know that. I’m sorry. I don’t expect anything from you. You’ve already told me you would never love another like this. I suppose my heart just couldn’t heed those warnings.”
He didn’t even seem to be breathing. His mouth opened slowly, as if trying to form a response, but closed again. 
She brushed her hand on his arm. “It’s ok. You don’t need to say anything. I just needed to put this all to rest. I hope…” her voice trembled. “I hope we can remain as friends.”
She left him alone in the Undercroft before she could start sobbing yet again. 
-
When Ominis entered the common room, he was an utter mess. 
Sebastian had waited up for him—he expected he would need to talk after everything happened. By the time Ominis finally came back, everyone else had gone off to bed. 
Ominis’s usually neat hair was disheveled from running his hands through it over and over again. His blazer was held bunched up in his arm, no care for the later wrinkles it was sure to have. The hand holding his wand in front of him was shaking terribly. 
“I take it she told you?” Sebastian said softly, clearly worried about the state of his friend. 
Ominis didn’t answer, dropping his coat on one of the sofas and pressing his hands to his face. 
“What happened? What did you say to her?” Sebastian asked. If this was how Ominis had fared after their conversation, he could only imagine how she was doing. 
“I didn’t say anything.” Ominis’s voice was quiet. Hollow. 
“You—hold on, she laid her heart out to you, and you didn’t say anything?” Sebastian stood,  folding his arms across his chest.
“What was I supposed to say, Sebastian?” Ominis said. “My mind went blank.”
“You tell her it’ll be alright!” Sebastian replied, anger edging its way into his voice. “You tell her that even if you don’t love her the same, you’ll still be there for her.” 
“I can’t lie to her, she’d see right through it,” Ominis said. 
“So you’re abandoning her, then?” Sebastian took a step closer to his friend. “You can’t handle knowing she cares so deeply for you, so you cut her off?”
“That’s not what I’d be lying about!” 
Ominis collapsed onto the sofa, head falling into his hands. The meaning of his words slowly sank in. 
“You love her, too?” 
His silence was enough of an answer. 
“Then why didn’t you tell her that?” Sebastian’s voice had lost all of its fury as he came to sit next to his friend. 
“How could I?” Ominis scoffed. “You know what I’ve always said. I don’t want to drag anyone into my mess of a family. I thought I could simply… not fall in love. It sounded easy enough. But she came along and…” He shook his head, sighing. “How could I ask her to be part of all of that?” 
“But you wouldn’t be,” Sebastian said. “You wouldn’t be asking her to be part of your family. You’d be asking her to be with you. I think she’s made it pretty clear she would say yes to that in a heartbeat.” 
“Sebastian, you don’t—”
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You deserve to find happiness. You’ve found it in her. Your bloodline shouldn’t determine that for you.” 
“I…” Ominis pressed his lips together. “I’ll think about it.”
Sebastian sighed. “I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get.” He stood, patting his friend on the shoulder. “I’m off to bed. If you have any sense in you, you’ll tell her first thing in the morning.” 
It was a good long while later when Ominis finally entered the dorm room. Even as he laid out on his bed, sleep evaded him. When the first bit of sunlight began to warm the room, Ominis pulled himself out of his mess of sheets. 
First thing in the morning it was. 
He didn’t even know if she would be awake yet, or if she would have been out of her dorm. But he couldn’t lay in his bed a moment longer. He’d search for her, for hours if he needed to, just to feel like he was doing something. 
Funny how she was at the first place he looked. 
She’d always been fond of the boathouse. She’d told him how some nights when she couldn’t sleep, she’d sit out there to look out at the stars. It was always quiet there, just the lapping of gentle waves from the lake and a soft breeze. She was leaning against the railing of the dock, his wand told him, staring out over the water. 
“I thought you might be out here.” 
She didn’t respond, but patted the railing beside her, an invitation to join her. He put his wand away and settled where she’d indicated. He took in a deep breath through his nose, letting the fresh scent of pine carried over the lake soothe him. 
“It’s a lovely sunrise,” she said softly. 
He was sure it was. He could feel it—the growing warmth of the early morning. “I came to apologize,” he said.
“You don’t need to do that,” she said. “You can’t help if you don’t feel the same. Please don’t feel bad about it, Ominis.” 
“But I—that’s not what I’m apologizing for.” He took a deep breath, preparing himself. “I didn’t say a word last night. That was awful of me. To leave you in the dark on the thoughts running through my head. I can’t imagine what this night has been like for you, it was tormenting me, thinking of how it must have made you feel.” 
He heard a slight movement from her, an inhaling breath that told him she was about to respond. “Please,” he said, interrupting her before she could speak. “Please, let me finish. I need you to know exactly how I feel.” 
She stayed quiet. He willed himself to go on. “When you told me you loved me, I… I was afraid. You were right. I had always been determined not to fall in love, not to allow myself those feelings. But then I met you, and it made me question everything.” He felt her attention trained fully on him. “Before I knew it, I was in love with you. How could I have expected anything less? But I was still so caught up in my family, in the legacy they’ve left, how I could never ask you to be a part of it. You deserve so much better than all of it.”
He turned his head, facing toward her. “But I can’t let them loom over me forever. Not when it keeps me from what I want most. I love you. If you’ll have me, I am yours.” 
He didn’t have a chance to prepare himself for the way she threw herself on him. The way his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he fell was pure instinct. The two of them tumbled to the pier, and he couldn’t even think to feel any pain over the sound of her joyful laughs. 
They sat up. One arm was still around her waist, and her own were thrown over his shoulders. Her nose buried itself right by the crook of his neck, the warm breath of her laughs tickling him. He couldn’t help his own laughter as it bubbled out of him. The months—years of aching, of wanting, of waiting, slipping away in an instant. 
She pulled her face back, and he could feel her eyes tracing over him. “I love you,” she said softly, smile in her voice. “I love you more than anything.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and all she could think was how much better it was than her dreams.
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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months
Text
Nena II
Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader
Summary: Just another day at your sister's work
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You giggled as Asisat lifted from her shoulders and swung you around. Your tummy went all fluttery in a good way as she kept going before releasing you to stumble about.
She caught you when you lost your footing, putting you upright again and smothering a laugh when you fell right back onto the floor.
"Again?" She asked.
You got up immediately, nodding. "Uh-huh!"
"I think we should take a break," Sandra said as she approached," Or the little miss might throw up her breakfast."
"Ingrid's Mapi made pancakes!" You said excitedly," And Ingrid let me have syrup with it!"
"Wow!" Sandra said to you before turning to Asisat," It'll be a pain to clean if she pukes that all up and then you'll have to explain to Ingrid why we've got her kid sister throwing up her food."
"Alright." Asisat ruffled your hair. "Maybe later then."
"Later!" You agreed before allowing Sandra to take your hand and lead you to a shady area.
You had fallen into an easy routine in the past few weeks you've spent in Barcelona. Ingrid and her Mapi would get you ready for the day where one of their teammates (usually Frido or Keira) would take you out onto the field where you would sit in the shady area where the goalkeepers practiced.
Today, though, you were joined by familiar faces.
"Jana! Bruna! Look, I made pictures!"
The two girls, cleared from medical enough to lightly train but not enough to do the extremely complicated drills that were currently going on, hung out with you.
"That is very good, y/n," Jana complimented," You're the best colourer."
