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appleandsinnamon · 2 years ago
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I think Karkat's denizen is Hephaestus.
Hephaestus is the time denizen you might protest.
Abraxas is his denizen cuz that's the weakest and he said he had the weakest you might point out.
BUT: my reasoning is that we've not actually got a direct link to aspects when it comes to denizens. Vriska and Rose could both have Cetus cuz they're both Light but it's just as likely that they just have the fish denizen for the water planet. We know already denizens can be assigned to different aspects because we have Yaldabaoth given to both Caliborn and Dirk. there's no reason to assume that's an Exception except the angry cherub child claiming he got the hardest denizen cuz he's the best at gaming. We can't trust his judgement just like we can't trust Karkat's judgement.
Addendum: The Narrative, or Hussie's authorsona or what have you. Spoke directly with Caliborn to tell him he was given the toughest denizen for the best warriors. I don't think that necessarily makes it objectively true since he was basically bullying the guy but it does mean caliborn didn't come to that conclusion on his own.
This all being said, even if what the narrative tells Caliborn is objectively correct I still don't believe we can trust Karkat's judgement of his own capabilities. He is notoriously self loathing and hard on himself.
For all we know Karkat is really good at fighting and just Thinks he sucks and Caliborn sucks ass at fighting and just Thinks he's amazing. we don't know they were both 13 at the time of fighting their denizens. A thing you're not even Supposed to do. Echidna could be argued as the Space Aspect Denizen but Really her only job is to be the Frog Keeper, which happens to tie in with the space aspect for obvious reasons.
Now here's the point I'm trying to make. The space player brings the forge with them when they enter right. and It Seems like the Knight of a session is supposed to help the Space Player with their frog breeding. This much we have multiple cases of happening. Anyway we have one other denizen who interacts with the Forge, Hephaestus, apparently literally titled Lord of the Forge. Who can use it to repair anything once. and he was assigned to Dave, the knight of time. and sure he has a Time Hammer but that could just be land shit. Anyway. Hephaestus seems to be linked to the Forge and Knights seem to be linked to Space players. so Personally: I think Hephaestus is assigned to Knights.
This his been my rambly justification for a headcanon and/or a roundabout analysis post. take it with a grain of salt or incorporate it into your worldview I have no preference
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imissthefire · 1 year ago
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I genuinely can't remember if things have ever been this bad. I don't know if I can recover, I don't even know if I care to. Things just... have been an ongoing nightmare for over a year and doctors aren't listening to me and they're making it seem like the health complications that's made me the most suicidal I've been in a long time if not ever isn't a big deal. I can't stand this shit.
#idk i just#i've sabotaged nearly all of my friendships out of fear and misunderstandings#i've hurt people out of spite and i've been wanting nothing more than to just disappear#i long to die every single day and any time i try to tell my mum that i feel like shit she isn't really hearing me out#i love her and her heart is in the right and she's trying to help but this isn't the type of help i need#this isn't something i can improve on with positive thinking and gratitude journals#i want to die. i want to die every single day. whenever i take any of my meds i just look at the case and just... i could do it#i have something like 200 sleeping pills i discontinued after they werent working anymore but had just refilled. i have several odd old meds#among those are maybe 3 or 4 different antidepressants/antipsychotics plus a bunch of other things#it takes having to actively step away when i have to refill my weekly pill box from just dumping everything in that case into my mouth#i just. idk#i really don't know anymore#i don't think i even want to bother trying to come back from this. i've been begging the doctors and specialists i've been going to help me#and yet they just. give me a sorta :/ look and send me home and hope it resolves itself or that the meds that haven't helped suddenly will#i can't take it anymore#i just don't see a way out of this situation alive#this is just so fucking stupid#whatever yk? anyway gonna tag this so uh. sorry for the tone shift.#cw: suicide#cw: medical#cw: mental health#cw: gender dysphoria#nqp
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le-fruit-de-la-passion · 12 days ago
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At the Emperor’s Word -Viktor x Reader x Jayce
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Summary: Sneaking around the academy after hours sounds like a good idea right up until you get caught; then, it becomes a great idea.
Pairing: Dom!Viktor x Sub!Reader x Switch! Jayce
Word Count: 6K
Warning: Explicit (PwP)
Tags: Threesome, Kissing, Handjob, Voyeurism, Obedience Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Cuckolding, Edging, Degradation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Masturbation, Voice Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Lap Sex, Light Punishment Kink, Big Dick Viktor, Pet Names, Begging, Slight Choking, Vaginal Sex, Teasing, Rough Sex
Notes: A little fashionably late, but here is my absolutely filthy piece in celebration of Viktor’s birthday 🎉!! Viktor, my dearest, thank you for being my beloved husband and the devoted father of our many children. Glorious ovulation everyone ✌️💕.
You try to stifle a chuckle.
“Jayce, we can't-”
He's warm, so warm. You always feel yourself melt under his touch.
“C'mon, just a minute…” he insists.
You can't help but giggle breathlessly as he brings your hand into his pants, a large hand wrapping your fingers around his already half-hard cock. His body presses yours against the workbench, the firm wood digging into your lower back. His other hand slides against the fabric of your skirt, cushioning the strain, and not so subtly placing his palm over your ass.
He nuzzles his face against the top of your head, letting out a pleased groan when your fist starts moving. You suppress another laugh, trying your best to remain quiet, but you're positively enamoured of those sounds he makes when you touch him. Without even seeing his face, you know the content smile hasn't left his lips; he's so easy to please.
He's twitching under your grip, gripping your cheeks to the rhythm of the strokes. You quicken the pace, and he lets out a low moan that echoes through the empty lab.
This wing of the academy is always empty at this time of night, but there's something exciting about having to stay quiet. You can feel how close he's getting, the slight rutting of his hips a now familiar sign. His breath hitches, he's almost there, just a little more-
“I hope I am not interrupting anything.”
You yelp in surprise, pulling out your hand from Jayce's pants so fast your arm hits the wooden desk behind you. Jayce lets out a confused, frustrated shout at the sudden loss of friction as you wince in pain.
There, at the entrance of the lab, stands a looming figure, holding one of the large doors partially open. The light from the corridor obscures his face from the darkness of the lab; but there is no mistaking who this silhouette belongs to.
Viktor makes a single step forward, the metallic sound of his crutch against the tiled floor making you wince, as he lets the door close behind him. The room falls into obscurity again, the pale glow of the moon and the distant city lights only faintly shining through the windows.
“Ah, Viktor!” Jayce almost bellows in an overly cheery tone, walking backwards to put some distance between the two of you. “I- We were waiting for you! Got a bunch of interesting notes about today's experiments to show you !”
Viktor's face is blank, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in cold annoyance. He is neither amused nor does he seem the believe Jayce's jovial act. He nods curtly at the other man's pants, which are obviously, painfully unbuttoned. Jayce cringes as he quickly stumbles to reattach them, sliding the buttons in the wrong slits. You're frozen in place, eyes wide in fear, incapable of looking away from Viktor's frigid expression. But his focus is not on you; it's on Jayce.
“So,” he starts loudly, not bothering with whispers, “You barely spend any time working in the lab anymore. You have not even checked any of the upgrades I have suggested for the hexgates in the last month.” His voice is apathetic and dry, and his eyes narrow when he says the next words:
“And this is what you've been up to?”
Jayce opens his mouth like he's ready to argue, but the glare from his work partner seems to change his mind. He lowers his head silently, like a puppy being scolded. Viktor's golden pupils slide to you, and you now understand exactly why Jayce prefers looking at the floor.
“From Jayce I could expect,” Viktor remarks, the weight of his stare making you shrink, “but from you? I'll admit I'm disappointed.”
You bow your head in embarrassment. Your cheeks are burning, and you know there's no way to pretend like this is only a misunderstanding. You wish you could vanish on the spot.
Jayce, always the hero, comes to your defence quickly: “Viktor, it wasn't her idea-”
“I'm so sorry sir,” you interrupt him, stepping forward. You know Viktor well enough to recognize he's not a fan of poor excuses or avoiding accountability. “I swear this internship means the world to me. I know how many other students dream of working on hextech. It won't ever happen again.”
He seems pleased by your answer, although his expression stays perfectly stoic.
“That's good to hear,” he hums, walking closer to the both of you. He stops a few feet away, a ray of moonlight passing through a coloured beaker catching in his auburn hair. It illuminates him in an eerie, reddish glow, like he's not quite human, almost a phantom. “Well then, do not let me stop the both of you. Keep going, as you were.”
You have to assume he's joking, even if his tone sounds anything but, and you let out a confused, nervous giggle. But he isn't laughing, and neither is Jayce.
“Viktor…” there's uncertainty in the taller man's voice. It's not fear, or alarm, but he's apprehensive about something.
Viktor lets out a small sigh of lassitude, discontent evident. He looks at you again, with these amber eyes that make you feel like the world around you vanishes. Like there's nothing but him, and the words about to leave his lips.
“It would appear my partner is suddenly hard of hearing. Were my instructions unclear to you as well?”
You swallow. Your lips feel dry. Jayce is still unmoving next to you, still as a board, watching your interaction with his lab partner with an uneasy look.
“…No sir,” you mutter, just loudly enough for both men to hear. Viktor gives you the shadow of a smile.
“C'mon Viktor, you've humiliated her enough,” Jayce argues softly, raising his hand in a gesture of peace. But the other man has clearly decided Jayce hasn't gained his favour for the night, barely sparing him an icy glare.
“I do not believe I was talking to you,” he states matter-of-factly. The man of progress makes a strangled sound of protest, clearly insulted, but Viktor seems to have all but forgotten about him, now. It's back to only you and him, and the teasing smile dancing on his lips.
“He's always like this. Begging for attention,” Viktor tells you in a tone of confidence, like the topic of the conversation isn't standing less than a foot away from you with a baffled look on his face. “One has to wonder if he is compensating for something, but I figure you are in a good position to tell, right?”
You can’t prevent the corners of your mouth from lifting at the underhanded jab; Viktor seems emboldened by your reaction, voice louder when he continues:
“I certainly hope he's been more of a gentleman to you than this. Or does he only bend you over in our lab like an animal?”
The comment is enough to pull Jayce out of his stupor, and he raises his arms in protest.
“Hey, I'm not that-” he starts heatedly.
“Jayce.”
It's just his name; nothing else. You've said it to him hundreds of times. But there's something different in the way Viktor says it, the slow pronunciation of the syllables, the hardness of the accent, the deepness of the voice. Whatever it is, Jayce is compelled by it just as much as an order. He stops right in his tracks, his arms falling uselessly back to his side, like a dog listening to a command.
Viktor hums in approval, but his stare is no less punishing.
“I was not talking to you. When it is your turn to speak, you will know.”
Jayce's mouth is slightly agape, his eyes wide, an expression you can't quite read on his face; but he obeys. He stands there like a puppet, unmoving, drinking Viktor's words. You can't help but notice the still present strain in his badly buttoned pants.
The thinner man's gaze softens once more as it falls on you. He makes another step forward; close enough that you could reach him with your hand if you tried. He looks at you encouragingly: “Answer the question, sweet thing.”
The room feels like it's shrunk to barely a tenth of its size. Your breath has become shallow without you noticing. But isn't quite from fear anymore.
“T-twice in the lab before,” you stutter, the embarrassment of recounting your adventures to your direct supervisor burning your cheeks. The arousal in the air is undeniable now, and he's visibly aware of it. “And in the library. Once in my bedroom.”
Viktor hums pensively, studying your answer. It almost feels like you're passing some kind of final exam; the world's most sexually charged exam, undoubtedly.
“So he is aware of the basic notion of privacy behind closed doors, then,” Viktor concludes, the thin smirk now fully on display. “Who would have thought.”
He doesn't look away from your eyes when he finally speaks to the other man again.
“Jayce. How close are you?”
You glance at the taller engineer; he's started palming himself through his pants, his breathing irregular. His hair is dishevelled from your previous activities, and his cheeks are a bright crimson against his caramel skin. He's usually so dominating, on top of things, handling you like a chiffon doll up and down his dick with that cocky smile of his. You've never seen him like this; flustered, desperate, seeming so small despite all of his stature.
“Pretty close,” Jayce almost moans out, voice raspy for exertion. He's biting his own bottom lip so tightly it might start bleeding. “Just a little more.”
Viktor finally gives him a slight smile, though it's dripping with self-satisfaction. He's close enough to you that you can smell him now, that you could brush away the wayward strands of hair on his forehead. His face has been marked by the passage of time and countless hours of work, heavy bags under his eyes, cheeks almost gaudy. And yet, there is no sign of him ever losing control of this moment. Nothing could change the hypnotic power of his eyes, the controlling tone of his voice, or the subjugating effect of his slightly crooked smile.
“I suppose we should oblige,” he suggests lightly, his free hand brushing your cheek. His fingers are thin and lithe, cold against your skin, and you lean into the touch. He gives you a moment to pull away, if you want to; but you don't.
The kiss is slow at first, gentle, just the way little girls dream their prince charming might one day give them. He lets you decide when to pick up the speed, and you initiate after a few seconds by slipping your tongue in his mouth. It's messier, now, teeth clashing every now and then, saliva pooling where your lips meet. He tastes nothing like Jayce, his flavour of dark coffee and fresh mint; Viktor is sweet, like milk and honey, like a slice of lemon cake in the summer heat.
When he pulls away for air, you feel like time has started to move once again, as if you've just emerged from a dream. He's smirking confidently, still, but not entirely unfazed; his pale cheeks have turned pink, his breathing is slightly laboured, and there are traces of smudged saliva on the corners of his mouth.
A foreign whine makes you both turn towards Jayce, who is clearly on the edge of orgasm. He's abandoned any pretence of innocence, his cock fully pulled out of his pants as he rubs it furiously, eyes locked on the two of you.
“Stop,” Viktor only says.
Jayce groans in frantic frustration, slowing his rhythm but incapable of removing his hand. He's harder than you've ever seen him, his tip almost a painful red.
“No, no, c'mon V, don't do this. Please keep going,” he begs, looking at you with pitiful eyes, pleading silently. You want to touch him, to let him touch himself. But you know it's not your decision; it's Viktor's. And he's made his ruling, so you're not about to get on your research director's bad side again.
The head engineer offers a proud smile at your lack of answer to Jayce, the kind he usually reserves for reports submitted in advance or ingenious schematics. You recognize him more like this, strict, but never unappreciative of your efforts. He never forgets to slip a word of encouragement when you're stuck, never hesitates to reread your notes with you when the math isn't quite adding up. The cold anger seems to have fully passed, and now only the teasing, taunting satisfaction remains.
“I believe you may have forgotten that as per her contract, she is my assistant. Meaning she is under my direct command.”
He's looking at Jayce now, whose hand is still wrapped around his length, but unmoving. His cock is twitching in his grasp, desperate as the rest of him. His whole body shifts to the rhythm of his respiration, large shoulders slumped in defeat. Viktor doesn't turn to you when he asks you the following question, choosing instead to stare deeply into Jayce's citrine eyes.
“Is that not correct?”
You don't hesitate with your answer this time.
“Yes sir.”
His focus is still on the other man, but he strokes your cheek again with his left hand. He rests his weight comfortably on his crutch, like he doesn't have a single worry in the world in this moment.
“Good girl.”
You feel yourself tighten at that. That voice could tell you to find a way to harness the power of the goddamn stars before figuring out the hexcore, and you would comply.
“Jayce, could you bring the chair over here? The larger one.”
Viktor points with his chin towards a wooden chair with a flat backing, in a corner of the lab. Jayce looks back and forth between the chair and his partner, like he's unsure if he's joking or testing him. When no additional directions come from Viktor, he sighs in discomfort, clearly disgruntled, unceremoniously shoving himself back in his pants to go fetch the chair. The thinner man hums in appreciation when he brings it back and places it next to him.
“Thank you, Jayce.”
He sits, using his crutch for balance as he shifts slightly to find a comfortable position. His hand leaves the burgundy handgrip, instead settling on the metallic upper section. He looks like the king of a forgotten kingdom, resting on his wooden throne, sceptre in hand. You and Jayce, his obedient consorts, can't do anything but await his next command.
It comes in the form of a simple motion of his hand, beckoning you closer. You only stop when your legs bump against his, standing above him. His fingers caress the fabric of your skirt studyingly, like he's committing the feel to memory. They eventually catch on the waistband, tugging it questioningly. His golden eyes look up at you, the colour of the sunrise etched in his pupils. You nod earnestly in approval, and he lowers the skirt down until it reaches your knees, letting it fall to the floor. You're suddenly very thankful you dressed up this morning knowing you would see Jayce.
The design is simple, a line of flowery lace hugging your hips, and curving to the shape of your ass. It's the kind of thing Jayce loves; he'll even make you keep your panties on sometimes as he fucks you, just pushing the bottom of the fabric to the side to fit himself inside you. It's the lace he can’t resist, you think, the way it barely covers anything and rests against your skin like a present for him to unwrap.
It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Viktor, but you can tell he’s still appreciative, cold hand sneaking under the lace to squeeze a cheek firmly.
“This is fucking torture,” Jayce groans in complaint, standing still just barely a few feet away. He's obviously aware he's not supposed to interfere with the two of you, or to touch himself for relief, but the glistening sweat on his forehead and down the prominent vein on his neck indicates how difficult this is for him.
“And you should know better than to have sex next to a table covered in explosive materials and one-of-a-kind prototypes,” Viktor retorts, sparing him a slightly displeased glance. “What if you had broken something irreplaceable?”
Jayce seems genuinely embarrassed by that; he may not show it as often these days with how busy he is, but you know he still cares about the academy's research and the state of hextech.
“I'm sorry Viktor. I wasn't thinking…”
“I am aware you were not thinking. And that is exactly the issue. You forget how much of our profession relies on thinking, not talking.”
It's crystal clear that's going to be the end of the conversation, for now. Viktor's fingers slide to your hip, following the shape of the panties until your inner thigh. A small tap with a single digit tells him everything he needs to know.
“Look at this,” he smiles, taunting but affectionate, “Already so wet just from a kiss. Or was it the sound of my voice that did it, I wonder.”
Both, it's both, and every single thing that has happened in this lab since he entered it. You tremble when his finger moves slowly against the damp fabric, not quite oversensitive, but a little on edge.
“I, um-” Jayce hesitantly speaks up from the side. “I fingered her a bit earlier. I… think she should be alright?”
This time, Viktor doesn't reprimand him for talking; he seems surprisingly pleased, eyes boring into yours for confirmation.
“Is that so?” he exhales softly.
You nod breathlessly. Why is it always so difficult to talk when he's studying you like this?
The teasing finger slips under the fabric, gently making its way into you. You let out an involuntary sound of eagerness as he verifies if you've been loosened up, analyzing you with the precision of a machine. He removes the digit with a crooked grin when he judges you've passed, and you whine at the loss; it was barely anything in the first place, but it soothed the feeling of total emptiness in your core.
“Color me impressed,” Viktor declares, half genuine, half mocking. “I do not think I have ever seen Jayce do his work in advance.”
Said man groans in defeated complaint:
“You're turning her against me.”
Viktor lets out a wry snort:
“You do that well enough on your own. You touched her without even making her cum?”
He pats your pussy comfortingly, and you almost sing to the feeling. Your panties get lowered swiftly, and you discard them with little decorum. Viktor's assertive expression has softened enough that you feel emboldened enough to try to join in the banter:
“Jayce thinks foreplay is watching him get undressed. He's not exactly an expert.”
Viktor laughs at that, a charming and genuine sound, and you feel yourself glow with pride. The topic of mockery doesn't seem as pleased, his cheeks red, his lips thin:
“See? Told you. You've already worked your fucking magic on her.”
Viktor starts unbuttoning his pants, the teasing smile still etched on his angular features. His fingers work nimbly, swiftly, with the precision only the best engineer in Runeterra could muster in such circumstances.
“It is not magic, Jayce. Simply talent and practice.”
He does quick work of lowering his pants, just enough to expose his underwear. The confirmation that he is indeed not as unbothered as he still may seem is poking through the fabric. Judging by the defined outline and the sizeable tent, you can instantly confirm a hypothesis you've had since the start of your internship: the Assistant to the Dean of the Academy is packing.
He's not unaware of it either; his golden eyes follow the movement of your own, playfully examining your reaction. It's different from Jayce's endearing ego and constant need for praise; Viktor knows his worth, but he revels in the admiration, the stares filled with awe and devotion.
If Jayce needs to feel worthy, then Viktor needs to feel wanted.
He finally frees his cock from the restrive fabric, letting the member bob slightly. He's not even fully hard, and he's huge, the length imposing, the bulbous tip a pleasant shade of pink. The skin is as pale as the rest of him, blueish veins marking it like porcelain; only a few well-trimmed auburn curls at the base remind you he's not sculpted from actual marble.
Jayce lets out a low, tentatively playful whistle as the other man’s slender fingers wrap around the shaft.
“Flattery will not get you far, Jayce,” Viktor comments absentmindedly. “You and I both know this is nothing you have not seen before.”
He moves his hand in an open, loose fist, evidently without any real intent to finish himself off; not with the way he's made you stand right above him, not with how he's looking right at you. You swallow with difficulty, licking your lips for moisture. The energy between the two of you is tangible, electric, as he keeps working himself tantalizingly slow.
“Darling. Sweet thing. Do you want this?”
You nod vigorously, the words stuck in your throat again.
“Tell me, then. Please. Tell me how much you want this,” he requests, and it's hard to tell whether that's an order or a plea with the way his voice lowers, just barely louder than a whisper.
You feel like you're high, your mind a jumbled mess of adrenaline and lust. There are no sentences that could possibly express how he's got you under his spell. How many times have you imagined a scene like this, in only a year of being his assistant? The stolen glances, the passing touches, you had no reason to believe they were anything more than figments of your lustful imagination. The very idea that he could be the one doubting your interest in him is laughable, and yet his gaze is probing you for a response, his lips parted with bated breath.
“I want this. I want you,” you swear to him, staring back so deeply into the amber irises there could not be a single question left. “Please, sir.”
You bring a hand to the crook of his neck; the coolness of the skin under your palm, the sharpness of his collarbone against your fingertips, the beating of his heart below your thumb. He has to know this is real.
Viktor smiles slightly, the little mole above his lips shifting alongside his dimples.
