#and i had an anxiety attack both times :D

[promiscuousasexual]

sending non-anon asks is the first step to combating my anxiety i think

[heartofwritiing]

His sweater

paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader (featuring cc!tommy and cc!tubbo)

summary: you and wilbur are in a private relationship and one day while you’re streaming chat recognizes the sweater you’re wearing.

authors note: I wrote this a while back when I was coming back into writing. I'm sorry if its not as good as my usual stuff. the reader is a small streamer but she's close with all the britsh ccs, (bc she lives in the uk) she and wilbur are dating and no one knows not even their friends! but some of them do suspect it! I thought it was cute not sure if it's been done before and I really enjoyed writing it!!

warnings: secret relationship, anxiety attack, fluff, not proofread, and unedited!

It was supposed to be a relaxed stream, chatting and hanging out before Wilbur got home. That’s what it started as. You logged onto Twitch around 7:40 or so, after hanging out with Tommy and the gang for the day. 

Wilbur had gone to his office. He told you to head off without him and said he would be home in an hour or two after he finished editing. That was fine with you. You didn’t mind when he worked late since you didn’t go to bed until around midnight.

No one knew you and Wilbur were together. Like together, together. They thought you were close friends. Not even your friends knew you and sometimes hanging out with them was hard because you wanted to be all

It's not that you were embarrassed by each other. You wanted your privacy and time together to be yours and yours alone. You knew everyone in the group could be eccentric about romantic relationships. You knew deep down they would be happy for you but this was something you and Wilbur agreed to keep secret. For a while at least.

Only a few times have you let it slip when you were out with friends. Everyone knew you two were close so it wasn't that odd to see you being close.

Phill was the only one who knew what was going on. Because once he had caught Wilbur taking your hand in his while you walked side by side. You both completely forgot he was walking right behind you. Separating your hand from Wilbur's when Phill was giving you a knowing glance out of the corner of your eye. Wilbur felt you let go of his hand and he turned to you pouting.

Wilbur got the message completely, seeing Phil smirk back at him. Then, to make matters worse Tommy caught on to Phill being suspicious about something all day. Hence began the young blonde bugging him about what he was all smirking about all day.

Then there were times when you both streamed together. Whether it be at your house or even playing on the SMP, sometimes things would slip out on both your faults.

Like you’ll flirt with each other, or he’ll call you love, or darling. Small things that not everyone can catch onto. Everyone thinks you’re roleplaying anyways but you both know it's not. If you’re on stream you’ll hold your hands under the desk out of view of the webcam. Wilbur would caress your knuckles with his thumb, letting you know he was there. Or you’ll lay your heads on each other’s shoulders during late-night streams when you’re so tired. Little things like that, and of course chat goes nuts for it. 

They think it’s adorable how close you guys are. You love it too. , some people ship you guys but you ignore it, not caring about what they think. It wasn’t anyone's business.

So here you were taking a sip of water from your bottle and as you read the chat a donation came up and it made you perk up.

“Alyssa thank you for the four months!” you read off the donation with a smile. It made you happy that people wanted to stick around with your channel and found it a safe community to fall back on. That was what you wished for.

Your chat was going slow as usual since only about 2,000 or so people were watching. You were comfortable in your little corner.

Your eyes skimmed through the incoming text on your monitor. You froze when you saw a particular statement about your attire.

User: Wait is that Wilbur's sweater?!

You didn’t dare say anything as you tried to shake it off but the comments kept coming in after that faster than before. Everyone seemed to recognize it since he often wore this one in videos. 

You had forgotten Wilbur gave you his sweater sometime early in the night. It wasn’t cold in Brighton during the day, it was warm in the sun. The perfect weather for a band shirt and your favorite pair of comfy pants. But after sunset, you had gotten chilly and Wilbur had offered you his sweater.

You shivered as the chilly wind made goosebumps rise on your arms. You wished you had brought a jacket before going out. You forgot to check the weather and you didn’t think you’d be staying out all day. It was fine, you weren’t going to make a big deal out of it.

Wilbur, who is walking with Tommy glances in your direction. Noticing your shivering state with your arms crossed, you failed to warm yourself up.

Without hesitation, Wilbur pulls his yellow jumper over his head and jogs to catch up with you. Holding out his arm with the sweater all bunched up in his hand, he nudged you.

You turn to look at him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the realization of why he was handing you his sweater. He had noticed you were chilly and your stomach grew butterflies.

"You're shivering. I don’t want you to catch a cold."

You felt warm inside. You never thought you’d find the typical romantic gestures appealing but then you met Wilbur. Who proved you wrong. He was always a gentleman. It made you fall in love with him more and more.

You take it gratefully and put it on. The bright yellow contrasted against y/h/c and somehow made your skin glow. It made you look happy somehow, but it could be the fact you were wearing your boyfriend's sweater.  The smell of his cologne faintly lingers on it.

Wilbur blushed and felt a bit dizzy seeing you wearing his clothes sometimes, and now it was the same case. He thought you looked adorable and was glad he could help you be warmer.

“Thanks, Will,” you smiled.

You almost stood on your toes to kiss his cheek but stopped yourself short. You didn’t want the others to see. Wilbur didn’t care. He leaned right over and kissed your head quickly.

"Of course, darling."

You smiled at the memory of two hours ago as the chat was still spamming you with questions. You tried to ignore it so you booted up your saved game of Stardew Valley. Knowing everyone wanted an update on your farm.

As you played you would glance over to your other monitor and notice chat wasn’t letting up about the sweater. It was getting a bit on your nerves since chat was getting a little hectic and you wanted to have a normal stream. Suddenly you heard an alert for Discord on your computer and you perked up like a golden retriever.

“Oh hold on chat, I’m getting a message!” you say opening up Discord on the opposite screen, just in case. Hopefully, someone wants to join you for a game or chat with you for a while. You were optimistic about finding out.

You saw it was from Tubbo. You immediately got excited seeing a notification from one of your closest friends. Your eyes read his message carefully making your heart sink to your stomach.

Tubbo: Hey, Y/N I don’t mean to alarm you but you’re trending on Twitter. I think you should check it out. 

Below his message was a link and you clicked on it hesitantly, assuming the worst you were bracing yourself for. Twitter opened up to reveal a whole thread of posts involving various screenshots. You sat in your desk chair with your messy hair and Wilbur's sweater clinging to your body.

You tried not to show too much emotion on your face while you scrolled. Knowing that all your now 4,000 viewers were watching you with every beat.

Tears brimmed in your eyes as all this attention was starting to overwhelm you.

You typed back a reply to Tubbo.

This is bad, right?

You were trying so hard to keep it together, everyone was figuring out your secret. You didn’t want everyone to find out this way, especially not your friends. They deserve better.

No no no, they don’t know what they’re talking about and just ignore it.

Easier said than done tubs.

ik ik

I was watching your stream and I noticed chat being nosey and I could tell you were uncomfortable. Are you okay?

You moved your eyes back to the chat again. It was going even faster now. Your viewer count had gone up even more. Everyone was asking why you were being so quiet all of a sudden. You apologized to everyone before returning to your chat screen with Tubbo.

“I'm sorry guys just message my friend real quick.”

Yeah.

Listen y/n if it's true or not I’m happy for you either way.

I'm sorry you had to find out this way.

Don’t be. It’s not your fault.

Does anyone else in the group know?

Just me. And technically Ranboo but he hasn’t figured it out.

You giggled at that.

You were so enthralled talking with Tubbo that you didn’t even hear the front door open. Will was home, toeing off his shoes and hanging up his flat keys.

You typed to Tubbo that you were going to end the stream. Make up some excuse that you were too tired but you didn’t want to seem suspicious. That’s when Wilbur snuck up behind you and leaned down so that he could wrap his arms around your shoulders.

Chat went even crazy. Spelling his name in all caps. Chaos. Absolute chaos.

You instantly froze at the contact and stayed like that for a good solid couple of seconds in shock. The smirk on Wilbur's lips was still prominent, but what he did next stunned you more than you already were.

Wilbur leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek tenderly. His lips lingered on your skin. Burning. You always felt this way when he kissed you. It was sweet and brief. You could feel his breath across your skin when he pulled away. Like it wasn't a big deal that he simply kissed you in front of thousands of people. Looked up at your monitor and smirked when he saw your chat going ballistic.

“Oh are you streaming?” he asked. Of course, he knew you were streaming, and yes he did see the tag trending. Tubbo had messaged him as well and Wilbur thought now was the best time to reveal. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and he was yours. So he hatched a scheme in his head to surprise you by coming home while you were still streaming. So, you were in shock that your boyfriend had come in and kissed your cheek on camera. In front of your viewers.

You were a bit mad at him at the moment. Then you saw how cute he looked with his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the chaos issue from his work.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag now huh darling?” he hummed into your ear softly.

It made you flustered when you felt his lips brush your ear. 

“Now everyone knows you're mine.”

Your heart was beating a million miles per second. You couldn’t believe it was happening. You were so relieved and yet kinda annoyed with Wilbur at the same time for sneaking up on you. You wanted to swipe that cheeky grin off his face. He could be such a smart ass sometimes, but you love him for it. 

Now would be a good time to end this. You thought as you cleared your throat and kept your eyes on the chat log.

"Well, that's enough for me tonight, goodnight.” You finally say quickly, coming out of your flustered state.

"Bye chat,” Wilbur waves.

As soon as the outro screen came on you logged out of Twitch. Immediately, you lay your face in your hands and began crying. Wilbur grew concerned.

"Y/N?" He spun your chair around to face him. He got down to his knees in front of you and placed his hands on your arms. Your heart was beating in your ears, pounding as the situation became too much. Hitting that end stream button brought a sense of relief now that you could finally take it all in. Everyone knew. There was no going back from this. You were so sure that you'd never get a break from the constant questions and judgment that come with being a content creator. 

Besides you on the table, your phone was going off like crazy, vibrating and shaking with alerts. You lifted your head to stare at it in fright. Wilbur detected your uneasiness immediately and grabbed your phone to shut it off completely before turning his attention back to you. 

He brings his hand up to tuck strands of your hair out of your face and behind your ears. You try your best to begin a breathing exercise to calm yourself down. 

Inhale through the nose. 

Exhale out of the mouth 

Wilbur's touch begins to calm your racing mind and heart. His voice anchors you back to the surface of your deepest thoughts. 

Breath. Just breathe. 

“That's it, in and out." 

When you finally get your breathing down to somewhat normal and you surpass a panic attack. Wilbur doesn't say anything. Just holding you until you’re ready.

“I'm sorry,” you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut in shame. Tears flow out again as Wilbur shushes you. 

“Don’t be sorry, don't." He chastised.

“It was just a lot.” You sniffled. 

“I know, but it's going to be okay, you know why?” 

You shake your head from side to side. 

“Because I love you so much, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. It’s you and me,” he reassured. 

You smile tearfully. “I love you too.” 

The rest of the night you are spent curled up next to Wilbur, your phones turned off to enjoy some time together away from the internet. The sudden sound of your PC exploding with the sound of the discord call ringtone has you groaning and pausing the movie you both were watching. You had forgotten to shut it down during the chaos. Wilbur goes over to your monitor to turn it off but sees it's Tommy calling. Reluctantly he answers and the room is filled with the teen's loud voice. 

“Why didn't you guys tell me!” he shouted, his voice breaking up through the speakers due to his loudness. 

“Hello to you too Tommy,” Wilbur spoke. 

“Wilbur! I never thought you’d get any women!” 

Wilbur glared over at you as you burst into laughter. It was clear that Tommy was surprised and happy for you both but he was also being his obnoxious self. 

“Alright Im hanging up now,” Wilbur says. 

“No, no!” he laughed. “Im genuinely really happy for you two,” 

“Thanks, toms!” you shouted from your spot on the couch. 

“Thank you Y/N!!” Tommy exclaims. ”See Wilbur, at least someone appreciates my remorseful attitude,” 

Wilbur rolls his eyes and ends the call, shutting down your pc so no one else could bother you. You laughed as he made his way back over to you on the sofa so you could continue your movie. Wilbur was likely going to try and protect you from being bombarded by your friends too much if you decided tomorrow that you'd talk to everyone, You were nervous to face them but you would know that nothing was going to change that your friends supported you. 

[ang3lofsmalldeath]

steve harrington x shy-ish! needy! reader smut

inspired by this lovely piece of work from @stevestummy/nsfw blog @hungharrington 🫶

CW: d/s dynamics, praise, slight dumbification, shyness, reader has vagina, reader referred to as ‘girl’, unprotected PIV, & size kink but like in a steve being hung way, not in a fetishizing being skinny way.

minors DNI (not proofread)

lazy sundays were reserved for just you and your stevie. they weren’t always super “lazy”, every now and again he may decided to take his angel out for a sweet lil date. maybe a picnic or shopping trip. but today was in fact, lazy. after, rolling around in bed, kissing each other silly for a while, steve had made you both soup and sandwiches for lunch. then you sat on the couch together, curled into steve’s chest as he lazily played with your hair, watching some movie that you couldn’t remember the name of, and you had good reason to forget.

you had been wound up for your boy since the sun rose and splashed against his mole covered back. when steve woke up, and sloppily kissed your lip, cheeks, and neck, you instantly felt heat overtake your body. it didn’t help that steve had placed his whole weight on top of you, like an anxiety blanket. you went on like that for an unknown amount of time, it could’ve been minutes or hours. you wish it would’ve been for eternity, but alas, all good things come to an end. now, sitting so close to steve, taking the time to study the happy trail peaking out of his shirt and the soft bulge so visible in his sweats, you felt like you were going to die if steve didn’t touch you soon.

“stevie,” you whined, getting your boy’s attention, “i have somethin’ to tell you.” you watched steve’s brows furrow, clearly encouraging you to share. with a slight smirk on your face and your eyes shifting down, “‘m really, really wet.”

shocked by your uncharacteristic boldness, he breathily chuckled before urging you to get on his lap, “c’mere baby,” he said patting his lap. once you climbed into his lap, he said a sweet “hi honey,” before quickly attaching his lips to yours. huffing out of your nose, you accepted his attack, waiting a moment to fight back. his lips upturned into a smile the second you did, putting his hand on your face, he graciously slipped his tongue in your mouth. you stayed like that for a while, until your hips began to move against his. his mouth began to nip at your lips to your jaw to your neck, worsen the throbbing in between your legs until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“please stevie,” you begged as he pulled away to look at your features, “i want you,” you whined at him, almost begging.

“you want me what?” steve teased, trying to get your courage from earlier to come back. but, it didn’t as you just flashed him the biggest puppy dog eyes you had and whimpered a slight bit in response, “aw, are you being shy again, angel? let me help you then.” steve grabbed your hips and made you stand up as he pulled down your shorts, but left your underwear on. he patted his lap again, but your face fell into a frown in response as you climbed back onto him. he noticed this almost instantly, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“i want you to touch me, without my panties on, right now,” you whined, making steve only giggle in return, moving his hand to pull your panties to the side. then he just paused for a moment to make a remark about your behavior.

“my girl, so spoiled, huh?” he then began to lightly stroke your cunt with his two fingers, glancing down at it, he noticed how soaked you were and how wet his sweats were getting. cock straining in his pants, he began to circle your clit, trying to his baby ready as quickly as he could. “such a pretty little pussy my angel has, she’s so so wet for me,” you let out the loudest, pained whine either of you had heard up until this point.