"I am very good." You knew that already because Ingrid and her Mapi told you often but, still, it was nice to be recognised for your talent. "You colour."
You tore a sheet out of your book and gave it to Jana along with a purple pencil.
You did the same for Bruna before deciding, after watching her for a moment, that she wasn't doing well so you sat on her lap and helped her.
"In the lines," You told her, parroting the words your Papa used to say to you," So it's not messy anymore. Don't worry. You'll get better when you practice more."
"Gracias, y/n," Bruna said," I'm sure with an expert like you, I will get it in no time."
You nodded and grabbed another sheet. "Mama says you have to practice to get better. She says that's why Ingrid's so good at the ball game so you have to practice your colouring, Bruna. So you can get better."
The warm Spanish sun beat down upon you and your friends as the other girls trained. When it get even hotter, Jana and Bruna gave you two bottles of water and sent you on your way with them.
"Gemma! Cata!" You said as you approached," Here!"
"Our hero!" Cata said as she unscrewed the lid and drained it. "Thanks, kiddo! Gemma, thank her."
Gemma sprayed water at Cata. "I was going to before you interrupted." She leaned down to hug you before allowing you to chug from her drink. "Thanks for the drink, little buddy. Why don't you head on back to Jana and Bruna and do some more colouring? It's nearly time for lunch."
Gemma was right because no sooner had you completed your third picture, did Marta and Caro come to collect you.
Your hand fit easily into Caro's hand and you took Marta's too - just because you could. Together, they swung you into the air every few steps and you giggled ecstatically every time.
Marta laughed with you while Caro settled for just a smile. You beamed at them both - especially when Caro decided to make a pitstop to get you a chocolate bar from the vending machine.
Marta ended up making your plate for lunch and no matter how much you begged and begged, she stuck to the list of approved food your sister had given her.
"Go on, nena," She said, directing you to a very full table," Can I trust you girls to look after her?" The occupants of said table all nodded and she gave them a fierce look before relenting.
Lucy stopped you from sitting down, grabbing her jacket to pile it onto the empty seat. She nudged Keira. "Pass it over." Once Keira surrendered her own jacket as well as Ona, Salma and Esmee, Lucy used them all to create a makeshift booster seat for you before plonking you onto it and pushing your food closer.
"I heard you had a fun weekend, nena," Ona said with a smile, glancing around before pushing part of her nice food onto your plate.
You nodded. "Uh-huh, Ingrid took me to the park and her Mapi let me take Bagheera on a walk."
Esmee rolled her eyes with a huff of a laugh. "She spoils that cat."
"Bagheera's my best boy," You replied to her, cramming food into your mouth," He naps in sunspots and sleeps in my bed with me."
"Really?" Keira asked before glaring daggers at Lucy," Sounds just like Narla."
You cocked your head to the side. "Tia Alexia's dog sleeps in her bed?"
"She means my dog," Lucy said as she ruffled your hair," I have a dog called Narla too."
You made a face. "That's mean, Lucy," You said," You shouldn't name your dog after Tia's Nala. She could get bullied."
Salma, on your other side, laughed. "I don't think dogs get bullied, nena."
"Cats get bullied," You said," Ingrid's Mapi said that's why Bagheera isn't allowed out without her - because the neighbourhood cats bully him. The other dogs could bully Lucy's Narla."
Salma chuckled as she ruffled your hair and shovelled food into your mouth. "Never change, nena. You're adorable."
You made a face at that but didn't argue, allowing Salma to feed you to rest of your meal.
You got restless halfway through lunch and slipped off your seat to tug on Irene's sleeve. You bounced up and down urgently. "Toilet," You said to her because she was Mateo's mama and your mama told you that every mama in the world recognised the potty dance.
Thankfully, your mama was right because Irene excused herself from her conversation and took your hand, leading you to the bathroom.
You did your business quickly but had to be lifted up to reach the sink and then again to use the hand dryer - bursting into hysterical giggles when Irene poked you in the stomach when your top rode up.
By the time you got out of the toilet, lunch had finished and Mariona joined the two of you on your walk to the gym.
"Looking cool in your shoes, nena," She said.
You grinned at her proudly. "They're my most favourite!" Yet again, you had chosen to wear your new light-up shoes. You had been wearing them a lot recently so now Ingrid didn't get worried your feet would start aching because they had finally been broken in.
"Well, they're my most favourite too!" Mariona replied.
"Good!" You said firmly, patting her side in approval with a smiling face. Mariona was pretty cool most of the time when she wasn't running around like a headless chicken and she was doubly cool when she talked to you about your new shoes.
"Are we talking about super cool light-up shoes because..." Patri stamped her feet and the bottom of her shoes lit up into a rainbow.
You gasped and jumped, showing that your shoes could do the same.
"I told you I'd find them, nena! Look at us, we're matching!"
"We are!"
Patri took your hands from Irene and jumped up and down with you, both of your shoes lighting up in sync. You giggled hysterically as the colours bounced.
Over her shoulder, you spied another recognisable face.
"Claudia! Claudia!" You exclaimed," Look! Look! We match!"
You and Patri jumped again to prove your point and Claudia gasped. She glanced around like she had a secret before beckoning you closer.
"You know what?" She asked.
"What?"
"All three of us match!"
She stamped her feet and her shoes lit up too.
You gasped.
"Wow! So cool!"
You looked around the room, holding onto Patri and Claudia and dragging them over to the corner of the gym.
"Aitana! Aitana! Aitana! We match!"
The three of you stamped your feet, causing the rainbow lights to appear again.
Aitana, as she lifted weights, smiled at you. "That's really cool, nena."
You looked down at Aitana's sad, boring shoes and sighed. You released Claudia and Patri to pat Aitana on the leg consolingly.
"It's okay," You told her," If you ask very nicely Claudia and Patri can take you to get matching shoes too."
She let out a chuckle. "Thanks, nena."
Before you could make any more suggestions though, you were pulled away from your friends by Frido, who promptly led you over to the opposite side of the gym which had been set up for your nap time.
You frowned. "Don't wanna nap," You complained.
Frido sighed. "I know. I don't want you to nap either but Ingrid says so."
You huffed. "Ingrid's not the boss of you."
Frido's eyebrows raised. "Somehow, I don't think Ingrid agrees with that. Come on, you, nap time. I'll get you some cake tomorrow if you nap now."
Your eyes narrowed. "With sprinkles?"
"With sprinkles."
"Okay. Naptime now."
Your nap went by very quickly and when you ended it, you still felt groggy.
Someone was touching you though and you squirmed around in their arms until your head was tucked into their neck. They were nice though, nice and warm even if they jostled you every time they took a step.
"You should take a picture for Olga," Your Ingrid's Mapi teased," It might get you one of these sooner rather than later."
"I'm quite content with this one." It was Tia Alexia's voice that spoke next and you realised that you were in her arms.
You blinked away your sleepiness and rubbed your eyes. "Hola, Tia," You said softly.
"Hola, nena," She replied," You slept a long while. I was getting worried you would sleep forever."
"Silly, Tia," You said," That's not possible."
"No?" She teased," Oh, silly me!" She bounced you. "It's nice to see you, nena. I was worried I wouldn't see you today."
"I always like seeing you, Tia," You replied.
"I like see you too."