“I would ask you to be weary of my right leg, then. It is not quite as strong as it used to be, although that is not saying much.”
You've never seen the emotion that crosses Viktor's face in that moment, gone in under a second. It's so subtle one might have missed it; bitterness, regret, defeat. The tragedy of a man brilliant enough to change the whole world, but who wouldn't live long enough to see it. If Janna truly watches over the lost children of Zaun, then she is turning a blind eye to the brightest of them all.
You could say something, try and comfort him, but you choose not to. There's nothing that can be said to change things; there’s only the present, and there are only actions.
You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning in unison. You can't help the array of whines escaping your pinched lips. The heat from where your bodies meet is overwhelming, the stretch delightful and filling. He's not fully inside you and you're already wondering how much more you can take. It's dizzying, the pain making you grit your teeth, but you persist, fingers clenching on the back of the chair. When you've fully bottomed out, you let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Viktor soothingly pats your back, and you hang on to him for dear life, wrapping both arms around his back.
“Are you alright?” he whispers softly, worry evident in his voice. You want to answer, but you're quite certain if you open your mouth you'll only get confused gibberish out, because fuck, he's filling you so much it's hard to even think. You shift your grip to his shoulder blades, trying to anchor yourself, absentmindedly noticing the cool feeling of metal under his uniform. You trace the intricate patterns with your fingers to ground yourself, recognizing the shapes of bolts and screws, as you feel your breathing slowly even out
“I’m ok,” you eventually manage to exhale. “I just- need a second“
Viktor makes an understanding hum, his hand caressing the valley of your back like you're doing with his, his strokes mellow. He moves his head slightly to look at Jayce behind you, throwing him an irritated glare.
“So much for your preparations,” he points out with irony.
Without needing to see him, you know exactly the kind of disgruntled face Jayce is making: “She only needs three to fit me, you're just stupid big.”
“I can move,” you interrupt them, the pain now only a vague tingle; all that remains is the yearning for him.
You place both hands on the back of the chair to balance your weight, being careful of Viktor's weaker leg. You bring yourself up slowly, tantalizingly, before letting yourself fall back on his length. There's no other way to describe the broken moan you release than dirty.
“Eh,” Viktor remarks slyly, groaning when you start moving again. “S-she does not seem to think it’s stupid.”
You fuck yourself on him with abandon, fast, rough, not caring of how debauched you may look. If anything, Jayce seems very appreciative if his moans and curses are any indication.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants somewhere behind you, too far to feel his warmth, but close enough to hear he's pumping himself to the same rhythm you're riding Viktor. “You're doing such a good job taking him, princess…”
He's truly begging when he calls the other man's name again, delirious from the unending edging:
“V, please, make her turn to my side, I have to see her face.”
Viktor's hooded eyes bare into yours, his raspy pants echoing through your head as you thrust up and down his length.
“Do you think he is truly sorry, now?” he asks, the ever-teasing glimmer in his pupils shining despite the clear physical effort from his body.
You can't even remember what Jayce has to be sorry for; you whimper a positive ‘huh-uh’. Viktor nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck for a moment, gently bitting the sweaty skin in a surprising hint of possessiveness, but he does finally agree to free Jayce of his torture.
“I will trust your good judgment. You can come here, Jayce.”
You yelp in surprise when two strong but familiar hands suddenly grab you at the waist and turn you around, almost pulling you off Viktor's cock and into a messy kiss. The slight tickle of Jayce's stubble is pleasantly itchy, his tongue desperately searching for more of your taste. You moan wantonly against his mouth when you feel Viktor twitch inside you, but the man under you doesn't seem fully pleased: a thinner but firm hand brings you back against his chest, and he throws Jayce an irritated glare.
“I give you an inch and you take a mile. Typical,” the older man accuses him with a bitter tone, his accent more pronounced, rigid. “You do not get to touch, and you are only allowed to cum on her.”
His lips come to your ear in the ghost of a kiss, velvety smooth:
“Would that be agreeable to you, sweet thing?”
You just know you want to keep going, really; so you do exactly that as a reply.
This position is harder for movement, since without the support of the chair’s back, you would have to rely on putting pressure on Viktor's knees. Thankfully, with Jayce’s proximity, you can use his muscled chest for balance. He certainly doesn't mind being used like this if the expression he’s wearing is any sign: his entire face is crimson, his eyes heavy, laboured breaths escaping his abused lips. He's still following your pace, pumping up and down every time your ass meets Viktor's hip bones. It has to be painful by now, with the way he's been rubbing himself raw for so long without release, but he's either too entranced to care or getting off the burning friction
“So obedient,” Viktor praises you, his free hand moving to your lower stomach, long fingers digging gently into your skin; you wonder if he’s trying to feel himself move inside you. “We might still be able to make a top student out of you. What do you think, Jayce?”
Much like yourself, Jayce seems beyond the capacity for words. He's looking at you like he wants to devour you, like he wants to take you off Viktor's lap and fuck you right on the floor. But you both know he wouldn't do that without Viktor's approval, at the risk of getting on the other man’s bad side again.
Viktor's cock hits a peculiarly sensitive spot inside you and you cry out from the sudden shock, loling out your tongue involuntarily. Jayc makes a strangled sound at the sight, and it visibly takes all his self-control to not shove himself into the warmth of your throat.
“For once, I cannot get you to talk when I actually want you to,” Viktor tsks in disapproval, but it's clear he's not frustrated; rather, he seems to enjoy the trance-like silence Jayce has been reduced to.
“F-fuck, I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen,” the younger man sputters, delirious, his fist moving with a frenzied pace. “I can see your cock in and out of her every time she bounces like that. Her tits look so good…”
You recognize that slight pitch in his voice, the rumbling in his throat; he's close again.
“What else?” Viktor hums, not letting him have a moment of respite. You can hear ragged gasps next to your ear, parts of heaved curses indicating he too is nearing his end, but he's still firmly insistent on being the one in control of it all.
Jayce whines in struggle, but it's hard to hear with how loud the sound of your own moans echo in the room. You've been using Viktor's cock to hit that one spot over and over, chasing your high without restraint, the familiar clenching of your walls maddening.
“She looks all fucked out. Like she -fuck- like she's so close to cumming around you…”
The other man seems pleased by that if the way you feel him twitch inside you is evidence. “Good observations,” he replies in playful irony. “Perhaps there is still a scientist in there.”
The hand on your stomach leaves its comfortable position to wrap around your neck, the pressure light, just barely restricting airflow.
“Sweet thing,” he calls out to you once more. “You can pick up the pace a little. I want you to never look away from Mr Talis's eyes.”
It's a hard request to fulfill considering how badly you want to squint your eyes shut in the agonizing pleasure; but you try your very best, unshed tears of exhaustion starting to pool and blurying your vision.
The sight of you so desperately trying to obey Viktor's order to focus on nothing but him is what finally undoes Jayce, who lets out one final loud curse:
“Shit-!”
He cums all over your academy blouse with a shout, little droplets reaching as high as your chin. It barely takes three more thrusts against Viktor for you to join him, crying tears of relief as an intense wave of bliss rocks your entire body. With your limbs reduced to nothing but putty, your head falls forward in exhaustion, thankfully stopped by Jayce's strong torso; the fabric of his dress shirt feels like satin against your face, burying your sobs.
Viktor takes a moment longer to reach his peak, fucking into your exhausted body with concentration, thick eyebrows furrowed. It's too much, too rough, and you throw your head back to whine against his neck pitifully. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath before he finally unloads into you with a long groan.
“Shh, good girl,” he compliments you soothingly as his warmth settles into your core, kissing your neck leisurely in praise. “You have done so well.”
He bends your head back slightly more to catch your mouth in an open-mouth kiss, slow and tired, sloppy from your mutual exhaustion. Jayce groans, his hand somehow still on his softened cock, pumping it lazily; his stamina is utterly unbelievable.
“Okay, actually, this might be the hottest thing I've ever seen,” he comments hoarsely, absorbing the way your tongue dances with Viktor's with every inch of his capacities.
Viktor concludes the wet kiss with a small peck on your lips, smiling as your head falls back on his shoulder in fatigue, your eyes shut close.
“Because you managed to get yourself all over her?” he throws back at Jayce, as calm and confident as if he hadn't just made you go through the most intense orgasm of your life. “Your ego will never cease to impress me.”
The stars behind your eyelids are still spinning; you weakly try to move an arm, finding it almost completely unresponsive.
“Sir?” you ask, and you almost don't recognize your voice with how rough and broken it resonates in the empty lab.
“I think we have reached the point where you are allowed to call me by my name in private,” Viktor amusedly hums close to you.
“Viktor, I…”
You want to open your eyes, to look into his golden eyes again and see the way he looks right after sex, but they're sealed shut from how worn out you are. “…I don't think I can move right away.”
That earns you a content chuckle from one man and a disbelieving laugh from the other.
“Jayce,” Viktor asks, now with a tone of request rather than command, “be a gentleman for once and carry her to her bedroom. The poor thing is exhausted.”
Jayce snorts, for once tonight the one hitting back with irony:
“And whose fault is that?”
Viktor’s fingers, still loosely wrapped around your throat as lightly as feathers, slide down to massage the tender muscles at the base of your nape. You moan brokenly into the touch. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.
“Undeniably yours. I am not the one sneaking around in the academy for nefarious purposes,” Viktor retorts playfully, tiredness noticeable but skillfully hidden in his voice. “But if you were to have a bad idea like this once more… I believe I can offer you my services as her supervisor. For both your sakes.”
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kryptznnn · 2 months ago
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♛- Could've fooled me
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
➸ INTERESTS; -timeskip/pro-hero!katsuki bakugo x f!reader
➸ BACKGROUND; - Little drabble/blurb about Bakugo, and how much he claims to hate you. Considering you as someone who's nothing, but an obstacle for him, but like all obstacles you constantly get in his way, and he loves it.
➸ WARNINGS; - wc.1k, mentions of hatred/dislike, indecisiveness, romantic and sexual tension, smut, p in v, oral sex f!recieving, masturbation m!engaging, kissing, orgasms (both f and m engaging), mentions of arguing, hating/disliking to liking/loving relations.
➸a.i; - omg new blurb everyone wake up eek, working on 3 masterlists rn so sad eugh, but i hope u guys enjoy.
༊࿐ ͎. 。˚ ° ⊹ ˚. ༊࿐ ͎. 。˚ ° ⊹ ˚.
Katsuki hates how much you tail or tag around him, no matter how many times he's told you to leave him alone you just keep coming back.
Katsuki also hates the amount of attention you attract whenever you're out, whether a small story the girls are bringing up about random people approaching you, or even if he's stuck in a situation with you himself. He knew better than to bring it up to your attention through an argument though, you can't help who you attract. He just considers you lucky that he's always there at the right times.
He despises how kind you are, it almost seems as if you do it to mock him. You're not nice, but kind, kind to random people you've met, people you've had issues with and even him. It bothers him more like anything before, maybe it's because he believes he's the only person that should be getting that attention.
He isn't fond of how much you two share in common aside from your opposite attitudes. It's almost as if you two were meant to clash with one another. Arguments would always disperse between the two of you, and honestly, it fired him up in a way even he wouldn't expect.
He hates how he's back at his place now, his sweatpants pulled down to his thighs as his wifebeater was now rolled up over his belly button. His breath hitched as he was 'relieving himself of his anger' from your argument prior. He wasn't sure if he was going crazy or was just too caught up in the moment, but when he pictured you on your knees with your mouth wide open it sent him straight to climax, huffing and grunting softly to himself.
Don't get Katsuki started on the entire phrase others repeat to him. 'Opposites attract', he finds it a bunch of bullshit, he hates how often he hears it. Even if whatever he felt for you was what everyone else thought there's no way it was reciprocated. From all of his messes he had to clean up (like last night's mess) there was no way he'd take the risk.
He hates how he wasn't able to realize it sooner, your small remarks and subtle comments were pointers. You did reciprocate whatever he was feeling towards you, and he knew that by how much you were babbling underneath him while he fucked you.
Katsuki loves how you feel around his cock, it's like you're trying to suck him in any deeper from the inside. There wasn't any deeper, his breath was ragged as you were a moaning mess by how his tip kissed your cervix with every thrust.
"Katsuki please, I- ah, I can't" you cry. Oh, he loves how much you try to fight him over it, it's practically making him harder than he was. He could tell you were close; no one just denies their pleasure if an orgasm isn't close.
He's quick to lift up one of your legs, pressing down on the back of your thigh as he pistols himself within you now, your cries getting louder as your clawing at his shoulders and back now. He hates how easily whipped you are for him, one minute you invite him into your place and the next your spread out on your couch.
He hates that you attempt to cover your mouth while he's drilling you so quickly, you're sure that the condom he has on will either snap or come off. He's quick to grab your hands and hold them over your head with his much larger one.
He doesn't like how good you feel now, because now he's getting vocal. He hates being vocal more than anything, and with the other girls he's fucked it hadn't been a problem until right now with you. The way you were biting and clawing at him made something in the pit of his stomach flutter, maybe it was something he ate.
He loves how you kiss him when you come undone, biting his lip softly as you whine and twitch through your orgasm. His thrusts becoming sloppy after your orgasm. You now applied pressure and spoke him through his own orgasm, and even clamped down on him, and it wasn't helping.
He likes the fact that he's doing this to you, that this moment is being shared between the two of you. At first when you two started you admitted out of shame this was your first time, he only looked at you in awe, to him this was an honor.
He hated how much you squirmed and moved around when he ate you out when you started. His tongue never leaving your clit as he dug his fingers deep into you, one by one. He wanted to keep you still, he didn't like how you pushed and turned, but it was all worth it when he made you cum, the first time out of many for the night.
"Ha, are you close? Your- mmm, you're going faster" you moan into him, as he buries his head within your neck and nods slightly. He isn't a man of many words, the two of you knew this already, but for you he wanted to. Maybe the thought was stupid or funny to ridicule him for, but he wishes for this moment to never end, and he hates that.
Katsuki was just on the edge, no words were shared between you two, more importantly him, as he climaxed. His grunts and breathing were as heavy as ever as he cradled into your shoulder, you only rubbed his back and moaned along with him, easing him through it. He hated how you babied him, even though you were younger than him.
Maybe he hated the fact that he secretly loved what you were doing, you weren't able to see it, but after the high faded he smiled. Katsuki smiled at the fact of how happy he was to share such a moment like this with you, but yet again it was going to take a lot to even get a confession from him.
As of now, not even Katsuki Bakugo himself could tell you whether or not he still hated you. Hating someone for who they are and hating someone for what they do are two different things, but maybe it wasn't even you. Katsuki hates how he feels for you because it drives him off in such an animalistic way, he just can't ever get enough of you.
And he loves it.
༊࿐ ͎. 。˚ ° ⊹ ˚. ༊࿐ ͎. 。˚ ° ⊹ ˚.
✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn
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a-spes · 2 months ago
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| DEVIOUS LIES — Part three (8.929 words).
| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It may have been two years since the events, but you still can't stop think about what you've lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.
“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further.  Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity. What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain.
| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader (platonic), Other Avengers x R. Angst with comfort, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, severe injuries, no happy ending.
| Author's notes — This is the last part of the "Devious Lies" serie, and I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).
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Many people would say that you are not a hero, not anymore. You have lost this title years ago, the day you revealed your true face to the world by cheating on Natasha —; how could they trust someone with their lives when that person can’t even remain loyal to their girlfriend? A hero is not a human, it is a perfect being that exists for the sole purpose of saving the world, and making children dream. You exist only to give hope to the population, but there is none once they discover that you are just like any of them, someone full of flaws, and failures, just a mess —; just human. 
Who knows the horrible things you might have done in the past, or the numerous lies you could have said to twist the reality? Not them, because they know nothing of the truth behind your departure, but they were still convinced that you were a monster who had been lying to them all this time, and it was too late to undo their hatred. A few days had been enough for rumours to spread, suddenly everyone had a story to share that proves how wicked you were. These stories have slowly replaced those of your greatest achievements, the many times you saved the world now forgotten in favor of all the little things you did wrong.
And you know these stories by heart because you have read about them in newspapers, heard them on television and in cafés. Wherever you go, these rumors follow you, they stick to your skin like an obsessive ex that won’t let you go, even after several years. The people never forget, nor they forgive.
Yet, none of them had the courage to hate you to your face. No, it was always behind your back, a bunch of glances they thought were discreet and whispers as soon as you turned around. You might not be their hero anymore, but you haven’t lost your abilities, and they are aware that you could easily kill any of them in less than a minute. But, instead of letting the anger consumes you, you pretended to not see the fear in their eyes, mixed with hatred. Except that, the longer this situation lasted, the more difficult it became for you to ignore their hostility. You would lie if you said it didn’t bother you to see these emotions replace the admiration that used to sparkle in their eyes.
If you are being honest, you have thought about it, about killing some of them. These thoughts come to your mind more times that you care to admit —; it would be so easy to snap their necks so you will never hear their hateful whispers again.
What do you have to lose anyway?
Nothing you haven’t already. At worst, they will send you in prison, but to your exhausted mind the idea sounded more tempting than repellent. Sometimes, you think about it as a sweet dream, and it brings you some peace —; if you were in prison, you would be blessed with ignorance. If you were in prison, they would have a real reason to use these slurs. If you were in prison, you would eventually be where you deserve to be. But, no matter how many times you thought about it, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and so, instead, you shut yourself away in your crappy apartment, where you could no longer harm anyone.
—   —   — 
“But you are still a hero,” the man told you. It was months ago, almost a year, and it was the first time you had seen Fury since the events that led you to take a break. 
A break that was coming to an end, and that you were desperately trying to prolong. Unfortunately, the man is as stubborn as you are, and he is determined to convince you to return to the field. He needs you, and that is obvious, even though those words haven’t crossed his lips. You can feel his desperation. 
You disagree with him. 
You are not a hero, and he definitely doesn’t need you. There are dozens of agents more talented than you are, dozens of promising, and less controversial, souls who deserve a chance. He should better abandon you now, and let you rot in your apartment, because he will be disappointed sooner or later. But you didn’t tell him that. Instead, you stayed quiet, because the words were stuck in your throat.
“Don’t tell me that you are that kind of agent?” he asked, to fill the silence. The tone of his voice had changed slightly. There was something petty about it, something that is crawling under your skin —; it is the disappointment that his words carry. Yet, you have no idea what he is talking about —; “that kind of agent”? The worlds held no meaning to you, but you could still feel that they didn’t bode well, and that you didn’t want to be that kind of agent. You can see his eyebrows rise in anticipation of an answer you can’t give him.
“What kind?” you asked back, without any conviction, just because you know that is what he expects. You accompany these words with a sigh.
You are not in the mood for this kind of game. You only want one thing, and it is to go back to your apartment, to slip back into the comfort of your sheets and stay there for days to come. In fact, you may never leave them ever again. That is the only place where you can ignore the world, where all your worries disappear along with the rest. The only place where you do not need to be human, or pretend to be strong, where you can be a mess, and no one would be here to judge.
You were really not comfortable at the idea of coming here, to Fury’s office, at the S.H.I.E.L.D. 's headquarters, and being there makes the feeling even worse. He promised you that no one would know, but how could he be sure? The mere thought that one of them could see you there makes you nervous, and prevents you from concentrating.
What if it happens?
What if, despite Fury’s promises, you run into one of them?
You have no idea what you might tell them if it happens. Is it better to beg for their forgiveness, or would it be too much? You bet they wouldn’t even listen to you, anyway —; they haven’t in the past, why would it be different a year later?
Maybe they won’t even acknowledge you, and you should probably do the same —; but wouldn’t it be worse? You are not sure that you could handle this possibility, that you could walk by the people that once were your family as if they were complete strangers.
Maybe it is better if they decide to scream —; that is what a part of you is craving for, no matter how twisted it can be. Because, if they scream, if they still hate you, it means that they care, right? No one would take some of their time and energy to yell at someone they don’t care about, right? Because it wouldn’t make sense.
“The kind that does it for fame,” he replied, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. It was so intense that it made you want to disappear. You hate it, the way he looks at you, as if he knows all the secrets of your soul, and so you are fidgeting in your seat, unable to stay still because of your nerves.  
“No, I am not,” you sighed the words that you knew the man was expecting you to say, falling right into his trap. You are conscious of it, but you are too exhausted to fight, and it is way much easier to give the man what he wants.
Yet, your voice is full of uncertainty —; does it make you a bad person to want to stop helping people? At least, that is what he seems to be suggesting, and maybe he is not wrong. Maybe the only reason you want to stop is because you are selfish —; anyone with your skills wouldn’t hesitate to save the world. But not you, not anymore. Why? When did you become one of the bad guys, one of those who don’t care about others?
You want to tell him — to yell at him — that it is not about lost celebrity, that it was about being hated by almost every soul living on earth, but the words get stuck in your throat —; what’s the difference, after all? Are you really gonna let people die because they do not like you, is that the kind of person you became? No, it is not, and it will never be.
“Does that mean I can count on you?” he asked, and you answered with a murmured yes, because that is what he wants to hear, and because you only want this conversation to end. From the very moment you sat on this chair, you have been eyeing the exit, and you are more than willing to give the man what he wants in exchange for the right to leave.
—   —   —
“I am a hero,” you whispered in your breath, “and that’s what heroes do,” you added, repeating the sentence once more. You were trying to find a little bravery in this mantra, the one you needed to push your limits a little further. 
Yet, all you find in these words is deep despair, because a part of you knows that they are not true — and you are not a hero. Not anymore. You tried to believe Fury’s lies. You wanted to believe them, and deceive yourself because it gave you a bit of hope, a reason to carry on, but the illusion couldn’t last for eternity.
What’s a hero when they are hated by the whole world? A villain. It has been several years since you lost the title of hero. It is not about your great successes anymore, it is about all the mistakes you have ever made, the ones that make you detestable in the public’s eyes. Now, you are just an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and a controversial one at that. You are the rotten apple that the direction doesn’t really know what to do with. They might desperately need you — or, more accurately, your skills — but they do not want the world to discover that they didn’t fire you despite what they had announced to ease the minds.
Nevertheless, you had agreed to pretend, and to play Fury’s little games, because you didn’t know what else to do. You have been a little lost since you left the team, and the missions you were regularly sent on were a good distraction, but it has been months now, and you do not have the energy to pretend anymore.