“stevieee, i need you now, okay? please i need your cock, i can’t wait,” you begged, knowing steve had yet to let you to take it without at least making you cum once before due to the sheer size of his cock, but you wanted it so bad.

instantly hard as a rock to your proposal, steve wanted to say yes so bad, but he had to be certain you really wanted it. “sweetheart, are you sure? i dont want to hurt you.”

sighing, frustrated almost to the point if tears, you promised him, “won’ hurt me, baby, i can take it, please, ‘m so wet f’you,”

“okay be a good girl and take me out, honey,” steve agreed and so you did as he asked, shaky hands pulling his sweats down to reveal the hardness you’d been dripping onto this whole time. he was always big, like really big, but today his tip was extra flushed and leaking, veins straining against his natural curve making the concept of taking all him more intimidating than usually. once he was freed, he grabbed your hand, and put his palm towards, spitting in it than glancing back down at his cock. you gave him a few tentative strokes, watching his eyes flutter before cautiously lining yourself up with him. steve, ever the doting lover, grabbed your hips and began to sink you down onto him. you wouldn’t lie and say the sting wasn’t more intense than usually. it felt pretty good at first, but then it felt like he was tearing you apart with barely the tip of dick.

“wait, please, i can’t” you moaned, the ache in between you growing more apparent, “‘s too much, cock’s too big.” listening to your whimpers, one of steve’s hands moved to stroke your cheek.

“what’d i tell you, angel, hm? it was gunna hurt you. want me to stop, baby? let me eat your little cunt first and try again?” steve’s proposal did intrigue you, but you had other ideas. as you sat atop his cock, listening to him, your pussy had become to relax and flutter around steve’s tip, feeling much more comfortable.

“hmph, no, baby can y-you just stay and um,” you trailed off, grabbing steve’s hand off your cheek and lightly sucking on his thumb as his eyes grew twice their size out of curiosity and lust. once you popped his thumb out of your mouth, your hand, moved his back down to where you two were connected. you pleaded with him, “please, jus’ touch me and maybe stay right here, stevie? you can move a lil, jus’ really gently, okay? hurts t’much today,” for split second steve was confused about what you were trying to say, and then understood what you were asking for. he began to circle your clit while one hand moved your hips up and down

“oh, my spoiled baby, i love you,” steve dreamily sighed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “want jus’ want a quarter of it, yeah? can’ handle such a big dick in such a tiny little pussy? good girl using your words, y’know i’d give my girl anythin’ if you ask, honey,” steve spewed uncontrollably, more turned on than it felt like he every had been before. he watched your legs already start to quiver as your eyes squeezed shut. “lemme know if ‘t hurts, okay, sweet girl? wanna make you feel good, wanna make you cum on me baby.” you moaned out to his confession, his words spurring you on.

“feels s’so good, stevie, y’fillin’ me up so good, i-i feel s’good,” you babbled, as steve sped up his assault on your clit and pushed your hips just a little bit further down, at this point, still barely taking half of all his length.

“mhm, baby? must feel really good, you can barely talk straight right now. s-shit you’re clenching me so damn hard too, baby, fuck me,” steve teased you, groaning out as your cunt wrapped even tighter around him. he could tell you were getting close, and changed nothing about his work besides add a little more pressure to your clit, still rubbing tight wet circles on it. “y’gunna cum, sweet girl? this all it take? rubbing your little clit and giving you only some of my cock? that’s so cute, honey. fuck, why don’t you cum, huh? wanna be a good girl and soak my dick? make me s’so proud of y-you,” he stuttered out, trying to keep his composure, as you neared your end.

“uhuhuh, steve, i-i’m, mmm gonna cum- kiss me, please kiss-“ you pleaded with him before he kissed you hard. your legs squeezed shut, body rocking against his as you shook with the waves of your orgasm, finally, overtaking your body. it was so much all at once.

“i know, sweetheart, i know, feels so good, huh? cumming like that on me, yeah? look at your pretty legs shake, baby, jus’ breath love,” steve said when your mouth fell away from his. he shushed you as you continued to ride it out atop of him, tears welling in your eyes. once you had completely finished, steve took you off his still-hard cock and pulled you to his chest. “shit, you’re tremblin’ like a fuckin’ leaf, sweet angel,” he whispered before kissing the top of your head, squeezing you tight as you caught your breath.

you both sat there, for as long as need to as your legs stop shaking and your breath slowed to a steady pace. you were thinking about asking steve to come and give you shower, until you realized something: steve didn’t get to cum yet. you ripped yourself away from his chest, catching a startled steve dead in the eyes, “you didn’t cum yet, baby, can i help you please?”

he blushed at his sweet girl before responding, “wanna make me feel good, honey, yeah?” you nodded your head as fast as you could, your boy deserved to cum as hard as you did. “m’kay baby, but im real tired after moving y’hips like that, so why don’t you go and use that pretty little mouth of yours on my dick, sweet thing. yeah, be a good girl and clean your cum off m’cock?”

and that’s exactly what you did.

[ma1dita]

when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.3k

summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. split povs: pollux, annabeth, your depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint

(posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

[ripleylove]

SFW alphabet ; Rhea Ripley.

pairing: Rhea Ripley x fem reader.

genre: fluff <3

A/N: I miss Rhea. These are my thoughts.

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Rhea is for sure clingy. Like, she'd be always close to you, holding your hand or wrapping her strong arms around your waist,and she always wants to feel your touch.

I think she loves to show affection through kisses and,more precisely,with sleepy cuddles. Her arm draped over your body carelessly,while her left arm is under your head,serving as a pillow (best pillow ever besides her chest).

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

She would be those kind of friends that are a "ride or die": you and her would do the most stupid and insane things together,all while enjoying each other's company. Also, she'd be your safe place to run to at hard times,her always listening and always giving you advices would always make you feel better and,most importantly,special.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddles with her are MAGNIFICENT!!!! Like,of course she cuddles (and loves to be cuddled) and of course she'd be like a mama bear,cause her strong arms and her big figure would wrap you up like a burrito so perfectly, that you would never want to go out of her arms. Also,she loves to just spend days in bed with you,under the covers,in which the only thing that will be done,is giving and receiving cuddles.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

For sure,Rhea would be the most excited about settling down with you and starting a family: she only wanted you as her girlfriend, wife,and mother of her children. When she would see you playing with little girls and boys,she'd always have major baby fever,with one of her biggest smiles on her face.

To her,cooking and cleaning doesn't feel like any chore at all,if she gets to do it with you. For example, she would be eager to do the dishes with you after lunch or dinner,you would be washing and cleaning and she would be drying and placing the dishes in their respective places.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If she wanted to break up with you,of course she would talk to you about it. For any reason,for example the distance while going on the road or any lack of communication, she'd always respect the way you think and you would do the same for her.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Rhea,being head over heels for you,would be the most loyal person you've ever met. If someone tries to flirt with her,she'd always shoo them away,because no one could ever get her like you do. If,for example, you would get jealous of her TV relationship with Dominik,she'd do anything it takes to show you that it's all fake and that you're the only one ruling her heart.

She would like to get married 2 or 3 years in the relationship, because she doesn't want to rush things,but if the love you felt for each other was too strong,she'd propose as soon as possible.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

She'd be so so so patient it would make you want to cry. If you struggle with past traumas or anxiety, in the first months of this relationship she would do late night researches on the topic while you were sleeping,reading any tips about panic attacks etc.,so she could help you without feeling helpless.

Physically, she's also very gentle and sweet. After you'd come home late at night,very exhausted, she would remove your jacket and your shoes, before wrapping you in her embrace. I also think she's the type to lay you on the bed, and to massage your sore shoulders,slowly lulling you to sleep.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Oh,as said before,she's THE hugger. Almost a professional hugger,I must say. Head on your shoulders,arms wrapped around your waist,and you caressing her back: that's how she likes it. If she could, she would be attached to you 24/7,because your arms are so warm and so lovely and the list could go on!! Hugging her would feel like heaven, literally. Especially if she'd start to tickle you,that would be literal paradise,but anything she does is heavenly (duh).

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Oh,I think she'd say it in like 2 or 3 weeks. I SAID WHAT I SAID!!!! Because,c'mon,it isn't impossible to fall in love with you and your personality. The way you'd always blush around her,or how you'd always share your food with her,or even the way you'd shily slide you soft hand in hers. She would be head over heels for you,like,I'm not even joking. Also she'd be saying that she loves you every single minute. Over text,with calls, while colliding her lips with yours etc.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Rhea doesn't get jealous easily,because she knows she's yours and you're hers. But,sometimes,you don't even realise that someone is actually talking to you to get you in bed,and often you just mistake that intent for a simple and unhurtful small talk. And this thing happened many times in many places,for example in a a bar. Rhea,ever so caring and attentive,would notice that,and she would come over to you (and the person you're talking with) and put her arm around your waist. "So,baby,where do you wanna go now?"

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

The feeling of her kisses would be like feathers,her plump and soft lips lovingly meeting yours in a passionate and sweet kiss. While kissing,she would hold your cheeks with her rough hands,and you would caress her long hair,sliding your fingers through her black strands. Her favourite places to get kisses are: lips (obviously), neck,hands and head. (although, sometimes you would kiss the tip of her nose,and she would act like she hates it,but she actually loves it).

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Around children,at first she might be anxious, but when you'd help her to hold little babies or when you would join a toddler that was playing with barbies,she would start to warm up to the children. She'd have the preference to newborns and little babies,because she dies from their cuteness,but she also loves toddlers! This whole babies thing started when your bestfriend Mina asked you to babysit her children while she worked,and Rhea joined too. (Now she got a little attached to the babies,but this is a secret).

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

To be honest,mornings with Rhea are different based on her and your mood. If you both are tired,you would stay in bed until afternoon while either sleeping or cuddling while watching any TV series; If you both want to try cooking breakfast, you would try cooking pancakes (which often would come out either burned or raw) or,if you both feel motivated enough,you would even go to the gym with her.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Obviously, she's a night owl. She goes to sleep at least at 2 or 3 AM on a daily basis,and,as much as you try to keep up with her sleeping schedule,you just fall asleep as soon as possible. But,when you would manage to stay awake with her,you would be doing the most random things: playing uno,watching south park together,doing each other's make up... in the end,nights with Rhea are never boring.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Rhea would talk about herself and her past only later in her relationship. During your first date,she would talk about her passions,her likings and her disliking, but she wouldn't go past that. Only when she started fully trusting you,she would talk about her experiences, and about the sad and happy things that happened to her. And you would do the same thing for her,of course.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

As I already said before,she is the most patient person ever. She understands your struggles,and doesn't shame you,instead,she helps you to overcome them. She hardly gets mad at you,but when she does,she doesn't shout or raise her hands,she just closes herself in your shared room to cool off. And,obviously, everything goes back to normal after a good talk <3.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

She would be the human version of a memories box: she would remember any little detail of yours,your favourite color,what you like to do and even your habits. Everytime you tell her something about you,it's like a little drawer in the back of her mind opens,and in there gets stuffed the new information.

She would buy you a purse you told her you've always liked,and you would be surprised. "You remembered?" You would ask,and she would answer: "Obviously! It's the australian memory!"

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Rhea's favourite memory could be when you went to the beach together. You played in the water and even had a swimming competition (that she let you win). Also,you tanned,and while doing this,Rhea had her hand over your waist,and the print of her hand was very noticeable. She had to take a picture,that she even posted on her Instagram stories,and she laughed her ass off for almost 30 minutes,while you were sat here pouting.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Saying that Rhea is overprotective is and understatement: when you go out,she always holds your hand and always protects you from paparazzi,to keep you safe from any uncomfortable situations.

When you protect her though, she feels butterflies making their way in her stomach. For example, if a nosy fan would bother Rhea with uncomfortable questions,you would immediately jump in the situation and protect you girlfriend without hesitation (she thought about it for weeks).

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Even though she's often on the road,she always finds time and effort for dates during special occasions (or even to pamper you). Taking you to fancy restaurants, going on a walk together, taking you on the beach or even going to get nails together were things you would do on a weekly basis,since Rhea always likes to spoil you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

One of her bad habits is that she always cracks her knuckles, and you always scold her,and during your scolding she looks like a lost puppy (but she never listens and you keep on scolding her). "Rhea stop doing that!" You'd shout,and she would raise her hands in surrender. "Okay,Okay,damn!"

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?

She doesn't care that much about her looks,because she knows she's beautiful, and you even tell her everyday that she doesn't need makeup because hers it's a natural beauty; but she likes to take care of herself: doing her hair,her skincare,and choosing carefully her outfits. (she might get ready just to hear you compliment her,but nobody knows).

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh,without you,she would feel like every piece of her puzzle was missing,and she would make sure you know that. When she's on the road for RAW,you'd get a "i miss u :(" text at least every hour,and when she'd get to her hotel,she would immediately videocall you to stay up Kate while she watched you sleep <3

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

She would totally have a photo album in her gallery which contained 1000+ pics of you in any context: sleeping with drool coming out of your mouth,eating burnt pancakes,getting your make up done,and her favourite one is the one she took with her professional camera on your first date,that she still has in the back of her phone,in her cover.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I think Rhea would hate people who ghost others. This might be,as she thinks,one of the worst trait a person could have. Also she hates people who don't help people in need for their own dignity and image. These are the biggest red flags a person could have!!

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

She just has to be next to you,or else she won't even close her eyes. Your heat and your natural smell lull her to sleep,and,without having you sleeping next to her,it would be impossible for Rhea to feel comfortable in a cold and lonely hotel room. That's why,like I have said before,she needs to facetime you,because even seeing you sleep,makes her feel better. <3

taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx @p-mp @teenagedramaqueenlisa @thegalacticnacho091 @judgementdaysunshine

[sorrowsofsilence]

I Was Always Yours • 2

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 5.1k

Part One

Warnings: smut 18+ (mentions of PnV, wrap it b4 u tap it pls), fluff, female/male receiving, anxiety/panic attacks, swearing, alcohol, dirty talk

Summary: You grew up with Nick Ruffilo and Noah, but its been years since you’ve seen your best friends due to them being away touring. When Ruffilo came back to your hometown, opening his home tattoo studio, you get the opportunity to reconnect with him, and Noah. Deep down you’ve always had something for Noah, and it turns out he’s always felt something for you too. Perhaps seeing eachother years later, after you’ve both changed, sparked something.

Authors note: This is part 2! Initially I wasn’t planning on doing a second part but there was a lot of love on the first <3 so thank you! Hope you enjoy this one! (With 2 scenes of smut for all of us sick fucks to enjoy!)

PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

Noah’s back rested against the bedroom wall, the red LEDs illuminating his room. The clock read 3am, way past our bedtime, yet here I was, succumbing myself to Noah’s need.

“I can’t stop thinking about a few days ago,” he had said as I sat in his bed, days after we reconnected. I was playing on my phone while he was messing around on his computer, working on music. We had hung out non-stop since seeing each other; catching up, sharing stories, reminiscing, and just spending time together like we used to with an added activity.

“Me either,” I had replied, sitting up as my heart began racing thinking about it. What were we now? Were we still just friends? Things were not the same, things were different, but It was a good difference, it was how things always should’ve been…but was it the right choice?

“Nicks asleep,” he had said, turning his chair to face me. It was silent for a moment, as we had stared at each other, trying to read the expression on one another’s face.

“I need you so bad Y/N, you have me completely whipped.” He had said, before standing up and walking over to me: he had started kissing me rigidly, taking me into his arms.

“You need to earn your way back to my lips,” Noah whispered as he groaned deeply, his long, inked fingers tangled within the strands of my hair, wrapped around in a desirable hold.

He held my head in place firmly as my mouth slid up and down, hand holding the rest, tongue swirling around the tip. My legs supported me from below as I kneeled before him at his mercy.

“Christ Y/N, you got cheated on when you can suck dick like this?” Noah looked down at me, eyes fluttering closed before tilting his head back in bliss. His hips rolled into my face gently, beginning to fuck my mouth as his other hand joined the first, gripping the other side of my head, “Man's fucking loss,” he scoffed in disbelief.

I rolled my eyes and internally laughed, choking on Noah before looking up through my lashes, watching as his mouth hung open slightly, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Watching the hold I had over him turned me on immensely. He was falling apart because of me.

I gagged on him for a moment longer, pushing myself as far as I could, before pulling off of him, the string of saliva following my lips.