You turned your head out of her neck and smiled softly at Ingrid's Mapi.
She smiled back at you, a small smile that was reserved only for you. "Hola, elskling," She said and her use of Ingrid's nickname for you made you feel all nice and fluttery inside. "We're heading home now. Ingrid's getting the car all nice and ready for us."
You nodded but didn't say anything else. You still felt kind of tired and sleepy so just soaked in Tia Alexia's warmth and the steady hum of talking between her and Ingrid's Mapi.
You didn't even notice when you moved from Tia Alexia's arms to your Ingrid's until you were placed in your car seat and strapped in.
Ingrid hovered over you as she wiped up the drool from your cheek. "Hi, elskling. Don't you look all nice and sleepy?"
"Frido made me nap," You replied, eyes drooping as she clipped in the last buckle," But I wasn't really sleepy."
"I bet you're sleepy now though, right?"
You nodded and yawned. "Little bit."
"That's alright, elskling," She said," You have a nice little nap in the car and then you can get up when we get home."
"Okay..." Your eyes drooped even lower. "Mapi?"
"Si, elskling?"
"Can we have cuddles with Bagheera on the sofa when I wake up?"
"Of course, elskling. I'm sure Bagheera would love to cuddle with you."
"And you."
"And me."
"And Ingrid."
"And Ingrid too."
717 notes · View notes
happy74827 · 6 months
Text
No Ordinary Life
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[Sam Riordan x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: The group had almost ran out of options on what to do with Sam, but Andre had decided there was still one more option to explore. And that option, was you. (GIF credits: @heronamedhawks)
WC: 1,179
Category: Slight Fluff, Slight Angst
We don’t know much about Sam as of right now, but I do know I would literally die for this boy. He and Emma really deserve the world, and they fr better have their happy ending (which seems impossible given the universe they live in, but one can hope). This definitely deserves a part 2, depending how well it goes, but for now enjoy the purity that is Sam.
Edit(2023): Hey I finally made the part 2, check it out here
『••✎••』
As Sam walked down the bustling halls of Godolkin, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider. All around him, kids with extraordinary powers, kids like him, were chatting, laughing, and walking to their classes. They were able to use their gifts freely and openly, and they were respected by others for it, but Sam didn't have that luxury. Honestly, he couldn’t remember a time that he did.
All he remembered was the woods, his brother, and the constant pain of being hunted.
His hand unconsciously traveled to top of his head, pulling the hoodie that Emma had lent over to him farther over his face as he tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't easy when the hallway was completely crowded by nosy students, but he did his best. That’s all he could really do.
Emma and Marie (as he found her name to be) were by his side, protecting him for the skewing eyes of others. For the most part it worked, except it drawn more attention to her due to that odd system that Emma had acknowledged him about. A rating, whatever that was.
It was cool to know that his brother had been ranked number one, though.
If Luke was still… No, don’t think about it, Sam.
He shook his head, ridding himself of that train of thought. There was no point in dwelling on the past, and thinking about his brother wouldn’t change anything. He was gone, and Sam was left alone.
His thoughts were interrupted by Jordan, who he was still slightly confused about. He? She? They? They seemed to have been good friends with his brother and they were friendly enough, so Sam didn’t really question the matter too much.
Plus, he kinda enjoyed the subtle sarcasm that Jordan would once in a while use. It made him feel like a kid back in school. So for that, Sam was thankful.
“Dude, this has got to be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Jordan had said, turning to the guy walking besides them… Andre. Sam didn’t know what to make of him, or anyone really. He had always been so closed off from other people, that now it was almost a bit overwhelming.
But at least he had Emma, so he didn't have to worry about the social aspect too much.
Andre gave Jordan a sideways look, a small smirk on his face. He seemed pretty chill too.
“Listen, I don’t like this anymore than you do, Jordan,” Andre stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But with everything happening, and with Cate… this is our best option.”
“Yes, let’s bring the kid with a bounty over his head into the place where they’re all going to be looking for him. Great idea, Andre. Seriously, how did I not think of it first. Soooo smart of you, dude. Good job. I'm so glad we're friends, really I am.”
Jordan rolled their eyes, and Andre just looked away in annoyance. Then, to Sam’s dismay, an awkward silence fell over the group. Once again, Sam was struck by just how different his life was now. It was like he was suddenly thrown into another world, and he had no idea how to function in it. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t even see the zone.
Sam glanced over to Emma, and saw her smiling encouragingly at him. He tried his best to return the gesture, but he felt like his face muscles were going to fall off if he forced them any longer.
After what seemed like hours, but really only a couple minutes, Andre halted in front of a random dorm room door, and turned to face the group. He sighed, his face set into a look of grim determination. Then, he knocked.
Three times, Sam counted. Three knocks.
The door opened almost immediately after, and the man who answered had to be the most handsome human being Sam had ever seen. He had short black hair, a sharp jaw, and a dazzling smile. It was actually kind of intimidating.
“Whadda’ want?” the man asked, his voice a rich baritone. Sam didn't know why, but it felt like the man was judging him. His eyes scanned over the group, lingering on Sam for just a second, before returning back to Andre.
Andre cleared his throat, a bit nervously, but he didn’t get a chance to speak as Jordan scoffed, shoving past the man and into the room. Emma followed, giving the man an apologetic look as she did. And thus, everyone followed, leaving the man alone and bewildered in the doorway.
Once everyone was settled inside, the man shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Andre, his eyes burning holes through his head, but Sam didn’t pay any attention towards him anymore. All his eyes were on the strange girl in front of him, you.
You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed and a bored expression on your face. Your eyes were half lidded, and you seemed to be lost in your own little world. Andre had mentioned you, a little. Said that you were the person he had called earlier, that you would help them figure out what to do with Sam, and that you knew and could a lot of stuff. But he had never told them how gorgeous you were.
Your hair was down, and looked so soft that Sam just wanted to touch it, run his fingers through it, and feel the texture. You had a cute little button nose, and a round, chubby face that was just too adorable. And your eyes were so expressive, a mixture of colors that swirled and shone and sparkled in the light.
Andre had called your attention and you snapped out of it, blinking a few times before glancing up at him. It was then that you noticed the others, and you stared at them all, wide eyed and open mouthed, but that was quickly replaced with a smile.
“Hi, Andre! Wow, you must be Jordan… Marie… and Emma? Right? Oh, and you must be the kid Andre talked about, oh my gosh. It's so nice to finally meet you all. Sorry I didn’t say anything when you came in, I was just finishing up this thing for Kota. Oh, Kota! You're still here… hi. Wait, why are you all here? You weren’t supposed to be here until 2:00, and it's only-”
You looked down at the watch on your wrist, your eyes widening even more when you realized the time. You had been talking so fast that no one had been able to get a word in edgewise, but you had managed to finish what you had to say, and it was all so rushed that it was hard to keep up.
The only thing Sam could focus on was how despite all of that rambling and mumbling, you were still keeping that bright smile that never seemed to falter. A truly happy supe? He never thought it would exist. Even Emma, as sweet and pretty as she was, tended to falsify the smiles she had. Sam only saw her real one about three times. He cherished them, of course. Every single one.
You stood up, brushing yourself off and fixing your clothes, and walked over to them. Your hand was outstretched, and your smile was radiant. Sam could practically feel the happiness radiating off of you.