Once this mission is over, the first thing you are going to do is to tell the man that it is over, you are quitting — yeah, you are going to leave the agency, and start a new life. The idea sounds appealing, and warms you heart with an emotion you thought you had forgotten; a will to live. You have waited long enough. You are not sure what you are going to do yet, but you know that it will be better — anything would be better than your current life. It will be a second chance, and a real one this time. Maybe you will change your name, and your face, and so you could be anyone you want to be — someone that no one hates. 
But, for now, the only thing you want is some rest. Slowly, your limbs become numb and, soon enough, you are not able to walk anymore, the ground disappears beneath your feet and you collapse into the snow, your legs unable to support the weight of your body. 
Maybe that is your second chance, you thought. Maybe the afterlife will be gentle.
It is so tempting to just close your eyes, to let the cold soothe your pain, and take all your worries away. You don’t know how long you have been walking, wandering around, waiting for help that may never come — probably for days. Days that seemed like an eternity. You were trapped in a landscape that you would surely have found magnificent, had the circumstances of your presence here been different.
The snow falling from the sky covers everything, and not an ounce of greenery escapes it. Yet, the sight wasn’t comforting — it was threatening, and scary. It was so cold that you couldn’t feel your fingertips. Everything was white, and all looked the same, turning the forest into a maze with no way out. The trees rose up, mocking and oppressive, as if they were only waiting for the moment you would give up.
Be patient. It will be soon, you thought, as your body hit the ground in silence.
You hardly notice you’ve fallen. You don’t even have the strength to try and get up, but maybe you don’t want to. The snow forms a gentle embrace, and you feel it begin to cover you in white too. Soon, you are going to disappear, and you’ll become a part of the landscape — How is it going to take, for nature to hide your body, to make it seem like you have never been here? A few hours? And how long would it take for them to find you? Probably more time. Who is “them”, anyway? You are not sure someone is coming from you, and despite your hopes, it is more likely that they won’t come. Did you forget that you have no one? If people do not care enough to show up at your funerals, do you really think that they would go to the trouble of looking for you in the middle of nowhere? What an idiot you are, you should know, by now, that there is no hope.
No one is coming. 
Even though the idea might sound sad, it brings a small smile to your face, as well as a weird sense of comfort — The peace you’ve been looking for is eventually within your reach. Soon, the world is going to forget your name, and your story. Maybe they won’t even know that you died here, alone in the woods, where no one can find your body.
You have tried to warn them about the situation. A last desperate plea for help to be sent, but you never found out if they got your message because your broken radio had died before they could confirm. Despite being an experienced agent, you have been caught out of guard by the situation — Should you wait for them here, or should you try to find a way back home on your own? The decision was made for you when the enemies started looking for you, there was no way you could escape them by staying in their base. Outside, you could hide more easily, and maybe even find a way out of here.
Yet, the days went by, and all you have done is get lost in the forest, a labyrinth made deadly by the snow and very low temperatures. There is no room for life in this place, and the fact that you survived for a few days is a miracle in itself.
You were perfectly aware of the risks when you accepted the mission. There are always high risks in this profession, and you were prepared to take them all, even the most irrational ones because nothing scared you — That’s your strength, you’ve never shied away from a mission. You knew that it wouldn’t go on forever, and that the risks you were taking would eventually lead to your demise — But who cares? Not you, nor Fury. Maybe it was exactly what you were both looking for-; the man wanted a soldier, and you wanted a way to die with dignity, which is exactly what he offered you.
And so, you accepted every mission he presented to you, worked on every file that was put on your desk without thinking twice about it. There was always a good reason to accept, many lives to save, and countless threats to the world, and for that, you were willing to take the risks that nobody else wanted to take. That’s what heroes do, right? They put their lives in line, for the sake of the population. 
So far, you have done surprisingly well, successfully returning from each of your missions. Yet, you knew it was only a matter of time before you ran out of luck. Maybe your current situation is solely your fault, for thinking that you could keep pushing your limits indefinitely — For forgetting that you are not a hero, only human. The blood between your fingers is there to remind you of that. It is red, as the one of all the people who live on this planet, and you can pretend all you like that you are a hero, but you’ll never be able to escape your condition, that of being human.
Yet, there is something oddly comforting in watching your blood staining the snow. Something that cradles you until your eyes close, something that helps you accept your destiny. These bloodstains are the silent promise that peace will soon arrive, the peace you have waited patiently for for years.
—   —   —
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” the woman screamed, her voice echoing throughout the room. No one dared looking at her, everyone avoiding her gaze. The team had just returned from yet another search mission, one of their last hopes of finding you, only to inform her that they had lost track of you — Again. 
The woman knows that she should not have listened to Clint when he told her that she’d better stay in the Quinjet and rest, something she has clearly been lacking in recent days. He even promised her that he would do his best. They all promised, but it was just lies. 
Natasha has waited for them for hours, obviously unable to rest because she was so consumed with anxiety. She had walked the whole length of the Quinjet more times than she can count, waiting for their return. When they came back empty-handed, she was furious. Not only they didn’t find you, but above all they had lost the only hint of your presence that they had managed to find since the search began, almost a week ago.
If she had been with them, things would have been different. She would have found you, she is sure of it — because she would have refused to come back before that happened.
Everything now seemed hopeless, and everyone was aware of this. That probably explains why they are abiding her gaze, not to escape her anger, but because they do not want to witness the pain they could read in her eyes. The spy had always been good at hiding her emotions, and no one had ever been able to read her — even after you left, two years ago, she remained composed — but her mask had started to crack in the last few days, and everyone could now see her worries. 
Natasha was the one who insisted for the Avengers to come for you, and although she insists that this decision is only motivated by her duty, everyone knows there is more to it than that — Feelings that the years had not erased, strong ones that she had buried, but which were resurfacing since she learned that you were in danger. You are her weakness, you are the only one that can make her lose her temper that easily, it is as if she was suddenly a child again — One with emotions too big for his understanding. It is like two years ago, when she saw the pictures and felt her heart being shattered.
“It is okay, I am sure that we are going to find her,” a voice raised, and it was Fury’s. The man was the only one to be brave enough to do such a thing, the only one who didn’t fear the redhead, even though he was the one who should be most wary. The man is standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, his arms crossed — They could have been talking about their next meal, and he would have had the same fucking attitude, she thought. “She is strong, and smart. I am sure she will find a way to survive, do not underestimate her, Romanoff,” he calmly added, but his disastrous attempt to calm the atmosphere has the opposite effect — All she wanted to do was to violently rip the expression on his face, she couldn’t stand the overconfidence she could read on it, and the calmness that didn’t fit with the seriousness of the situation. 
“You know nothing,” she replied through gritted teeth, the only way she had found to not scream at him, “you are just trying to make yourself feel better about what’s happening because it is your fault. One of your agents is going to die, and it is all your fault!” she yelled the last sentence, unable to keep her voice low as she felt the rage building inside her. The man didn’t even care, he sees you as an asset, not as a human.
“She is an agent, Romanoff, and one of the best. It is her job to take risks, and she knew them before accepting the mission. This regrettable accident is no one’s fault,” he said, unimpressed by the redhead’s outburst.
“Oh, please!” she exclaimed with a bitter laugh, “this mission wasn’t risky, it was suicidal, and you are perfectly aware of that. No one in their right mind would have accepted it, but she was vulnerable, and you knew it, and took advantage of her state to get what you wanted!” she had moved closer, until she was almost spitting in his face, until the accusing finger she was pointing at him almost touched his chest. She knows the man and his tricks, she knows that he always finds a way to get what he wants. “I hope it was worth it because, if we don’t find her alive, I’ll make sure to bury you next to her grave,” she spitted, not even trying to hide her threat — No, not a threat. It was more than that, it was a promise. 
Those are the last words she said before leaving the Quinjet.
They have been looking for you for days, and everyone is painfully aware that the chances of finding you are diminishing with every passing minute. Yet, the woman is not ready to stop, not until she has hugged you one last time, dead or alive. Looking for you was no easy task, and every clue they have found eventually led to a dead end — You are too skilled for your own good, she thought, and it was almost frustrating. If it wasn’t for your skills, and your ability to disappear without leaving a trace, they would have found you days ago. If it wasn’t for your skills, Fury would have never sent you on this mission alone, and he definitely wouldn’t have waited for so long before sending a rescue team.
The woman had to beg him, to scream, for him to accept to give in some pieces of information about how you were doing. He said that you were fine. He said that you were fine, but it was just a lie. He looked at her, promising that nothing would happen to you, but he only said that to get her out of his office. As she later learned, the man had no idea of how you were doing because it was a no-contact mission, and if you gave them news, it would only be to share bad ones.
She heard the message you sent, a plea for help playing on a loop in her mind. Despite the poor quality of the transmission, and the cut words that prevented them from understanding your situation clearly, she could feel your fear, one that made her blood run cold — The woman has never heard you being so scared before.
Fury has waited two days before sharing the message with her. He said that he was positive you would find a way out on your own, and it would be too risky to send a team there when they had no idea how the situation was, but she hadn’t listened to him. All the woman could see was how he almost ruined every chance to rescue you for some ego problems, and foolish confidence — Everyone knows that after two days the chances of finding a missing person alive are slim. 
She hates him for that. She hates him for allowing you to die.
Or maybe it is herself that she hates, for letting you down years ago, when you needed her the most — If she hadn't, none of that would have happened, you wouldn’t have taken such risks in the hope of achieving some kind of redemption.
“What do you want?” she asked curtly to the person that was following her. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was — Steve. In recent years, the man had developed the bad habit of following her wherever she went, convinced that she needed him.
“You forgot that,” he said, and she looked over her shoulder at the jacket in his hands. A wry smile appeared on her lips at the sight of the garment.
“Because I don’t need it,” she sighed, her tone as cold as the forest because of how exasperated she was by the way the man was trying to play hero. Maybe he was one for the rest of the world, but the woman definitely didn’t need to be saved, and especially not by a man that is convinced he knows everything better than everyone else.
“And, how exactly, do you expect to be able to help her if you are freezing to death?” He asked, trying to coax her into taking the jacket — But only someone who doesn’t know her well could imagine having any chance of convincing the woman.
“Did you forget where I am from, Roger?” She asked back, stopping in her tracks to face him, the sudden act surprising the man who almost ran into her, “If you are cold, then you can go back to the jet. No one asked you to follow me. So now, shut up or leave me alone,” she warned him before resuming her journey, the man at her heels. Natasha wasn’t walking in the forest for pleasure, and she couldn’t afford any distraction.
The woman has to concentrate to make sure she doesn’t miss any traces of your presence. These are rare, almost imperceptible, and easily hidden by the snow. She needs to be sure that she won’t miss anything, and that is something she can’t do if the centenarian doesn’t stop rambling in her ears.
Fortunately, the message seems to have got through because not a word was spoken for the next hours, and the two Avengers just walked in silence. Only the snow crunching under their feet broke the heavy silence. It had been hours, and the landscape didn’t seem to change, giving the impression that they were walking in place, or that they were going in circles. No matter where her eyes landed, all she could see were snow-covered trees, but that was until she spotted it. It was almost invisible, but there was no way she was going to miss the only thing that wasn’t white in the landscape — A red stop. A spot of blood, probably caused by a few drops, but that was leading to a trail staining the forest’s perfect white coat.
“Wait! Where are you going?” the man exclaimed when he noticed that his partner had run off, but he got no answer. His eyes weren’t as sharp as hers, and so he didn’t notice the stains straight away.
When he finally catches up with the woman, he was so taken aback by the scene that he was unable to move, or speak. It was so unexpected that he felt like he was daydreaming, and wondered if it wasn’t the cold that was causing him to hallucinate.
There, a few meters away from him, the redhead was kneeling in the snow. She was close to a body whose identity was in no doubt — You. Suddenly, all he can see is the rigidity of your body, the bluish tint of your lips, the snow that is covering your face, but above all the scarlet puddle that is staining the snow, so big that no one could miss it.
“Give me the jacket,” she asked him, her tone firm despite the obvious tremor in her voice. Her eyes never leave you, even for a moment, perhaps because she was afraid that you would disappear, and that she would lose you, again. “Steve. The jacket,” she asked again, but more urgently this time, “give me the fucking jacket, and go get the others!” she repeated, and the shout seems to shake the man out of his torpor because he eventually hands her the jacket before running off, in the direction of the jet. 
Natasha didn’t look back, but she heard his footsteps in the snow as he walked away. Now alone, she gently lifts your body, wrapping you in the jacket, and even pulling the hood down your face to protect you from the snow and wind. She can’t help but let her hands linger on your visage, her thumb gently tracing your features, then brushing past your now blue lips to eventually follow the wound on your cheek.
For a few seconds, she allows herself to get lost in the familiarity of your face, but the blood that is left on her thumb after she ran it over your cheek brings her back to reality — You are dying. Maybe you already are, dead. Yet, there is not much she can do before the arrival of the rest of the team, except praying to all the gods whose names she knows, even though she has never believed in them — Please, if you exist, it is the moment to do something good, she thought, and the woman was so deep in her thoughts, trying to keep the last shred of sanity she had, because the last thing you need is for her to lose her temper, that she missed it at first, those words that came out of your mouth.
“What?” she asked, a little abruptly, as her eyes fell on your face. Your expression hadn’t changed, your eyes were still closed, and so were your lips, giving the impression that she had imagined the whisper. “Did you say something?” She nevertheless asked, and several seconds passed in silence. She felt the hope that had made her heart beat being replaced by despair, until she notices the trembling of your lips as they try to come to life. At first, no sound escapes, only a whimper that breaks her heart. “Shh, it is okay, take your time, baby. You can do it,” she quietly encouraged you as she noticed your struggles. 
Her hands cup your face, and the warmth of the contact, accompanied by the circles her thumbs are tracing on your cheeks, is comforting. It helps you to ignore the pain for a moment. The gesture even gave you the strength to talk.
“You..,” you started, but this simple word requires so much effort that you need to catch your breath before continuing. “ ..came..,” you eventually added, the second word coming out as a broken whisper, and the woman has to be close if she wants to understand what you are saying.
“Yes!” She exclaimed, “yes, I did. W- We are all here, baby,” she softly replied, her voice trembling slightly because of emotion, just like her hands as she continued cradling your face. 
They are here? All of them? You thought, and the realization brings tears to your eyes. The woman can also feel tears welling up in her eyes, and you can see them. Yet, she should not cry. She has no right to cry when you need her to be strong and calm your fears. The woman knows it and yet, she can’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. For so long, she had hoped to see you again, prayed for a second chance even though she knew she didn’t deserve it, but she hadn’t imagined that life could be cruel enough to offer her what she most wanted under the worst circumstances — Once again, she was about to lose the most important person in her life.
“Is.. that.. end.. ?” You painfully asked the woman. 
You have once heard a belief saying that the Angel in charge of helping a soul to travel to the other side always takes the appearance of the person the deceased loved the most during their life. You wouldn’t have expected anyone but the redhead to be yours. You may have tried to hate her for years, but the truth is that you have been unable to stop loving the woman.
“Because..,” you continued, but were stopped by a violent coughing fit. “Am.. ready.. now..,” you eventually managed to say. You want nothing more than to touch her face one last time, but your body refuses to listen to your desire and, as you try to move your hand, all you manage to do is to wiggle your fingertips — But it is okay, you thought. You are content enough with being able to see her one last time, and knowing that her comforting touch is the last thing you would feel before Death wraps its arms around your body, taking you somewhere where pain does not exist. 
“The.. end?” The woman repeated after you, a bit confused at your words, and you can tell because of how her eyebrows are knitted together. “Oh no, honey, it is not,” she whispered, trying to bring you a bit of comfort. “You are going to be fine, I promise,” she said, repeating those words a few times, unsure if they are really meant for you.
“I.. know.., I.. believe.. you..,” you whispered back.
“Then stay with me, baby, okay? Keep your eyes open for me, please. Just a few more minutes, and then everything will be fine, I promise. Do you think you can do that for me?” She started rambling when she noticed that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Yet, it doesn’t seem to work as she watches you slowly slip into unconsciousness. “Tell me, love, where does it hurt? Could you do that for me?” She attempted, hoping that the question would be enough to ground you, to keep you here, with her, until the others arrive.
“Everywhere..,” you whispered, and it was the last thing you said. You were in so much pain that your whole body was numb, and you could barely feel something, unable to tell the difference between your arms and legs.
You are not sure what happened next, or how long it was before the rest of the team arrived, because despite Natasha’s attempts to encourage you to stay awake, you ended up losing consciousness. The last thing you were aware of was the sound of a vehicle, along with a few words that were yelled, and even if you couldn’t understand what they were saying, you were able to grasp the urgency in their tones. The last thing you remember was being lifted. That is when you knew you could do, before the arms that were carrying you were comforting, they were the promise that everything would be fine now.
After all, she promised. Didn’t she?
—   —   —
It was all a lie, when she promised that things would be okay now.
Since the very moment you have opened your eyes, after a few days spent in a coma, the world has been nothing but pain. She had promised you a world where suffering doesn’t exist, but had given you the exact opposite, every day being worse than the one that preceded it. Your wounds won’t heal, and despite the weeks that had passed, you were unable to walk properly, or anything without help. Every step you make, every breath you take, are the reminders of what was taken from you.
You had wished for Death. You had waited for the moment you could leave this world almost impatiently, but when the time eventually came, you were brutally ripped from Its arms. When the woman wrapped her arms around you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace, whispering the promise that everything would be fine now, you naively believed her. It is not before it was too late that you realized your mistake. You have thought that the woman you saw was your angel, but it has only been Natasha, a human, with her flaws and mysteries.
Why did she even decide to come?
The question has not left your mind since you opened your eyes. It raises a feeling of confusion, and anger, because there is no explanation you could think of that would make a bit of sense.
You have not talked since they brought you there, at the compound. It is a place that you’ve never thought you would ever see again, but mostly a place you never wanted to return to. At first, they thought that you just needed a bit of time to adapt, but the days soon became weeks, and you remained locked in your silence despite their many attempts to encourage you to say a few words. The only sounds they have heard coming from you are the whimpers of pain that sometimes fall past your lips.
Natasha has tried to speak to you, but you would always ignore her questions and ramblings. Yet, it has never stopped her from trying. Even though she is not sure that you can hear her, even though whenever she enters your room, she finds you looking out of the window, staring blankly. The woman had stopped closing the shutters a while ago, so you would always have something to look at, but you probably didn’t even notice the difference. It seems that your mind is somewhere else, somewhere she can’t reach.
You are far from here, from this room you hate with your whole heart but that you can’t leave despite your desires. A room that is not yours, and certainly not home despite what they may say, and you would rather be anywhere else, even if it means locking yourself in your thoughts. 
It is something they would have known if they had asked you, but apparently they didn’t think to ask for your opinion when deciding your future. The Avengers Tower is quiet, and comfortable. Somewhere you are familiar with, and where you would be able to get the care you need — The perfect place. The only place. You have no family, no friends, that could have agreed to take care of you until you are back on your feet. The Avengers may not be your family anymore, but they are the only ones who have agreed to bear this responsibility — Or most likely they felt like they had to. You probably want to be here as much as they want you to be there, and you know that they are silently praying that you will go away soon. You are the constant reminder of what they want to forget.
And so, you have slowly found comfort in your own mind. The only place where they can’t bother you, where suffering and time does not exist. Except that, as the days go by, it gets harder to ignore the woman. She is the only one who has never given up, always trying to talk to you when she comes to your room, even though you have never replied once. Whenever she comes to bring your meal, or your medicine, or help you to change, she would stay a bit longer, rambling about anything that comes to her mind — And you hate it. You don’t care about her last mission, nor do you care about the last movie she has seen. 
When she is here, time seems to flow slowly, minutes becoming a painful eternity. You wish the woman would understand your silence as the sign that you don’t want to talk, but it is apparently not a sufficient clue because she has never stopped talking.
The last thing you want is to get out of your caparace, because you don’t want to see what is outside, but it becomes almost impossible to ignore the world when the woman keeps invading your bubble. Her voice, her soft touches,.. they held a new promise — Everything will be fine, she continues saying, but now you know it is not true. You have fallen for her lies one time, and promised to yourself that you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. These touches didn’t bring you any comfort, only frustration which then turned into anger. You have felt it boiling inside you for days now — Until you couldn’t bear it any more.
“Why?” You whispered. The woman was helping you to put on clean pyjamas, and you think she was rambling about her day when you cut her off with your question.
You are not sure why you have decided to talk that day. You are not even sure that it was your decision, the broken whisper falling past your lips before you could realize what was happening. You wish you could take back your word, but it was too late. The woman was as surprised as you were, judging by the expression on her face. Her lips are moving, but it is her turn to be at a loss of words.
Somehow, the hesitation you could read on her face made yours disappear instantaneously. Suddenly, you didn’t want to stay silent anymore. You wanted to be heard, to get the anger out of your body because you couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.
“Why?!” You repeated, but this time you yelled the question. At least, it was the intention, but after so much time without talking, the word was nothing like a scream, only a strangled cry. Yet, despite your voice being weak, you realized that you didn’t want to stay quiet anymore — Not now, when you just got it back. Not when there are so many things you want to say, to scream in their faces.
“Why what?” She softly asked, stopping what she was doing for a second. Her hands were resting on your knees as she was talking. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, and had to lower your head a little to meet her eyes. Yet, she doesn’t dare to hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.
You scoff when she looks away, doing the same thing as you can feel tears coming in your eyes. She must not see them. “Playing games, are we?” You said back. Your tone is venomous, your words rude, and meant to hurt the woman, even though she took care of you the past few weeks.
It may sound unfair to treat the woman after all she has done for you — After she saved your life. Yet, she is still the one who dumped you years ago, the one who broke your heart, ruined your life, and made promises she couldn’t keep. The truth is that, if you can’t handle her presence, it is because you know that you don’t want her to be really gone — You shouldn’t, but you want more of it, more of her and her reassuring presence. Her sudden gentleness, after she pushed you away so violently, is building your hopes back up. A feeling that is painful when you know that they would never become a reality.
“Listen,.. I-,” she sighed, but before she could find the right words to answer your questions, you cut her, again. You already had enough, wanting this conversation to end, and now.