“Fuck,” Noah gave me a breathy laugh, looking down in awe with a lopsided grin “You were gone from me for too long, you’re telling me we could have been doing this years ago?”

I gave him a small smile, “I think we have a lot of missed time to make up for.”

I wrapped my hand around him, stroking up and down, rotating my wrist, before attaching my mouth to him again. Noah’s hands gripped my hair tighter, keeping me in place once again as he fucked me.

“Such a pretty girl, letting me fuck your mouth like this,” Noah pulled me closer to his abdomen as he hit the back of my throat. I gagged but closed my eyes to keep going.

“Y/N, look at me,” Noah demanded and my eyes snapped upwards towards his own, and he watched me watch him. With his lips parted he observed my every move, heavy pants heaving from his chest, shallow grunts pouring from his soul.

“Shit,” Noah’s body began to twitch, and seconds later my mouth was filled, threads of his release coating the back of my throat.

Noah tucked my hair behind my ears, rubbing his fingers down underneath my chin, “Good girls swallow,” he said, “all of it.”

I moaned at his words and obeyed, watching his eyes glint with satisfaction and complete reverence as I sucked.

Drinking in all of him I pulled away, and Noah leaned down, pulling my chin towards him, planting a kiss on my lips. I melted into him, sighing with contentment as he pulled up his black shorts.

“I was always yours,” he said, “but you keep proving to me that I’m never going anywhere ever again.”

+=+=+=+=+=+=

“Folio, Jolly this is Y/N: Y/N, this is Folio and Jolly,” Noah introduced me officially to Nick and Joakim, the drummer and guitarist, and I immediately felt giddy. Although known Noah and Ruffilo for years, I had never met the other two current members in person; only through photographs.

I had to admit I was a little excited, because I really did enjoy their music, and therefore have always wanted to meet the other two.

“It’s cool to see you guys in person and not on a screen,” I laughed shyly, shaking their hands. Folio squinted with his eyes, his crooked tooth smile even more charming face to face. Jolly pulled me in for a shake and a hug, catching me off guard. I felt flush as his long hair tickled my face, patting his back.

“Nice to finally meet you! Noah hasn’t shut up about you.” Folio said, grinning.

Noah ran up from behind, wrapping his arms around me, and lifting me up. I squealed with my back against his chest, laughing as he swung me around, playfully, “yea, because I missed her,” Noah laughed, placing his face in the crook of my neck, still holding on to me from behind.

I held on to his arms that crossed my chest, blushing at his signs of affection in front of his friends.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.” Jolly smiled warmly, “fucking goof.”

“So, you guys were friends growing up?” Folio asked as we all started walking towards the car. Noah had insisted I ride with the boys to the concert, coming early to spend time and see how everything behind the scenes worked. I told Noah I’d be happy to wait in line with the rest of the crowd, but he was taking this VIP very seriously.

“You want me to punish you if you don’t listen to me?”

Yes please, I had thought; but all I could do was stare up at him as he slowly backed me up towards the kitchen table.

“Noah,” I whined, tilting my head at him as he gripped my hips, his cologne filling my senses, “I’m going to watch the show from the crowd, but I’ll come with you everywhere else.”

My back hit the wood, and Noah leaned over me, placing a kiss on my forehead before kissing down to my lips.

“Good,” he mumbled, his hand sliding around my hip to behind, squeezing me, “but you better be behind the stage by the time I walk off at the end of Dethrone, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Yeah, Y/N, Noah and I went to school together,” Ruffilo said, offering me a hand to pull me into the car. I sat between him and Noah, Jolly and Folio sitting in the back row.

“Cool,” Folio said, before drumming on the back of the seat. I watched him, smiling.

“You’re pretty good at that hey?” I said, and he smiled back, shrugging.

“I’m hyped for today, I fucking love this place.”

We started driving towards the venue, and the closer we got to our destination, the more I noticed Noah’s anxiety beginning to spike. The entire time he kept his gaze out the window, hand gripping my thigh, resting his chin on his palm. His leg bounced rapidly, and ever so often I felt his fingers squeeze me, his hand beginning to vibrate.

I looked at him with concern, the smile from my conversation with Jolly fading from my lips as Noah took a brief sharp exhale, staying extremely still except for his leg. I placed my hand on top of his own, and Noah immediately stopped bouncing.

You okay? I mouthed, to which he shrugged, his dark brown eyes looking at me with apprehension before turning his gaze back out the window, the concrete jungle swaying past in a grey, lifeless blur. The boys became quiet, pretending to be preoccupied but watched; knowing that Noah was beginning to have a panic attack.

I flipped our hands, entwining my fingers with Noah’s and resting them on his moving leg, rubbing my thumb delicately across his skin. His hands were clammy but I held on in compassion, creating a soothing, rhythmic touch on the top of his hand. I rested my head on his shoulder, to which he placed his on top of mine.

Without saying anything I began to inhale through my nose, expiring throughout my mouth, and Noah eventually caught on, mimicking my breathing pattern. Opening up his palm, I ran the tips of my finger up and down each appendage, tracing the outline of his hand before circling his palm, moving from the centre outwards, before repeating the pattern. Noah analyzed my movements for a moment longer, and I sat up, turning my body to face him.

He watched me, eyes still filled with worry but transitioning to appreciation, before he closed his eyes, pushing his face into the side of mine affectionately. He stayed there for a moment, the soft breath of his exhale brushing across my cheek. With my free hand, I reached up, pushing the bangs delicately out of his face, running my hands through his hair, hoping the sensations helped distract him from his anxiety, even for a brief moment.

I felt sympathy for him, knowing that this must be the anxiety Nick mentioned that Noah’s struggled with lately. Fans have been crazy, and for someone who has always had a low social battery, I can imagine it must be even more difficult for him.

I gave Noah a small smile, before leaving in, giving him a delicate kiss of love and confidence, showing him that he is supported.

“Better?” I whispered, and Noah squeezed my hand in response, eyes lingering on me for a moment more before he let out another breath.

“I don’t know how I survived so long without you.” He whispered back, almost sighing in relief.

I couldn’t help but blush, resting my head on him again, and he wrapped his arm around me now, leaning me into his chest.

Once we arrived we were rushed into the building. Thankfully there were no fans out yet because we were so early- but I was glad because otherwise, rumours would start. Noah held my hand the entire way, only letting go once we arrived at the green room, and him heading to the washroom.

My eyes followed him as he left, the door closing quickly. I then turned to look at Ruffilo who patted me on the head.

“Nice work Y/N/N.” he hugged me, and I breathed into his chest, sighing.

Folio nodded in agreement, “Wow. I haven’t seen him calm down that fast in a while.”

I frowned, looking at the three of them sadly, “this is a usual occurrence?”

Jolly nodded, “unfortunately. Ever since the fans found out shit about where we lived and dug up stuff from his past, he hasn’t been the same.”

I turned, watching the door, waiting for Noah to return, “that breaks my heart.”

The boys nodded, agreeing.

“But honestly, we still have a fuck ton of fun,” Ruffilo said, reassuring me.

“Yea,” Folio said, beginning to drum the air, “now we get to fuck around until sound check.”

I laughed, “And that means?”

“Tomfoolery,” Jolly said, a glint in his eye, “and shots!”

+=+=

“Fuck I hate vodka,” Noah grumbled, eying the shot glass with a look of disgust, lip curling.

“Don’t be such a pussy, Sebastian,” I raised a brow, the boys cheering as I downed the shot, my nose scrunching as the alcohol burned my throat.

Noah plugged his nose before shooting it back, shaking his head as he swallowed it, coughing.

“That shit is literally vile,” he whined, chugging some juice to mask the flavour.

“Don’t be so dramatic pretty boy, you’re fine,” Jolly laughed, patting Noah’s back.

“You don’t know shit about fuck,” Noah glared, laughing.

“I don’t know shit about fuckin, but I know shit about everything else!” Jolly said, downing a shot himself, and I laughed, smiling harder than I probably have in years.

“Aight boys, time for soundcheck,” Noah said, before extending a hand for me to take. Entwining our fingers he led me with them. I had to admit this was very exciting, getting to see the process of how behind the scenes worked.

Once each section was set up, Folio started drumming, and I watched in amazement as his feet followed his arms, beginning to alternating patterns, hitting the double beat and cymbals.

“He’s extremely talented!” I said, appreciating the opportunity to watch Nick without any other sound present- just the drummer.

“Folio is a complete animal on stage.” Noah agreed, folding his arms and watching in approval.

It was Ruffilo’s turn next, then Jolly, and then Noah.

Noah held the mic close, fiddling with his earpiece, hitting a variety of notes. I watched in amazement, falling completely in love with his ‘acoustic’ voice. It was rare that I got to hear him bare, without any music.

Once they finished, they packed up, and Noah explained how the rest of the show was going to work. They were going to let the audience in soon.

“Are you sure you want to stay in the crowd?” Noah asked, reluctant.

I nodded reassuringly, “of course! I gotta get the bad omen experience.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Nick joined us, placing an arm across my shoulders.

“But- how else is he supposed to get a good luck kiss between songs?” Ruffilo teased as I leaned into him, slapping his chest playfully.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes, “he never needed those before and did just fine.”

Noah gave me a cheeky grin, “ok but now that I can have a good luck kiss, it’s gotta be a ritual now.”

I shook my head, smiling at him, “Whatever, I’m going to go get my fangirl on.”

I turned into Nick, squeezing him, “break a leg, but not literally,” I said.

“I’ll try not to or will I-“ he laughed, before turning to head to Folio and Jolly.

“I’ll let security know to keep an extra close eye on you, I don’t want you getting hurt- especially if a wall of death breaks out.” Noah said cautiously, “And I want you to be against the bar the entire time, and make sure to stay centred so I can keep an eye on you, ok?”

I tilted my head to the side, giving him a ‘really’ look.

“Noah,” I grabbed his t-shirt by the collar, standing on my tiptoes as I pulled him close to me, noses inches apart. Noah’s breathing quickened, his lips parting gently as his eyes trailed between my mouth and eyes rapidly.

“I’ll be okay,” I whispered, closing the gap between our lips, and kissing him hard. Our mouths moved together, Noah wrapping his arms around me, folding into each other.

I pulled away, Noah following reluctantly, moaning in protest.

“Good luck,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Noah kissed me again quickly, before letting me pull away. As I turned to follow security, he grabbed my wrist, holding me for a moment, his eyes darkening. I watched him confused, before the sentence left his lips.

“Don’t forget what I said, you better be backstage by the time Dethrone is finished.”

A flash of heat washed throughout my body as I nodded, and Noah smiled. “Good. See you soon princess.”

Noah walked away, turning back once to give me a brief wink, and I flushed, following security towards the stage. I hopped down, standing right against the barricade.

Within fifteen minutes the venue started filling, the string of fans running towards the front, some even beginning to push into my back. I held onto the bar firmly, not letting myself be shoved to leave the spot. I shared eye contact with a security guard and I nodded, reassuring him I was okay.

About an hour went by, and eventually, the lights went dark, and the fans erupted into a roar.

I too began screaming, the adrenaline of excitement coursing through my veins. Seconds later the stage lit up with a visual, a video beginning to play. Noah, lying on a mattress with an initiation mask began speaking:

Why do you care about these people?

They don’t care about you- none of them?

They don’t even know you- because you haven’t shown them.

Black and white visuals flashed on the screen, and my heart raced with excitement.

Every day, you’ll wake up, and there’ll be less of you.

You live your life for them,

and they don’t even see you.

You don’t even see yourself.

Jolly walked out on stage, still completely dark, but the guitar riff to artificial suicide began.

Can you hear me through the white noise?

Fans screamed, bodies pushing against me in excitement, waiting for the brunette god to walk onto the stage.

The bass dropped, Folio’s drum beat taking over Jolly’s riff, as Ruffilo walked across the stage, masked, bass pumping through my ears. Fans howled again.

“Can you hear me you sick fucks?”

The crowd went feral.

Noah strutted into the stage, the embodiment of confidence and poise, swinging his arms before stopping mid-stage, gazing over the crowd, a hand covering his chest in appreciation for the turnout. His face was covered, only his eyes and mouth barely visible, as a black jacket and hood covered his body- it was almost a shame he was so modest, but I knew that in a few songs, he would strip, leaving himself exposed in that tight, black, vest top me and every other Noah fan admired.

“Can you hear me through the white noise!” He screamed into the mic, raising it in the air as smoke filled the venue, and I hollered in awe, yelling for my boys.

“Soaked in the neon glows

Silver-forked tongues talking to you in the digital snow

A glitch in the chain, a loop in the brain

You wanted to break, but you still wanna play the game!”

Noah bobbed around the stage, Jolly and Ruffilo head banging and I took it all in. The lights flashing, the smoke, the raging excitement radiating from the crowd- I smiled, eyes brimming with tears. I couldn’t help but feel proud of Noah and Nick, almost in disbelief that this was for them. They’ve grown so much, and it was entirely different getting to be part of the crowd myself compared to watching them online.

I screamed until my lungs felt raw, my throat burning, sweat dripping down my face.

All of this time sitting inside, sitting in the dark

And every night I can see why you could never stop, yeah

Lying is hard, and the truth comes out anyway

You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate

Noah sat in front of me now, singing into his mic, his hair covering his eyes as I watched, completely fascinated.

There's no another way, don't let me go

Don't dig another grave today

I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know

Who I was before I faded away into the grey

I gazed at Noah as he walked across the stage slowly, singing intentionally with every word, eyes scanning the crowd before he landed on me.

The song finished, and there was a short break, before Noah came back, jacket gone, the only thing remaining a pair of black cargo pants, boots, and that stupid fucking tank top.

The lighting defined Noah’s arms, his tattoos glistened from the sweat, and my heart began to race once again. My mind began to race with a million thoughts, but it kept landing on how good he’d look with his head tilted back as I took him in my mouth- or how much I wanted him to give me everything from behind, hands wrapped around my throat.

“What is up my friends!” Noah boomed, waving his arms, as the crowd yelled.

“We are bad omens and we are so fucking thankful to be here tonight!”

Nick hit the kick peddle of the drum kit in excitement, acknowledging the fans.

“We are gonna play an old song for ya, how does that sound?”

The crowd cheered.

“Who knows if I’m there?”

The crowd screamed again.

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

Noah crouched in front of the crowd, reaching his arms out. He followed down the front, until stopping right in front of me. Arm extended, the body of hands around me grabbing onto his arms, but he left his hand open.

Noah sang into the mic, watching my eyes with every move. I stared up at him with a smile breaking out onto my face.

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

I didn't want to believe how much you needed help

And I just left you to be all by yourself

And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well

But I just came back to see how hard you fell

I raised my arm, grabbing onto Noah’s hand, feeling my breath hasten as an immense amount of emotions washed over me. Here I was, being sung to, in front of thousands of people- yet it felt like it was just me and Noah.

His words were for me, and my heart raced, pounding out of my chest as we gazed at each other. He squeezed my hand before letting go, making his way down the rest of the stage.

There was a short intermission, and I felt my phone buzz.

Checking it, I noticed Noah texted.

‘Don’t forget what I said.’

I chuckled, shaking my head as I responded.

‘I’ll be there you dork. You guys sound fucking amazing, you’re killing it.’

Seconds later, Noah responded.

‘Don’t take your eyes off me for this next one.’

My breath hitched in my throat, and the lights dimmed inside the venue again, before the bass began, introducing The Death of Peace of Mind.

My mind began to race again, and as Noah stepped onto the stage, his eyes immediately latched onto me.

I made another mistake, thought I could change

Thought I could make it out

Promises break, need to hear you say

You're gonna keep it now

I miss the way you say my name

The way you bend, the way you break

Your makeup running down your face

The way you touch, the way you taste

When the curtains call the time

Will we both go home alive?