You looked so innocent, so sweet and pure. He could hardly believe that you were a supe, but the fact that they were all standing here said otherwise. You had power, and you knew how to use it.
Jordan and Marie seemed to have recovered from their daze, and the two shook your hand after Andre. Marie had even introduced herself, and it ended with you in giggles, telling her that you already had known her name.
Emma was next, and she had taken your hand immediately and shook it.
Then it was just him that was left.
He stood frozen, staring down at your outstretched hand. He could feel all the eyes in the room on him, and he just knew that his hood was starting to slip.
His instincts were yelling at him, screaming at him to run. To get out of there and stay far, far away from you. From everyone.
But he couldn’t.
So, instead of fleeing, he slowly, cautiously took your hand in his. It was small, warm, and fit perfectly.
You smiled again but this time it was strictly for him, because of him, and it made his heart beat just a bit faster.
He didn’t even realize it until your smile has widened, but he had pulled down his hood, letting you see his face. He didn't understand why he did, and a part of him wanted to pull the fabric right back over his face, but it was too late now.
The damage had been done.
Sam didn’t have a chance to scrape off the dried blood off his cheeks, another result of an accidental outburst, and he could feel your eyes rake over his face, taking in every single detail.
But it wasn’t judgmental, or critical.
No, there was something else in those swirling eyes of yours, and it was then that he noticed the little flecks of gold hidden in the sea of color.
Sam was a bit embarrassed, to say the least, and he tried to pull his hand away but your grip only tightened, and he didn't have the strength to resist. He felt your hand go up his arm, unraveling the hoodie that clung to him like a second skin.
The others didn’t seem to do anything as you pulled the material above his elbow.
Your eyes roamed over the scar that stretched across his forearm, and he knew what was coming before the words even left your mouth.
Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you as you asked the dreaded question, and his eyes were glued to the floor.
It was Emma who answered, her voice barely a whisper.
Sam despised the pity in your tone. The last thing he wanted was to be pitied. He didn't need or want anyone's pity. He was fine. Everything was fine.
The silence shattered as you took a sharp breath, but Sam couldn't bring himself to look at you. Not when he knew the look of pity in your eyes.
You released his arm, the hoodie dropping to the ground, but Sam didn't even register it. He stood there, frozen, as you slowly reached out your hand towards his face.
"Before I do anything, I want to warn you so it doesn't scare you. Is that okay with you? I just... I want to make sure you're alright. But if you don't want me to touch you, I won't. I'll respect your boundaries. Just tell me, okay?"
Sam blinked, his head tilting upwards, his eyes wide with surprise. There was no pity in your eyes. No negativity or degradation. Only a gentle concern and kindness that he had only experienced in these past few days.
Your touch was tender, and he felt a warmth spread across his face. He couldn't bring himself to deny you. So he nodded, and a small smile appeared on your face. It was still a smile, but a different kind. One he had never seen from you before. And once again, that smile was meant just for him.
Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed, capturing Sam's attention. He hadn't noticed before, but the entire room was filled with interconnected lights, forming a grid-like pattern. They began to glow, pulsating and shifting with each passing moment. The light danced across the walls, creating mesmerizing shapes.
Sam was captivated by the whole process. And then, the lights suddenly stopped, freezing in place. Sam expected them to return to their normal brightness, but they grew brighter and brighter. It was then that he noticed your hands. They were no longer touching him, but rather, they hovered above him, palms facing his face. A peculiar expression settled on your face.
Sam didn't know what it meant, but he didn't have time to wonder because, in an instant, your hands transformed into light. It wasn't like beams shooting out of your palms, but rather, golden particles that flowed around your body and traveled along the lights, intensifying their brightness. Patterns began to form and move.
Sam watched in awe as the shapes transformed into pictures and scenes. The colors melted and shifted together. Light filled the room, washing away the world around him, leaving only the vibrant colors, the images, and your face.
Your face, so close to his. The smile still adorned your lips, and your eyes shone like stars, the brightest things in the room. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted that the light was beautiful, just like you.
It was the most extraordinary sight he had ever witnessed. It was as if the sun had exploded, its light spreading across the room. The colors danced along the walls, forming vivid images. Sam saw a field, a house, a family. He saw his old friends. He saw him. His brother, Luke.
Sam's face crumpled, and a sob escaped his throat. Tears blurred his vision, but they were absorbed by the light, vanishing as soon as they fell. You remained a silent observer, watching over him as the colors gradually faded, and the world returned.
The room was as bright as before, but everything was the same. Sam could still see the concern and worry etched on your face. You reached up to wipe away his tears, but this time he flinched back, and the contact never happened. Your hands fell to your sides.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and your lips trembled, trying to hold back your emotions. But a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Andre cleared his throat, breaking the spell. Both you and Sam turned to face the others.
They were all watching, expressions of shock and confusion on their faces, except for Jordan, who wore a mask of indifference.
Andre and Emma stared at you, mouths agape, while Sam saw the tears in your eyes, the fear evident on your face.
Of what, he couldn’t tell. As of right now, there were so many things you could be scared of. With The Woods, being the thing that contains most of it all, It was hard to pinpoint one specific reason.
Then, just like before, Andre's voice cracked as he decided to interrupt Sam’s thoughts.
"What the hell was that?"
720 notes · View notes
nanaminsmoon · 8 months
Note
Good morning!!!! I love your blog so much!!!!💗🫶🏾 Your writing is amazing???
Baby daddy Choso????
thank you so much!!! but thanks for requesting this fren bc i love this so much🤭
𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
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cw: pnv, unprotected sex, oral (f + m receiving), choking (f+m receiving), spit kink, choso calls reader; 'baby' and 'baby girl', this man is a masochist lowkey, yeah this is a lil nasty
wc: 3858
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your twins loved their dad; excited feet would scamper their way to your bedroom, three hours earlier than usual, every friday because they knew it’d be the day they’d see him. and you guys had a routine: you got them ready in the morning, took them to school, then choso’d pick them up, and they'd be his for the weekend.
© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.
and, during those 48 hours, there was no beach far enough, nor park busy enough, for choso because he would take his girls wherever they wanted to go. every week, pinkie promises to not tell you about staying up later than rules would allow were made between the trio. then, come sunday morning, the girls would be impatiently jumping into your arms, as soon as you opened your door—usually with some playful change in their appearances. yet this particular one would cause your forehead to crease in confusion,
”what's on my daughter's face?”, you’d ask, once the girls were of earshot. immediately, choso knew what you were talking about but he’d play dumb just to irk you.
”eyes, eyelashes, eyebro—”, he’d start listing, and you’d interrupt him.
”no, dickhead, the thing over her nose”, you clarified and he’d inwardly rejoice at his success at annoying you.
”oh. she saw my tattoo and said she wanted one, so i just got her a little temporary one”, he’d explain, eyes trained on the twins as he waved back at them while they ran around the house.
”and when she wants it for real?”, you’d poke at his chest, and his hand would rise to hold the spot your fingertip had touched as he faked a pained expression.