“If you can’t give me an honest answer, then I don’t want to listen to you,” you abruptly said, warning the woman that she should carefully choose her next words.
The woman may want to say something, but when she opens her lips, no sound comes out — Because she has no idea what to say. The truth is that Natasha is as confused as you are, the same unanswered questions occupying her mind. She doesn’t know why she went after you, and the lack of response keeps her awake at night. 
The woman simply knew that she needed to be there, that her place was by your side, and no word was strong enough to describe how worried she had been about you all this time, a feeling that has lingered inside her since you left. She pretended not to care, tried to bury these feelings as she had been raised to do, but it never really left.
You had poisoned her soul, her heart.
But you know. You already know the answers to your questions, you only asked because you wanted to hear them from her mouth. You want her to admit that her actions were only guided by her guilt, not by the love she pretends to bear for you, because that is the only way you would be able to get rid of the painful hope that, maybe, things could go back to the way they used to be.
But obviously she wouldn’t say that. 
The great Natasha Romanoff would never admit that she is selfish, and imperfect. 
That she is far from the hero everyone thinks she is.
“Get. out,” you eventually asked the woman. She has hesitated, and missed her chance to say something. “GET OUT,” you yelled when you noticed she was about to protest, “LEAVE ME ALONE,” you added, pushing the woman who was kneeling in front of you with all your strength. When she didn’t budge, it only added to your distress.
For once, she listened to you, and left the room. The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and just like that you found yourself plunged into the silence you’ve been longing for — Yet, it didn’t feel as comforting as you expected it to be.
Somehow, since that day, you have only felt worse. Since you have found your voice again, you only used it to express your anger, yelling at anyone trying to get into your room. It has been several days now, that your cries have been echoing in the tower, making it clear that you wanted to be left alone. If the past few weeks you have been bearing Natasha’s presence, it wasn’t the case anymore, and now the woman couldn’t even do something as simple as knocking at your door without you screaming. You do not want to see, hear, or feel her — Even the mere thought of the redhead was too much.
All of them had tried to step in your room, convinced they would be the one able to calm you down, but everything they achieved was to worsen the situation. Eventually, they stopped coming, giving you the loneliness you thought you wanted — Then why are not feeling better, now that you have what you asked for? 
You are torn apart by contradictory feelings and needs, unable to quite understand what is going on in your mind — It is obvious that you don’t want to see Natasha. And yet, everytime someone other than the woman opened this door, you felt disappointment filling your heart. Maybe that is why you yelled, why you were so angry. 
When they eventually stopped knocking at your door, you caught yourself hoping for them to come back. Your days are now an endless succession of hopes, built up at every sound of footsteps in the corridor, and disappointments, when you eventually hear them going away. She has proven you right, you thought. She has proven to you that she doesn’t care, and you have used up all your tears crying over this idea, days and nights. 
You wish you hadn’t said those things, that you hadn’t screamed at the woman, because you were now missing her presence. Her gentleness may have been annoying, but it has been so long since the last time someone has been this gentle with you, that now it was gone, you were craving to get it back. She gave you a second chance, and you have thrown it away for what? Nothing.
It took a few days before you eventually decided to leave your room. It was not by choice, obviously, and you only agreed to leave the comfort of your bed because of the hunger that was slowly gnawing at your insides. The last meal you got was the same day as the last time you saw Natasha, and you knew you couldn’t go much longer without eating. At first, you told yourself you would endure the pain, that you deserved it for what you did to the woman, but it didn’t make it more bearable, and you eventually gave in.
The plan you made in your mind was easy — Waiting for the night to come, make sure that no one is awake, and then quickly getting down to the kitchen. Only a few minutes, only time to grab some snacks before making it back to the comfort of your room. Yet, you should have known that things never go as they are meant to.
The journey to the kitchen was everything but easy. You have probably been a bit too optimistic about your ability to walk when you thought about your plan. The pain in your leg was so intense that you were only able to take a few steps before collapsing, and had to almost drag yourself down there. Every step felt like running miles, leaving you short of breath. And yet, despite all your efforts, despite your strong will, you were eventually forced to give up when your legs have once again shifted under your weight, leaving you on the ground, unable to get up despite your attempts. 
When even crawling felt too demanding, you were left with no choices but to wait for someone to rescue you. Suddenly, you were submerged by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, and shame, that only worsened when you heard footsteps. You didn’t say anything, and only closed your eyes, hiding your tears behind your eyelids. You were softly praying that whoever is here would ignore your limp figure, scattered on the living-room’s floor, and do whatever they came here for as if you weren’t here. 
“Oh sweetie, no.. I won’t do that,” a feminine voice softly said, and you immediately recognize it as Wanda’s. It holds a gentleness that is unique. 
Your suspicions are confirmed a moment later, when the woman kneels beside you. For a second, you thought about pushing her away, especially when her hand brushes your hair out of your face. The witch is aware of that, but she also knows that, deep down,  behind the walls that you’ve built to protect yourself, you were craving for her attention. That’s why the woman didn’t remove her hand right away, a sad smile stretching her lips when she realized how you were leaning into her touch.
“Are you hungry?” She eventually asked, and you opened your eyes, a bit surprised by the sudden question. You blink, twice, unable to give the woman a verbal answer — But she doesn’t need one. She is perfectly aware of why you came downstairs, and she doesn’t need to use her mind-reading abilities to know that, already aware of how you have been refusing to eat anything for the past few days. “Good,” she whispered, careful with her words. She couldn’t risk you shutting down, again. “Because I was cooking, but did way too much for one person,” she explained, smiling.
It is a lie, and you both are aware of that. 
It is past midnight, and the woman was probably just looking for some water. She definitely wasn’t cooking, and is probably not even hungry, but she knows that this innocent lie would help you to feel less guilty. The woman knows how stubborn you can be, and how you would probably have refused if she had proposed to cook you a meal, scared of wasting her time. Yet, she couldn’t let you go back to your room with only a snack. You need energy, if you want to get back on your feet as soon as possible.
“Come here,” she said when you hesitantly nodded, “let me help you,” she added, and you didn’t protest when the woman wrapped her arms around you — Her embrace was soft, and comforting. 
“I got you,” she whispered in your mind, “everything will be fine now,” and, this time, the words felt true. It has been a long time since you felt as safe as you did in the Witch’s arms, the woman being the only one who has never treated you differently, or hated you for what happened years ago. She was the hope that things could work out. 
THE END. —
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| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).
| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @liasxeatt, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.
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wonderlandwalker · 4 months ago
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Second Chances | Eddie Munson x Reader
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Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox Summary: Eddie royally screws up your first date (read part 1 here) Content Warnings / Tags: fluff (i think), swearing, the worst luck ever, no use of y/n, henderson!reader, reader is described to have some freckles idk, prolly a lot of spelling errors that I'll fix later read now at your own will Word Count: 1.4k A/N: so I kinda went through some trauma this past month but I just started ADHD meds and surprise surprise they work. Still didn't proofread this and am purely posting it cause I literally just wrote all of it in one go and I have poor impulse control even the meds can't fix that
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He was late, and he only knew he was late because Wayne had gotten home and wondered what he was still doing at home. Now normally Wayne wouldn't have bothered grilling the guy, but Eddie hadn't been able to shut up about this for a week. Turns out this day was the day the kitchen clock had decided to stop working, resulting in a TV remote being flung at it the moment Eddie realised, because, of course, it had to be today, of course, his luck would run out again. But Wayne wouldn't let him give up that easily, because as he said it: "fate can go fuck itself, go over there and grovel", which honestly wasn't such a bad idea. So here he was now, definitely speeding, definitely more nervous than he already was, and definitely praying to any god who would listen for help. Because this was your first date, a date he didn't think would happen in the first place and he has already managed to screw it up without even being there. In an after thought he came to the further realization that he definitely did not want to face Dustin any time soon, the boy had become oddly protective of you once his friends actually clued him in on what was happening, which was obvious to everyone -except as established Dustin- with the way Eddie's eyes would trail after you every time he managed to spot you. He was trying to hype himself up, talk some confidence into himself and find a good way to apologize, not that he thought there were any. But just as he turned the corner to your block he heard it, he heard the worst possible sound on earth at this moment, he heard the sirens to Hopper's car. For a sweet small second, he allowed himself to believe Hopper wasn't after him, there was someone else committing a traffic violation on the other side of the street. Yeah, that's exactly what was going on, on the other side of this very much empty street was a car with a bunch of teens hooking up and Hopper had turned on his siren as a warning so he could put his clothes back on. Thinking about it, that wasn't even such a wild idea, like, that has happened to him before, well, except for the empty street anomaly. Right, time to face the music: Eddie came to a stop only about a hundred meters away from your house and rolled down his window as Hopper approached. Eddie shook out face to rid himself of the nerves and turned on his best smile. "So what's your excuse this time?" The Police Chief began to ask. Eddie quirked up at the question "It's not like the other times Jim I promise." Hopper looked him up and down squinted his eyes at him, cocking his head down just the slightest bit "How many warnings have I given you this month kid?" Eddie sighed, he knew where this was going. "Two" "Which makes this?" "The third" Eddie answered, dragging out his words. "Third warning kid, gotta write you up today" Hopper began to grab the police pad in his back pocket to write up the incident report, but Eddie was not above begging, at least not currently. "Listen, Jim-, Mr Hopper-, Sir, you can give me the ticket but can you please give it to me sometime else-" he was frantically moving his hands while talking now "- I'll even come by the station and pick it up myself tomorrow morning first thing but I have to-" And of course, things had to get worse:
The gods hadn't listened to his hasty prayers, because he could see Dustin in your open front door attempting to push you outside while pointing at Eddie's van. And he could tell the moment you spotted him because he could feel a small nerve entering his system, he could feel your presence connecting with his. And Hopper was asking him to please step out of the car right now. So he did, he stepped out and saw you give him a small wave which he tried to return except Hopper was snapping him out of the trance you still had on him from the other side of the street. So Eddie gave it one last-ditch attempt "Hopper please" "Alright let's hear it, what's your excuse?" Eddie's eyes brightened with the bit of hope he had just grabbed. "I have a date" he tried to explain "A date with who?" The chief wasn't gonna admit it, but the kid had grabbed his interest. So Eddie started rambling about how you two had met and how it should be your first date and then he caught your eyes again and he couldn't hear it but his mind filled in the blanks as he watched your soft giggling while looking at the situation unfold and he felt all his tension drop out of his body at once, he felt at ease from the way your eyes searched his, instantaneously so. "Wait a second, Claudia's daughter?" Hopper was looking over at the porch now too as your mother came out of the house as well. "That's not a great first impression" "Tell me about it" Eddie was trying to ignore reality as hard as he could right now. "Alright here's what's gonna happen, giving you one more warning but it's coming out of your tolerance next month" Hopper had assumed his dad stance, a hand on his hip and the other pointed straight at Eddie, and if he hadn't been oh so terribly grateful right now he would have been tempted to make fun of him for it. "Yes, yes! Definitely that please!" Hopper released one last sigh before he spoke back up "Go on over there then" Eddie took the olive branch and ran away with it before he could change his mind. With his van performing some emergency parking down the road he ran over to you just as you shooed off Dustin, and now he stood face to face with you, he stood close enough to count the fading summer freckles on the bridge of your nose and to smell the perfume he had started associating with you, and he wanted more time to admire how well he could see you right now but he had more pressing business. "I'll make this up to you I promise" He knew his promise probably wasn't worth much, but he had to try anyway. He had already started internally debating if it was worth getting down on his knees to beg as a smile cracked on your face. "This is exactly what Dustin predicted would happen" You were full-on grinning now, and it took him a second to comprehend that you weren't upset, you were amused, and he was confused. "He what?" "When he found out we had a date this weekend he tried to convince me you'd be at least an hour late with the Hopper on your ass I'm just stunned at his accuracy" Maybe this really was his year after all "So you're not upset?" "I'm just upset I owe that nosy dipshit money now" And now Eddie was laughing too because you started asking him if he wanted to just skip his reservation which you guys had missed anyway and go to the drive-in because you had heard they were playing Monty Python. So Monty Python it was as he drove there and got both the sweet and the salty popcorn because he wasn't sure which you'd prefer and spent the rest of the evening what he'd say was the perfect time. But he wasn't done yet, he had promised to make things up to you and this was only the beginning for him, a beginning to many good times ahead.
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[@saradika-graphics still being my go-to for dividers] Taglist: @vicurious28, @arlxtoa, @em0220, @madyoghurt, @saturnsbxtchx, @maskofmirrors
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theactualsunshinechild · 4 months ago
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Seeing some takes on the idea of shipping the Yaoqing trio together where people are deeply disappointed and getting moralistic about the age gaps, and saying it's a "bad" ship, and I just.
Listen.
This is a bunch of people who live a ridiculous amount of time. Foxians have the shortest lifespan here, and even they live up to 450 years old. That's insane. Jiaoqiu may have been an adult when Feixiao was a teen, but with a lifespan that crazy, I really don't think their actual age gap matters now that they're all clearly adults with full time jobs and stuff.
You're a long life species on the Xianzhou? When you say you like older men you could be talking about like, dudes in their thousands. You've got as many couples with age gaps in the tens as you've got in the hundreds. We can't reasonably apply normal person age gap ideas to long life species and we shouldn't be trying. Ultimately they're all adults in current canon and it's silly to claim they can't date.
I think it's totally fine if you prefer to view them as platonic or familial, all completely sensible interpretations as always, but you don't have to justify it by claiming that shipping them romantically is somehow bad and morally wrong. It's okay. Hold my hand. Look me in the eyes. You can interpret them as you like. And if the ages make you personally uncomfortable, that's fine, you do not have to engage with the ship, you can block the tag etc. but don't act like it's wrong for it to not bother others.
What squicks you out in fiction isn't universal. Just make peace and ignore it.
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whousestypewriters · 5 months ago
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moments with you - g.h x reader
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pairing: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader
warnings: none! (my 12am writing skills)
a/n: heheh enjoy some gray fluff my lovelies <33 (another grayson fics coming tomorrow hehe)
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@tornqdowarnings, @catapparently, @zenikswaffleshop, @off-to-th-r4aces, @emila07, [if your url is white it means i couldn't tag you]
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sunlight seeped through the curtains of your room - well technically it isn't your room, but you did just wake up in it, feeling safe and cozy. courtesy of the warm body pressed against yours. the peace of the room broken by a loud alarm that you're quick to hit snooze on.
the warm body that usually is already up and into the day by now. his blond hair resting atop his pillow and his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. its rare that you wake up and grayson is still in bed with you, let alone still asleep. you've both missed each other this past week not spending much time together, aside from when grayson slipped into bed late and you left early for work.
so seizing this moment you snuggle deeper into his hold feeling his grip tighten ever so slightly. you know you have a job to get to in and hour but you couldn't be bothered to ruin this moment. who cares if a bunch of entitled adults miss out on coffee for the first time in their life?
just as you close your eyes again you hear the loud blaring of your alarm set off. come on. your eyes open and you twist around trying to find your phone to throw it across the room. which in retrospect doesn't sound like the best idea but its the one you went with - the loud crash waking grayson up unbeknownst to you.
sighing you move to stand up knowing you should start to get ready for work but a tug on your waist is all it takes to have you sprawling back into the arms of a now awake grayson hawthorne.
"oh hello you," you giggle.
"stay," he mumbles.
"i have work in an hour gray," you inform him.
"i don't care, stay."
"i'll get fired," you laugh - ignoring the fact that about ten minutes earlier you were fully prepared to stay.
"i'll buy the damn cafe for you, just stay a while with me," gray's soft voice says as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
sighing you relent, "good morning gray."
"good morning sweetheart."
you both lie there for a moment just enjoying the peacefulness of the sunlight room, holding one another.
"these are my favorite moments of the week," grayson whispers.
"what, having me fired?" you joke.
"no, this right now, us. moments with you just lying here together are my favorite." you melt slightly at his sleepy timbre.
"me too," you sigh. "i'll tell you what, clear your schedule for tomorrow, you and i are having a date day."
that brings a smile to grayson's face - and grayson is devastatingly handsome normally, he's heart stoppingly beautiful when he smiles. joy washing over his features, almost childlike. you love that you bring it out in him, the only one who brings it out in him.
"sounds perfect," he says pressing an achingly tender kiss to your forehead. "can't wait sweetheart."
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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago
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leveling the playing field IX
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summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.6k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there
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a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !
without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3
next part
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Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.
He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.
Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.
Y/N/N,
I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.
I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?
Please tell me you're not dead.
Yours,
Always yours, your Coryo
He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.
The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.
When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.
"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."
"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.
"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"
"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.
You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.
You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.
You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.
You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.
You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.
You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.
You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.
Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"
"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."
"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.
"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.
"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."
You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.
"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."
"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."
Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"
"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"
"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"
"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."
You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."
"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,
You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.
"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.
"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."
You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."
Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"
"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."
It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.
Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.
You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.
You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.
Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.
Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.
Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.
"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."
This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.
"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.
"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.
"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."
Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"
You nod.
"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."
"Sorry?"
"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."
You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."
"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."
"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."
"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."
"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.
"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.
"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.
"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.
"Please." She nods.
"Can I stay with you?"
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iheartsteve0704 · 23 days ago
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The Family Stone - Agathario AU
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Rating: Teen & Up
Summary: Wanda brings her girlfriend Rio home for Christmas. The only problem is that she's not really Wanda's girlfriend and Rio is helplessly in love with Wanda's older sister, Agatha (who she can't even look in the eye).
Note: This is loosely based on the movie The Family Stone (2005)!! This is also not beta read, I'm sorry haha but I will probably go back and fix things!
“This is stupid, Wanda! Just tell them the truth!” Rio said as she jogged circles around Wanda who was struggling up the large hill. It was an unbearably hot day in California but somehow Rio still convinced her going for a run was a good idea. 
“I can’t! My mom thinks- and my sisters they- ugh please, Rio! Just this one last time. Please!!” Wanda had to stop, panting as she put her hands on her needs to catch her breath. She looked up at Rio and gave her an exaggerated pout. 
“No! Wanda, would they truly give a fuck if they knew you were single??” 
“I don’t know! I think my mom would be a little disappointed yeah but the point is that I told them like 2 months ago that you’d be coming with me so I cannot go back now! They’ll just bombarded me with a bunch of questions and grill me non-stop and it’ll truly be hell for that entire week.”
“DID YOU SAY 2 MONTHS AGO???” Rio’s jaw dropped, eyes almost building out of her head. She looked at the girl who has become her best friend in this shitty town and found that she couldn’t say no. They met years ago in a shitty bar and both got wasted and shared their deepest darkest secrets and they never spent a day without each other. They were like sisters at this point. That’s why fake dating her felt so weird. “Fine. Fine! But you fucking owe me.” 
“Yay!! I love you!” Wanda jumped up and kissed Rio on the cheek, who quickly wiped it off with the back of her hand. 
“And I’m out after this, I swear! This is the last time!!” Rio warned and Wanda just nodded her head as she tried to bite back her triumphant smile. 
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“I can’t believe Wanda is really bringing her!” Agatha scoffs as she picks away at her salad. “She’s so… eccentric.”
She watches as her mom, Lilia, shuffles around the kitchen and tosses ingredients into a bowl. Agatha sees the slight up and down movement of her mom’s shoulders and knows she got a good chuckle out of that one. 
Wanda was the baby of the family and she is also the most MIA. She lives a luxurious life abroad doing business of some sorts when she’s not living it up in California. She rarely visits home and rarely answers her phone. The Harkness girls only found out Wanda had a girlfriend because one of the red head’s friends had tagged her in a questionable Facebook photo with a mystery brunette hanging off her arm. They kept grilling Wanda over the phone until she just admitted it. 
The youngest Harkness was similar to the eldest, hard to please and hard to tie down. So when Lilia caught word of her youngest’s new found love life, she was over the moon. Practically already imagining their wedding in her mind. 
Agatha found Wanda’s girlfriend, Rio, strange to say the least. No one has met her other than Agatha, for a brief moment in New York when Wanda was in for work and Rio had tagged along. Rio seemed antsy, almost nervous but Agatha was nothing but kind to her. The entire night was odd, Rio barely holding conversation with her or coding she existed. While it was only one night, it had been a long one and Agatha had told the rest of her family of the cautionary tale countless times, which they had all gotten a kick out of. 
Lilia doesn’t even bother wiping away her smirk when she turns around to grab the flour and address her eldest daughter. 
“Agatha, your sister is welcome to invite anyone she wants. Plus she’s pretty from the photos you’ve shown us.”
“She’s pretty? That’s enough for you? We don’t know anything about her! What if she’s like a serial killer???”
“Oh shush. We should just be happy your sister has finally found love!” 
“Love? Jesus, Mom. Do you really think that’s what this is?” 
“Well she’s inviting her home for Christmas. She’s never invited anyone home for the holidays before! And they’ve been together for over a year, right? Maybe she’ll ask for Grandma’s ring…”
“Grandma Evanora? She was a cunt. You were the one who told us that!” 
“She was! But the ring is to die for and Jen didn't want to give it to Alice! Someone has to take it or else I'll bring it to a pawn shop soon and move to Costa Rica!" They laugh together. 
“I don’t know about marriage. Rio is just so weird! And it felt like they had nothing in common! I mean come on Mom, you weren’t the one who had to endure that painful dinner with them. She kept doing this weird mouth thing where she’d poke the side of her cheek. And I swear to god that girl was staring into my soul! She wouldn’t even talk to me! She was so quiet, I felt like she was silently planning my demise.” 
“Oh be nice, Aggie. But… perhaps she was. You should probably sleep with one eye open, just to be safe.” Lilia tries to bite back a smile but they both end up laughing when the front door swings open. 
“Mom? Agatha? We’re here!!!” Jen says as walks through the door first with her wife, Alice, following behind with their adopted teen son, Billy. 
When they reach the kitchen it is a jumble of hugs and welcomes and then Jen is going up to Agatha and punching her hard in the arm before bringing her into a tight hug. 
“Hey loser, missed you kind of sort of.” Jen said as she hugged her sister and Agatha melted into her arms.
“Ew getting soft on me, Jenny? Grow up.” Agatha jokes and tickles her sister's sides before Jen playfully shoves her away. 
“And how’s my favorite nephew!” Agatha looks Billy up and down, taking in his new appearance. 