It wasn't hard to realize

Love's the death of peace of mind

You're in the walls that I made with crosses and frames

Hanging upside down

For granted, in vain, I took everything

I ever cared about

Noah never broke eye contact during the entire song. Despite walking across the entire stage, his eyes never left mine- and I refused to let mine leave his.

I miss the way you say my name

The way you bend, the way you break

Your makeup running down your face

The way you fuck, the way you taste

Noah ‘Look at me’ Sebastian let his fingers flow to his lips, taking the shape of a V as he licked between them, the crowd going ballistic. I felt my own stomach begin to churn.

You come and go in waves

Leaving me in your wake

You come and go in waves

Swallowing everything

Are you satisfied?

The crowd screamed again, and once the song finished the introduction to Dethrone began. I motioned over the security, who helped me crawl over the barrier and escorted me away from the crowd. As I headed up the stage and walked behind the curtain, I watched the side view of the performance, the boys thrashing out their last song of the night, all energy put into this song.

Here am I, take me to the pearly gates

So I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face

Here am I, take me to the pearly gates

Don't let 'em hit you on the way out when I take your place

As soon as the song finished they walked off stage, the crowd screaming behind them. All the boys smiled as they passed me, nodding sweatily. Noah on the other hand immediately grabbed me, kissing me firmly.

“Good fucking girl.” He said, smiling as his chest heaved with exhaustion. My face blushed again, especially knowing everyone around us heard his praise.

The crowd was screaming behind us again, and the boys had two minutes to compose themselves before going out to wave and bow. I waited patiently, watching them run out and smile with gratitude at the fans below them, throwing an assortment of picks and guitar sticks.

After a few minutes, the boys came back, and before I could say anything Noah instantly grabbed my wrist, pulling me along with him.

“Where are we going?” I asked, confused, but my insides bubbled with excitement.

“I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you,” Noah muttered through gritted teeth, sending my heart into a frenzy of nerves. He tugged me through the halls, before finding a door, shoving me into the room.

It appeared to be a smaller version of a green room, the only things inside being a washroom and a couch. Almost like it was placed here just for us.

Locking the door swiftly behind him, Noah led me to the black letter couch sitting down, pulling me onto his lap.

I straddled him, his hands working their way underneath my skirt, gripping at the now-exposed skin.

“You didn’t wear shorts?” Noah moaned, almost instantly hardening at the realization. His tattooed hands ran along the back of my thighs, squeezing periodically, bringing his lips into my neck, biting at the skin gently.

“Do I turn you on that much?” I breathed hastily, closing my eyes, enjoying Noah’s worship over my body. He was fully indulging in me, taking every moment for himself.

“You don’t even fucking know,” he whispered, tugging the shirt off of my body, letting his lips trail across my shoulders, “the only thought I’ve had lately is what it would be like getting to eat you out after performing.”

I smiled at his words, closing my eyes as his lips trailed along my torso, my hips beginning to grind into his. “Are we— are we really going to do this here?”

Noah hummed in response, squeezing me to symbolize a yes.

“Let’s make your thoughts a reality then?” I whispered, and Noah’s eyes leered at me, completely insatiable with hunger.

His hands roamed across my body, and as I rotated on top of him, digging my core into his own, he let out a low groan, body thrusting upwards, slowly.

Noah’s hands pulled away my underwear, leaving me fully exposed underneath my skirt. “God I love the idea of you having nothing on underneath this, such easy access.”

I heard voices passing down the hall, and my head snapped towards the door, chest pounding.

“Th-There are people outside this door—” I said, pushing off Noah slightly, but his inked arms wrapped around me, pulling me back.

“Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” Noah said, chuckling lowly, “Just sit on my fucking face already.” 

Noah stayed sitting, but pushed himself deeper into the couch as I crawled up, allowing myself to be right above him, almost hanging over the couch; his breath left a cooling sensation on my skin, and I shuddered in anticipation.

“Spread your legs for me,” Noah demanded, pulling at my thighs.

“Spread them wider,” he said, and I tried, splitting myself completely for his need.

“Noah, please,” I whimpered, my body soaking for him, yet dreaded not being touched.

“Look at you,” he tskd, letting his long fingers rub along my folds, “coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.” 

“Please,” I whispered ever so lightly, gripping into the back of the couch.

Noah’s fingers danced around my skin for a moment longer before he explored my body, inviting himself into my space and causing my thighs to desire to squeeze shut; but Noah held a firm grip, forcing me against his mouth. His tongue circulated me, before he sucked, moaning against my sensitive skin.

“Jesus Christ, I love the way you taste,” Noah slapped my behind, squeezing so hard I knew there would be a mark. I winced at the impact, but my body began to convulse against his lips as he assaulted me where I needed him most.

“F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that,” I moaned, rolling myself into his skin, trying to create more friction for my need. One of Noah’s hands left my skin, trailing down towards his cargo pants as he freed himself, and began to touch his own body.

“I want you to fuck me so bad Noah,” I cried, pushing into him desperately as I watched him pleasure his own impulse, slim fingers cascading through his heat.

“You’ll get that once we get home.” He said, panting from beneath me, “I want you to come all over my face.”

My mouth hung open as my orgasm built, ears began to ring. I let out a moan way louder than intended, causing Noah to begin to thrust into his hips, his body twitching with complete craving. His breathing quickened and I felt him struggle against me as I cried out, pushing against him one final time as I came undone, and Noah released all over his taped hand, rubbing out his own desire.

I panted, pulling myself off of his face and down into his lap, sitting on his mess.

“Imagine how amazing you’ll sound when I’m fucking you senseless.” Noah’s eyes were closed as he smiled and tilted his head back in satisfaction, out of breath.

After a moment I pulled him into a kiss, and we whispered praises against one another’s lips, which was met with gentle moans. 

“I love getting to know you like this.” He sighed, pulling back to look at me as we heaved together, exhausted.

I smiled at him, pressing my forehead against his own, appreciating what Noah and I had begun to build amongst our friendship.

I kissed him again, softly, my body flushing with heat again, “Will you let me ride you when we get back?”

Noah’s deep October eyes opened with lust, staring me down once again with an immense amount of need. “Only if you moan my name for everyone to hear.”

Oh god help me

[moonstruckme]

Hey! I absolutely adore your work :D If you wouldn't mind, could you maybe do poly!Marauders x GN!Reader who is having/had a panic attack? So they're just really exhausted and anxious, but our boys are taking care of them? If not, don't worry haha

Thanks lovely <33

cw: panic attack aftermath, anxiety

poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 752 words

You’re slick with sweat, and yet you can’t stop shivering. James’ hand is steadfast on your back,  fingers spread wide as he drags it up and down your spine. Somehow he knows to apply a good amount of pressure, grounding you here on your living room floor. 

“I’m okay,” you say, to yourself or them, you’re not entirely sure. You take a big, shuddering breath, your lungs aching like an overworked muscle as they expand. “Sorry about that. I’m okay now.” 

“You don’t have to be.” Sirius matches your quiet tone, sitting with his legs crossed under him on the floor in front of you. “Take your time, baby.” 

Remus stands from behind you on the couch, disappearing into the kitchen and returning a minute later with a glass of water. He sets it down in front of you.

“Only drink it if you want,” he says. 

You nod, and you do want, sipping at the cold water and relishing the feel of it in your sore throat. You let out a breath when you finish, setting the glass atop the coffee table and leaning sideways until your head hits James’ shoulder. 

Your boyfriends are being quieter than you would’ve expected. Certainly quieter than they had been when the attack came on, Sirius and James launching questions at you rapid-fire and scrambling to find out how they could help before Remus had shushed them harshly and given you the environment you needed to calm yourself down. You’re sure they’re still brimming with questions now, but they’re patient enough to put their curiosity on hold, just sitting with you while you will the tension in your muscles to ease and your heart to beat at a normal pace. 

“Tired, sweetheart?” James murmurs, hand following the curve of your spine from your tailbone to where your neck meets his shoulder. 

“Yeah.” It comes out a sigh. 

Remus hums. “Your body just went through a lot,” he explains, more for James and Sirius than for you, you think. “Do you want to lie down, love?”

You nod, and Remus reaches down to steady you at the elbows, helping you up. You’d like to think he’s being excessive in his cosseting, but your trembling worsens as you stand. Your legs feel made of rubber underneath you, and you waste no time sitting down again on the couch. 

Remus gets up to make room for you, and you spread out, trying to convey to your body that the danger has passed. You cover your eyes with your hand, pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to quell the headache you feel coming on.

There’s a gentle whoosh of air, and then a soft, heavy blanket settles over you. You open your eyes to find James tucking it around your feet, and you send him a grateful smile. 

“Sorry about that,” you say again, though you know they don’t want to hear it. You just aren’t sure what else to say. “Thanks for helping me through it.” 

“Anytime, angel.” James gives your feet a little squeeze through the blanket. If you weren’t so exhausted you’d probably be a lot more embarrassed about that. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, you know. That seemed…really scary.” 

You nod, because you don’t know what else to do. It was. It is. 

“Is there anything else we can do to help?” Sirius asks, and you’re both touched and heartbroken by the worry in his voice. 

“Thanks.” You give him your most reassuring smile. It’s a small, feeble thing, but hopefully enough to comfort him a little. “Actually, do you think you could wake me up in a little while? I just…it’s sometimes hard for me to sleep the first night after a panic attack. I don’t want to make it worse by napping all day.”

Sirius flashes a smile. It’s maybe half its usual wattage, but it’s something. “Sounds good, sweet thing.” 

You look between your boyfriends, feeling awkward and a little bit dramatic for the past hour’s events. You can’t decide whether to apologize or thank them again, but Remus seems to see the words warring on the tip of your tongue. He reaches over to brush some hair from your face, his knuckle stroking gently down your cheek. 

“We can talk about it after you wake up if you want to, love,” he says. “Just get some rest for now, yeah?”

You nod, snuggling into the blanket and closing your eyes. 

“We’ll be here when you wake up.” 

[ageofevermore]

IT MAKES YOU MINE

SUMMARY — in the days leading up to your twentieth birthday, you seek the one thing you’ve never been able to find; your soulmates

WARNINGS — anxiety attack, omegaverse, soulmates, natasha being a worrywart 

heart masterlist, tomorrow at one 

In all the ways to spend the days leading up to your birthday, you had never that you’d sulk your way into a convention center for lost Omegas. Truthfully, you had always thought that you;d have no problem connecting with your pack, and your mates, but in nineteen years, you had never even seen an Alpha bear a soulmark similar to yours; and you have five. In nineteen years, that endless fire of hope that burned in your belly dwindled farther and farther down until it became a dull spark, the butt of a sparkler on the fourth of July– hopelessness. 

The convention center is just about as busy as you would’ve expected it to be, but it doesn’t comfort you any to know your worries were right. It was the first convention of the summer season, a period of months where being without a meaningful relationship weighs on hearts the most. For you, summertime and Christmas hurt the worst. For you, living through these weeks and months with nothing but isolation breaks your heart into pieces that can't be mended.

Growing up, you were never an overly excitable or happy kid. You tried your best in your academics, in your relationships and extracurriculars, you were sweet, and you were easy, but you were riddled with paralyzing anxiety that always pulled you out of the fun you were trying to drown yourself in, and as you got older, depression kept you fully on the shore. Most doctors have assured you that being united with your pack will ease your symptoms; headaches, nausea, spells of dizziness, and paralyzing dark days that bind you to the center of your empty bed. For as hard as your symptoms prove to be, you’ve never had any luck like your mother. Your mother passed away two years ago in the same way your father had been taken. If you had one thing, it wasn’t a clean track record.

Being in the convention center was enough to set you on edge. The soulmarks that decorated your soft body burned the longer you remained uneasy, just like they did every time, and your breath began to pick up in the shallows of your scratchy throat. You’d been in the convention center for all of thirty minutes, already desperate for an exit despite a lack of booths. Alphas hadn’t even began to scour for their lost omegas and already you needed an out.  

A defeated sound escaped your chest as your arms brushed against other excitable Omegas. You knew this would become just another bad idea, especially when you decided to come alone, after one-to-many anxiety attacks that became like rabbit holes of bad days, you had promised your mother that you would stop venturing out of your safe spaces alone; that had only lasted a few weeks after her death before it felt suffocating to always bother your less than affectionate and very intentionally scattered siblings.

You were in a disoriented panic, so focused on the blinking red exit sign ahead of you that you hardly realized that you had set her course straight for a female Alpha. It wasn't intentional, really it wasn’t, you just needed to escape, and the women had been right in your way. But, you hadn't known that until you went barreling into her chest. The Alpha growled deeply in her chest, having not expected to be plowed into, but her defenses fell at the submissive whimper that escaped you.

You couldn’t look up from your trembling hands, stuttering over an apology as you bounced between both feet nervously,  "S-Sorry Alpha. I wasn't, I wasn't looking. S-Sorry."

The woman, having not intended on staying at the convention long anyway, could easily scent the presence of an anxiety attack presenting within your chest. An anxiety attack that had been presenting long before you had stumbled into her space.

"Omega." The woman's voice was steady, and dominating. It wasn't at all her Alpha voice; that would've had you on your knees, but rather a dominating tone that she tucked away to work quite a few kinky minded men and women into submission. It startled your attention away from your fingers successfully, and your soft brown eyes went wide seeing just who you had stumbled into. Not only had you disrupted an Alpha's personal space, but Natasha Romanoff's. That only sent another harsh wave of anxiety rippling through your tight belly.

"I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry, Ms. Romanoff. I didn't, I'm so sorry!" If Natasha weren't so worried about your increasing heart rate, she would've smiled fondly at how skittish you were with a fluttering heartbeat that sounds like butterfly wings in a breeze. She'd hardly had any good experiences at conventions like these, especially once she's been spotted, but she felt responsible to overlook and make sure the presenting Alpha's had the right intentions with these otherwise vulnerable, and most times bratty, Omegas.

Natasha looks over the nametag pinned to your soft colored top and she prused her lips in admiration, Y/N. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. "It's alright, Omega. Come on, let's get you somewhere quieter." Natasha takes a hold of your trembling right hand, cursing lowly at how cold you must be if your icicle fingertips were any indication. She's not sure if it's from your  anxiety or just general coldness either.

"N-No it's really okay. I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." You anxiously responded, trying to pull away from Natasha but failing with how weak you had become beneath the clutches of an attack. You hadn't had one in months, and it was becoming apparent as you were rusty in all of your self-regulated coping mechanisms.

"Omega," Natasha flickers her eyes down to the nametag again, "Y/N, I wasn't asking."

You whimpered, dropping your head in shame and submission as you allowed Natasha to lead you into a small conference room isolated from the rest of the madness. It was only when the door was fully shut that you could remember how you had to breathe to calm your racing heart; something you often forget when you become like this.

"Hey, none of that." Natasha fret, pulling your cold and clammy hands away from your forearms when you began to scratch at them anxiously. God, she didn't know why she felt so drawn you, but every part of her body was screaming at her to help by doing more than just standing idly by, but she didn't know you, and she didn't know what you responded well to. "Good girl." Natasha praised when you let her grab your hands, not even trying to pull away this time.

"It's loud in there, huh?" Natasha cooed. She's experienced a handful of panic attacks herself, all due to her time as an assassin and an avenger. She didn’t want to imagine what had triggered this in you. When the Omega gave her a soft nod, eyes flickering around the room nervously, Natasha let go of one of her hands; that were shaking significantly less, and touched her chin softly, leading her gaze back to her emerald eyes. “You’re safe in here, Omega. But I need you to focus on me, okay? Y/N, hey-” Natasha doesn’t get the chance to continue. She would’ve asked the trembling girl to start counting to five, but before she could, a sweet albeit timid and shaky voice was ringing in her ears.

“P-you.” She pleaded shyly, cheeks becoming a hot red at the prospect of sharing her name with the Alpha. you was never the best with figures of authority, especially in such a vulnerable state. It’s one of the reasons her mother homeschooled her for so long.