”i don't know how reckless you think i am, but i'm not gonna tattoo a six year old”, he’d scoff, but his amusement would fall to flatten quite quickly.
as hard as choso tried to fan the hurt fogging his mind, it just wouldn’t leave him. choso could be denounced for his work over, and over, again and he’d bounce back because he was so confident and sure of his abilities. but jabs at his skills as a father never failed to pinch at his heart. people would spend an hour with him, then start to question his parenting abilities based off the way he looked and his reserved manner. the prickling in his chest didn’t come from insecurity, but from sensitivity to reminders of the same baseless assumption. especially coming from someone he deemed to be the perfect parent,
”why do you keep doing that?”, he’d look at you earnestly, and confusion would force your eyebrows together.
”doing what?”,
”making me out to be this bad influence.”,
”maybe it’s because you run around with cancer sticks behind your ears”, you pulled the cigarette from behind his ear, and shoved it in his pocket.
”aside from that. you treat me like i'm gonna corrupt the girls.”, he paused, ”you treat me the way your parents treated me”, due to his appearance and impassive demeanour, most people around you had opposed your relationship with choso. your friends warned he’d be a terrible father, and your parents mistook how reserved he was for coldness, and arrogance. outwardly, he seemed inattentive, rude, and aloof but choso didn’t care because the most important people in his life understood him. he was his daughters’ best friend, protector, and joint number one on their list of favourite princesses to join their tea parties—the other being you.
no matter how many years passed, you’d always love choso. though you weren’t together anymore, the need to defend him against those who misunderstood him had never dissipated. so to hear that you had become one of the people you had spent almost a decade trying to quieten, lunged your heart into your throat.
”choso, i'm so sorry. i didn't know i was being—”, you’d start to apologise, but you’d be quickly interrupted. penitence sunk all your features in a way choso couldn’t ignore; he knew you had no malintent with your words, and he didn’t want you to beat yourself up over it.
”nah, it's cool.”, he waved you off, ”i get it, but you know me. you know i love them to death and i'd never encourage anything that i knew would hurt them. but anyways, i guess i'll go now, i'll see you on frida—”, he’d been stood in the doorway and, as he began to step backwards to leave, your hands would clasp one of his. he’d be visibly surprised, but his feet would still be ladened to their spot.
”let me make it up to you”, you'd propose, and intrigue would raise choso’s eyebrow.
you’d always known there were benefits to your best friend being your neighbour, and today would be the day you’d reap one of them. after instructing choso to sit and wait on the couch, you’d gather the girls’ stuff and take them next door. you’d come back to choso still sat where you had left him, legs spread and large hand dwarfing his phone. the urge to jump on his dick right then and there was stronger than you would’ve liked, but you’d keep composed. even under his fervent glare as he watched you take your shoes off. there’d be a moment of waiting once your eyes met, then you’d beckon for him to follow you. choso’s curiosity was eating away at him, but if there’s one thing he had learnt during your time together it was that he was not to question your plans. even as he realised you were leading him to your bedroom, he’d just scoff to himself and continue trailing you.
once at the door, you’d open it and hold it for him to go in. and, chuckling, he’d enter the room, chills already running down his spine at the way those four walls boxed him into your scent, and swathed him in it. his back being turned to you allowed choso to shamelessly close his eyes, and take it all in. he’d only be brought back to reality by the clicking of the door lock.
”the fuck are you doing?”, he laughed as he turned around.
”making it up to you, now sit.”, he'd raise his hands in surrender, before he’d sit on the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed as he watched you saunter your way towards him.
one thing led to another, and you went from kissing and licking at choso's bulge through his boxers to having his dick throat deep inside you. during your relationship, head had been one of choso’s favourite things. he’d even claimed that, had your pussy not been so good, he’d like head more than sex. there were never enough words to explain it but, to him, there was nothing that drove him crazier than the sight of your eyelashes batting up at him as you took all of him into your mouth, nose tickling his pelvic bone. and, busy with his tattoo studio, choso didn't have a lot of time to date so he couldn't remember the last time he felt a woman's throat enclose around his tip the way yours did. his toes were damn near gripping at the carpet through his socks, as his fingers dug into the duvet. though their one wish was to be entangled in your tresses, scratching at your scalp when you swallowed around him, choso hadn’t forgotten that the reason you had asked him to drop the girls off two hours later than usual, was because you were getting your hair done. so he'd refrain for an entire two seconds, fingers contracting around nothing, before he'd just ask,
”can i put—fuck—my hands in your h—shit, y/n—hair”. and another low ’shit’ would leave his lips when you'd pull him out of your mouth to show him the lewd mix of your saliva and his precum leaking out your lips.
”’f you fuck it up, then you gotta pay for me to get it redone”, you tilted your head to run his length against you lips, and choso’s hands were on your head immediately.
”yes, ma’am”, he moaned out.
though you had been broken up for five years, the mutual sexual attraction between you two had never dwindled, so you two fucking post-breakup was inevitable. that being said, choso hadn't nutted in you in almost two years and he didn’t want the first time in 24 months to be in your mouth. that’s what his heart wanted, but his body would have other plans. head wasn’t just about the feeling for choso, the man loved a performance. knowing this, you’d pull him out of your mouth to allow a string of spit and precum hang from your lips, letting it land on his length again just so you could use it as lube to stroke him a few more times.
”you can’t do shit like that, y/n, i’ll nu—”, his strained voice tried to explain, but it’d be cut short by more of your antics. one second your lips would be around his balls, then the next they'd be damn near touching his pelvic bone, as you took him into your throat again. he'd raise his hand to place it on your forehead,
”w-wait, y/n i'm gonna—fuckfuckfuckfuck—baby, wait i'm gonna cum”, he'd warn, but you'd just take that as a signal to keep hallowing your cheeks and taking him into your throat. the pleasure delayed his reflexes, so choso wouldn’t be fast enough in pulling his dick from your mouth; most of his nut would be inside it and, as you let his dick slip from your lips, he’d get some on your cheek, chin and nose too. the tip of your middle finger would collect some of it, and put it in your mouth, eyes locked with his as you did so.
”i forgot how fucking nasty you are”, he'd chuckle before flopping backwards to face the ceiling, as he just laid on his back.
choso’s love for head wasn’t limited to just receiving, because one of his life’s finest pleasures resided between your legs.
”i just need to get you ready f’r me, baby”, would be his response when you told him he didn’t need to reciprocate. but the truth was, choso luxuriated in the way you grabbed at his hair and closed your thighs around his head—the near suffocation was the closest to heaven he thought he’d ever get. he loved the way your body didn't know what to do with itself, squirming underneath the cold metal of his tongue, and lip, piercing. yet, nothing could dethrone the way the warmth of your thighs taking away all his air made his dick twitch. he'd enjoy the gratifying discomfort they brought, before he'd force your legs open again,
”you taste so fucking good, baby, i don't know how i went without this for so long”, he'd say when he came back up for a breath. his fingertips would dig into your thighs as he placed your legs on his shoulders. fingertips would soon be substituted for large palms, as choso pushed the flesh together to basically cut off his air supply. it felt sick to admit, but he loved the feeling of you essentially choking him out.
choso hadn't intended on eating you out until you came, but once he’d started, he couldn't stop. he’d lost track of time and then, all of a sudden, the feeling of your nails on his scalp was harsher. and if he wasn’t relishing in the feeling, eyes fluttering shut in enjoyment, he might’ve noticed that you were about cum a lot sooner. but he’d only catch on when your babbles became more coherent,
”chos-so, i'm-m cumming, shit”, you'd say, and when his brain finally processed those words, it'd be too late because he'd have your release all over him.
for a few moments, the only sounds audible in your room were your heavy breathing and the sound of choso licking your arousal off his fingers. the glisten of the inside of your thighs would catch his attention, and he’d move to remove them of their shimmer. the feeling of the metal on your skin would coax a jolt out of you, before you’d be backing away from his mouth to sit up and face him. the man looked depraved; hair a mess, and face shining, as he just smirked at you.
the shirt covering your top half would be off, as well as choso’s shirt and boxers. and, seeing your bare body for the first time in years was having visible effects on choso—he was stunned.