“I’m your only nephew Aunt Agatha.” Billy beams at her. 
“I see we’ve gone… goth!” She notices upclose that he is clearly wearing eyeliner and one singular hoop earring. 
Jen shoots her a warning look. 
“I um love it!” Agatha tries her best to be supportive and Billy must buy it because he just smiles widely and starts talking about his different rings and what eyeliner he likes using. 
“So is it true Aunt Wanda is bringing her weird girlfriend?” After talking Agatha’s ear off, Billy steals a bite of her salad and addresses the rest of the room. 
“Billy.” Alice turns and gives him a warning look. 
“What! It’s what Aunt Agatha keeps telling us! She’s weird!” Billy argues and then Alice turns to Jen for help but the woman tries and fails to hold in her laughter. 
“Yes she’s coming. Unfortunately” Jen chuckles and earns a smack painful smack on her bicep. Agatha and Billy laugh at Jen’s comment. 
“You two behave.” Lilia warns but there’s no bite to her voice. 
“We need to be open minded guys! It’s not easy being an outsider.” Alice adds.
“You’re one to talk! Mom welcomed you into this family the first week you guys started dating. Literally gave you the blessing to marry Jen the first time you came over for family dinner. ” Agatha says, stealing back her salad from Billy. 
“Okay! Whatever! I just mean let’s give her a chance!” Alice rolls her eyes. 
“Sure.” “Okay.” The two Harkness sisters say at the same time and Lilia gives them a warning look. 
“We’ll behave! Geez!” Jen puts her hands up in defense. 
“We’ll be perfect angels, mother.” Agatha’s voice is laced with sarcasm which earns her a whipped towel to the arm.
A car door slams. 
“Ooo! That must be them!!” Billy gets up from his seat next to Agatha at the kitchen island and moves towards the living room to peek through the curtains of the window. The women all follow behind him and do a poor job at pending not to catch a glimpse of the couple. 
They watch as Wanda steps out of her expensive car wearing a pressed suit, heels, and gucci sunglasses and then there is Rio. Rio who is wearing a chunky knit sweater that has probably seen better days, a pair of well worn jeans, and combat boots. They couldn’t have looked more dissimilar. 
Agatha had to check herself because she found herself lingering in Rio. The way her dark hair kept falling into her face. The last time she had seen her, her hair was bob length and now it was well past that and really suited her. Then her big brown eyes that she remembers so well that rarely met hers but she’s seen in photos. And then the way she looked so cozy in her outfit. Agatha convinced herself she was just noticing things about the girl. That was all. 
Wanda is directing Rio to pull their bags from the trunk and doesn’t even bother to help her as she starts making her way to the front door. The women, and Billy, panic and move around to all sit somewhere around the living to make it seem like they weren’t just watching them. 
“Family! Your favorite child is finally here!” Wanda says playfully and bounds through the door. They all go to hug her, Lilia holding onto her baby a little longer than the rest.
They all turn their heads when they hear the loud bang of suitcases hitting the floor. An awkward Rio stands in the doorway, expression unreadable. 
“Guys, this is Rio. My… girlfriend!” Wanda smiles over at the brunette. 
They all introduce themselves and Rio acknowledges them with a polite nod and smile, very limited words. Billy looks over at Agatha and they share a look, biting back laughter. Then Lilia tries to go in for the hug and before Rio could reject, she’s being crushed into a tight embrace. 
When it’s Agatha’s turn, the younger woman freezes and she can feel her cheeks start to turn pink. She stares at Agatha momentarily with a gaped, surprised expression and wide eyes before her gaze casts down to the floor.
Agatha watches this happen but assumes it's her nerves, Agatha was a very intimidating presence that she’s been told about time and time again. Lilia gives a pointed look to her eldest daughter who sighs dramatically and takes a step closer to address Rio. 
“We’ve met once before but you probably forgot since it was so long ago. I’m Agatha.” She tries but the younger girl just glances down at her feet and says nothing. Agatha cocks her eyebrow up at this. Everyone stands there uncomfortably. 
“Okay then!!! Everyone is here and must be starving! Go ahead and pick your rooms and freshen up, I’ve left fresh linens on the bed but let me know if you need anything else. I’ll have dinner ready in half an hour.” Lilia claps her hands together and it gets everyone moving throughout the house. 
Everyone has dispersed but Agatha and Rio. Agatha, being the first to arrive, was already settled in and decided on reading her new book. 
Agatha can feel a pair of eyes on her and she knows they belong to the younger girl. After a moment, out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but watch Rio struggle to gather Wanda’s luggage. She looks away when she hears the faint footsteps of Rio going up the stairs. 
----------------------------------------
Later at dinner, the Harkness girls are all catching up and having a ball while doing so. Telling stories about their separate lives and then laughing until their stomachs ache over reliving old ones. 
When the conversation dies down, Lilia takes it upon herself to lead the next conversation. 
“So Rio, tell us about yourself! What do you do for work?” Lilia looks over at the brunette who was slouched in her chair and extremely quiet this whole time. 
Rio looks up and she looks almost startled to be called on. She tries to paint on a smile and looks around the table until she realizes Agatha is staring right at her and brown eyes looks down at her plate as she pushes around the food nervously before speaking. 
“I’m a botanist.”  Rio’s voice is small but sure and all the women around the table hum and nod their head at her answer. 
“What? Like you work at Home Depot or something?” Billy asks but both his mom’s end up smacking him on the back of the head. 
Agatha snickers at the comment but Lilia kicks her under the table. 
“Rio actually works for the government! She leads the botany team at the US Forest Service. She’s a big shot, aren’t you honey?
“Well that’s very impressive! What a cool job!” 
Rio smiles at Lilia but doesn’t elaborate, choosing to look back down at her plate.  
“Agatha is a teacher!” Jen says and Agatha looks up at her in question. “Agatha, didn’t you tell us you were teaching your kids about trees?” 
Agatha glares daggers at her but Jen just smiles over at Rio. 
“Oh that’s nice. It’s important for kids to learn about nature and how to treat our planet.” Rio addresses Agatha, looking at her briefly before looking away again. Everyone waits for Agatha to say something but it never comes so Jen clears her throat. 
“So Agatha, guess who we saw on the way here?” Jen looks over at their oldest sister, mischief glimmering in her eyes. 
“Oh god, who?” Agatha rolls her eyes in response, knowing she’ll hate whatever is to come. 
“Dottie! And she looks great and I heard she’s single again.” 
“Oh I loved Dottie! She always let me check out as many books as I wanted at the library. She actually still does! I think she’s holding out for you, Aggie.” Lilia smiles at her daughter who rolls her eyes again in disgust. 
Wanda laughs and glaces at Rio beside her  and sees the brunette white knuckling the fork in her hand. She raises her eyebrow at the action and gives Rio’s shoulder a little shove, which seems to knock her out of her thoughts. Rio gives her best friend, and fake girlfriend, an unconvincing smile. 
“Well she can keep holding out because that’s never going to happen again.” Agatha says as her mom and sisters groan. 
“You’re not getting any younger, sweetheart.” Lilila says from the goodness of her heart but still it pisses Agatha off. 
“Well thanks mom!” 
“That’s not what I meant and you know it! I just mean you deserve a nice woman in your life to make you happy! Or man! If that’s of interest to you!”
“Oh fuck no! No men. No thank you. No offense, Billy.” 
“None taken. I get it. Straight men are a nightmare.” He says and everyone erupts into laughter. 
Agatha looks over at Rio and assumes she’s staring at her again but instead she’s laughing at something Wanda whispers into her ear. Agatha pushes down the disappointment she feels inside because it’s stupid, why should she feel that way.
----------------------------------------
Rio offers to do the dishes after dinner and Billy volunteers to dry. The rest of the Harkness ladies are cooped up in the living room, laughing loudly at a stupid story they tell every time they’re together but never gets old. 
“Hey. It’s nice having you here.” Billy says sweetly and it genuinely makes Rio smile. 
“Thanks. It’s nice being here. Your family is so great.” 
“They are.What’s your family like? Are they upset you aren’t spending the holidays with them?” 
“I don’t- um. My family, they passed when I was super young. I grew up in the foster system and then aged out and that was pretty much it. No other family other than… Wanda.” Rio says and she means it. Wanda was her best friend, her family.
“Oh I’m sorry.” Billy feels flustered but Rio offers him a smile to know it’s okay. “I was in foster care too. For a long time actually. My parents died in a car crash and I didn’t have any other family. I thought I was just going to age out, like you, but on my 10th birthday the agency told me two lesbians wanted to adopt me and I met them and couldn’t say no. Alice and Jen, they’re just the best.” He smiles to himself, recalling back to that special day. 
“That’s sweet. I’m happy for you. They seem like really great mothers.” 
“They really are.” Billy kept the wide smile on his face when he looked over to the living room where his moms are cuddled together on the couch.
“You’re nice to talk too. It just feels easy. You remind me so much of my Aunt Agatha.” 
“Oh? How come?” Rio keeps her voice neutral, busying herself by washing off a plate that was already clean. 
“I don’t know. Something about your energies are similar. I think you’d get along with her if you gave her a chance. She’s not as scary as she pretends to be. She’s a big softie. Promise.” Billy says and Rio just nods her head. 
Rio chances a glance into the living room and catches Agatha throwing her head back in laughter. She looked so beautiful it made Rio’s chest contract in her chest. She then saw movement to Agatha’s left and caught Wanda watching her with a curious look. Rio quickly looked away and went back to washing the dishes.
—————————————————
When everyone is turning in for the night, Rio walks into the bedroom she’s being forced to share with Wanda (since they are a ‘couple’) to find Wanda sitting on the bed with her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face. 
“You’re into her! Aren’t you!!” Wanda whispers but still gets shushed by Rio.
“Can you shut the fuck up?” Rio covers her hand over her mouth, tackling her onto the bed. She releases her hand when Wanda tries to bit it and they end up sitting next to each other. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Surreeeeeeeeeee.” Wanda raises her eyebrows. “How did I not know this! How long?! Oh my gosh you need to tell her!”
“Are you insane?! I’m here as YOU’RE fake girlfriend! Remember?!” Rio reminds her and it seems to bring Wanda back to reality who makes an ‘O’ shape with her mouth in realization. 
“Fuck, yeah. You’re right.” Wanda taps her chin before looking back at her with a wide smile. “BUT YOU DO LIKE HER! YOU DIDN’T DENY IT! Oh my god. If you guys get married then you’re forced to be in my life forever!! OH MY GOD WE WOULD ACTUALLY BE SISTERS!!! AND THEN WE COULD-” Wanda’s voice is getting louder and louder in excitement until Rio grabs one of the pillows and shoves it over Wanda’s face, effectively silencing her. For only a minute before she resurfaces. 
“So when??” Wanda smiles and Rio just groans and leans back onto the bed and covers her face with her hands. “WHEN DID YOU START LIKING HER!!!???” 
“If I answer you will you finally shut up?!” Rio glares at her but Wanda’s smile persists, nodding her head. “When we met her for dinner like a year ago.” 
“THAT LONG AGO?!??! OH MY-” Wanda can’t finish her sentence because a fluffy pillow meets her face again. 
----------------------------------------
Late at night, Agatha is scrolling aimlessly on her phone when her door cracks open. She’s about to reach for the baseball bat behind the dresser when Wanda and Jen all sneak into Agatha's room. They squeal as they snuggle under the covers and into their older sister. Agatha complains about their cold feet and hands but secretly loves it. They lay in silence for a couple of minutes just enjoying each other's company as they stare blankly at the ceiling. 
“Can I ask you something?” Agatha asks, turning her head towards Wanda, who nods her head. 
“What’s Rio’s deal?” Agatha starts and the mention of the girl makes Wanda look over.  “She doesn't acknowledge my existence. Does she just hate me so much that she can’t talk to me directly?” 
Agatha looks at her baby sister who worries about her bottom lip between her teeth before looking back up towards the ceiling. 
“She spoke to you a little!” Jen tried but Agatha looks at her “okay yeah it was… weird.” Jen comments and Wanda groans, shoving her face into the pillow below her.
“She just seems pretentious to me. Like she thinks she’s better than us.” Agatha adds.
“Better than you, you mean.” Jen adds and Agatha pinches her side. 
“Yeah whatever. I don’t like that she keeps staring at me and not saying anything. It’s just… unsettling.” 
“She’s nice but it takes a minute for her to warm up to you but she’s a great person. No matter what you guys think about her. Just give her a chance.” Wanda makes it a point to look at Agatha when she says the last part. “She could surprise you.”  
Agatha rolls her eyes before pulling the covers tighter around herself and snuggling closer to her sisters until they all fall asleep. 
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In the early morning, Lilila is walking around the house looking for her girls when she finds them curled up in Agatha’s bed like when they were little. It warms her heart so much and she can’t help but whip her phone out and take a photo. She blames her age for forgetting to turn her sound off. 
The girls stir awake and audibly and dramatically whine when they see their mom smiling in the doorway, phone in hand. 
“MOOMMM!!!!!!” The girls shout and Lilila laughs before taking a few more photos and putting her phone away. 
“Okay! Okay! My goodness! Still my little witches!! I’m going to get breakfast started my loves, it’ll be ready in about an hour. Go back to sleep.” She smiles, looking over her kids one more time before closing the door and making her way downstairs. 
She turns the corner into the kitchen when she’s startled by Rio sitting at the kitchen island sipping on some coffee. 
“I’m sorry.” Rio says looking quilty and starting to get up from the stool to leave. 
“Hey! No, it’s okay!” Lilia recovers. “Please stay! I was just going to get breakfast started.”
“Would you like some help?”
“Oh that would be so lovely, thank you Rio.” 
They cook together with ease. Rio slowly drops knowledge of her amazing cooking skills that thoroughly impress the mother of 3. Lilia also learns that Rio actually is a lot more talkative than she lets on and that Rio is actually a really nice and funny girl. While all that is true, she doesn't quite understand how Rio fits with Wanda. Lilia can see now more than ever how different they are but she decides to put that on the back burner for now. If anything, Rio seemed more similar to Agatha. They had a similar sense of humor and something about Rio reminded Lilia a lot of her eldest in a way.
“My Jenny and her wife Alice have been together for 8 years now and they have a lovely son, who you met yesterday. And now Wanda has you and all that is left is my Aggie.” Lilia says, smiling over at Rio who was flipping a pancake on the stove top. 
“Has she ever um-” Rio stutters over her words but Lilia gets what she’s asking. 
“Aggie has always been a tough cookie. She’s a hopeless romantic, don’t tell her I said that to you but I think she’s really waiting for that perfect person. You know?”
“And do you think it was that Dottie person you mentioned last night?” Rio asks. 
“Oh no.” Lilia chuckles. “We just like to mess with her. Dottie was Agatha’s first girlfriend and things got super messy when Dottie broke up with Agatha to be with a boy she swore she didn’t like.” 
“That’s messed up.”
“Yeah it was.” Lilia thinks it over. “Since Dottie, she hasn’t brought anyone else home or mentioned someone so we just all assume she isn’t seeing anyone serious at the moment. Unless she’s hiding a secret family inside her tiny apartment in New York.” 
“Are you talking shit about me again, mom?” Agatha yawns when she walks in, stretching her arms above her head and causing her t-shirt to ride up to expose her midriff. Rio’s eyes go to the exposed skin and she swallows a lump in her throat, looking breathless before clearing her throat and looking back towards the stove. Lilia watches this all unfold and raises her eyebrow. 
Jen walks in with her arms draped around Billy and Alice and Wanda follows behind. Wanda awkwardly walks up next to Rio and kisses her on the cheek. 
“So I was thinking of doing something fun tonight.” Jen says as she walks over to the coffee maker and pours her and Alice a cup. 
“Ew.” Billy, Agatha, and Wanda all say in unison. 
“Not that your pervs. I mean go out! I think we should go to Mephisto’s tonight!” 
“That gross hometown bar? We’re bound to see at least 18 people Agatha’s slept with or ghosted.” Wanda says and it earns her a scolding glare from her older sister. 
“Yeah no, I’m not stepping foot in that place. You’re out of your fucking mind, Jenny.” 
----------------------------------------
Mephisto’s was so fucking crowded. Of course it was, it was Christmas so that meant everyone and their mothers would be back home for the holidays looking to escape their families and get wasted. 
“This is hell on Earth. Why are we doing this right now???” Agatha looks around and doesn’t even try to hide the disgust on her face. 
“Oh come on! It’ll be fun!!” Alice hugs Agatha and tries to get her to smile but it doesn’t work. “I’ll get us all a round of shots!” 
“Okay now you're talkin my language, sister.” Agatha finally lets up, smiling as Alice and Jen walk over to the bar. Now it was just Agatha, Wanda, and Rio. 
Wanda was too busy typing away on her phone to acknowledge they were even there and Agatha resumed her mission of figuring out what Rio’s problem was with her. Agatha turned in Rio’s direction and took in her form. She was wearing tight black jeans, those ratty combat boots again, and a tight low cut black long sleeve that (Agatha hated to admit this but she was a woman lover, sue her) did great things for her chest. Rio looked pretty. 
Just when Agatha was going to try to make conversation with the younger girl, a short red head in a tight tank top approached them and all but threw herself onto Wanda. 
“What the- Nat?! Is that you??” Wanda pulled the figure back and smiled widely at the tiny red head in front of her. 
“Long time no see stranger.” Natasha winked at Wanda which caused the taller redhead to laugh nervously, a response both Agatha and Rio both had never seen before. 
Natasha brings Wanda into another hug that lasts a little too long and looks a little too intimate. It’s Agatha who clears her throat and makes the two separate, giving Wanda a murderous look and tilting her head towards Rio. 
“Shit sorry! Nat, this is my um my girlfriend, Rio.” Rio just gives Natasha a tight lipped smile and nods her head. 
“Lucky girl, Rio. Would you mind if I had a little dance with your girl?” Natasha is already pulling Wanda towards the dance floor before Rio could even answer. 
Agatha shakes her head and rolls her eyes before checking on Rio, who doesn't even look bothered at all by what just happened but Agatha still feels the need to say something, anything to break the awkward tension. 
“Hey. You look really nice tonight!” Agatha offers a warm smile but when brown eyes finally meet hers they are unreadable. It makes Agatha’s smile falter and before she can apologize or say anything, Rio is pushing past her and walking towards the exit. 
“What the hell did you just say to her?” Alice and Jen arrive back as soon as she leaves with a tray of shots. 
“Nothing. I don’t even- excuse me.” Agatha is frustrated and finds herself following Rio’s trail. 
When the cold air hits her, she sees Rio leaning against the car they all arrived in smoking. Agatha, filled with anger, approaches her with a scowl on her face. 
“What’s your fucking problem?!” Agatha shouts and it scares Rio, who jolts back against the car and causes her cigarette to fall into the snow below her. “I’ve been trying to be nice to you this whole time but you have some fucking stick up your ass and can’t even look me in the eye because what? You’re so much better than me? It’s below you to even acknowledge my existence???” 
In response, Rio just scoffs looking away and shaking her head. 
“Huh?! What is it then? What’s your fucking problem with me, Rio?!!” 
Rio finally looks over at Agatha and for a minute she swears she sees something flicker in those brown eyes, something she knew she shouldn’t want.
“Nothing, Agatha.” Rio FINALLY speaks to Agatha but it’s not enough. Rio goes to walk past her and back into the bar when Agatha roughly grabs her wrist and pulls her back, making their bodies collide together. Agatha’s breath hitches at the contact and Rio’s eyes gaze down at Agatha’s lips. Agatha reaches up, cupping her face gently with her breath becoming shallow. Then something takes over her when Rio melts into her touch, her face pushing into her hand. Agatha finds the courage to bring her thumb to Rio’s plump lower lip and the way Rio’s eyes bore into her own create a fire within her. It’s Rio who starts to lean in when the loud sound of giggles tumble out of the bar and they force themselves a part. 
Agatha looks over and see’s Wanda and Natasha practically intertwined, leaning against the building and kissing. Agatha makes it a point to pull the car keys out of her pocket and relock the car, making Wanda’s head snap up and knowing she’s been caught red handed. 
Rio pulls Wanda aside. Tells her this is stupid, that Wanda should be able to fuck Natasha without feeling obligated to keep up the fake girlfriend facade and Wanda just agrees, being tired of the act (horny). She lets Rio break up with her that night, loud enough for her sisters to hear. 
----------------------------------------
The next morning, Rio is lugging her own suitcases down the stairs and heading towards the front door. 
“Rio, you don’t have to leave! Please stay for Christmas. No one should spend the holidays alone. We can even padlock Wanda into her room if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.” Lilia jokes with a warm smile and it does make Rio chuckle. 
“I love Wanda.” Rio says and she means it. “I always will. No bad blood, I promise. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It meant so much, thank you again Ms. Harkness.” 
“Please! It’s Lilia! And at least let… ah Agatha! There you are dear. Can you drive Rio to the train station please.” Agatha just came down the stairs, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. When she sees Rio with her suitcases it seems to fully wake her up.
“Yeah. Of course.” Agatha doesn’t even let Rio get a word in before grabbing one of the suitcases and going out to her car. 
The ride is eerily quiet except for the soft tunes of the Christmas radio. They arrive at the station after a few minutes and sit in silence. Rio suddenly goes to pull the door open but Agatha speaks up. 
“I’m sorry about Wanda.” 
“It’s fine.” 
“Is it?”
“Yeah. We weren’t meant to be.” Rio says truthfully, fiddling with her fingers. They fall quiet again when Rio reaches for the door again. 
“Are we going to talk about it?” “Thanks for the ride.”
Rio lets go of the door handle and makes an action to look over at Agatha but instead looks down at the console between them. 
“Agatha.” 
“You almost kissed me last night.” Agatha tries to duck down and look at Rio. “Hey. Can you please look at me.” Agatha slowly reaches out, her pointer finger touching Rio’s chin and tilting her head up until brown eyes meet blue. Agatha can drown in those eyes if Rio would let her. 
“And you almost let me.” Rio’s voice is barely over a whisper.  
Agatha’s eyes soften and her eyes fall to Rio’s lips. Agatha lets out a shaky breath before leaning in. Her breath hitches when Rio cups her face with her right hand. 
“Agatha. I need to tell you something.” Rio starts but a loud knock is heard on the driver’s window. 