“Hey, okay sweetheart.” Natasha smiles softly, not wanting to startle the Omega that’s slowly beginning to find her footing again. Natasha doesn’t even think she’s noticed that she’s stopped shifting her weight, and that she’s gripping onto Natasha’s hand like she’s dependent on it. God, her heart is going to ache when she has to let this little Omega go.

Natasha still hadn’t found her Omega. Her ache for that intimate connection was intensifying as the years passed, and it was often a conversation at pack meetings. By all means, Tony Stark could have found their Omega seven times over in a matter of hours, but they didn’t want it that way. They wanted to feel the magic of meeting by accident, by authentically falling in love and discovering one another. But God did Natasha crave one of these sweet creatures to call her own through every dawn and dusk.

“How can I help you, You?” Natasha asked, backing the two of them up so that she was sitting down in the office chair, looking up at You. Her jawline was soft, but her bitten lip and clenched teeth made it appear harsher than it was. That tension started to fall from her face when she looked down at Natasha, feeling like she had some of the power in this position. Natasha had hoped moving to sit would give You that security, and her lips twitched watching the brunette girl come apart from her worries.

“Y-You’ve already helped me.” The Omega frowned, not understanding what more Natasha was willing to do for her. This was more than anyone had done for her in months. You hated being alone, but it was easier to leave when she didn’t have anything to hold onto.

“You’re still shaking, honey.” Natasha frowned, reaching for the younger Omega and leading her forward. “I’m going to pull you into my lap, is that okay?” Natasha asked, tracing every feature on You’s face to indicate she wasn’t okay with that kind of contact. She understood completely if the Omega protested. They were strangers. Even if biologically they were Alpha and Omega, nothing would permit for You to be stripped of her right to choose what she was comfortable with. “I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.” Natasha smiled fondly when You nodded. She hadn’t even had to think about her response, just nodding softly and shyly. Natasha was beginning to think the brunette girl in her arms didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

“Please.” You’s cheeks burned, her chin dropping farther into her chest as she recoiled into herself. Natasha felt her belly spark at the sight, biting back a giggle at the submissive of the Omega. She would’ve pressed for more than from the small girl, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t get more than a whiny ‘please’  in response.

Natasha moved to grab at your waist, letting go of your hands fully for the first time in twenty minutes. You felt like you were floating again, like a butterfly in the breeze, without her grounding touch, but breathed in sharply when Natasha’s fingers brushed against the skin of your hip accidentally. In the Alpha’s innocent attempt to pull you into her embrace, her bracelet had gotten caught on a loose thread of your shirt, revealing a small pink soulmark on your hip.

Natasha’s eyes were glued to the pink mark, her own heart rate increasing in her chest. Right where the skin on her hip was scarred over from a soviet slug, right in the place where all of her mates had her soulmark, you had the same one. A pair of pink ballet slippers etched in first position.

At the hitch of Natasha’s breath and her following silence, you jerked backward, away from the Alpha, away from her touch, away from her comfort. Your thoughts were once again reeling at the prospect of what could’ve happened to change the atmosphere between the both of you so drastically, and the calm Natasha had helped you work towards had been dismantled easily, panic settling alight in your belly again.

“I’m sorry! I-Im sorry, Ms. Romanoff. I’m sorry, A-Alpha!” You sobbed, backing yourself into a corner when the distant glaze in Natasha’s green eyes softened once more and her breathing evened out as she pulled herself together. There wasn’t any time at all for Natasha to react, to ease your spiraling panic and start the settling process again, because by time she got her emotions into check, and could fully process how badly you were blubbering, the world became dark. The walls felt like they were brushing against you, the floor felt like it was opening beneath your feet, farther and farther away from your head as it chased it, until eventually your body crumbled and your consciousness went with it.

-

The convention center clinic smelt like expired antibacterial, and the scent was beginning to give Natasha a headache, but she hadn’t been too focused on it. After coming to her senses, and admittedly, acting on her Alpha impulse which she hadn’t wanted to do at all, she had called for the med squad to assess you in the lower level clinic. Natasha would’ve felt more content taking you back to the tower, but she knew that was a major overstep. She hadn’t had the chance to tell you about the soulmark, hadn’t had the chance to ask if you had any more, and she was almost positive that you hadn’t made the connection from ballet slippers to Black Widow.

Natasha had learned quite a bit from the medical staff as they rushed around the small infirmary. Their frantic rushing wasn’t in concern for your condition, they were just frazzled by the presence of an Avenger, and if she weren’t so in her head with worry, Natasha would’ve laughed. The staff had managed to pull up your medical records, leaving Natasha’s heart heavy in her belly just thinking about all that her little Omega suffered. Anxiety, Depression, PTSD. It seemed that your list of horrors was ongoing and unforgiving.

Natasha was on her feet at the first sign of you coming to consciousness. You, her omega, whimpered sleepily and in discomfort, shifting around the stiff cot until you abruptly recognized that you weren’t at home. Natasha forced a smile onto her lips, stepping into your line of sight and watching as your heart rate spiked on the monitor you were attached to.

“Hey, Hey, you’re okay, love. You’re okay, darling.” Natasha coos. She wants nothing more than to reach out and brush strands of unruly brown hair from your eyes, but she doesn’t want to cause another surge of anxiety through your already tight and recovering belly. “No, don’t pull that out sweetheart.” She stressed, watching you fumble with the IV in your arms.

The medical team explained your condition to Natasha after the Alpha had worriedly bared her teeth at them, saying that the small Omega had fainted due to the severity of the anxiety attack, but her severe dehydration hadn’t helped her either. Already Natasha was making that a note in her head. Three cups of water a day, at least.

“I-I don’t, please.” You begged, still focusing on the IV in your arm. You hated needles, and already feeling on edge in your own body, the intrusion of something you feared wasn’t a comfort. You had managed to pull the medical tape off of your arm, leaving a stinging feeling to bubble on the sensitive skin, but that’s as far as you had come before Natasha was grabbing your hands.

“You’re dehydrated, darling. It’s going to help you feel less dizzy.” Natasha enlightened, though she was sure you knew what it was doing. If fainting was on your chart as a common symptom of your anxiety, she was sure that you had been in this situation at least a handful of times. Seeing that the distress on your face didn’t ease, Natasha’s stomach clenched in guilt. She wished she knew how she could help. As an Alpha it was her job to bring peace and comfort to her Omega, but you were a stranger to her. She’d never been in such a difficult and intimate situation with her mates until much later in their relationship; this was all painfully new.

“Water.” You were floaty with the aftermath of anxiety and sleep, and Natasha could see as much. “Water.”

“We can get you some water, sweetheart. Can I leave you for a minute?” Natasha asked sweetly, not wanting to startle you when you looked to finally be settling into her comfort again. Guilt was ripping apart Natasha’s belly and had been for the last hour. Her reaction to your soulmark was the reason they’re here after all.

“Don’t leave. Don’t leave, please! I’m sorry.” You sobbed, beautiful brown eyes brimming with tears as panic swarmed your chest again like a constricting blanket. You hated hospitals and infirmaries. You hated being alone. You hated your anxiety, and how it claws up your chest and paralyzed you. You hated needles. Natasha was the only thing even remotely settling about your situation.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Omega.” Natasha’s tone was soft, but it was firm. It left you no room to argue, but neither of you believed she had the energy to do so either way. “I won’t leave, that’s fine. I can stay right here, but I will have to call a nurse then, okay? We can’t get you some water if we don’t move.” Natasha teased lightly, hopeful that it would ease your tight chest. You smiled bashfully, dipping your head down to look at your intertwined fingers.

“Are you okay?” You whispered so softly, Natasha almost hadn’t heard you. Her heart melted looking into your soft brown eyes, wondering how you were all alone at a convention like this when all you had done was prove that you have a heart of gold.

“Of course, I’m okay.” Natasha smiles softly, squeezing your hands.

“You got so quiet.” You whisper, scared that mentioning what had happened in the conference room upstairs would upset the Alpha and she would leave you here alone. “Did I do something wrong? W-When we were in the conference room?”

Natasha felt her heart grow three sizes at your revelation. She hadn’t even realized that was what you were implying, but the thought of you being so kind and attentive made her heart swell with pride and adoration. Maybe she was crazy, but already, she could see you fitting in perfectly with herself and the pack. You were exactly the sweetness that they needed, especially with Clint’s recent coming and going.

“Hey, keep breathing for me, sweetheart. You’re doing such a good job.” Natasha praised when she noticed the spike in your breathing again, your words coming out quick and stuttered. Natasha had never had to be this soft with any of her mates, it was refreshing. She felt like she was needed, as opposed to just feeling like she belonged. They were two very different feelings she’d come to find out. “I have a lot to tell you, sweetheart. But I think that pretty head of yours should get some real rest before we talk about it. But yes, I’m okay. I pinky promise.” Natasha had a feeling that you would enjoy the lighthearted gesture at the end of her sentence, and she wasn’t disappointed by the smile that split your cherry lips wide. You raised your pinky for Natasha to link her own with, a blush settling across the apples of your cheeks.  

“I’m okay to talk about it, if you want. It would help me feel better.” You said shyly. Natasha just wanted to squeeze you, but she refrained from physically melting at your reassuring words meant to comfort her. How was it that somebody in so much pain was so sweet and kind?

“That pretty little soulmark on your hip,” Natasha began, watching every miniscule part of you for your reaction. She knows the boys would’ve wanted to be with the both of you when you found out, but a part of Natasha knew that a situation like that would put you on edge for days. Already, Natasha was overwhelmed with an urge to protect you from harm, to love you entirely.  “Is my mark.”

You flinched backward, away from Natasha and into yourself and the uncomfortable white cot. You pulled her hands out of the Avengers embrace, dropping them into your lap as they began to tremble again. Natasha wasn’t offended by your reaction. She’d expected worse if she was being honest. Bucky had screamed and cursed when he had found out that Tony Stark was his mate, and when Tony had found out that Steve Rogers was his head Alpha, all hell had broken loose in the tower for days. You was a gentle addition to the memory book in Natasha’s head of all these moments, a light ripple in the waves along the shorelines, a monarch butterfly drifting in a sweet spring breeze. You were refreshing.  

“B-but, you have Mr. Barnes! And-And, Mr. Stark! And Mr. Barton! And Mr. Rogers! A-And I’m just me.” It was Natasha’s turn to flinch. In all of the responses she’d come up with in her head. Of all the responses that she’s heard and been told of, never once had she thought you would feel out of place because of her social status. Never once did she think her sweet little Omega would put herself down all because of wealth and class. All because of the initiative.

“Y/N.” Natasha couldn’t help how rough her voice became while addressing you, but she wouldn’t allow your insecurities to fester any deeper than they already had. Your brow quivered at her tone,  “You are our equal. This,” Natasha lifted her shift, revealed the outline of her mark to you. It was a beautiful thing really. How on your own body, your mark is just a simple sketch, but on your mates it’s so much more. It’s a soft color that represents them, most are usually black, but Natasha’s, hers is a beautiful soft pink. She wishes she could bear that color on her own skin. “Is my mark. It makes you mine. It makes me yours.”

“C-Can I see my mark? Please.”

Your soulmark is a simple, sweet, heart. It’s just to the left of where Natasha’s heart actually sits, and only half colored in with a soft brown ombre. Brown had never made sense to Natasha or her mates, but seeing you, feeling your radiant and elegant energy, falling in deep with your soft and gentle mannerisms, brown was the perfect color to describe you, though not to take away from how beautifully soft your hazel brown eyes are. But, now understanding why the heart etched on her body was half empty broke her heart. You were a lost little girl. You had always been a lost little girl. You had always felt half empty. Natasha hoped that being united, being together, would change that quickly. Natasha hoped that sometime soon you would come home to her and them.

[spencerreidswhore187]

Like Real People Do

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Things take a wild turn for Emily and the team when a sudden elevator glitch strands her with her crush.

Word Count: 0.7k

T/W: Claustrophobia

The elevator jerked to a sudden halt, and the flickering lights plunged the confined space into an unsettling darkness. You felt the panic clawing at your chest as an overwhelming sense of dread settled in. The walls seemed to close in, and your breaths became shallow.

Emily's eyes widened, recognising the fear in your expression. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" Her voice held a tinge of urgency.

"I-I'm claustrophobic," you stammered, your hands trembling as you clutched at the railing.

The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the distant hum of the malfunctioning elevator. Emily's mind raced as she desperately tried to think of a way to distract you from the impending panic attack.

"Okay, okay," Emily muttered to herself. "Bad jokes, bad jokes work, right?" She forced a smile, attempting to ease the tension.

But the jokes fell flat against the thick atmosphere of anxiety. Your breaths quickened, and the small space felt like it was closing in faster than ever. Emily's attempts at humour seemed to exacerbate the panic, and the weight on your chest grew heavier.

"Think about that case in Texas," Emily suggested, her voice strained. "The undercover mission, spilled coffee—"

"I can't think, Emily!" you snapped, surprising both yourself and Emily. The panic had taken hold, and rational thoughts were slipping away.

Determined to find a solution, Emily stepped closer, her eyes searching yours for a lifeline. "Okay, okay. Think of something else. Remember the time we almost got caught by that unsub in the abandoned warehouse? The adrenaline, the fear, but we made it out together."

The memories flooded back, but they did little to quell the rising tide of panic. In desperation, Emily cupped your face in her hands, forcing you to meet her intense gaze.

"There's one more thing I've been meaning to do," Emily whispered, her lips brushing against yours in a desperate, heated kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as the unexpected gesture sent a shock through your system. Emily's lips were warm and demanding, and for a moment, the world outside the elevator disappeared. When she pulled away, her dark eyes bore into yours, searching for a reaction.

As Emily's lips left yours, the weight on your chest seemed to lift, replaced by a different kind of intensity.

"I like you, more than just as a partner," Emily confessed, her voice raw with vulnerability.

The confession hung in the air between you, the urgency of the moment leaving no room for pretence.

"I—I like you too, Emily," you admitted breathlessly, the truth spilling out in the aftermath of the chaotic encounter.

Her eyes widened, a mix of surprise and relief flickering in them. Before either of you could say more, the elevator jolted back to life, the sudden movement catching you off guard.

The doors opened to reveal the rest of the BAU team, their expressions shifting from concern to pure shock at the sight of you and Emily in a tight embrace. Garcia's eyes widened comically, and she let out an exuberant gasp.

"Finally!!" she shouted, jumping up and down on the spot, her excitement infectious. The rest of the team exchanged glances, a collective realisation dawning on them.

Hotch, with his stoic demeanour, raised an eyebrow but couldn't hide the hint of a smile. Rossi chuckled under his breath, Morgan grinned knowingly, and JJ's eyes sparkled with amusement. Even Reid couldn't help but crack a small smile.

Emily and you, caught in the midst of a revelation, exchanged a look before breaking into sheepish smiles. The team's surprise gradually transformed into warm smiles of approval as they observed the unspoken connection between you and Emily.

"We were worried sick!" JJ exclaimed, stepping forward to hug both of you.

Morgan clapped you on the shoulder. "Looks like the elevator did us all a favour."

Rossi, ever the wise elder, added, "Sometimes it takes a little pressure to bring out the truth."

Garcia, unable to contain her excitement, wrapped her arms around both you and Emily.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

A/N: Thank you for reading ◡̈

[locke-writing]

Alright, I've had enough.

If you guys are going to write dialogue involving Toby Rogers/rewrite in any way, I suggest going for a more complex representation of Tourette's Syndrome than just stuttering and twitching. It would give him more dimension as a human being in your stories.

Tourette's is a fluid kind of syndrome. The symptoms, tics, and severity can drastically change over time. Tics can be acquired and/or dropped over the span of months, and can worsen with stress. Tic attacks are also a thing that exists.

Some symptoms that you could depict:

Repeated and uncontrollable facial expressions. This could lead to him smiling, frowning, grimacing, etc. in inappropriate situations. It's rough.

Jerking of head or limbs (not twitching, full-on jerking.)