”wow”, he said, in a whisper, reaching to hold you but you’d pushed his shoulder.
”what?”, you giggled, and he just shook his head so as to not make you feel embarrassed.
”no, i just…i forgot how beautiful you are”,
”shut up, bruh”, you'd playfully roll your eyes, before pulling at choso’s arm to switch your positions. his interest would be piqued yet again, and you'd quell it with a sloppy kiss to his lips. you’d mount choso to sit at the bottom of his abdomen, and his hands landed on your hips. they'd help you ride the ridges of his toned stomach, taking note of how you moaned into his mouth as your juices smeared all over his lower torso.
you'd soon shift yourself, sliding down his length and choso wouldn’t be able to see much of it because his eyes rolled to shut once he felt you wrap around him. hands placed on his broad chest, you'd move up and down on him and his tatted fingers would dig into your hips. choso’s pleasure was visceral, and he almost wanted it to stop before he got too attached and refused to let it end as he had many times before. when you and choso fucked, you did so for hours because you were both relentless. yet, as good as this felt, choso was ashamed to admit that something was missing.
”this is all for me, right?”, he'd ask breathily, hands stilling you. it’d be hard to formulate thought, because you were just paused with his dick deep inside you. but you'd manage a shabby attempt at a nod.
”well, can you…”, choso’d pause, eyes wandering around the bed, and his uncertainty would make you anxious. when it came to sex, you two had always been honest, and open to try anything. so if it made him cautious, then it was one of two things; something he’d been wanting for a while, or something completely left field.
“could you choke me?”, he'd ask, and your once lidded eyes would be widely staring back at him.
”like…?”, you'd raise your hand, and both of his would engulf it, leading it to his neck.
”this.”, he looked you in your eyes, and your hand grew firmer, ”and just keep it there”, he'd instruct, and you'd nod, before starting to move again.
though new to you, you began seeing the appeal of choking choso very quickly. mainly because of the way his eyelids would flutter, as his eyes rolled to shut, just by virtue of feeling your hand on his neck. not to mention the way his hips would move on their own to rut into you, every time your thumb and middle finger tightened around his throat. he may have been larger than you in stature, but choso was completely under your control. both the tightness of your walls, and the feeling of your hand around his neck—sweat making it hard for you to move while maintaining a secure grip on him—was making him delirious. and he never wanted it to stop.
choso's mouth was making any noise it could muster to express how good he was feeling. he went from quietly cursing under his breath, to just shouting cuss words at you. you weren't far from your nut either; due to both the view and the way his dick’s chase for more pleasure, made choso fuck into you harder. the feeling made your thighs weaken but, ultimately, choso would be the first to let go,
”where d’you want it?”, he asked, and your hand would remain on his neck as you leaned down to speak to him.
”nut in me, choso”, you’d whine, lips latching onto his neck to kiss it. the combination of the sultriness of your voice and your lips attacking the most sensitive spot on his neck, would’ve been enough but choso completely lost it when he’d feel a sting as you marked his skin. he'd cum underneath you, hips stuttering upwards to prolong the pleasure he was feeling. all choso could do was cuss, and dig his trimmed fingernails into you before just laying there, a shell of his former self.
you'd be riding him for a few more minutes, before choso’s control of his limbs would return to him, then he’d have you laid underneath him. no further words would be exchanged before he was slamming into you, silver chains dangling in your face and his hand on your throat, as he fucked you with vigor. as amazing as the opposite had felt, choso much preferred this version of things. he preferred looking down at you as your eyes fluttered and rimmed with salty displays of euphoria, he’d even lean down to lick one as it ran down the side of your cheek. choso indulged in the way you'd grab his forearm as strong as you could, sanguine crescents colouring in the empty spaces in his tattoos. he'd lean down to suck on your nipples, nipping at them just so he could hear the raising in pitch your moans and whines would do when that sensation coursed through you. his eyes would flicker down to the white froth collecting at the base of his dick, as his nut was pushed out of you with his every thrust.
”you're doing this all for me, right?”, he'd ask, and you'd nod, ”this fucked out all for me. taking this dick so good just for me”, he'd say, lips once again around your nipples.
choso wasn't letting up; his pace was merciless, as he fucked you dumb. most times you had fucked, choso would slow down, or pull out, when that familiar constriction of your walls told him you were close. he'd do it until you were crying and begging underneath him, voice growing excrutiatingly hoarse. but, seeing as you already had tears in your eyes, he'd only do it once before he'd just maintain a harsh rhythm as you came around him.
”choso, fffuck”, you cried out, but he'd just keep going. his eyes were so focused on the silhouette of his dick moving in and out of you, as your stomach contracted, that he'd lost all sight of where he was. you could've told choso he was jupiter and the man would've believed you. he couldn't even remember why you guys had started fucking in the first place, all he knew was that he didn't want to stop. to choso, thinking about anything that wasn’t you was a waste of brain power. so he'd turn his brain off and let his body do whatever it wanted to. even if it meant overstimulation for the both of you.
your third nut would be pretty imminent, seeing as choso literally would not stop moving inside of you. but it'd be unlike the others,
”choso, g-gimme a s-second”, you'd say, and he'd shake his head because he knew what you were doing. choso knew your body, and he knew it well; he knew what you were trying to prevent well enough to know that it was the very thing he was striving for,
”you said you doing all this for me, baby.”, he'd remind you, ”’nd i wanna see you make a fucking mess on my dick.”, his words would do nothing but edge you closer to your nut.
”can you do that f’r me?”, he’d ask, and you’d nod your head.
”just f’r me?”, he’d ask, voice laboured, ”i don’t deserve you, baby”, he’d pout before moving down to connect your lips.
and, under his instruction, you’d just let that funny little feeling near your bladder do whatever it wanted to. one of your hands would be struggling to wrap around choso’s wrist, while the other would be gripping the sheets for dear life. the hand choso had placed on your neck would remain stagnant, movement only reserved for the other as it moved to your clit. worries about you moving because of how fast, and hard, he was fucking you were nonexistent because the sweat covering your body meant that you were adhered to the fabric underneath you. choso's tatted fingers would rub on your bud until you came on them, practically spraying him with your release.
a low chuckle would leave choso's mouth at the endearing view of you trying to calm your body down. heavy breaths would slither past your lips, but your eyes remained closed. choso’s hand would plant a light slap to your cheek to wake you back up, but it'd be to no avail. so he’d try once more, this time, grabbing your chin to shake your face until your eyes opened.
”say ‘ah’, baby girl”, he'd ask, and you'd open your mouth as wide as your slack jaw would allow. a line of spit would fall from his lips to your tongue before you'd swallow it, and he'd smirk to himself.