They pull apart and Agatha turns a murderous look towards the window and sees Dottie smiling and waving from the other side. Agatha closes her eyes, letting out a sigh, before rolling the window down. 
“Dottie. What do I owe this pleasure?” Agatha says with an annoyed tone that Dottie doesn’t seem to catch on to. 
“I heard you were back in town but I had to see it for myself! How are you? You look really… hot.” Dottie smirks, leaning on the window and purposefully flashing her cleavage towards Agatha who rolls her eyes and leans back in her seat to create space. 
“My train is here.” 
Rio rushes out of the car before Agatha could stop her. 
----------------------------------------
When Agatha gets back, everyone is in the living room. Wanda is sitting in the arm chair that had been moved to the center while everyone takes their turns berating her. 
“I knew you were a cunt but this is next level, Wanda!” Jen scolds and Lilia smacks her arm for the bad language. 
“Sweetie, you should’ve just broken up with her instead of cheating! Cheaters are the WORST type of people and I know that isn’t you. Wanda you are better than that!” Lilia says desperately, looking at her daughter with so much disapproval and it makes Wanda sink in her seat. 
“I’m actually disgusted with you. I can’t even look at you!” Jen adds and Wanda puts her head in her hands, staring at the ground. 
Agatha makes her presence known, walking into the living room with caution and they all turn towards her. Wanda sits straighter in her seat when she sees the look on Agatha’s face. 
“She told you. Didn’t she?” Wanda asks and they all look at her in confusion. 
“What are you talking about?” Agatha asks. 
Wanda sighs and comes to terms with her actions, realizing it’s better to confess than be seen as a cheater (which she’d never be). 
“She was never my girlfriend! Okay!” 
“WHAT?!” The Harkness women shout and stare at the youngest. 
“What the hell do you mean by that?!” Agatha gets closer, crossing her hands over her chest. 
“I mean… ugh. Okay. So. We were just pretending to be together to get you guys off my case. We never dated. We never even hooked up. She’s strictly my best friend. That’s it.” Wanda explains and the room falls quiet. Agatha moves to sit on the couch where Alice and Billy resided, cradling her head in her hands and thinking. 
“You didn’t have to do that, my love. We don’t care if you’re seeing someone or not. It doesn’t matter. So long you’re happy.” Lilia softens and smiles at her youngest, who smiles back. 
“I told you, mom. You owe me $30 bucks.” Billy whispers to Alice and Agatha whips her head up to look at her nephew. 
“You knew???” 
“It was kind of obvious. From the lack of PDA to the way Rio would practically drool when you walked into a room. I mean I thought we ALL knew.” Billy says.
“Drool? What are you talking about? Don’t be ridiculous. She’s like 10 years younger than me.” Agatha asks and Billy just stares at her. Agatha looks around the room for help and they are all giving her the same look. 
“I did notice her oolging you too and thought it was odd since at the time I thought she was with Wanda but it makes a lot of sense now.” Lilila agrees, sitting on the arm of the chair Wanda was sitting in. Moving the red hair out of her face and kissing the top of her head. She whispers ‘my baby’ into her temple and the youngest throws her arms around her waist. 
“Agatha.” Wanda speaks up and they look at each other. “She likes you. A lot. That’s her problem with you. The problem is that she’s liked you since we met for dinner all that time ago. The problem is she likes you too much.” 
Agatha’s mouth falls open, a whole new world has just been opened to her and she feels frozen in place. 
Then before she can comprehend what is happening, she is being pulled up from her seat and shoved into the car. They all manage to fit into Jen’s van and they zoom down the street. 
“Where are we going!?!? It’s Christmas morning?!” Agatha asks, still in shock of what was happening. 
“We are getting you the girl!!” Billy smiles as she says so, pointing to the train station once they arrive. 
Agatha’s eyes widen and she shakes her head. 
“No.” Agatha says weakly. 
“What? You don’t like her?” Wanda raises her eyebrow. Agatha doesn’t say anything but looks down at her ratty uggs boots they shoved onto her feet before leaving the house. “Then go get her!” 
“Her train already left. I saw it leave.” Agatha said, feeling her heart break at the memory. Trying to get rid of Dottie but she wasn’t fast enough. 
They fall silent, taking in the moment but then Alice sits up in her seat. 
“Wait. Isn’t that her?” Alice says and they all crowd the left side of the car windows until Agatha pushes her way through to see and it is her. Rio sitting sadly on a bench, kicking her feet and wiping away a tear. 
Agatha is pushing through the bodies and throwing herself out of the car. She rushes the station and all but body slams into Rio and brings her into a tight hug. 
Rio is alarmed at first, scared she was just attacked by a stranger but she notices the hair and the waft of her scent and melts into her arms. They stay there for a moment before Agatha pulls back and cradles her face in her hands. 
“What about Dottie?” Rio’s voice is so small and then Agatha laugh and Rio starts to shrink away.
“There’s nothing there. She’s no one. I promise.” Agatha says, watching the way Rio looked so unsure at first but finds confidence after Agatha’s confession.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Agatha says, voice laced with longing. 
“Well I was fake dating your sister.” Rio says plainly but a small smirk on her face. 
“You’ve really liked me all this time?” Rio just nods her head and Agatha settles with a sweet smile on her face. 
“Sorry if that’s lame.” Rio laughs, looking down at her sneakers but Agatha forces her eyes up. Face serious. 
“It’s not.” Agatha assures her. “It’s romantic.”
“I- You’re so beautiful, Agatha.” Rio says almost breathlessly and Agatha can’t help herself when she crashes her lips together and kisses her deeply and it immediately feels like coming home even though this is their first kiss.
Rio throws her arms around Agatha’s neck and Agatha tilts her head, changing the angle of the kiss and slides her tongue inside. They are making unholy noises in a public space but they don’t care. They only pull a part when they hear the sound of a loud horn and people cheering. They look over and see the Harkness clan hanging out the window and cheering them on. 
----------------------------------------
Two Years Later:
“Class please welcome our guest for today! My special friend, wildness explorer Rio!” Agatha stands at the front of the class, clapping along with her students who all cheer when Rio walks in in a silly outfit Agatha made her wear. She has on tan khakis, a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a red scarf wrapped around her neck. Agatha wanted her to wear a boy scout sash too but Rio drew the line there. 
Rio planned on being bratty about the situation but once she saw the excited faces of Agatha’s first grade class, she couldn’t find it within her anymore. They were all so cute and ecstatic to be learning about nature and it warmed her heart. 
She settled at the front of the class, asking them to join her on the reading carpet, as she read to them a kids book about plants. She was using silly voices for each character and it made all the kids giggle. She glances over at Agatha, who was biting back a wide smile as she watched her with loving and adoring eyes. 
Agatha had on her big glasses, that were now slipping down her nose, and Rio's heart felt like it was bursting through her chest and she hated to admit this (it being inapropriate in this moment) but she was always endlessly turned on when she slide her glasses on her face.
When the last bell rang indicating the end of the school day, the kids didn’t want to part with Rio but Agatha promised she would be back soon. Once all the kids had been picked up or shipped onto a school bus, Agatha started to gather her stuff as Rio collected the things she brought to the classroom. 
“Oh wilderness explorer Rio?” Agatha sing songed and Rio turned, to see the woman all ready to go. Perched on the side of her desk, arms crossed, not even hiding that face that she was checking Rio out. She crooked her finger, asking Rio to come closer. 
Rio smirked, leaving the books on the floor, and slotted herself between Agatha’s legs. Agatha pulled her in closer, roughly by tugging on her neck scarf, and kissed her simply before pulling back a little. Rio tried to go in for another but Agatha put a hand on her chest, stopping her. 
“When we get home, I want you in our bed with this-” Agatha tugs again on the scarf, “on you, nothing else, and I want you to put a baby in me.” 
Agatha bites the bottom of her lip, knowing the darkening look in Rio’s eyes. She yelps when Rio kisses her hungrily and then grabs Agatha’s bag, slinging it over her one shoulder and picking up Agatha and slinging her over the other. Rio’s smacks her as playfully before leaving the comfort of Agatha’s classroom and bringing her home. 
Much, much later when Agatha is happily fucked and staring down at her sleeping girlfriend, she reached over for her phone and pull up her mom's contact.
Agatha: Hey Mom! So about Grandma's ring...
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kokomos · 11 months ago
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ᝰ  head–strong   ˖  ࣭  ⭑  ☽
— starring  CONRAD FISHER ! 𔓘
MDNI 18+
warning: explicit, sexual themes.
description: your boyfriend is a munch.
tags: fem! reader, gf! reader; established relationship, fem! receiving oral, eating out, smut
honey's note: tsitp fans rise pls!!! more to come <3
conrad’s a smart boy; you already knew this. though many people fail to realize the extent of his intelligence, how naturally skilled he is with romantic or even intimate affairs. he wouldn't call it this, but he plays you like a fiddle. each button he presses gets the exact reaction, consequence he was aiming for. you don't mind too much, though, even if he were to admit it—because what's a little shame matter when it's in exchange for the best head of your life?
times like these always start the same; with the hanging out on the bed, then some making out, and eventually he's got you all hot and bothered. perfect time for him to pop the question: “can i taste you?”
or maybe he's feeling like teasing you more that day, let his playful side run rampant for a change. forget hot and bothered—you’re aching for more, nearly starved from the way he keeps dangling the notion you desire most right before your nose.
kissing you with just enough fervor to leave you panting for your next breath, for more, he pulls back with the faintest of smirks. the look on your face, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over, has him feeling a twinge of pride. he knows he's being a little mean right now, but he also knows you're a few seconds away from begging for it. he's a good boyfriend, how could he say no to you? especially when you blink your lashes at him and pout your lips just slightly, desperately longing for something only he could provide.
he’s gentle when he gets you on your back, legs spread and thighs resting just overtop his biceps. the hold he has on you, his face so close to the most sensitive part of yourself, is firm yet yielding altogether. any sound of displeasure, words to halt his actions—he’s perceptive, open ears because conrad fisher isn't a selfish man. he's caring, in most simplest of terms; though you would come to describe him as, knightly in the way he treats others—treats you.
kisses along your inner thighs signal what's soon to come, no pun intended. with your panties discarded to the side, bunched up with the wetness he'd already elicited from you, he places one last peck before moving to place one on your clit. the action makes your lower half jolt. even so, with the way he's got your legs hooked under his arms, the movement was already being restricting to a mild jerk of your hips. he'll let out an exhale through his nose, almost a chuckle that he manages to stifle just enough (thankfully). the last thing he wants is for you to get all sulky because he ‘laughed at you’—an argument, if you can even classify it as such, that had been brought up in the past. he can't really help it when every little thing he does gets you so riled up. it's endearing, as he puts it; and the fallacy literally dies on your tongue when you're cumming on his that night. “a way to make it up to you,” you vaguely recall him whispering before your memory went blurry from the way your body quite literally melted beneath his touch.
he really is such a smart man. what further way to prove it than with you?
soft, little kitten licks at your slit and his nose bumping oh-so perfectly into your clit. his tongue nuzzles past the entrance when he finally lets himself indulge in the way you taste. instinctively, your velveteen walls clench around the spongy mess probing your insides. he doesn't get greedy, though, no. he'll take his time exploring every crevice and dip in your core, treasuring and mapping out which parts really make you squeal. he knows you—knows you better than anyone. how to make your toes curl, your eyes roll towards the back of your head… all him. never would he dare voice the smug satisfaction he gets when you're holding back a scream of his name, hand clasping at your mouth to muffle the sound. when you reach that peak, he's quick to return back to tracing your clit with his tongue, docile and assuasive. his eyes, having been kept on you the entire time, now wait for yours to open. though heavy and lidded, you manage to meet the gaze of your boyfriend. the pure ecstasy, a result of conrad’s adroitness in regards to eating out, had prevented you from eyeing anything but the back of your head.
when your body settles down, chest no longer heaving from the orgasm, he’d send one lick up your clit before pulling off. with a few kisses to your thighs again, he lets you regain your lost composure before deciding to ask if he can continue. your hand tucking some fingers in the brunette tendrils atop his head let him know that now is the most opportune time for his request. he’d trail a few kisses up past your hips, ghosting your tummy and chest as he hovers above you once more.
“you did a good job, baby,” he murmurs the praise fondly. “got another one you wanna give me?”
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ᡣ𐭩 with love , honey!!
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olderthannetfic · 3 months ago
Note
Writing about my favorite characters as transgender has opened my eyes to how many people in fandom are able to get away with actual transphobia without other people judging them for it, and after one particularly bad experience I feel like I can't participate in fandom without constantly having to check people's profiles and social media to see whether or not they might secretly hate trans people. The fandom I currently write for is relatively small compared to others, but somehow I still manage to catch a lot of casual transphobia, especially on my higher-kudos'd works. This didn't really bother me at first since most of the comments were misinformed but rather harmless otherwise, with most asking me to write a fic where the MC medically transitions to become their "real gender" as a sequel. Those comments were written politely, but the sentiment that a person's body designates their gender bothered me a lot. I specifically present the trans characters in my fics as pre-op or non-op without dysphoria in order to feel more comfortable about my own body, and I'm really tired of reiterating the reasons why I personally won’t create a fic where the MC undergoes a full medical transition. I would be thrilled if someone else wrote that, but it’s not a concept I have any interest in executing myself.
Usually the casual transmedicalism in my comments is my only real gripe about the attitudes towards transness in my fandom, but recently I joined a major fandom discord server and found out that they had a dedicated thread for bashing my work. (Well, to be more accurate they had a bunch of threads for bashing people's works, but mine had the most messages at the time.) I should have just left at that point, but I was curious to see if there was any valid criticism because honestly I don’t get a lot of constructive feedback on my newer stuff and I wanted to see if there was anywhere I could improve. Unfortunately, it was almost entirely just really hurtful comments, with many people making assumptions about my body and offline identity, calling me a fake trans person and a chaser for the things I've written. They kept going on about how I'm fetishizing transness, how I probably just wanted an excuse to write het smut with an M/M tag on it, how I'm probably not actually a trans man but an obsessed and misguided teenage girl instead. I've been on T for over two years now, but even if I wasn’t, their belief that all bodies like mine are basically "female" was really upsetting. Maybe I just happened to stumble upon a bad crowd, but at that moment I just really felt alone. I never expected to receive that kind of vitriol in such a small fandom - I have maybe like five or so people who follow my work closely, so it's not like I'm hitting super big numbers compared to others. I understand that my work might be dysphoria-inducing for other people, but I include warnings for language at the beginning of all my fics and I'm extremely thorough about tagging all the sex acts that take place. It's easy to filter out my work via additional tags if you don’t want to see it. But no matter how many measures I take to make others feel more comfortable, they still feel like I'm taking up too much space and mucking up the tags with my fanfiction.
Part of me feels like quitting after this experience, but I'm also a spiteful bastard and I think it would haunt me forever if I stopped now lol. I'm curious to know if you or any of your followers has ever dealt with a similar situation (as in, finding out there's a bunch of people who hate your work for shitty reasons), and if you have advice on how to continue interacting with others in fandom without constantly wondering if they hate me behind closed doors. I left the server already but I'm sure there's other things I can do that I'm forgetting. Thanks for reading!!
--
There will always be people who dislike you for silly reasons, and if your fic is popular, there will be a lot of them. The only way to deal with it is to just accept that this is normal and not think about them.
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sapphichotmess · 7 months ago
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All I Do Is Dream of You
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Ellie Williams x plus size!f!reader (not really specified, but that’s what I write)
Name inspired by Dodie’s song All I Do Is Dream of You
Even though this is not 18+, I am an 18+ blog, mdni
continuation of this
Warnings/Tags: horrendous writing with very little dialogue (bc idk how to human), fluff, reader wears makeup, reader is able-bodied, reader is right-handed
PLS COMMENT & RB FOR ME PLS
thanks for reading this for me babe @les4elliewilliams u deserve to be fucked so good <3
It has been several days since you were literally knocked off of your feet by one Ellie Williams. And every day since then has been better than the last. You two have been texting non-stop, giddily giggling into your phones with warm cheeks at all hours of the day. 
All it took was one meeting, and you were utterly captivated by the adorably dog-like auburn-haired woman, her presence—even if only by phone—filling your heart with a warmth you couldn't explain. 
You can’t get the woman out of your head, always seeing her pale green eyes piercing into you when you close yours. And don’t get you started on her adorable smile, her lips quirking up and parting, showcasing a slight bit of white teeth. You groan, staring into the mirror on your desk, right hand holding eyeliner up though doing nothing to put any on. All you can think of is the way her cheeks flushed adorably, highlighting the smattering of freckles on her face. You want to trace them—learn the pattern to a T. Learn everything about her, really. 
Your daydreaming is disrupted by the buzzing of your phone which is sat face-down on your bedspread, music blaring from it’s tiny-but-mighty speakers. You drop the eyeliner you were using to make the wing on your eye, drawing a black line down your cheek in your haste. Socked feet making gentle thudding on the hardwood floor, you reach your bed in record time. With your heart racing, you swiftly pick up your phone and flip it over to see the notification. It's another message from Ellie; the sight of her name sends a wave of excitement through you, your heart dropping from your chest out of your ass and a warm flush tickling your cheeks. With trembling fingers, you open the message, eager to see what she has to say. 
Ellie's message pops up on your screen, and you can't help but grin as you read her words:
heyyy you! just wanted to say hi and see how your day is going. i've been thinking about you bunches today. craving one of those bomb cupcakes you whip up... you know, those red ones with the fucking insane frosting? the one i had the other day?
Not bothering to wait more than a few seconds, you quickly type out a response, unable to hide your own excitement:
hi ellie! literally made my day hearing from you fr ❤️ 
you send one text, instantly starting on another:
oh, the red velvet ones? i won’t be making those in the shop for a bit… BUT i can totally open the bakery on an off day and make a batch for you?
Happy with your words, you go to sit down your phone again, butterflies swooping around aggressively in your stomach, but before you do, it’s vibrating in your hand. 
It was Ellie reacting to your first message with a heart. She must have been waiting for your reply—or you were being a horrible loser and texting back too fast. Shaking your head at that thought, you watch as the texting bubble appears, heart racing as you wait for her reply. 
You can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of Ellie's response. Was she as eager to continue the conversation as you were? Or perhaps she had something else in mind? With bated breath, you wait for her message to come through, the seconds feeling like an eternity as your mind races with all the possibilities of what she might say. The anticipation only adds to the butterflies swirling in your stomach, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Finally, Ellie's response comes through, and you eagerly read her message:
DUDE, no way! opening the bakery just for us? that's fucking awesome! i'm so down to hang out with you, especially if it means i get to devour those bomb-ass cupcakes. hit me up whenever you're free!
A grin spreads across your face as you read her words, your heart soaring with happiness. It seems Ellie is just as excited about the idea as you are, and the thought of spending time together fills you with warmth. It would be the first time you guys would meet face-to-face since your first encounter. 
Fuck you couldn't wait to bask in the magnificence of her; her being in your space, filling her lungs with the very same air you breathe. 
You are in trouble if these thoughts are an indication of anything. 
Quickly typing out your reply, you suggest a few possible dates and times for your cupcake date, hoping that one of them will work for both of you. Positively beaming, eyes glimmering with youthful mirth, you finally set down your phone and turn on your sock-clad heels to head back toward your vanity. You make it halfway before you remember what day it is.
The bakery is closed. 
You could see Ellie today. 
Then, you’re slipping against the hardwood, trying to get back to the bed as quick as possible. You finally get your footing after sliding around and almost ending up on your ass, practically flying toward your bed and divebombing onto the soft mattress. Your phone bounces with the impact as you scramble to get to your knees and grab it from mid-air. Somehow, you end up on your back with your phone smashed onto your nose. 
Ouch. That's definitely going to leave a mark.
You grab your phone, scrubbing a hand at your sore nose. After the shock of the hit has left, you regain your urgentness, unlocking your phone, bringing up the messages app, and clicking on your and Ellie’s chat. 
Your fingers move at what seems like the speed of light as you type out a new message: 
so, um, funny thing... i was thinking, and why wait for your cupcakes when you could have them today? how about you swing by the bakery this afternoon?
Thinking for a second, you quickly send a second text:
we can even bake them together! how does that sound?
Nausea creeps up on you as you wait, heart racing and dry eyes staring at your messages to Ellie for several minutes without a text bubble. 
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a bubble appears on the screen, only to disappear just as quickly. This pattern repeats a few times, leaving you on edge.
But then, finally, Ellie's response lights up your screen:
i'm so down for a baking session at the bakery. what time should i be there? 
A wave of relief washes over you as you read Ellie's enthusiastic reply—though you are confused as to why it took her so long to come up with this response. With a wide grin, you quickly type back the details, feeling excitement building in the pit of your stomach. 
Finally having that done, you put your phone back on the bed—hopefully for the last time for a while. Then, you finally sit back down at your vanity, ready to finish your makeup for the day. When you look in the mirror, your smile falters and your mouth hangs open in disbelief. 
There is a long, thick black line running across your cheek. 
“Fuck.” 
***
You’re just setting up everything you need for red velvet cupcakes when you hear the front doorbell ring. Your head snaps up so fast you’re surprised you don’t break your neck. However, any pain is worth seeing Ellie walk into your bakery looking so damn fine. 
The olive-skinned girl is wearing a pair of blue jeans that fit her ass nicely, a grey t-shirt, and a burnt-red flannel that looks well-loved with tearing seams and fading colors. Her shoulder-length auburn hair is pulled into a half-up, half-down look, with some stray hairs framing her face. Your hands itch to push them behind her ears, even standing at the distance you are. 
Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you set the pan you had in your hands onto the counter with a clatter, causing Ellie to start. Making your way towards the front of the store where Ellie stands with hands in her pockets, you call out her name.  
"Ellie!" You greet her with a wide grin, unable to contain your excitement at seeing her—even if it was planned just short of an hour ago. 
“Ah, uh… Hey!” the freckled girl stutters out. “I… it’s good to see you?” 
“Was that a question?” you ask, hiding your smile behind your hand. 
“Uh, no?” Ellie says before realizing that she phrased her response as a question, too. “I mean, no. No, it wasn’t a question. I, um, I am excited to see you.” 