Compulsion to touch specific textures repeatedly

Throat clearing as a tic

Whistling as a tic

Tongue clicking

A tic could also be an animal sound like a hyena laugh or a bird call. Try to stay away from barking as a tic. My personal opinion, he lives in the woods and hears birds pretty much all day. Some of the sounds have stuck.

Compulsion to repeat phrases and words (echolalia.) This includes vulgar words and phrases, but doesn't always have to be. These can often inject themselves into the previous sentence; it can be both pretty annoying and sometimes funny, if the person with Tourette's humors about it.

If it's bad, a tic could be an action of self-harm, like slapping, pinching, or hitting an area of the body.

(This can also happen when someone cannot self-regulate intense emotions, which is something Toby tends to... not do.)

With Tourette's, one can develop OCD-like habits and often pairs with ADHD, anxiety and/or depression.

The acknowledgement of premonitory sensations could also help write Toby with a bit more depth. He has some warning before a tic hits; do with that as you will.

Suppressing tics is also a thing, and can lead to a tic attack later in the day if it gets bad. Tics can lead to muscle-cramping, joint pain, accidental self-harm, and pain in the face, eyes, and throat if the tics are worse in that area.

D-d-don't w-rite T-Toby like a b-blushing s-schoolgirl.

Something more vulgar could be like,

I have had-popop!-had lifelong, unmanaged genital herpes... uh, wait, no, Tourette's Syndrome. My bad. *laughs* Damn, that one was pretty bad.

Or the word could be completely irrelevant to what he's trying to convey, which could get frustrating with his short temper,

Hey, do you got a lemonhead? Sorry, I meant a l- lemonhead. No, fuck. Wait. I need a... a lemon-a lighter! Fucking hell, just give me a lighter, please.

[hobie-enthusiast]

hiii !! if it’s not too much trouble, could i request a comfort one-shot for hobes ? basically reader is at a pub watch one of hobies friends play, and there’s just too many people around and they start to have a panic attack, hobie pulls them to a quiet spot and helps them calm down. it’s okay if not, i’m just such a sucker for comfort things, especially w my bf, it’s ok if not tho !! hope ur having an amazing day/night :D

FIVE COLOURS !

— hobie brown x anxious!gn!reader

— comfort, panic attacks, implications of drinking, implications of injury, petnames, hobie being the best bf in the world, anxiety and mentions

— you truly thought you could make it, so you asked hobie to take you to a concert

— happily! this is based off my experience (i have anxiety with crowded public spaces), so apologies if it doesnt match what u had in mind 🫶

Hobie carefully led and maneuvered the two of you inside the pub, right by the stage. The lights were colourful shades of blue and purple as the band onstage set up. Hobie called out to one of them, prompting the singer to come over to him.

You look around the venue instead of listening to the conversation. Everyone seemed happily relaxed before the show started. More continued flowing in, greeting each other like old friends.

More.. and more people..

No. You told yourself and Hobie you would be fine tonight. You assured him that you wanted to go, wanted to support his friends and hang with them. This was something you wanted to do.

“Yea, ‘s my partner.” Hobie’s voice suddenly brings you back as he slings an arm around your waist. “[Name]. Brought ‘em out tonight t’ see th’ group.”

The friend turned to you, eyes lighting up. “Righ’, heard ya talking about them. Nice t’ meet you.”

You give a small wave before turning back to analyze your surroundings. Hobie glanced at you before dismissing his friend to finish setting up.

“Aye, we can go t’ the back if ya want.” He says once you face him again.

You quickly shake your head. “No. I said I could do this. We’re here to support your friend, don’t worry for me, okay?”

As much as Hobie wanted to protest, the lights started to flicker in the pub. He sighed and gave you a nod, yet never letting his hand off of your waist.

He wouldn’t tell you, but Hobie was very worried about you. He knew what your needs were; you were someone who needed personal space and hated when strangers touched you. It was something that spiked your anxiety, leading to pretty bad panic attacks.

Hence why he was so hesitant to bring you here. But he knows. He knows how guilty you feel about it. He knows that you feel like you owe him something.

So when you asked him to bring you tonight, he reluctantly agreed.

Before he could think further into it, the band finished setting up, announcing they were starting. The music began playing and everyone around followed; singing and dancing with each other.

Hobie smiled down on you, taking your hand and twirling you in a circle gently to the music. His friend wasn’t in a heavy punk band, but rather a more mellow rock type. Hobie thought it was perfect to take you to for your first time.

A laugh escapes your lips as you spin into him, his arms encircling your waist. “Doin’ alright, sweetheart?” He whispers in your ear, loud enough so you can hear.

You nod as the two of you dance to the music together, smiles etched on your faces. You both were enjoying yourself, song after song, listening to the talented band.

At least, you were.

As the night went on, more people continued to shuffle in the pub. There was less room, and honestly you wouldn’t have noticed. But then a guy roughly shoved into you, causing you to trip right into Hobie.

He immediately sent a glare the guy’s way. “Aye, the hell’s wrong with ya?”

The man, clearly to have been drinking, responded with something about you being fine, but you couldn’t hear. You were suddenly becoming very aware of the amount of people, and how many were close to you.

Your eyes widen as you feel that all familiar feeling of the air leaving your lungs. You gasp, turning yourself to be able to reach Hobie’s hand, tugging at his fingers.

Hobie’s mind wants to immediately talk down whoever had the audacity to touch you like that. But his anger dissipated when he felt your hands tugging on his fingers and rings.

He requested that the two of you have some kind of non-verbal signal that your nerves were rising. Something he can use to easily identify the panic. And you both settled for tugging his hand, pulling in a one-two motion so he knows.

He knows you’re about to have a panic attack.

His hand immediately moves to shove the guy out of the way, tightening his hold around your waist. He quickly ushers you through the people to try and get to the door. It’s not practical, but he can’t get out otherwise.

The more people that touch you the more you spiral. It’s disgusting you. The way they all just slam into you makes you wanna scratch your arms till there’s nothing left. Just to get rid of their lingering touch you feel.

Finally Hobie makes it to the door, shoving it open and you out. You’re hyperventilating at this point, breathing erratic as you grasp onto Hobie’s vest with your free hand in tears.

Hobie leads you to the back alley behind the venue. “Shh, I know I know.. give me a second, please darlin’.”

Glancing around, he ensures the coast is clear before shooting up towards the roof of the next building, taking you both up there. He knew it was quieter than the back alley, perfect to try and help you best he can.

“Alright alright..” He whispers, keeping his tone quiet. “‘m ‘ere with ya, okay?”

Hobie’s words were there, but not quite there. You were off in your own world of panic, breathing heavy with jumbled thoughts. You instinctively fall to sit on the rooftop, hands harshly rubbing your arms to try and get the disgusting feeling away.

“No no.. aye..” Hobie speaks, taking a seat next to you and gently placing his hands on yours. “Can’t do that.. gonna hurt ‘urself ‘f ya do..” He pries them away from your arms to hold them.

You shake your head, more tears coming to your eyes. God you hated this. More importantly you hated how weak you were. Couldn’t go a single night without freaking out.

Hobie uses his hold to pull you forward, right into his lap. “Shh, ma’ch m’ breathin’.. ‘u’re safe, yeah? Safe up ‘ere.” He assures continuously.

“Aye, ‘member our game?” He whispers, hugging you close.

You’re too far out of it to form actually words right now, so you nod. Of course you remember. Accordingly he used it on anyone he helps, if they truly need it.

“Alrigh’ good.. I need ya t’ play with me.. name five things ya see, ‘kay?”

Your vision was oh so blurry, you couldn’t see anything. This made you panic more. You shook your head, sobbing into Hobie’s vest as you cried out.

He mentally slaps himself. “righ’, ‘m sorry.. ‘ow ‘bout we try..” He thinks for a minute, trying to figure out a way to ground you. “Give me.. five colours you see, ‘mm? Can ya do that, darlin’?”

Now that was more achievable. Blinking rapidly, you peek out from your closed eyes, forcing words to come out.

“Black..” You start, latching onto the colour of Hobie’s vest-jacket first. “Uhm.. B-blue? Wait no.. I..”

You feel yourself start to slip but Hobie is quick to catch you with his voice. “Stay wit’ me, mmkay..?” He whispers, hands moving to gently rub on your arms. “Three more, please sweethear’. ‘ur doin’ amazin’.”

Soon enough, you manage to get out three more colours, Hobie praising your efforts like there was no tomorrow. He moved on to the other senses; four things to hear, three things to feel, two things to smell, and finally one to taste.

The longer this went on, the better you felt. You managed to match Hobie’s breathing pattern before going back to your own. The blur in your eyes faded and you could start making out the thoughts going through your head.

“I’m so-”

“No.”

You glance up in confusion, yet sighing after. “Darling, please.. I-”

“Said no.” He responds, looking down at you with a gentle expression. “Never ‘pologize for ‘ur feelin’s. ‘m serious.”

This was the routine after each one; attempted apologies and stops, lots of quiet time, then eventually sleep. And you were both okay with that. After such an overwhelming situation it was exactly what you needed.

“We can go back in.. or you can and I can go home.” You compromise, looking down on the venue. “You shouldn’t miss out because of my stupid-”

Hobie shakes his head, again cutting you off. “‘s not stupid. And no. We’ll head out toge’er.” He assures you, standing and offering a hand to help you up.

You stare up at him for a minute before smiling. You take his hand and wrap yourself in a hug. He smiles and ruffles your hair before shooting a web, swinging back to your shared apartment. His eyes stay trained on where he swings, yet every now and then he takes peeks down to check on you.

Once you managed to make it back home, Hobie was insanely attentive to you. He told you to go shower (because everyone knows pubs and panic attacks don’t exactly leave you the cleanest). While you did that, he fixed up the room to suite your needs. He darkened it, grabbing comfortable blankets, cleaning it up, anything you need.

After you shower and settle down, he’s got you entrapped in his arms in bed, letting you lie to where your head can lie comfortably in his chest. Though the night didn’t go as he planned, he wouldn’t trade spending the end like this for anything else.

A selfish part of Hobie wishes that this part of you was non-existent. That the two of you could enjoy being out together without this ball of anxiety prodding at you. But Hobie knew that he had to help you through this. That this was hurting you more than him.

“Thank you, Hobes..” You whisper, planting a soft kiss to his jaw.

Yeah, thank-yous and kisses like that from you are his motivation to always protect you, even from yourself.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I just thought of the perfect excuse for Wukogn to come down from the mountain in Soft Boiled au! If Yuebei is a ribbondancer, she had to start young. This means Wukong had to enroll her in classes for it at some point. Imagine if, after winning some competition, Yuebei was actually IN the parade as one of the dancers! This means she, unfortunately, was smack dab in the middle of the chaos, hidden behind a glamour. This could be both how her dancing troupe and otber friends finds out about her being a monkey... and the world at large discovering Sun Wukong had a daughter if she hadn't been known about beforehand.

To make things angst, imagine if she had left her asthma inhaler with Wukong so it wouldn't get lost/damaged in the performance. And unlike Redson, Yuebei didn't escape without being captured. Luckily, SQ isn't willing to actually harm a little girl like that, even if she is Wukong's daughter. In fact she finds the fact Yuebei is such a Daddy's Girl and Wukong is so protective of her extremely amusing and kind of sweet! Unfortunately Yuebei ends up having an asthma attack tho, just form a mix of tbe bad quality air in the mech, the excitement and exercise she had, and jsut waking up feeling kinda bad. And since Wukong has the inhaler and both are currently trapped, they have to rely on their captors to be kind enough to get Yuebei her inhaler from Wukong's pocket. And it isn't SQ who is in the room when it happens.

Macaque was spying on them from the shadows and watching as Wukong damn near begged LBD to let him save his little girl, actually crying tears as the bone witch just laughed in his face, not caring about the girl. She grabbed the inhaler andjsut threw it on the ground in front of him, stepping on it, before walking out. Once he was sure LBD was gone, and Wukong was distracted trying to help his daughter and keep her calm, Macaque made his move. The medicine disappears into a shadow portal and Macaque slides out next to Yuebei, inhaler in hand. It's a very tense moment before Macaque proceeds to help Yuebei use said inhaler, but he won't cut them free.

Not without a VERY overdue conversation with his ex.

Prev.

Oohh that would be so cute <3

Wukong noticed Yuebei's interest in ribbon-dancing a long time ago, and found it a good way to get her to interact with regular kids roughly her age but under supervision. Wukong may be a bit of a helicopter parent, but none of the other guardians or teachers judge him for it when he expains that Yuebei is health-compromised.

Yuebei thinks her dad is super embarassing, sitting on the sidelines with a whole doctor's office in his bag, cheering for her and her group for every bit of progress, bringing fresh fruit for everyone, calling her his little Moonlight - UGH!

But she'd rather have he there and keep going to class than not go at all so...

At New Years, Yuebei's school gets a prestigious role; acting as junior dancers in the parade! They've done competitions and live performances before, but New Years!? :D

Yuebei does not stop fretting about it when she gets home or meets up with the Noodle Gang. She's low-key panicking since it will be her first time in a parade at all. All that anxiety makes her start to wheeze a bit...

So on the evening of New Years; Wukong tells MK to go hang out with his dads and friends for the day - and maybe take a break to watch the parade! MK and Mei are super excited to see Yuebei perform for real, and convince Pigsy to close the food truck for a few minutes when it's time for her school's progression.

Then the spiders attack.

Yuebei is scream-wheezing with anger by now. She's spent days preparing for this parade! How dare these B-Tier villains wreck her and her team's performance!? Nearly aflame with rage, her glamour falls apart, revealing a very familiar-looking monkey demon...

Spider Queen is quick to capture this one, even if the little Monkey Princess is too cute to eat. She's perfect bait for catching her Daddy.

Wukong is captured alongside DBK as in canon, with the addition of Yuebei in the web next to him. Weirdly, the spider mech seems to "glitch out" a bit when it draws energy from her.

As Wukong soothes his crying little girl that it's ok and that they'll make it out of here, he notices how here breathing is Off.

Yuebei's asthma had gotten better as she grew up, but it never went away. And now she was in the midst of a massive attack.

Wukong panics as he struggles to reach for the inhaler in his pocket, gritting his teeth as the contricting webs pull at his strength, still assuring his daughter that everything will be okay.

Then the strange little girl appears... and Wukong pales at the sight of her. He weakly asks for assistance to help his child, only for the Bone Demon to mock him for having "such a weak progeny" and crush the inhaler underfoot. She leaves the room, threatening her future goals.

The other demons in the room now fully realise that Sun Wukong, The Monkey King, is terrified in this moment - terrified for his child's life. Wukong is trying his best not to cry, still trying to keep his daughter calm and breathing, but hope is running thin....

Until a shadow leaks into frame.

Anyone whos broken an inhaler casing will tell you that you can still release the medicine if the cartridge is intact, its just a little awkward.

Macaque fumbles with the cartridge as Wukong instructs him how to use it to help Yuebei, all three monkeys breathing a sigh of relief as the youngest's wheezing calms and breathing steadies.

Macaque is about to ask Wukong a much needed question when DBK manages to break free from his own webbing, terrified for his niece's well-being.

Ripping the webs asunder, DBK brushes the tears from Yuebei's eyes, asking if she's indeed ok before heading out to look for his own child. Wukong thanks his brother sincerely. And thanks Macaque too.

Macaque acts non-chalantly about it, and finally gets to ask;

"Who's kid is this?"

Wukong and Yuebei's faces tells him it's not a question they expected him to ask. Or one they would need an answer for. Macaque mentally panics as he calculates all the similarities between his ex-mate and the little monkey demon he just helped save.

Macaque blinks as the realisation comes to him; "Oh sh-"

And then the gang's airship releases the spider venom antidote throughout the city. More questions for later!

[justfangirlstuffs]

A Saltwater Room

Part 3 featuring @scarredlove's Sea Slug AU boys. :D

Part 1 here, Part 2 here.