”didn’t even have to tell you what to do”, he’d snicker, and you’d smile contently up at him. the woman choso was seeing was so unlike the one he had met so many years ago, and he dreaded to think that the sweet glint in your eyes had bittered because of him. however, that dread would quickly fade and, in its place, would be a knowing smirk,
”shit, maybe i am a bad influence.”
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wosoluver · 15 days
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Healers got to date protectors - Headcanons
Misa x Physio!reader
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Your first kiss
"Hey guys, good game tonight!" - You came in smiling. They were all in the ice tubs.
Misa looked particularly moody.
"Hey. Are you in any pain?" - You asked coming closer to her.
"No. Just disappointed with the results. We couldn't manage to get a goal."
"Well, you didn't suffer any either. It's the best defense we've had, in the last couple of games. Give yourself a little credit."
Misa cracked a small smile. She was the type to always focus on the things she considered to be bad, then to try and find the silver lining.
Differently from you, she spent most of her time, looking in.
Something that was hard for you to do. Hence your career based on taking care of others.
"Y/N!" - Brunn caught your attention. - "We're going out to celebrate, are you coming?"
By now you had already settled in. You had a great relationship with the players. You had earned each others trust. Friends almost. It was clear for everyone that even though you got along greatly with the medical staff, you just hadn't much in common with them. They were mostly middle aged man who took everything too seriously. You stood out like a sore thumb.
The girls practically took you in as one of them.
"Am I being the designated driver again?"
"You're off duty today. I already volunteered. - said Misa.
"I'm in. I have to check up on Athenea and I'll head home, to get ready."
"I'll pick you up at 8." - Misa let you know.
By 8:30 you were all at the club, having a drink at the table you had reserved.
Into the night you guys went. Between dancing bodies and drinks you finally decided going to the restroom, you let the girls know and made your way there.
Misa had gotten back from ordering another round at the bar and she realized you were not with the group.
"Where is Y/N?" - she had to scream over the loud music.
"She went to the bathroom."
"Alone?!" - as soon as they nodded yes, she was already running after you. Maybe where they're from, it is safer for women who were drunk and alone, but that wasn't the case here in Spain.
You were just coming out of the bathroom when I man you didn't know corned you against a wall.
"Please let me go."
"I just want to know your name. Are you single?"
But before you could say anything else, he was pushed away harshly. When you looked to check by who, you saw Misa. Angrier than you had ever seen her before.
You were about to thank her, when the man pushed her back. And before you could register anything else, She had landed a punch on the man's face.
"Misa!"
Soon security was there.
The man was escorted out. But you didn't feel like partying anymore. And Misa could tell.
"Come, I'll drive you home. We can text the girls to let them know we've left." - She took your hand to guide you through the crowds of people.
"How are they getting home?"
"They can share an uber."
Arguing with her would be of no use. So you just let it be.
Once you got to the car, you could see her knuckles holding tightly to steering wheel. They were already bruising, one of them even had a small cut.
"Misa, your hand."
"It's fine, don't worry." - her facial expressions still in a scary-angry way.
"I'm so sorry."
"The girls shouldn't have let you go alone."
You sobered up real quick after the scare you had.
Arriving home you didn't even say goodbye to her as you got out of the car.
"You can park here."
"What?" - she asked confused.
"Your coming up with me, so I can take care of your hand.
And I'm not taking no for an answer."
She parked the car and got out to follow you up to the apartment.
"Come in, sit down while I get my aid kit." - you said unlocking the door and turning the lights on.
Misa followed your commands quietly. Something everyone had noticed when you were around each other.
She would act like you were god on earth.
You came back to stand between her legs as you took her hand to check it.
You started cleaning the small cut, and proceeded to bandage it up.
"Does it hurt too much? I can't get you some pain meds."
But she only shook her head no. As you applied a healing ointment to the bruises.
"All done." - you said as you looked up from her hands to her eyes.
You were so close you could feel each others breath.
"Thank you." - You said it gently, with a low tone.
By now her face had already softened. In a way you had never seen before. It always felt like she couldn't let her guard fully down. So this sight was new to you.
"You worried the hell out of me." - she said in a similar tone to yours. Giving a small laugh in the end.
"I'm sor-" but you were cut off by her lips on yours. As she pulled you in. After a minute or so, you both pulled away to breath properly.
"Healers need protectors, at least once in a while."
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Hope you guys enjoy! Please leave your comments! There is a third part already planned, but if you have any ideas, you can send them in.🩷
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artiststarme · 5 months
Text
It's No Secret... Anymore
Thank you to @mx-jinxous for the prompt! This took a really long time to write but it was so much fun playing with everyone's dynamics. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!
~*~*~*~
Steve felt like he was dreaming. It felt like he was looking through someone else’s eyes, dissociating far from his own body. He couldn’t feel the weight of Eddie’s slowly-fading body in his arms or the burning of the wounds in his sides. He wasn’t aware of where he was or if anyone was following him. He was purely relying on muscle memory and muscle memory alone. 
He didn’t see the speeding car in front of him that swerved into a nearby bush and fence post. He hardly noticed the hands pulling him backward and out of the road. He came back to himself though once he heard his brother’s voice. 
“Steve? Steve-O? Come on buddy, you’re worrying me here. Where have you been? I haven't seen your ass all week. Come on man, are you… are you fucking bleeding? Brother, answer me. We can’t be out here, there’s an earthquake going on. Come with me.”
Steve blinked just to come face to face with Phil. He was shining his flashlight on Eddie’s face against Steve’s shoulder but his eyes were focused directly on Steve’s.
“You with me, bro?” His mustache twitched unhappily and Steve rushed to answer. 
“Um, no. Not really. I think he’s dying and I kinda might be too. And I think my friends are missing? Where am I?” Steve couldn’t get his thoughts together cohesively. His mind was fractured, overcome with too much trauma in too little time. 
Phil just looked more concerned at his words with his face becoming vaguely panicked once he looked at Eddie. He looked quickly up at Steve, down at Eddie, then back at Steve. “Is this Eddie Munson? The murderer Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson that has been on the run all week? Good golly Steve, I’m trying not to curse but what the fuck?”
Steve just looked at the pinched expression of pain that Eddie held and murmured, “he’s my friend.”
“Oh my god, Steve. Fine, we’ll deal with this later. Think you can walk to my squad car? I kinda damaged the front end but I’m sure it's semi-driveable. Powell’s tied up with the gates to hell opening up, I have plenty of time to take care of you.”
“Yeah, I can- I can walk,” and he could with the support of Phil. He felt his brother supporting both his and Eddie’s weight until they were deposited into the backseat of the patrol unit. 
“And uh, is the girl hiding in the bushes with you? She’s kinda been watching us for awhile. You might have a stalker, little bro.” He shined his flashlight over to the bush and saw a sandy bob duck behind the foliage. 
“Robin?” Steve muttered, still out of it and only on the verge of consciousness. 
“Buckley, is that you? Come on, you’re coming with us back to Steve’s place. Let’s go,” Phil waved the light between the two. He had both hands on his hips and stood like a disappointed middle-aged dad. “I don’t have time to be doing things willy-nilly. Let’s go!”
Robin poked her head out of the bushes and scooted gracelessly over to the car until she was able to bump elbows with Steve. They both relaxed a smidgen within the same space, the two brain cells reuniting after a stressful ten minutes apart.