You can't help but find Ellie's nervousness adorable as she stumbles over her words. Suppressing a giggle, you offer her a reassuring smile, eyes crinkling on the edges. "Well, I'm excited to see you too," you reply warmly, noting the faint blush creeping up on her cheeks.
As Ellie's gaze drifts somewhere behind you and she nervously swipes her hand over her nose, you realize just how nervous she must be feeling. Wanting to ease her discomfort, you gently reach out and place a hand on her arm—holy shit, you didn’t realize she was strong, but you can feel her muscles under her flannel. "Hey, it's okay. No need to be nervous," you say softly, trying to ignore your thoughts about what she could do with that strength. "We're just here to have fun and bake some delicious cupcakes together."
Ellie’s green eyes finally meet yours again, though a crease forms between her eyebrows as she does. “I just, ah… you’re, like, stupidly pretty. And, you know, it’s really distracting.” Ellie's cheeks flush a deeper shade of red as she confesses, her final words coming out in a rush.
Your heart skips a beat at Ellie's unexpected compliment, and a warm flush of pleasure spreads through you. "Wow, thank you," you reply. "You're not so bad yourself, you know."
Ellie’s eyes widen in surprise at your compliment, her right hand coming back up to shuffle across her nose. “Ah, thank you?” 
Giggling at her utter lack of words or charm, you grab her hand as it falls from in front of her face. “C’mon! We have so much to do. I’m so excited to teach you how to bake!” you say in a high-pitched voice, obviously excited. 
Pulling her by the—fucking giant—hand to the back of the bakery where you do all the… well, baking, you continue, “I’m almost done setting up everything for us. There are a few ingredients I have to pull out since I wasn’t gonna be using them, but it shouldn’t be too long until we can start.” 
“I—oh,” Ellie lets out a strangled breath as she is suddenly dragged by you into the back room. “That’s okay. I’m just, uh, really excited for the cupcakes.” 
As you lead Ellie towards the back of the bakery, you can't help but chuckle at her adorable awkwardness. "Don't worry, I promise it'll be fun," you reassure her, looking behind you with a warm smile. "And don't worry about being nervous. Baking is all about having a good time and enjoying the process."
Ellie nods once, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm sure it'll be great," she says, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Reaching the back room, you release Ellie's hand and gesture towards the kitchen area. "Here we are," you say, motioning for her to take a seat on one of the chairs you pulled back here from the dining room. "Make yourself comfortable while I grab the rest of the ingredients."
As you rummage through the cabinets and pull out the remaining ingredients needed for the cupcakes, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of teaching Ellie how to bake. Getting to spend any time with the adorably awkward, puppy-like freckle-faced girl was a blessing, but getting to do your favorite thing with her? It’s a dream come true. 
Returning to the counter with an armful of ingredients, you grin at Ellie. "Alright, let's get started," you say eagerly. “First up, we have to… turn on the oven,” you stumble in the middle of your sentence as you get lost looking at Ellie’s tanned face, trying to memorize the placement of her paint-splattered freckles so that you could imagine her going do—that isn’t what today is about.
Ellie nods once, standing to her feet. “Sounds easy enough.” 
As Ellie stands up, hands on her knees to help her get up, you can't help but admire the way her eyes sparkle with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as she looks at you. Holy shit, she’s looking at you. "Great!" you exclaim, shaking off your momentary distraction—for the hundredth time—and focusing on the task at hand. "Let's get this show on the road."
Together, you and the freckle-faced girl move towards the oven, your hands brushing against each other as you reach for the knob. Heat crawling up your neck and over the apples of your cheeks, you quickly move your hand and turn the knob to 350 degrees Fahrenheit, the soft hum of the oven heating up filling the air.
Still hot in the face, you turn toward Ellie, "Okay, next step, cupcake pans," you say, gesturing toward the neatly lined trays on the counter. With Ellie by your side, arms brushing, you grab the pans and place them on the counter, ready to put the liners in. 
As you work, you steal glances at Ellie, admiring her focused expression as she carefully places each cupcake liner in its designated spot like it’s some kind of science experiment that could go wrong. Her tongue slightly sticking out of her plump lips in concentration is definitely cuter than it should be. 
What you weren’t ready for was to have the auburn-haired girl turn her head and look at you as you distractedly stared at her, unable to shake the image of her soft, freckled cheeks, long, slender fingers, and strong arms from your mind. 
Caught off guard by Ellie's piercing green gaze, you feel your heart skip a beat as you quickly avert your eyes. Clearing your throat, you focus on the task at hand, determined to maintain composure.
"Um, so, uh, yeah," you stammer, trying to regain your train of thought. "Looks like we're all set with the cupcake pans." You can practically feel the heat radiating from your cheeks as you turn back to the task, hoping to distract yourself from the intensity of Ellie's gaze.
With a shaky hand, you reach for the extra cupcake liners, trying to steady your nerves as you carefully place them back in a stack, ready for you to put away later. 
When you're done—and your hands aren’t shaking anymore—you finally drag your gaze back to Ellie. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize she is still looking at you. Her green gaze—what you can only describe as a moss-covered forest bathed in warm, sparkling sunlight—feels like taking a knife to the heart, her head tilt—so dog-like—a sucker punch to the gut. You want her eyes on you forever—to bask in the warmth of her eyes and bathe in the depths of her soul—you realize as your heart tries to beat out of your chest. 
Somehow, you find it within yourself to tear your eyes away from Ellie’s; it’s one of the hardest things you’ve ever done, and you run a bakery by yourself. Clearing your throat and staring at the prepped pans, you say, “Ah, um, we can start making the batter now, I guess.” 
Ellie doesn’t hold in her laugh at your obvious discomfort, her melodic laughter filling the room with a warmth that soothes your frayed nerves. Despite the embarrassment of being caught in a moment of vulnerability, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you at the sound of her laughter.
"Yeah, let's get started on that batter," Ellie says, her voice laced with amusement as she reaches for the ingredients on the counter. “What do we start with, pretty girl?”
“I–uh, holy shit…”
The freckled girl laughs even harder at your stunned expression, mouth hanging open and eyebrows raised. “Close your mouth, or you’ll catch flies,” she says, lips quirked up as she nudges your chin with her hand. 
Her hand on you gets your mind racing in all different directions before you remember where you are. Snapping your gaping mouth shut, teeth clacking together, you gather yourself. “Uh yeah… we have to, ah… start with the dry ingredients.” 
Ellie hums a “Mhmm” out, mouth still curved in a cocky smile as she tilts her head again—her stupidly pretty auburn hair catching the midday light filtering in from the window—leaning her hip against the counter. 
“We have to shift the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking powder, and baking soda together into… this large bowl.” you point at every ingredient when you name them, picking up the stainless steel bowl when you find it.
“Sounds easy enough.” 
This time, it’s you who hums an answer as you put the bowl down and grab the ingredients to start measuring. “If I measure, would you shift, Ellie?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” she gives you a little salute. 
So, as you hand over every measured dry ingredient, Ellie shifts it into the bowl. Her tongue makes another appearance as she focuses on getting every ingredient into the bowl with no spillage, causing you to overfill the ¼ teaspoon of baking soda. You quickly get the right amount into the teaspoon and clean up your mess, wiping your hands on your apron. 
“Okay, now that’s done, we have to add the salt and whisk everything together.” 
Ellie reaches for the salt, adding it to the bowl as you grab the whisk. She slides the bowl over to you, watching intently as you whisk. It’s one of the most mundane, boring parts of the baking process, yet she looks so entranced by the whisk circling the bowl, mixing the ingredients together. 
Once everything is thoroughly mixed, you tap the whisk on the bowl and set it aside, putting your hands on your hips and turning towards the girl leaning casually on your counter. “Can I trust you with a knife?” 
“Wh–I–Yes!” She splutters, eyebrows raised. 
Giggling quietly to yourself, hand over your mouth, you shake your head. Dropping your hand, you say, “Sorry, I just had to ask. I need you to cut the butter if you could, please.”
“How could I say no to those puppy dog eyes, hmm?” 
This time, it’s you who splutters, caught off guard. Instead of deigning the tease with a response, you turn your back to Ellie, hiding your burning face and grabbing the stand mixer you equipped with a paddle attachment. When that’s set up, and you can feel the burning embarrassment leave your face, you turn to Ellie, who is wielding a knife, cutting the room-temperature butter into uneven pieces. 
“Babe, it’s gotta be more uniform than that.”
Ellie’s head snaps up, eyebrows furrowed, pupils blown wide, and knife almost cutting into her fingers. “Wh–what did you just call me?”
Caught in a moment of panic, you freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to come up with a plausible explanation. The air feels thick with tension, every second stretching out into an eternity as you search for the right words to say. You hadn’t even realized you said it; it came so naturally, calling the auburn-haired girl babe. “I… nothing, nothing at all,” you spit out quickly, eyes going wide. 
“Nah-uh, you called me ‘babe.’” A loud clattering sound makes you startle, your eyes moving from Ellie’s piercing greens to the knife that just hit the countertop. 
"I… I didn't mean to," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "It just… slipped out."
Ellie's gaze remains fixed on you, you can feel it like a weight on your skin, pinning you in place as you struggle to regain your composure.
“Look at me,” she demands. You follow her directions immediately, your gaze taking in her expression. She looked almost dazed with a quizzical brow as she scratched her head.
"I'm sorry," you continue, your words tumbling out in a rush. "It was just a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear."
For a moment, the silence hangs heavy between you, broken only by the sound of your own rapid breathing. And then, without warning, Ellie's features soften, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"It's okay," she says softly, her voice like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. 
As Ellie's soft smile spreads across her face, her pearly whites making an appearance, a sense of relief washes over you like a warm embrace. Your shoulders drop from where they had taken a place beside your ears, and tension leaks out of you like butter in a baking croissant. The weight that had been pressing down on you lifted away like a heavy fog dispersing in the morning sun.
"Thanks," you murmur, gratitude lacing your words as you meet Ellie's gaze once more. Her eyes hold a warmth that makes your heart flutter, a silent reassurance that everything is okay between you.
With a playful glint in her eye, Ellie leans closer, her voice a soft whisper falling from her plump lips that sends shivers down your spine. "You know," she says, her tone teasing, "I don't mind being called babe."
Your heart skips a beat at her words.
A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you lean in, unable to resist the magnetic pull of Ellie's presence. "Good to know," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll try to remember that for next time."
As the last of the tension melts away like butter as it’s baked into the delicious treats you make, you and Ellie dive into the joyful task of baking red velvet cupcakes together. With each step of the recipe, you find yourselves falling into a comfortable rhythm, working seamlessly together as if you've been doing this for years.
The scent of cocoa and vanilla fills the air as you and Ellie chat and laugh, exchanging stories and getting to know each other on a deeper level. From childhood memories to dreams for the future, you two open your hearts and minds to each other. 
As the cupcakes bake in the oven, you steal glances at Ellie, admiring the way her eyes light up when she talks about her passions and the infectious laughter that bubbles up from within her. 
And when the cupcakes are finally cooled and ready, their red tops gleaming with perfection, you and Ellie decorate the cupcakes with swirls of cream cheese frosting and a sprinkle of red velvet crumbs together, playfully bumping shoulders and laughing at Ellie’s attempts at decorating. 
As you sit down to enjoy the fruits of your labor, savoring each bite of the moist, decadent cupcakes, you realize that this is just the beginning of a beautiful friendship—and perhaps something more. 
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Note
What if the reader was still a child? I’m not talking 13–14 years old, but what if they were 8–9 years old and they were reading and watching Bungou Stray Dogs because the characters looked "pretty" and they weren't even affected by all the blood and stuff? They just took comfort in the characters since their home life was not so great.
My little guardian
Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD characters x GN! Child! Abused! Reader
Focus: Self-Aware! Platonic! Dazai Osamu x GN! Child! Abused! Reader
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Description: During last Family Reunion, you have heard about an anime. The characters look pretty, so you decide to watch it.
Found Family. Biological family is a bunch of awful jerks. Child Reader.
Warning: Mentions of parental neglect. Abuse. Bulling. Reader are an unwanted/unplanned child. Kids consuming not age appropriate media (child watching/reading BSD). Mentions of terminating the pregnancy. Mentions of torture. Chocking. OOC. Platonic Yandere. English is my second language.
You are sure, that Family Reunions are boring. No one wants to talk to you.
Your parents and other adults were having their boring talks. Your older brother and cousins were running around the backyard, playing tag. You wanted to play with them, but they don't let you join.
Your brother even drags you away to the other side of the backyard and whispers in your ear.
"[Y/N], you already have a game to play, remember? Our parents and you are always playing it. Be a good unwanted sibling, play it and don't bother me."
With that, your brother turns around and returns to your cousins.
You sniff. You are so bored. The game, that your parents wants you to play, is boring. You don't want to play it anymore.
The game is called "What others will say". Your parents have been playing it for nine years. (Ten, if that time, you eavesdrop on them, they weren't mistaken). Ever since you were born. (Or even earlier).
Playing in "What will others say", means doing and saying specific things.
"You can't take the phone with you on a Family Reunion. You should talk to alive people, not look in the screen. What would others say? Yes, your brother can have his. He is older than you, don't question, why he can take his phone."
"You can't tell anyone, that your brother hits you. What will others say?"
"You can't have this toy. We already spent too much money on them. What will others say?"
"What do you mean, all toys we bought, we gave to your brother and you didn't get any?! How dare you say it out loud? What will others say?"
"You can not cry because your brother pushed you down the stairs. What will others say?"
"You can't ask your aunt if you can have more food on your plate. What will others say?"
"Why you didn't terminate ... when we had a chance?"
"I couldn't get rid of it. What would others say?"
"Why you didn't insist ... in the orphanage?"
"I can't. What would others say?"
Boring, stupid game...
You sniff one more time. Stupid adults. You decide to go back inside. Maybe, you will find something interesting there.
__________
All adults were inside. They were talking, discussing their adult things.
They didn't pay any attention to you. But, you heard a couple of whispers, when you passed some of your relatives.
"unwanted" "fault" "pill" "broke" "liked process"
For you, this whispers doesn't make sense. What "pills"? What was "broken"? Whose "fault"?
You passed a group of your much older cousins. They were already in.a high school, so they don't want to speak to a "pipsqueak", like you. One of your cousins bring their girlfriend with them. Now all of them were discussing something.
"I tell you, Dostoevsky is smarter than Dazai!"
"No, Dazai is smarter! Besides, he looks cuter than the Rat Man"
"Are we really having a heated discussion about an anime?"
Anime? You know about anime. Japanese cartoons. You like anime. Your parents aren't against you watching anime. You are silent, while watching it, and doesn't bother them with questions.
So, does adults watch anime too? Maybe, if you ask, they will tell you a name of this anime?
You wanted to take a step towards them, but your cousin, the one who bring their girlfriend, hiss at you.
"What are you looking at? Go, play somewhere else."
You quickly go away. You don't want them to do something bad to you. Yes, you really want to learn the name of the anime, but, you don't want to be hurt because of your curiosity.
For the next ten minutes, you were walking from one part of the house to another. Walking around, doing nothing is better, than sitting on one place, doing nothing.
During your 'walk' you go to the balcony. You noticed your cousin's girlfriend. She is standing there, talking on a cell phone.
A keychain was attached to the phone. The keychain looks like a tiny man with brown eyes, short, dark brown hair. The man is wearing a sand-colored trench coat, black vest over a striped dress shirt, a bolo tie,
white pants and dark brown shoes.
You take a quick glance on Girlfriend's phone case. There is the picture of the same man, but taller and more detailed, on her phone case.
You can't turn you from keychain and phone case. They are so pretty.
Girlfriend finish talking on the phone and turns around. She gasps, after noticing you.
"Y-you scared me"
You feel, that your cheeks become warm. You are embarrassed, that she noticed your staring. But you still can't take your gaze from the keychain.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to. It's just, your keychain and phone case look so cute. Does that character have a name?" explain you, looking at the keychain. Girlfriend also looks at it.
"My keychain and phone case? His name is Dazai Osamu."
You mentally repeat the name. You must not forget to look up this character on the Internet.
"Dazai Osamu? He is from anime, right? Can you tell me the name of the anime? Can you tell me, please? I like anime and want to see as much anime as I can."
Girlfriend looks skeptical.
"It's not an anime for kids. What have you been watching? Pokémon?"
You start listing every anime you have seen.
"Yes! I also have seen Chi's sweet home, Bananya, Naruto, Death Note, Demon Slayer, Shaman King, Gurren Laggan..."
Girlfriend quickly puts her hands over your mouth.
"Okay, you can stop. Kiddo, most of this anime are not for kids. Aren't you afraid of watching them?"
You shake your head. You step back and answer.
"No. They help me, when Dad and Mom are arguing, or Derek, my older brother, is being a jerk."
Girlfriend bits her lip. She looks hesitant. Then she takes a little notepad from her purse and writes something down. Then she takes the page from the notebook and gives it to you.
"Here, I wrote it down."
Your smile became bigger. You take the page and read the text on it. Right above her number, there was an anime name.
Bungou Stray Dogs
"Thank you, miss" your eyes are shining. Now you have more anime to watch."
Girlfriend smiles sadly at you. Then she removes her keychain and gives it to you.
"You can have it, kiddo. Dazai will be your lucky charm."
You take the keychain with trembling hands. You sob and hug Girlfriend's leg.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much, miss! I will always treasure him!"
Girlfriend pets your head.
"You can call me Martha, kiddo. And you are welcome."
You looked up at Martha.
"Then you can call me [Y/N], Martha"
Martha smiles. You don't notice, that she has tears in her eyes. Martha remembers, what her partner tell her, when today she asked, why they drove you away.
"Babe, [Y/N] are an unplanned child. Their parents liked the baby making process. So, when mother run out of pills, and father's... protection broke... he-he, they got them as a consequence. Wanted to get rid of them, when they still were inside the mother, but granny forbid it. What would others think, if they knew? When the brat were born, parents wanted to leave them in the hospital. And, once again, granny forbid it. What would others think, if they knew? So, kid are unwanted by their parents. They are unwanted by other relatives. And I also don't want this kid to like me. So, let the brat do their own thing."
Martha sighs. She herself was an unplanned child. But her parents love her. So why this family hates poor kid for been born? Martha and pet your head again. You smile and, after thanking her again, you go inside the house again.
You are a good kid. Martha thinks, that, maybe, she should rethink her decision about dating your cousin.
A few hours later, the Family Reunion is finally over.
You are riding home. You are sitting on the backsit of your parents' car. Your brother was sitting near you. Derek was watching something on his phone. Your father is driving, while your mother is sitting next to him.
The page, with anime name and Dazai's keychain, are in your pocket. You didn't show it to your parents or brother. Derek will take the keychain away. Even if he doesn't like anime, he likes to bully you.
You can't wait to finally go home. You want to start watching new anime as soon as possible.
______________________________
In one week, you finished watching anime. You enjoyed it so much.
The characters were pretty. You liked all of them.
You weren't bothered by blood, by death.
This anime helped you with zoning out.
"It was your fault! If only you tell me that it wasn't the safe day..."
"And who insist on us doing it?!"
"Dazai, you looked so cool, when you were in Mafia."
"YOUR MOTHER INSISTED ON KEEPING IT INSIDE ME! IF IT WAS IN MY POWER, I WOULD TARE THIS BANTLING WITH MY BARE HANDS!"
"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER!"
"F-Fyodor, you are so smart! You tricked evil Ace!"
"YOU PUT THEM INSIDE ME! YOU RUIN MY LIFE!"
"YOUR LIFE WAS RUINED?! I HAVE TO WORK ON TWO JOBS TO SUPPORT YOU AND CHILDREN! WHILE YOU ARE SITTING AT HOME, DOING NOTHING!"
"Go on, Atsushi! Go on, Akutagawa! Catch Pushkin, so Mister Fukuzawa and Mister Mori become healthy again..."
You hide under the blanket. With phone in your hand and with cheap headphones covering your ears, you were watching the last episodes of Bungou Stray Dogs. You were holding Dazai's keychain in your free hand.
________________________
You find manga and light novels on the Internet. You start reading it from the beginning.
Manga and Novels were as enjoyable as anime.
Manga and Light Novels help you with zoning out.
"Hey, unwanted sibling! Mom and Dad are going to order pizza! And we won't gibe you anything! You will go to bed hungry again!"
"Yosano, don't blame yourself. You are not an Angel of Death"
"Hey, [Y/N], why won't you just disappear? You are making Derek boo-boo-bear and his folks upset. They will be better without you"
"Kunikida, don't be upset. Yosano will treat you."
"Hey, [Y/N], lil sibling! Please, do me a favor and get lost in the woods! You are poisoning my life! My perfect life!"
"Mister Fukuchi, did Mister Fukuzawa upsets you in your past? Maybe, you can talk it out."
You hide under the blanket. With phone in your hand and with cheap headphones covering your ears, you were reading Bungou Stray Dogs manga and Light Novels. You were holding Dazai's keychain in your free hand.
___________________
"Bungou Stray Dogs. Mayoi Inu Kaikitan" was installed on your phone.
The game was easy and nice.
You love playing it. Dazai's keychain was always with you, when you were playing the game.
For you, the keychain become your little protector.
You start to draw. In a cheep sketchbook, you draw yourself and BSD gang.
On your drawings...
...You were eating waffles with Atsushi and Kyouka...
... You were petting cats with Fukuzawa...
...You were playing detectives with Ranpo and Poe...
...You were listening to Fyodor's playing cello...
...You were doing magical tricks with Gogol...
...You were playing with Q and Elise...
... Dazai was protecting you...
... And all the characters were glad having you near them.
__________________
Derek was a wanted child. After your parents had you, they start spoiling him.
They let him bully you.
They protect him, if he bully other kids.
Then, one day, he got too far.
After school, you saw him. He and his friends had knives. They were torturing a blind homeless man.
You were scared. You want to help the poor man. But you were so afraid.
"Do what must be done"
Kunikida's main ideal.
You quickly take a picture of your brother on your phone and hurry to the police station.
____________
You were home alone. Your parents try to save Derek. But, it seems, this time, he will be punished.
You were playing BSD Mayoi. You had a backpack with your sketchbook and keychain in it with you. You did an eleven pull.
The purple moon shined above Yokohama.
And your parents got home.
The door to your room was opened. Your mother's hands squeeze your throat. Your father looked equally angry.
"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! HOW DARE YOU TO PUT DEREK IN TROUBLE!"