Wordcount: 2055

As you slept you had strange dreams. Dreams of being underwater yet somehow able to breathe. Dreams of hands gently cradling you and bright eyes peering at you through the darkness, dreams of being wrapped up in warmth and softness. And any time you felt scared, soft gentle words of comfort were murmured into your ears, allowing you to sink further and further into restful slumber.

Sunlight pressed against your eyelids and you groaned. You didn't want to wake up. You just wanted to stay wrapped up in the warmth of your bed sheets... except... how was the sunlight getting in? Didn't you close the curtains? Something shifted against you, and you very quickly realized you were not alone. And you were not in bed, and these were not your bed sheets.

Blinking your eyes into focus, you found yourself wrapped up in curtains and folds of reds and blues and golds. You were laying atop the yellow sea creature, their arms wrapped around your middle, while the blue one was loosely draped over your legs in a way that didn't hurt but kept you effectively pinned you in place. No wonder you were so warm; now that you were awake you could feel the soft hum of their bodies. They appeared to be fast asleep.

Taking in your surroundings you found yourself in a different sea cave. Much larger than the one you'd fallen asleep in. You were currently resting on a sandy shore that lead to the opening of the cave that had two wide arches looking out into endless ocean. Small waves gently lapped over the sand, trying their best to reach you but lacking the strength or motivation to get very far. Big mood, honestly.

Overhead, a large, jagged hole served as a skylight, letting the sunshine in but still keeping most of the cave in shade. A few large rocks sat in the center, probably perfect spots for sunbathing during certain times of the day. As your eyes roamed, you noticed a part of the cave seemed to go deeper, but you couldn't see too far in before it melded into blackness. Still, you couldn't help but be nervous that something might emerge from those shadows.

It then dawned on you that you were far too calm for this situation. You could feel your panic, your fears and anxiety, but it was like there was a layer of... something separating you from it, not allowing it to reach up and pulled you under. Or... maybe you were just so overstimulated from yesterday you just didn't have the energy to have another attack. Regardless, it was time to address the two sea creatures in the room with you.

“Um... hello?” You lightly nudged against them, trying to get them to wake up so you could have some freedom of movement.

They both stirred, the blue one arching their back as they stretched. Seeing you awake, they slithered off of you. The yellow one waited until you were fully sitting up in your bed of sand before also putting some respectable distance. Huh... okay... so far this was a lot... tamer than your first encounter with either of them.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” the yellow one asked, rubbing their hands fretfully. “When Moon brought you here, I was worried he might've been too late. You were so cold, I thought-”

“Moon?” you repeated, rubbing your head. Your eyes widened. “Wait... as in... Sun and Moon?”

Moon immediately perked up. “You remember us?”

Glancing between the pair of them, it suddenly clicked. No wonder they seemed so familiar and yet so unrecognizable. Because the last time you'd seen them, they were tiny slugs living in your aquarium, small enough to fit in your hand.

“But... you were...” You pointed to your hand. “And now you're...” You gestured vaguely at them.

“Mm, I suppose we do look a bit different,” Sun mused. “Though, to be fair, in such a small space we weren't able to really... stretch our legs, so to speak.”

A bit different. Understatement of the century if there ever was one. Still... you couldn't believe that they were actually here. You thought you'd lost them forever years ago. Your family had been getting ready to move, and you were taking one last stroll with them, in the little aquatic carrying case you had made so you could take them with you whenever you had to leave the house. If they wanted to, of course.

However, your jerk of a cousin stole them from you and you'd chased him, trying to get them back. Then the idiot dropped them into the river that opened out into the ocean. You tried so hard to save them. You cut your hands and knees open on rocks trying to get to them in time, but the ocean stole them away, along with your blood and the tears you cried. You remember being so distraught that you had sulked for weeks afterwards. You'd lost your three best friends, yet no one seemed to understand how much they meant to you. When your parents offer to get you new slugs, you had refused, because how could you possibly replace them?

“Have you been here this whole time?” you asked them.

“Mm, here and there,” Sun answered vaguely. He reached forward and gave you a small boop on the noise. “Looking for you.”

“Waiting for you,” Moon added, his hands worrying the front ruffles of his robes. “Sorry for scaring you. Just... missed you.”

“I might have been a little... hasty as well,” Sun admitted, fingers toying with one of his rays. “I was just so happy. I apologize.”

They... had been looking for you all this time? All these years? What had they been getting up to? Had they gotten lonely? It must have been so scary for them, for their world to explode in such an abrupt and unexpected manner. But at least it seemed like they'd been able to adapt in a way that helped them to survive. Plus, the fact that they were apologizing for their behavior, however well-intentioned it was, really meant a lot.

“So, wait, if you two are here, then where is...” The sentence died in your throat as the pair's eyes widened and a large shadow suddenly loomed over you.

Turning around, your heart leapt up into your throat, clogging up any words you might have said. If these really were your Sun and Moon, then there was no doubt who this could be. Eclipse was so very tall. Taller than the other two. His robes were a deep midnight black laced with gold, adorned with bright yellow polka dots that gleamed with light. Like Sun, he had a halo of appendages around his face that were reminiscent of rays, only more elaborate. Golden yellow eyes shined down at you, his expression unreadable.

Wordlessly he knelt down, one of his large hands reaching out to gently stroke your hair. “Are you all right?” His voice was a gentle rumble, like distant thunder.

“Y-yeah,” you mumbled. “I think so.”

“Good,” he said. Then both of his hands were gripping your face, not harshly, but enough to get your attention as his face suddenly twisted in anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” Suddenly the thunder was not so distant anymore. “Wandering the beach after dark! Are you looking to get eaten?”

The unexpected admonishment cut you deeply and tears sprang up in your eyes. “Why are you yelling at me?” you squeaked.

Eclipse let you go looking panicked, clearly not having expected you to outright cry in the face of his ire.

“Nice going, idiot!” Moon chided, smacking Eclipse on the back of the head.

“I agree,” Sun muttered looking soured as well.

“Shut up! It's both of your faults they nearly died to begin with!” Then, to your amazement, Eclipse scruffed them both with each hand and threw them hand over hand into the water where they splashed, spraying droplets everywhere.

Moon make a few splashes and gargling sounds before playing dead, whilst Sun went full on theatrical mode. “Oh no! Whatever will I do? I need a beautiful strong pearl to save me from this dreadful predicament.” He glanced at you and winked.

A small snort left you, chased by a few giggles. You wiped the stray tears away with the back of your hand. Eclipse lightly touched your shoulder and you winced on reflex. His hand withdrew, his expression sullen but penitent.

“Sorry about that, Angelfish. I got carried away,” he muttered. “When those two brought you here, you were frozen, and your breathing was so slow.”

Shoot... had you really been that in danger of exposure? You gave a small shiver. “I don't do well with yelling,” you told him frankly. “But... it's nice that you cared, Eclipse.”

The use of his name got a reaction, as several of the colorful appendages around his face twitched as a smile spread over his visage. By this point, Sun and Moon were over their theatrics and had come back ashore to rejoin you. Though you noticed they were continuing to keep their distance, even though their expressions and the way they seemed to almost unconsciously gravitate towards you spoke volumes as to how much restraint they were exercising.

“Clip likes to act big and scary, but really he's the biggest softy of all of us,” Sun remarked with a wide grin.

“He's softer than a jellyfish,” Moon teased, poking at Eclipse's side. The latter gave a playful swipe at Moon who ducked away with a soft cackle.

The sight brought a grin to your face, warming your insides. The familiar way they acted, the way they teased and ribbed each other... they really were family. Even though Eclipse tried to act bothered, you were almost certain there was a fondness behind the irritation he was sporting. Gaud... seeing them all here stirred up so many memories, and your head felt so abuzz it was overwhelming. What was once so far off and distance now felt fresh and vivid as though just yesterday you'd been in your bedroom chatting happily away with them.

Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with the strongest urge to hug them, to hold them in a way you couldn't before. And yet... so much time had passed between then and now. You were different, and they were very different. Was it really okay for you to just... pick up where you last left off? Especially when you didn't know them anymore, not like this anyway. But... it would be so nice to have friends again. To have someone in your corner.

“So, what-” you began, however you were cut off as your stomach gave a monstrous growl that seemed to echo through the cave. The three of them stared at you and you were so embarrassed you wanted to hide your face in your hands.

“You're hungry,” Eclipse remarked. Not a question.

“I guess I shouldn't have skipped dinner,” you mumbled, rubbing your stomach.

“You WHAT?” he demanded. However, when you winced at his tone he clenched his fist and released a long heavy sigh. “Let's get you home.”

“Wait, but...” You glanced between the three of them. You still had so many questions.

“Go home, eat and rest,” Eclipse instructed firmly. He extended a hand, and you shyly took it. It was so large compared to your own, but it was soft, warm, and kind. He easily pulled you up onto your feet. “We can talk more later, once you've had time to...” He trailed off, as though searching for the right words.

“Process?” you supplied.

“Yes, that.” He pulled you closer, until you were only a breath apart from him. Your cheeks flushed at the proximity. “All you have to do is call for us, and we'll come find you.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Warmth bloomed from the spot as your heart thrummed in response. Then suddenly you started to feel very sleepy. You slumped against him, and his arms cradling you was the last sensation you felt before you passed out.

[mumifyy]

A Heartfelt gift 💝

(Vox x Anxiety!reader) Part 2 of “I love you”.

⚠️Warning⚠️, This is recommended for mature audiences only. Read at your own risk.

————

Warning: BIG Violence, kinda implied NSFW?, blood, use of weapons (his sharp ass hands), Yandere tendencies, murder, ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️Valentino⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️🤮, torture, no use of pronouns, not proof read, mentions of panic attacks, gore,

————

A/N: Finally decided to stop procrastinating and get this done before I totally forget lmao, I hope this ain’t ttoooooo much but it’s just what I thought Vox would do if his lover was attacked by Valentino, gross 🤢 (Valentino makes me want to pull out his arms and use his fingers to glue onto his bald ass head for hair 😒) ((I hate that mf with my entire being I swear.)) 🙏😭 please read the notice at the very end it’ll make sense (I hope)

Hopefully Y’all like the little treat I have for y’all at the end 😜

————

A yawning breath escaped your lips, your eye fluttering open from your slumber as you rolled over, your fingers gracing your phone to open it, seeking the knowledge of the time.

12:55 PM

“Damn…” You mumbled out in the quietness of you and your boyfriend’s shared bedroom. You sat up in bed, opening your phone to see a notification just from a few hours prior from your lovely spouse.

“Good morning my love, I hope you slept well despite last night. I’ve got a little surprise for you later today so I hope you’re ready for it. If you need me just call me and I’ll answer.”

Delivered 9:21 AM.

God you loved him. Your lips curled into a soft smile, your soft cheeks lightening up with a pink hue as you stared at the heartfelt message.

“Good morning my favorite TV, thank you for helping me last night and I’m excited for the surprise :D!!! I love you and have a good day Voxxxx :3” Delivered 12:58 PM.

You yawned and swung your legs off the bed, standing up and walking over to your bathroom to brush your teeth and freshen up for the day. The soft padding of your feet against the floor filled the silence in the room as you picked up your phone to play your favorite songs while you get dressed. Today felt to be like a great day already, usually, Vox in his line of work wouldn’t be able to spend time with you much as you and Vox both hated to admit it. But to see he had some time for you brightened your day up quickly as it started. You decided to wear something more formal today considering your surprise with Vox. A black turtle neck sweater with thin stripes from your boyfriend’s closet, paired with a black denim jean skirt/baggy dress pants and black pantyhose/or none. And of course your favorite thick black red bottomed thick chunky heels/Black red bottomed dress shoes. And of course your necklace with Vox’s name. He loved it when you wore it. And for the final touches you put on earrings that resembled Vox’s antennas.

You stepped out of your shared room, checking the time in your phone to see if you had any free time before he comes home. Just then, your phone buzzed to life with a notification from sinstagram, the notification kept you busy as you walked down the hallway outside of your penthouse. You jumped out of your skin when somebody hugged you from behind, turning around and being met with a familiar TV headed man you loved.

“Hey love-“ Vox cut himself off, looking you up and down. “Damn sweetheart.. don’t make me take you here right here right now.” He grinned, a perverted blush forming in his cheeks while you flushed and looked away dumbfounded. “Come sweet girl.” He whispered to you, taking your hand in his and taking you outside of the VVV tower and into the usual limo you guys road in, pulling you onto his lap as the limo started up and began to drive to whatever destination. “So what drove you to dress up so well for me dollface?” He raised a brow, a snarky smirk on his face. “Well you did say you had a surprise so I wanted to look good for it..” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck to lay your head in his chest. “ah.” His chest rumbled with his reply. Time passed as the limo ran through the roads of Pentagram city, Your head lowered onto Vox’s chest not being able to notice to soft but crazed look in his eyes.

Finally, after exiting the Limo and following Vox, you found yourself infront of a cliff with peaceful waters swooshing below you. It was like a cheesy picnic date. Both you and Vox were sat down, eating both of your favorite foods together having a wholesome time together in hell, it was something you never thought you would have there in the violent place down below. After a while, Vox had asked you to stand up…

————

16 hours earlier…

Vox’s fans were speeding for miles. Trying to keep him from over heating like lava. He was pissed to say the least. He knew in the next room over, you were sleeping soundly in his bed. Currently, he was stomping his way over to the culprit of your panic attack, his screen was glitching constantly, his employees giving him worried or nervous glances as she stomped by, even going as far to shove an employee out of the way harshly. Sparks flew from his body, his teeth gritting against each other like they were cheese shredders. Soon enough, he reached his destination, Valentinos studio.

Angrily, Vox didn’t give two shits about how Valentino would react to him damaging his studio. As quickly as he came he smashed the door in causing one of the hinges to the door and rip the door frame, the door hanging in for dear life.

“Shit!”

“What the hell Vox?! Im in the middle of a shoot!” Valentino barked in anger, secretly turning pale by the deathly scary look in Vox’s eyes, he had personally never say that look in his eyes, besides when the Alastor tantrum occurred.“M̵̡͊͊̃̐͗̄Y̴̼͖̣͋ ̸̨͕̦͙̝͙̣̎͂́͛͘̕F̶̢̱͎̭̙͑͋͊-̴̡̧͖̤̠̘̹̀̒̾̋)̸̘͗͛̍̀̚$̸̧͕̘͕͓̪͑̎͆͑͊͜—̴͖̩̟̫͐̂͆͆̕͘Ǘ̶͇̅͛͐̾̍͒͌̏̏͜ͅU̵͇̩̭̥͍̘͈͗̋͗̌̌̐͠ͅŲ̴͖̘̞̼̬̣͔̺̾!̴͓̼̦̟̺͔͇͙̔̐̔͒̍͌́̎̚͝’̶̛͉̰̭͖̝̈͊̎͐n̶̡̨̛͎̹̯̱̕C̸͈̳̆̒̇K̴͕̺̦̎͊̑Ì̴͈̱̘̹̣̜̍̏̔͐̆̀̕͘N̸̗͎̄̅̓̀͘C̸͎͊̂ ̵̘̫̙̥͉̑͂̔̌͌̀͐͌Ǫ̴̥̖͈̯̂̐̈́̕-̷̹̺͑̄͊̒̔̕F̶̙͙̫̭̰̼͈̘̳͕̀͐̚F̶͈͍̟̦̤͓̞̗͛͑͐͋̐͆̅̽̚͘ͅ$̶̬̥͉̋̓̍̈͆̄̀͠ͅ)̷̛͉͓͉̀̔͒̉̍̅$̶̭̣̲̥̫̓̌̓̋—̵͓̗̬͋̓̒̚C̶̨͍̟͉̳̠̹̀͒̽͜͠͝ͅĘ̵͓̌̀̅̊̇ ̴̟̌̿́́͊͘N̴͙̖̳͋͑̾̈̈́̈́̈̀͗Ő̸̗̅͊̊̅̈͌͠6̷̡̧̩͙̳̂̍͆–̸̧͈͇̬̣̯̭̖̀̋̀̊̋̋̀̐͐ͅ7̷̪̦͋W̴̨͔̟͂̈́̈́̏̀̓̀͂͑͠.”