Phil hopped in the driver’s seat and bumped his head against the steering wheel. What had this idiot gotten himself into now?
~*~*~*~
By the time Phil arrived at his house at the edge of the suburbs, all three kids were out cold in his backseat. He stood at the open back door for a moment before sighing and lugging first Robin, then Eddie, then Steve into his living room, huffing with exertion all the while. He would definitely have to cut back on the station donuts and start exercising again. Right after he dealt with the dying fugitive on his brother’s couch, the blood seeping through Steve’s shirt, and his brother’s unconscious best friend that was snoring atrociously. 
Jesus Christ. 
Well, he had plenty of practice with medical care from his EMT training so he got to work. He got the first aid kit out of the squad car and started with the murderous Munson. Phil didn’t know what had happened to these kids but it couldn’t be any good. Munson’s entire torso was torn apart like he’d been gnawed on by a wild animal. It wasn’t bleeding too bad but he was missing chunks of skin, so much so that Phil couldn’t sew him up with just sutures. Hell, this kid was going to need skin grafts. A lot of them. 
He put gauze on the worst of the wounds then cautiously stepped over to Steve. What he’d seen on Munson made him hesitant to look at the damage but surely it couldn’t be worse than that. Right? As soon as he lifted Steve’s shirt, he came immediately to two conclusions. 
1. Steve had a lot more chest hair than he did and that was totally unfair.
2. The wounds on Steve’s abdomen were deep, infected, and horrific. 
Just like with Munson, there was nothing to close. All he saw were missing chunks of skin and muscle that should have been in his sides. The marred remains were covered in grime and yellowish puss that made the entire room smell of infection. 
Fuck, he couldn’t help them here. He had to get them, all three of them because he wasn’t touching an unconscious girl for anything, to a hospital. But that begged the question; which hospital? Munson… Eddie was wanted all through the state of Indiana for at least three murders and an assault. If he took him to any nearby hospital, he would be arrested and surely there was more to the story if Steve was protecting him so much. He couldn’t let one of Steve’s only friends get arrested without hearing the story from the both of them. 
He had to take these three up to a hospital in Illinois. Chicago was roughly four hours away, he knew from his and Steve’s annual visits to their great aunt in Evanston. It was a risk, both for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive as well as hoping he survived that long of a drive, but his gut told him to trust his brother on this one. So that’s what he did. He loaded the three teens back into his patrol car and mumbled swears under his breath when he passed the “Leaving Hawkins” sign. He hoped to all that was mighty that he was making a good call. 
~*~*~*~
Steve woke up to familiar voices; one hushed and one screeching. 
“You kidnapped them?! You’re a cop, I thought you would help them but instead you drove them all the way to goddamn Chicago like some middle-aged pervert loser?” Steve came around to a loud argument between what sounded like Dustin and Phil. It was weird though because he’d never introduced the two. 
“Hey, listen here shithead, words hurt. I am not middle-aged, I’m 28. And why would I kidnap my own brother? I can legally take him anywhere, it's practically my birthright. I don’t have to go through all the work of kidnapping him.” Phil shook his head at Dustin.
“Stop trying to trick me, I know Eddie is an only child!”
“Munson?! I’m Steve’s big brother, you little gremlin. Can’t you see the resemblance?” He gestured between where Steve was groggily looking up at him and then back at himself. 
“No, but I can’t see anything past your outrageous mustache.” Steve saw Phil’s jaw drop and knew that Dustin had crossed a line. 
“You short fucker, that is too far! I take a lot of pride in this ‘outrageous mustache’,” Phil put air quotes around the offending remake before pointing an aggressive finger in Dustin’s direction. “I will absolutely take you off the visitation list, toothless. Do not test me.” 
“Don’t threaten me, I’ll report you to the authorities!” Dustin countered. 
“I am the authorities!” Phil dropped all decorum and screamed at practically the top of his lungs. 
Sensing enough was enough, Steve tried to push himself up to a sitting position before a burning in his sides caused him to fall back down. Both men (or one man and Dustin) stopped their squabbling and rushed to his sides.
“Steve, you’re hurt so don’t try to get up. Shit kid, let me get a nurse or something. You weren’t doing too hot.” With that Phil sprinted out of the room, presumably to the nurse’s station and Steve was left with Dustin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin. 
He looked blearily at all of them before asking the most important question, “where’s Eddie?”
They all parted to reveal Eddie lying in the bed next to him. His neck and chest were covered with bandages but his face looked peaceful. There were no cuffs on his wrists as Steve assumed there would be. He laid back again and let out a sigh. Everything was as it should be, he could finally relax.
“Um so Steve, don’t be mad but your brother can be really persuasive when he wants to be and you never introduced him as your brother so I just kind of assumed that we were getting captured by the police and that it was going to be so much worse than the Russians because I always thought Officer Callahan was kind of psycho. But then I woke up here and he bought me Cheetos so everything is fine. Except it's kind of not because you and Eddie have been out for a couple of days and I told Big Not-Harrington about the Upside Down and now he’s really worried. Why did you have to stay asleep so long, dingus? I missed you!”
Steve honestly zoned out when he heard “Cheetos” and only tuned back in when Robin, the usual physical affection-hater, threw herself on top of him in a hug. He withheld the grunt of pain and held her back just as hard. 
“What the hell just happened, bro? Like that was a lot of words, little bird lady. Woah.”
Steve didn’t know if he was hallucinating the long-haired surfer in a Hawaiian outfit or if Vecna had somehow managed to melt his mind after all but he had never been more confused in his life to see the new visitor make themselves known. 
“Who the fuck is that?” He muttered in absolute bafflement. 
Dustin sighed as he too wrestled a hug from Steve, “that’s Argyle. Come on, Steve. Keep up.”
“Like the sock pattern? How many drugs am I on right now?!”
~*~*~*~
“... and that’s kind of why I didn’t tell you about the Upside Down,” Steve finished from his seat beside Eddie, their hands tangled together as they both sat across from Phil. 
He looked at both of them with a completely deadpan stare. “Again, but the truth this time.”
Eddie huffed in annoyance. “We are telling you the truth, man! An evil wizard guy named Vecna-”
“Slash Henry, slash One,” Steve and Robin interjected in unison.
“-possessed four teenagers to end the world or something and broke their bodies apart with his mind. Then the angry mob thought it was me but I would never kill anyone, especially not Chrissy. She was always really nice to me and remembered my band from the talent show in middle school. And then we got stuck in Hell where evil demon bats ate our flesh and tentacles ripped through the earth. Then we saved Nancy from the evil mind melt powers by playing her favorite song. After that, we made a plan and she shot Vecna and killed him while Dustin and I were decoys where I was attacked.”
“Then I went back for Eddie and carried him out where you almost ran us over. The end,” Steve emphasized the finale with a deliberate nod of his still-aching head. 
Phil looked at them with the most exasperation Steve had ever seen in his life. He let out a pitying chuckle, his poor brother didn’t sign up for this. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
Phil's eyes rolled so hard that Steve could tell he saw stars. He could almost see the scream being prepared in his throat and couldn't gather enough strength to escape it.
"STEVEN MICHAEL HARRINGTON, WHAT THE MOTHERLOVING FUCK?!"
"Look Philly, I'll say it one more time then I'm done, okay? It first started way back when Will Byers went missing in 1983..."
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