You tried to breathe. Your father raised a belt above you.
You didn't notice, that you finally get a Kirako Haruno SSR card.
____________________
The moment Kirako waked up, she grabbed the nearest person. Fukuzawa Yukichi.
Kirako tried to shake him. She was shouting.
"Please, tell me that you can send someone to their world! Quick!"
Everyone gathered around Kirako and Fukuzawa. The president tried to calm her down.
"Kirako, please, calm down, explain, what's going on?"
"We have no time! [Y/N]'s parents going to kill them! We need to hurry! Please, they are just a child. They are unloved by their family. They see us as their friends. We need to save them!"
Kirako choked on her tears.
"They have a Dazai's keychain. They call it their little protector. We can't abandon them."
Grave silence.
The sand-colored blur ran towards the unfinished portal.
Loud noise. Bright light.
And right before them were standing a woman, who was chocking a nine-year-old kid and a man, who was ready to strike a kid with a belt.
"Hands off, bastards!"
Dazai's fist hit your mother's face. Her grip loosens. Both she and you fall on the ground. Before your father can react, Tetchou's ability already pierced his hand, that was holding a belt.
______________
You were coughing. You tried to breathe in as much air as you can.
Someone picked you up and hugged you. You heard a voice. Familiar voice.
"You are safe. You are alright." "Poor thing" "I will keep you safe" "Osamu will keep you safe"
"Dazai?" asked you, still dizzy. He smiled and kissed your temple and forehead.
"Yes, I am here. We are here. You are safe."
"My parents?" quietly ask you, hugging Dazai in return.
"Don't worry about them. Just sleep. There is nothing to worry about."
You listen to Dazai and slowly fall asleep.
____________
When Dazai was carrying you towards infirmary, Yosano tried to take a look at you, to make sure that you are not harmed. The look Dazai gave to Yosano... Everyone realized, that, for now, Dazai won't let anyone near you.
Dazai carry you to the infirmary and, after taking off your backpack, putting you on the bed and covering you with a blanket, returns to the others.
Your parents were on the floor, held down by Chuuya's ability. They looked terrified.
Father spoke first. "Who are you? What's going on? Where are we?"
Mother growl. "How dare you hit me? I was disciplining that bantling..."
One kick in the face from Pushkin shut mother down.
The grave silence. Then BSD characters start talking.
"Doesn't matter, who we are" Akutagawa. Rasenmon opens its maw.
"It's not like you will understand" Atsushi. Sharp tiger's claw glimmer in moonlight.
"Doesn't matter, what is happening now" Fukuzawa. His sword was sharp and deadly.
"What matters, is what you have done." Verlaine. The look in his eyes doesn't promise anything good.
"Doesn't matter, where are you" Ranpo's smile doesn't look friendly.
"It's not like you can return home" Mori. Elise was ready to attack.
"You are monsters, who were hurting Our Dear Guiding Light" Teruko. She was ready to tear your parents apart.
"And it's unforgivable" Hawthorne. He was growling.
"But don't worry. We won't kill you. For now." Gin. She lazily played with her blade.
"We will teach you a lesson." Fyodor. He was looking at his hands, thinking, if he should use his ability oh your parents.
"We will beat you up." Goncharov. Earth start trembling.
"With legs" Kunikida. Tazer in his hand let out a loud buzzing sound.
"With your own legs" Twain. He cocked the trigger.
"You know what is the best part?" Ayatsuji. The smoke from his cigar slowly disappeared.
"Your legs would still be attached to your body" Gogol. His grin looked madder, than before.
One moment later, your parents screamed.
_________________
You woke up a few hours later. At first, you thought, that Dazai from yesterday was just a dream. But, you quickly realized that it was real. Because the first person you saw at the morning was Dazai. He was waiting for you to wake up.
"Mourning, my little one. Are you alright? Ready to met others?"
You nodded shyly.
"I am alright. But... I am afraid of meeting others. What if they won't like me?"
Dazai smile and pick you up. He rubs your head. He went towards the Infirmary door.
"Don't be silly. Everyone here loves you. You are safe here. You are loved here."
Dazai slowly open the door and walked inside the ADA office.
Immediately, you and Dazai were surrounded by other BSD characters.
"Hello, [Y/N]!"
"Hi, [Y/N]!"
"You are finally here!"
"We have been waiting for you!"
"You are so cute!"
"Want to spend time together?"
"Want some breakfast?"
They were smiling.
They love you.
You are wanted.
You smile at them in return.
748 notes · View notes
honkthehenry · 1 year ago
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unnamed slime game - part 1
Masterlist
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The way you suddenly snapped into awareness without realizing you drifted off at all was something akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water thrown into your face.
You... dozed off in class again. In hindsight, it was inevitable – the last time you got hours of sleep instead of something in-between nothing at all and a 2-hour-nap was last Saturday. You've been running on nothing but bitter, cheap coffee and sheer spite for almost a week now, it was high time you finally crashed.
Still, you should have woken up at Uni. You should have woken up to your professor huffing and puffing and glowering in your face about your terrible conduct, about how your generation had no respect for his generation, about how such a complicated and beautiful science like Robotics was not a place for slackers like you (which, fair, you had no idea what you were doing in Robotics either), not... alone and certaintly not in the middle of a forest.
You ran through a bunch of scenarios quickly, but none stuck.
Kidnapping? Far-fetched at best. You lived alone, only barely making ends meet by running yourself into the ground as you tried to marry working retail with being a full-time student, so ransom was out of the question and being kidnapped for the sake of doing bad things to you... Why bother? You didn't know anyone nearly well enough to be kidnapped due to personal feelings and you were neither good-looking enough (perpetually tired goblin that you were) nor famous-, connected- or skilled enough to be kidnapped randomly.
Besides, you were at the University, on the 5th floor, in the middle of the city that had no forests for miles! You were surrounded by 20-odd other people, there was no way someone would be able to kidnap you with so many witnesses around.
So, not kidnapping.
Dream then?
Also unlikely. Your dreams were few and far-between and when they did happen, it was either you being surrounded by characters from the show you happened to be fixated on at the time or it was you getting repeatedly chased and swallowed whole by a dinosaur on a loop, until the dream finally ended (probably Jurasic Park childhood trauma, now that you thought about it).
Still.
This was so weird, because you knew for a fact you were much too aware of everything to be dreaming and yet the things you saw didn't makes sense at all!
You didn't have any arms for one!
And your body was purple!
You could feel electricity zapping at your body and it didn't hurt, it was more like being swallowed in a blanket burrito and nursing a comforting mug of hot chocolate, while watching your favourite show with no worry for deadlines or money!
You weren't supposed to feel like that, you were supposed to be tired and grumpy and irritable and not nice and not toasty and certaintly not so comfortable!
Drugs? Hallucinations? You never partaked, you didn't drink alcohol either, so that was a no—
—A purple crystal you were under zapped at you again and you positively melted on the spot, basking in the feeling and letting the troublesome train of thought go like the wind, before it inevitably derailed and caused you undue anxiety as it always did.
...it was very nice actually.
Maybe losing opposable thumbs wasn't so bad if you got this in exchange.
You could live like this.
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×•×•×•× Honk!!! Corner ווו×
You know that one post lurking on Tumblr where OP is turned into a frog by a witch as revenge? And just vibes? Basks in the sun without worrying about life? This is MC now.
I don't care how long or how short chapters are, they're just gonna vibe as they are because I am a goblin with a short attention span and no actual ability to write.
Something to get you thinking - MC is an electro slime for a reason and that reason is electro immunity.
I wonder why?
*smiling like a particularly smug cat*
Did I mention I can't draw lightning/electricity? Because I can't, so I didn't.
Also fvck me, my tags didn't saveeeeee 😭
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creedslove · 2 years ago
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BETRAYED - PART NINE
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Pedro Pascal x f!reader
Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart
Warnings: fluff, like, a lot of fluff, implied age gap, mentions of death, and descriptions of a catholic wedding (I just wrote down how they go in my country, but no, it's not *the* wedding you're thinking about) and mentions of smut
A/N: Just one more chapter and we wrap up this story!!! I hope you guys enjoy this one because I know my heart melted while I wrote it!!!
A/N part 2: still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all!
3.4k words
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT
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One year later
You stood at the altar feeling excitedly but also a little anxious. A bunch of familiar faces stared at you taking in all the details of the ceremony that was about to begin.
You could even spot Pedro among the guests, he looked handsome, as he always did, his hair was a little longer now, making it wilder in a way it made him sexier than before. He noticed your eyes on him and winked, as if he encouraged you in that situation
And that's why being a bridesmaid was so fun. While the focus wasn't necessarily you and your group of bridesmaids, you were all in the spotlight while the bride took long to arrive.
You could practically hear all the thoughts crossing people's minds, how they judged the dresses, the makeups and the hairstyles. It always happened and you wouldn't be any exception, but not that you cared very much about it, as you were so happy for your best friend Nat tying the knot with her dream guy, nothing would bother you at all.
As you felt Pedro's gaze on you, burning your skin, you thought of everything that happened this past year. It didn't even feel real, after you left his home that morning, you never returned. And he kept his word of not coming after you, which was all you needed in order to get your life back on track.
The first thing you did when you got home was to change all the locks to prevent anyone from breaking into your house. It didn't matter if it was Liev, a burglar or Pedro himself. You never wanted to walk into your home, a place you assumed safe and find someone uninvited there. Then, your second part of your action plan was to look for another gym, so you could train without having to change your schedule every single time you didn't want to run into someone in there. You wanted to exercise, to see people, to feel the endorphins flood your body and not step on eggshells all the time. Needless to say, it was a good decision.
Then, you just focused on yourself.
You finally finished your studies, you found a job that made you happier and paid well too. You took short trips here and there, getting to know new places and you also looked at yourself in the mirror and realized you were more beautiful than ever, and that was why you were loving yourself, you took care of yourself and you put yourself in the first place, just like it should've been from the beginning.
You still had feelings for Pedro, of course, but the distance helped manage it, some days you were able to go by without even thinking of him, and others you missed him deeply. You didn't know if his feelings for you changed, but you weren't as close as you once were. However, you weren't estranged either. It was just that your lifestyles got simply too different and your lives took different paths, making it so hard to be around each other.
After Pedro's career took off he became almost impossible to reach - physically at least.
He was already well-known when you two had all that story going on, of course, but now it had reached stratospherical levels. He was a big deal, he was a big celebrity, all your social media was flooded by videos, his interviews and his pictures. You began following his career, from afar, admiring him, how far he'd come, feeling your chest burst with pride every time he was nominated for an award or you saw him walking down a red carpet. It was still disturbing to you to see how much he was harassed by the media, how he couldn't walk down the street without being photographed and how they picked on the whole daddy thing. Sometimes it was a little funny though, seeing him blush and her visibly embarrassed at that. You often chuckled to yourself when you eventually saw his fans writing the sweetest things about him, how they called him their boyfriend or future husband, if only they knew your story, they'd call you crazy for turning him down. Because to them, Pedro was perfect, a prince charming. And to you, he was just a human being, with flaws and qualities, like everyone else.
You two didn't go the whole year without speaking, quite the opposite, your phone would buzz eventually, receiving a text or two from him. And you would often text him as well. Just simple things: birthday messages, wishing each other happy holidays or checking up on each other. Nothing too intimate, but enough to show you still cared and worried about each other.
He watched your stories and liked your pictures, and you did the same. Being there, even if you weren't there anymore. It was confusing, but it worked for a while.
When you realized you were able to see his pictures with fans, co-stars and women you had no idea who they were and your whole body didn't heat up in anxiety and jealousy and your heart didn't drop at your toes, at the mere thought crossing your mind of them being his lay for the night, you knew you were ready to let him in.
Not exactly let him in, you didn't know if he still cared about you like that, or if you would still have anything in common, or if he would even bother becoming your friend again now that he had met some many different people. But you still decided to text him, best case scenario he would reply and you would have a conversation, worst case scenario he would leave you on 'seen' and you would move on with your life, because you lived for yourself now, and not for Pedro.
Of course he replied to your message right away. He smiled big when he read it and couldn't even believe after all that time you were the one engaging in a conversation with him. God knows how many times it took all of his willpower to erase the gigantic texts he wrote you and just drop a 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Birthday, mariposa' he'd promised you he would let you live your life, and just like a butterfly, he let you be free but now you were flying to him again - maybe, that was what he hoped at least, so he allowed himself to daydream.
You'd sent a simple text telling him how much you enjoyed his new series, and if he had time next time he was in town, maybe you could go for drinks. He replied almost immediately, saying he couldn't wait.
And your conversation began.
Slowly, you would text through the day about many things, while he was away and lonely, he told you all about his shooting routine and what he did for fun so far away from home.
You updated him on everything knew in your life, seeing how proud of you and happy he really got. You briefly mentioned you were thinking of learning a second language, to which he quickly suggested Spanish.
But when your uncle died you didn't get a text from him. Instead, Pedro managed to get a short break from filming and hopped on a plane. He wanted to be there for you, it didn't matter to him if he was going to be there as a friend or as a possible boyfriend, he just wanted to hold you while you cried because he knew how important family was to you. He wanted to attend the funeral by your side, to dry your tears and tell you comforting words. And that was exactly what he did.
You couldn't believe your eyes when he showed up there, in black and pulling you into his embrace, which reminded you it used to be your favorite place in the world and at that moment, it became your favorite again.
You had no strength to discuss feelings with him, and he wasn't after that either. He just wanted to try and make that moment a little less miserable for you.
But the moment the funeral service was over, Pedro would have to come back to his work again. He apologized a hundred times for not being able to stay longer with you, but you assured him it was alright, not forgetting to thank him for coming all the way just to be with you.
He said goodbye with one of his warm hugs and a peck on the cheek, that landed way too close to your lips, it didn't matter if it was on purpose or not. The damage had already been done.
From the moment you realized he had left his job - the thing you assumed he loved the most in life - for you without expecting anything in return. That familiar warmth in your chest appeared after months and months of it being dormant. It was hard to deny how much you loved Pedro.
•••
You had always heard horrible stories about women who agreed to becoming bridesmaids and had to deal with the infamous bridezilla. You were sure it wouldn't be Nat's case, but those women were not exaggerating when they said you would have to put a lot of effort, energy and even money to a moment that wasn't even yours.
While all the guests were comfortably sitting down, you along with the other girls and the bestmen had to stand up the whole ceremony. You knew the priest was probably saying beautiful words about love and stuff, as you could see the emotion in some people's eyes and how some of them even sniffed and shed one or two tears, but you were just not paying attention. Church services weren't really your thing, you tried really hard not to get bored, but it was too late, you were already bored.
That's why your eyes scanned the whole place, not really focusing on anything in particular, you just hoped time would go by faster and you wished you would all skip to the reception, because there were other things you wanted to do and mostly other people you wanted to talk to. You looked all over the church decoration and though it looked very beautiful and elegant you thought about how you would never have a wedding in a place like that. Then you watched Nat's wedding dress closely. Of course you'd seen it a couple of times already since the early stages of planning and preparing the wedding, but at that moment it looked different and you couldn't stop yourself from wondering if you'd ever get married at all and wear a pretty dress like that. You shook those thoughts away from your mine and looked at the guests absent-mindedly, not watching anything in particular until your eyes locked with Pedro's.
He didn't even blink and sustained your look, he was completely oblivious to a wedding happening just a few feet away from you, as you were really the only thing that mattered to him.
After flying to you for your uncle's funeral, you weren't able to meet again, as he was more and more caught up at work and you also had your own life. So when he got the invitation to the wedding, he didn't think twice before confirming his attendance, though he didn't really care that much about the bride and groom, he was still thankful to them.
You blushed softly and smiled big at him, he wasn't too distant, just a few rows away from the altar, close enough for you to see when he mouthed 'hermosa' making you look down in shyness. You knew Nat and Pedro had seen each other maybe five or six times and the only times she talked to him was to tell him how much her boyfriend - and now husband - loved Mandalorian. So you knew she had only invited him because of you and Pedro had only showed up to the wedding because of you as well. It felt quite good, you had to admit and for that, you even forced yourself to pay attention to the ceremony again.
Once the reception started you thought the fun would start as well, but you were wrong. Now, the bridesmaids duty kept you busy each passing second. First you had to follow the bride and groom to the photo session, then you had to assist the bride to make her big entrance, and after it you had to help her go to the restroom, which was the most chaotic part: four girls helping another lift up layers and layers of cloth in order to be able to pee.
And when you realized, it was already dinner time. As the food was served people stayed at their tables, usually guests were starving after the whole marathon of sitting through a long and tedious ceremony, then endless waiting until the bride and groom showed up.
The whole time you and Pedro exchanged looks and smiles, he even texted you in hopes to talk to you, but you were way too busy to check your phone, at the same time as soon as some guests recognized Pedro, he was bombarded with requests for selfies, autographs and girls throwing themselves at him. And he was way too nice to decline those requests even if it bothered him - though he declined the girls right away.
You thanked the heavens when dinner was finished, you knew the dance floor would be finally open to the guests until you remembered a very tacky wedding custom.
The bride was going to throw the bouquet. You pinched the bridge of your nose in embarrassment, you've always hated that moment, ever since you were a kid and your parents dragged you to relative's weddings.
Just a bunch of women going all savage over a couple of flowers made you cringe to the core, so you stepped aside and waited for the small crowd to gather. You tried to brush it off at the insistence of some people, but when Nat cleared her throat and gave you accusatory eyes, you even tried to argue. But she motioned her head towards Pedro and you saw him waiting for you to get in the small commotion. He had his hands inside his pocket and a dirty smirk, he couldn't wait to see you pick the bouquet, he was sure you'd look gorgeous.
You on the other hand felt embarrassed and awkward to stand there, Nat got in position and showed all the single ladies the bouquet, making them all shout in excitement. She looked at you and winked softly, and you gulped. Oh no, there was only one thing worse than fighting over a bouquet of flowers in front of a crowd of people, and that was definitely receiving the bouquet out of pity.
So when she threw it towards you, you stood still, making absolutely no move and watched it as it flew right past you.
You turned around and saw when two women were almost on the floor, struggling to get the bouquet. Nat frowned at you, confused as to why you didn't get it, you just shrugged at her. You didn't want to get married, there was only one thing you wanted to do, and when you thought you were finally able to do it, the DJ announced it was time for the waltz.
You rolled your eyes, as annoyance spread through your body. It had been hours all you were trying to do was to exchange a couple of words with Pedro, but that seemed impossible.
The guests all gathered around the bride and groom as they showed their rehearsed steps, some people swooning over them but you just looked around, trying to find Pedro, needing to see him and talk to him. But he wasn't there anymore.
Had he gone home? You knew he enjoyed parties, but you weren't sure about wedding parties, especially the ones where he was harassed every five minutes by people who insistently wanted pictures or just goof around a movie star.
But he wouldn't just leave you without saying goodbye, would he? Over the months your relationship became stronger even if you weren't physically close.
You were deep in thought as you felt someone touching your wrist, making you jump a little at the sudden touch and turned around, seeing Pedro standing there.
And he looked good. Very good.
He was wearing a dark suit, all in black. It hung tight to the right places as he looked absolutely like sin. His hair was messy like always and you caught a few gray streaks on his beard and that made you weak at the knees.
You smiled big and held his hand "Pedro! I thought you'd left!"
He raised his eyebrow and chuckled "do you really think I'd sit through a whole wedding and then leave before talking to the only reason why I'm here in the first place?" He held your hand and eyed you up and down, not even hiding how much he appreciated your looks "I don't mean to be one of those bitchy people who come to the party and trash talk it, but when we get married we'll have a lot less church and a lot more party"
Pedro's words stirred something inside of you, even if it was a joke, you felt yourself blushing.
"Too bad it won't happen, I mean, I didn't catch the bouquet so…" you replied in a shy way and made him laugh as well
"Yeah, well, we can figure this out later, right now I'd like to have a dance with the most beautiful girl at the party?" He offered his hand to you, and you hesitated at first
"It depends, Pedro" you saw his confusion, finding it quite amusing
"It depends on what, hermosa?" He questioned curiously
"Where's your plus one?" You saw how he frowned not really getting where you were going
"What plus one, Y/N? I came alone…"
You laughed softly and nodded, taking a step closer and accepting his invitation.
"I was just making sure, you know, I was friends with a guy once and he pulled such a jerk move, where he invited a plus one to a party and ditched her to dance with another girl and ended up taking this other girl home and left his plus one really heartbroken"
A deep shade of crimson spread through his face as he was at a loss of words for a while. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard.
"H-he sounds like a real dick" he replied a little self conscious, not sure if you were joking or playing games
"He really was, but I heard he managed to change into a better person and his plus one even forgave him after all"
His smile was wide and the relief in his eyes was visible as he wrapped his arms around your waist and glued your body to his. It was a slow ballad and you wrapped your arms around his neck at the same time you swayed your hips together.
"Thank you for forgiving me, I really missed you" he whispered against your ear, your faces were inches apart and you closed your eyes, his cologne lingering on your skin. You took your hand to the back of his neck, stroking his hair and feeling it softly between your fingers.
"We needed this, Pedro… I guess now we could start things over" you said and welcomed his lips against yours, as they crashed in a needy contact. You moaned lowly at the feel of his tongue against yours. His hands squeezed your waist and if you could get any closer to him, you would have, because you could swear that was not enough.
His kiss was intense and unlike the other times, he wasn't trying to overpower you and make you accept him playing dirty with your hormones, he was kissing you, feeling you and taking you as his. And you wanted it as much as he did.
When you broke the kiss, he nibbled your bottom lip, caressing your cheek and not giving a care in the world if someone filmed or photographed you.
You danced as if there was no tomorrow, as the ballad was over, you danced with Pedro to any kind of songs that came in the playlist, you had fun and when sexier songs came up, you dance even more, loving how you rubbed your body against his and Pedro never spared any neck kiss or groping your body.
By the time you could feel a tent against your ass, you turned to him, kissing his lips again.
"I guess it's time to get out of here, princesa" he whispered into your ear and squeezed your ass. You moaned against his lips as you couldn't agree more.
_____
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did, it was just so easy to write I was really into it. I loved it so much and I can't believe this series is almost over 😞 also, if y'all don't go soft on Pedro now I don't know what to do, LMAO
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