(My fucking office now)

Vox angrily glitched, his fans working overtime as they cooled his fiery mother board as best as they could. It was surprising how didn’t have to reboot himself, not like he’s already had to twice in the same 10 minutes. The room was silent, Valentinos workers scurrying out of the room quickly. Vox marched to Valentino and yanked him out of his directors chair, Valentino stumbling forwards with a dumbfounded look. “You fucking touched what was mine. Now I’ll take what’s yours.” Valentino looked at Vox confused, his heart beating in his chest. All of the air from his lungs were suddenly sucked out of him, Valentino gasping for air as he looked at a now bloody Vox. Valentino fell backwards onto his ass and gasped for air as the pain kicked in. His hands grasped at his chest from where the intense pain came from, looking down to be met with something he would never guess. A large hole. Where his ribs had been, no basically torn apart flaring with blue electricity. Vox had ran into a rage that drove him to rob apart Valentinos ribs and snatch his heart out. Leaving him breathless as he walked out of the studio, Valentinos heart slowly loosing its rhythm in his hand.

————

Present…

You stood up, looking down at Vox curiously with a glint in your oh so innocent eye. Vox stared at you lovingly, knowing you were all his, as he pulled out a small box and slowly opened it, a wave of tears and excitement filled you in an instant as you saw the ring in the box.

“My darling… the love of my life in the hell. (Name and last name), would you do me the great pleasure of sharing my last name with me?”

Vox said, looking up at you as he was on one knee, you were his lifeline, if you die, he dies. You were his heart, if you stop beating he stops too. He smiled as you cried and hugged him, falling down to your knees as you screamed yes over and over again like a mantra.

Vox cried with you, kissing you over and over like it would be his last, you were his, forever. His hands grasping at your cheeks as he smiled crazily, the blood still in his fingers as it smeared on your delicate cheeks, Valentino’s dead lifeless heart in your hands with your new found marriage worn on your ring finger, now covered in your assaulters blood. “Do you like my surprise my dear?” You stared into his lustful crazed eyes.

“I love it, it’s such…”

“A Heartfelt gift”

————

A/n: I hope y’all like it and it’s not too much gore and stuffs lol, I mean it is hell after all. Also I do not know if Vox has a last name or not, it just felt right to put that as what he said yk? And fuck ⚠️🤮Valentino🤮⚠️ (not like that nastys) cause he’s a bitch 🙃.

[hard-core-super-star]

deep blue, you painted me golden [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: the ups and downs that come with secretly dating under the watchful eye of the media prove to be too much for you and hailee...so you decide to come up with a solution yourselves instead of giving in to the chaos.

warnings: an overwhelming amount of fluff; mentions of anxiety + panic attacks but nothing super detailed; protective hailee; petnames for days; secret relationship; rude paparazzi's and ruder interviewers

wordcount: 2.1k

a/n: this request was sent in via pm and it was an absolute delight to write. thank you everyone for the continued support and lovely requests. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You’re not sure if you’re too optimistic or a complete fool but either way, you’ve found yourself in a situation you were promised wouldn’t end up in. If you were anyone else, you might be mad but you’re far too overwhelmed to think like that.

“y/n! Hailee! Over here!”

You flinch as another camera flash hinders your vision. Right now is not the best time to be thinking about anything except getting the hell away from everyone.

Everyone except the one person keeping you safe amidst the chaos.

“It’s alright, baby,” Hailee mumbles, no doubt picking up on your rising anxiety. “We’re almost there. Just hang on, okay?”

All you can do is nod in response as her grip on your waist tightens. She pulls you closer to her side, the subtle action filled with all the love and protection she always exudes so easily.

You’re not the only one who notices the affectionate gesture considering the amount of camera clicks that go off the next second. You’re more worried about finally reaching the safety of your home than the number of headlines those pictures will create.

The brunette leads you inside, doing her best not to lose her temper at the paparazzi yelling at you to smile. They’re just doing their job. A job she strictly told her team she didn’t want to be a part of.

You breathe out a sigh of relief once you’re back in the familiar walls of your apartment. It’s not until you move to take your jacket off that you notice how fast your heart is beating and how shaky your hands are. A second longer and you surely would have had an anxiety attack.

Hailee comes to the same conclusion as you once she reaches your side again. “I'm sorry,” she says while her hands find your waist again.

“It's not your fault,” you reply, not so subtly reaching up to wipe away the few tears that blur your vision.

Hailee’s frown deepens and she gently pulls your hand down before taking your face in her hands, her thumbs wiping away the wetness that starts to streak your cheeks. “I should've known they would call the paps on us. They always do this.”

“I get it, it’s your job.”

“My job and my life are two separate things, love. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Lee, it’s fine.” You both know you’re lying but you’re far too tired to have this conversation all over again. The problem wasn’t whether to go public with your relationship or not, the problem was the number of people involved in the decision. A decision that ultimately wasn't yours to make.

“Okay,” she relents. “Let me make it up to you, though.”

She attempts to move away, probably to put on a movie so the two of you can cuddle up on the couch and forget all the unnecessarily complicated details that make up your relationship. You stop her before she can get too far, though, and instead pull her into the embrace you so desperately need.

Her chest rumbles with the affectionate chuckle she can’t hold back. Her arms go around your body in an instant as you rest your head against her shoulder. “I’ve got you, y/n. I promise.”

You don’t doubt her words for a second and yet you don’t understand the full extent of them until much later.

To no one’s surprise, the paparazzi pictures end up going viral leading to countless articles speculating what exactly you and Hailee are to each other. Neither of you cares much but of course, that doesn’t stop everyone who knows the truth about your relationship from freaking out.

You’re given the usual advice you’re used to hearing from both your friends and your girlfriend’s PR team. Advice that just boils down to people who have no business butting into your relationship telling you to break up or, at the very least, put some distance between you until everything cools down.

It’s not something either of you plan on doing but you agree to tone down your affectionate displays for a while. It hurts more than you’re willing to admit but you know Hailee’s not doing it to be malicious, she’s just trying to keep you safe from the constant criticism that looms over your head nowadays.

Criticism that doesn’t bother you…until it does.

Somehow, Hailee manages to convince you to join her for an interview a few weeks after the paparazzi incident. There’s no real reason for you to go with her other than she wants you there and well, how can you say no to her puppy dog eyes?

You’re sitting a few feet away from where your girlfriend and the interviewer are set up, your eyes focused on the brunette’s radiant beauty more than anything else.

“So, you’ve been pretty hush-hush about where the inspiration for these songs has come from,” the interviewer says.

Hailee chuckles, her eyes drifting toward you for a split second before she focuses again. “Yeah, well, being cryptic is part of my charm. Why spoil the fun, right?”

“The rumors don’t bother you?” The question seems simple enough but you know by now these situations are never what they seem.

“Which ones?” She jokes.

“The ones that say you wrote Coast after having a fun time with y/n down by the beach.”

The implications of the words and the tone aren’t lost on you and you suddenly regret agreeing to come along. There’s a high chance this section will be edited out of the interview clip but you still can’t believe she genuinely said that.

Hailee does a good job of not letting her anger show on her face but the way she’s gripping her chair gives her away. “Let’s leave y/n out of it. Rumors are just rumors but they’re still uncomfortable to listen to.”

“Right, right,” she says with a nod, acting like she’s going to change the subject. “But I mean, rumors are nothing compared to knowing you’re being used.”

The mask falls and even from this distance, you notice the way her eyes narrow and her jaw clenches. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think someone like that is dating you just for fun. You’re not exactly being subtle and I’m sure all the attention must feel great.”

The words feel like a punch to the gut.

You’d been spending less time on social media to avoid reading all the theories about your relationship but this…this was insane. Did people really think you were with Hailee for the attention? Were you being made out to be a golddigger and nothing else despite how careful the two of you have been so far?

You tried to tell yourself over and over you didn’t care what anyone said yet your mind seemed to disagree with you. You couldn’t get a single rational thought into your brain.

Whatever Hailee replies to the interviewer doesn’t reach your ears.

Nothing seems to register until you feel her loving touch against your skin. “Come on, darling, let’s get out of here.”

She helps you onto your feet and you instantly lean into her, looking for something to ground you before you get lost in your overwhelmingly loud thoughts. Her arm goes around your waist to pull you close and you focus on the tiny circles her thumb draws against your side. No words are spoken as you start to make your way out of the building.

Even before you reach the doors you can hear the bustling of people gathered outside, no doubt waiting to catch a glimpse of Hailee. The noise makes you groan and your girlfriend is quick to ease your worries.

“It’ll be okay, y/n.” She presses her lips to your temple for a sweet kiss. “Don’t think about them, just focus on me. I’ve got you, remember?”

That night in your apartment seems like a lifetime ago but Hailee’s never broken a promise to you. And you don’t think she’s about to start right now.

“I know,” you reply in a quiet voice. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You can hear the smile she’s wearing through her words.

She gives you a loving squeeze before resuming the journey away from all the prying eyes that watch you closely. It’s a struggle to get outside even with the security team that opens a path for the two of you.

Everywhere you look there’s a camera or someone demanding answers for questions you can’t even hear over all the noise. Hailee’s grip on you doesn’t waver for a second, her focus entirely on you and making sure you don’t fall prey to your growing anxiety.

You can hear her mumbling words of encouragement against the side of your head. You can’t make out what she’s saying but the soft tone of her voice is more than enough to keep you calm…or as calm as you can manage to be considering the situation.

It feels like hours pass before you finally catch sight of your car. Hailee hands her keys to one of her security guards once you reach the vehicle and she quickly helps you climb inside.

The second the car door is closed, you seek out the warm safety of her embrace. She knows exactly what you need and she guides your face into the crook of her neck. Her arms wrap around you as you cling to her shirt, ignoring the shouts and camera clicks that still fill your ears.

“It’s alright, you’re safe,” she mumbles, her hand running through your slightly disheveled hair. “Everything’s okay.”

You can’t bring yourself to reply just yet and Hailee doesn’t push you. A tense silence hangs over the both of you while the car begins to move. It lingers until you’re finally able to catch your breath and relax your shoulders.

“There we go,” your girlfriend says once she notices the change in your breathing. “Better?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Thank you, babe.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

You let out a soft hum before you ask the question that’s been on your mind this whole time. “Is that really what everyone thinks? That I’m using you?”

“y/n, it doesn’t matter what they think. We’re what matters.”

“It matters a little,” you mutter.

A beat of silence goes by until the brunette speaks up again. “Baby, can you look at me? Please?”

There’s no way you can deny her anything when she uses that tone on you.

You shift a little, making sure your body is still pressed tightly against hers, before lifting your head out of the safety of her neck. You look into her eyes, feeling vulnerable and safe at the same time.

“My love, is it the rumors that bother you or the fact that we have to hide?” She asks, her eyes shifting to find the answer in your features.

“I don’t know.” You hesitate for a second and then tell her the truth. “I get why we’re keeping everything a secret but…I don’t know, I just…I don’t want to hide how I feel for you. I don’t want to worry every time we step outside if we’re standing too close together or looking at each other too long. I just want to be with you…all the time. Does that make sense?”

The little grin on her face is enough of an answer but she goes the extra mile by leaning in and giving you a quick, reassuring kiss. The remaining tension leaves your shoulders the second her lips meet yours. You may have hundreds of ways of showing your support for one another but this one might be your favorite one.

She pulls away from you but rests her forehead against yours. The close proximity allows you to notice the specks of gold hidden in her warm brown eyes. “It makes perfect sense, baby. I want that too.”

“Are you sure?" You find yourself asking. "I know it’s a big step. And a risk.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The car comes to a stop right after those loving words leave her lips. She gives you one more quick kiss before climbing out and leading you inside her home.

You’re greeted by Martini and Brando who distract both of you enough to leave your conversation on the backburner for now. It feels good to be able to relax and spend time together without anything getting in the way and you both take advantage of it.

You’re curled up in bed together when she asks a question that makes your heart stop in the best of ways. “What if we just…come out right now? We can post a picture of us and let everyone figure it out if they want to.“

The answer is as obvious as your love for her. "Okay…but I get to choose the picture."

She laughs, the sound reminding you of all the reasons why no one else compares to your girlfriend. "You've got yourself a deal, love."

[oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat]

The Sides Are Dorks, Part 389534

I was wondering why the Sanders Sides tag was trending earlier, and then I saw. the Video. Anyway, here's my thoughts while watching the new vid (in list format) bc I haven't done this in a while.

[it's gonna be LONG knowing me]

"I would never be caught dead in a bowtie" *cuts to when Janus literally wore a bowtie in canon*

"yeah and I deserve it" -> ha mood

"Wrong, I ate an entire bottle of melatonin gummies" -> Patton. Patton, no.

"I could switch to green tea, and I'll still be a bitch!" -> also mood

hey. hey why you do that. why would you say that. (aka: Roman is offended by the mustache comparison)

"Where is my ruler" -> PLEASE it'd be so fucking funny

Virgil really be like "WRONG! I use the tildas you faker" (/j) (/lh)

Patton starts listing off every appliance that has heat stuff and I cannot. I CANNOT--

^and then there's the fridge. what did Fridge ever do to you? where's the lorreee

"wholesome friendship" // "how many holes we talkin'" -> yeah that makes sense

"No, he's just not worth an attack" -> Logan sounds like he's thought about this before

Roman Unscrews Imaginary Lightbulb, reaction is a family-friendly version of "Listen here, you little shit"

"get him" -> Virgil hates that Anxiety so much

Emile Picani Joins the Ranks of Rat Man by Sleeping in the Buff. it's canon now.

"It's no one's business what bites me" -> Janus. Janus, the implications. Janus--

Patton reveals Logan's secret: Love for Donuts, feat. wiggly fingers

"Which is rude...because I am not young" -> also Sheldon is missing The Tie, which is essential for Serious Smart People (I guess)

Roman likes My Little Pony

"No, I didn't--" // "He did!" // "He definitely did." -> LMAO the Others confirming that Virgil had a meme phase

Ah yes: The Sponsor Section

Patton being like "some cookies are bad??" is funny to me lol

"--vaccuums" // "No" // "ignore that last one" -> goddamnit Patton (/pos)

"There sneaky people out there" *cuts to Janus*

Roman loves Barbie movies. Barbie Movie? whatever, he likes Barbie

"war against the evil cookies" // "wait--" -> haha. this is why I believe in Intruality so much

"I dropped another laptop in the toliet" -> another one?

conclusion: Patton and Remus are both accident-prone. an Intruality win. also they interacted for like, 2 seconds. another Intruality win

Sponsor Ends!

"ACTUALLY it was four times. bitch." (Sleep, basically)

okay but like. when the glasses are on the head, it's like they're invisible. I say as someone who loses their glasses, only to find them in stupidly obvious places. also mood

Virgil DEFINITELTY watched Patton do this for five minutes before he said anything

Roman is in love with his sword, Exhibit D

^(D is for--)

Logititties. that's all

Janus really said "wanna go, bitch?"

also: "I wouldn't be caught dead in a fish fight. I would poison you" -> ah, of course, a snake with style (/j)

"calculator is computer" // "that's technically correct, actually" -> where's the Logicality enjoyers when you need them

Roman Rage Quits at Roblox. also Insecurity

"bitch, I'm not that out there" -> this helps deduce the scale of What The Fuck Is Remus's Normal At

"True...or is it false?" -> he loves fucking with people, doesn't he?

"yeah" -> he sounds so resigned, nooo :(

Endcard Moment: Logan loves jelly-filled donuts

and that's it, folks! This was lovely. Silly gay personality traits.